1 Prologue

1991. Hogwarts Express.

In all its existence, the Hogwarts Express had never changed. The walls of Platform 9¾, from which it departed, had seen a lot. They had seen little Albus Dumbledore, Tom Riddle, and Harry Potter come here for their first train. Many others and even whole dynasties of wizards. Famous and not-so-famous, pureblood and Muggle-born, they all started their journey through the magical world from King's Cross Station and Platform 9¾. Every year on the first of September, the place was incredibly busy with parents seeing their children off to Hogwarts, some for the first time, some for the next year, and some for their final year. It would seem that everything from the very morning of 1 September 1991 went as usual, but when one interesting company entered the platform, it became clear that it was these wires of the Hogwarts Express that were destined to be fixed in all details in the memory of those who were on Platform 9¾ at that moment.

Almost everyone, some furtively and some without hiding their curiosity looked at the newcomers. And if it was still possible to see a glimmer of understanding or recognition among the pureblood wizards, the Muggle-borns looked at the eye-catching group of people with genuine bewilderment. A man in his thirties, dressed in a classic cut robe of spider silk and an expensive business suit, judging by the rings on his left hand, the head of a couple of ancient and noble families, with unusually white hair just below his shoulders and a piercing look in his dark blue eyes, was accompanied by two beautiful women, dressed no less respectably than their companion. The older of them, a bright curly-haired brunette with expressive black eyes, was about thirty, and the younger, a delicate blue-eyed blonde, was a little more than twenty-five. And this marvelously harmonious trio was seeing off four charming children, three boys, and a girl. It was clear that each lady was the mother of a younger couple, but the man... His features were evident in all four offspring: two boys and a girl looked at the world with the same dark blue eyes as their father, and the last boy flaunted the same white, slightly disheveled hair. The children were all the same age, all four were eleven years old, and today they were walking to their first Hogwarts Express. The people on the platform would probably have been more shocked to learn that this was not the whole family - there was another girl, two years older than the others. And this morning she left with her grandmother for France, for her third year at Beauxbaton.

Proud appearance, expensive clothes, coldness in his gaze, lack of acquaintances, clan rings on the man's hand, and most importantly, a special aura - at first sight, it was clear that this was not an ordinary rich and noble family, but something quite unusual. And almost everyone on the platform immediately became curious: who was it? The number of children, and wives as well, only added to the interest. Only a few, mostly purebloods, recognized the family by the family crests on the robes of the older generation.

The head of the family is Alexandros Peverell. He was a tall, well-built man of thirty-four. He was accompanied by his two legitimate spouses, Bellatrix Peverell, maiden name Black, and Narcissa Peverell, also formerly Black. People knew Alexandros as the head of the Peverell and Slytherin families, one of the senior members of the Wizengamot, a powerful wizard, the only known necromancer in all of Misty Albion, Lord before Magic, and the victor of the Dark Lord Voldemort. But no one knew, knows, or will ever know that once upon a time, in another life, he was Harry Potter - the Boy Who Survived. This is the story of Harry Potter's other life.....