Author's Note:

Thank you all so much for your support. Once again, it has been overwhelming, and you all have made my day.

I edited the Prologue. It's nothing major, but a lovely reviewer—Sakura Lisel—pointed out that if Dumbledore was there to deliver Harry in person, the Dursleys could have just refused to take him. The prologue now features a Dumbledore who uses too many compulsion charms for his own good. The review also made me think of the unfortunate presence of Petunia in this chapter. I hope you like the result. :D

Also, please forgive my Americanisms (or Canadianisms, I guess). I'm not even going to try using British slang and spelling, because I know for certain I'd make a fool of myself. Sorry.

I just want to warn you now, I definitely won't be able to keep up with this updating schedule, especially when September hits (and hit it will, trust me). I'll do my best, but it all depends on both how much time I have and how much I'm enjoying my own story. I have it planned out mostly, but if I write myself into a corner I'll be very disappointed with myself.

See you at the bottom. If there's one author's note per chapter you should read, it will be that one.

Chapter Two

Several hours later found Minerva McGonagall sorting through the first few responses to the first years' Hogwarts letters. As Deputy Headmistress, she took her duty of making sure all incoming students were accounted for very seriously. She hand-delivered the letters to the new muggleborns, which gave her the opportunity to make sure the family was accepting of their child's newly explained abilities. She also read all the replies to the acceptance letters very carefully to make sure that each child, and in particular each orphan or half-blood, would be able to attend and retrieve all their school supplies. The war had created a lot of orphans, so in the last fifteen years in particular her job had been made a little more difficult.

This year however, the Hogwarts Transfiguration professor was anxiously awaiting one reply in particular. Harry Potter was due to start Hogwarts this year, and Minerva confessed herself extremely curious about the Boy Who Lived. She'd been there when Albus Dumbledore had delivered the babe to the last remaining relatives he had. She recalled being vaguely concerned about the type of upbringing he would have, but Albus had assured her that it was for the best, and who was she to argue with Albus? She hadn't thought about their young savior much since that night, but now she wondered if they had indeed done the right thing.

However, the time for wondering was over. The next letter the Deputy Headmistress picked up had Harry Potter's name messily scrawled across it, and she opened it eagerly.

She should have expected something like this, Minerva thought once she put the letter down. His aunt knew enough about the wizarding world, her own sister being a witch, and by the looks of things she'd shared none of it with her nephew. Well, Minerva decided, he was expecting a reply, but she would do him one better.

Sure enough, two weeks later found her standing on the doorstep of number four Privet Drive.

Minerva knocked, and the door soon opened to show a tall blond woman. As soon as her eyes fell on the witch in front of her, the woman's inviting smile soured. "yes?" Petunia was nothing like her sister, Minerva recalled.

"I'm looking for Harry Potter?"

Petunia called the boy in question over her shoulder, then stepped back wordlessly and ushered the older woman in.

As soon as the door shut behind the Transfiguration professor, the panicked tension in Petunia's shoulders let go a little. Hopefully the neighbors hadn't seen this strange woman calling on her perfectly normal family.

After a few moments of awkward silence, the young Potter boy descended the stairs. Upon seeing Minerva, his eyes grew wide and a dazzling smile split his face. "Minerva McGonagall?" he asked eagerly.

Inside, Harry Potter cringed. He was going to get tired of this innocent, trusting persona very quickly. He'd decided to create it after seeing the memory of Tom's not-so-smooth introduction to the Wizarding world. But he might have just ruined things, and he hadn't even made it to Hogwarts yet. He wasn't technically supposed to know the woman, but he recognized her from Tom's memories. He hadn't expected her to actually visit. He hoped she'd justify his slip-up to herself somehow.

Luckily for him, the stern woman didn't think anything was out of place. She gave him a nod and a rare smile. "You replied to the Hogwarts acceptance letter, did you not, Mr. Potter?"

At his nod, she continued, "I decided it would be easier for me to explain things to you in person. Clearly," she shot a tight-lipped glare toward Petunia, "your family has not educated you as they should have. You were aware that you are a wizard?"

"Yes ma'am," Harry said, ducking his head shyly. "I guessed, I mean. Strange things always happen around me when I get upset." He suppressed a smirk as he saw Petunia's cringe out of the corner of his eye. "I wasn't sure if this was actually real, but I figured there'd be no harm in replying, at least."

"Indeed," the professor responded. "If you are agreeable, Mr. Potter, I can take you to purchase your supplies now."

Another face-splitting grin. "Yeah, that'd be great! But … I don't have any money," he added with a frown. This was a bit of a test. Surely his parents had left him an inheritance?

Minerva explained that they had indeed left him everything, including a school fund. She then went on to explain how the Potters were a rich Pureblood family, but he wouldn't be able to touch most of the money and heirlooms until he was of age. He'd known most of this, but he hadn't known what had happened to the money after his parents' deaths.

This was news to Petunia though, Harry realized, as her eyes widened slightly. Harry regretted asking with her present. He'd have to do something much more drastic to avoid funneling the majority of his inheritance to his relatives. He'd have to use Tom's methods, he thought with a frown, but it would only be this once.

"Before you go," the professor said hesitantly, "there is something you should know. How much have you been told about your parents?"

At this, Harry flashed a look filled with hidden venom at his aunt. He turned back to the stern woman and said monotonously, "they were a pair of no-good drunks who died in a car crash."

Minerva had never been so shocked and appalled in her life. The Potters—a CAR CRASH?! "that's utterly ridiculous!" she spat immediately. She turned to Harry's aunt, who looked a mixture of indignant and guilty. Without waiting for an explanation, her wand appeared out of nowhere and suddenly a duck sat where Petunia had been standing. The words she was about to say came out as an indignant quack.

Harry struggled to keep the taken aback look on his face, but inside he was dying of laughter. Finally that no-good, lying gossip had been put in her place.

Upon seeing Potter's expression, she worked to calm herself before continuing. Her second attempt was not much more tame, however. "No, Mr. Potter, your parents certainly did not die in a car crash." She shot another look at the young savior's aunt turned duck, who still managed to look indignant. "In fact, they were two of the finest students I ever had. They were great wizards. However…" Here she launched into a haunting story of the Wizarding war that had ended abruptly with his parents' deaths and Lord Voldemort's vanquishing. She would not speak the name of that Dark Lord, however. Harry tuned her out, having first-hand knowledge of how horrible it had been. The worst part, in Harry's opinion, is that Tom hadn't accomplished much from it either. The army he'd chosen to fight had been made up of people who had inadvertently made a mess of things. It was a different mess than the Wizarding world had started off with, but it was still a mess.

"And that is why you are known as the Boy who Lived," the stern woman finally concluded.

"Professor…" Harry bit his lip. "the Dark Lord—He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—what did you say his actual name is?" He asked this as innocently as possible, but his motives were anything but. Truthfully, Harry just wanted to see how the unflappable professor reacted in the face of undeniable power.

The duck gave another indignant quack from the floor, this time more insistent. It went ignored.

"Goodness, child!" Minerva put a hand to her heart. "We never speak his name. Not when doing so back then meant certain death."

"But he's gone now, isn't he?" Harry asked with a pleading look, wide eyes and all.

"Ye-es," Minerva hesitated. "Oh, all right," she gave in. Leaning forward slightly, she whispered, "he was called Lord V-Vol-Voldemort." She shuddered and looked all around her, as if expecting the Snatchers to suddenly appear as they had so many years ago. When nothing happened, she let out a long breath. The only thing she saw was Vernon's car pulling into the driveway. Harry suppressed a grin.

"well, I hope you're satisfied. Are you ready then, Mr. Potter?" Professor McGonagall asked, holding out a hand. Harry nodded and took a hold.

"Now, this will be somewhat disorienting. It is called apparation, and it is one of three common ways for Wizards to travel long distances. On three? One, two…"

Suddenly, there was a loud pop, and Harry was being compressed from all sides and pulled through a tube and being turned inside out and spinning—

And then it was over as quickly as it had begun, and Harry stood panting and wheezing in the aftermath.

"Welcome," the stern woman announced, "to Diagon Alley."

Author's Note:

Yes, a duck. I don't know why… it was the first thing that came to my mind, and it gave me a rather satisfying image. So there. :P

Harry calls Professor McGonagall Minerva in his mind because that's what Tom knew her as. Hopefully he doesn't call her that to her face… :P

I'm not covering the shopping, sorry. If you want to see it, you could go read just about every other similar fic out there.

I hope I'm explaining my Harry properly. We'll see more of Tom's influences in later chapters. I can't go revealing all at once now, can I? But perhaps something to think about: Tom was intelligent, studious, and ambitious. How much of this, if any, has rubbed off on Harry?