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Chapter 1: A Flash from the Past

Albus Dumbledore deeply regretted his choice in attire for this morning. While he only had one muggle suit, one for this very situation, he now felt he should have purchased a new one. But, alas, it had not crossed his mind until he had stepped in front of the orphanage. The orphanage, just another reminder of that fateful day. 'This is NOT Tom!' But no matter how much he told himself that, his fears remained.

Stepping up to the front door of St. William's Orphanage, Dumbledore composed himself before knocking on the front door. A small, dirty girl with blonde pigtails answered the door. "'ello?"

"Good morning. I have an appointment with a Mrs. Tuck, who is, I assume, still the matron here?"

"Oh," said the small girl, clearly not knowing how to handle this situation. "Um…gimme a sec…" And with that the girl was off running down the hallway, screaming "MRS. TUCK!" Leaving the front door wide open for Dumbledore to step through, the old wizard invited himself inside, closing the door behind him. As soon as he turned around, two small children came running right past him and off into another room.

Shortly after, a much older girl, probably around 16 or 17, came through holding an infant in her arms. Upon seeing Dumbledore's eccentric attire, she developed a bewildered expression on her face. "Uh…come on in, she's just in 'er office. First door on the left."

Dumbledore walked down a hallway tiled in black and white, the whole place shabby but spotlessly clean. It all sent horrible memories racing through his mind. Arriving at the office, Dumbledore knocked twice before peeking his head through the already open door. "Good morning, Mrs. Tuck. I recently sent you a letter requesting a meeting. My name is Albus Dumbledore."

Mrs. Tuck blinked, rubbed her eyes, and finally decided that she was staring at a very old man, with a white beard down to his knees, wearing a flamboyantly cut suit of plum velvet. "Oh yes – well then – you'd better come in and have a seat. What can I do for you today, Mr. Dumbledore?"

She led Dumbledore into her office and offered him a seat across from her desk. "I am here, as I told you in my letter, to discuss Harry Potter and arrangements for his future."

"Are you family?" asked Mrs. Tuck.

"No, I am a teacher," said Dumbledore. I have come to offer Harry a place at my school."

"What school's this, then?" 'Ah, why do I always get the clever ones?'

"A special school in Scotland. It is called Hogwarts."

"And how come you're interested in Harry? What has he done to get into this school of yours?"

While Dumbledore had expected the first answer, the second caught him off guard and, more importantly, caused him to worry. The matron didn't ask in an inquisitive way, but more an accusatory way. Like Harry had done something.

"We believe he has the qualities we're looking for, and his name has been down for our school since birth –"

"Who put him down? His parents?"

This woman was sharp, of that there was no doubt. But the way she asked her questions, the type of questions she asked, they cause the hair on the back of his neck to rise.

"This paper should explain everything." Dumbledore gave her a blank piece of paper, subtly waving his wand beneath the desk ask she took it. Mrs. Tuck's eyes slid out of focus and back again as she gazed intently at the blank piece of paper for a moment.

"Well then, everything seems to be perfectly in order." The matron handed the piece of paper back and then proceeded to open on of the drawers behind her desk and pull something out. "Now then," she began, "May I offer you a glass of gin?"

For a second, time around Dumbledore seemed to freeze, and a pit began to form in his stomach. He quickly regained his composure, before politely declining the woman. "But please," he added, noticing her disappointed face, "Help yourself."

After a brief moment of silence, while Mrs. Tuck poured herself a glass of gin, Professor Dumbledore began once again. "I was wondering whether you could tell me anything of Harry Potter's childhood? How does he do in school, what are his friends like?"

"Oh, Harry is an excellent student. He's top of his class in every subject. It's no wonder, all that boy does is read."

Dumbledore smiled to himself as he eased into the conversation. 'That's the Lily in him.'

"He's a funny boy, funny as a baby too. He hardly ever cried, you know. And then, when he got older, he was…odd."

Back were the ominous premonitions. "Odd…how?"

"Well, he –"

She stopped short and gave Dumbledore a glance. 'Is that fear? Please let it not be so.'

"He's definitely got a place at your school, you say?"

"Definitely," said Dumbledore, his worries growing exponentially.

"And nothing I say can change that?"

'No, no, no, no, NO! Please no, please don't let him be like Tom.' "Nothing."

She squinted at him as though deciding whether or not to trust him. Apparently, she decided she could, because she said in a sudden rush, "He scares the other children."

"You mean…he's a bully?" Inquired Dumbledore, not even trying to hide the fear in his voice.

"No!" Exclaimed the matron, her face flushed. "No, I didn't mean that at all! Harry is a wonderful, polite boy. He never gets into trouble and prefers to deal with problems on his own rather than making an adult handle it. No, Harry…Harry is the one who is bullied."

Dumbledore did not know how to react to this bit of information. A weight seemed to be lifted from his shoulders the moment she denied Harry being a bully, but the news that Harry was the subject of the other children's torment did not sit well with him. 'Oh Harry, what have I put you through.'

"There have been incidents…Nasty things…"

Dumbledore, while interested, decided not to press her. She took a large sip of gin and her rosy cheeks grew rosier.

"There was this kid, Thomas. He was the one who picked on Harry the most. He had been left here when he was 8, and Harry was 6. Harry had been a relatively quiet child, but Thomas saw his quietness as a weakness. Every day it seemed Harry was going to bed with bruises, cuts, and scratches."

"And you did nothing to stop this?" came Dumbledore's accusing voice, breaking her from the trance of recollection.

"Now you listen here!" the matron sharply responded, "We are severely understaffed and underpaid here! Whenever we saw something, we would make sure all parties involved were justly punished. But we don't have enough eyes. And the other children are too afraid of becoming Thomas' next target should they report him."

"And Harry says nothing?"

"Well…no. He doesn't really have to anymore."

Waiting for the matron to continue, Dumbledore simply nodded his head and waited on her to speak.

"On our summer outing, every year we go to the seaside. A nice house on the cliffs overlooking the sea. Well, Harry wasn't very much interested in playing football with the other children. He never knew how to swim. He really only seemed to find comfort in his books, if I'm being honest. So, he would take his books to this cave in the cliffside, away from everyone else. When I asked him why he went there, he would always just tell me that he felt at home there. So, I made nothing of it.

"But soon the other children found out where he was going, particularly Thomas. And one day Harry came back really bad. He had a broken arm and multiple bruises, but all he would say was that he slipped and fell on a rock."

Dumbledore's eyes widened in horror. But nothing could have prepared him for what the matron next told him.

"The next day, Thomas drowned. Harry hasn't been bullied since."

'What hell has Harry been put through? What hell have I put him through? James, Lily, please forgive me.' But the woman was not finished. "And then there was the incident at the fair."

"There's more?" 'Please. He's already killed one child, please not another. What have I done?'

"Unfortunately." The matron had a truly sorrowful expression on her face as if talking about this particular subject was especially painful for her. "We took the children to a local fair. It was about three months after the Thomas incident. The children seemed to still be down about it, especially Harry. So, we decided to take them all to a local fair to help raise the spirits."

'Well, that's a start. He clearly feels remorse for what he did. It's not too late.'

"A bunch of kids went into the funhouse, a big room filled with mirrors and clowns. Harry went in with a group of kids. When he didn't come out with the rest of the kids, we assumed he was still in there. Two hours later, a crying Harry came running up to me. We couldn't get anything out of him, all he would do was cry and say, "I'm sorry".

"The next day we went back to the fair, but Harry chose to stay behind. Poor boy wouldn't leave his room. When we got the fair, it was closed until further notice. When I asked one of the workers there what happened, he told me four of the clowns hung themselves in the funhouse. A week later Harry admitted to having been…ah…well, there's no real nice way to put this. They abused him."

There was an incredibly awkward silence that filled the room. Dumbledore couldn't think at all, his mind was completely blank. All he could feel was the horror. Eventually, he broke the silence and pressed on. "Was there anything else of note that occurred in his childhood?"

"Well, he was adopted once. The Shanley family, a very lovely couple. They loved Harry when they came to adopt, and he was overjoyed to go with them. They brought him back two weeks later, said he was possessed. Harry hasn't left his room since then."

"When did this happen?"

"Two weeks ago."

Dumbledore reached for the gin and poured himself a glass without asking. 'I've abandoned our savior to monsters. What have I done to Harry, to our savior?' Seeing Dumbledore's pensive look, Mrs. Tuck quickly began to backtrack, fearing she scared off the professor. "I don't mean to paint a bad picture of him. Harry is generally a wonderful boy, very bright and eager to prove himself. He just…he's had a rough go of it, even as orphans go."

Dumbledore recovered from his inner demons and gave the matron an assuring smile. "Of course. It sounds like he is a wonderful child. Would it be possible to meet with him?"

"Of course, of course. He's still in his room I believe. Hopefully talking to someone, not of the orphanage will do some good for him."

She led him out of her office and up the stone stairs, calling out instructions and admonition to helpers and children as she passed. The orphans were all wearing the same kind of grayish tunic. They looked reasonably well-cared for, but there was no denying that this was a grim place in which to grow up.

"Here we are," said Mrs. Tuck, as they turned off the second landing and stopped outside the first door in a long corridor. She knocked twice and entered.

"Harry? You've got a visitor. This is Mr. Dumberton – sorry, Dumbledoors." 'Well, close enough.' "He's come to tell you – well, I'll let him do it."

Dumbledore entered the room, and Mrs. Tuck closed the door on them. It was a small bare room with nothing in it except an old wardrobe and an iron bedstead. A boy was sitting on top of the gray blankets, his legs crossed in front of him, a book in his lap.

It was almost as everyone said. Harry Potter looked exactly like James did at that age. The resemblance was uncanny. But it was the eyes that drew Albus' attention. Everyone had said Harry had Lily's emerald green eyes. And to Albus' great surprise, they weren't. Oh, they were very similar, of that there was no doubt. But Albus had spent enough time around Lily Potter to notice the small difference. Harry's eyes, while very green, were a few shades lighter than Lily's had been. They gave off a slightly different green. 'It's the same color as the Killing Curse.' 'NO! That is James' influence. He had a lighter eye color.'

"How do you do, Harry?" said Dumbledore, walking forward and holding out his hand.

Harry hesitated, then took it, and they shook hands. Dumbledore drew up the hard-wooden chair beside Harry, who remained seated on the bed.

"I am Professor Dumbledore." 'Did she get you in to have a look at me?'

Harry just blinked, waiting for the strange man in front of him to continue.

"I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school – your new school, if you would like to come." 'The asylum, that's where you're from, isn't it?' 'STOP! This is NOT Tom!'

True to form, Harry just nodded and waited for Dumbledore to continue.

"Hogwarts is a school for people with special abilities – it is a school of magic."

Harry finally reacted. His eyes widened, and he sat up straighter. The silence was deafening.

"Magic?" Harry repeated in a whisper.

"That's right," said Dumbledore.

"It's…it's magic, what I can do?"

"What is it that you can do?" 'I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to.'

"I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them…I knew I was different." Harry whispered the last part to himself. "I knew I was special."

"Well, you were quite right," said Dumbledore, who was now smiling at Harry, and the pure joy on his face. "You're a wizard, Harry."

Harry's head shot up, his face alight. "I want to come. How do I enroll?"

"Oh, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled lightly, "You are already enrolled. Your name has been put down since birth."

Harry's eyes widened in shock and amazement before he started to think. Albus could practically see the gears turning in the boy's head, and he knew what was coming next. "Sir, if my name has been put down since birth, who put it down? My parents died in a car crash on the way back from the hospital."

'And here comes the hard part.' "Harry, your parents didn't die in a car crash. They were murdered."

Harry appeared to have lost the ability to speak. His mouth kept moving, trying to form words, but he was incapable of doing so. After a few minutes, he finally managed, "Why?"

"This is a very sad story. There was a wizard who went bad. About at bad as you can go. His name, well, his true name was Tom Riddle. But everyone knew him as Voldemort. The majority of the wizarding world is still afraid to speak his name. He killed, tortured, kidnapped…he singlehandedly started a civil war within the wizarding war."

"Why? What did he want?"

"That, Harry, is not a simple answer. Voldemort wanted many things. For starters, he hated muggles –"

"What are muggles, Sir?"

'Ah, Lily's wit.' "Non-magic people, Harry. Yes, Voldemort hated muggles, and he believed that magical children born to muggles, or muggle-borns, were not as respectable as those who were born into wizarding families. Your parents fought against him, as your mother was muggle-born, and your father was a strong believer that we are all equal. One night, he broke into your house, intending to kill you all. Your mother ran upstairs to protect you while your father fought Voldemort. Voldemort killed your father, and then killed your mother who was trying to save you."

"And then he just left?" Harry asked skeptically. "And what happened to him? Is he still around?"

"Ah, well that's the curious part, Harry. You see, Voldemort then turned his wand on you. He cast the same killing curse on you that he did on your parents. But somehow, someway you survived. Voldemort's spell backfired, and you stopped him. You're the boy-who-lived."

"I'm the…the what?"

"The boy-who-lived, Harry. You see, no one prior to you had ever survived the killing curse. You did it as a baby, while also defeating one of the most terrifying dark wizards ever. There's not a single witch or wizard who doesn't know your name. Now, as for what happened to Voldemort, well, no one really knows. Some say he died, but I don't believe that. I fear that he is still out there somewhere, not yet strong enough to do anything."

Dumbledore paused to let everything sink in. He fully expected Harry to be showing some sort of emotion: anger, sadness, disappointment, anything. But Harry just sat there, looking deep in thought.

Finally, he began. "Sir…you said there's not a single witch or wizard alive who doesn't know me. If that's true, why was I raised here? Why wasn't anyone willing to raise me?! And if no one was able to take me in, why HERE? Why couldn't have I been in a WIZARDING orphanage?!" Harry was raging by the end and had gotten off the bed to pace the room while he ranted. Quickly realizing his surroundings again, Harry composed himself before addressing the Professor. "I'm sorry, Sir, that was out of line."

'Perhaps for now, but after what I am about to tell him, then he'll truly have a reason to be mad. I am so sorry Harry.' "Harry, I am sorry, but that fault lies with me."

Harry just sat there, stunned.

"Harry, you must understand the time we were living in. No one was safe, even after Voldemort fell. His followers, the continued to attack people following their master's fall. We originally tried to have you stay with your muggle relatives, your aunt and uncle, but they were unable to house another child. So, you were brought here. We checked in with your teachers once a month and even had a watch set up around the orphanage for the first five years. But I had to make sure you were somewhere that no one knew about, somewhere you would be safe from those who would hurt you –"

"I was hurt here!" Harry's sharp voice rang through the room, his eyes alight with rage. Dumbledore winced and flinched back, fully expecting Harry to react like this. 'I have to show him love. This rage can't continue.'

"I know Harry. I know and I am so sorry. There is nothing I can do to change what has happened to you, what you have had to go through. But I can promise you this: bullying is not tolerated at Hogwarts, in any way, shape, or form. During your stay here, no one will hurt you. Your teachers will look out for you, and if you are troubled at all, they will help you sort through everything. Of this, you have my word."

Seeing that Dumbledore had finished, and wanting to move on to a different topic, Harry asked, "Sir, you said I'm enrolled in this school. But what about money? I haven't got any, and I don –"

"Harry, my boy, your parents were very wealthy. Your father came from a long line of wizarding families. Your name is one of the most respected in the wizarding world, and that's without you being the boy-who-lived. All their gold is still in their bank vault and will be available to you at your disposal."

"Brilliant." Harry was smiling again, and Dumbledore was thrilled to move on to a much happier subject. "What will I need, Sir?"

"Ah, of course." Dumbledore reached into his suit pocket and pulled out an envelope. "Here is your official Hogwarts letter, included in it is your supplies list. Would you like me to accompany you to shop? I would be more than willing…"

Harry ran his eyes over the list, his eyes wide as saucers. "No thank you, sir. I can manage on my own. But, could you tell me where to get all this stuff? I've never heard of any of these books before, and I certainly don't know where to get a wand."

Laughing away the disappointment of not accompanying Harry to Diagon Alley, Albus Dumbledore began to explain to Harry just how to find the wizarding marketplace. "And make sure you buy your wand first, Harry. It can sometimes take a while."

Dumbledore stood up to leave, and just as he was about to wish Harry farewell, Harry caught his attention one last time. "Um, excuse me, sir. Could you please tell me more about the wizarding world? Or, at least, tell me where I can read up on it? I don't want to come into this world and not know anything."

"Of course, Harry. I don't have anywhere else to be, so I'll be happy to tell you everything you want to know. Now, as for books…"

And so, Albus Dumbledore began to introduce Harry Potter, the only child of James and Lily Potter, to the world of magic. A world, in which, if there was any true justice, he would never have been forced to miss out on. As Albus lectured, he thought to himself about how well this meeting had gone, and he thanked the fates that Harry was not furious with him. So caught up in his joy, he failed to recognize the deep wells of rage and bitterness that pooled just below the surface of those Avada Kedavra green eyes.