Jude had nightmares.

And I'm not talking small scares about monsters under the bed that you can just hug away.

He had nightmares that left him pulling at his little tuffs of hair in fright, nightmares that made him wail for hours and hours even when Abby was holding him close. Nightmares that made him pale and sick and took years off his life.

Abby couldn't possibly imagine what he had been through to get like this, she didn't want to imagine. Her baby boy was suffering and she couldn't do anything about it. She had started taking him to therapy, but all he could do was draw and play with the psychologist due to the fact that he couldn't say many words at all, it was expected at his age.

Her eyes shot open as she heard Jude screaming again. 'The neighbours must hate us,' she thought.

Abby hurried to his room; newly furnished with a cot, bookshelf, wardrobe and toy chest. The walls were painted a calming blue. She lifted her poor son from the cot and held him close, doing the only thing she knew how to do:

She sang. Just like she had done countless nights before, and would for countless nights to come. She rocked him and sang:

"Ba, ba black sheep, have you any wool?

Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Three bags full.

One for the master and one for the maid,

And one for the little boy who lives down the lane."

She repeated this several times, like she had done night after night with any old nursery rhyme or song she could think of. This one seemed to be one of his favourites, he calmed down a little bit quicker.

Her mouth was getting dry after the fourth repeat, she paused to swallow seeing that Jude was only sniffling now. When:

"Ba, ba back beep, ha you any wul."

She couldn't believe it.

"Es, sir. Es, sir. Tree bads bull."

She started to laugh, Jude stopped singing, she hugged him close.

She didn't think she sung to him that much. A full tune before he could make a sentence, it was amazing.

[PAGE BREAK]

Jude was a smart young man.

He had lots of friends in primary school and outside it, he prided himself on that. As his mother says, 'no one can do anything alone, and a stranger is just a friends you haven't made yet.'

Except stranger danger, he remembered her adding. That's bad.

Jude was quiet unless spoken to, or if he had something to say, or to sing. That's how he was known. He was also the most pacifist person you've ever met. He sobbed over stepping on a bug and accidentally head butting one of his friends. All life is precious and violence is never the answer, as his mum says.

He was in the choir and loved every minute of it. When not in the choir he was watching musicals or playing the guitar that his granddad gave him when he was six. He also dabbled in piano as his mum had given him a few lessons when he wanted them, but he didn't like it as much as his guitar.

Everybody was on friendly terms with him, he'd had a few run ins with bullies, but no one could resist the power of friendship!

Dudley really was a dumb bully, he felt sorry for anyone who had his genes, they probably didn't know what 2 + 2 was, but he was a nice friend when he tried.

It was the summer holidays after the last year of primary school. He was excited about going to high school, but he was going to miss all of his school friends that aren't going to the same one as him. He was going to a local place called Gildford high school, he hadn't seen inside but it looked okay from the outside.

He was currently playing Pac Man on the NES system his mum had bought him for Christmas when he heard his mum shout.

"Jude! There's a letter here for you!"

"Coming, mum!"

It was probably Tom, Jude's best friend. He loved to send letters in code, it made him feel like a secret agent. Jude had fun deciphering them.

He paused his game and headed to the kitchen, where his mum was sitting with the mail. She handed him his letter with a smile and they sat down for cereal.

It was a yellowish envelope that felt heavy when compared with other letters. On the front in green ink that seemed to sparkle was:

Mr J. Day

The Largest Bedroom

49 Longing street

Little Whinging

Surrey

"That's very odd. It doesn't have a stamp, not to mention that address line," said mum, looking it over.

Jude pulled it open, it didn't rip easily like most other envelopes, and pulled out the parchment. He read it out loud to his mum:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Day,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We understand that this may come as a surprise and will visit you on the 10th of July at 2 o'clock to prove magic is real so you can make a decision as to whether you wish to attend. If this date or time is unsuitable, please send an owl. Thank you for your time.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

A million things rushed through Judge's head: magic is real? There's a school to learn it? I'm a wizard? When he finally had some level of cognitive control, he looked to his mum and said:

"Owl?"

Just then, they heard a tap on the window. A small tawny owl was staring at them. Abby had almost laughed at the letter, then frowned when they said they would come and visit. Now looking out of her window, she gaped.

"Mum?" Said Jude. The look on her face concerned him.

"This can't be real," she laughed, "sorry to rain on your parade, Jude-"

"But there's an owl here!" Jude pointed at the window. The owl looked like it had been caught in the headlights and jumped back slightly.

"People can train owls, Jude. This is probably just a practical joke, please don't get your hopes up."

Jude looked down. "But it makes so much sense, Mum. Remember when I ended up on that roof? Or when Miss Davidson's hair went crazy colours? Or when my hair grew back over night?! What about the snake! Even you couldn't explain that."

Against everything Abby had been told, she admitted that it did make sense. Jude had told her that he had done that to his teachers hair but didn't know how he did. She almost had a fit at the zoo when her baby boy was making hissing sounds that sounded way too real. He got the snake to do what he wanted it to, she had just categorised it as something she couldn't explain and tried to forget about it as best she could.

'Oh. My son could be magic,' she thought.

Shaking her head, she gestured to the owl.

"Write a thank you note and that we accept. Give it to the owl." Jude lit up. Anything for her little gentleman. She laughed as he wrote.

"Did you really think we weren't going to accept? Even if it isn't real, we still get a free magic show."

Jude laughed, opened the window, and handed the owl the note. He was rather proud of it, it had been done in his best hand-writing.

Jude sat down as the owl flew off and poured himself some cereal.

"When is your birthday going to be this year?" Abby asked.

When Abby had taken Jude to the child psychologist, he had told her that Jude had the mental skills of a 15 month old. She had worked backwards and found that Judge's birthday was either late July or early August, she hadn't had a need to solidify a day, so Jude picks his birthday every year.

"I was thinking the 3rd of August so me a Joey can have a joint party."

"That sounds nice. Did she agree?"

"Yeah, she said it was a great idea."

"I'll call her dad later then."

Jude lifted the letter up to read again. He still couldn't believe it. He snorted.

"What?" Asked mum.

"Mugwump sounds like a funny insult," he laughed.

[PAGE BREAK]

At Hogwarts, it had been nine years since Dumbledore realised Harry Potter was missing.

His heart ached at the wrong he had done the boy, just after his parent's deaths as well. He would never forgive himself. He only hoped that Harry had got his letter and would come on the first of September, then he could begin to try and make right what he had done wrong.

If Harry didn't come. He didn't know what he would do with himself.

Dumbledore held his face in his hands in misery. He never stopped thinking about what could have happened to Harry. He was a fool, leaving a baby on the doorstep, anyone could have taken him!

Fawks trilled a Phoenix song from his perch. Dumbledore felt calmer. There was no use moping, he had to tend to his duties.

"Thank you, Fawkes," he said, his eyes twinkling, as he went to check on Minerva.

McGonagall knew what Dumbledore wanted to know as he entered the room. She locked eyes with him, holding a list of all the sent letters. Regret and tears were clear in her gaze. She braced herself, then shook her head.

Dumbledore cried.