AN:I'm back! Thanks so much for all the reviews, they really help me improve my story. For all those who asked about Sirius, he unfortunately will not be involved in Harry's pre-Hogwarts life. In order for James and Lily to effectively fake their deaths on such short notice, they could risk telling no one lest Dumbledore finds out. Also, I believe that now Harry would be unsure of how to contact him.

Disclaimer:Any characters you see in this story besides my own OCs belong to the one and only J.K. Rowling.

Hidden in Hogwarts: Chapter 3

Two years had now passed since that fateful day. Never had Harry discovered what had become of his parents, be they alive or dead. With the rest of the Wizarding world believing him to be dead, Harry could risk no contact with any of his parents' old friends. Therefore, he had no other option other than to raise himself and Em alone, with the assistance of the few house elves that still resided in the manor. He had been teaching himself what Mum and Dad hadn't had the time to, with the guidance of the expansive Potter library to back him up.

Harry sighed and slammed the book in front of him closed, something about the Goblin War of 1658. The sounds of Em's crying had been filtering through the library door for nearly an hour now, and it was proving impossible to focus. Placing the battered book back onto its shelf, he exited the library to check up on his baby sister. With himself at such a young age, he had started off with next to no knowledge on how to raise her. However, after several long research sessions and an uncanny amount of trial-and-error, he believed himself to have gotten the hang of it.

Em lay crying in her crib, and Harry reluctantly picked her up and placed her on his hip. He took his role very seriously, showing wisdom beyond his years, and had become extremely protective over his little sister, but sometimes her antics could become highly annoying during his sessions in the library. Taking her down to the kitchen, he prepared her some food in what had now become a familiar routine. The minute he sat down, Harry heard a light tapping at the window. Curious, he wandered over to see what it was. A large brown barn-owl stood on the windowsill, a letter clutched tightly in its claws. Harry immediately opened the window wide, pondering over the contents of the letter. The owl flew in swiftly, depositing the letter on the small table before returning through the window.

Harry cautiously began to break the unfamiliar wax seal of the letter. To his shock, the contents read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find

enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later

than 31 July.

Yours Sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy headmistress

With all the events that had occurred recently, Harry had completely forgotten that today was 31 July- his birthday! His parents had never wanted him to go to Hogwarts, and for him to remain 'dead' to the Wizarding world- and therefore immune to the prophesy. However, after his parent's assumed death, he had always known he would be required to attend. The reason that the letter had been delivered to a 'dead' student was because they were automated- Hogwarts herself sent them out to all that were capable of performing magic. Once she sensed Harry's magic, a letter had been automatically sent out to him.

Harry considered his reply for a moment, before quickly scribbling down his answer and sending it off with Hedwig. He had always wanted to visit the school his parents had sways spoken so fondly of.

His parents. The word alone left him feeling hollow and melancholy. The mystery of their disappearance had never been resolved, but he assumed the worst. What else could have happened besides their deaths? He was determined to raise Em as he himself had been raised, and therefore how his parents would have wanted. It filled him with sorrow that he had to go against their wishes in going to Hogwarts, but he knew that it was required. It was the only way for him to gain an official education, which he could then pass on to Em.

And so, he began planning for his arrival at Hogwarts.

XxXxXxXxXx

It was the 31 August, the last day before Harry's arrival at Hogwarts. Harry was currently weaving through the overcrowded streets of Diagon Alley, attempting to find the shops in which he could purchase the required reading material for his first year at Hogwarts. Em sat, disillusioned, on his hip. Harry had decided against leaving her at the Manor alone with the House Elves, instead opting to bring her with him.

Even though most of the books on the list Harry had already read, he decided that he might as well invest in a new set, since those in the Potter library were rather old. However, he also had another motive for being in Diagon Alley that day.

Harry had known all along that Albus Dumbledore must not be made aware of Em's existence, lest she fall prey to his manipulations. Therefore, to maintain his ignorance, he needed to invest in some affective ways to hide her. His father's invisibility cloak was all well and good, but there was always the off chance that it slip off and reveal her.

Harry glanced at the list that was clutched in his hands, reading the first item on the list. An owl. Well, he had Hedwig for that, so he could check that off the list. Next was a wand.

He scanned over the heads of the crowd for Ollivander's, eventually locating it where it resided at the end of the busy street. As he made his way through the hoards of people, he almost laughed at how easy it was to spot the muggle-borns. Their faces were lit up with awe and fascination at the wide variety of things to buy: self-stirring cauldrons, talking mirrors, glanceable our hats, and many other items. To Harry, though, it was just another day in the life.

A light tinkle of a bell rang through the store as Harry opened the oak door. He stood in front of the ancient desk and examined the rows upon rows of wands that decorated the high shelves on the walls. The room was cluttered with various inconsequential items, including a large pile of books seated upon the desk. Harry began to read the titles of those that he could see.

"Ah! Another first year? A muggle-born, I presume?"

Harry almost jumped out of his skin at the sudden noice, and he looked up hastily to see Olivander himself standing behind the desk.

"Uh, yeah. My name's Joseph Clark." Harry had already decided that he would need a different name for his visit to the wand store, since Olivander was a close acquaintance of Dumbledore. There was a high chance of him reporting back to the headmaster, what with him supposedly dead. Better to be safe than sorry, right?

"Okay, Joseph. And which arm is your wand arm?"

Harry held out his right arm, and Olivander immediately began to take measurements with his magical tape measure. Once happy with the result, he plucked a seemingly random box from one of the shelves and handed the wand within to Harry. Waving it slightly, a glass on the table suddenly shattered. Harry hastily handed the wand back to the wand-maker. Olivander handed him another wand. Harry waved it, which ended with a similar result.

This pattern continued for a long while, with Olivander growing more and more animated with each try. It seemed that he enjoyed the good challenge. Harry, on the other hand, was getting rather bored.

After about twenty minutes had passed with still no result and the store in an even larger sense of untidiness, Olivander paused in his searching, hesitating slightly over one wand in particular.

"I wonder..."

Immediately regaining his former vigour, Olivander handed yet another wand to Harry. However, this time, when the wand entered his grasp, a warm breeze spread throughout the store.

"It seems, Mr Clark, that this wand has chosen you. Holly and Phoenix feather. The wizard with the brother core to this wand... terrible things, he did. Great, but terrible. It seems that we will be keeping an eye on what to expect from you in the future. Use your wand wisely."

Harry was unsure of how to react to this statement. Surely he didn't mean that the brother to his wand was Voldemort? And who was the ominous 'we' that Olivander had mentioned?

"How much for the wand, sir?"

Olivander seemed to jump out of his stupor. "Ah yes, that will be eight galleons please Mr Clark."

Harry handed the corresponding amount and hurried out of the shop, bidding farewell to the batty wand-maker.

XxXxXxXxXx

Albus Dumbledore, the current headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was sat at his desk when the floor suddenly turned green.

"Hello, Albus?" called a familiar voice.

"Olivander, old friend! Do come in," Dumbledore greeted merrily, trying to remember if he had organised a meeting with the wand-maker.

Stepping out of the fireplace, Olivander studied the room around the pair, ensuring that they were alone.

"I have come with news regarding a muggle-born student who is to be entering Hogwarts among the first-years, by the name of Joseph Clark."

"Oh? And what might that be?"

"Said student entered my store earlier this day, and it was just that I wished to inform you of his wand type. Holly and Phoenix feather, as given by Fawkes here," Olivander began, gesturing towards said Phoenix, "coincidentally, the brother wand to the DarkLord himself. Just thought you would like to know." And with that, he left.

Dumbledore leaned back on his chair, running this new information through his brain. He sincerely hoped that Britain wouldn't have another Dark Lord on the rise. One was quite enough.