Well, well, well, it's about time. I've been wanting to write a Harry Potter fanfic for years now, I just never felt like I could get the beginning right until recently. Perhaps I was spurred to action by getting back into HP fanfiction, only to discover the same idiocy floating around? Hmm...

At any rate, let me start off by saying that I am emphatically opposed to the general stupidity of character bashing. These is a form of "bashing" that can come across well, but as a rule, it's just never a good sign. Nor is being overly critical of a character's flaws while producing another character who is better in near-every respect. Moving on.

There are no pairings in this story yet. For pete's sake, they're eleven and twelve. Little crushes, sure, but no real romantic relationships. That said, to get this out of the way, my preferred love interests for Harry are Hermione and Luna, followed by Fleur. The first two I understand, but I still haven't figured out the last one. But to be clear, no, I do not hate Ginny, Ron, Molly or Dumbledore, so don't expect any of that.

I've got a long rant waiting, but I'll post that at the end so we can simply get started. To any of my regulars reading this: I ran into some recent computer trouble that has created certain difficulties with my usual writing. Unless you intend to somehow scrape together and send me the money for a new computer, don't expect that to change anytime soon, but I will hopefully be able to update sometime in the near future anyways.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the associated characters.

SPECIAL THANKS: To Joanne Rowling for the Harry Potter series. I owe Rowling a great deal, as she inspired me to learn, to read and to write. I discovered my passion for books through the Harry Potter series and may never have found myself without them.

HARRY POTTER
and the SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
CHAPTER ONE: Regrets

Petunia Dursley stared at the letter in her hands, her mind barely functional from shock. She'd read and re-read the letter, over and over and over again and she did it one more time just to tell herself that this was real.

Her sister Lily had been murdered along with her husband and their murderer had vanished after a failed attempt to murder their baby son Harry, who had been left on the doorstep of Petunia's home along with the letter from Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the school where Lily had learned magic.

Vernon, Petunia's husband, paced back and forth, muttering angrily to himself as his wife sat on the couch, glancing between the letter and the bundle that held her once again sleeping nephew. Dumbledore's letter had warned Petunia that the dark wizard who'd murdered Lily had numerous followers still at large who would likely try to harm Harry, but that Dumbledore had been able to cast a spell using the power of Lily's love for her son to protect him as long as he shared a home with Petunia, his closest living blood relative.

"This is unacceptable," grumbled Vernon. "We'll find the boy an orphanage—better than he deserves really, the little freak."

"You're a freak!" "Freak!" "FREAK!"

SMACK!

Vernon froze. Not from the force of it, but rather from shock at his wife slapping him. Petunia's face was red with fury, but there were obvious tears of grief now streaming down her cheeks.

"Don't you dare," she hissed at her husband. "Don't you dare speak like that about my nephew."

"But Petunia, dear, you hated your sister…"

"No!" screamed Petunia. "What do you think I am Vernon?! Do you have any idea… any idea… you… you…" It perhaps surprised both of them a little that Vernon shrunk away from his wife slightly. "She was my sister. And I'll not hear another word against my sister or her son. Not from you or anyone!"

Many years later…

She still lived on Privet Drive, just not with Vernon anymore. It was barely a year before Vernon grew frustrated with the way Petunia treated her nephew and she couldn't entirely fault him for that—certainly it could be seen as odd for a woman to shower more love and care on her nephew than on her own son. Still, what had really bothered Vernon was just what Harry was, which had led to their near-total falling out and divorce.

How it was that she'd managed to take him to the cleaners in court was beyond Petunia, but she had a sneaking suspicion that she'd had aid of the decidedly supernatural variety. She tried not to think about it too much.

Vernon still lived close by and had custody of Dudley, as there was absolutely no way she could've gotten custody of two children, but she still saw her son frequently, which was a good thing as she strongly suspected she was the only positive influence in his life now. Not that she hated Vernon, exactly—it was not without reason that she'd married him, but his attitude regarding Lily's death and raising Harry had decidedly soured her opinions of her ex-husband.

Over the years, Harry had grown well—vivid almond green eyes identical to his mother's, but otherwise taking largely after his father, messy hair and all. His… conflicts with Dudley had resulted in some interested occurrences over the years, manifestations of his magical power. At one time, Petunia would've been horrified by the events, but now they just gave her a sense of heartache, conjuring memories of Lily's own manifestations.

It was a similar story with Dudley, who despite living with Vernon tended to spend more time around Petunia and Harry due to his father's busy work schedule. Worried about what Vernon might feed her son, Petunia always made sure to keep a close eye on him and Harry whenever he was over and had been relieved to see nothing more than some light-hearted play-bullying, the sort one would typically expect of brothers. It actually made her smile a bit.

She had, however, kept a tight-lid on the matter of his heritage. She had quite a few reasons for that really, all of them related to her memories of his parents. She vividly recalled Lily's descriptions of James Potter as an arrogant bully out to get her best friend (though at the time, Petunia really hadn't cared much for the boy herself and had no idea what became of him), though he seemed to have improved by the time Petunia met him herself. Another was that she wanted him to learn when got his letter, just like Lily had. Perhaps it was selfish of her, wanting to bring out the sister she'd never gotten to reconcile with in her nephew, but she ignored that nagging feeling. But perhaps the biggest reason was memories of her own childhood, when Lily had gotten her acceptance letter. How much Petunia had wanted to have that gift, how much she'd wanted to go to Hogwarts herself… and how bitterly jealous she was, especially as Lily became their parents' favorite. Petunia promised not to let that happen to Dudley, and also didn't want to risk Dudley getting any sense of false hope that he might go to Hogwarts—it was devastating enough to Petunia when she'd known almost immediately that it wouldn't happen, so how bad would it be if Dudley were hoping for a letter and never got one?

At this point, she just hoped she'd managed to be a good mother… to both of them.

Harry Potter had a rather different view of things, but then again, he was both ignorant of things his aunt knew and well aware of things she was blissfully ignorant about… and Harry had no inclination to enlighten her to the fact that her son was a bit of a bully. He really wanted to spare her feelings and for the most part Dudley wasn't too bad, probably because he was terrified of Harry informing Petunia

Uncle Vernon, the few times he had met Harry, had been bristling with obvious but well-restrained hostility, so Harry didn't think much of him. He thought the world of his aunt though, aside from the way she seemed to discourage him having friends (a matter in which Dudley might've unwittingly helped, given that he'd driven off most of Harry's prospective friends). Whenever he probed her about why, though, she merely pursed her lips and told him that he'd understand when he was eleven.

Which, as it happened, would be in less than ten days. Sufficed to say, he was really looking forward to this particular one, especially as Petunia had been telling him that he would likely be attending a boarding school where his parents had originally met. There had been an odd look in her eye as she said that, but he didn't press her on the matter.

Almost ten years had passed, all of it leading up to this moment as Harry picked up the day's mail and headed back to the kitchen for breakfast, idly flipping through the mail. The last item was odd a thick and heavy envelope of yellowish parchment with a wax seal bearing a coat of arms showing a large H surrounded by a lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake. As Harry entered the kitchen and set the rest of the mail down for Petunia to look at when she finished breakfast, he turned the envelope over in curiosity, never noticing that his aunt had suddenly forgotten the eggs she was cooking as she stared at the envelope with an expression for which the only readable emotion was sorrow, though for what no one else would ever know.

From that day forward, no matter how much later in life it was, Harry would always look back and think of that moment he flipped the unstamped envelope over that his life was changed forever.

Mr. H Potter
The First Bedroom
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey

Harry gaped slightly, for several reasons, but the two big ones were that he could think of no one who would write him a letter—after all, he hardly knew anyone outside of his family besides Mrs. Arabella Figg, a particularly nice neighbor who sometimes babysat him—and the precision of the address was a little absurd. He glanced at Petunia uncertainly and only then realized that she'd been watching him, only absentmindedly removing the skillet from the burner.

"Open it," she said softly, as though she knew exactly what he held in his hands.

Somewhat unnerved by his aunt's strange behavior, Harry did as instructed, breaking the seal and pulling out the folded letter within.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress

One Harry James Potter read these words several times before coming to the conclusion that he'd been pranked… at least until Petunia spoke up.

"I knew it was coming," she said softly. "I just didn't think it would be so soon…" Harry looked up at her with a small measure of shock.

"Aunt Petunia, what are you talking about?" he asked.

"Hogwarts," she said, "was the school your mother attended." She set the skillet down and turned all of her attention on Harry. "I promised that I'd tell you everything soon. Harry… it's true. That letter is real. Lily received one just like it, twenty years ago." Petunia closed her eyes with a pained expression, as if the memory were somehow physically painful.

"All these years, I've watched you, hoping and fearing that you'd show the same talents as Lily… and you did. Oh Harry, you may not have noticed it, but you did." Petunia knelt down next to Harry, hands on his shoulders. "It's real Harry. Magic is real."

"But… how…?"

And so Petunia began to explain. She told him about how his mother had received her letter, told him what she knew about magic and a little about how he came under her care, though she was somewhat evasive about that last bit.

They never did eat breakfast.

More than a week had passed, during which Harry had learned a great deal. Petunia related a few stories to him about Lily, told him about the magical marketplace known as Diagon Alley and the blatantly magical Platform 9¾, though she tended to get especially evasive about that last one. He'd also learned that Mrs. Figg had her own connection to the magical world and had told him a little of some famous figures in that world, particularly that of the Hogwarts headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

It was certainly an experience for him. Petunia had sent a reply for Harry and had explained to him that they'd get his school supplies after his small birthday party, to which Vernon refused to go and Dudley had come with Mrs. Figg. Birthdays for Harry were always small due to his lack of friends, which he suddenly understood better now that he knew where he'd be going to school for the next seven years.

The party itself still proved unusual because of one of the gifts he received: a photo album from Mrs. Figg of his parents and their friends… and the photos were moving. Harry had the presence of mind to hide this from Dudley, as they still hadn't told him about magic. To Petunia, it was already obvious that Dudley had received no letter, as there was no way he wouldn't have told her about it (and no way Vernon could've stopped it, seeing as someone from Hogwarts staff would've delivered it personally). This upset her slightly, since it reminded her of her own youth, but Harry had been eager to tell his cousin, who was after all the closet thing he had to a friend, despite some occasional playful bullying of the sort one would generally expect between family.

And then the party was brought to an abrupt halt by a loud knocking on the door. Frowning, Petunia headed to answer it while Harry and Dudley glanced at each other uncertainly.

"You make any new friends I haven't heard about?" asked Dudley. Harry shook his head.

"No… well, not yet," he said uncertainly. "I got an invitation last week to the school my parents attended, so I'm hoping to make some friends there."

"I don't think you'll have any trouble," said Dudley as they heard Petunia talking to someone in the hall. "Of course, I suppose most of the people who've wanted to be your friend just thought you could protect them from me."

"You're not as big a bully as you like to think," said Harry dryly. Mrs. Figg watched the byplay with some amusement.

"I defy you!" proclaimed Dudley dramatically, emphasizing his words with a pointed finger at Harry, even as footsteps approached from the hall. Conversation died off at that point, though, because Petunia was so light that you could barely hear her walking most of the time… but the footsteps now approaching seemed like they were shaking the whole house. Mrs. Figg didn't seem to notice, but as Petunia entered the kitchen Harry and Dudley looked up with wide eyes at the figure behind her.

The man was absolutely enormous—Harry didn't know that he'd ever seen such a large man anywhere, even including André the Giant on the TV. He was severely hunched over, bent at the knees, waist and shoulders, but his head still brushed the ceiling, as if he were at least twice as tall as a full grown man at full height.

"So there yeh are, Harry," he said, beetle black eyes twinkling merrily behind the scraggly and wild beard and hair that covered almost every other part of his face. "Haven't seen yeh since yeh were just a baby. Ah, that was a bad night all over."

Harry and Dudley shared looks of absolute shock before Petunia intervened.

"This man is from Harry's new school," she said quickly. "He's here to help us get school supplies. Duddiekins, could you head back to Vernon's? Harry and I will tell you more later."

"Um, yes, sure thing mum," said Dudley standing up and giving Harry a quick hug. "See ya Harry. Have fun. Happy birthday."

"Thanks Dud," said Harry with a small smile before his cousin gave his mother a hug and received a kiss on the cheek. The giant shifted away from the hallway entry, allowing Dudley to pass him and head for the front door as he bid Petunia and Mrs. Figg goodbye.

"Well, Hagrid, I can't remember the last time I saw you," said Mrs. Figg once they heard the door close. She stood up. "I think I'll be off myself. I'm sure you've got a great many things to discuss, so I won't impose."

"O' course Mrs. Figg," said Hagrid cheerfully. "An' where are me manners?" he continued, looking at Harry as Mrs. Figg left. "Let me introduce meself. Rubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts. Yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course."

"Um… some stuff," said Harry a bit nervously.

"Mr. Hagrid, I only told him about it when he got his letter," said Petunia. Hagrid looked outraged. "I thought it for the best, and from Dumbledore's letter, he thought it a good idea as well and trusted my judgment." The giant seemed to deflate a little at that.

"Well, fair enough I suppose," he said, stepping further into the kitchen before gently settling down on his knees. "Anyways, best we get on with this. Had to ask special permission to come down here; Professor McGonagall objected to it, but I was really looking forward to it. Doesn't mean I should stay too long o' course." Hagrid glanced around before chuckling softly. "I'll be waitin' outside for yeh two."

A few hours later, after hopping on a bus, a train and then another bus, Harry, Petunia and Hagrid arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.

"Now, a bit o' advice for yeh two," said Hagrid as they approached the bar. "Try an' keep yer heads down—Harry'll be getting enough attention as it is." The two nodded, Harry with more energy than his aunt. "An' tha's not even considerin' yerself, Mrs. Dursley. Folks remember her." An unreadable expression flashed across Petunia's face at that.

Hagrid pushed open the door of the Leaky Cauldron and stepped inside. The patrons quieted as they did so, focusing on Hagrid.

"Welcome back Hagrid," said the bartender. "The usual?"

"I'm afraid not Tom," said Hagrid. "Here on official Hogwarts business, guidin' a new student and his mother ter Diagon Alley." With that, Hagrid led the two through the bar, taking advantage of his imposing height and presence to get the two past without anyone looking two closely.

"Three up, two across," muttered Hagrid. "Now remember this Harry, fer the future." He then took his umbrella and tapped one of the bricks three times. With the third tap, the brick began to shake and then withdrew into the wall, along with the bricks around it. Harry stared in wonder as an archway big enough for Hagrid to pass through formed and on the other side was a street filled with oddly dressed people.

"Welcome," said Hagrid with a broad grin, "to Diagon Alley!"

But where Harry was in awe, Petunia's expression was unreadable.

"Come on then," said Hagrid. "Firs' stop is Gringotts, the wizard bank. Lily and James left a little somethin' fer yeh Harry."

By the time they left Gringotts after retrieving the money Harry would need for school, the young wizard was feeling a mix of awe, curiosity and annoyance.

Awe at the contents of his family vault: piles and piles of gold, silver and bronze coins, surrounding a handful of miscellaneous other items; a small fortune Harry had never known about. Curiosity at what Hagrid had needed to retrieve from Vault 713. And annoyance at the goblins, whom he wasn't certain he cared for, particularly the way they made Petunia so uncomfortable (such that she'd opted not to descend into the vaults and instead wait outside the bank).

"Right then," said Hagrid cheerfully. "Yeh got yer letter with yeh, right? Has a list o' all the things yeh'll be needin'." Harry nodded, and pulled the list out of his pocket, giving it another look over. "Migh' as well start wit' yer uniform. Uh, listen yeh two, would yeh mind terribly if I slipped back ter the Leaky Cauldron fer a pick-me-up? I hate them Gringotts carts…"

"Yes, that'll be fine," said Petunia, staring at Hagrid's slightly ill complexion.

After Hagrid departed, Harry and Petunia made their way into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"Hogwarts, dear?" asked Madam Malkin, a squat smiling witch dressed all in mauve. "We've got everything you'll need. We've got another student being fitted up just now, in fact."

She led them into the backroom where a pretty blonde girl was being fitted by another witch. As Petunia looked on, quiet and uncertain, Harry was directed to stand on the stool next to the girl's, with Madam Malkin putting a long robe over his head before she started pinning it up and taking measurements with quick and practiced ease.

"Are you a new Hogwarts student as well?" asked the blonde.

"Yes," said Harry with a small nod.

"You're lucky to have your mother staying with you," the blonde continued. Harry and Petunia both started slightly at that. "Mother and father are buying supplies while I'm in here."

"Err… yes, I guess I am more comfortable with Aunt Petunia here," said Harry.

"Oh? My mistake then. Sorry," she said. "Where are your parents then?"

"They're dead," said Petunia quietly, but there was a sharpness to her voice Harry could never recall hearing before. Silence filled the room at that, while the blonde looked a bit like she'd been slapped.

"Oh… oh I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Its fine," said Harry quickly. "You couldn't know."

"Yes… yes, but still, I'm sorry." The blonde shook her head, then seemed to try turning to lighter topics. "Do you know what house you'll be in? I'll be in Slytherin of course."

"Um…" Harry looked at Petunia pleadingly and, with a small sigh and shake of her head, his aunt relented.

"His parents were both in Gryffindor," she said. That seemed to startle the blonde again.

"Oh… I see…"

She fell completely quiet after that and, a moment later, was told that she was done.

"Well… maybe I'll see you at school?" said the blonde uncertainly as she departed. Harry didn't answer her, a bit put-off by her behavior and wondering to himself what the houses were.

A few moments later, Harry and Petunia left Madam Malkin's just as a blond boy was pompously walking in like he owned the place. Hagrid was waiting for them and Harry immediately asked about Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"Ah, right," said Hagrid. "They're two of the four houses o' Hogwarts, one for each of the founders. You got Gryffindors who are all basically courageous and reckless, Hufflepuffs who don't fit into the other houses, Ravenclaws who are real smart and then the Slytherins. Better any o' the others than Slytherin though—not a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin."

"He was in Slytherin," said Petunia, looking at Hagrid sharply. "Lily's best friend." That startled Harry a good deal, while Hagrid looked like he'd been slapped (Harry decided that he was rather amused by the way his aunt kept verbally bitch-slapping people since they arrived).

"Err… well, anyways, let's get on with collectin' yer supplies," said Hagrid quickly.

With all the crowds, it took them about an hour to purchase most of the school supplies, including a gorgeous snowy owl Hagrid bought Harry as a birthday present. There was just one more thing to buy, and they arrived at a shabby, narrow shop with peeling gold letters over the door reading Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

When they stepped inside, it was to find an Indian couple paying for the wands of their twin daughters and turning to leave. Mr. Ollivander focused on them and gave a small smile once his other customers were gone.

"Ah yes, I've been expecting you Harry Potter," he said before focusing on the other two. "Petunia… you I did not expect. After the last time I saw you, I was certain you'd rather not have anything to do with magic."

"Times change, Mr. Ollivander," said Petunia quietly. Mr. Ollivander nodded before focusing on Hagrid.

"Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again… an oak wand, sixteen inches, rather bendy as I recall."

"It was sir, yes," said Hagrid brightly.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?"

"Err… yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid shuffling his feet, but Mr. Ollivander turned his attention back to Harry.

"You have your mother's eyes, you know," he said. "It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander stepped closer while Petunia stepped back just slightly. Harry didn't blame her, as the man's silver eyes thoroughly creeped him out, especially with the lack of any blinking.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent of transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it—it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

He then stepped a bit closer, almost nose to nose with Harry.

"And that's where…" Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…" He shook his head suddenly, pulling out a measuring tape. "Well, that's the past now. Best to focus on the here and now. Now, which is your wand arm?"

The next half hour or so seemed a flurry of activity to Harry as the measuring tape examined him on its own while Mr. Ollivander pulled wands off the shelf, explaining about the uniqueness of them and the types of cores he used. Then, after calling off the measuring tape, he started putting wands in Harry's hand while explaining the make, length, core and properties of each, only to immediately snatch them away. As the pile of wands grew with Harry, Petunia and Hagrid watching with a degree of amazement and Harry's anxiety grew with it, Mr. Ollivander became increasingly excited.

"A tricky customer, very tricky," he said. "Can't remember the last time I had one like you, oh no… hmm, I wonder… yes, yes, why not… here, holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

This time, as Harry took the wand, he felt a sudden warmth under his fingers and, for the first time, it wasn't snatched away immediately. He gave it a quick wave and was shocked to see a stream of red and gold sparks shoot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on the wall.

"Oh, bravo!" cried Mr. Ollivander. "Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious…"

"Excuse me," said Harry, "but… what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale gaze.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold Mr. Potter," he said softly. "The phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feather… just one other… it is curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother… why, its brother gave you that scar." The other occupants of the store gasped slightly, each throwing a brief glance at the wand Harry held, though there was something more in Hagrid's gaze as well. "Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter… after all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things—terrible, yes… but great."

After that, Hagrid took them to Florian Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor as a final stop before departing and Harry decided that the matter couldn't wait any longer.

"What really happened that night?" asked Harry, staring at the other occupants of the table (Petunia had declined getting anything herself, though Hagrid had offered). "He killed them, didn't he? The man who gave me this." He touched his scar lightly. Hagrid glanced at Petunia, but she closed her eyes and shook her head with a pained expression on her face.

"Well… don't know that I'm the right person ter tell yeh that Harry," said Hagrid softly, glancing around and leaning a bit closer. "But yeh've got ter know and I don' think Petunia here wants ter be the one ter tell yeh." He sucked in a deep breath.

"Somethin' yeh have ter understand, Harry," he started, "is that not all witches or wizards are good. Some go bad. Years ago, there was one wizard who went so bad, did such evil that even today people are afraid ter say his name. But you… yeh've got ter know… his name is Vol–" But the word seemed to tangle on his tongue, Hagrid shuddering just slightly, though there was a bit more than fear to it.

"Voldemort," supplied Petunia softly. Hagrid shuddered again, but nodded his thanks to her.

"Anyways, 'bout twenty years ago he started his rise ter power," said Hagrid. "Just before yer parents started at Hogwarts. Made war on Magical Britain. No one since Grindelwald were so terrible. He gathered followers, feared no one but Dumbledore… it was terrible. Hogwarts was about the only place safe from him. But then, ten years ago, he went after yer parents. Don't know why meself, but he did. What happened that night…" He shook his head. "Don't think anyone rightly knows, not even Professor Dumbledore. But he killed them. He killed Lily and James. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em. No one, that is… 'scept you."

"Me?" gasped Harry. Hagrid nodded solemnly.

"He tried," said Hagrid. "That's no ordinary scar. That scar came from the touch o' a dark magical curse, a curse o' pure evil… but his curse didn't work on you. The house exploded and You-Know-Who was gone."

"What happened to him?" asked Harry.

"Well… some say he died. Codswallop in my opinion—don't think he had enough human left in him ter die. No, I reckon he's ou' there still, bidin' his time, waitin' for a chance to regain what he lost. Harry, that's why I've been tryin' to keep yer head down. There's not a child in our world who doesn't know yer name. Fer awhile after it happened, everyone was celebratin', raisin' glasses to Harry Potter… the Boy-Who-Lived." There were tears in Hagrid's eyes at this point, and Harry thought he could just see tears at the corners of his Aunt's eyes as well.

Not long afterwards, they departed Diagon Alley. Hagrid made sure Harry had his ticket for the Hogwarts Express, and then vanished.

Not having any friends (bar Dudley), Harry didn't exactly get out of the house much except to go on walks or when Petunia took him somewhere. Even still, the amount of time he spent cooped up over the next month was an oddity, especially as the days continued to get cooler and more comfortable. Granted, he was hardly ever alone, with his new pet owl, Hedwig, almost constantly at his side as he studied.

But he'd thrown himself into his textbooks with wild abandon, in particular studying potions and charms, having gathered that those were the subjects his mother did best in, giving him a certain enthusiasm for those two subjects in particular. It also helped to take his mind off of the grim tale Hagrid had shared with him, letting him cope more easily with the uncomfortable knowledge he'd been given. Even still, his mind often wandered to his wand, uncertain how he felt about being "chosen" by the brother of the wand that had murdered his parents. On the one hand, it made him a bit uncomfortable, as if he were directly connected to the murderer and his weapon. On the other, it was a chance to overcome the events of his infancy. In the end, he kept settling back to letting events unfold.

With all of this distracting him, Harry never did get around to telling Dudley about magic before the month was up and Petunia rushed him out to King's Cross station to catch the Hogwarts Express.

"I remember," said Petunia softly as they arrived at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. "Run through the barrier to get to the platform… you'll pass through, as long as you know what's waiting for you." She blinked and looked at Harry. "Would you like me to go first?"

"Can you?" asked Harry. "The way Hagrid was talking about it…"

"I did it before… twenty years ago, when I… when Lily first went." Harry looked at the barrier. It seemed pretty solid to him. "Just watch Harry." She then stepped forward… and vanished from sight. Harry blinked in amazement.

"I love magic," he said softly before he pushed his trunk through at a bit of a run.

He found himself on an open-air platform with Petunia on the other side. There were train cars as far as the eye could see and a great scarlet train engine with HOGWARTS EXPRESS printed across it in gold lettering. Harry looked around in awe, seeing dozens of people walking about, some heaving trunks onto the train, and so he completely missed the pained expression on his aunt's face as she looked around.

"That's where you're going. A special school for freaks. You and that Snape boy… weirdos, that's what you two are. It's good you're being separated from normal people. It's for our safety."

Lily had forgiven… Lily always forgave… Petunia squeezed her eyes shut.

Lily had always been the better person.

"Let's find you a compartment," said Petunia, more to distract herself than anything. Harry nodded, and the two made their way down the platform before finally coming to an empty car. Petunia helped Harry get his trunk onto the train before she stepped back off and stared at him intently.

She barely knew James Potter, though she knew of how closely Harry resembled him. But still, selfishly, she hoped that Harry would be more like Lily, more like the person who had gifted him with her eyes, more like the sister she had pushed away and lost.

Petunia surprised Harry when she pulled him into a tight embrace.

"Take care of yourself Harry," she said. "Study hard, make friends… make her proud."

"I will Aunt Petunia," said Harry, choking back tears as he returned the hug. "I'll miss you."

"Please… keep in touch," said Petunia softly. "You're all I have left of her."

"I promise."

Petunia finally pulled back from the hug and stared intently into Harry's almond green eyes.

"Goodbye Harry," she said. "I'll see you at Christmas break, okay?"

"Of course!"

Petunia smiled.

"I have to go," she said. "I can't stay. It brings back painful memories. Be careful, and be like her." Harry nodded emphatically, then watched with a degree of sadness as Petunia left, soon disappearing back through the barrier to King's Cross.

Heaving a sad sigh, Harry turned back into the car and moved his trunk and Hedwig to a compartment. He struggled futilely for a moment to put his trunk in the overhead compartment before an older student with brown hair suddenly arrived to lend him a hand.

"Thanks," said Harry.

"Not a problem," replied the handsome boy, whom Harry estimated to be about three years older than himself. "You'd think there would be more people around to help first years load their stuff. Where were your parents?"

"My aunt brought me here," said Harry quickly, glossing over his parents, not wanting a repeat of the meeting with the girl in Madam Malkin's. "But being on the platform brought back painful memories so she left after we found an empty car."

"I see," said the boy. "Well, I guess that's how these things go sometimes. I'm in the next compartment over, but would you like some company for a bit while I wait for my friends to show up? My own parents already left as well."

"That'd be fine," said Harry with an eager nod. The older boy smiled and held out a hand.

"Good to hear. Name's Cedric Diggory, by the way."

"Harry Potter," replied Harry, taking Cedric's hand. The brunet's eyes widened slightly.

"Really?" he said, eyes flickering just briefly to the lightning bolt scar. "I see… so that explains… I'm sorry."

"Please, don't," said Harry. "Really. This girl in Diagon Alley wouldn't stop apologizing about it when she heard about my parents. I didn't give her my name."

"I see," said Cedric, sitting down, Harry sitting opposite him. "I can't really say I understand what that's like. My mum and dad are both doing fine, though dad's pretty busy with his work for the Ministry. What about your aunt then?"

"She's wonderful," said Harry. "A bit distant and quiet sometimes, but she's really nice."

"This is on your mum's side, right? I think I heard that your father was an only child."

Harry shrugged. "Guess so," he said. "I don't really know a lot about my dad or his family."

"Really?" asked Cedric in surprise. "I'd have wanted to learn all I can if…" He suddenly looked sheepish. "Well, I guess I'm not the best judge."

"Its fine," said Harry with a small smile. "Actually, it's nice having someone to talk to. Aunt Petunia doesn't like to talk about it and…"

"And living in the Muggle world, there aren't many people to talk to about it," concluded Cedric with a small nod. He smiled as well. "Well then Harry, I wish I could enlighten you about your parents, but…" He held out his hands helplessly. "About all I know is that they fought against You-Know-Who and your father was an excellent quidditch player."

"Quidditch?" asked Harry. Cedric looked thunderstruck for a few seconds before a look of abashed realization crossed his features.

"Right, I guess you wouldn't know," he said. "Well, I guess there's something I can tell you about besides talking to you about schoolwork, which you'll have plenty of time for when we get there." Harry nodded, a bit eager to learn this new info about the wizarding world, and Cedric launched into a lengthy explanation on the subject, detailing the positions, the balls and the important role played by the seeker, letting slip during this time his own hope to become seeker for his house quidditch team, Hufflepuff.

Eventually though, Cedric's friends showed up and he left to join them, quietly assuring Harry that he wouldn't mention who he was to them. Cedric had correctly guessed that Harry would rather not be gawked at.

After Cedric left, Harry glanced out the window to see the platform now full of people and glanced at his watch. It was only about twenty minutes until their departure time, so the number of people wasn't really surprising. The other compartments in the car were filling up quickly.

"Excuse me," came a girl's voice. Harry turned his attention to the compartment door where a short girl with sharp features and raven-black hair stood. "Is there anyone else sitting here?"

"Not yet," said Harry, standing up. "Would you like some help?"

"That'd be fine, yes," she replied, pulling her trunk into the compartment and, with Harry's help, lifting it into the overhead bin right next to Harry's trunk. "Thank you for that. I'm Tracey Davis." She held out a hand to him.

"I'm…" started Harry before a boy with blond hair showed up in the doorway.

"Hello," he said, glancing between them. "Whole car's full. Don't suppose there's any room left in here?"

"Two more seats," said Tracey, looking mildly annoyed.

"Let me help with that," said Harry, stepping forward. It didn't take long for them to stow the trunk. Harry found himself idly wondering if he was the only one who had a pet with him.

"Sorry I interrupted," said the boy suddenly. "I'm just new to this. Name's Anthony Goldstein."

"Tracey Davis."

"Har–"

The compartment door opened again, and this time a girl with a long plait of red hair down her back stood there. Harry let out a faint sigh of exasperation.

"I should stop trying to introduce myself," he said. "It seems every time I do, someone else shows up, and I don't think the compartment can hold anymore."

"Oh! I'm sorry," said the redhead. "I just thought it seemed there was still room in here."

"There is," said Harry. "But just for one more. Well, I guess since we're all small that we actually could fit more people in here, but…" He shook his head. "Would you like some help?"

"Ah, yes, please," said the girl, bringing her trunk into the compartment, where Harry and Anthony seized and stowed it. Shaking her head, Tracey sat down, patting the seat next to her, which the redhead took.

"So, as I was saying, I'm Tracey Davis."

"Anthony Goldstein," said the blond, sitting down with Harry opposite the two girls.

"I'm Susan Bones," said the redhead. As the three glanced at Harry, he threw a quick glance at the compartment door and, seeing no one else, introduced himself properly to the others.

"I'm Harry Potter."

These three simple words earned him three looks of shock, mixed with varying degrees of awe, disbelief and excitement. Looking back however many years later, Harry would never stop appreciating this precise moment of his life.

Author's Notes: There we have it. No points for guessing the identities of the characters Harry briefly crossed paths with in Diagon Alley.

After reading the full series, I always wondered to myself what things would be like if Petunia had attempted to reconcile with Lily's memory by taking proper care of Harry. Of course, in this interpretation, Petunia is also making an effort to raise Harry to sort of replace Lily. We'll see where all of this goes.

Anyways, this chapter really is like compressing the first several chapters of Book One down to a single 6800-odd-word chapter. Harry still went to Diagon Alley for his birthday, but they got there a bit earlier and Hagrid (perhaps because of Petunia's presence) had enough tact to keep Harry somewhat "hidden." Some lines are lifted near-directly from the book (primarily Ollivander's lines). And then, of course, for the ending. I did not originally intend for Harry to meet Cedric at this point, but it just sort of happened as I was writing that particular part. However, Harry meeting Tracey, Susan and Anthony was planned before I started really writing this a few weeks back. I chose Susan because I liked her, Anthony because the Ravenclaws in general are under-characterised so I opted for the male option that didn't rhyme with Harry (Terry Boot) and Tracey because of the known Slytherin first years we have the least information about her, but unlike Daphne she's not confirmed to be part of Pansy's gang (and no, there's no information indicating Tracey and Daphne are friends, that's pure fanon, like most everything about them). The fact that all of them are half-bloods, like Harry, works out quite well for my plans but only actually factored into picking Tracey over Daphne, as the other two (especially Susan) were more of a pleasant surprise.

With that lengthy note out, I ask everyone to review and tell me what you think! Personally, I really enjoyed this and I hope you all will as well. I'm interested in hearing your thoughts, provided they're not idiotic flame/hate "reviews."

Hope to see you soon! And now for my promised rant:

I hold a certain distaste for the movies, primarily the final one, and that distaste often extends to those who base their info too much on the movies while barely glancing at the books. I'll get to my big reason for hating the final movie in a moment.

The most important order of business is my pure hatred for Dumbledore- and Weasley-bashing. The way half the fanfiction writers go on, the Weasley family are more evil and pure-blood supremacist than the Malfoys and Dumbledore is the real villain rather than Voldemort. Because, you know, obviously Dumbledore is a Pure-Blood Supremacist, seeing as he's a half-blood and all. Obviously he's raising Harry to be a weapon against Voldemort and doesn't care at all for his safety, that's why he took a gamble to protect Harry and tried to give Harry a normal childhood rather than tell a kid who had precious little happiness that he had to defeat perhaps the most vile dark lord of all time. Obviously Dumbledore was constantly risking Harry's life and tormenting Harry for his own personal gains, that's why he kept running from positions of too much power and took great risks to protect Harry when he could. I will, however, concede that he could've prevented the final events of Book One with a bit more effort.

On a less furious note, I also can't help but object to the constant "Snape is a horrible teacher!" rants, because given how well Harry, Neville and Ron apparently did without him breathing down their throats, they were obviously learning something (I will admit though that I did prefer the movies' "stern teacher" image over "bully teacher"). On a halfway related note, I also loathe the number of fics that present Magical Britain as incredibly backwards compared to the rest of the Magical World, as it has long since become apparent to me that this is almost always little more than an excuse to make a different magical country (almost always France due to Fleur) into basically their ideal Magical Country.

Finally, I hold a special place in my heart for my hatred of the "Harry becomes serious/gets extra magical training to become a badass!" sub-genre of fics. These often go out of their way to obsessively have Harry be "prepared" to face Voldemort so that he has enough power to defeat his arch-enemy, kind of like what happened in the movie. So, you know, ignore the real secret to Voldemort's defeat in favor of... apparently thinking just like Voldemort where "power is all that matters." Um, wow, yeah, since this is a great idea. That's how it should really be, none of this silly Power of Love nonsense. Lily's sacrifice couldn't have been enough, she must have used a ritual powered by her sacrifice! The great and terrible magic of Love that scars Voldemort who has literally made himself something less than human, twisted and evil, is obviously worthless without something like that!

Bull. FUCKING. Shit.

One of the core themes of the series was the power of love and friendship and their triumph over evil. You want to take a more cynical view of things, fine, there's plenty of fandoms where that's done, there's no need to completely destroy the message of love and hope inherent to the Harry Potter series because you don't like the idealism.

Away from things I so utterly hate, my final bit on my shipping preferences: I do not specifically mind Ginny as Harry's love interest per se as much as I hate the lack of development. There were maybe two hints of it before hand, in the same book, then suddenly we're being bludgeoned over the head with Harry's utter obsession with Ginny. Similarly, Hermione's crush on Ron really came out of nowhere, with the only clues beforehand being the pre-troll comment in Book One (which doesn't really hint at anything because that would crush anyone in Hermione's position without needing a crush) and the whole Yule Ball incident. Now, maybe it's just that Harry is the focus POV, but it still comes out of nowhere.

What's especially troubling about it is just how unexplored the ship-tease between Harry and Hermione is. Friendship in Books One and Two, as it should be at their age, but in Book Three there were some early hints (and no, I'm not talking about the hippogryph ride, though that certainly couldn't hurt), and then Book Four put out the possibility of it, the two spent more time together, Harry was at least somewhat flustered by her at the Yule Ball, and a definite dedication to Harry (also, that kiss on the cheek, which received enough attention in the book to put out the possibility). Book Five was also filled with tiny snippets teasing the two and also introduced Luna, who was hardly lacking in that department herself. Then Book Six came and they're almost arbitrarily paired off with Ron and Ginny. It's all kinds of disappointing for me because Ginny's changed entirely off-screen, feels too much like a designated love interest due to how she came through, and you'd think a series where love is a more important theme than friendship would try to at least give that theme the same amount of "screen time."

My favoritism towards Luna, in this regard, ties heavily to her seeming to have a lot of chemistry with Harry. Not sure why I feel that way, but I really do.

Anyways, that's done. Sorry for the ranting, but this has been building for weeks and I really needed to get it out. Thanks for bearing with me.