The World of Magic and Survival
**Chapter 2: A New Beginning**
The first thing Alex Black McKinnon—formerly John White—felt in his new life was confusion. There was a sharp contrast between the cold, detached void he had experienced with Death and the overwhelming rush of sensations that came with his rebirth. He couldn’t quite place what he was feeling at first—everything was raw, unfiltered. His new body was weak, small, helpless. The air was thick, and he could barely see. His vision blurred as though he was looking through a fog, and the world around him sounded muffled, like someone had stuffed his ears with cotton.
He tried to move, but his limbs flailed uselessly, too weak and uncoordinated. A soft voice broke through the haze, calming and familiar.
"Shh, my sweet boy," the voice whispered. "You’re safe now. I’m here."
He knew that voice. It wasn’t John’s mother from his old life—it was *his* mother now. *Marlene McKinnon*. A powerful witch and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. She had fought valiantly against Voldemort’s forces, but now she was just a mother, holding him close in a way that made him feel safe. For the first time since his rebirth, Alex felt a flicker of peace.
But peace wasn’t destined to last.
As an infant, his thoughts were fuzzy, and his emotions were a storm of confusion and frustration. He could feel the memories of his old life—his knowledge of the future, the danger that loomed, and the weight of his new role. But his body was so small, so powerless. The helplessness gnawed at him. He wanted to move, to talk, to *do* something, but his new form betrayed him.
The days were long. Time, once measured in tasks, work, and the rhythms of adulthood, now stretched endlessly. He was swaddled, fed, and carried about in soft arms. He often watched his mother through half-lidded eyes, her soft voice singing him to sleep. But in the rare quiet moments, when he was left alone, he struggled to reconcile what he was now with who he had been before.
*I have to be patient,* he reminded himself. *It will take time.*
One day, as he lay in his crib, watching Marlene quietly talk with her father—his grandfather—he heard whispers of a growing danger. A threat. He didn’t fully understand yet, but he knew it had something to do with the war, with the Dark Lord’s forces. His knowledge of the future was still too distant, too disconnected from his current reality. But even through the haze of infancy, he understood enough to sense the coming storm.
***
It was the night of the attack when everything changed.
The McKinnon Manor was a sprawling estate, ancient and rich with history, tucked deep into the Scottish countryside. Alex could feel the protective enchantments woven into the walls, an invisible web of magic meant to guard against outside threats. But as he lay in his crib, staring at the flickering shadows cast by the candlelight, something shifted in the air. A pulse, dark and ominous, rippled through the house.
He felt it before anyone else.
The wards had been breached.
A wave of panic surged through him. His infant body reacted instinctively, crying out in a way that felt both primal and useless. In the distance, he heard the first sound of the attack—shouts, spells being cast, and the unmistakable *crack* of apparation. The Death Eaters had come.
Marlene rushed into the room, her face pale but determined. She scooped Alex into her arms, cradling him tightly against her chest. He could feel the rapid beat of her heart. “It’s okay, Alex. I’ve got you,” she whispered, though her voice trembled.
But it wasn’t okay. The sound of spells crashing into the walls echoed through the manor. He could hear his grandfather shouting, desperately trying to hold them off. Through the cracks in the door, Alex caught glimpses of flashes of green light—*Avada Kedavra*.
“NO!” Marlene screamed, holding Alex closer as she bolted down the hall. He could feel her fear, her anguish, but also her fierce determination to keep him safe. He cried out again, but it wasn’t just the helpless wail of a baby. It was frustration. He knew what was happening, but he couldn’t do a damn thing to stop it.
They reached the foyer, and Marlene skidded to a halt. Two masked Death Eaters were blocking the entrance, their wands raised.
"Where do you think you're going, McKinnon?" one of them sneered, his voice cold and dripping with malice. "There’s no escape."
Marlene’s eyes narrowed, her wand already out. "You’ll regret this," she hissed, her voice thick with fury. She pointed her wand and shouted, *"Bombarda!"*
The spell hit one of the Death Eaters square in the chest, blasting him backward into the wall. But the other was quicker, deflecting her next curse with a snarl. “You think you can outrun the Dark Lord?”
Alex could feel Marlene’s desperation. She knew they couldn’t win—not here, not now. Without hesitation, she turned on her heel and raced toward the back of the manor. Alex’s small hands clutched at her robes, sensing the urgency in her every step.
“Hold on, Alex,” she whispered, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Just a little longer.”
Marlene ran faster, crashing through the back door and into the cold night. The sharp wind stung Alex’s face, but it was the least of his concerns. Behind them, the manor continued to explode with light and sound. Marlene’s father—Alex’s grandfather—was fighting for his life. And though Alex couldn’t see it, he knew the outcome. The McKinnons, save for his mother and himself, wouldn’t survive the night.
Marlene reached the edge of the property where the anti-apparition wards ended. With one last glance over her shoulder, she spun on the spot, and the world dissolved into a blur of darkness and pressure. When they landed, the air was different—cleaner, quieter. They had escaped to safety.
***
When Alex opened his eyes again, they were in a dimly lit office. The symbol of MACUSA—America’s Magical Congress—hung above the doorway, its golden eagle gleaming in the candlelight. Marlene was standing, still clutching him tightly, speaking in hurried tones to a tall man with dark robes. His face was stern, his expression unreadable.
“You’re certain no one followed you?” he asked, his voice low but authoritative.
Marlene nodded, her face pale but resolute. “I’m certain. They were too focused on the house. My family... they didn’t make it.”
The man’s gaze softened for a brief moment. “I’m sorry, Marlene. But you’ve done the right thing. We’ll keep you both safe here. The Dark Lord’s reach is long, but it doesn’t stretch to MACUSA—not yet.”
Marlene glanced down at Alex, her expression hardening into one of fierce resolve. “I need to protect him. He’s all I have left.”
The man nodded. “And we will help you. But you’ll need to stay hidden, Marlene. You know what it means to leave the British Ministry’s jurisdiction.”
“I know,” she said softly, her grip on Alex tightening. “But I’m willing to pay that price.”
The man gave her a small, sad smile. “Then welcome to America.”
***
In the days that followed, Alex’s emotions were a whirlwind. As much as his infant body tried to ground him, his mind—still sharp with the memories of his past life—knew too much. He had escaped one danger, but the war would find him again. There was no avoiding it.
Still, for now, they were safe. In America, under MACUSA’s protection, he could grow. He could learn. He could prepare for the battles to come.
And one day, he promised himself, he would be ready to face the destiny waiting for him back in Britain.