You could say a lot of things about Daniel Potter, but not that he was dishonorable.
A prostitute had just died.
This in itself would not, you might think be a reason for a man to stir himself.
But this prostitute was different.
She left behind a teenage boy, Daniel's son.
In her youth this woman had been a master of illusion, and traces of it lingered upon her son.
While he had Daniel's height and slight build, a glamour charm hid his true features.
With a grimace he kept walking down the long, dusty avenue to his destination.
Tread Lightly orphanage.
As he entered his eyes quickly sought out the object of his search.
There, curled in a corner reading was his son.
The boy was thirteen, two years younger than James.
You wouldn't know it to look at him.
His thin frame only just fit into a corner designed for much fatter, older teenagers.
With a flick of his wand, Daniel disabled the glamour, and looked for the first time upon his sons true features.
He was identical in every way but two to James.
One, his eyes were a light purple, the same as his mothers had been.
Two, he looked up at Daniel without a squint.
The last thought before the confused boy slipped into unconsciousness was, fittingly, oh hell.