A Visitor in the Magical Kingdom
Chapter 2: Persuasion
Minerva checked her watch and rolled her eyes. Of all the mundane jobs she had as Deputy Headmistress of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, this one ranked right up there. Each summer near the end of July she would unlock the records room in the castle, signaling that preparations were to begin for another school year. Her first task was to determine who would be invited to start their magical education at Hogwarts.
The fun part was always the beginning. Looking in the wizarding records book that recorded the births of magical babies would bring back memories of past classmates – now past students, but Minerva chose not to dwell on that. This year brought several names she recognized, along with more bittersweet memories than in years past. Along with the standard families she saw over and over – another Weasley! – she noticed a Longbottom and a Potter. These two families were hit particularly hard during the last war and represented the last surviving members of their lineage.
After compiling the list of eligible students, she went about drafting the form letter explaining how they were invited to study at Hogwarts. Due to magic, this wasn't a hard task as she only had to write one letter and make copies. The only time-consuming portion was writing in each name on her registry. Somehow, the book knew their current residence; another mystery created by the Hogwarts founders that no one could explain how exactly it worked.
The monotonous portion of this task occurred a couple days later, as responses would pour in. Minerva had long ago used magic to automatically record the responses in ledgers and send out the standard equipment lists to new students. The only 'manual' activities she now had to perform were for the upper classes; the soon-to-be 6th years who were receiving OWL results and those chosen to be either a prefect or quidditch captain.
Checking her watch again, she realized it was time for a meeting of the head teachers. She quickly snapped up the first year ledger of those that accepted the invitation and headed to the Headmaster's office.
"Good evening Minerva," Albus intoned. "I'm glad you saw fit to join us this evening." His eyes sparkled with barely-contained mirth as a thin frown settled on his Deputy Headmistress' face. This was quickly followed by a rather rude hand gesture which brought chuckles from most of those in attendance. The summer definitely brought out the inner child of this group! Straightening up to take on a more serious air, the Headmaster started the meeting. "Minerva, I see you have the list of new students we'll be seeing this fall. Let's start by dividing up visitation responsibilities." Each new child to Hogwarts would be greeted individually by a teacher so they could answer any questions the family may have. If they were muggle-born, that teacher would also escort them to Diagon Alley in order to show them the magical shopping district and help them buy school supplies.
After an hour, all 47 new students had been assigned to a teacher and travel schedules were aligned. Albus was a bit saddened to have such a small group coming to Hogwarts this year but knew it was inevitable. 1980 had been one of the darkest years in the battle against Voldemort so magical children – especially muggle-born magical children – were few and far between. Nevertheless he looked forward to the sorting and seeing the progenies of friends and colleagues filter through the doors. With a sigh he began counting down to September 1st.
The welcoming feast was smashing as usual. While the group was small, there were several intriguing students entering Hogwarts that brought both excitement and dread. Severus seemed particularly pleased with the 'haul' Slytherin received this year, even if Albus himself was a little less excited due to their parents' … questionable … associates when they were younger.
Albus' happy reverie was broken when Minerva, sitting on his left, suddenly dropped her fork and sucked in a breath. The rest of the hall grew silent – this was most unusual behavior for the unflappable Deputy Headmistress. With wide, panicked eyes she turned to Albus and blurted out, "I must speak with you right now!" As she whirled around to get up, she added in a loud stage whisper, "In private!"
Rolling his eyes, at her antics, Albus dropped his napkin on the table and gestured for the rest of the professors to remain seated and enjoy the meal; he would straighten this out quick enough. Entering an antechamber behind the staff table, he let out an exasperated sigh. "What are you on about, Minerva?"
With trembling hands she exerted a vice-like grip on the Headmaster's arm. "Albus, I remember seeing a name in the registry that didn't come through the sorting. I don't think his letter went unanswered so I can only imagine he refused to come! But why? What should we do?"
Thoroughly confused, Albus gently pushed Minerva into a chair and attempted to wrestle his arm free from her grasp. Unsuccessful, he leaned against the nearby table to keep from falling over and glared at the woman. "Slow down, Minerva; who didn't accept admission?"
With wide eyes and a now-calm voice, she quietly responded, "Harry Potter."
Usually the morning of September 2nd meant enjoying a fine breakfast as the students chatted excitedly to another, awaiting their schedules so classes could begin. This morning, however, Albus and Minerva were grimacing under the unusually warm sun and slightly polluted air in Surrey. They arrived in Little Whinging, managed to navigate the maze of cookie-cutter houses to Privet Drive, and were now standing on the plastic welcome mat of house #4. The neighbors out and about were unabashedly staring at the old man with long gray hair – both on his head and on his face – in a purple robe and pointy hat, along with the stern-looking woman dressed in similar black attire.
Heavy footsteps approached to answer their knocking and the door swung open to reveal a round boy with dark eyes, sandy hair, and a sleepy look on his face. Taking in their odd appearance, he closed the door a little bit and tried to hide behind it before asking, "Erm … what do you want?"
Trying to muster as much grandfatherly charm as he could, Albus looked down at the boy and pleasantly replied, "Good morning my dear boy, is your mother or father home?"
Nodding mutely, the boy slowly backed away from the door, eyes wide and senses now on alert. After about 5 paces, he abruptly turned with surprising agility and tore down the hallway toward the back of the house. A moment later a flustered-looking woman emerged, wiping away dribbles of coffee from her shirt with a rag. She reached the door and stopped dead in her tracks, staring at the visitors as her mouth opened in a silent 'Oh!' of surprise.
After her shock wore off, Petunia ushered the visitors into the kitchen where an informal meeting took place around the table. Putting down his coffee, Albus finished his tale of recent events. "So that's when we became most distressed that perhaps there had been some mistake. We apologize for that, but are happy to escort Harry to Hogwarts now."
Petunia and the boys, who had been politely listening to this odd man ramble on for the last couple of minutes, turned to look at each other. Sensing it was her motherly duty, Petunia took the point. "I see there has been confusion, but I'm afraid no mistake. We did receive your letter and we did reply in kind. Harry chose not to attend Hogwarts."
"But he must come to Hogwarts!" Albus blurted out, groaning inwardly at his lack of tact.
"That is nothing of the sort that he must do," Petunia evenly replied, trying to hold back the venom in her voice.
Minerva decided to try and help her flailing boss a bit. "Harry, why don't you want to come to Hogwarts?"
Up to this point, Harry was happy to let his Mum handle this issue. These people were odd, especially the old man, and he felt uncomfortable having to speak to them now. Squirming in his seat and playing with his now-cold eggs, he mumbled out a reply with his head bowed toward the table.
"Speak up, dear. We can't hear you" Petunia encouraged.
Putting a bit more volume into it, Harry tried again. "It's just that I like it here in Surrey. I don't want to leave my Mum and brother."
"But you can learn so much, Harry. You have special talents and we only want to give you the opportunity to learn how to use them."
Harry could feel his face turning red under the scrutiny of the older woman. She was pleasant enough, but in a strict, no-nonsense kind of way. "But ma'am, I don't know if I'll like magic. I could be terrible at it."
"I doubt that. I taught both of your parents and they were excellent students. I'm sure you will be just as talented at magic as they were."
More silence. Finally a small voice whispered, "But it's safe here. My Mum and Dad died in that world, and you left me here without ever coming back. Mum and Dudley took care of me and they are all I have now; I don't want to lose them."
Albus and Minerva exchanged a look, then glanced over at Petunia. She was rubbing Harry's back with one hand and squeezing the life out of her fork with the other. Minerva never had her own children, but still knew what that look meant; they were not going to win this argument.
Albus, apparently, had no such insight. "But Harry – " he started. Petunia quickly cut him off.
"Dudders, did you remember your cricket bat today?"
"Yes Mum," he replied, rummaging through his school bag for a moment before withdrawing the bat victoriously. Petunia then smirked an evil smile at her son, who after a beat, returned it with equal malevolence.
Albus limped down the sidewalk, muttering about snotty kids and their stupid toys. "Just a few more blocks and we will be out of view of the muggles. Then we can get you all fixed up," Minerva consoled in a mothering voice, trying desperately to hide her smile.