Alan had no clear memory of Harry Potter's childhood, only a vague recollection of someone mentioning Voldemort breaking into the Potter home, killing Harry's parents, and then meeting his own end because of the boy. He had no clue about the rest of the plot, not even how a baby managed to defeat a dark lord.
Should he tell them? Or warn them? Alan felt a pang of conflict as he looked at their happy, expectant faces.
Lily noticed Alan frowning, lost in his thoughts. "Is something wrong? Are you nervous about starting school? I'm a Muggle-born too, you know. When I found out I was going to Hogwarts, I couldn't sleep for days. But once you step inside those walls, I promise you won't regret it."
"I wonder which house you'll land in. It's best if you aim for Gryffindor, of course. The others aren't bad, except for Slytherin," James chimed in, enthusiastically promoting his old house. Though he kept it brief, his disdain for the snakes was palpable.
"Don't listen to his bias, Alan. Believe in yourself," Lily countered, clearly unimpressed by James's narrow view. "Every house has its own strengths. No matter where the hat puts you, if you work hard and stay true to who you want to be, you can achieve great things."
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." With the soul of an adult, Alan wasn't actually anxious about school, but he appreciated the kindness in Lily's voice and didn't want to interrupt her.
Still, he couldn't find a way to warn them. What could he say? That one day Voldemort would walk through their front door and kill them? They wouldn't believe him, and besides, they were already active enemies of the Dark Lord. They were likely as prepared as they could be.
"It's getting late, Alan. Let me take you back before the streets get any more dangerous. James, Lily, you two should be heading home as well," McGonagall said.
"Yes, Professor." Alan and McGonagall began to gather their things.
Before they parted, Alan turned to Lily one last time. "Mrs. Potter, please stay safe. I wish you and your child the very best. I'm certain he will grow up to be your greatest pride."
After all, Alan thought, the boy is the protagonist. He didn't know how to phrase his concern, but facing such a genuine lady, he felt compelled to offer those few words. As for the future, he simply didn't have the power to interfere.
"Thank you for the blessing, Alan." Lily looked at the young student and felt a strange sense of familiarity, perhaps seeing a reflection of her younger self, or someone she had grown up with.
"This is a small trinket I made—think of it as an amulet. Consider it a gift to celebrate your enrollment. And do write to me if you need anything," Lily said, reaching into her handbag and handing him a small object.
Alan took it and saw a copper piece the size of a coin, featuring a lifelike carving of a doe.
"Thank you. I'll cherish it." Alan carefully tucked the gift away, said his final goodbyes to the Potters, and followed McGonagall out.
After another disorienting bout of Apparition, Alan found the second journey much easier to handle than the first. He shook off the lingering dizziness, rubbed his pale face, and thanked the Professor before returning to his room at the orphanage.
Sitting on his bed, he replayed the day's events. Everything about the magical world fascinated him, yet a cold reality remained: Voldemort was alive, and the atmosphere was thick with fear. He wasn't comfortable leaving his life in the hands of others, especially as a Muggle-born in a society that seemed to be fracturing.
He realized he needed to protect himself. Reviewing what he had learned from McGonagall, he noted three key facts:
First, the Ministry was on high alert. Underage wizards were now tracked by the Trace the moment they acquired a wand.
Second, the Trace monitored general areas. In a place crowded with wizards, the Ministry couldn't easily tell who was casting a specific spell.
Third, Dumbledore was the primary deterrent keeping the peace, and while Diagon Alley was patrolled, it remained the safest hub for magical activity.
Alan decided he couldn't stay at the orphanage. He needed to relocate to Diagon Alley as soon as possible to master basic self-defense before the term started. He drew his wand, looking at the deep black, matte finish of the wood.
"From now on, it's just us," he whispered. "I'll call you Dark Painting. Are you ready to show this world what we can do?"
As if in answer, the wand hummed in his hand, letting off a few harmless sparks. The connection felt deeper, more intuitive. He went to bed early, his mind set on the tasks ahead.
Meanwhile, Hogwarts stood like a silent titan in the night. Professor McGonagall climbed the spiral stairs to the Headmaster's office.
"Albus, how did the interview go? I don't have much faith in Divination. Most of them are frauds," she said, watching Dumbledore stroke Fawkes, his phoenix.
"Then I regret to inform you that we shall soon welcome a new Divination teacher, Minerva," Dumbledore replied, his mind clearly on the startling prophecy he had heard in Hogsmeade. He changed the subject quickly. "And how was your trip with the new student? You seem quite taken with him. Young Mr... Wilson, was it?"
"Alan Wilson. A very disciplined and polite boy. The orphanage staff had nothing but praise for his character, and I saw it for myself. We ran into the Potters today as well; Lily is due soon, and they took a real liking to him." McGonagall spoke with uncharacteristic warmth. Alan had truly left a stellar impression.