The evil man raised his wand, and called out a dark, evil curse. A green light enveloped the baby, before bouncing back to its caster, who exploded violently. Neither the evil man nor the baby noticed the man standing in the corner, watching the circumstances unfold.
As the evil man exploded, the unseen man raised his own wand, shielding the child from both the blast and subsequent rubble, then set the entire crib in a safe location to await the baby's new life, but not before healing a cut on his face.
Three adults placed the baby on a doorstep, casting spells to protect the child until he was taken in. A single man lurked unseen down the street, and after the other adults left, he added a protective spell of his own to the child.
Six year old Harry Potter was a bright boy, according to his teachers. He was an ungrateful freak, according to his uncle. He was target number one, according to the school bullies.
He was ready to give up. He'd tried sports to make his relatives like him. He'd mastered good manners. He got all A's. None of these had made his aunt and uncle happy.
Right now, however, he was on the run from the gang of bullies run by his cousin Dudley.
Harry was a short and skinny boy, though he had wiry muscle. He had messy black hair and bright green eyes, pale skin, a dorky circular pair of glasses, and a weird scar on his head.
Dudley was big for his age, tall, fat, and very muscular. He had a mean streak to match. Despite his weight, he was quite athletic, and was able to give his cousin a hard chase, and a mean beating.
While looking back to see where Dudley was, Harry ran right into the legs of someone, and bounced off. He looked up to see a man in a black suit, roughly average in height and weight, with long, curly black hair, and eyes that seemed purple in color. The man checked a pocket watch, seemingly not noticing the child who had just run into him. He calmly slid the watch back into his pocket, and looked up just as Dudley and his friends came around the corner and skidded to a stop in front of the man.
The man helped Harry to his feet, glaring at Dudley all the while, who stuttered out. "S- Sorry, sir. We were playing tag."
"Tag usually has one person giving chase, not one person being chased, if I remember correctly," the man responded, voice dripping with sarcasm. "If I catch you bullying this kid again, there will be hell to pay. Begone!"
Dudley gave a sharp nod, and ran away with his friends. The man looked at Harry. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, as he knelt down to Harry's level. Harry nodded, still catching his breath. The man waited patiently for Harry to answer.
"I'm fine," Harry said, rubbing a bruise on his cheek absentmindedly. The man moved Harry's hand from his cheek and brushed his finger over the bruise. Harry jerked back, feeling a shock. "You shocked me!"
The man chuckled. "I'm sorry. It's a small bruise, it should be gone very soon." He turned serious. "This happens a lot, I'm guessing?"
Harry nodded, not speaking.
The man fished a journal and pen out of his pocket, and ripped a page from the back out. He scribbled down an address and directions. "This is a library near here. You'll be safe from the bullies there, though you'll be expected to be reading or working on homework the entire time you're there."
Harry smiled. "Thanks, mister!" His smile fell. "My aunt and uncle won't pay to let me go, though."
The man scowled for a moment, before returning to his kind expression. He leaned in close and whispered as if he were sharing a secret. "They pay for it from their taxes." He grinned. "It's free, I promise."
He abruptly stood, and checked his watch. "I'm sorry, but I have to be going now. Have a nice day, kiddo." He then walked away, moving quickly, as if he was running late.
Harry read the address on the paper, and decided to go check out the library.
Eight year old Harry Potter was running from his cousin. Again. He ran into a dead end, and panicked. Dudley and his gang came around the corner, grinning wickedly. He swaggered up to Harry.
"Can't get away now, can ya?" He grinned. He raised his fist to hit Harry. Harry shoved his cousin, hoping to knock Dudley off balance so he could run. Dudley didn't stagger back - he flew back a few feet and landed on his butt. His eyes flew wide and he ran away, followed by his cronies.
Harry looked at his hands. "What did I just do?" He asked out loud.
"Magic," a voice answered him, amusement lightening the tone. Harry's eyes snapped up to see a suited stranger with oddly familiar purple eyes.
"Don't be ridiculous! Magic isn't real!" Harry huffed.
"Then how did you do that?" The stranger retorted with a laugh.
Harry looked at his hands again, then back to the stranger. "If I can use magic, and you know what it is, can you teach me to use it?"
"That depends. Prove to me that you deserve my teaching."
Harry screwed up his nose in thought regarding the stranger. Suddenly, a stray memory passed his eyes. He'd seen this stranger before! At the park, at the library, on his way to school - the man who gave him the library's address!
"You've been following me!" He exclaimed. "You knew about me! You helped me out that time!"
The stranger smiled and bowed theatrically. "You can think of me as a... guardian angel," he said.
Harry frowned. "You haven't done a lot of guarding," he accused.
The stranger shrugged. "Those bullies are no danger to you, as you have learned today. I intervened when they would have actually hurt you. You handled the rest by going to the safe place I showed you."
"So will you reach me magic then, mister guardian angel?"
"You've shown an admirable memory, but you've yet to prove you deserve tutoring."
"How can I prove that, then?" Harry asked, both excited and worried.
The stranger hummed. "I'll show you a spell, and if you do a good job casting it yourself, I'll take you on as my apprentice."
He pulled out a wooden stick that Harry assumed was a magic wand. He held it straight out, and said, "Lumos." A small, dim light appeared between the two, then faded out of existence. He handed Harry the wand, and waited expectantly.
Harry realized that he wasn't going to get an explanation or instructions, so he had to get this right on his own. Making sure he remembered the word right, he held the wand out, and focused as hard as he could on a light appearing. "Lumos!" he said. A light flickered at the end of the wand, and Harry's face fell.
The man took his wand back, and smiled. "You have natural talent," he assured Harry. "I'll teach you. In the library, meet me alongside the tutors on Tuesdays and Fridays. Don't worry, nobody will notice. And I expect you there. If the library is open, you will meet me, or you lose your apprenticeship."
Harry grinned, ecstatic.
"Furthermore, I expect you to continue getting good grades in school, and reading outside of school. A solid education and strong imagination will only help you, no matter the path you take."
Harry nodded. "Oh, sir, what do I call people who use magic? And, uh, what do I call you?"
The man nodded, thoughtfully. "Magic users are called mages in general. While witchcraft, wizardry, and sorcery are technically different methods of casting magic, most magicks today are just sorcery, and boy mages are called wizards, and girl mages are called witches in the modern age. I won't tell you my name, because names have power. It may be a lost art now, but any person who studies the old magicks knows.
"But you can call me Eamon. I expect you to take on another name, yourself, some day. Even if you don't use it in public, it will protect you from lower level manipulations using your name. What shall I call you?"
"Well, my name is Harry," Harry said. "How can I take on a name?"
"I'll show you that when we get there," Eamon replied. "Don't worry, though I know how to use a name, I won't, and nobody you know now can."
Harry relaxed hearing that.
"Now, I need to make sure your cousin and his friends don't remember what you did," Eamon said, and he left.
Harry was puzzled, then concerned. 'He can change memories? What can't magic do? What have I just agreed to?'
A/N: I SWEAR I am working on my other stuff. This idea hit me at work and I literally wrote it in my break. If it's good, lemme know, and I'll continue it. Otherwise I will drop it, and refocus my efforts back to my main story.