I was born in the mid 90's. Raised in a rural all white town, where I didn't even know about other races until middle school. Sure I'd seen black people on TV but I always thought that they had a really great tan. Suddenly realizing just how sheltered I'd been hit me hard.

I become obsessed with learning, wanting to expand my horizons. I tried to learn a bit about everything so that I could talk intelligently about anything. Eventually I went on to get a bachelor's degree in mathematics.

My plan had been to go into the army but that failed twice over. So I started working overnight security at a hotel and doing some maintenance work. As for my degree, I found out that I dislike higher level math. This continued on until I fell ill at the start of covid. It wasn't covid however that got me. It was the unknown.

Although covid isn't the next black plague and has a pathetically low lethality rate it still really sucks for those who get it bad. My case wasn't so bad immediately. The problem is that it lasted. It took over a year to get a diagnosis, and it wasn't a doctor that finally figured it out.

A physical therapist finally decided to do what my doctors wouldn't. She pulled out a medical text of some kind and went line by line though the whole thing testing each thing that made sense till she found it. Now must of you are wondering the name of this mysterious conditioning that did me in but this isn't what killed me. This conveniently enough was an issue that could be easily corrected through physical therapy. About 6 months of it.

Now you all are wondering how this has anything to do with Harry Potter, but trust me it does. For I've been off of work for 18 whole months. During this time I started catching up on anime, manga, and light novels. That only took 3 months. Leaving a dark void of boredom. I needed something to fill the eternal void of loneliness that was my life during covid. The answer I found was fanfiction. Primarily Harry Potter fanfiction.

That was then however and this is now. May 2020 happened not only to be when we seemed to finally be getting ahead of covid but also when I got healthy and started applying for jobs. However this is also now 1980. One day I went to bed having applied to a museum as an overnight security guard, and the next I didn't wake up.

Correction: I did wake up, but I also didn't. For you see, having not yet even been born my new body wasn't able to handle a state which I would consider being fully conscious. I felt like slipping in and out of a lucid dream where you can't actually control anything, not that there was even anything to control, and every single time you feel a bit closer to being able to control existence itself.

This was amazing. Being born however was less than amazing. First everything starts contracting in waves of pressure. Your head literally starts condensing from the pressure of it, and the fact that your bones are still soft. As it feels like you're being crushed alive and you feel like it couldn't possibly get any worse, it does. From being crushed to being set on fire with liquid flames that you're drowning in. Crying and coughing, trying to get the flames out of your lounges. Then, Finally you slip blissfully away into unconsciousness while still being conscious do to your tiny baby brain.

Needless to say I was less than happy. I would later learn that this resulted in me being the youngest person ever to use accidental magic. I cleaned off my own body, wrapped myself up in a blanket, stuffed myself in the cupboard under the sink where it was cool, dark and cozy, and finally locked the cupboard so that none could disturb my rest.

While I was doing all of that my mother, Lily Potter, had a heart attack from the combined stress of giving birth and seeing what appeared to be a healer throwing her baby away. My father, also seeing the healer throw me, tried to get over to me only for his wife to have a heart attack. Now trying to go left towards me and right towards my mother resulted in him tripping over his own feet and careening head first into a wall resulting in a fractured skull and a seizure.

The healer seeing me fly out of her hands moved to catch me while a nurse moved to aid my mother while another nurse moved to catch my father. This led to a three way headbutt into unconsciousness but no serious injuries. Speaking of Sirius he dove for me crashing head first into the door of the cupboard. Having a rather thick head all he got for his efforts was a small lump on his head. Unfortunately Uncle Petty also dove for me, head first into Black's head. This gave Sirius another lump but knocked Peter out.

Never call Sirius a quitter though, for despite having had his head hit twice he still had his eyes on the prize being me. So he stood up, and drew his wand only to turn around at the sound of the door being broken open.

Turns out the being under the rain of terror of a megalomaniacal dark lord makes people a bit jumpy. So when a passing Hit Wizard heard the commotion his PTSD triggered causing him to assume that the Potters were under attack. Despite this being a rather reasonable conclusion to make, his response was less so. Unlike Aurors who are the magical version of regular cops, Hit Wizards are the magical equivalent of a cross between infantry and SWAT. They are accustomed to using force and a lot of it. So his response to the sound of violent fighting, and pained, desperate screams in the middle Saint Mungo's was to cast bombarda at the door. The door and resulting shrapnel landed on the healer and two nurses resulting in numerous lacerations, splinters, a dislocated shoulder, three broken fingers, and a broken nose.

Seeing Sirius, the only one in the room standing, turn towards him with his wand drawn, the Hit Wizard naturally concluded that Sirius was under the effects of the Imperious Curse. So he started to cast a stunning charm at Serious.

Auror Black unfortunately had some PTSD of his own. With the shock of everything going on around him, as well as having taken two hard blows to the head, he felt like his family were under attack and dying all around him. Under the effects of PTSD he switched the cause and effect and assumed that the Hit Wizard was responsible for this all, so he cast a piercing charm at their "attacker" without even noticing the stunning charm flying at him. This resulted in him collapsing head first onto Peter's head leaving the both unconscious with severe concussions.

The Hit Wizard noticed mid cast that Sirius was casting a potentially lethal charm at him. So upon finishing his spell he dove to the side head first into a gurney. This resulted in a fractured skull and a broken neck. Now to be fair to the Hit Wizard that piercing charm was originally going to carve out his heart and kill him. So in the choice between dying and being temporarily paralyzed from the neck down while unconscious he made the right call.

Thankfully for everyone involved, all of this chaos also attracted a full team of qualified and experienced healers. It only took them 6 hours to heal everyone and wake them all up. Unfortunately the chaos also caused them to overlook what section they were in. So when Lily Potter woke up screaming "where's my baby?", their response was to ask, "What baby?". So hearing that some idiot threw out a new born baby a whole lot of healers started dumpster diving.

All of this chaos was eventually solved by a janitor running low on some cleaning supplies. He opened up my cupboard to grab some more only to find me still asleep in my warm blanket.

Obviously this whole tale makes for a really good news story. So the next day a certain dark lord read an article about a magically powerful baby born as the seventh month dies creating a mess in Saint Mungo's.