The Weaponized Smile
The Surrey County Orphanage was an unforgiving place, but for Alex Benjamin, the isolation was the perfect crucible for his dark intellect. The constraints of a small, powerless Muggle boy only sharpened the adult mind trapped within.
His first priority was survival, followed immediately by resource acquisition. He recognized the matron, Mrs. Gable, as a vanity-driven authoritarian, and he quickly debuted his masterstroke: the Weaponized Smile. To Mrs. Gable and the occasional visiting benefactor, Alex was the portrait of tragic innocence—intelligent, heartbreakingly polite, and unnervingly mature. He was the child they could boast about, the picture of quiet resilience. This act granted him two things: favour and, more importantly, invisibility.
The Muggle public library became his true war room. He spent his afternoons meticulously cataloging his scattered memories from the films, cross-referencing them with historical texts. He prioritised the information that was most time-sensitive and politically explosive: the betrayal of Peter Pettigrew as the Potters' Secret-Keeper, the emotional weakness of Albus Dumbledore regarding his sister, Ariana, and his relationship with Grindelwald.
By the Autumn of 1980, Alex was fourteen. He had liquidated his small war chest of hoarded cash, forged a rudimentary identity paper, and spent a week tracking the mundane entrance to the Leaky Cauldron pub in London. He didn't wait near the pub; he waited near the shabby, deserted telephone box that led to the Ministry of Magic. Dumbledore was more likely to be returning from a tense Wizengamot or Confederation meeting via the Ministry entrance, weary and vulnerable.
The Negotiation: The Hook
The London evening of October 15th, 1980, was bitterly cold and thick with smog. Alex waited with a terrifying stillness that belied his age.
Finally, a shimmer. A towering, impossibly old man, dressed in sweeping purple robes, emerged from the telephone box. Albus Dumbledore looked exhausted, his magic vibrating with the tension of a world at war.
Dumbledore was already turning away, focused on the next crisis. Alex moved instantly, approaching the Headmaster with the calculated confidence of an equal delivering a critical message, not the timidity of an orphan.
"Professor Dumbledore," Alex said quietly, his voice perfectly modulated—polite, serious, and utterly devoid of childlike fear. "I need a word. About the war."
Dumbledore paused, his sapphire blue eyes focusing on the scruffy orphan. He dismissed the boy with a faint, polite smile. "My dear boy, I'm afraid I'm rather busy saving the world, and I rarely speak with... Muggles."
Alex dropped the bomb, his tone chillingly confidential. "It's about the Fidelius Charm you intend to cast on the Potters. You must know, Headmaster, that the Secret-Keeper will betray them. The weakest friend will become the deadliest threat. You must stop this plan before Halloween 1981."
The smile dropped from Dumbledore's face. It wasn't merely surprise; it was the sudden, physical terror of a known timeline being impossibly compromised. The air around Dumbledore crackled, and he grasped Alex's thin arm with a strength that belied his age, pulling him into a nearby, deserted archway.
"Who are you? That secret is known only to three living souls and one traitor," Dumbledore whispered, his voice a low, dangerous command.
Alex met the gaze of the greatest wizard alive and played his final, most sensitive card.
"I am an agent displaced in time, Professor. A consultant who needs your resources. If you still doubt the extent of my knowledge, I suggest you go to the portrait of your sister and finally make peace with Aberforth. His heart is breaking, and Grindelwald's last wish was for you to reconcile. Now, do you trust my knowledge?"
The triple mention of the betrayal, Ariana's tragedy, and Grindelwald's dying wish shattered Dumbledore's composure. He recognized the terrifying certainty of foreknowledge. This was not a child; it was an unparalleled temporal anomaly.
"Hogwarts. Now," Dumbledore murmured, conjuring a nondescript, chipped brass ring and placing it in Alex's hand. The world immediately spun away in a sickening, controlled rush.
The Strategic Lie
The Portkey deposited them in Dumbledore's dazzling office. Alex, his heart rate steady despite the monumental risk, did not sit down until his demands were met.
"I require three conditions to fulfill my mandate," Alex stated, leaning against the Headmaster's desk with the confidence of a CEO. "My safety, my tools, and my access."
He outlined his needs: permanent, secret residence within Hogwarts as a "research assistant" until his body was the correct age to enroll; a functional focus—an Anchor Wand—to channel ambient magic since his Muggle body rejected a true core; and, most importantly, total, unrestricted access to the Restricted Section of the library.
Dumbledore steepled his fingers, his eyes boring into Alex, struggling to reconcile the immense knowledge with the small, polite boy. "You ask for the keys to my castle, Alex. What is the guarantee? What is your first contribution?"
Alex delivered the lie that would secure his future, cloaking his true desire—the soul-swap ritual—in the necessary guise of defending the light.
"My first contribution is the key to defeating the Dark Lord permanently," Alex said, his voice dropping in severity. "I know how Voldemort cheated death. It's a violation of nature using soul fragmentation, creating an item known as a Horcrux. The books in your Restricted Section hold the key to understanding and destroying such abominations."
Dumbledore's eyes widened with profound horror and a desperate recognition that confirmed every dark suspicion he had ever harboured about Tom Riddle.
"Soul fragmentation," Dumbledore whispered. "Very well, Alex Benjamin. You shall have your sanctuary, your Anchor Wand which will have it's own magic core so you may use some magic even as a muggle, and your access. But what is the plan for the known Horcruxes?"
Alex smiled, the genuine, cold smile of a victor. "I control the timing of the reveal, Headmaster. If I disclose all locations now, the timeline will collapse, and my foreknowledge—your only reliable weapon—will vanish. The key to victory is letting the prophecy unfold until the final, critical moment. I am the consultant who ensures the ultimate, decisive victory, not a chaotic interruption."
The negotiation was over. Alex was fourteen years old, a secret resident of Hogwarts, armed with Dumbledore's trust and the key to the deepest knowledge, successfully preserving the timeline for his eventual rise as Phoenix Hellflame.