2 hours later, and Harry Potter was sleeping, slumped over his notebook protectively. Music was still blaring loudly out of his headphones, though they had slipped down, and were now hanging awkwardly around his neck. There had been no sign of his Aunt or Uncle, and he slumbered on fairly peacefully, undisturbed. Then, a sharp crack. A figure, flowing and blending with the night, dressed all in black, stepped out of the shadows, where he had most certainly not been before. He was proceeded by an elegant tabby cat, who had odd shaped black markings around its face, reminiscent of how glasses would lie. They looked around quickly and strode off in one direction. Two minutes later, and they were back, this time looking confused, and walking off in the other direction. They crossed over the road, not looking as they walked over it, with either arrogance or a complete ignorance of how a road worked. The cat went to jump up onto the curb, when, all of a sudden, it locked eyes with the boy they had not noticed before, sleeping on the pavement. The cat let out a strangled yelp of surprise, and fell backwards, garnering the attention of the tall, vampiric man and waking the snoring figure. The cloaked man looked around, and saw green eyes staring back at him.

The man blinked, slowly, and green eyes blinked back. The owner of the curse coloured eyes moved his head to the side, and started to stiffly get up out of the heap he was lying in.

"Hello Sir" acknowledged Harry first, rubbing sleep out of his eyes, a and looking too drowsy to be confused. He had an unusual voice, a soft lilt with sharp vowels "Can I help you?" Harry looked the dark figure up and down. He was dressed, for lack of a better word, weirdly, in something almost resembling a dress, but a dress with little shape and odd bits hanging off. In fact, it looked closer to a bathrobe, thought Harry, stifling a smirk. 'No, don't be mean, Mr Potter' he chastised himself. The man didn't look normal, but then, who was Harry to judge normal? God knows he was the oddest kid he knew. Other than the bathrobe, the man looked fairly ordinary. With black, lank hair and a long nose, there was nothing extraordinary about his face, though with the moon behind him just so, he looked like a bat, Harry noted. Mentally giggling, Harry looked back at the still silent man.

'Well come on' Harry whispered. 'Say hello to the lunatic men'

Mr. Bat seemed to catch that, and broke out of his trance. "Good evening, young man." The Bat drawled, in a way that screamed sarcasm. "What on earth is a boy your age doing out at this time of night?"

Oh, shit. Harry's mind woke up pretty quickly at that- there wasn't really a plausible reason, past the fact he wanted to stay out to write his lyrics and listen to music in peace. And, of course, his guardians would have likely hit him if he came home tonight. Harry's Aunt didn't like Vernon hitting Harry when Dudley was around- because when Dudley was around, it was Dudley who needed attention, not the freak.

"Well.." He began, stalling for time. "I..um.."

The man sneered, and said "I presume you are competent enough to give an address?"

"Sir? Who's address?"

The Bat raised an eyebrow, and sneered. "Yours, preferably."

Well damn. Night over. The Dursley's would kill him when he got back, but Harry was a truly terrible liar- there was no way he could bluff his way past this man. "Number 4".

The man, who had been turning around to go, whipped back around sharply to face Harry. A cat, who had been standing behind the Bat, also turned to stare at Harry.

"You are... Harry Potter?" The Bat's voice had taken on a strangled tone.

"Yes." Harry frowned. "How do you know my name? Who are you? What do you want?" The questions were delivered at the rate of a machine gun, and at the end of them, the young boy looked ready to run.

"My name is Professor Severus Snape. I am a teacher and Head of Slytherin at Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, but you will know all about that, won't you Potter?" The last word was spat out with so much venom, Harry was surprised his plastic coated Walkman

didn't melt.

"Um... no sir, I don't. I'm a wizard? And what is Hogwarts?"

Snape looked incredulously at Harry. "You mean to tell me that you, Harry Potter, don't know about the Wizarding World? That you don't know you are a wizard?"

"The only wizards I know are Bowie, Mercury and Iggy. To be perfectly honest, I think you are completely mad."

"Who?"

"Bowie? You must have heard of him! Ziggy Stardust and all? He's my idol!"

"He is no wizard. No wizard would take a name like...that. Iggy Moonrock?"

Harry looked the man up and down.

"He's more of a wizard than you are! At least he doesn't look like a freaking bat!" Harry snorted.

Snape frowned, but moved quickly on. "This conversation is both banal and irrelevant. How can you not have known about Magic?"

Something in Snape's attitude riled Harry. "Look, Snake. Snape. Whatever you are called. I can tell you right now that the only magic I know of is the Dance variety, and that was from a film! This conversation is ridiculous, and I want to go to sleep. Goodbye Mr Snape!"

Just as Harry turned to leave, the cat started moving. It ran straight in front of him, and then did the impossible. Where the cat spectacle markings had been standing, there was now a stern, sharp looking woman, with hair brutally pulled back her face, which was full of lines (many of which seemed to have come from frowning). "Mr Potter" the cat turned lady spoke. "You are correct, this conversation is getting ridiculous. You are a wizard, young man". At this point she frowned, and looked him up and down, taking in his androgynous appearance. He had long feathery hair, down to his shoulders and very styled. His features were pointy, rather feminine and he held himself well, unlike most boys his age. His grimy grey T-shirt had 7/1/1978 printed on it, with the face of a man with a cigarette in his mouth above that, and above that the word HEROES. The T-shirt looked tatty, almost falling apart, but cared for. The jeans had seen better days as well; the electric blue they had been when new had faded and at the knees the fabric was nearly white. However, they had maintained their tightness, in fact, they looked rather more like girls jeans than boys. And then there were the braces, the cheap clasps shiny in the moonlight, the red of the elastic loud and garish over his shirt. She could remember when those sort of things were fashionable, and it was not in this era. Glaring at her blatant disapproval, Harry reached up to brush some of his long fringe out of his eyes, and the 2 teachers got their next big shocks. Harry Potter was wearing nail polish, silver painted on neatly. Their saviour was wearing Make-Up, eyeliner and eye-shadow and was that lipstick? Harry Potter was not living up to their expectations so far.

Rolling his painted eyes, Harry decided that it was time to interrupt their horror-fest cause by his, now clear, appearance. "Hello? Can we just back up to where I am a wizard?"

"Of course, Mr Potter" Cat Woman said. "My name is McGonagall, and I am also a Professor at Hogwarts. I taught your parents some years ago, and have been expecting to teach you for a while now. You say you know nothing of Wizardry?"

Dumbly, Harry nodded. Everything was taking a while to sink in, and Harry was not entirely sure he was capable of speech.

"Well then, we will start from the beginning. Have you ever done anything... Unusual?"

At Harry's raised eyebrow (which looked very thin, for a boys) she quickly specified. "Unusual, as in, changed something's colour. Made something float?"

Harry nodded, and found his rather stuck voice "Dudley ripped up my notebook once. I put it back together without tape of glue. You mean stuff like that?"

McGonagall nodded, and quickly continued, explaining how magic could often manifest it's self this way, how it was normal and how Hogwarts could teach you to control this. She then went on to tell Harry All about the magical world, from broomsticks(apparently they could fly!) to the ministry of magic. At the end of her lecture, Harry's head was spinning, and Snape was smirking. "Ok" Harry mumbled. "Ok. This Hogwarts place, do they do music classes?"

Snape let out a bitter laugh. "No. We do have a choir, but that's rather... Traditional for your tastes, I would guess"

"Oh. Do you have rock stars?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, we do. Is that all?"

"Not quite, I'm afraid." Harry tilted his head sideways. "I'm... Famous, in your world?"

"Your world as well Mr Potter" McGonagall smiled at him before continuing. "And yes you are. Legendary, in fact."

Harry frowned, his face creasing up. "But what it-" his voice cracked slightly. "What if I don't want to be famous. For that? Can I... Is there some way I could...If I'm going to be famous, I don't want it to be because a monster killed my parents"

Snape's face had seemed to go through a mixture of emotions at this small speech, and had settled on blank for the moment. McGonagall looked appalled. "Of course not! That is simply not to be do-".

Snape cut her off with a strange look on his face. "There might be a way, at least to avoid the students.." He studied Harry carefully as Harry pulled on his braces, nervously. "Severus!" McGonagall snapped.

"No, Minerva, just listen. If we entered Mr Potter here as Mr Evans, only the teachers will have to know. It may prevent some... Trouble making and ego trips that would have otherwise occurred. We can spread the word that Boy Saviour is training in secret" McGonagall looked thoughtful at this. "There is the scar, of course. And some may still recognise the name... Old friends of Lily..."

"A little make up will cover that up, Merlin knows Potter probably has some. As for the other issue we shall spread the word of no relation. Besides, who will expect our boy-saviour to look like... Look like..."

"A poof, Professor Snape?" Said Harry, a smirk playing across his features.

"Something to that effect, yes." Harry got the feeling that by asking to be entered into Hogwarts as something other than Harry Potter, he had garnered an interest, even respect from Professor Snape. Harry was glad, he seemed like a good man to be fighting in your corner, or, at the very least, not directly against you. Harry was also thankful to Snape for backing him up on the name thing. It didn't sound like a fair thing to be famous for, and if Harry was going to be famous, which he very much planned upon, it was going to be on his terms, for his hard work. He was going to be a musician, after all, he hoped. He didn't really know if he was any good, not having anybody by stars to compare by, and, by the sounds of it, he wouldn't know at Hogwarts either.

And talking of music...

"Professor Snape?"

"What is it, Evans?" He barked. Ah, so the Professor didn't like the name Potter. Interesting.

"I was wondering if there was a... Um.. Way you could get my Walkman to work at Hogwarts. It's just... Um... It means a lot to me."

"Hmph. I will show you tomorrow. For now, you need to go home, and sleep. We will be picking you up at 6.30 am tomorrow, so you must sleep. I do not want to be dealing with tired brats in the morning. We will pick you up from your house, and you are to be sleeping there tonight, do I make myself clear? I will know if you haven't gone home."

"Umm, Yes sir. Sorry sir, but what is the time?"

"It is 2am, Evans. A completely disrespectable time."

Good, thought Harry. Vernon is always asleep by now. He really didn't fancy dealing with him on top of everything else.

Harry walked back to his house, silently opening the door before placing the key back under the flower pot. He sneaked, carefully, on tiptoes, into his cupboard, in which he got change, the cot creaking ominously, and settled down, letting the music from his favourite tape lull him to sleep.

A.N well, there you go. Harry Potter (or should I say Evans?) is going to Hogwarts. What did you think, readers? Ridiculous? Out of character? Please feel free to tell me using the nice little box below. Oh, and if you spot any mistakes, inaccuracies, spelling problems or wrackspurts, please tell me so I can change them. 2 little Bowie things in this chapter, spot them and I'll give you a nargle. Stay well, readers.

THM.