November 1, 1981

His name is Harry

That's all that was written in the note left with the abandoned boy. As if that mattered to Sister Linda. The nun was educated only in Estonian, and to some extent, Latin. She gently picked up the boy and looked around to see if she could spot whoever had left him there. Her efforts in vain, she took him in and closed the orphanage doors behind her.

The day was bright and cheery, not a day befitting the horrors that had occurred the night before and the injustices that it promised for the future. It was a day of hope and growth, clear skies and a beautiful day. Certainly, it was a day of good.

In the alleys untouched by the bright morning sun, a plump man smiled a sinister smile. For the foreseeable future, the rat would be safe. Peter now had knowledge he could trade for freedom. He had power over the family that was promoted, overnight, to be the most powerful in Magical Britain.

Peter wrote out a letter for his old colleague, Karkaroff. He'd be needing his services in the future to make sure his leverage was not lost. Peter knew the threat of exposing a former death eater's crimes was very powerful in the subtle art of persuasion. With a crack, the man disapparated.

June 24, 1990

Silas leapt over the fallen crates. The Estonian market air reeked of fish, sweat, and smoke. Summer was a valuable commodity to the people of Valga, it was best enjoyed while it came by. People were preparing for the Jannipäev festival that midsummer brought. Unfortunately, the orphans of the Saint Martin de Porres orphanage did not celebrate the festival in quite the same way. The lack of governmental support for the orphanage meant that it was reliant wholly on the goodwill of the inhabitants of their small little town. That was to say, it was reliant on pretty much nothing.

Silas ran with his stolen loaf of bread, pushing and shoving past crowds, throwing whatever he could get his hands on at his pursuers to get them off his tail. The baker's son was relentless.

"Stop, you bastard!" the boy yelled in Estonian.

Silas turned sharply to his right. His pursuer was older, healthier, and stronger. It wasn't helpful that all Silas had eaten was the watery soup the orphans got. However, Silas knew that he wouldn't just lose the loaf if he was caught. He'd probably go back home with more than a fair amount of broken bones and cuts.

Hoping to lose him in the alleys he was so familiar with, Silas turned to his left once again. He turned to find that his usual path was blocked off by a crowd. He turned sharply into an unknown corridor. Silas tripped twice over the uneven ground but made it through, the baker's boy in pursuit had less luck following, but he was still gaining through the small opening rapidly.

The end of the corridor revealed yet another alley. Dead end. Silas panicked and realized there was pretty much nowhere for him to hide. Heart pounding he lunged for the corner just as the boy behind him pushed into the alley. It was all Silas could do to scrunch up and hope he wouldn't get hurt too badly. He held the loaf to his chest and shut his eyes.

"Where the hell did he go," growled the boy, huffing from the exertion.

Silas's heart was pounding, but he dared not look back. He was barely able to hold his breath.

"Piece of…" the boy muttered off as he turned back the way he'd come.

When Silas was sure he was no longer there he turned around just slightly to see what had happened. He thought it was an unbelievable stroke of luck. It'd seemed as if divine intervention had saved him, nothing else could explain what had just happened. He looked down at his hands and did a double-take. He couldn't see them. He couldn't see any of himself. His head reared back in disbelief and struck the wall behind him. Suddenly, all was black.

William yelled out in joy as he flew around in the Nimbus 1800 his godfather Sirius had gotten him as an early birthday present. He'd begged and pleaded with his parents for this for months after it'd been launched. They still only told him that he was still too young to get an adult's broom.

Sirius is simply the best, William had decided. He could hear his godfather cheering below as he weaved in and out of the poles in front of the quidditch pitch. His mother and father didn't know, of course. If they found out he'd be in very big trouble.

William went in for a dive, straight towards his godfather. Sirius cheered as William pulled up just before he was able to smack his hand to his godfather's for a quick high five.

"Wooooooh!" he screamed as he tried to perform some of the tricks he'd seen from his father's quidditch memories from the Pensieve. His wild cheers of joy died as he saw a very recognizable head of red hair making its way towards his unsuspecting godfather. William waved and attempted to point towards the approaching threat. Sirius took this for another cheer and raised his hands and jumped in response.

William could only watch as his mother hexed his godfather senseless from behind. When he came down, Sirius was still suffering from the trailing end of a tickling curse.

"Lily please! AHAHAHAHHAHA! LILY STOP! AHHHHHH AHA! Okay! Okay LILY! LILY OKAY!"

"You do not!" Lily gritted out, "go behind my back, and let William do something as stupid as this, ever again!"

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, yes, please, make it stop! Ahaha!"

With the flick of her wand, Lily granted Sirius mercy. Just as swiftly, she turned on William. William dropped his broom and ran as fast as he could away from his mother.

"Rictumsempra!" his mother called from behind.

The hex hit William straight in the back and he instantly fell over, laughing uncontrollably.

"Mum! HA! MUM I'M SORRY!"

"William, I'm going to lock you up so tight in your room you'll wish you'd never asked for a broom!"

"Mum no! Haha! Mum nooo!"

oOoOoOo

It was half a day later and a lot of pleading on his and Sirius' part when Lily allowed William to go off on the playdate he'd planned out with Neville Longbottom.

"Longbottom Manor!" William yelled as he threw floo powder into the fireplace and stepped into his friend's home.

"William!"

"Neville!"

The two friends collapsed into a hug as Lily stepped out of the floo.

"Alice, so nice to see you."

"And you as well, Lily," Alice Longbottom, hugged her school friend as well.

"Run along, boys, go have fun," Lily said, William immediately took off, pulling Neville behind him.

"C'mon Nev, I brought the junior broom, let's go play some quidditch!"

"If you're sure, William," Neville replied. He wasn't too good with handling brooms, the fact that junior brooms were designed to be simple and safe for children to use was the only thing encouraging him to play.

William closed his eyes as he took off into the air, he was glad to have the freedom of the skies.

Lily watched her son fly through the air. For some reason, she felt a pang of sadness. She felt as if something was missing. Shaking off the ominous feeling she walked back inside the manor. Everything was as it should be.

Silas awoke with a start. He scrambled to get off the ground in fear. It was brighter out than before, probably sometime around noon, he thought. He grabbed his loaf of bread and carefully made his way back to the orphanage, wary of an ambush.

Once he was back within the safety of his little alcove in the alley beside his orphanage, Silas could breathe a sigh of release. He pulled out the small shard of a broken mirror from the sack beside him and looked at himself. Thankfully, he was once again visible. He looked into the deep green eyes that stared back at him. Shrugging off the weird events of the morning, he grabbed the loaf of bread he'd worked so hard to steal and made his way to the steps of the orphanage.

oOoOoOo

The children of the Saint Martin de Porres orphanage had enjoyed their first proper meal in a long time. It hadn't been an easy day, though. Shortly after Silas had returned with the bread and had shared it with his brothers-by-situation.

Their shared dormitories bedded all the children of the orphanage. It was a damp, wooden hall full of dirty beds and termite-infested walls. There were three attached rooms, two of them housed the nuns, and the third was the kitchen, almost always protected by the head nun to prevent the orphans from stealing food they weren't supposed to.

He was one of the older boys in the orphanage now, he'd never been adopted for some odd reason. They'd look at him, choose him, but the Mother Superior would never let them take him. He didn't blame those who were chosen, though. He'd understood long ago that maybe he was not fated to be chosen. No matter how many times he tried to straighten his unruly black hair, or scrub his face until he'd began peeling it right off, no one chose him.

Silas didn't care, though, he decided he'd at least try to help those who remained so maybe one day they could be taken to some home and meet a family he'd never have. Unfortunately, Mother Ehaema, or as Silas put it, the evil witch of the orphanage, realized he'd brought in food, most likely stolen. She attacked him as she usually had, with her rolling pin. Silas, as usual, did not react much. He was prepared for the pain and tried to push down the tears threatening to spill out. When the nun saw a younger boy eating his share of the stolen bread in the corner she had turned on him instead to incite a reaction. As she raised her pin to hit him, Silas saw red and couldn't hold himself back any further.

"Get your filthy hands off of him you obese witch!" Silas screamed as he pounced on her.

Silas hadn't considered her size into how he'd expected things to play out after that. She barely moved as he made contact. His eyes widened as she grabbed him and threw him to the ground. She menacingly moved to lift her pin and beat him senseless when suddenly she was thrown back. It was as if a strong gust of wind had struck her down.

The children of the orphanage only stared, terrified of what would happen next. Silas slowly lifted himself off the ground and made his way over to the giant woman. He checked to see if she was still breathing and took a sigh of relief as he realized that she hadn't died.

"Silas? What was that?" asked Rasmus, a younger child of the orphanage.

"Don't worry, Ras, nothing's happened, we're fine, everyone's okay."

"Silas I'm scared, what if she punishes us?"

"We're fine, Ras, are you still hungry, little imik?"

"Yes."

"Okay let's go get some food, okay?"

Silas quietly snuck into the kitchens. The nuns were out. The Mother Superior usually was in charge of rationing the food. Silas knew, with certainty, that the old hag always took the lion's share of the food for herself and the other nuns, leaving scraps and barely edible mush for the rest of them. He distributed the food in the food stores in large quantities. To hell with rationing, the midsummer festival was here and they couldn't even celebrate it? To hell with it all.

oOoOoOo

It had all gone well until the orphanage caretaker had returned unexpectedly from the celebrations to find Mother Ehaema gagged and bound in the orphans' dormitories and the orphans feasting on the food from the storage. He had quickly rescued the Mother Superior and forced the children back into their shared dormitories.

The caretaker grabbed Silas and beat him. He threw him against the wall and kicked him hard.

"Your stay is over here, you bloody ungrateful wretch!" he yelled as he grabbed Silas by his shirt and pulled him out of the orphanage. He threw Silas to the ground and kicked him once more for good measure. Without looking back the caretaker walked back up the stairs of the orphanage and slammed the doors shut.

Silas looked back at the orphanage which had housed him for as long as he could remember and hobbled away into the alleys where he'd grown up, and now perhaps would live his entire life. He would get by somehow. He would survive. He always had.

September 29, 1990

Silas swiped the apple right off the stand. The owner of a stand was busy haggling with a woman trying to buy his fruits. Silas felt bad, but he knew he'd feel worse if he was starving and dying off in some corner without food. Better to rob and survive than to die without food. Silas had learned, the brutal way, that morals don't keep you fed. On the streets, you do what you need to do to survive.

Silas ducked into an alleyway as he headed towards his hideout where he now kept his sack of stolen goods and his most precious things. He had survived for the past week off of stolen food and the pity of the local shopkeepers. He wasn't that naïve, though, he knew when winter came, he'd be in big trouble. He'd started asking some shopkeepers if they'd be willing to take on hired help in return for board and lodging. No one was willing to take on an unskilled and filth ten years old boy, thus far.

As Silas lied down on his makeshift bed in the corner of his alley, he dropped his apple into the sack, he also pulled out the letter he'd found from the bird. Silas could read and write Estonian. He'd gone into the local library many times as a child to learn to read. Sister Linda, the nun who'd left the orphanage around three years ago, had encouraged his desire to learn. She'd taught him secretly, away from the disapproving matron of the orphanage. However, Silas couldn't read what this letter said. It was in a language foreign to him. When he'd tried to show the letter to some of the shopkeepers in the area they'd shooed him away or had laughed at him when they read it.

He looked at the seal again. On it was a double-headed eagle. Silas had thought this was similar to the sigil of the medieval kings and families he'd read about as a child. He did not know, however, why any such family would want to contact him. Weirder yet, this wasn't any letter that was given to him. He'd found it in the clutches of an owl, sitting beside his sack. He'd first been terrified that he was discovered and his stuff had been stolen. However, after he had reassured himself that this was not so he turned his attention to the owl. It had only sat there patiently, and when he'd reached for the letter at its feet, it had let him. As soon as the owl saw that he had the letter in his hands, it had flown away, never to come back.

Silas dropped the letter back in his sack and he lay back down. Sleep does not come easily when one's bed is mostly slabs of stone with leaves and grass thrown on top. Silas, however, could sleep anywhere. He'd been kind of proud of that, especially since once he'd fallen asleep on the roof of their orphanage. He liked to think of it as a talent. With a soft content sigh, Silas saw only his dreams.

oOoOoOo

Silas awoke with a start, he'd heard a guttural noise, like a bark, beside him. He scrambled away from where he'd heard the sound and found himself backed up against the wall of the alley. In front of him stood a large man.

This man had closely cut hair and was very pale. He wore a large black jacket and had an extremely long, ragged and greyed beard. He towered above Silas, but he'd seen taller. His eyes, though, his eyes scared Silas, they seemed hollow and uncaring.

The man barked out something in a language Silas didn't understand. When he shook his head the man only seemed to get angrier. He pulled out a stick from the pocket of his jacket.

"Vernaculen"

A white shard of light shot out of the man's stick and hit Silas in the chest. He looked down at where he was hit but saw nothing.

"You understand now, yes?"

"Yes, sir," Silas mumbled out in his confusion.

"Good, understand this, boy. Did you … the …?"

"What, sir?

"Did you look at letter sent to you?"

"No sir I don't know how to read it."

"Useless, Karkaroff you really … you … ... "

"Sir?"

"You're coming with me, boy. Are those your things?" the man gestured towards his sack. Silas only nodded in response.

"Give me your hand, boy, pick up your things"

Silas complied absolutely in his shock. He took a hold of his sack and gathered up his meagre collections of scraps and 'treasures'. The man looked at his arm expectantly. Silas offered his hand up to the giant. The man only scrunched up his nose, as if picking up a piece of garbage, and put his hand over Silas's.

Silas felt a tugging sensation at his naval and was pulled into a world of darkness. He felt as if he was being squashed against himself from all sides. He felt constrained and he opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out.

Suddenly he was back in the real world and collapsed against the ground. It was freezing cold. He was no longer back in his small little alley. He was in a dark hut. The man opened the door and moonlight shone in. The man gestured for Silas to step outside. All around them were plains of snow, hills shrouded in white, and mountains into the distance. A dark fortress sat atop a hill beside a lake. The fortress was grim and uninviting. Torches lit a path towards the fortress.

Silas took in everything incredulously, how in the world had they gotten here? It was literally impossible in every way possible, perhaps he'd been drugged, he'd seen the semi-conscious drug abusers littered on the streets of Valga, maybe he was experiencing the same thing? He furiously tried to remember what'd happened when he put his hands in the man's. He looked up cautiously to see the man was staring at him with an odd look upon his face.

"This is …, you come school here now," the man grunted. He said something else and suddenly the cold subsided, Silas felt warm again.

"You understand?"

"No, sir?"

"... boy. Do not think too hard, this will be explained. I remove …, you no ... understand me when inside the … you understand again."

Silas set out to the fortress as the man pulled him forward. He had no clue what was happening, nothing he had ever known or been taught could explain this. So he went with what he was told to do. When they finally reached the entrance of the fortress, the giant iron gates guarding it opened and allowed admission to the odd duo. They stepped inside.

The man turned and looked at Silas once again, "The language wards will work now. Now you can understand, yes?"

He stood in shock as the man spoke in fluent Estonian. All he could do was nod.

The man blinked in response, "This, child, is Durmstrang, and you are a wizard."

A/N: Mistakes will happen in my writing, which is inevitable. If you'd like to help proofread by checking over chapters before I release them by being a beta reader, please message me!

I also went back and made some changes in the previous chapter to fix some errors and add some stuff. Also, this is introductory stuff, which is why it is short, we're getting to the fun stuff soon! Finally, thanks for the positive reviews, those made my day!

(Italicized dialogue is in a language other than English)