Albus Dumbledore, known as the most powerful warlock of Europe, and one of the most powerful wizards in the world alive, was sucking on his lemon drops, walking innocently through the Halls of the Hogwarts when it happened.

Albus had been on his tenth lemon drop for the day, normally it was seventh or eighth when he was entering the Entrance Hall. A boy of about the age of ten or eleven who looked quite a bit like Fleamont Potter, the inventor of Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, and Euphemia Potter. If he was correct, they had a little boy starting Hogwarts this year!

Was this the boy?

Albus does not think so if he were to guess, and his guesses were usually correct.

Albus knew that nobody in the Potter Family, or for that matter most Wizarding Families, had such beautiful Emerald Rings as pupils. No, these pupils were something not common, as green was one of the rarest eye colours if he were correct!

Albus had walked up to the boy when the boy had moved back as if on instinct as if expecting Albus to say something harsh and rude. Was the boy abused?

Albus said, "Child, who are you?"

The boy looked around as if seeing for the first time that he was in Hogwarts, surely that was not the case, while absently said, "Harry Peverell."

Albus looked over his half-crescent spectacles curiously. This boy was stating that he was an heir of a bloodline long unheard of. Albus had learnt about this from his father at a young age, before he went to Azkaban, that the last of Peverells had mixed with Potters.

Was he a Potter then?

Albus stroked his long white beard and then asked, "Are you sure, m'boy?" The boy nodded absentmindedly! Who was he to ignore Albus?!

Albus calmed himself. This was an ignorant boy who knows nothing about anything in the world for his parent must have kept him safe from Voldemort that way! Did they?

Albus said, "Child, can I peer in your mind for in these dark Dark Times we have nothing else to verify. I must know if your assumption is the truth for I am responsible for this place."

The boy nodded timidly. Why was the boy his age not saying much? Surely he would have denied the Mind Arts and insisted that he was the truth. It was if he was surprised I even asked his permission!

Albus locked his eyes with the boy and then peered inside.

Inside the boy's mind was the chaos Albus did not want to see. Ten Years of neglect, and verbal and mental abuse! A year of love and the night of Halloween with death. Trolls and Cerebuses and Dark Lords as Parasites! What has this boy been through?

And the boy, Harry Potter!, was born on- how?

31st July 1981.

Harry ex-Potter, now-Peverell, has a mind that is just a lot . . . difficult to say the least.

The Old Man of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, he remembered had said that Harry has a type of mind which was difficult to read. He had said that Harry was from the future and got sent here by a house-elf, what is that so that he can be safe.

Dumbledore had said that he will never get the Philosopher's Stone in Hogwarts as well as get Hagrid some common sense. Who was Hagrid anyway?

Dumbledore then told him that he will arrange school for Harry and then explain magic to him. MAGIC WAS REAL! And supposedly Harry had survived twelve or thirteen things that he should not have.

With all of them, the cause was an evil wizard called Wall De More, or something like that. Harry does not understand that much French, Gibberish and English. Harry likes peaceful silence with Quidditch. What is it again?

Harry, as far as he knows this is his name, only remembers one thing. Some actually.

Harry remembers a green light.

Choking on a little golden ball.

Seeing a big three-headed dog.

Spending time with some people, friends maybe, playing.

Getting a silver piece of large cloth.

And finally, a broomstick hitting a person with red hair in the face.

The last one, according to Dumbledore, was the most important. Why? Harry did not know. Harry would like to laugh at that memory though.

1 September 1971

Harry Peverell roamed in the Hogwarts Express. He had been living in this engine for a day. Albus Dumbledore had said that Harry will reach Hogwarts again with this directly, so Harry had come aboard this train as it drove.

Harry got sweets for meals. Great Life.

A knock on the compartment door brought Harry out of his muses.

A mirror was brought in by two boys. The first boy had black hair that shined grey in sunlight, they were shoulder-length and had expensive-looking robes on his body. These were some nice uniforms. He had a broken nose and mischievous looking grey eyes.

The second boy had short brown hair and warm brown eyes. He looked tired and was wearing similar robes to Harry's.

Harry looked at the mirror and noticed his eyes were a hazel colour in them. Maybe the mirror was out of order and the duo carried it over here?

Harry noticed closely in between the beams of sunlight and blurry focus of his glasses to see that the reflection was just a similar-looking boy. No big deal. Just a doppelgänger.

A doppelgänger!

Harry's eyes widened as he looked at the boy. He stuttered out, "H-how y-y-you m-m-me l-l-loo-ok so-a-am-me?"

The boy shrugged and said, "You must be a muggle-born then. Many people look the same in the wizarding world, we are related to each other by blood. You know the same families reproducing with each other."

The boy with long-ish hair said, "You mean inc-. That. Yeah, my family is full of it. Jamie, he must be descendant of a squib from Potter Family."

The doppelgänger, Jamie, said, "Black, my family has no squibs. We have recorded data of every wizard and witch and to whom they married. We are of such a low number of people that I can count on a couple of feet of parchment."

The brown-haired boy rolled his eyes and said to Harry, "These bunch of immature idiots are newfound friends who are discussing inappropriate things they should not have known. Call them Mr Dumb and Mr Slythers. I am Frank Longbottom."

"Well, at least we don't have inappropriate family names!" Mr Slythers retorted.

Harry snorted and said, "I am an eleven-year-old who has amnesia. The name is Harry Peverell. Feeling disturbed to meet you."

"I like that one!" Dumb Jamie said.

Frank rolled his eyes and then said, "Of course you will like your look alike."

The compartment door opened the second time to reveal a scared-looking boy around Harry's age. He stopped as he saw the four people, his eyes widened.

The boy ran out of the place.