The Tin Can Man I

It has been a couple of months since I have first arrived in this orphanage, specifically it is already July. . . . approximately 13 months later. However, currently, it has gotten better. I am able to stay awake for the majority of the day, but I still haven't been able to do much. Ever since I arrived in this orphanage, I haven't been able to sense my majic so I worked on my pronunciation instead.

That's right. I've already passed a year old. My first few months here was spent drifting between consciousness and unconsciousness. I never planned to spend my first year in the past like a baby with nothing to do, but I could only blame my infant body for feeling tired all the time.

This also means that at this time. The Dark Lord is ransacking through England looking for a baby that is prophesied to spell his end. . .

Wel. . . That never happened though. He ended up talking over the wizarding world about 16 years from now, so the only thing he's doing now is delaying when he takes over the world. I currently have absolutely no idea what to do to get to England and stop Voldemort.

I can speak clearly now, though I am still troubled with a few consonants like r and th. But again, though I have practiced my pronunciation in order to clearly say spells, I have not been able to sense my magic at all. Could I have turned into a-. . . a-. . . squib-? *sigh. I don't even wish to think of that possibility.

So currently, I'm out of options.

I tried to focus on m environment instead, so that I may learn how to cope and interact with these muggles while I live here but. . . I have learnt absolutely nothing at all! Actually, I have learnt the most useless and incoherent things that don't make sense at all and should not be taught to anyone!

Everything the children would talk about are fantasy characters in whatever book or movie they watched. I learned a bit about some muggle things and how they worked (like the television or light bulbs) but I knew even more about the Hulk and Black widow than I did any other more useful things.

Honestly, I don't even know where they come to learn of these things. I've read all of the books in the entire orphanage and there was nothing about 'superheroes'. (of course I only succeeded in doing so by sneaking around when they weren't looking. A 6 month old child, already crawling around reading books would be abnormal. If they found out, they might believe that I was possessed and try to exorcise me or something foolish like that).

There were also quite a number of faux newspapers detailing the stories of these 'fantastic superheroes', Who would even believe them? Mutants going around, using powers muggles came up with to bring down evil mutants.

Who even comes up with these things? I have to admit, they were beautifully written with 'authenticated' facts, pictures, and the like to prove their articles. If you didn't know any better, it would have certainly been believable. Maybe these papers are what the orphanage's children read. No wonder they seem especially exited when they talk about them! They believe it is actually true!

Potter was much like these superheroes, but at least Potter actually exists unlike these fake computer generated superheroes! I grew up to stories about him leading us into a better world as a stronger Dark Lord than the last. He killed Voldem- - Vold- the Dark Lord as an infant and secretly, one I will never admit, I once fantasized about leading with him either as his right hand man or an equal until I was 11 years old.

Pathetic, I know; However, the delusion of grandeur, of being on the same side with someone that great, I don't think anyone could resist. Us pure-bloods had the Dark Lord and the mudbloods had Barmy-bore and Boy Wonder.

*sigh* just thinking about it already makes me tired. I've always hated Dumbledore, he ostracized everyone he painted as black, and hailed everything white. But I guess we weren't any better, sorting everything as good enough or not. I could go on about my thoughts of the entire situation, but as I said earlier, I'm tired.

I've been thinking about everything and yet I get nowhere. Killing is bad, but killing a bad person is good. Hating mubloods is bad but hating purebloods is good? Torturing people until they loose their minds is bad but sending bad people into a dark gloomy prison surrounded by dementors to forever lives in fear and loose their minds is good?

I went to the 'good side' in hopes of a better life and of course to survive. I expected forgiveness and acceptance, but a deatheater's son can never be forgiven. I shouldn't have expected anything. At that time I never killed, I regretted hurting others, but a pureblood slytherin can never be trusted. I lost everything at once. My family, my friends, and everything I was taught to believe in. I lost my entire world, but- apparently everyone else lost more than I did. I wasn't to be pitied, since I was bad.

I could only tighten my jaw and clench my fist in silence when they pointed their fingers at me. The perfect example of a bad man. They laughed at my mother who betrayed the Dark Lord and sacrificed herself for me. They mock my father suffering in Azcaban for doing what so many others did. They speak of him like he was the lowest of scum but I remember him as my father.

My father who told me stories when my mother couldn't. Who taught me to work for things by giving me what I wanted as long as I succeeded in doing something no matter how small.

When I learned how to dance, he gave me new dress-robes and shoes. When I succeeded in my first drought if living death, he gave me a new potion's set with 12 crystal vials to store more of my potions. When I became the slytherin seeker, he bought my entire team nimbus 2001's.

He worked everyday even if the Malfoy fortune was more than enough to last us 5 extravagant lifetimes, just so that when it will be my turn to inherit it, I would have more than he did. He was as strict as he loved, my mother said to me once that he was an even better husband than a father. Of course, I didn't believe her since he was the perfect father. I wanted to be like him and I still do. It was only one mistake that lead him to prison, I was determined not to let it happen again. But how do I go back now?

***CRASHHHHH. BOOOOMMMMMMM***

My thoughts were interrupted by loud sounds from outside. Oh yes, there was also this new thing about muggles. It seems that more explosions happen in the muggle world than in Snape's potions class. There are always large "fights" as the faux newspaper would write it as.

These muggles sure go through great length to make other muggle's believe in this superhero nonsense. I swear, I could go deaf with all this noise and-

***BOOOOMMMMMMM***

I could only hold my breath and stare at the sight that beholden me. The- the roof was gone as well as half of the room and a portion or my crib. Wh-What was-

"HAHAHAHA YOU THINK YOU CAN DEFEAT ME?! YOU? A PIECE OF JUNK METAL?"

Eh?! there is a weird looking muggle in my room shouting nonsense.

"?! A baby? perfect!"

I could only stay frozen as his big burly hand grabbed me and pulled me up from by crib.

"I warn you. If you come any closer. Bye-bye goes the little baby."

Ah. My vision is getting blurry and it is getting hard to breathe.

I looked past what was left of the wall and saw a red and gold metal man float in the air. He- he's flying without a broom. I look at the strange man's eyes or where they were supposed to be and screamed in my head 'SAAVEE MEEE'.

I should have noticed that at that moment, a warm feeling was brought to life from within my chest and expelled towards the direction of the red and gold man, but I was too busy fearing for my life.

The floating muggle seamed to falter in the air for a bit before stabilizing and a voice came out. It was deep but not so, one that would come from a young adult.

"Put the child down or you will be in a hell of a lot of pain."

"Whatever you say Tin-can."

It took me a few seconds before processing that I was thrown. Thrown in the air like a quaffle at the start of a quidditch match. Everything seemed to slow down as I was flying across the room.

"Bloody Mother of-!"

I could almost hear the sound of heaven's choir as a light beam flashed just a few inches in front of me, striking the strange 'bad' muggle that I believe was trying to escape.

Before I hit the ground, i was caught in a metal arm, saving me from my death. I looked up and saw the red and gold man, tin-can was it?

For a moment I might have seen regret and curiosity flash in those glowing eyes, but that couldn't be. He was wearing a mask. I look down and saw his other arm lying dead to the world with sparks flying here and there. Ahhh, I see, it was a malfunction so he didn't mean to fire a deadly laser at me. AS IF I WOULD FALL FOR THAT!

What would you have done if it hit me huh?! What If I died! Take responsibility!

... I should calm down. It is very inappropriate for me to behave this way. I'm starting to act like one of those uncouth muggles. Living with children 24/7 for 13 months has affected me worse than I first presumed. I have become more immature.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. When I opened them again, he was on his way to putting me back into my severely damaged crib. Ah yes, you should put me down and leave at once, filthy muggle.

He soon picked up the other unconscious muggle and flew away. What an odd turn of events, I guess those faux papers may have been telling the truth. I feel more drained than usual, it may be better for me to sleep for now.