Manchester, 444 Lily Street, Stone District, 1991
The late afternoon sunlight slipped through the wooden-framed window, flooding the modest living room with warm golden light. On an old, slightly creaky sofa, a boy with red hair sat, a mythology book open on his lap. His eyes occasionally drifted sideways, not to the pages, but to something—or someone—far more captivating.
Beside him, a girl with curly brown hair was engrossed in a thick book titled A History of England. Her brows furrowed in concentration, and her fingers occasionally brushed back the messy hair that fell into her face, a habitual gesture.
"Larry! Imagine us at Charterhouse!" the girl suddenly exclaimed, looking up with sparkling brown eyes full of enthusiasm. "A giant library full of books, classes that challenge the mind, and us studying together. Wouldn't that be perfect, Larry?"
The boy slowly closed his book, a faint smile appearing on his smooth face. His red hair, slightly longer than usual, fell over his forehead, and his eyes—bright green like spring leaves under sunlight—gazed at the girl with warmth mixed with a hint of mischief.
"With you at school, Hermione? That would be… quite fun," Larry replied, his voice soft but laced with a teasing tone that made Hermione's cheeks flush faintly.
Larry didn't overdo it—just a small smile and a look that was enough to make Hermione's heart beat a little faster. He knew his charm, something that always came naturally to him, but he held back with Hermione. The girl was too sincere to be teased excessively, and Larry valued the honesty in her gaze.
Behind his smile, he hid a great secret—a world far vaster than Charterhouse, filled with possibilities that even Hermione, with her wild imagination, couldn't yet fathom.
It all began with an event that still felt like a nightmare. One night, he was watching a TV series in his cramped apartment, chuckling at the chaos on the screen. Suddenly, the television exploded with a loud "pop," like a misplaced firecracker. The world went dark, and when he opened his eyes, he was no longer his old self. He was a tiny baby in a strange world—a world full of curses, dangerous names, and shadows lurking in the darkness.
The memory still gave him chills. A green light, cold and deadly, hurtled toward him and his twin sibling. His mother sacrificed herself, her body becoming a fragile yet powerful shield. The explosion threw him into the yard, knocking him unconscious among crushed flowers, surrounded by the scent of wet earth and broken petals.
His sibling was saved by someone important, becoming a legend spoken of in places he didn't yet understand. As for him? He was found by an ordinary passerby, assumed to be a nameless orphan, and sent to an orphanage on the city's outskirts.
Life at the orphanage wasn't as bad as people might think. With his handsome face and natural ability to make people like him, he was like a fish in water. The other children admired him, buzzing around him like bees to honey.
The caregivers doted on him, often giving him extra pudding at dinner just because he smiled and said "thank you" in just the right way. He learned that a genuine smile—or one that looked genuine—could open many doors, from hearts to opportunities.
But his greatest secret emerged at age five, when something inside him awakened. He called it the "weird system" because no other name fit.
Every time someone was charmed by him—whether by his smile, his words, or simply his presence—he felt a small surge, like a warm spark in his chest, and mysterious "points" accumulated. These points could be exchanged for skills, abilities, or even something that felt like power from another world.
What kind of system is this? he thought the first time, chuckling and shaking his head. Making people like me to grow stronger? This… can be played.
His life changed again at age seven, when he met the curly-haired girl in a city park. He was sitting on a bench, reading a borrowed library book, when she approached and started talking about the park's flowers with unquenchable enthusiasm.
He listened, smiled, and unknowingly charmed her with his easygoing manner. They became friends, and he, with his natural charisma, won over her family.
When they offered to adopt him, he politely declined. "I don't want to be a burden," he said, his voice full of respect, though in his heart he thought, 'If I became part of your family, how could I see you as more than a sister?'
His refusal only made the family love him more. They arranged foster care, brought him to their home at 444 Lily Street, and treated him like their own.
The girl, Hermione, began to look at him in a… special way, with a gaze mixed with admiration and something she didn't yet understand. And Larry? He enjoyed every moment, especially when Hermione showed her funny, stubborn side, like when she nagged about study schedules or overly perfect future plans.
Back in the living room, Hermione glared at him with a mock pout. "Larry, you're daydreaming again!" she said, hands on her hips, her hair swaying as if emphasizing her annoyance. "Do you really want to go to Charterhouse with me?"
Larry laughed softly, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind Hermione's face.
"Relax, Hermione. I'm not going anywhere. Charterhouse, university, whatever you've got planned, I'm in," he said, his voice gentle but with a teasing edge that made Hermione beam.
"Promise?" she asked, her eyes sparkling like little lights on her face, full of sincere hope.
"Promise," Larry replied, resisting the urge to tease further. His smile, slightly crooked and full of charm, was enough to make Hermione's cheeks flush faintly. He knew his limits—Hermione wasn't a girl who liked excessive teasing, and Larry preferred seeing her innocent smile over pushing his charm too far.
"You're impossible, Larry!" Hermione lightly swatted his arm, then hugged him like a kitten seeking attention. "You're too nice."
Larry smiled, gently patting Hermione's hair. In his mind, he thought of the new world awaiting him—a place full of secrets, possibilities, and chances to test his charm on a grander scale.
If I could make an entire orphanage like me, he thought, what could I do in a place that's more… magical?
Far from there, in an ancient castle hidden from the ordinary world, the atmosphere was far more tense.
In a room filled with old books and flickering candles, a woman in a green robe rushed in, her face brimming with excitement.
"Albus! The boy is alive!" she cried, clutching a slightly crumpled list. "Larry Potter's name is in the admissions book! He'll be a new student this year!"
An old man with a long beard stood, his eyebrows raised, his half-moon spectacles glinting in the candlelight.
"Are you certain, Minerva?"
"Absolutely certain!" The woman handed over the list with trembling hands. "His name is here, clear as day."
The portraits on the walls began to whisper, their voices mingling like wind in the night.
"Larry Potter? Harry's brother?" asked a deep voice, full of astonishment. "I thought he was lost in that attack."
Another portrait tsked, its head leaning out from a golden frame. "A miracle, truly. I thought that family only had one child left."
The old man raised a hand, silencing the portraits' murmurs. "We are grateful he survived. Minerva, we must prepare for his arrival carefully. He and his brother are vital to the future."
The woman nodded firmly. "We'll protect him, Albus. No more mistakes."
Voices from the portraits echoed, overlapping.
"That boy is special," one said, its voice full of conviction. "He may have a great role, like his brother."