The wizened men in colorful robes stood with anger in his heart, sadness in his eyes. They had given up the girl, how could the family discard their own blood? To an orphanage she was sent still young, without the protection her mother's sacrifice had granted. Was she still alive? The old wizard hoped she was, or everything would be lost.

Was he too late? Built over an old burial ground, stood an orphanage, his memory of young Tom still fresh in his mind, burning like hot coal. Five steps through the door and he could see so much, it just didn't feel right. In another time, such similar pitiful gray walls, tainted by fear and faith. How did these kids last through the winter? he wondered to himself. The old wizard charmed staff, gently probing minds for information, and they all remembered the fall. They remembered a small, frail girl, possessed by the devil. Young Vivien had fallen from the third floor, never to be seen again. Unobstructed he wandered through, the girl had no belongings to be packed.

He found an old nun, she did remember the fall. His heart broke as he saw the memory of a small girl tied to a chair, dread in tear stricken silver eyes. She really fell, and that level of accidental magic, he had only seen once before.

The playground was a pitiful sight, the metal toys were broken and rusted, the sand was hard and shallow. The constant rain left puddles all around, and if you weren't careful you'd find yourself knee deep in water. Dumbledore whispered magic words, gentle motions with his fingers helping the process run smoothly. His detection spells revealed nothing, which didn't necessarily make the old wizard think the worse, the girl could have been very far from there at that point, and to Dumbledore's horror, all his searching through the vast forest would be futile.


Months later, Hogwarts.

Minerva read the letter for the second time, her heart pounded as incredulity marked her features.

Dear Ms. Potter,

The letter was addressed to the Potter girl. Minerva Mcgonagall almost fainted when she read: Galloway Forest Park, Newton Stewart, United Kingdom.

Vivien Potter had been alone in a forest for a year. Dumbledore had tried to find her, but everything failed. They sent owls to track her location, did everything they could to find the girl without alerting the ministry, but this was confirmation, Vivien was alive still. Hogwarts herself attested to that.

The Deputy Headmistress decided she couldn't wait for Dumbledore to return to the castle, and immediately went after the girl. She'd find her herself or die trying. They abandoned young Vivien to her fate, and she'd right her wrongs.

She apparated near the orphanage, gave it nothing but a glance. ''Appare Vestigium'' she spoke, but no magical signal was found. Mcgonagall pondered, a regal pose struck at the edge of the woods. Moments later, a cat sped into the woods. The old fashioned way it'd be.


It took most of the week, and Minerva felt drained. She tried many things, including apparating back to Hogwarts to get herself a broom, to sweep over the vast greenery.

One afternoon, as the witch stalked the woods in her animagus form, she could smell it. She couldn't place the scent, but it was comforting, like home. After a short while, sensitive feline ears picked up faint running water, and she was not prepared to what she'd see next.

Her tracking took her to a big clearing, and little paws ran to investigate. On the far side of the clearing, a makeshift camp could be found, the shelter was made of branches and twigs, a protective black tarp with dry leaver covering it as a final touch.

Curious, the cat entered the shelter, and in there she found a sleeping bag, backpacks Vivien had probably stolen, books and other small survival tools and trinkets. Although this shelter was too small for two people, a ten year old girl couldn't have made this all alone, everything was too complex and well built. Minerva decided she had to observe the girl for a while, to figure out who was there with her.

The campsite had a well made spot for a fire, which by the embers had recently been used. On a stump clearly used for prepping, she found a smooth, round rock. One side was comfortable to grip, while the other came down to a sharp slicing edge. The rock was beautiful, and it had that same, faint smell. It was sweet and earthy, like the calm sea at night. She just sat there for a while, dumbstruck as she admired it. When she came out of her reverie, she pressed on.

At the other edge of the clearing, a nice array of berry bushes and fruit trees could be found, it seemed like Vivien had found a blessed oasis within the harsh environment. She broke the tree line, still following the sounds of running water.

She was the deputy headmistress of the biggest school of magic in, arguably, the whole world. She was a master of transfiguration, to a level rarely seen. And yet, in all the words in her vast vernacular, the only word she could use to describe Vivien Potter was magical.

Dancing in the shallows of a river, Vivien Potter was, to Minerva's immense surprise, healthy. Not only that, she looked happy. This new information attested to the fact the girl wasn't alone, and as much as it hurt her, she knew she couldn't just grab the girl and take her away, she had to be careful dealing with her.

The small girl left the river carrying a squirming fish, and on her way, picked up a handful of stones. She finished setting up what appeared to be an intricate sundial, where the old witch saw that the fading sunlight shone past 6pm. The young girl smiled, small pale hands grabbed a handful of plump, strange black berries that grew all over long branches. The girl plopped some on her mouth, and walked into her makeshift camp. Minerva watched with a mix of horror and fascination the girl gut and clean the fish with the beautiful round rock. Vivien Potter was something else.


Vivien sat cross legged as she waited for her fish to cook. Night would be there shortly, skies would be hung up with jewels, her nightly communion, which always brought forth valuable knowledge, would start. Like many times before, she felt a presence. This time tapping into her magic to disappear from sight seemed like overshooting, so she decided to double her attention. From the tree line a silver cat came, its gait unsure. She felt ecstatic, the possibility of having a cat and not being so alone bringing tears to her eyes. don't scare him away. she thought, and with shaky fingers she gathered some of the cooked fish. The little girl waited patiently for the cat to approach, and when it ate out of her hand her smile was genuine. The next couple minutes were full of joy, she shared a meal with her new cat, and decided she'd think of a name for it.

But like every moment of happiness in Vivien's life, it was short lived. When the first rays of moonlight reached them, a voice she hadn't heard in a while spoke. Not what it seems. deceiver. and in a second, Vivien's mist form took over, and she was gone.


Her back hit wood, analytical silver eyes scanning the scene in front of her. In the moonlit clearing the cat sat, its magic burning bright to Vivien's now extra sensitive senses. Suddenly she felt the feline's magic morph, and before her very eyes, the cat turned into a thin tall woman with a comically large hat. Silver eyes shone with unasked questions.

After a long pause, the woman spoke.

"Vivien, you've been running and hiding much too long." The witch licked her thin lips, and with barely there frustration she added. "Darling girl, won't you ease my worried mind?"

Her voice echoed, emotion clear in her tone.

Her name had been spoken, she could barely pay attention to other words uttered by the middle aged witch.

Vivien hesitated, she didn't remember the last time she spoke. In the orphanage she was always the silent type, only speaking when spoken to. She did her best, but when a cough threatened to break her stealth, she dropped her physical form. Slowly the white mist once again took shape, and with effort she spoke.

"You say a lot for someone who wasn't there." The raspy voice came from many places at once, and the woman was made stiff, frantically looking for a source.

"I had no clue. We thought you were safe with your family. Neither I nor Albus would have left you in that dreadful orphanage."

The girl let the silence stretch, she wasn't used to talking, and the short words seemed to have drained her from energy. "Who are you?" Barely a whisper, but her magic carried the sound loud and clear.

The witch adjusted her robes, and proudly spoke. "My name is Minerva Mcgonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts, the most prestigious school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world." She waited for a response, and when none came, she kept on. "We thought we had lost you, but when magic put your name on this acceptance letter," - with a flourish of her hand, a pristine white letter appeared from thin air. "I had to come here myself, it's an honor to deliver it to you, miss Potter."

Potter. Vivien Potter. So that was her name. She thought to herself with a small amount of reverence. The witch stood there, letter in hand. A clear invitation for the girl to step into the light. She did just that.

Mcgonagall saw the small girl breaking the tree line. She wore what was left of a short black dress, and a brown jacket way too oversized for her small frame. Minerva knew she had either stolen or scavenged for it. The girl had long untamed black hair, a curious streak of silver falling over where she knew was her infamous scar. Silvery blue eyes met hers, full of mistrust but a bit of wonder. She offered the latter, and small fingers clutched it. Respecting the silence, taking in more of the girl as she read, she looked a lot like her parents, she'd certainly grow into a beautiful young lady.

Silver eyes met hers once again. "When you're always locked inside, life is boring.'' and another moment of heavy silence followed. ''Can't be hurt here.''

From the old witch's crackling heart a painful gasp arose, Albus had told her about the treatment the girl received, and she wouldn't wish it on her worst enemy. She wouldn't let this girl turn out like young Tom did. ''We have much to teach you. And as good as your life is here, you're not safe. It's not proper for a young lady such as yourself. We know you, we knew your parents.'' She pleaded, slowly kneeling down, and gently not to scare the girl, grabbing her hands. ''This isn't what your parents would have wanted for you. They would want you at school, with friends and people around, to give you the love and help you deserve.''

Vivien didn't notice the tears freely flowing down her pale face, but when she remembered the promise her moon made her, of star crossed love, and the faith she had accepted to herself, she gently nodded. Hogwarts would be her new home.