25 Year Two - Prologue

Orphanages were not place of happiness and mirth, but they weren't either places of despair and cruelty. At least, not the quaint orphanage I ended up in. A clean bed, a small room, and bars to keep me in rather than let me jump to my death out of the window. Also, no magic whatsoever, but that was the least of my problems. The orphanage had a small library filled with children's book, and some neutral-looking caretakers as well as a few who actually liked their job.

There also were some would-be parents that came very now and then, but only for the small ones. The big ones weren't not-liked, but perhaps it was easier for the parents if the child didn't doubt whom his parents were?

Still, with my wand practically confined in my trunk, and the key hidden on my person, I had all the time in the world to try to understand how to get some basic wandless magic down. If Tom Riddle could make people hurt by thinking about it, then I, being naturally the most charismatic and smart, should have been able to do thrice his level of wandless magic and without breaking a sweat.

I couldn't practice near the orphanage though, or it would bring the ministry down on me. Hence, I could only practice by moving really small pebbles, and only during our regular afternoon trips to the park.

Thus, I took to sitting under a tree, a book in hand, and meanwhile I'd flex my left hand's fingers trying to convince the pebble on my lap to float up.

Sometimes, I'd even whisper the word 'Accio', but to no avail. My majestic powers of wizardry might failed against the simple task of levitating a pebble. Perhaps I didn't want it enough, or maybe I didn't tap into the full potential of the arcane weave -or whatever, really.

The weeks went by relatively quickly, though most of the time was spent trying to be as quiet and non-existent as possible.

A week before the start of the school term, I managed to get the pebble to float into my palm whenever I actually popped a vein in my forehead and hissed the word Accio out as if seeking to snap someone's neck. It was progress, and it proved that the ministry of magic tracked the wand and the general proximity of someone's residence, but not someone's magic.

That was also the day that professor Flitwick came to bring me in Diagon Alley for my school supplies. The half-goblin professor grinned at my sight, and I grinned back. "Mister Umbrus," he said with a smile, "Hope you've spent a good summer."

"Can't complain, professor," I answered. The people of the orphanage believed I'd go for the school supplies, and it didn't take much to convince them. "The only thing I'm sad about is that I couldn't practice my charms without a wand. I tried, but the most I managed was make a pebble float."

Professor Flitwick nodded eagerly, "Well, I am glad to see your thirst for knowledge unimpaired, young raven. Let's go, grab hold of this key here and we'll use it as a portkey to reach our destination."

He brought up a rusted, but elongated key and lifted it up in front of my face. I took hold of a side of it, and as the man tapped with his wand on the key's side, a giant hook dragged my intestines along for a ride I hadn't signed up for.

I landed, butt-first, on a patch of ground in the backyard of a pub, near a brick wall. My vision was swimming and my eyes were trying to recover their focus. I turned around, closing my eyes and holding my breakfast in. A couple of deep breaths later, and I was back on my feet. "The first time is always discomforting," professor Flitwick said with a kind voice.

"Thanks for the warning, professor," I replied with a sigh, cracking my neck as in the meantime the professor tapped the brick that would open us a way into the magical land of Diagon Alley.

For an alley, it was filled with people and quite spacious. Shops of all kinds rested on the sides, but we moved quickly through our list, professor Flitwick apparently pressed for time. "Professor," I said halfway through the trip, "Could we make a detour to Ollivander's? A really brief one, I just want to know if I'm handling my wand correctly. Since...it was passed down to me, I don't know if I'm suitable for it or not."

Professor Flitwick agreed. It really was that easy to get professors to comply as long as you were polite about it. For an orphan, things weren't that bad. I got everything, and not necessarily second-handed. Sure, my robes wouldn't be made out of silk, and I definitely had bought some second-hand books, but I didn't look like the kind of student that everyone would point a finger at and yell 'Orphan!'.

Things had changed from Tom Riddle's times, I reckoned.

Ollivander saw me enter and furrowed his brows, though seeing professor Flitwick made the feeling pass. "Ah, Professor Flitwick. Red Oak and Dragon Hearstring," he then looked at me, and at the wand I was quietly holding in my hands, "A student from Hogwarts? He already has a wand, does he not?"

"I don't know if you remember me, sir," I said, "But I wrote to you some weeks ago, about not knowing what my wand was..."

"Ah, yes, I do remember the very bizarre question asked," Ollivander hummed, and extended a hand. I passed him the wand, and the moment I did tiny sparks of fire left the center of the wand, probably a silent spell from the man's own hand. "Thirteen inches of Spruce, with a Dragon Heartstring as a core," his eyes looked into mine, "Quite the dangerous wand to hold, for it is both temperamental and prone to accidents."

"So that would explain why it was making a ruckus about non-verbal magic," I grumbled back, looking at the wand which Ollivander handed me back, "You're a flamboyant kind of wand, aren't you? Fire, flames, that sort of thing," I smiled, "Thank you for telling me that, sir."

"Still," Mister Ollivander continued, "Would you rather not look for your own wand?" he suggested, "I do recall the funding for orphans to allow it."

I shook my head before professor Flitwick could answer in my stead. "It's all right, sir. I like her and I hope she likes me too," I swished the wand right and left, and as I did it sparked with tiny fireworks. "See? Guess we do get along."

"Indeed," Mister Ollivander muttered, eyeing the wand with a hawkish gaze, as if surprised himself, but then he smiled, "I suppose that you must be quite similar in nature to one of your parents, Mister Umbrus, take solace in that."

I nodded, "Thank you, sir," I looked towards Professor Flitwick, "Thank you for taking the time for this detour, professor."

"Mister Umbrus, your explosive transfiguration aside, please do your best to keep your newly found discovery tame and acceptable within the school's confines," Professor Flitwick spoke with a gentle, but slightly stern voice. "I am keenly familiar with the interest you have shown in practicing charms, and spells, and I approve of it. However do be careful," he added with a warmer voice. "At least, practice near the infirmary, will you?"

"Yes professor," I said with a smile. "I will."

Through the fire and flames...

...I would carry on!