May 26th, 1980 – London, England.
An old woman, about sixty years old, was sitting on the living room of the house she lived in, this house was a home for several children who had no one in the world, an orphanage. She was calmly sipping on her tea, when the cries of a baby startled her, she huffed in exasperation before getting up from her seat, there were a couple of infants in the house, two, one was eleven months, while the other was already a year old. She walked towards the stairs when she noticed the noise wasn't coming from the dormitories, but from the front door. The woman frowned in confusion before making way to the door, she peeked through the door hole, there was no one in sight, and the cries had not stopped.
The old woman was startled by the sound of a door behind her opening, she turned around slightly to see Deborah, a younger woman that worked with her in the orphanage, she was the newest member of the staff, and being the youngest still had some spirit in her. – "Whose crying, Mrs. Martha?" Deborah asked, whispering. Deborah was in her mid-twenties, she had ginger hair and light blue eyes, fair skin and a perfect smile, most of the teenagers in the orphanage always found her extremely attractive, but she was always sweet with everyone, caring and loving, still she knew when to place boundaries.
The woman in question opened the door slightly, the cries becoming louder with each inch the door opened. Once it was fully opened the source of the noise could be made out, it was an infant, a baby that looked just newborn, Martha was stuck in place, she eyed the street, it was past ten in the night, there was not a soul in sight, she carefully stepped past the baby and looked around, no one in sight. When Martha turned around after a couple minutes of looking around, the baby's cries had ceased, and Deborah was now carefully holding him.
Deborah smiled at the baby even though he seemed like a newborn his eyes were wide open staring at her, they were a beautiful shade of blue that almost looked gray from certain angle, his hair was sandy blonde, and curiously his head was full of it, full of sandy blonde curly hair, and his skin was slightly red, form what looked like a rash on his face but was otherwise a pale ivory shade, she bounced him lightly still calming him down, he still had tears on his eyes and was sniffling lightly, she checked the cold and slightly wet cheap feeling blanket he was wrapped in, he was wearing a yellow onesie that seemed a tad too big for him and he smelled like he needed a bath soon. – "There's no note, nothing here." Deborah stated, fumbling with the blanked.
Martha sighed. – "Give it here." She ordered, extending her hands, Deborah stepped closer to hand the baby. – "I'll take him to the police, it's not our problem."
Deborah froze immediately before stepping back. – "You can't, what are they going to do?"
- "Hopefully search for whomever was heartless enough to leave this creature here." Martha answered plainly. She shook her hands gently, urging Deborah to hand the baby over.
- "Mrs. Martha, we are supposed to look after children who have no one else." Deborah answered, turning her sight to the baby in her arms. – "He doesn't have anyone else. In any way he would be sent to on orphanage, just like ours." She turned back to Martha, and her annoyed face. – "We have space, we have the capacity for twenty children, and we are only taking care of thirteen. I'll take care of him."
Martha sighed in exasperation. – "It's too late for this anyway, let's go to bed." She answered, stepping beside Deborah, into the two-story house. Deborah smiled once more at the baby he cooed back lowly before closing his eyes, she turned around and made way towards her room, she took some of the softest blankets she could find on her wardrobe and placed them neatly on the floor making a small space for the baby to sleep.
Deborah cooed at the baby while she changed him out of his clothes, there she got confirmation that the baby was indeed a boy and looked slightly skinny, she smiled at him while he focused his eyes on hers before taking his hand to his mouth and sucking his thumb, he was mostly silent after being changed out of his diaper and fell asleep almost immediately after that.
May 27th, 1980 –Great Ormond Street Hospital, London.
Deborah watched silently while the doctor examined the baby, she could make some concerned faces every now and then, the baby would occasionally turn his head towards her and look at her in the eyes, sometimes making noises of discomfort, but was otherwise very still during the whole examination, even during the taking of his blood he was very still. – "I'm surprised." The doctor spoke softly, she was now taking the blood towards the machine to make the blood test. – "Most babies cry without stop when I have to pinch them."
Deborah smiled and stood up from her chair. – "How does he look?" She asked softly, holding the baby's forearm in her hand carefully.
The doctor took a seat on her desk after placing the blood on the machine. – "For what I can see, this baby should not be older than two months, you said he was just left at your doorstep?" She took a minute to write something down. – "He seems malnourished and has a slight allergy, that seems pretty new."
Deborah nodded her head. – "Yeah, he came in a cheap feeling blanket and was wearing a cloth diaper that was used."
The doctor nodded her head, writing something else down, a minute later the machine beside her beeped and printed the blood test results. – "Yeah, just like I thought, he is malnourished. Otherwise seems rather healthy. I will give you the name of the formula you will need to feed him and an unguent for his rash." She stopped writing and sighed. – "Are you sure you saw no one?"
Deborah nodded her head. – "Mrs. Martha, the matriarch at the orphanage I work at, saw no one as well, she advised me to take him to the police."
The doctor nodded her head. – "They may be able to locate the parents if there is a birth certificate, but it's otherwise unlikely." She handed Deborah the paper. – "I'll need to see him every week, to make sure he is recovering properly." Deborah took the paper and nodded her head; she took the baby in her arms before waving the doctor goodbye and leaving the room. She took the day go to the police station and make every possible effort to locate the baby's parents. A task that proved futile, there was no birth certificate for the baby and not a sign of his parents. After this Deborah decided to name the baby – Alexander Whitmore. Like her great grandfather it was a surname she did not have, but it was still part of her family.
November 1st, 1981 – Privet Drive – Little Whinging.
An old man was walking through the street when he took out a small flask out of his robes, he was dressed in a colorful robe, bright green and a matching pointed hat, he had long white hair and a long beard that was tied at its end with a red string, he had porcelain wrinkled skin, signaling his advanced age, and a pair of crescent moon shaped glasses over his long nose. He extended his hand and opened the small flask, immediately the light from every streetlamp. He heard the low meow of a cat and turned his sight to the left slightly, locating the source of the sound, it was a tabby stripped cat, who had a very interesting pattern on its face, almost like a pair of glasses. – "Good evening, Professor McGonagall." The man stated warmly.
The cat took a couple of steps before it transformed into an elderly woman, dressed in similar robes. – "Good evening, Professor Dumbledore." She walked towards the man. – "Are the rumors true?"
Dumbledore nodded his head. – "Yes, I am afraid so. The good and the bad."
McGonagall sighed in sorrow; she had known the family personally. – "And the boy?"
- "Hagrid is bringing him." Dumbledore answered.
McGonagall turned to Dumbledore. – "You think it's wise to trust Hagrid with such a matter."
Dumbledore smiled at her and spoke warmly. – "I would trust Hagrid with my life."
Just then the noise from a motor soaring could be heard, both people turned their sights to the noise, there was a bright light coming from the sky, a few seconds after a motorcycle driven by a man that was way too big for it came down and to a stop just in front of them. The man took off his goggles and smiled at the pair. – "Professor Dumbledore, sir. Professor McGonagall. Good evening." He acknowledged them.
Dumbledore smiled, the man got off his bike, he was standing now at an impressive eight feet. – "Hagrid, I trust there was no issue."
The man walked over them, a hand holding the blanked he had tied across his chest. – "None at all professors, the little man fell asleep some time ago."
He handed the blanked carefully to the professor. There was a baby boy in it, with a curious lightning shaped scar on the right side of his forehead. – "Careful." He stated when McGonagall grabbed the baby.
- "This boy will be famous, there won't be a child in our world who doesn't know his name." McGonagall stated. The started walking towards one of the houses behind Dumbledore. – "Are you sure you want to leave him here?" McGonagall asked Dumbledore.
Dumbledore turned around and took the baby carefully from her hands. – "They are the only family he has." He placed the baby on the doorstep.
McGonagall shook her head. – "But they are the worst kind of Muggles I have ever seen."
Dumbledore nodded his head. – "I have left explicit notes." He took a letter out of his robes. He turned towards the baby. – "If she takes him in, the protection here will be so powerful no harm from our world could possibly break it, at least until he is of age." Hagrid sniffled behind the professors, causing Dumbledore to turn to him with a warm smile. – "There, there Hagrid, remember, it's not really goodbye after all." Everyone turned to the baby on the doorstep, Dumbledore placed the letter carefully over him. – "Good luck, Harry Potter."
November 29th, 1989 – London, England.
Alexander was sleeping quietly on a tree he had climbed the night before, he had expertly checked for any animals on it, and besides a couple of squirrels there was nothing else. He was jerked awake by the birds singing near him, this was after all a park, he opened his eyes lazily to stare at the beams of light coming through the leaves. He sat up, carefully and looked down, he was high enough to not be seen by any bystanders, unless they were actually looking for him. He sighed. He was hungry, he had not eaten in two days and now would need to retort to bending someone's mind to get money, or pickpocketing. Neither caused him any joy, if there was one thing, he lamented from leaving his second orphanage now was the three meals a day he would receive.
He carefully got down from the tree and stared on ahead to the end of the park, there weren't many people around, but he spotted at the very end a man dressed in a very formal attire, a suit. He peeked through his mind, trying to avoid information that was very personal, just to see if he was as accommodated as he seemed. He knows what the right course of action would be, going to the authorities, getting help the right way, but right now, that wasn't what he wanted, he didn't want to be thrown in a third orphanage. What he wanted was to find his mother, she's got to love him, it's his mother after all. – "She has to." He muttered lightly, still peeking through the man's mind.
He finally found what he wanted. The man was indeed accommodated, just right now for what he could see he carried more money than needed, and Alexander only needed a couple of quid, just enough to get a sandwich from the lovely cart at the other end of the park. He debates, as the man starts to walk out of the park, a discussion he has with himself every time he finds himself in this situation, which was more often than he cared to admit. Finding his mother, a priority, any legal and morally right path he could take, potentially futile. There is no birth certificate from before he was named at the first orphanage, to anyone in the legal side of things his birthday is in May, not even in April. There is no one he trusts, not anyone besides Deborah, the woman who raised him in the first orphanage as lovingly as she could. And that is the precise problem, she loves him, and wants what's best for him so she would probably pick him up and take him with her.
The man was now out of eyesight, he sighed in frustration, making up his mind and going after him, as silently as he has learned over the last couple years. It is actually surprising how people just mind their own business and pay little to no attention to who could be following them. He threaded lightly waiting for the righty moment when it finally came, the man had taken out his wallet to seemingly just secure himself it was still there, Alexander stepped closer silently, waiting for the man to put his wallet back on his pocket. The situation passes as quicky as always, it took Alexander less than ten seconds to take the man's wallet and stay behind while the latter kept on walking. He sighed and looked through it, he took a ten-pound bill and dropped the wallet on the floor before hiding behind a trash bin. He focused his sight on the man's head and proceeded to place a thought of worry in him. The man stopped for a second before patting his pocket and noticing his wallet was not there, he turned around and noticed it laying on the floor. Alex still focusing on the man saw his thoughts of believing he had just dropped it before he turned around and left. Alex sighed and relief before tightening the fist that held the bill and making way to the sandwich cart.
As with every time he has done this, he feels guilt with every bite he takes, hunger drowns most of it, but still he felt it. He silently eats his sandwich in one of the park benches and looks at the money he still had, with the few cents he had before robbing the formal man, he now had almost nine pounds, enough to survive another couple days before needing to retort to this again. He was thankful that Deborah made everything in her power to teach him as much as she could.
At a very young age it was clear to him he was different, and to Deborah as well, Mrs. Martha and the other people on the orphanage didn't pay nearly as much attention to him to notice it. – "You are a genius!" Deborah had exclaimed to him in more than one occasion. Once he started state school he believed her, he entered it knowing material they didn't cover until his second year there. Then the other apparent side of his genius manifested, besides the fact that he had photographic memory and understood math to a level that was hard to believe for a five-year-old, there was the fact that he constantly knew what everyone in his vicinity was thinking. He always knew Mrs. Martha didn't appreciate him as much, tolerated him at best, and Deborah loved him, more than any other person he had ever known. That's what made the decision to leave all the worst.
At five he had his first vision, he saw himself, older, an adult knocking on the door of an apartment door, apartment 31-B of a rustic looking building in downtown London. He heard himself mutter. – "I found you, mother." Waiting for the door to open before the vision was cut short. He had been in a trance for what felt like a minute, and Deborah had been worriedly asking him if he was okay, he had apparently spaced out for the entire time, his eyes unfocused and muttering whatever was spoken in the vision. He first thought it was a fluke, maybe a second of craziness, or whatever. But then it happened again. He saw Mrs. Martha getting hurt while she was cutting some vegetables, preparing supper and a couple of days later it happened, he saw Milton, an older boy on the orphanage bringing a test he had been studying for nonstop with top marks and a day later it happened, it was the exact same grade.
He snapped out of his thoughts and finished his sandwich silently, London was a big place, enormous, and looking for a building knowing only its appearance was a challenge that proved way more difficult than he initially thought, but he wasn't going to give up. He got up from his seat and continued his walk that had been going on for two years of apparent futile search.