A/N: So this is the first actual chapter of this story. Don't expect this quick updating to continue. I'm working a lot this summer and this has just been bugging me since I saw Now You See Me. That being said I don't have a real plot lined out for this story so at some point I'm going to need to spend my two days off working through that. I was blown away by the amount of follows and favorites I already have for this story and hopefully can keep everyone interested as we move along, also please point out mistakes as I currently do not have a beta. Peace Out

The sun was beginning to set as Harry finished his last trick with a flourish pulling a bird out of a member of his audiences' ear. The setting sun caused his jet black unruly hair to almost look red and his eyes seemed an even darker shade of emerald behind his ever present simple black round glasses. The crowd clapped loudly and tossed money into the box at the edge of his performance space. Quickly packing up his things Harry slowly made his way to the abandoned foundry that he had been squatting in for the past year. It was a good space. The large open areas allowed Harry to practice his larger and more complex tricks.

It was a large building that was about five stories tall. The open floor of where the massive vats of melted steel and iron would pour into the castings was a god send when testing out larger tricks that needed the space. There were also the hundreds of chains and locks that had been left behind when it closed that allowed Harry to practice is escapes. Up on the second floor in the old offices is where Harry made his actual home. He had a small cot with some blankets he had nicked over the years and an old kitchen area where the cooks would feed the workers during their shifts. Harry had occasionally brought in younger children in for a few days during the coldest part of the winter so that they wouldn't die from the cold and lack of food. He would teach them enough so that they could provide for themselves in the future. Now though in the middle of spring he was living alone again, the way he preferred it if he was honest even if he did get the occasional bought of loneliness.

As Harry was sorted his earnings for the day he noticed something strange mixed in with his money. Picking it up, he looked at a Hanged Man Tarot card. Frowning he flipped it over. On the back it said 12 King Street, Edinburgh, two days from now April 14, 1995, 3:33 pm.

Confusion was clearly expressed on Harry's face. This was an awfully odd thing for someone to write on a card. Shrugging Harry slipped the card into the back pocket of his worn jeans and zipped up his dark brown hoodie over his old The Who t-shirt, flipped up the hood throwing his face into a light shadow and continued walking home. He would ponder this more when he was safely back home. As Harry finally left the street corner he had occupied since just before dinner he never saw the hooded man who watched from across the street and had been doing so all day.


Safely back in his foundry Harry brought out the card again. It was of average size for a tarot card and so was about one and half to twice the size of a normal playing card. The back held a relatively simple design that gave away little but the other side was far more revealing in nature, for hidden in the upper right had corner was a symbol that caused Harry to freeze not daring to hope that it actually meant what he thought it meant because there in the corner colored in black was the All-Seeing-Eye, also called the eye of Horus, the symbol of one of the oldest organizations in the world.

The Eye, believed to have been started in ancient Egypt in the time of the Pharaohs the first members might well have started the art form now known as street magic. Using their skills they stole from the rich and gave to the poor, the first Robin Hoods. As the empire of the Egyptians grew so too did the Eye, now it was a worldwide organization dedicated to continuing the efforts of the founding members they stole from the rich and gave to the poor using the skills of a magician. At least that was the common myth about the Eye, among the magic community they were also supposed to guard the secret to true magic.

If Harry was correct then this was his invitation to join the Eye. Of course they only took the best of the world's magicians. Harry had always thought himself rather tallented but nowhere near the level of the truly great. Then again maybe that was the way the Eye worked, they picked the brightest rising stars and scooped them up before they became too well known and so they could still be used without drawing too much attention to themselves wherever they went.

With a sigh Harry placed the card next too his cot, "I guess there is only one way to figure out if this is a joke or not. It seems I am going to Edinburgh." he said out loud.


Far to the north an old man sat in a far older castle. This castle was hidden from the eyes of the world by the power of his people's magic. Not the petty illusions and sleight of hand of the mundane but magic that came from within a person because of this the old man thought himself better than the normal riff-raff that populated most of the planet at this point. They had no real power, only the imagined power that the truly powerful such as he and his people allowed them to have. Though no one would ever see through the genial grandfather mask that he donned for the masses, here alone in his office except for his phoenix and the portraits of past heads of the school, he allowed the mask to at least partially come off as he contemplated the present state of the Magical World.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived had disappeared a few years after he had left the boy with his aunt's family. In the past ten years Albus had searched far and wide for the last of the Potters and when the boy failed to turn up five years before when he was supposed to begin his magical education the Ministry of Magic had gotten involved and searched for the boy as well. They knew he was still alive as the book of Heirs deep within the bowels of the Department of mysteries still had him listed as the heir of the Potter and Black lines. The later of his two inheritances was due to being left everything by the traitor Sirius Black when his will was activated upon his incarceration and the death of Sirius's parents a few years before.

Now as night came to the ancient castle the old man had no idea that the boy who had already disappeared once was about to do so again and this time, he was truly going to change.