Using movie script here, probably will do so in the future as well, just so you know. Not mine, obviously.

Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

-The Internet

And so, finally getting away from the romantic getaway shack, Hagrid and Hadrian can be seen walking in the streets of London.

"I just can't find it in me to understand this! You, Halfbreed-"

"Hagrid-"

"That's what I said."

"Well, Harr- erm, I mean, Hadrian- he interrupted himself at seeing Hadrian's warning look- yer parents were wizards! Great people, James an' Lily Potter." He let out, seeming satisfied that he got to impart that little nugget of information about the wizarding world's little boy-savior's parents.

"Not that. I mean, why don't we just take the Knight bus or something? My feet are, like, killing me here."

Ignoring the fact that Hadrian somehow acquired the knowledge of wizarding transportation, Hagrid put his meaty arm on the slender boy's shoulder and directed him to the entrance of a dilapidated old building. Some would call it warm and welcoming. Hadrian was not one of those. It was, frankly, an embarrassment to be seen entering the place, and so he made sure to use Hagrid as a meat shield the whole time.

"This is it - the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

"Don't see why, really."

Deciding not to be put down in any way, the happy half-giant continued on in a cheery voice.

"This be the entrance to Diagon Alley, it's where we will buy all of tha things you need fer school. Well, the entrance to the entrance."

"You people always over complicate things. Like, I get it- it's a secret, but come on! It's inconvenient is what it is." Is Hadrian's reply as they enter the pub. As soon as they pass the entrance they are hit with warm air, cigarette smoke, alcohol, food and perfume all mixing up in an entirely unpleasant aroma of I don't really want to go through this and Oh my God, Quirrelmort is here!

The barkeep is the first to greet them.

"Ah, Hagrid! The usual, I presume?"

At that, Hadrian just had to but in.

"Well you presume wrong." He looked smug at his clever interjection. Tom, the barkeep, had only one answer to that.

"My word! It's Harry Potter!" At that proclamation the whole pub goes silent, Quirrelmort's head snapping in their direction, probably giving the Mort part of them whiplash.

A random man comes up and shakes Hadrian's hand. Immediately after Hadrian takes his violated hand back and wipes the transferred sweat from the creeper on the back of his trousers. The man, happily ignoring anything weird about their savior exclaims excitedly,

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

A witch comes up and shakes Hadrian's hand, as well. It's like he has a sign on him saying free hand shakes, God! Do these people have no sense of personal space and boundaries? He'll just have to teach the lot of them. Hmpf. The twit shaking his hand like it was the hand of God looks to him with sparkling eyes.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter. I can't believe I'm meeting you at last." Yeah, yeah, the only reason you even have a name is because the Author of this fanfic bothered to actually look it up. Next up in this never ending nightmare of people thinking he actually cares about them is Quirrelmort. With his ridiculous turban thing. Cultural appropriation, is what it is.

"Harry P-potter. C-can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you."

"Yeah… That's not my name." Was his only answer to the strange being. Hagrid, probably feeling a bit left out comes in with his irrelevant two cents. Or sickles as was the case in this 'magical' world.

" Hello, Professor. I didn't see you there. Harry-drian, this is Professor Quirrell. He'll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."

"It's Hadrian. Nice to meet you, I guess." He puts out his hand knowing that if the man actually bothers to shake it Mort will have to vamoosh. Quite expectedly though, Quirrell refuses. Bitch.

"F-fearfully fascinating subject. N-not that you need it, e-eh, Potter? Heheh." Hadrian, obviously bored to tears with the happenings, looks up to Hagrid giving him a look. You know, the look.

Hagrid, nervously clearing his throat says "Yes, well, must be going now. Lots to buy. Heh."

As they are leaving Hadrian deigns to raise his hand in a royal wave and daintily says "Good-bye, sheep."

Of course, everyone collectively ignores anything strange about that and just continue their exclamations of pride at how they got to meet thee famous Boy-Who-Lived!

Entering the cold courtyard containing the entrances to the alleys, Hagrid walks up to the brick wall representing the entrance to Diagon Alley. Hadrian is just glad that there are no vulnerable doors just standing around. He can still remember the cries from the one at the sea-shack. Dreadful business that, being a door.

Hagrid brings up his wandbrella and taps the bricks going in a clockwise direction, starting at the top. As the bricks start to move and open up Hagrid looks down to him, all important, his eyes practically beaming, saying look at this, look how amazing magic is! Hadrian just doesn't give a fuck and moves past him and into Diagon Alley.

"Here's where you'll get your quills and ink, and over there all your bits and bobs for doing your wizardry."

Hadrian is not at all amazed as they pass by shops and owls and bats. He glances over to a broom store, where a group of boys are crowded around a shiny broom. He'll be sure to remember them, if they like cleaning so much they can clean his future room.

"It's a world class racing broom. Look at it, it's the new Nimbus 2000! It's the fastest model yet."

Pft. Sheep.

Hadrian says sarcastically to Hagrid "But, Hagrid, how am I to pay for all this? I haven't any money!"

To which Hagrid, now finding himself put into a teaching role replies "Well there's your money, Harry. Gringotts, the Wizard Bank. T'aint no place safer, 'cept perhaps Hogwarts."

Yeah right, safe.

Inside the bank, they walk down the shiny aisle, passing tiny creatures working. Hagrid continues explaining things no one has asked him to.

"They're goblins, Harry. Clever as they come, goblins, but not the most friendly of beasts. Best stick close to me." Hadrian, of course, does no such thing. Hagrid clears his throat as they approach a counter with a goblin in it. "Mr. Harry Potter wishes to make a withdrawal."

"Actually-" Hadrian interjects " It's Hadrian now, legally."

The goblin looks up. "And does Mr. Hadrian Potter have his key?"

Hagrid ruffles through his pockets, looking for said key. "Oh. Wait a minute. Got it here somewhere."

"Oh, no, you don't. I have my key here." Hadrian pulls a piece of string with a golden key out of his shirt and hands it to the goblin. Hagrid looks at him disbelievingly for a moment, but shakes it off and continues like normal.

"And there's something else as well. Professor Dumbledore gave me this. It's about you-know-what in vault you-know-which." He whispers, handing the Goblin a letter wrapped in string.

" Very well." Is the only answer the both of them get from the Goblin, and they continue onwards.

They find themselves racing down the depth of the caverns in a cartlike structure. The cart stops, a goblin, Griphook, clambers out.

" Vault 687. Lamp, please." Hagrid hands him the lamp and he walks to the vault. Griphook unlocks the vault with Hadrian's key.

The room is filled nearly top to bottom with coins. Hadrian is a bit disappointed, he expected more stuff, you know, things, not just coins.

" Didn't think your mum and dad would leave you with nothing, now didja?" Hagrid asks stupidly. Hadrian says nothing and just takes a bunch of coins and puts it in a bottomless pouch he conveniently found right next to him.

They continue on through the cavern.

" Vault 713." The chatty goblin says.

" What's in there, Hagrid?" Hadrian tries asking cutely. It doesn't work, it seems Hagrid has a large tolerance for cute things. Must come from taking care of deadly animals.

" Can't tell you, Harry. It's Hogwarts business. Very secret."

" Stand back." Griphook slides a long, clawed finger down the door.

Clank. Clank.

The vault opens to expose a small white stone package. Hagrid hurries in and scoops it up. The eerie light it was shining with disappears into the depths of Hagrid's pocket. They continue on.

" Best not mention this to anyone, Hadrian." He gets no response from the bored boy.

They exit the towering building that is the bank. Hadrian, growing more and more bored by the second decides to speed things up a bit.

" I still need a wand."

" A wand? Well, you'll want Ollivander's. No place better. Run along there, but wait. I just got one more thing I got to do. Won't be long."

With that said, Hagrid runs off to do his thing and Hadrian, not listening to a bit that he was told continues on to Ollivander's, or as he calls it- the creepy fuck's.

Harry goes into the store, quietly. He looks around. There are shelves of wands, but no people.

"Hello? Hello?" Hadrian calls out. What crappy customer service. "I'm gonna call your manager, you know!" What does a guy have to do to get a wand here? I mean come on…

There is a thunk. A man appears on a ladder and looks at Hadrian. He smiles. Creepy.

" I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Mr. Potter. It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands." Ollivander picks out a random wand "Ah. Here we are."

Hadrian takes it in his hand, but does nothing. "Well, give it a wave." Ollivander says looking at Hadrian expectantly.

"Yeah, no. This isn't my wand."

"Apparently not." Is the reply, it was like he expected nothing to happen. Like, why did he even give that wand to him then? Ollivander gets another wand.

"Perhaps this?"

"No."

"No?"

"Definitely not."

" No matter..." Ollivander gets another wand "I wonder." He hands the wand to Hadrian, who glows under it.

"Curious, very curious."

"Yeah, yeah. Brother wand, phoenix, Voldemort blah blah. Just get on with it." Ollivander just continues on like nothing Hadrian says registers within his brain.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. It just so happens that the phoenix, whose tail feather resides in your wand gave one other feather, just one. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar. " He raises one liver spotted hand, with his index finger crookedly pointing at Hadrian's forehead. Only to notice, there isn't anything but perfectly smooth, creamy, unblemished skin there. Only a slight widening of his bulgy, translucently blue eyes gives away Ollivanders surprise at that discovery. He continues on anyway.

"Oh, we do not speak his name. The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. It's not always clear why, but I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things...terrible, yes, but great."

Hadrian waits for the appropriately long dramatic pause to pass before requesting a dragonhide holster for his wand, as well as a cleaning and polishing kit. Ollivander smiles indulgently, doing as asked.

"That will be 17 galleons" Just as Hadrian is handing over the coins to the creepy old man there is a knock on the window.

"Harry! Harry! Happy birthday!"

Hagrid happily raises a gilded cage containing an obviously pissed off snowy owl.

"Wow, thanks. I'll call her Hedwig." Hadrian says before promptly opening the cage and releasing said owl from its confines. Ollivander, Hagrid and Hadrian stand there for a minute, just looking at the owl flying away. It is Hadrian that breaks the silence by saying "Ok, bye." And walking away.

The two, Hagrid and Hadrian, are at a long table, eating soup. They have come back to the ruin that is the Leaky C. Hadrian has decided to spend the night here instead of going all the way back to Surrey. Also, he's starting to regret that decision.

" You all right, Hadrian? You seem very quiet."

"Yeah, I'm eating. You should be quiet too."

Hagrid just sighs and pushes his bowl away. "First, and understand this, Hadrian, 'cause it's very important. Not all wizards are good. Some of them go bad. A few years ago there was one wizard who went as bad as you can go. And his name was V-...his name was V-..."

"You mean Voldemort? Yeah, I know 'im."

"Shh!" Hadrian looks around suspiciously. He can feel a flashback lurking.

The flashback attacks.

A cloaked man walking towards a house, breaking in with his wand, and proceeding to terrorize. Hagrid starts to narrate, being completely ensnared in the accursed flashback.

" It was dark times, Hadrian, dark times. Voldemort started to gather some followers, brought 'em over to the dark side. Anyone that stood up to him ended up dead. Your parents fought against him, but nobody lived once he decided to kill 'em."

The flashback continues adding to the story. Hadrian's mother, Lily, screams as she is killed by Voldemort's wand.

"Nobody...not one. Except you."

There is a close up of baby Harry, because he was still Harry then.

" That ain't no ordinary cut on your forehead, Hadrian." Hagrid continues, ignoring the inexistence of said mark.

"A mark like that only comes from being touched by a curse...and an evil curse at that. Some say he died. Codswallop in my opinion. Nope, I reckon he's out there, still, too tired to go on. But one thing's absolutely certain. Something about you stumped him that night. That's why you're famous, Hadrian. That's why everybody knows your name. You're the boy who lived."

"Codswallop. Pft." Is Hadrian's appropriate answer to that story. The flashback runs away in fear.

It is the September 1st and Hadrian can be found looking around the London Train Station.

A couple look at him. Hadrian smiles and the starstruck couple decides that they are fans from now on. They'll be sure to ask for an autograph the next time they see him.

Hadrian looks at his golden train ticket, contemplates selling it for a second, before deciding against it. He continues on to platform 9 ¾ .

A woman, her daughter, and four sons walk by, pushing carts.

"It's the same year after year. Always packed with Muggles, of course." Molly announces, 'inconspicuously' looking in Hadrian's direction.

" Come on. Platform 9 ¾ this way! All right, Percy, you first." She continues.

A tall boy with red hair comes forward and runs towards a brick wall. Amazingly, he disappears right into it. Hadrian is amazed. They look so stupid. He didn't even know someone could look that stupid.

" Fred, you next."

" He's not Fred, I am!" One of the redheaded twins yells out.

" Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother!" Continues the other. It's amazing, Hadrian thinks, they're like a circus act! How exciting!

" Oh, I'm sorry, George."

"I'm only joking. I am Fred." He runs through the wall, and is followed by his twin brother. Hadrian will be sure to make friends with them. Free entertainment, and all that.

" Excuse me! Could you –" Hadrian starts, addressing the Weasley matriarch

" How to get on the platform? Yes, not to worry, dear. It's Ron's first time to Hogwarts as well." She looks to a red haired boy who smiles awkwardly. "Now, all you've got to do is walk straight at the wall between platforms 9 and 10. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous."

"Good luck." Continues the woman's daughter.

"No… I was going to actually ask you to move. If you're not going in please move, you're blocking the entrance."

"Oh. Oh! Yes, of course dear." She moves, dragging her daughter and youngest son out of his way.

Hadrian calmly walks forward and through the wall. He shuts his eyes against the harsh light that greets him on the other side and continues onward once he got his bearings back. In front of him stretches a magnificent station with a red train and bundles of people. A whistle blows, and Hadrian just sighs and continues on to the train. It's such a bother going through all of this. The first year was always boring, in his opinion. Not to mention the suckiness of being stuck in an eleven year old boy's body. He sometimes fantasizes about gagging himself with a spork, but dismisses such day dreams. Where was he gonna find a spork, anyway?

The train is traveling through the rolling hills and plains, the greenery offending Hadrian's eyes. It's obvious which green is prettier.

Inside the compartment, where Hadrian is sitting, are all of his things sprawled across all of the available seating.

The red headed boy, Ron, barges in, the door slamming in his excitement, the dirt on his nose offending Hadrian.

"Excuse me, do you mind? Everywhere else is full."

"I don't know. There's not much space." Hadrian gestures to the purposefully placed obstacles.

Ron rudely moves all of the things laid out on the seats across Hadrian and places them all on a pile in the space between the two sides, just below the window, and sits his ass.

"I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

"I'm Hadrian."

Ron goes agape.

" So-so it's true?! I mean, do you really have the...the..."

" The what?"

Ron whispers "Scar...?"

Hadrian lifts his pitch black fringe off of his forehead showing the clear skin situated there. "Oh, yeah." He replies.

"Wicked." Is the redheaded boy's response, apparently not noticing anything amiss.

A trolley comes by the compartment, full of sweets.

" Anything off the trolley, dears?" The woman pushing the trolley asks.

Ron holds up his collection of mushed sandwiches and with a grimacing smile replies "No, thanks, I'm all set." And smacks his lips.

Hadrian pulls out a handful of gold coins, looking at Ron all the while. He replies to the still waiting trolley Lady "No, thanks." And puts the galleons back in his expandable pouch. Ron looks suitably heartbroken, and the woman leaves, closing the abused door behind her.

After an uncomfortably long silence Ron takes out the disguised Animagus out of his pocket.

"This is Scabbers, by the way, pitiful, isn't he?" Ron asks, hopeful ayes looking directly at Hadrian.

" Yep."

" Fred gave me a spell as to turn him yellow. Want to see?"

"Why not." Maybe there is still some hope for the boy, he is trying to entertain him...

Ron clears his throat. "Ahem. Sun-" He starts before being interrupted by none other than Hermione Know-It-All Granger. Her bushy brown hair appears at the doorway.

" Has anyone seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

" No." Replies Ron, looking a bit off.

" Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it then."

" Aghhhemm. Sunshine, daises, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!"

Ron zaps the rat but nothing extraordinary happens. Ron shrugs and continues on with his life.

Hermione is not satisfied, though. "Are you sure that's a real spell? Well, it's not very good, is it? Of course I've only tried a few simple spells myself, and they've all worked for me. For example..."

Hermione goes over and sits across from Hadrian. She points her hand at his clenched fist and Hadrian tenses. "Reparo." The homemade stress ball that Hadrian has been abusing since Ron decided to bother him repaired itself. Hadrian opens his fist showing the result.

"That's better, isn't it? Holy Cricket, you're Harry Potter. I'm Hermione Granger...and you are...?"

"It's Hadrian." He interjects before Ron has even the chance to open his mouth .

Ron, caught chewing his wilting sandwich, opens his full mouth and replies with crumbs spewing forth from the cavernous opening. "I'm...Ron Weasley."

" Pleasure. You two better change into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon." She gets up and leaves, then comes back and looks at Ron. "You've got dirt, on your nose, by the way, did you know? Just there." She points and Ron scratches his nose, embarrassed.

When they finally arrive it is pitch black outside. The train blows its whistle and pulls into an outdoor station. Hagrid walks along the side aisle, with a lantern in his beafy hand. People begin pouring out of the train.

" Right, then! First years! This way, please! Come on, now, don't be shy! Come on now, hurry up!"

Hadrian and Ron walk up to Hagrid, who notices his 'friend' the saviour.

" Hello, Hadrian." At which Ron is left stupefied.

" Hey, Hagrid." Hadrian is, as always, cool and aloof in his response.

" Whoaa!" Is Ron's contribution.

" Right then. This way to the boats! Come on, now, follow me."

Hadrian and Ron continue on as a group, going towards the shore keeping the numerous boats that are to take them to the castle, which can be seen in the distance. People look on in awe and Hadrian just says "Sheep." To which Ron replies with his usual "Wicked."

As they arrive to the castle they mill about in front of the steps leading to the entrance, atop of which their Deputy-Headmistress is waiting with her stern face on. She raps her fingers on a stone railing and then goes on to greet the newcomers.

" Welcome to Hogwarts. Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Now, while you are here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you house points. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup."

Neville, who until now has just been looking around with his scared eyes, jumping at every shadowy corner he saw in his search of his pet, finally spots his toad sitting near McGonagall. He jumps forward.

"Trevor!" Ridiculous name for a toad, that. More suitable for a frog.

McGonagall stares down at him with her gaze of judgment.

"Sorry." Neville says as he backs away. McGonagall, not at all pleased at this point announces,

"The sorting ceremony will begin momentarily." After which she dramatically swooshes her robes and leaves. She must have been taking lessons from a certain potion master.

Draco Malfoy, never one to miss an opportunity, speaks up.

" It's true then, what they're saying on the train. Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts."

Students start to whisper, Harry Potter?

"This is Crabbe, and Goyle" he nods to his two manservants "and I'm Malfoy...Draco Malfoy."

Ron snickers at his name. Hadrian cannot fathom why though, his name is as stupid as any other.

"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours. Red hair, and a hand me down robe? You must be a Weasley. Well soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter. Don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He extends his hand.

Hadrian looks down at it and reluctantly shakes the proffered hand, hoping to God that it's not sweaty, but planning to disinfect it as soon as possible, anyway.

"For the record, my name is Hadrian. Anyone who calls me Harry is considered dead to me from then on, just FYI."

"FYI?"

McGonagall returns and smacks him on the shoulder with a paper, losing him his only chance at learning what FYI means. He retreats with a glare.

"We're ready for you now." Interjects McGonagall, ending any further discourse on the subject of Hadrian's name.

They all enter the castle with one last "Sheep." echoing in the distance behind them.