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Something Worth Smiling For
Harry James Potter could not remember any time in his life when he'd wanted to smile. Though sometimes when he was dreaming he'd see a beautiful young woman with long, red hair, startlingly green eyes, and a smile full of love that seemed to be just for him.
He'd been just a toddler when he'd gone to live with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. His cousin, Dudley, had apparently hated him from the start, and he'd learned quickly to take care of himself, knowing that if he didn't, no one would.
Harry had never thought of himself as special. He was slightly small for his age, wore glasses, was barely average in his studies, and he didn't even have any cool scars. He was just an ordinary boy that odd things happened to occasionally.
As Harry's eleventh birthday drew nearer, though, Harry felt almost as though there was an exciting change on the horizon, and it didn't feel as if it was just because he and Dudley would finally be going to different schools come September.
When the letter came, he first thought it was a joke. Witches and wizards and schools of magic were myths. Of course they were. If that were so, then why did he feel deep in his gut that it was true?
He could think back over the years at all the strange things that had happened around him, and it wasn't such a stretch that he'd caused them to happen. He read the letter ten times a day for a week straight. He read the list of required schoolbooks and wondered how he'd get them. He stared at the train ticket for hours, wondering how a platform 9 ¾ could possibly exist.
But, most of all, he kept the letter a secret from Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. Instinct told him that they wouldn't approve, nor would they allow him to go. But, getting there was only one of his biggest problems.
* * *
Harry couldn't believe his eyes. A witch, a real, live witch was sitting in the Dursley's pristine living room. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were sitting as well, their backs perfectly straight, tension in every part of them.
* * *
Diagon Alley was not something that could be imagined or explained, Harry thought. He could still hardly believe that he was there; shopping for magic books, potions ingredients, a wand, and various other items he would need in the magical world.
The mountains of money stashed away in the Potter family vault at Gringott's was yet another surprise. It made him wonder even more who his parents really were, but all he'd ever gotten out of Aunt Petunia was that they'd died in a car crash.
* * *
Harry wheeled his trolley toward the platform between 9 and 10. He'd asked the witch who'd come to the Dursley's about it, and she'd told him how to access the platform. He was a bit scared on the inside, but he pushed through the barrier hoping beyond hope that he'd make it through.
* * *
Walking through the train, Harry found a compartment about half full with kids who looked to be about his age. He poked his head in.
"Would it be all right if I sat in here with you?" he asked, only slightly hesitant. The process of making friends had always been hampered by Dudley's bullying interference.
"Yes, of course," a boy with dark blond hair said. "I'm Ernie, this is Hannah, Mandy, Terry, and Dean." He pointed at each of them as he said their name, though Harry thought he probably wouldn't be able to remember their names for a while.
"I'm Harry," he said as he moved into the compartment and sat next to the black boy he thought was Dean.
* * *
He stared up at the ceiling in the Great Hall like most of the other first years. He waited anxiously with them for his turn to try on the ragged old hat that would place him in one of the four houses.
Hannah had already been sorted into Hufflepuff, Mandy and Terry into Ravenclaw. Ernie's name was called, and he was sorted into Hufflepuff with Hannah. Harry wasn't sure where he wanted to go. He liked to think that he'd made friends with that group, but they'd already been separated.
Harry's name was finally called, and he stepped forward to the stool and pulled the hat onto his head. It didn't take long for the hat to call out, "Hufflepuff!"
* * *
His first year passed without much incident. He made friends, he worked hard and managed to get a fairly good grasp of his own magical ability. He struggled with Potions, but did very well in Charms.
For the first time in Harry's life, he felt like he was home. He couldn't remember smiling so much in his entire life.
A/N: It was fun imagining what Harry's life could have been if he hadn't been the Chosen One. I won't be continuing this, but I would love to hear what you all thought of it!