I'm still working on my LOTR and HP crossover but I just recently became obsessed with Magi and this prompt sort of stemmed from the same place as "A Second Hope" I'm really excited to see where this takes me.

"-You could for instance hop on a train…" Dumbledore gestured with a wizened hand toward the multitude of the steam trains waiting.

Harry paused "But what about everyone else?"

"My dear boy, the living rarely need help from anyone else."

"So, am I really dead? Wasn't I the chosen one? I thought I was supposed to save everyone."

Albus carded his fingers through his thick snowy beard. "Now Harry, we can't save everyone; we can only love them. As for you being dead, that is a question for someone far wiser than myself."

Harry sighed "Even in my imagination, Dumbledore speaks a lot without saying much."

Harry thought of Ron and Hermione. He thought of Ginny, Neville, and Luna. Of all of D.A. and the Order and the Weasleys. He thought of all the trails they went through and endured together. After a moment of long thought he looked up at his old headmaster.

"Sir, I'm tired."

Albus nodded. "I would be surprised if you were not."

"So if I get on a train. I would "move on" …right? To where?"

"To the next great adventure Mr. Potter. Whatever that entails."

"Thank you sir." Harry nodded respectfully at the old professor as he climbed onto the nearest train.

"Goodbye my dear boy."

Crying? Harry heard the sound of a woman screaming and crying. 'Who's in pain?' He thought. He felt a huge amount of pressure squeezing his body. Squeezing all of him. It was worse than Apparition. Apparition was quick but brutal. This is equally brutal but exhaustingly slow. He felt whatever was surrounding him. It was warm and wet; grossly undulating around him. Harry wiggled to escape this uncomfortable prison. The woman's shrieking increased. Another woman's muffled voice answered.

Harry felt the squeezing tube pressing him forward into open air. He felt the heat of a light on his closed eyelids. He wanted to open them but the wet goo he was covered in glued his eyes shut. Harry felt the rest of his body slide out of the pressured tube he was encased in.

The woman stopped wailing and the sound of feminine cooing began. Harry was lifted and rubbed with a rough rag. Exhaustion weighed him down so he did not even wonder how a grown man could be lifted so easily.

Harry was laid on a soft surface. Warm and smelling oddly of wisteria flowers and sea salt. It was warm and slightly moist with the smell of sweat.

The woman's cooing was right next to his head. "He's beautiful."

Another feminine voice sighed. "Look at that hair! So vibrant. I've only ever seen one man with hair like that!"

"Yes. No denying who his father is." The first woman mumbled. Her voice echoed oddly against Harry's ear.

"What will you do Alania? Will you tell him?"

"No. it won't make a difference. Besides, what king would want a whore's child?"

Harry felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. He realized what happened as he was cradled securely to his new mother's breast.

"Look at him. My precious baby boy." He still couldn't see but he could think of only one thing.

"Great adventure my ass."

Years passed after the disturbing experience of birth and Harry or "Sina" as he was now known lived a fairly ordinary life as he was now. He quickly realized that his mother was a high class prostitute at a very exclusive brothel. As her 4-year-old son, he was treated well by the other women in the building. He often helped around the brothel by doing small jobs. Washing clothes, cleaning bedrooms, and serving drinks to some of the customers.

The only person who seemed to hate him was the owner, Quinmir. He was a large greasy man who reminded him of a nastier Uncle Vernon. He had thick seeping boils on his face and neck and his nails and teeth were a nauseating yellow shade. He thought that Sina was a distraction and brought down the cost of the merchandise (his mother). The fat man often shot a kick out at the young boy when he crossed his path. He even tried to sell Sina once or twice but his mother had always intervened.

The men who visited the brothel were often in awe of how Sina looked. His hair was as short and wild as it had been when he was Harry but now instead of pitch black, his hair was a dark violet. His eyes were still the same vibrant green as his first mother Lily. But many attributed it to his current mother Alania who has soft moss green eyes not as shocking as his own shade but it was similar enough that nobody questioned it. His cheeks were chubby and soft, his skin clear and fair, Sina was self-aware enough to acknowledge that he was a lovely child. But being so lovely was not the best thing to be in a brothel.

Like right now. Alania was with one of her regulars so Quinmir took that opportunity to torment Sina. The young boy often helped the kitchens in the evenings. Customers often stayed so long that they had a meal with their drink and women. He was in charge of peeling potatoes and cleaning dishes and other small jobs easily accomplished by tiny hands.

Quinmir lumbered into the kitchen and yelled "Oi, Purple brat!" he never used anyone's name. Sina wasn't sure if it was to insult people or if he was too stupid to remember. Sina watched as he grabbed a few fruit slices from a nearby dish. Juice dripped from his jaw as he shouted for Sina.

"I'm here." Sina put his potato peeler down and stood just out of the man's reach.

"Good. Come on then I ain't got all night." Quinmir huffed and made his way toward the guest lounge where customers spent time choosing their bed partner.

Sina reluctantly followed the fat man out into the lounge. "Mother said I'm not to go in there."

SLAP!

Sina's cheek flared and Quinmir shook his hand to chase away the sting. "Well I said to follow, so follow stupid purple brat."

Quinmir yanked the back of his shirt collar and dragged him out onto the floor.

Customers paused in their drinking and girls gasped quietly into their hands as the brothel keeper dragged the little boy forward. They came to a stop in front of a man with a bejeweled turban who had a fierce red lipped scowl and mean narrow eyes.

"Here sir, this is the one I told you about." Quinmirs' voice became pitched and sweet.

"I see." The man's hand whipped out and grasped Sina's chin and twisted his face this and that way to examine him. "Interesting colors. Is his mother similar? I might be interested in purchasing her as well."

Quinmir sniffed "If only she did. I would make more money if she did but no, it's from his father as far as I can tell."

The lazily lounging man moved his hand to curl around a thick lock of Sina's hair. "And I'm guessing you don't know who his father is?"

"No. She's a rather popular girl, so there's no way to tell."

"Hmmm alright then. I'll take the boy." The customer handed Quinmir a sack of clinking coins and shifted his grip to Sina's wrist.

"Wait! You can't-you can't buy me!" Sina tugged his arm away from the man's grip but he readjusted his grip and shook the boy as he began dragging the boy out. Sina's throat tightened with fear. He knew slavery and human trafficking existed in this world but he never thought that it could happen to him. He never thought he could be separated from his loving mother.

"No! No! Mother! Mother help me!" Sina yelped as the turbaned man pulled him outside.

Alania came running out of her room. "Sina! My Sina!"

She was stopped by the brothel bouncers who held the sobbing woman back. "No! Stop! My son! Please!"

The sounds of her shrieks and pitiful cries followed Sina and the man out of the brothel.

I would really appreciate some reviews you guys!