Harry Potter and the Roofs at Night Chapter 1 : London, somewhere

The owl swooped down over sleeping London, a letter, signed and sealed in emerald green clutched in its talons. Even if it had had only the stars to see by it would still have been able to fly true, but it wasn't necessary. London sleeping was almost as bright as London awake. But light or no light this delivery was a tough one. The post owls prided themselves on being able to find anyone but it didn't make it easy when the address was simply …

London, somewhere…

But Dumbledore had given her special instructions for this delivery, and she never wavered in her flight, swooping down past a row of shops, past bakers, bankers and opticians and curving cleanly into the alley behind them to alight on a streetlamp. Her big brown eyes took in the whole scene, the brick walls, the large dumpster bins and the small boy, wrapped in a coat too large for him by half, trotting down the alley from the other direction.

The boy stopped next to one of the dumpsters and quietly lifted the lid, running his hands past papers and coffee grounds. He began picking out broken glasses, cracked lenses and the like, transferring them to a pocket of his coat. When he had a full pocket he did something peculiar, he scratched a cross mark into one of the walls of the alley, then sat down opposite it and began putting first one, then another of the lenses to his eyes. After an hour of this, the small boy's face broke into a smile at a particular half-cracked lens, he grinned as he spun it into the air like a coin, and rolled it across the back of his fingers.

A moment later the boy was rummaging in his torn and tatty backpack and eventually drew out a small parcel. When he unrolled it on the ground the owls eyes sparkled in the glimmer of four more lenses, one a mirror-match of the one the boy held in his hand, this he took and replaced the others carefully in his bag. The next to come from the bag of tricks was a frame (selected from a few in the bag) and a tube of glue. Two pinprick dabs of glue to each lens and the boy carefully laid his prize on the floor to dry, then crawled behind the dumpster and rolled himself up in his coat.

The owl waited until the child was asleep, then calmly hopped off its perch and placed the letter beside the child, he would find it in the morning. By the yellow halogen lamp it read...

Harry Potter
London, somewhere

*

Harry Potter flickered between waking and sleep for the longest time. Slipping in and out of dreams he would not remember on waking, until he fell into a deeper slumber and curled himself tight into a little ball, a well of warmth with his hands tucked in his armpits and his head ducked down. Shifting and gliding from dreams of the past, of leaving the Dursleys.

Harry Potter always thought of as just leaving. He did not run away! You can only run away from home, and Privet Drive had never been home. He had decided that. He knew he had another home, he dreamed of that too. Not with images or anything tangible, just of a sense of warmth, and also pain, he didn't understand that. Other dreams pushed in on his night time reminiscence and he touched on other things, the pies in the nearby bakery, the work to do tomorrow and tonight's work, still drying, on the ground, until…

"Get up! Get out!"

Not Harry's rudest awakening, but far from pleasant. Harry uncurled like a spring, just stopping to grab his work on the ground before pelting off down the alleyway, chased by the irate baker. Rounding a corner Harry ran on, past surprised, mildly startled and downright shocked pedestrians, past lamps, dogs and pigeon flocks, even past and through the cars as Harry dashed across a busy road. It no longer mattered that he'd lost any pursuers three blocks ago, it was just good to run.

Harry stopped in Regents Park and ducked to drink from one of the fountains and snatched a few coins from the bottom. Soon hopefully he would have money coming to him (at least, as much as he ever had) and he could take some small measure of it to fill what was more often than not lately a gnawing hole in his middle (at least it was summer, winter was worse). Harry walked down Euston road for a while, not caring or seeing where he was going until he reached the station itself. The sun was higher by that time and people were beginning to come and go from the building.

"Not commuters yet though." thought Harry "not for hours."

Harry set his hat down where no one could avoid him, or pretend not to see him, and slipped three coloured balls out of his coat. Shifting them all to his left hand, he flicked his new glasses on with his right. The balls became edged in crystal clarity as the lenses slipped over his eyes. Harry stood in the square and laughed for a while, laughed into the morning sky while the people around him stared or frowned, then, in a twinkling, Harry swept all three into the air and spun them around his hands faster and faster. He laughed as he fountained the balls up above his head. People began to take notice as he added a fourth ball, and a fifth. People walked past and turned to stare for a moment before flipping coins into his hat or even waited there watching him for a while before moving on.

Harry smiled, this time not for the act itself, but for the coins. This was why he had had to make glasses and why his stomach was emptier than normal. He hadn't been able to manage more than three balls since Christmas. Just to show himself he could, Harry added another ball and split the balls into two circles ("Oooh!" Said a small girl passing by. The mother smiled at him, but didn't drop anything). The two circles became one again as they began to wobble ("Out of practice" thought Harry) and he pocketed two of the balls back away, he had to keep this up for a while.

The sun was high in the sky before Harry moved from his spot. He scooped his winnings to an inside pocket and went off to buy lunch. He bought sandwiches at some newsagents with no real name and ate them slowly on a park bench and drank more water from a fountain. On the way back to his spot Harry passed another food shop, the cakes in the window looked even better than the first ones had. Harry walked past, thrift was in his bones.

When Harry got back to the station he realised something was wrong. In the exact center of the square was the biggest man Harry had ever seen. From the toes of his large leather boots, past his heavy furred overcoat (Bet that's warm, thought Harry) all the way to his face, so covered , variously, in beard, moustache and dirty black hair that only small parts of skin were visible, the man was easily eight foot tall. The very appearance of the man was so striking that for a long moment Harry didn't see what the man was doing and then he became even more curious. The tall man seemed to be looking for something, he would consult a piece of (very old and yellow looking) paper then look around, staring at people, then look worriedly back at the paper.

"Maybe he's lost" Thought Harry. But the tall man didn't seem to be about to move on, neither did he seem to be the type to ask directions. Harry was torn for a moment between apprehension at the imposing figure and a chance to snap up a bit more money from helping a lost tourist. But a moment later his indecision became redundant as the tall man turned to look at Harry and his face broke into a huge smile. The tall man ran over to where Harry was standing (breaking several paving stones) and stopped in front of the startled child looking, in turns, happy and relieved.

Yes?" Volunteered Harry, "Can I help you?" he hazarded, then (in a last ditch effort to regain normality) "are you lost?"

"Nope," Said the tall man, spreading his mouth in the widest smile Harry had ever seen. "I think I've found what I've been looking for."

"And that is?" But Harry already dreaded and expected the answer.

"Well you o' course! Didn't you get… Hey Wait!" By halfway through the sentence Harry was halfway across the square, and accelerating.

Harry dodged across a side road and began haring down first one back street then another.

"One good thing about being chased by a giant…" thought Harry "You know when he's behind you!" The pavement cracked and buckled as the tall man chased Harry, he didn't seem to run much but he only had to take one running step to Harry's three and he didn't have to dodge through crowds either, people fell over themselves to get out of the way. And all the time they were running the tall man kept yelling

"Wait! You got to have yer letter! You got… Out a my way you! … to read it! Stop!"

Harry pelted off a main road and down an alley, he was moving so fast he almost shot past the thing he had been searching for. Harry skidded to a halt and grasped both hands round the cast iron drainpipe (his little trick was less useful now most pipes were plastic but it had still put him above and away from more than one bit of trouble), his feet went against the wall and he pulled himself hand over hand upwards, two of his balls slipped out of his pocket and fell back down but he ignored them, he could get more (well, he could probably get more, and in a pinch anything round would do) and pulled himself onto the tiled roof above him. Harry lay there for a second, finding his balance (and his breath) before sliding back to the edge and looking over. Three stories down ("It had looked so much larger from the bottom" thought Harry) the tall man stood hunched over, catching his breath in huge, leviathan, gulps that disturbed the dust on the ground. The man managed to stand up after a few moments and began rummaging in his coat. After a few tries at various pockets he managed to pull out what looked like a sealed envelope and thrust it into the air.

"You got… to have… yer letter." The man said breathlessly. He wiped his hand across his face and shook the sweat off on the ground. "Blimey you're fast." And with that the tall man dropped to the ground and sat there mopping his brow.

"Who are you?" Called Harry "and why are you chasing me?"

"I was chasing you 'cos you bloody ran away wasn't I!" Said the tall man, pulling off his coat to expose a dirty white shirt and suspenders. "Why'd you do that anyway?"

"Because I've never met you before." Said Harry. " Why would someone I've never met before be looking for me at Euston station! Also…" added Harry as another thought hit him "how did you even know I'd be there!"

"We've met before Harry, y'just don't remember. Not that I'm surprised at that, you were small enough to fit in my hand back then, and you were easier to catch." The tall man said smiling. "I knew you when you was a baby. Knew your parents too, friends." The mans head drooped for a moment then came back up quickly. "As to how I found you, well, I had some help with that." The man reached into his coat and dug out a pink umbrella with frilly lace edges, it looked almost like it should be in a cocktail nestled in his big hands.

"An umbrella?" Said Harry "Oh of course!" Harry stood up and began strutting along the edge of the roof ("Careful" cried the tall man") "Why didn't I see it before? An umbrella, a magical umbrella that points you on your way! The umbrella of light, The umbrella of seeking!" Harry spun on one foot and began walking the other way. "The pastel, pink umbrella of plenty!" Harry threw back his head and laughed. "You're nuts mate! An umbrella can't help you find anyone."

"You think so do you?" Said the man, still smiling, "Then I think it's high time you read your letter." The man put the letter on the ground in front of him (pausing for a moment when he realised he had been using it to mop his brow) then stepped back and pointed the umbrella at it and mumbled under his breath.

"Hey!" Harry jumped back and almost fell over as one corner of the letter burst into purple flames.

"It's all right! It's all right!" Cried the man, stamping out the fire with his boot. " It only got the envelope and that was pretty wet so it's all right. I'll try again." Harry watched in stunned anticipation as the man stepped back again, raised the umbrella carefully and mumbled something slightly different towards the envelope. For a moment nothing happened. Then, slowly, one edge of the envelope lifted up, dipped back down again ("steady" mumbled the man) then righted itself and rose by one corner as if it was drawn up by an invisible thread. The letter rose higher and higher until it drew level with Harry's face. He stood up and the letter obligingly rose to accommodate him. Harry carefully reached out and waved his hand over the letter, then under it, then all around just to be sure. He finally drew his hand back and whispered

"How…" Harry leaned in to get a closer look and suddenly, momentarily, forgot he was on a rooftop. His feet slipped out from under him and he tumbled over, skinning his legs on the edge before falling like a stone. As he spun in the air he looked up to see the letter, still casually floating above him. "Weird day…" Thought Harry, then large hands caught him.

"What'd you do that for?" said the man. Setting Harry back down on the ground where he stumbled and sat down on a delivery pallet. "You coulda' been hurt, or worse!"

"How?..." Harry pointed to the letter now gently drifting down from the roof. "no strings…"

"Oh, that's easy stuff." The tall man waved his hand disparagingly "Even I can do that, you'll learn that in your first week, its one of the simplest charms."

"Charms?!" Harry felt like running away again but his legs wouldn't move. "Like, as in, spells?"

"Ah…" said the man "I was afraid of that. You're aunt and uncle probably meant to tell you when you was older. We didn't know if they had."

"You know my aunt and uncle." Harry looked at the man and tried to work out the chances that this person was friends with his aunt and uncle. Low, he decided, very, very low.

"Nah, I never met um. But we knew that was who was taking care of you after your parents died." His parents… Harry tried to remember what his aunt had told him about them. Very little, just that they were the wrong sort of people and died in some accident. A fire wasn't it? Or maybe a car crash? Anyway Harry had privately decided that if they were people his aunt disapproved of then he probably would have liked them a lot. Liked them better than his aunt and uncle at least.

"That was a long time ago." Harry snapped back to the present. "and I'm better off without them taking care of me!" The tall man gave him a shrewd look, taking in his heavily worn clothes and shoes. "Well…" added Harry "at least now I don't get slapped if I don't have meals ready for them on time." Harry grinned "Who knows how they managed without me? Probably starved to death trying to work out how the oven works." He laughed and was pleased to see the tall man laugh too. "Mind you it'd take a while to starve Dudley. Fat reserves like a camel!" Harry did a quick fat-cousin impression, waddling along the alley, and the man laughed harder.

"We'll wherever you've come from you're going somewhere better." Said the man when he finished chuckling. He fished the envelope back off the floor and handed it to Harry. "This should explain most of what you're wondering about and I'll fill in the blanks." Harry took the letter carefully and looked at it before opening it. It was an old fashioned one, made with yellowing parchment and sealed with a coat of arms in wax, melted wax now of course. Harry wiped the sticky mass away with his sleeve and opened the letter. Inside were three pieces of paper and what looked like a train ticket. All made of funny old paper. He stared at the ticket, it had gold leaf an it and had a large crest ("probably the same one that was on the letter") embossed into it. Harry wondered what kind of train required a ticket like this, and where such a train would go to. ("Either a land of rich people…" thought Harry "…or a chocolate factory.")

"Read the letter, read the letter!" Urged the tall man impatiently. Harry tucked the ticket into his pocket and pulled out one of the sheets of paper. He opened it. His eyes slid from one side to the other. He had read each line about three times before he finally believed that what he thought he read was actually what was on the page. Harry held the letter in front of him and tried to calm his voice before saying,

"A school?"

"Yep," Said the tall man smiling "Hogwarts, best school in the world for people like you. Course the other schools'll tell you different, but anyone who knows what there talking about says Hogwarts is the greatest. Course we have Albus Dumbledore, none of the rest of em can say that."

"Who's he?" Said Harry, still desperately trying to avoid the one part of the letter that had him shaking most. "Someone famous?"

"He's the headmaster." Said the tall man, drawing himself up importantly. "He gave me this job himself. Great man Dumbledore. But you'll be seeing him when you reach Hogwarts." Harry's eyes were drawn to the postscript on the bottom of the letter, written in a different handwriting than the rest of the text, and with different ink.

P.S.

Due to your special circumstances an escort has been provided for you to explain and help you through the process of preparing for your first school year. If this letter has not come to you via one Rubious Hagrid then you will be meeting him shortly. I wish you all the best for the start of your first school year.

Albus Dumbledore

"Rubious Hagrid?" The tall man nodded.

"Yep that's me. Gamekeeper, caretaker and keeper of keys at Hogwarts."

"And…" Harry took a deep breath, there wasn't much else he could ask before he asked this so he should just get it over with. "…Hogwarts is a school of magic?"

"Of course." Said Hagrid. "As I said, best school in the world."

"Magic like you just did? Making things float and explode?"

"Well, yeah." Said Hagrid "What did you think it meant? Those tricks muggles ("muggles?") use to fool each other?"

"And you think I can do that?"

"With a little training o'course, that's what Hogwarts is for." Hagrid put his hand on Harry's shoulders "Come on, we've stood here long enough and we need to be getting your school stuff. But first we should get you washed up and in some proper clothes." Hagrid led Harry down the alley. Harry followed placidly.

When your entire life shatters like glass and is replaced something glittering and new, sharp and scary. When your life changes in an instant you can either pull back, hold on to the old, try to pick up the pieces and risk destroying the new crystal future you have found, for the sake of safe waters of the past. Or you can drop, laughing into the new life, with its shiny possibilities. And you either ride it through, or get swallowed under.

Harry laughed as he walked out of the alleyway, and into shiny futures.