Dumbledore POV:
Dumbledore was investigating the unusual weather phenomena in Hogsmeade when he noticed a stranger, acting even more odd then even a magical place like Hogsmeade usually sees.
The boy was watching a few first year students eating Ruckus Sweets with a hard to read face that somehow managed to look confused and blank at the same time that it would have made Dumbledore laugh if the boy hadn't also looked so tense and wary.
He was balanced like he was ready for a fight and he held a rather large walking stick in his left hand. Dumbledore briefly considered that this stick could be used as a weapon. Keeping that in mind, he decides to approach the wild-looking kid.
Walking up the side of the street, he stops right behind him and waits for the boy to acknowledge him. When he realizes the boy is still transfixed thoughtfully with the first years candies he asks,
"Can I help you?"
The kid jumps and lands lightly without a sound, looking him up and down without answering.
Dumbledore had had to deal with enough warriors, ministry of magic workers, and death eaters not to know when he's being analyzed.
He was definitely being analyzed.
After a minute of this, the boy's eyes light up as if the information just clicked and he looks around nonchalantly as he says,
"Oh, I'm just.."
A blank look crosses his face and it's a look Dumbledore has seen all too often. Whenever he sees the Mirror of Erised.
Internal war.
"Sightseeing?"
Dumbledore says gently, hating to see such a worn down look on such a young person. For the second time in the three minute conversation, the boy snaps back to reality.
"Yeah, I've never been here before and I wanted to get an outsiders view before other people's opinions cloud mine."
It was this answer that gave Dumbledore pause, he eyed him curiously.
He didn't speak like any of his students in accent or word choice. Each of his words seemed to come with its own accent and origin, like he wasn't from anywhere in particular.
He also spoke quietly, as if he didn't want the wind to carry his words away. Dumbledore knew when he set eyes on him that he didn't belong here but now that he'd spoken, he wasn't sure that he belonged anywhere else either.
"Come with me, I'll buy you a butterbeer."
After checking to make sure the boy was coming, Dumbledore set out for The Three Broomsticks.
(The noise making candies in the movies go unnamed so I decided to call them Ruckus sweets)
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Jack, not Jackson
FanfictionWARNING: this book is about PTSD. Percy is blamed for what happens in the last battle. The deaths of the seven, Nico, Reyna, camp. All of them gone. even Annabeth, who had survived torture in hell with him. As punishment, He is cursed with a type of...
