"Yer… a wizard, Harry." Hagrid's face twisted into a wild grin as he looked down at Harry.

Harry frowned. "Wizards don't exist. I've heard of the Salem Witchcraft Trials, but that's just a bunch of people trying to screw each other over. They can't be real."

"They are." Hagrid's smile was still fixated in place. "Yer parents were wizards. Well, yer mum was a witch."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "You're so rude! You called my dead mother a… witch."

"No, no!" Hagrid tried to explain. "I didn't mean nothin' against yer mum. She was among the best of 'em."

"Look, Mr. Hagrid," said Harry exasperatedly. "Witches can't exist. My parents died in a car crash!"

It was Hagrid's turn to look flabbergasted. "Car crash? CAR CRASH? No car crash could o' killed Lily an' James Potter."

Uncle Vernon looked up from where he was cowering in the corner. "You shan't tell him, sir!"

"I'll see if a great Muggle like you can stop me," Hagrid growled, brandishing his pink umbrella at him.

Vernon, terrified at being speared on the end of it by this stranger, turned meekly back to the wall.

"You are a wizard, Harry." Hagrid had begun to beam again. "It's in yer blood. Your parents weren't bad, no, they were the best you could find anywhere. They had magic powers."

Harry shook his head. "Magic isn't real."

"Aw, no, Harry." Hagrid bit his lip. "It's very real. You see, yer gonna be goin' to this school, Hogwarts, to learn develop yer powers."

"He's not going!" bellowed Uncle Vernon.

Hagrid, in one sharp movement, whipped out his umbrella again. Pointing it at Dudley, he let out a single blast of white light. When the shine receded, everyone in the room gaped at...

"A ruddy pig's tail!" shrieked Uncle Vernon. "No, no, no! What have you done?"

"See, Harry?" smiled Hagrid. "That's magic."

"No!" Harry protested. He leapt for Dudley's bottom, seizing the bouncy pink tail in his right hand. But no matter how hard he pulled, it would not come off.

"See?" repeated Hagrid. "Magic."

At last, Harry agreed.

It was finally the first of September, and Harry had finally reached Hogwarts. He stood in front of the patched Sorting Hat, waiting to be put into his House.

At long last, Professor McGonagall read his name off the long roll of parchment in her aged hands. "Potter, Harry."

He clambered forward and dropped the hat over his eyes; it really was quite large.

Now... Harry Potter... Where to put you? I see talent, yes, and a nice thirst to prove yourself.

Harry stood up, jerking the hat away. "I'm hearing voices in my head," he whispered. "I must be crazy, yes, that's it. I imagined the magic Hagrid showed me. I'm crazy."

"Potter, sit down," snapped Professor McGonagall. "The Hat cannot decide your House if it is not on your head."

Harry reluctantly put the hat back on, but he hummed loudly until it shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

"Hello," said a pale, pointed-faced boy. "I'm Draco Malfoy."

"Hi," said Harry, eager to make friends. "I'm Harry Potter."

"Glad to see you're not making friends with the wrong sort."

"Yes," Harry replied. "They're all so strange."

Draco grinned back.

Harry and Draco had stumbled across the third-floor corridor on their way to their favorite class- potions.

"Let's take a look," urged Draco.

"I don't know..."

"Come on! Or are you a coward?"

"Never! Fine, let's go." Harry led the way into the room.

The three-headed dog was apparently hungry. In one lunge, it had snapped up both boys, and in the second moment of the attack, both were in its mouth and dead.

Results:

Harry did not argue with the Sorting Hat, and was placed in Slytherin accordingly.

Harry and Draco became friends because they were in the same House, after all.

Draco pushed his new "friend" into breaking the rules and killing both of them.

Unfortunately, Voldemort got the Sorcerer's Stone and came to power.