"Harry, Harry!" A horse-faced woman screeched. "We're going to be late. Wake up!" She said, rapping sharply on the door of the cupboard under the stairs. In her haste to leave, she did not hear the drawn out sigh of scrawny, eight year old Harry James Potter. The abused and supposed "troublemaker," that resided in Number 4 Private Drive.
Rolling out of bed, the black-haired boy quickly crammed broken, rounded glasses on his face as he stretched and began to dress. Knowing how his day was going to go, the boy's brilliant green eyes dimmed slightly behind his glasses. Grimacing, he opened the cupboard door and walked out.
"Ready, Aunt Petunia!" Harry called out, not expecting an answer. As he walked into the kitchen, he was shocked to say the least. A man in a wheelchair was arguing heatedly with Petunia Dursley, with a taller man quietly standing off to the side, his blue eyes twinkling madly behind half-moon spectacles.
"No! I refuse to have that freak go anywhere near that dratted school!" She shrieked. Hearing her insult him, once more drove a stab of hurt and anger into Harry's heart. In his fury, the shadows darkened slightly, curling around his feet. In that moment, the forks and spoons on the table began to tremble as well.
"I'm not a freak." Harry said, his voice filled with anger. Petunia just sneered at him.
"Yes you are. You're just like my cursed sister and her husband! Unnatural, that's what you are. To think, my parents, always adoring sweet, perfect Lily!" Harry began to retort, but was cut off by the guest.
"Ah, Harry, my boy! I've been expecting you. I'm Mr. Brunner." The stranger in the wheelchair said serenely. "We certainly must have a chat, dear child."
Harry just looked at him warily, all traces of fury gone. "Excuse me sir, but why exactly should I trust you?" He asked curiously. The man's expression quickly sobered.
He opened his mouth to speak, before closing it again. Harry quietly observed the troubled look on Mr. Brunner's face. Before he got a chance to speak, however, the other man jumped in.
"Hello Harry." The man greeted. "I am Albus Dumbledore. I'm afraid that Mr. Brunner and I have much to talk to you about. Mainly concerning your true parentage, which is currently of the utmost importance for you to learn, as we would like you to remain safe, Mr. Potter." He said cheerfully. "If we might all enjoy a nice talk in your sitting room?" Albus Dumbledore inquired, directing the question toward Petunia, who had remain silent after Mr. Brunner had spoken.
"I refuse to let a freak remain in my house." She hissed at the men before her. Dumbledore, however, took this all in stride, smiling lightly.
"Ah, yes. I thought it might come to this. But after careful correspondence between the two of us," he gestured to himself and Mr. Brunner, "we have found out that Harry is much more than we originally thought. As previously stated, we have found shocking information concerning his parentage."
After we speak, if Harry so wishes, he can take leave with us and continue his learning in a protected environment with other children like him. Until he gets his letter, that is. In that event, I would send a trusted person to collect him and bring him to get his supplies." He stated calmly.
"Now if we may speak?" Mr. Brunner more-or-less ordered. Harry and Petunia nodded numbly as they digested the information they had just received. They led the way to the sitting room, Harry sinking into the couch gratefully.
"Now normally you would learn this from your parents, or in the summer of your eleventh year, but considering some compromising information, you will learn it now. Please remain seated, as this may come as a shock to you. You are wizard, Harry." Dumbledore said gently, before continuing.
"As of recently, we have discovered that James Potter was not your father, however much you look the part, and however deeply the deceit was woven. Your mother, Lily, belonged to the Wizarding World, while you father belonged to the world of Greek Gods. You are what is called a demigod, the offspring of a mortal and god. We are not yet sure who your father is, but if you wish to come to Mr. Brunner's camp for demigods, you may very well be claimed. If not, you will have to fend for yourself against the monsters that are bound to attack you as soon as you exit this house for any period of time. We can also tell you more of what we have unearthed about James and Lily."
Harry sat on the couch, in complete disbelief. He was a demigod wizard, might have siblings, and his father, a god, was still alive. With that, he fainted.