"Where the hell am I?" A small child around the age of 5 mumbled to himself as he sat up from the bed he was just sleeping on, there was three other beds in the room along with three other children still sleeping in them.
The boy had dark black, thick and wavy hair, bright blue eyes and he was quite skinny and tall for his age, his face lacking a lot of the baby fat that it should have for a boy his age, it was a sign of the environment he currently was forced to lived in; showing that he often went hungry.
The boy looked around at the room once he had completely woken up, he saw the other boys that seemed to be sharing the room with him but he decided to forget about them for now as they were still asleep, he continued to looked around and saw that the room wasn't in the best of states, the walls were covered in ripped wallpaper and it was peeling away in places, under the wallpaper there was signs of mould and worn down paint that made it look like the walls have been washed multiple time, probably to try and get rid of the mould the boy thought to himself.
He then got up quietly and moved over to the window to see what he could find out from looking out onto the street down below, the first thing he noticed of course was that it was still night but there was street lights on so it was probably around midnight, closer to one if the amount of traffic was anything to go by, the streets reminded him of London, that's where he would assume he was until finding out otherwise.
He then took a step back from the window, he was going to continue to look around the rest of the room but he stopped suddenly when he caught his reflection in the window, "That's not my face... " He said to himself silently as he started touching his face with his hands and he watched as his reflection did the same meaning that it was indeed his reflection, "I look like a young Jon Snow."
After taking a moment to take that in he the brought his hands back down look at them closely, turning his right hand over so he was look at the back of it, "I don't have my scar anymore." He was talking around he scar he got on the back his right hand, between the knuckles of his first and second finger, he often said that it looked like a scar from wolverine claws breaking the skin when in fact it was caused by a tuna can lid cutting him when he was pushing down the recycling in the bin to make more room, he didn't even realize he had been cut until his mother had pointed it out to him, angry at him for bleeding everywhere.
"That's a shame, I was already used to that scar. But this just proves it even further, I've been reincarnated, I'm just not sure who I've been reincarnated into or where." He spoke to himself calmly, going back to his bed and the things he spotted underneath it.
Completely skipping past the fact that he had been reborn, which meant that he would of had to die, a realisation that seemed impossible unless for those that had been brought back to life on the operating table, and he decided to just moved passed it like yesterdays news.
He pulled out the two small cardboard boxes that were underneath the bed he woke up on and opened then up to see what was inside, hopefully it would have some clues as to who he was now, a name written down on something at least.
One box contained small toys, they were quite old fashioned and looked to be pretty old as well, but nothing to point him towards an identity.
The other box contained a few books, a couple pictures and a realistic dragon figure that was about 2" tall and 5" long, the dragon was a very realistic figure, you wouldn't be able to tell the difference between a real one and the small one in his hand.
"This actually reminds me of the charmed dragon figures that were used in the first task of the Triwizard Tournament, so they could decide which dragon the champions would be facing, I think that this is a Hungarian Horntail if I'm not wrong." He said to himself silently before he put the dragon figure back into the box alongside the books, exchanging the figure for some pictures.
Looking through them briefly he quickly noticed that they were all of this one black haired woman, often of her in a leather jacket next to a motorcycle, "This is probably my new mother." He said briefly before looking around the room again and then looking back at the picture, "But it seems that I'm at an orphanage so I won't have to worry about her and I can't replace my own original mother either so it's probably better this way." He said seriously, and he then went back to looking at the pictures.
He stopped at one of his new mother and a man with long, wavy brown hair, they were both leaning against a motorcycle with happy smiles on their faces, "Okay, this is either my uncle, my mother's friend or my new father." He said to himself before he turned the picture over so he could see the back. Luckily there was something written on it, 'Sirius Black & Isabella White, 1978'.
"Fuck ... I'm in the Potter-verse aren't I?" He asked himself already knowing the answer, "Well at least I'll be able to make and collect things I like form this verse, the Sorting hat and the four founders items are a must, be there's so much more in this verse that I can make use of, for example the moving tattoo's, Voldemort lacked too much imagination with the dark mark and you could say it's a good things I've been spoilt with what tattoo's become in the future, but if I can adapt it to magic, hahaha! I'm getting giddy just thinking about what I could get up to with enchanting as well." He began laughing, not caring about the sleeping children around him, when suddenly a pillow was thrown at his head, "Shut up Logan! I'm trying to sleep!" One of the children in the beds next to him shouted out, the reborn boy now known as Logan White threw back the pillow saying a small apology at the same time.
Logan then put the pictures back in the box, and returned the box to the underneath his bed, climbing back into it soon after, 'If I am Black's son then I'll have some access to the family vaults, I need to get to Diagon Alley soon ... If I remember correctly from all the Harry Potter fanfictions I read then the Leaky Cauldron should be on Charing Cross Road in London.' He thought to himself before finally going back to sleep, to get some rest, his new body lacked greatly compared to his old one but that was to be expected for a 5 or 6 year old.