Time Traveling Potion's Master

Hey, did you know?

Games always have rules.

Rules that you must protect.

Ones that you're forced to obey straight from the beginning.

That you must participate in this game is also a rule that has been decided for you.

The desire to win the games isn't enough to succeed.

Now let the game begin.

1958 The Beginning, Birth

The liquid that had been my home disappeared, in a rush everything was loud as my surroundings pushed and sucked and contorted me into uncomfortable painful positions while it suffocated me. It seemed to take forever and a moment before I was suddenly flooded with a painful light and a cold rush of air, the sudden shock causing me to cry out at the painful sensations as I was placed on something ice cold and slippery. The cold quickly seeping into my body like a dementor at my back. Opening my eyes, what I see is too blurry to make out. I feel clumsy, tired and weak, so weak...

"It's a boy?"

"-no girl"

Being moved from the icy surface, I'm scrubbed and placed on something comfortable and warm, but still doesn't contain the heat I need, but the rest of my body is still exposed to the icy chill.

"-Metamorphmagus?"

"Can't be- just tiny-"

Falling asleep to arguing as I was placed on something hard once again, I soon lose my battle with consciousness as exhaustion consumes me.

Childhood for the first few months was like living in fast forward. I couldn't distinguish between day and night, couldn't hold my bowls or feed myself. Quite frankly I am glad I couldn't remember most of it. It must have been horrible. The sensation of birth had been frightening enough.

When my eyes adjusted enough for me to see more then blurry shapes and colours, I find my primary caregiver is a house elf. The elf was… different to what I am used to; smaller and more well-dressed. Listening the best I could to the elf's ramblings, I don't learn much, as the elf kept referring to 'Young Master' and 'Mistress Rose' and little else in conjunction with what the women was doing and gossip. I hadn't even realised elves could gossip. Assuming it was only the three of them here 'Mistress Rose' must be his mother. I passed the time thinking and practicing. There was little else I could do.

When my muscles gained enough strength for me to sit up, I discovered pink was the primary colour next to grey. For some reason the colours unsettle me. Making me increasingly anxious as my stomach twitches and my hand aches. Probably a half-memory from the past I'd forgotten. Only seeming to remember facts, rather than clear events past this life. like I remember the levitation charm, how to perform it and some information on the charm and who taught me, but I don't remember context outside that it was a lesson. It wasn't long after I gained control of my body, that I was able to properly stand and crawl without incident, that I first met my Mother. It didn't go well.

Stumbling into my nursery more drunk then I have seen anyone in a long time outside of muggle nightclubs, I watched silently as she stumbled around before collapsing in the middle of the room in an ungainly heap. Her once impeccable hair and robes a mess. Her makeup running like a hysterical drag queens worst nightmare. Looking past the first blush, studying her in detail the best I could with my infantile eyes in the dark moonlit room. The moonlight reflecting off of vibrant curly red hair and pale skin. I couldn't see the colour of her eyes given her unconscious state, but it was only a matter of time until I found out. At any rate she is already a disappointment.

Flaring my magic in a small sharp spike, I wait for the elf to appear. When the elf took one look at the women and didn't seem surprised before it took her away, I knew this wasn't a rare occurrence. I thought on the ramifications of this until the elf returned an hour later with a bottle.

Accepting the bottle of milk silently, I wondered if the bottle contained formula or expressed breast milk. I don't remember if there was anything else infants could drink. When the elf realised I was fine holding the bottle on my own, it left. Staring through the bars and out the exposed window as I continued to drink, my mind whirled worriedly with what I just saw. Drunks were dangerous to those around them when they were muggles, let alone wizards. And children were easy targets. I will need to train my wandless magic much sooner than expected it seems. Setting my finished bottle aside, I lay down and try to get some rest, falling asleep easily despite the worried knot growing in my stomach.

AN: Edited 1/2/19