December 21st, 1990 – Hogwarts, Scotland.

Albus Dumbledore was pacing through the empty halls of the castle, making way to a room he knew well. Since they were currently on Christmas break, the amount of people on the castle was minimal, most students had left to their respective houses and some of the professors had left as well. He walked through the dimly lit corridor, noticing a puddle in front of one of the ladies' restrooms, up ahead, Peeve's the castle's poltergeist was floating about. – "Have you been swimming on the toilets again, Peeves? Dumbledore asked, smiling warmly.

The transparent, yet colorful and full of mischief figure laughed. – "I don't what you're rambling about." It answered. Floating away and laughing.

Dumbledore laughed to himself and shook his head, before waving his hand, cleaning the water from the floor, and continuing his walk. He arrived at his destination, a simple wall, looking just as old and rustic as the rest of the walls on the castle. He placed his hand on it, on a very specific spot, before placing his other hand on another. – "Revelio." He whispered.

A door manifested itself on the wall immediately. He opened it and entered the small room, that had an enchanted celling, like the great hall. The room was dimly lit by the stars on the celling and a couple of chandeliers opposing in two walls. He glanced ahead at the podium where a leather-bound book rested, a quill was hovering over it, at ease. It appeared he had arrived at the right time, in front of him rested the book of admittance, a magical registry of all wizards born in the United Kingdom. The book was enchanted to write the names of every wizard born and erase it as soon as they turned thirteen, or started attending Hogwarts, whichever happened first. It was an impressive peace of magic, old as the castle itself.

He looked at the quill once more, seeing there was no apparent rush for it to start writing he waved his hand and opened the book, as per norm the names of the people that should start their first year at Hogwarts manifested, each written in black ink, he scanned through the roughly hundred names on the page, searching for one name in particular. There it was – Harry Potter – July 31st, 1980. He sighed in relief, this meant at least that the boy was physically capable of coming. The magic of the book was powerful, even himself would find it extremely difficult, if not impossible to replicate it. The book knew when the futures students were born, whether or not they were full capable wizards and not squibs or muggles and it also knew when to erase a name, if one of them were to die before turning their time at Hogwarts were to begin. There was a second function of this book, but this one was Ministry mandated and had been around for less time, the placement of the trace on young wizards that start coming to Hogwarts, so they won't do magic recklessly where they should not.

The trace, in Dumbledore's humble opinion, was another brilliant display of magic, though there are some wizards capable of feeling magic, a spell that covers an area this vast by channeling the magic present on the book was impressive. It was made to alert the ministry if any magic was used around a minor, though it had its flaws, since like wizard feeling magic, it's rather complicated to pinpoint its exact source. So, in instances where a child lived with magical parents, the trace was pretty much futile. On the other hand, it was extremely useful with muggleborn wizards and witches.

Dumbledore had always been proud of his memory, so most surnames in these pages he could recognize, there were some he could not, Granger, Flinch and Whitmore. The last one piqued his curiosity, this one he did not remember. He was cut short from his thoughts when the quill started moving and the book shut closed violently, preventing the quill to write anything down. He sighed in amusement before turning around leaving the room, the wall returning to normal as soon as he exited through the door. He was making his way back to his office when an orb surrounded by white mist interrupted him. A Patronus Charm, a soft voice echoed through it, a voice he recognizes, his eyes squinted at it before the message ended and the orb dispelled. Dumbledore arrived at his office where he disaparated, leaving a deafening silence behind.

April 25th, 1991 – London, England.

Alexander was resting in an abandoned alley; he had walked the whole day and now it was roughly five in the evening. There was still plenty of daylight left but he was utterly drained of any energy, he hadn't eaten since yesterday and only had three pounds on his pocket, he wasn't going to spend it unless the situation was absolutely dire. And right now, it wasn't. right here seemed like a bad place to sleep, but he had passed by this alley more times than he cared to count, and it was always empty, he closed his eyes, the sitting position would make it easier to run if he needed to, but his neck was very likely to be sore after a while.

He opened his eyes, tilting his head until his neck cracked, by the position of the sun, it had probably been an hour, a one-hour nap wasn't that bad, though he was sore everywhere. He got off the floor and stretched himself as much as he could. Then he noticed someone sitting at the entrance of the alley, a woman, old wearing a pointy hat and a pair of oval shaped glasses, she was dressed in a green robe, that had a metallic appearance but looked incredibly soft as well. She was looking towards the street so her back was to him, he concentrated on her, and was surprised when he was unable to see anything. He couldn't see what she was thinking. – "You're wondering why you can't read my mind." The woman stated, her voice sounded like her, old, but warm it wasn't a question, it was a statement.

Alexander took a step back, normally people can't sense him in their minds, unless he purposely wanted to be noticed or was too harsh in pushing through the thoughts. – "I'm not here to hurt you, young man." The woman spoke again, getting up from her chair and turning around to face him. – "There's no need to be scared." She stated sweetly.

Alexander gulped, looking around, finding the most adequate way to scape if he needed to, and if not, he could only hope he could make things burst into flames again like the last time he was in peril. – "Who are you?" Alexander asked uneasily.

The woman smiled and stepped closer, suddenly looking for something in her robes. – "My name is Minerva McGonagall." She stated politely. – "I am here to give you this." She finished fetching an envelope from her robes and extending her hand towards Alexander.

Alexander reached carefully, not getting closer than needed be, he took the envelope and examined it. – Alexander Whitmore. The northern Alley on Downtown London, on the east corner. It read behind, apparently whoever wrote this knew exactly where he was at that moment, but he could just attribute it to her writing it while he slept, he turned the envelope around. – Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was written above wax seal he assumed had the crest of the school. – "What is this?" He asked the woman plainly, raising his glance off the envelope.

McGonagall's composure had not wavered. – "You might want to read it." She answered. Alexander maintained eye contact while he opened the letter, normally it required much less effort to know what someone was thinking if he looked at them in the eyes. – "It is rather rude to pry on people's thoughts Mr. Whitmore." McGonagall stated. – "Though, I must commend you on your strength, it's hard to believe someone that doesn't have any training can push this hard."

Alexander looked down, there were two pieces of paper, though this paper felt different than anything he had previously used, thinker and softer at the same time. It was parchment the first paper was like a traditional letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Whitmore,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Alexander glanced at the paper, apparently the Deputy Headmistress of this school was standing right in front of him. He eyed the parchment carefully. – "I don't know if you noticed Mrs. McGonagall, but I'm in no condition of going anywhere. I live in the streets I have no money."

McGonagall nodded her head. – "I am aware of your situation." She smiled at the young boy. – "But first I think you need demonstration that this is not some kind of joke." She stated seriously before reaching through her robes again, Alexander watched silently as she took out a black stick and pointed it at the jacket he had left on the floor, the item started floating immediately. – "You're a wizard, Mr. Whitmore, what you do, reading minds and any other event you can't possibly explain, it's magic."

- "How did you…? Alexander stated in awe.

McGonagall lowered the jacket over his shoulders. – "The same way you've been trying to read my mind since you saw me Mr. Whitmore." Alexander looked down at the letter again. – "Now, like I said, we are aware of your situation Mr. Whitmore, the Headmaster himself has overlooked your case and the school shall be responsible for all the materials you will need as well as clothing, that would include the robes and uniform and the winter gear, as well as some pieces of clothing for your casual use."

Alexander frowned. – "Like a scholarship?"

McGonagall smiled. – "Yes, something of the sort." She nodded her head. – "That'll mean, you have to study, Mr. Whitmore." She looked back. – "Now, have you come to a decision? Or do you feel like you need more time? I have more pressing matters to attend, I am a professor too after all."

Alexander sighed. He had nothing to lose, it had come to a point where he didn't really care about being alive that much. He had left the one person that had showed him care and love in search of someone that did not want him in her life. Maybe this school was where he needed to be, there was no way he could look at Deborah again, not after what he did, and going to seemingly whole new world should put enough distance if she was still trying to find him. – "I'll go." He stated finally. – "I'll go." He repeated, looking up and meeting McGonagall's eyes.

Minerva smiled. – "Splendid." She looked through her robes again, pulling out a small cloth bag. – "You can come with me." She stated gesturing for him to come closer. – "It has been arranged for you to stay, temporarily with social services here, do not worry I'll come for you at the end of August so we can go buy everything you will need." She turned to Alexander who had a worried face.

- "I don't want to go to social services." Alexander stated firmly. – "I will not."

Minerva pressed her lips. – "Mr. Whitmore, would you rather I leave you here alone to fend for yourself? Be logical about this. The people whom with I will leave you know that I will return for you like I said, no one there should bother you."

- "You don't understand." Alexander stated. – "She must be looking for me."

Minerva looked at him apprehensively. – "Who?" Alexander remained silent. – "Does somebody want to hurt you?" she asked gently.

Alexander shook his head. – "Not exactly, I hurt her, I… left." Minerva softened her expression, relieved that at least it wasn't that someone had it out for him. – "I made her let me leave." He sighed, he felt the pang of guilt in his chest he felt every time he thought about Deborah, but he refused to let himself cry, let alone in front of someone he barely knew. He might me only ten years old, but he wasn't about to show signs of weakness.

- "I see." McGonagall stated, but noticing his discomfort chose to not press the matter further. – "But I need you to understand something. I know you don't know me and wouldn't have any reason to listen to an old woman like me." She handed him the cloth bag. – "Given your decision to come to Hogwarts, and this turmoil you seem to have I want you to understand that Hogwarts and the magical world you will enter should not be used only as an escape road." She watched as Alexander examined the cloth bag. – "There are some clothes, and food in there. To fetch what you need just think about it while reaching in and you should get it. There's also some calligraphy books and a couple of books from our world."

Alexander frowned, this bag was no bigger than a soccer ball and weighted less than a pound for what he could feel but given the fact that the woman had made his jacket float seemingly out of nowhere, he kind of believed her. – "There's another thing we need to discuss before I leave you with the social services." McGonagall continued seriously. – "Magic needs to be kept secret. That means you must not do magic in the vicinity of muggles."

Alexander tilted his head in confusion. – "Muggles?"

McGonagall nodded her head. – "Non-magical people." She answered. – "That also means, refraining yourself to reading people's minds, besides the fact that it is unethical."

- "I know that." Alexander cut in. – "I don't normally do it, at first it was unintentional, but now I do it only out of extreme need, or concern for my safety." He looked to the bag again. – "I wouldn't want anyone probing through my mind like I've had to do."

- "Good." McGonagall continued. – "Back to the matter at hand, the bag is enchanted to repel any muggles' eyes so normal people should not be able to notice it, the repulsion gets stronger whenever you reach for something inside and who ever notices what you take out would believe you had it all along."

Alexander nodded in understanding; the secrecy was vital apparently. – "You will need to hand the bag once I come for you in august, but you can keep everything that was inside. I will bring a trunk for you for our journey. The use of these is regulated by the ministry."

Alexander nodded in understanding. – "I understand Mrs. McGonagall." He looked back at the alley and then at the woman again. – "I'm ready to leave. I understand everything, not doing magic and not speaking about it with anyone."

McGonagall smiled. – "Splendid." Suddenly an owl came from the sky and placed itself on one of the trash bins in the alley. – "This is Rowan, he is my owl." She gestured to the magnificent creature; he was brown with big golden eyes. – "I will write to you once a week to see how you're doing; he will find you anywhere you go. If you wish to ask me anything or write to me during this time, you only must ask him to stay, and he will wait for you to finish the letter and deliver it to me promptly."

Alexander nodded his head, before carefully opening his bag and placing the envelope inside, he watched in awe as it disappeared completely. – "Now, let's get you where you will be staying." McGonagall stated, stepping aside, and inviting Alexander to walk beside her, Rowan hooted and nodded his head at alexander before taking flight, Alexander watched the bird soar through the buildings in the alley and disappear from view as well.

Alexander sighed before stepping closer to McGonagall, she smiled at him started walking, after a very peaceful walk through the crowded streets of London they arrived to where he would be staying, it was nice enough building, of stone and glass, four floors and he could hear several children inside, he gripped the bag on his right hand and took a deep breath. McGonagall walked with him to the reception and after a short talk with the pretty lady at the desk she returned to him. – "This is where you will be staying, I've made myself responsible for you during this time, I don't want to hear you caused any sort of trouble." She stated in a firm voice.

- "Yes, Mrs. McGonagall." Alexander stated. – "Thank you, for the opportunity."

McGonagall nodded her head and smiled. – "You are most welcome; remember I will come for you when august nears its end. After that, you will return here until September first, when I will come to drop you off at the train station."

Alexander nodded his head. – "Understood."

McGonagall nodded as well before turning towards the door. – "Farewell." She stated before leaving.

Alexander stared at the door after McGonagall had left, when he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder he recoiled immediately and turned around to see the concerned face of the woman at the desk. – "Sorry I didn't mean to startle you." The woman stated sweetly. – "My name is Sarah; you will be staying with us until September, correct?"

Alexander nodded his head. – "Yes." He answered.

Sarah eyed him carefully, he was very thin and very short, even for his age, the grey pants he was dressed in where a bit baggy on him and the white shirt he was wearing was stained. – "You must be hungry dear, you're just in time for dinner. You could go take a shower and change your clothes. I can get you some." She eyed his hair next; it was dirty, and his curly sandy blonde hair was now very long almost reaching his shoulders.

Alexander nodded his head. A shower sounded fantastic; he hasn't had one in a while. – "Thank you very much." Sarah nodded her head and guided him towards the bathroom.

When they reached the door, Sarah turned towards him. – "There's a fresh towel in there as well as soap, I'll go get your clothes." Alexander nodded in agreement before she left, he eyed the bathroom carefully it was clean, there were three sinks and two showers separated by a blue panel and each had a glass door that was misty so it would give privacy. He eyed the tiles on the shower's wall and the tiles on the floor, over all it was way nicer than the second orphanage he had been in.

Although he didn't stay more than a couple days, he remembered the grim ambience in it, and the awful thoughts of the nuns that worked there. – "Here are some fresh clothes." Sarah returned with blue sweatpants and a grey shirt, as well as a pair of socks. – "I imagine this would fit you well enough." She placed them beside one of the sinks. – "I'll let you shower." She smiled sweetly and left the room, closing the door behind her. He entered the shower stall and placed the cloth bag on the compartment.

As Alexander let the water wash all the grime and dirt from his skin, he was sure this was the best shower he had have on his live, even though the water was cold. He relished the feeling of being in a clean and safe environment, a luxury he hadn't experienced in a long time. Despite the cold temperature of the water, it felt refreshing, rejuvenating even. He washed his hair thoroughly with the soap provided to him and even washed under his nails. After fifteen minutes he came out of the shower, dressed on the clothes provided to him, he could still hear the voices of several children, though now it appeared they were concentrated in one place.

Alexander made his way towards the source of the noise, his right hand gripping the cloth bag, soon enough he was at the entrance of the dining hall, there was a long table with several children, he could count twenty-three. Sarah smiled at him once she spotted him, she was sitting at the table's head. – "Alexander, you're just in time. Come have a seat." Alexander did as instruct, sitting beside a boy that seemed to be around fifteen and a girl around the same age. Most children here, where older than him, he could only spot two that where roughly his age. A minute later, another woman came with a cart full of meals, giving a platter to each of the children.

Alexander ate as politely as his hungered stated would let him, not even ten minutes after he was served, he had finished his meal, the same woman came and collected his plate. Sarah approached Alexander after he finished. – "Come, I'll show you to your room." After a short walk, they arrived at his room, it was on the third floor of the building, it was small had a single small bed, a dresser and a small desk. – "There is another bathroom on the hall, right there." She pointed at a door on the far end. – "There are only boys in this side of the floor, but everyone has his own room. Feel free to explore the rest of the building on your own, but do not enter any girls' bathroom."

Alexander nodded his head. – "Understood." He replied plainly.

Sarah smiled at him. – "You must be tired you can go to sleep now if you wish. Breakfast is served seven, a bell chimes through the building to signify the start of the day, fifteen minutes before seven. Similarly, a bell chimes for lunch at one in the evening." Alexander nodded again. – "I'll let you rest dear." Sarah stated before exiting the room and closing the door behind her.

Alexander looked through his window, he had a small view of the street, he sighed before taking a seat on the bed, amazed by how soft it felt in contrast with the hard pavement he had been sleeping on. He took a deep breath and opened the cloth bag he had been gripping since he received it. Thinking of something to help him, he felt something that was probably a book. He took the book out of the cloth bag and glanced at it. – Magical Theory. Albert Waffling. He remembers seeing the title of this book on the list of textbooks for the school. Without that much tiredness given everything that had transcended in only the last two hours he started reading the book, by the time he was finally going to sleep he was already halfway through.

June 21st, 1991 – London, England.

He found himself within the haunting ruins of a place that bore the weight of ancient grandeur yet remained unfamiliar to his conscious mind. Amidst the shattered spires and crumbling walls of what appeared to be a colossal castle, he stood as a figure of devastating power and unmatched prowess. His matured form exuded an aura of formidable might, with eyes that glowed with an intensity that echoed the tumult raging within his very soul.

Around him lay the wreckage of a once majestic institution, its corridors now desolate and its chambers echoing with the haunting remnants of a world torn asunder. In the wake of his devastating power, countless fallen wizards lay scattered, their shattered wands testament to the unparalleled force that he had become. The scars of his destructive path etched into the very stones of the castle spoke of a reign of devastation that had left the magical world quaking in its wake.

In the heart of this desolation stood a solitary figure, a venerable wizard whose presence resonated with an aura of profound strength and unwavering determination. Clad in robes that bore the marks of a lifetime steeped in arcane wisdom, he stood as a beacon of resilience amidst the chaos that surrounded him. His piercing gaze spoke of a wisdom that had weathered the test of time, and his lined face bore the weight of a destiny intertwined with the very fabric of the magical realm.

Yet, as the inevitable confrontation unfolded, it became increasingly apparent that even this formidable wizard, with all his arcane prowess and unwavering resolve, stood as a lone sentinel against the cataclysmic force that Alexander had become. Their clash reverberated through the shattered halls, each burst of magic pitting one titan against the other.

As their duel culminated in a crescendo of raw power and primal force, Alexander's overwhelming might surged forth, rending through the very essence of magic itself with a ferocity that defied all known limitations. Even the wizard's most potent incantations and deft maneuvers proved futile against the overwhelming tempest of Alexander's boundless power, leaving the seasoned wizard grasping at straws in a battle that had long been decided before its inception.

With a sudden gasp, Alexander was thrust back into the present, his heart pounding with an intensity that mirrored the relentless conflict within his visions. What he had seen was horrible, but it was also the first time he had a vision while he was asleep. – so, this is probably just a nightmare. He though to himself. He looked around his room, he had been here for almost two months now, it showed, he had gained a bit of weight but was still nowhere near being fat, Mss. Sarah had cut his hair last month, it was styled now in a curly undercut, he preferred it, though it would sometimes get in his eyes, which caused him to constantly run a hand through his hair to push it back. His eyes were still as cold as the day he arrived here, even though he would engage in casual conversation with his peers he was still reserved.

He was eleven now, that much he knew. The birth certificate that was left with Deborah made May 26th his birthday. She always said that it was the day her life changed, and it at the very least meant the start of something new for her. She always said that they could look like family if one looked at the resemblance in their eyes, though Alexander's were a shade of blue that appeared almost grey under certain lightning, while hers tended to look blue under any type of lightning. She always said that his eyes were her favorite thing about him if she had to pick.

He sighed, there were times when he cursed his photographic memory, now remembering every single detail about Deborah's appearance, her ginger hair, the blue eyes, and the smile, perfect in every way, that was warm and full of love. And now there was this vision, or nightmare or whatever this is. He's had nightmares before, he has seen himself being hated and disowned by Deborah, being caught stealing on the streets or something otherwise stupid like being chased by a dog. But this one… this one held a level of reality that sends chills down his spine.

He kicked the sheets off his body and sat up in the bed, turning around to set his feet on the cold ground, he glanced at the clock on his desk, it was now five in the morning, way too early, absolutely no one was up at this time. He knew he wasn't perfect, but he always believed himself to be at least decent, yes, he has stolen, but he always steals what he needs, not a pound more, even though he learned way back then that he is completely able to shut someone's train of thought off and bend their mind, so they do his bidding. He never does it, not since that one time, he doesn't even try. He sighed in exasperation, he wasn't going to get any more sleep, he placed his feet on his worn shoes and stood up from the bed, grabbing his cloth bag from the desk and a hoodie to put over the black tank top he was wearing, the grey sweatpants he had on for sleeping were warm enough for the chilly morning air, though after years of sleeping on the streets, this was nowhere near what he deemed cold, the hoodie was mostly for modesty.

He made his way downstairs, exerting his ability to pace as silently as a cat, once he reached the front door, he remembered it was probably locked and took a calm breath. He tried to open it; it was indeed locked. He knew it was forbidden to leave during the night like he wanted to, but he really needed to clear his head. He reached inside the cloth bag and took out a paper clip he has being carrying since he left home. He carefully and silently picked the lock until it opened before exiting the building as quietly as possible.

Walking through the streets of London he knew like the palm of his hand he reflected on the nightmare again, he could recognize himself, rather than being in his body during the nightmare it was like he was watching a movie. He appeared older probably not older than thirty, dressed in black robes and held a stare way colder than what he saw when he looked at himself in the mirror, like something had broken him completely. He was certain of one thing, there is no way he wants to become some harbinger of chaos, he doesn't like destruction, he doesn't like hurting people. He sighed once again, before trying to clear his mind.