Chapter 2
Harry was up at the crack of dawn, the previous night's conversation still weighed heavy in his mind. A wizard. He was a wizard. More than that his father told him he was famous for killing some dark lord. This same dark lord that killed his birth parents. Harry could not help but feel a twinge of pain in his gut at that thought. He never knew his parents but the feeling of loss was still there. As Harry got out of bed he dropped down cross legged to begin his morning meditations. He would first clear his mind; while he initially struggled with this part, he was able to master it after a few weeks. Once done with his meditations he would eat a light breakfast and then follow his father in whatever workouts and schooling he had prepared for Harry that day. Before Harry left his room, he glanced at his shirtless form in the mirror. He was quite happy with his progress but hated to see the scars littering his chest, shoulders, and back. Little Parting gifts from his time living with his Aunt and Uncle. After a quick shower, Harry entered the kitchen. The letter from the previous night sat at the center of the table, a reminder of the lengthy conversation that followed its arrival.
12 Hours previously
"Sit down Harry, we need to talk." Harry's father said in a stern yet calming voice. Harry moved to sit in the chair across from his father and looked at the letter in his hand with slight trepidation. "What is that?" he said in a small voice, trying to conceal the concern in his voice. His father put the letter down on the table with a sigh and rubbed the stubble on his cheeks. His father was not a large man. He stood at about 6 feet and was lean with slight muscle. His hair was combed back and specks of silver could be seen in his dark bronze hair. He had slight stubble growing on his angular and his high cheekbones made his appearance very aristocratic. From the time Harry had met him about 3 years prior, Harry had felt nothing but respect for the man. While he was not large, he carried himself with a sense of purpose and determination which set him apart from the rest. However; that presence was gone now, and Harry could almost see a slight look of uncertainty in the eyes of the man that raised him. That scared Harry. That scared Harry a lot. His father rubbed his face again and let out a sigh, straightening his back and looking directly at Harry. "Do you remember the day we met?" his father started before pausing slightly and getting a far away look in his eyes. "When I found you in that orphanage you were extremely malnourished, you looked on the brink of death. I did not immediately realize who you were. I just thought you needed help. That is why I adopted you. I want you to know that." his father let out a shuddering breath. "There is a lot about me I should tell you. That you deserve to know. But now is not the time. Now we have to focus on you, and your future." He indicated to the letter with one hand "this letter is from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Yes Harry, you heard that right, but let me finish. Now everyone considers it the most prestigious school in the wizarding world. That is a load of bullshit. It is a death trap. Truly it is." His father paused to look at Harry. "Son, you will be attending this school" he held up his hand to stop the protest that was evident on Harry's face. "Let me finish, you will be attending this school because you are required to, not because I want you to. The laws in the Wizarding World are much different than ours. Each child is put on a school roster at birth. Some influential families are able to use their money to gain favor at some schools versus others, but usually it comes down to how close a family is to one school or another. Now your family, the Potters, were from London, Hogwarts is in Scotland so they were closest to that school. There are many others but that is a story for a different day. Your family was very influential back in the day, however I do not know anything about your family now. You see Harry, when you were a baby the Wizarding World was at war. A dark wizard rose up. He won over many of the people with promises of power, safety, security, and freedom. He quickly gained a foothold and began to push the idea that those without magical powers were beneath us. That those with magical powers were better and that it was our right to rule. For many years you have known me as dad. However, before I became your father I went by another name. Cyrus Nox. Again, at some point I will tell you the story of my life, but that moment is not now." Cyrus said with a small smile as he rubbed his left arm slightly. It all changed one night though. One night the dark lord fought an enemy he could not beat. You see Harry, your family decided to fight against him, and that was not something he took lightly. As i said your family was very influential at the time, so their support would make a huge difference in the war. They chose to oppose him. The dark lord took that as a personal insult and so one night, he chose to take his perceived pound of flesh. He attacked your family, killing your mother and father. He tried to kill you too." At this point Cyrus pointed to the scar on Harry's forehead. " He gave you that scar, something about you caused his downfall. And with that downfall, his followers were forced to scatter. Many will hate you for what you did, some will try to harm you. So that means we must get you prepared. This coming school year will not be easy, and you will need any advantages you can get." Cyrus stood up and pushed in his chair. "We start early tomorrow, go get some rest."
Present
After finishing a quick breakfast Harry switched into a pair of shorts and a workout shirt. He threw in his earbuds and began his morning run. As he exited the house the opening chords to "Hometown" by Cleopatrick began to filter into his ears. He took off at a quick jog, allowing his body to warm up and by the time he was at a dead sprint the song was almost over being replaced by the soothing voice of Jefferson Airplane as "white rabbit" began to hum in his ears. Harry finished his run in a mere 15 minutes and as he headed home he could not help but notice an overwhelming amount of fire trucks headed down his block. As Harry turned onto his street he saw his home engulfed in flames, before he could break into a run an old, beat up, commuter car came to a halt in front of him as his father opened the door covered in soot. "Get in,'' he said in a commanding and urgent voice. "We have to leave. Now"