No One's pov

**One Year Later**

A tall and striking man strode through the Ministry of Magic building. His long black hair that reached his shoulder blades was tied up in a ponytail allowing people a full view of his pale face and cold, clear, and dark brown eyes. He wasn't very old, late thirties maybe but a few wrinkles were present from years of dedication and work. His long black luxuries robes showed he had money. He soon reached his destination, the Minister of Magic's door to his office. He turned to the painting of an old man beside it.

"Please tell Minister Westbrook I am here to see him," the man's voice was as clear and cold as his eyes.

"But, sir, the Minster is very busy," the painting said.

"He's never too busy for me," the man stated as if it were obvious.

The painting opened his mouth to say something but then decided otherwise and walked out of the picture. He returned shortly after.

"The Minister will see you now."

The man didn't answer, instead, he turned the doorknob and entered.

Minister Westbrook looked up from his papers and smiled. "Ah, Mr-," he started in his high, squeaky voice.

"If you'll please excuse me, I would like to skip the polite greetings and get to the point," the man interrupted as he took a seat in front of the Minister's desk without an invite. "Zander Whitehurst."

Westbrook sat back in his seat and studied the man in front of him. "We've been trying to catch him. He's just a pesky fly we can't seem to get rid of."

"No, he's more than that." The man leaned forward in his seat. "He is dishonoring the name of Whitehurst which I can't have happen."

"The boy is very skilled and that is why he's been slipping our Aurors-."

"For over a year! The boy is only fourteen, Merlin's Beard! The Aurors you're sending are rubbish!"

"We are trying our best-."

"But you're not sending your best Aurors, as the situation requires."

"We can't be sending out our best Aurors for a-."

"Dangerous and talented boy? Let me put it this way, a few resources have told me that you want to remodel this office but you haven't the funds."

"You really think I'll give in to bribery?"

"Yes."

"Well, I'm sorry but-."

"Don't you dare say no." The man leaned forward threateningly. "You know I can ruin you like that." He snapped his fingers, making Westbrook flinch.

"I'll see w-what I can do," Westbrook stuttered. This man intimidated him.

The man stood and smiled. "I know you will." And as he was leaving he stopped and said: "Oh, and I want him alive." Then left.

Mister Westbrook took a deep breath as the whole room seemed to relax.

**Zander**

Some wizards were on my heels. It was a dark and cloudy night. I sensed that these ones were more powerful than usual. I crouched on a rooftop behind a chimney where I had would hide every night until dark when I would roam and find food.

"Found ya."

A man was suddenly crouching beside me.

"Drat!"

I got up and ran off the side of the building and when my feet hit the ground I kept running as if I hadn't just fallen twenty feet. I heard the wizard cursing behind me.

They liked to play games, these Aurors that were chasing me, well I do too.

A wizard apparated beside me and grabbed my hair and arm and slammed me and slammed my face into a wall. I cried out in pain. They were also more violent than usual. The girl in my head took charge of my body for a moment and made me yank my elbow back and into the wizard's stomach. She doubled over in pain and I kept running, blood drizzling from my nose. I exited the alley and dashed across a street. A spell whizzed in front of me, catching my left hand. I gasped as pain surged up my arm and my legs buckled and I collapsed, clasping my hand.

A wizard apparated beside me and kicked my stomach leaving me gasping for breath.

"Gotcha," he said as if we were playing a simple game of tag.

Anger welled up in my body and I yanked my wand out of my sleeve where I had tied it to my arm and shot a spell in his face. The wizard collapsed and I was off running again. I was out of breath after few minutes so I dove behind some boxes for cover and tried to catch my breath. I heard footsteps walking in my direction. I peeked between two boxes to see who it was.

A simple mortal girl about my age in a brown trenchcoat, fedora, jeans, and scuffed brown shoes greeted my eye. She looked lost and confused as if she had wandered down the wrong street. Her face was sharp and serious and she had a nose that looked like she had run into a wall and broke her nose and then someone had tried to straiten it but hadn't exactly succeeded, and her hair was a dark reddish-blonde that was let out around her shoulders.

Zander, there's something about this girl I don't like.

I slowed my breathing and waited until she was right by and then lept out and grabbed her in a chokehold. All ten of the wizards chasing me appeared in a circle around me. I held my wand to the girl's head.

"No one comes one step closer or I'll kill her."

The wizards chuckled and the one that had smashed my face into a wall said "Yeah, sure you will" sarcastically.

"Would you like to test me?" I asked.

The girl twisted around in my arms to get a look at my face and her eyes widened. I guess you don't see a fourteen-year-old with scars covering his face and running from ten weirdos every day. She whispered something that sounded something like my name and then said: "Sorry" and then bent her knees making me lean over her and then she stood up quickly, barreling her head into my stomach and making me do a flip over her. She had obviously been trained in self-defense. The last thing I saw before ten spells hit me, knocking me out, was the girl's grey-blue eyes and her serious and sharp face that looked down at me in disbelief as if I was someone who had lept out of a book.

****

I woke up and stared at the ceiling.

What happened? The girl in my head asked.

"You tell me," I growled at her.

You were caught. Brace yourself in 8,7,6,5,4-.

"For what?"

-3, 2, 1.

A surge of pain shot up my left arm and I curled up and closed my eyes until I could handle the pain.

Told you to brace yourself.

"Shut up."

Grumpy.

When the pain finally subsided I studied my surroundings. I was in a small, gray room that didn't have any furniture except for the small cot I lay on.

"What do you make of it?" I asked the girl in my head.

Well, it's a prison but not a really bad one like the one we were expecting.

I nodded and sat up and noticed my clothes for the first time. They were long robes that were clean and didn't have any tatters, my hair had been untangled and pulled back into a low ponytail, my shoes were new and shiny, and my burned hand had been nicely bandaged.

Somethings going on.

"What do you mean?"

They've been trying to catch you for over a year and they're treating you like quite civilly.

I nodded.

The door opened and the Witch that had slammed my face into a wall opened the door and entered.

My face dropped into an emotionless expression.

"C'mon," the Witch commanded, pulling me to my feet and making me walk in front of her. She led me out into a hallway with doors similar to the one we had just exited, and then into an elevator at the end of the hall. She pushed a button and the doors slid closed. We went up for thirty seconds and then the doors opened to a room full of desks that were buzzing with action.

The Ministry of Magic.

I was in awe. It was something magnificent for a fourteen-year-old boy who had grown up in a muggle family to see. Magic was everywhere helping the many Wizards while they worked at a steady pace.

The girl (I decided to call her Fele Mala because it was Latin for evil cat) pushed me through the large room. Even if I was going a quick enough pace she would push me. Finally, when we had gotten to a quieter part of the Mistry where the offices of higher people in the government were, I stopped and turned to her.

"I swear if you push me one more time I will sit down and not get up until you promise you'll stop," I stated, annoyed.

"Then I'll drag you by your hair," Fele snarled.

"Which will be very undignified for both of us but I'll still do it." I kept my expression emotionless so that she wouldn't be able to tell I was bluffing.

She considered it for a second then shrugged.

"Alright, just walk quick enough."

We began striding through the halls again. Soon we reached the Minister's office where we heard raised voices. Fele glanced at the painting beside the door, who nodded at her. She reached for the doorknob but I stopped her when I heard McConigal's voice. I don't know why she let me stop and eavesdrop, perhaps she had been in the same situation.

"I don't care how much money you give me! Zander Whitehurst is not allowed to come back to Hogwarts!" McConigal stated stubbornly.

"Minerva, please listen to Cosmo," a high voice that I didn't recognize but I guessed was the Minister's said calmly, "The school needs the funds at the boy needs schooling and protection."

"No! He put two of our students lives in danger and then blew my office up," Mistress McConigal said, unmoved.

"Both of the students say that it's not all Zander's fault, they had a part in it as well," a calmer and smooth voice said. I guessed that this man was used to sweet talking people into getting what he wants.

"Mr. Whitehurst, that is beside the point!"

My heart seemed to stop and I looked at Fele Mala for an answer. She didn't say anything, just stared at my expression as if surprised by my surprise.

"Minerva, please-."

"No, Prime Minister! No!"

"Funny, I thought teachers weren't supposed to have favoritism," the voice that had been identified as Mr. Whitehurst said.

"Favoritism?!"

"Harry Potter and his friends, Remus Lupin, and a large number of others with criminals were helped and schooled before and after their crimes."

"Lupin was not a criminal."

"No, but he was a werewolf and that's just as bad."

"Need I remind you that Zander nearly made his friend become a werewolf?"

"Need I remind you he saved the boy from the werewolf according to their reports."

Fele Mala decided we had heard enough so she opened the door and gently nudged me in.

I entered and saw the Minister, Misstress McConigal, and a dark-haired man sitting in chairs around a desk. They all rose when we entered.

"Ah, Zander Whitehurst," the minister said, "Please take a seat beside your father and we'll get some of your input in the conversation."

"F-father?"

My heart felt like it was suddenly yanked out of my chest and my lungs deflated.

Father. My father was alive. My dad was alive