"Boy, get off the damned roof and come help your aunt with breakfast!"
Harry Potter sighed and reluctantly turned his gaze away from the sunrise and crawled through the open window and into his bedroom. He didn't know why, but he always liked to see the sun rise in the morning and look at the stars at night. He guessed it was probably because he was a bit of a dreamer. It wasn't that he thought he deserved anything better than the life he currently lived, Harry just thought that there was more out there for him than a row of identical houses with neatly manicured lawns.
People would think he was crazy if he ever admitted it out loud, but he swore he'd once seen a dragon flying high in the sky. That was the type of thing Harry longed for—things that couldn't be readily explained. In truth, he was a part of the things that couldn't be explained. For one thing, he could have a full conversation with a snake, but that was the least of his problems. He constantly did things that simply shouldn't be possible.
"Boy, I won't ask you again!"
"I'm coming Uncle Vernon", Harry called and quickly put on a pair of trousers and t-shirt. As he silently sprinted down the stairs, Harry tried to tame his messy hair, but the act had more to do with telling his relatives the truth if they asked him if he'd tried. He'd long since accepted the fact that his hair was a lost cause and wouldn't have even bothered with it if it weren't for his relative's insistence on normalness.
"Good morning", Harry said brightly as he entered the kitchen. His uncle grunted behind the newspaper and that more or less meant 'it had been a good morning until Harry came along'. The ten-year-old boy paid it no mind and began helping Aunt Petunia with breakfast. Despite it being somewhat girly, Harry found cooking to be quite fascinating in the respect that, when separated, the ingredients were nothing too special, but when combined just the right way they could make something truly delicious, like cake. Harry loved cake, but he also loved quite a lot of things.
When he was seven, his schoolteacher had recommended to Aunt Petunia that Harry needed to go see a doctor because she was certain he had some form of ADD. When they'd arrived home, Harry had gotten out the encyclopedia and quickly decided he did not, in fact, have any type of attention disorder. He was truly fascinated by everything, whether it was big or small, and generally could not be disturbed when he was in the middle of an enlightening discovery. His focus, however, was second to none and he rarely forgot anything he read or learned. In his humble opinion, he thought his teacher ought to have been teaching him something new and challenging rather than repeating what they had learned the year before just for the benefit of the slow kids.
"Mail's here!" Harry said suddenly upon hearing the click of the mail slot. He was already halfway out of his chair before Uncle Vernon was able to look up and already in the entryway before his uncle could think of a reply.
"Don't know why you're so excited about the mail, boy", he shouted. "You won't be going anywhere but Stonewall High".
"We'll see about that", Harry muttered darkly as he hurried towards the door. It was now a long shot, but Harry still held out hope that he would be accepted into a secondary school in the fall instead of being forced to go to public school. There wasn't anything wrong with public school, but Harry's quest to get out of Little Whinging would start much sooner if accepted into a secondary school. He'd also need a scholarship since the Dursleys had made it abundantly clear that they would not pay for any of his needs except the absolute essentials. Harry had relentlessly argued that his education was most essential, but in the Dursleys minds, the essentials were secondhand clothes bought from the thrift store, a meager portion of food and a small, sparsely decorated bedroom he was graciously allowed to sleep in.
Harry picked up three letters, discovered the first was a bill, and paid it no mind. The second was a letter from Vernon's sister, Marge, and he was mightily tempted to wad it up then throw it in the bin, but he knew questions would be asked and he'd easily be implicated. Regretfully, Harry put the second letter behind the first. The third was a letter addressed to him, but it took a moment to register. When he finally realized what he held in hand, his heart leapt mightily because he was very sure that this letter was the solution he had been waiting for. Despite his thoughts, Harry still couldn't believe it. He'd never even received a letter before in his life and if his assumption was true then this was certainly one he would remember for the rest of his life.
Walking into the kitchen, Harry passed Uncle Vernon and set the other two letters down before taking a seat at the table again.
"Dad!" shouted Dudley suddenly. "Harry's got a letter!" The boy in question was just about to rip it open, but decided to look up. Not a moment later did Vernon try to snatch it out of Harry's hand, but he was far too quick for the fat man. What he didn't expect, however, was to be smacked across the shoulder by Dudley's smelting stick as he tried to get out of his chair. The force of the blow sent him to the ground and luckily, he landed on his elbow instead of his head, but since his elbow had not been tucked in to his ribs, his elbow slammed into the side of his stomach, causing Harry to suddenly gasp for breath, his side howling in pain. Unintentionally, he lost his grip on the letter.
"Hah!" Vernon victoriously exclaimed after bending down and snatching the letter from the floor. Out of breath, Harry found he could hardly move. His eyes were trained solely on the letter and he did not miss Vernon's face suddenly pale upon glancing at it.
"P-Petunia", he gasped. Dudley tried to grab the letter from his father, but Vernon quickly held it up out of his reach before handing it to Petunia. Her reaction was much the same; her face paled upon reading the first few words and she looked as though she might faint.
"Vernon! Oh my goodness! Vernon!"
They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten Harry or Dudley was in the room. Harry still did not fully have his breath back, but now more than ever he wanted to see what that letter said. He couldn't understand their reactions to what should have been a common acceptance letter and forced himself to his feet.
"That's my letter", he said, his voice unsteady. "Give it to me".
"Get out, both of you", croaked Vernon, stuffing the letter back into its envelope.
"No!" Harry protested as he felt something familiar stir deep within him and suddenly he could breathe again. "That's my letter! I want it now!" In reply, Vernon and Petunia glanced at each other, their eyes wide in fright. "NOW!" Harry was surprised he'd shouted at his relatives, having done so only once before, but he'd do anything to have that letter. He felt that familiar something begging to be released once again and he momentarily panicked, knowing he did not have full control of his emotions, but instead of suppressing the feeling like he'd learned to, Harry latched on to it with all his might and released it all at once.
A strong gale of wind came out of nowhere. It displaced half the things in the kitchen and Harry's ears immediately began ringing from the sounds of everything being thrown this way and that, but Harry paid it no mind. His focus was solely on the letter. It streaked out of Petunia's startled hands and into Harry's own, and before they knew what had occurred, the ten-year-old boy was already sprinting out the front door.
"BOY GET BACK HERE!"
Even if a car had hit him, Harry was sure he wouldn't have stopped. He ran as if his life depended on it and didn't even stop when his eyes settled on the tall oak tree in the park that he loved to climb. Instead of stopping in front of it, Harry sprinted up the tree as far as he was able and used his remaining momentum to grab a hold of the strong branch. He pulled himself up and quickly settled in before ripping the letter open. He read:
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
For a frightening moment, Harry felt tears fill his eyes, becoming quite sure it was an elaborate prank played on him by the Dursleys. Then, as if something was telling him, he suddenly remembered what had just occurred in the kitchen. His mind then contemplated his ability to do things that shouldn't be possible and suddenly everything made sense. He was a wizard! Somehow, he was sure of it.
Harry wasn't even sure if he jumped or climbed down from the tree. Either way, an instant later he was sprinting back towards Privet Drive, an endless amount of questions suddenly filling his mind. When he skidded to a halt in front of the front door, however, every single question fled from a sudden realization and Harry entered the house angrier than he had ever been in his life.
"YOU KNEW!" he shouted and slammed the door as hard as he could. The full-length mirror and several candles fell to the floor and shattered upon impact.
"BOY!" Uncle Vernon shouted and quickly entered the hallway. "You won't be going and that is final!"
"I will too!" Harry argued very sure of himself. He fearlessly stared up at Uncle Vernon despite the fact that the fat man easily outweighed him four times over. When he was six years old, Harry had learned that the fat man was all bark and no bite, and had used that knowledge to bribe his relatives into giving him his own bedroom as well as more food and secondhand clothes.
"And who'll pay for you to learn this nonsense, boy?" Vernon asked with a malicious grin. "We certainly won't. You can take that to the bank!"
Harry briefly panicked, but recovered quickly and said, "I don't care. I'll find a way to pay for my schooling on my own!"
"No", Aunt Petunia intervened. "We swore when we took you in we'd put a stop to all this nonsense! You'll be going to Stonewall High and you'll be grateful for it".
"I won't", Harry refused to believe otherwise and then his eyes suddenly widened, upon remembering what had angered him in the first place. "You knew I was a wizard!"
Petunia's face twisted in rage at the sound of the last word. She shrieked, "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that-that school-and came home every holiday with tales of such utter nonsense! I was the only one who ever saw her for what she was - a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"
"My Mum", Harry whispered in surprise, "she was a witch?"
"Yes and then she met that Potter boy at that dratted school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as - as - abnormal - and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"
"BLOWN UP?!" Harry shouted and it was followed by the sound of more glass candles shattering to pieces. "You said…you said...my parents died in a car crash!"
Petunia laughed hysterically with tears streaking down her cheeks and nastily said, "They were murdered!"
Harry tried to respond, but suddenly he couldn't breathe. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but nothing would come out. Then, his eyes began to fill with tears and he did the only thing he could think of. He fled. Harry sprinted up the stairs, slammed the door to his bedroom, and then dove on his bed. Not a moment later, he sobbed into his pillow and it was some time later before the tears finally waned. He slowly sat up and wiped his face several times with the sheet. He wanted to go back downstairs and ask Aunt Petunia the questions he hadn't been able to, but for the first time in his life he honestly did not want to know the answers. The thought of his parents being murdered was something he couldn't grasp nor was he really willing to. A car crash had been one thing, but murder. He shivered in fear at the thought.
Another wave of tears threatened to fall just at the thought of his parent's murder, but thankfully he was interrupted at that exact moment. A soft tapping on the window caused Harry to glance to the left. A brown owl was sitting on the window ledge, staring straight at him. Remembering something, Harry checked the Hogwarts letter and sure enough, it mentioned that they awaited his owl by no later than his birthday.
"How odd", Harry whispered and slowly opened the window, all the while a bit wary of the owl and its ability to deliver a letter. He jumped out of the way when the owl flew into the room. The ten year old followed its path until it landed on the dresser. It stared at him expectantly and almost looked rather bored. "Can you really deliver a letter?" In reply, the owl simply stared at Harry as if he was an idiot then hooted, and that mostly settled it for Harry, but he was still very much wary of it. "Okay then, just let me write it".
The owl hooted in reply and Harry quickly set to work. He was excited again and he literally had to force himself not to ask any more questions than necessary. The letter read:
Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall,
I would like to attend Hogwarts, but I think you ought to know I don't have any money and my relatives refuse to pay a pound towards my education. Are there any scholarships? If so, I'd appreciate it if you sent me an application. If there are not then I must decline your invitation. Either way, I await your response.
Sincerely,
Harry Potter
He stared at the letter, wishing he could ask at least two pages worth of questions, but the answers wouldn't matter if he couldn't go to Hogwarts so he only asked what was necessary and prayed for the best. Staring at the owl, Harry wondered how in the world was it supposed to deliver a letter. There was a piece of string tied to one of its claws and after a moment of thought Harry decided it was the most logical way for a letter to be carried by an owl.
With shaky hands, Harry slowly undid the piece of string. When the owl did not make a move to peck his hands any fear he had suddenly vanished. After a bit of frustration, Harry finally secured the letter to the owl. It shook its leg, determined the letter was, in fact, secure and took to the skies again. The ten year old boy watched it go, all the while wondering how long would it take for a response, if there even was one. To pass the time, Harry busied himself by cleaning his room. Normally, he wouldn't have done such a thing, preferring his room to be a bit messy rather than spotlessly clean, but he didn't want to go downstairs only to confront the Dursleys again.
He briefly thought of reading a book, but somehow they all seemed so boring. Reading about magic, he decided, would be much more enjoyable. He figured there must be books since they had a school and as he piled up the dirty clothes on the floor, he wondered what they would teach. He figured they would teach him how to control his magic although he somewhat already had a good grasp of it. At age seven, he'd begun to understand that every time he lost control of his emotions something odd would happen and two years later he'd been able to control his emotion enough to control those familiar stirrings deep within him, until today of course.
When Harry's room was almost absurdly spotless, he heard the sound of the doorbell. He froze, and his emerald green eyes widened in surprise. During the seconds that passed, Harry listened to the sounds of the quiet house as he stared out the window, once again checking to see if the owl was on its way back. The doorbell rang a second time and someone knocked on the door rather firmly. Harry's eyes widened even further, knowing full well that Aunt Petunia would never make someone wait outside that long unless she wasn't there.
Hesitantly, Harry poked his head out of the doorway to his bedroom then he slowly tiptoed to the top landing of the stairs. There were no sounds in the house at all and he suddenly sprinted down them, not caring how much noise he made. Skidding to a halt, Harry abruptly opened the door and stared up at a tall and lanky elderly man with a snow-white beard that halted at his waist. Even though he had never seen a wizard before in his life, Harry was certain this old man was one. If for no other reason, Harry decided only magic could keep someone alive that looked as old as this man did.
"Hello…Harry Potter", he said with a sincere smile and very kind blue eyes. Harry did not know why, but he immediately knew this was a man who could be trusted and he found himself hesitantly returning the smile. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am Albus Dumbledore, the…"
"The Headmaster of Hogwarts?" Harry asked quickly, resisting the urge to smile at the thought that he had been correct in thinking the old man was a wizard.
"Indeed", the old man replied, his soul-piercing blue eyes sparkling in amusement. "May I come in?"
"Yes sir", Harry replied and quickly opened the door wider. The old man entered the house and without being directed, took a left and entered the sitting room. He sat on Uncle Vernon's comfy chair while Harry sat next to him on the edge of the sofa, wondering where he ought to start.
"I didn't know someone would come that fast, sir", Harry casually mentioned. "Is Hogwarts nearby?"
"It's actually in northern Scotland", he answered, looking at Harry square in the eyes. "The delivery owls we use are obviously much faster than a regular owl".
"Oh", Harry said, suddenly remembering his lack of money. "Sir, about the scholarship…"
"Never mind that, Harry", he said and quickly dug in his pocket. He took out a tiny, gold key and handed it to the ten-year-old boy. "This belongs to you".
Harry inspected it, finding the key to be quite intricate and it looked almost brand new. He asked, "What does it go to, sir?"
"That key will open your trust vault in Gringotts, which is a magical bank in London", he answered. "Until you become of age, you will receive a five hundred galleon yearly stipend on your birthday, which will automatically be deposited into your trust vault. Your tuition, you should know, was paid for in full shortly after your birth".
"Oh, I see", Harry said, briefly looking up at the ceiling of the room and thanking his parent's foresight profusely. As overtly as possible, he wiped away the lone tear of relief streaming down his cheek. "How…um…how do you know all this, sir…about the allowance and the vault, I mean. You're just the Headmaster of Hogwarts, aren't you?"
"I am, among many other titles", he answered honestly and now that he mentioned it, Harry did recall seeing a bunch of titles after the Headmaster's name. "I knew your parents quite well, both when they were in Hogwarts and out. When they drew up their will a little more than ten years ago, they asked if I would be the executor. That means…"
"I know what it means", Harry interrupted. "You carried it out".
"Precisely", Dumbledore answered with a nod.
"That means", Harry said, clenching his fists as his voice becoming unsteady in anger, "you left me here".
"I do not deny that, Harry, but allow me to explain my reasoning", replied Dumbledore, giving Harry a bit of stern look. "I did not wish to place you here, but under the circumstances it was the safest place for you".
"Safe?" Harry asked almost hysterically. "They hate me!"
"The Dursleys would have never taken you in had they truly hated you, Harry", the Headmaster replied calmly. "No, they have never loved you as their own, but you could be in a far worse situation".
"How so?" Harry asked skeptically, his voice rising in anger. "Surely, my parents had friends or my dad had some distant family".
"The Dursleys are the only family you have left", Dumbledore replied and then sighed warily. "As for your parent's friends, to this day there isn't one of them who are able to care for you". Harry opened his mouth to reply to that, but Dumbledore raised his hand and continued, "The last I heard of your mother's best friend, Mary Macdonald, was that she fled the country roughly a month before your parents were murdered. Your father had three friends he was very close to in school. Sirius Black, who I might add is your godfather, killed one of the three friends after betraying your parent's location to a dark wizard and is currently serving multiple life sentences in a magical prison called Azkaban. The other friend, Remus Lupin, could not care for you even if he was able. Moreover, the Longbottoms, who were close family friends, were attacked shortly after your parents were. Tell me, Harry, where should I have placed you if not here?"
"There must have been someone who would have taken me in", Harry said, but he was starting to see this was not an argument he was going to win.
"Oh, there were plenty of people who would have given life and limb in order to adopt you", Dumbledore revealed, "but they did not truly want you. What they wanted was a piece of your fame".
"Fame?" Harry asked incredulously. "I'm not famous, sir".
"No, in this world you are not, which is another reason why I placed you here, but we'll get back to that in a minute", replied Dumbledore. "In the Magical World you became one of the most famous wizards overnight. Didn't you ever wonder where you got that scar on your forehead?"
"My aunt and uncle said…" Harry stopped upon realizing that he couldn't have gotten the scar from the car crash since it had not happened. Not willing to admit how much he did not know, Harry took a bit of a wild guess. "They said I got it on the night my parents died".
"While that is certainly true, I do not believe you know the full story of how they died, do you?"
"I…I know they were murdered and that's all I want to know", pleaded Harry as tears came to his eyes.
"No, if I were in your shoes, I do not think I would want to know exactly how my parents were murdered either, but the moment you enter the Magical World people will ask you questions about that night and of your parents", he explained softly. "It is far better if you learn what happened from me than from a stranger on the street or one of your future classmates who only knows the rumors and secondhand gossip".
"Okay", Harry agreed, his voice discernibly small.
"The Magical World had been at war for almost ten years", began Dumbledore after closing his eyes for a long moment. "A dark wizard by the name of Tom Riddle led the uprising, but the history books never refer to him by his given name. To be honest, there are very few that know his origins. He called himself Lord Voldemort, however to this day most of the population still refers to him as You-Know-Who simply because they are so frightened of him that they can't even say his name. There were good reasons to be frightened of him, Harry. It did not matter if you were a man, woman or even a young child, Voldemort would kill just because he was able. Many witches and wizards joined his cause although their reasons were entirely different. Some joined simply because they wanted a piece of the power he was gaining. Others were sympathetic towards his beliefs while there were some who joined simply because they were so frightened of what he would do to their families if it ever came to that. The times were the darkest I have ever seen in my one hundred years and I have seen a total of three dark wizards rise, but none were as terrible as Voldemort. In fact, many historians agree that he was the darkest wizard of all-time".
"How was he stopped?" Harry asked unable to help himself.
"You'll know in just a few minutes", Dumbledore answered, "but there is still a bit more background information you need in order to fully understand the ramifications". He paused and thought for a minute then continued, "As soon as Voldemort began his reign of terror, I naturally fought him, but I was not alone in the fight. I founded a secret organization called the Order of the Phoenix. Our ultimate goal, of course, was to see the downfall of Voldemort and all of his followers, who were called Death Eaters. Most of the members were well placed in our society and quite powerful in their own right. Many on our side, I am sad to say, lost their lives to the cause, but they knew what was at stake. They fought anyway because they wanted their children to grow up in a better world than they had grown up in.
"I recruited your mum and dad right after they graduated Hogwarts. They were the Head Boy and Girl and were the top students in their year in multiple subjects. Even before they graduated, I knew I was going to recruit them. In the spring of their seventh year, they confronted Voldemort for the first time and both immediately rebuked his offer of joining the Death Eaters. You must understand, Harry, that when a person declined Voldemort they almost immediately wound up dead. Surviving that duel was a miracle in itself, but it also shows just how powerful they were together.
"A few years passed and during that time your parents left Hogwarts, married and had you. At one point, it became apparent that Voldemort was after them and they went into hiding, using numerous safe houses to throw Voldemort off their trail, but even then, he was never far behind them. It eventually became obvious that someone very close to your parents was a traitor and I was at a loss as to what to do. Despite my suspicions, I could not sacrifice all I believe in and interrogate someone without undeniable proof. I did, however, voice my reservations to a very old friend of mine and we also discussed your parent's situation. He was reminded of an ancient spell that had long since been forgotten. It's called the Fidelius Charm and, in essence, it is an immensely complex spell involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find - unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it.
"It was the perfect solution to an otherwise impossible situation. As long as the Secret-Keeper refused to divulge the secret, Voldemort could have stood mere inches from your parent's home and would have not known they were even there. Naturally, given my suspicions of a traitor in our midst, I offered to be their Secret-Keeper several times, but your father insisted on using Sirius Black, saying Black would rather die than give up their location. In the end, there was nothing I could do and a week later Lord Voldemort showed up outside Godric's Hollow".
At this, Dumbledore paused and sighed, staring at Harry with tears in his eyes. "Your father met him at the door and judging from the spells he had used, it was quite a duel. Sadly, James was not able to overcome Voldemort, and as you know, he did not live". Dumbledore paused again, giving Harry a moment to wipe his eyes, and then he continued. "Your mother, I believe, searched for an escape route, but all avenues of escape had been sealed by Voldemort. What I mean by that is all the windows and doors had been sealed by powerful magic and all means of magical transportation had been disabled. In essence, you and your mother were trapped inside the house and there was nothing she could have done about it since the only means of escape was going past Voldemort and escaping through the front door.
"I'll not lie to you and say I know exactly what happened when Voldemort found you and your mother in your nursery, but what I can say with one hundred percent confidence is that your mother chose not to engage Voldemort in a duel. Based on what happened, I believe her only concern was your safety and she tried to reason with him, but Voldemort has never been one to see reason. He used an illegal spell aptly named the Killing Curse. Until that night, no one had ever survived that curse and I truly believe no one else ever will. When your mother was out of the way, Voldemort turned his wand to you and…"
"He tried to kill me?" Harry asked, his eyes wide.
"Yes, Harry, he did", Dumbledore answered, "and as I mentioned before, you would not have been the first child he killed. However, you did not die, and that is because he encountered something he has never understood".
"What?" Harry asked unable to help it.
"Love", answered Dumbledore simply and Harry must not have hidden his disappointment as quickly as he thought he did. "Yes, Harry, it was love that saved you that night. I know it's not as dazzling as you had thought, but I will say this much about love. There is no greater force in the universe than love and it was surely proven on that night. Your mother, although I am sure she did not know it at the time, sacrificed herself for you, and in doing so, invoked the most powerful kind of protection you could have been afforded. You see, Harry, love as deeply as that of your mother's sacrifice leaves a mark…no, not a scar or a visible sign. It is ingrained in your very soul. To put it simply, when Voldemort tried to cast the Killing Curse on you, the protection you were given created a shield of sorts. You could not be touched, not by something as evil as Voldemort, and so the Killing Curse rebounded off of you and defeated Lord Voldemort".
"He…he's dead?" Harry asked in a small voice.
"Sadly, he is not", answered Dumbledore solemnly. "Voldemort's greatest fear is death and he must have found a way to circumvent it, but even I, with as much knowledge as I have accumulated over the years, am at a loss as to how exactly he achieved immortality. Alas, he is neither dead nor truly alive. I believe he is a shell of his former self, his powers temporarily vanquished. That, Harry, is why you are famous. You are the only person to ever survive the Killing Curse and you were unscathed except for that scar on your forehead".
"How exactly did I get my scar, sir?" Harry asked briefly running his hand over his scar. He'd always thought it must have been a freak accident for him to have such an odd-shaped scar.
Dumbledore stared at Harry for a long moment before answering, "When the Killing Curse rebounded off of you and hit Voldemort, some of Voldemort's powers were transferred to you".
"W-what do you mean?" Harry asked nervously.
"You can talk to snakes", Dumbledore said. "So could Voldemort".
"What else did he transfer?" Harry asked, feeling a bit queasy. "I'm not going to be a dark wizard like him, am I?"
"It is our choices that makes us who we are, Harry", Dumbledore said after a long moment where he gazed intensely into Harry's eyes. "Just because you inherited some of Voldemort's powers does not mean you will go dark. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir", Harry answered and silence filled the room before the ten-year-old boy suddenly thought of something. "Sir, how did you know I can talk to snakes?"
"I hope you do not think I have left you alone for all of these years", Dumbledore said. "I've had someone watch over you ever since I brought you here. I myself have watched you from afar".
"You have?" asked Harry, not sure how he felt about that.
"Indeed I have", Dumbledore confirmed. "I watched as you discovered your magic and finally gain control of it. Unlike Voldemort, you did not terrorize anyone although you very well could have and many would say you would have been justified to do so".
"I don't want to hurt anyone".
"Alas, another difference between you and Voldemort", concluded Dumbledore with a smile. "But back to the original question, how are you safe here. Before I left you with your relatives, I invoked powerful magical of my own on you and this house. Again, I shall say Voldemort has never understood love and therefore underestimates its power. I used this knowledge to your advantage even though I knew you were in for ten difficult years. You see, Harry, while you can still call home the place your mother's blood resides, you cannot be touched nor harmed by Voldemort or his followers. I, more than anyone, knew that Voldemort was not defeated and would be back. When? I still do not know. I did know what his followers would have done to you had they found you. I know this will sound cold, but your safety meant more to me than your happiness. You can hate me if you want to, but at least you are able".
After several moments passed, Harry realized the Headmaster was finally finished. He stared at him as he processed all the information he had been given. It was a lot to take in all at once, but he was not overwhelmed.
"I understand, sir", Harry finally said although he did not agree with the Headmaster's methods. Given all that he heard and assuming it was the truth, Harry decided, as much as he disagreed, that he would have done the same thing.
"I am glad you do", Dumbledore said with a nod. "Now, I am sure you have many questions concerning Hogwarts".
"Yes sir", Harry said quickly, his excitement building. "This is isn't really about Hogwarts, but…what is magic exactly?"
The old man stared at Harry for a long moment, his eyes flashing in amusement. "Magic is indefinable…it is innate…it is ingrained in our very souls".
Harry wrinkled his nose, not liking that vague answer one bit. He asked, "But how do I have magic and not my cousin?"
"You inherited it from your mother and father".
"But my mum is Petunia's sister", Harry argued.
"Yes, she is, but you either have it or you don't", Dumbledore said and Harry was about to argue further. "You either have it or you don't, Harry. As I said before, it is ingrained in our very souls". Harry still did not like that answer, but decided to move on, knowing the answer to his question was just lying there somewhere waiting for him.
"Alright, I inherited magic from my mum and dad. Does that mean everyone else does too?"
"For the most part, yes", Dumbledore replied after a moment. "Roughly seventy-five percent of the students in your year will have at least one magical parent, if not two. Some can trace their family tree back more than a thousand years. Your father's family, for instance, can be traced past Ignotius Peverell, who died in the late 1200s. Now your mother's family, on the other hand, has no direct ties to the magical world. As I've said before, you either have magic or you don't. Twenty-five percent of the students in your year will be students who did not know they were a witch or wizard before they received their letter".
"Will…um…they be behind?" Harry asked, deciding not to mention the fact that he felt like one of them even though his mum and dad were magical.
"You would think so, but the answer is no. Every student entering Hogwarts starts on equal footing though I shall admit that the students who have never known magic will have to adjust to the culture of the magical world" Dumbledore finished, staring at Harry squarely in the eyes. "There is an adjustment period, but if you are anything like your mother you will catch on quickly and become one of the top students in your year. She would not have been named Head Girl had she not been".
"How is everyone on equal footing though?" Harry asked. "I mean, if I was raised by my mum and dad I'm sure I'd know loads of things".
"You undoubtedly would, but you would have no way of practicing the spells you learned", explained Dumbledore, causing Harry to frown. "Once a witch or wizard receives their Hogwarts acceptance letter, they are then able to obtain a wand. Until then, strictly speaking, they aren't allowed to perform magic with a wand".
"A wand?" Harry asked, a bit confused. "I thought…you know…" Harry decided against finishing his sentence with words. Instead, he took a moment to find his center then lifted his hand and the coffee table separating the two lifted in the air until it was at eye level before he gently set it back down.
The old man's eyes were gleaming in amusement as he said, "You will find that there aren't many in our world that can perform magic without a wand. We have grown too reliant on them simply because it is far easier to use magic with them rather than without. Those that are able have always started at an early age. As they become older and more attuned to their wands, they slowly lose the ability, mostly through lack of practice. I myself am now limited to cheap parlor tricks". Dumbledore paused and flicked his finger, causing all the candles in the room to instantly light. He made a sweeping motion and they all went out at once. "As a word of advice, I recommend practicing your magic without a wand for a few minutes each night. On weekends, I would recommend trying some of the spells you learned in Charms class without a wand. Those and earth-based spells are primarily the only ones you will be able to perform without a wand. You may try, of course, but I would not even bother with Defense Against the Dark Arts or Transfiguration".
Harry was a bit confused upon hearing the names of a few of his classes. Defense Against the Dark Arts seemed quite literal, but he didn't have much of a clue on the other two.
"Charms? Transfiguration?"
"Ah, you'll have to excuse me, Harry", Dumbledore said apologetically. "It has been roughly fifty years since I made a house call to a new student. I'd forgotten you don't know anything about our world. On a side note, I would appreciate it if you don't mention it was I who introduced you to the magical world. Some would think the act shows favoritism when, in truth, I am mainly here to perform my duties as executor to your parent's will". Harry nodded in understanding. "Now then, on to your question…Charms and Transfiguration. A charm, to put it simply, is a magical spell that causes an object to act in an uncharacteristic way when it otherwise wouldn't. For example, what you just did with the coffee table is known as a Levitation Charm. The spell your parents used to hide from Voldemort is the Fidelius Charm. It caused their house to disappear from everyone who did not know the secret".
Harry nodded in understanding again and the Headmaster continued, "Transfiguration is widely considered the most complex branch of magic, but I shall say I am a bit biased as it was my former subject. By definition, Transfiguration is the act of transforming one thing into something else entirely. The object can be transformed from something animate to something inanimate, and vice versa, but I shall say no more on the subject for fear of being scolded by our esteemed Transfiguration Professor". Harry cracked a smile at the obvious attempt at humor. "Now then, do you have any other questions?"
"I…I don't even know where to get a wand, sir".
"Ah, no, I guess you wouldn't", Dumbledore said as he glanced at his watch. "Tomorrow morning there will be an orientation for the students new to magic. May I deduce you will not have any means of travelling to London?" Harry nodded, looking a bit upset. "Not to worry, Harry, I shall have one of your professors pick you up at eight if it is agreeable to you".
"It is, sir", Harry answered confidently. A part of him was worried that the Dursleys wouldn't allow him to go, but today he'd made the decision that the Dursleys would no longer have any say in his life other than providing him food and shelter when he wasn't at Hogwarts.
"Very well", Dumbledore said and slowly stood up from the recliner. "Then I shall take my leave". They shook hands and Harry led him to the front door. Dumbledore opened it and suddenly stopped in the middle of the threshold. "I shall see you September the first, Harry, and I must say it was quite delightful to meet you. Be ready at eight tomorrow morning and don't forget the key to your vault or the supply list".
"Supply list?" Harry asked, face paling.
"I think, in your haste to reply, you overlooked the second sheet of parchment in your acceptance letter", Dumbledore said, looking mightily amused. "I believe it is self-explanatory. If not, any questions you may have will surely be answered tomorrow".
"Yes sir", Harry said. The headmaster nodded, and with a twinkle in his eye, suddenly disappeared before Harry's eyes. The ten year old gaped at the spot where the old man had been. "Can't wait to do that", he muttered, grinning widely. Harry shook his head in amusement and shut the door before promptly sprinting up the stairs. He spent the rest of the day devouring the supply list. Most items were indeed self-explanatory, but there was one underlying question. Where in London could he possibly buy all this?