Disclaimer: I don't own anything from the worlds of Harry Potter or Percy Jackson and I never will.

Beta'd by Tarnished Silver Things

There was an awkward silence as I processed what he had just said. I must have misheard him. Magic doesn't exist, right?

"I'm a what?" I asked, giving Hagrid my what-are-you –talking-about-look.

"A wizard, o' course," Hagrid said, not noticing my look, sitting back down on the sofa which I was surprised didn't break. "and a thumpin' good'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else could yeh be? An' I reckon it's abou' time yeh read yer letter."

I eyed the large man carefully before at last stretching out a hand to take the yellowish letter that was the reason I had been sleeping on the floor. I stared at it for a second, silently unscrambling the green cursive.

Mr. H. Potter
The Floor

Hut-on-the-Rock

The Sea.

The Sea. I liked the sound of that, if only I could always live on the Sea… I slowly pulled a piece of heavy paper from the envelope and, after a few long minutes, was able to read what it said.

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 been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress

A million questions spawned just from that simple letter. I decided to ask the one question that seemed to have a time limit.

I looked directly at Hagrid and asked, "What does that even mean, they await my owl?"

"Gallopin' Gorgons," Hagrid exclaimed. I shuddered at the image the words brought up. "That reminds me." Hagrid clapped his hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a regular human being, and from one of his many pockets he took out an- owl? A real, live, squished looking owl, in fact, and a long quill, and roll of parchment.

With his tongue between his teeth, he scribbled a note that I couldn't even try to read it, just because it was upside down. I wondered what it said.

Hagrid then rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, strangely enough, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. I wondered if that counted as animal abuse. I wasn't sure, as Hagrid just came back and sat down as if what he had done was perfectly normal.

"Where was I?" he asked. It seemed for a moment that he was going to continue, but Uncle Vernon must have found his courage and he moved into the firelight.

"He's not going," he stated slowly, as though Hagrid were a particularly stupid person, and he wanted to make sure he understood what Uncle Vernon was saying. Hagrid just snorted.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like yerself stop him," he said, attempting to muffle his laughter.

"What's that?" I was half hoping it was a new insult that I could insult Dudley with, but I had a feeling it was something totally different.

"Non-magic folk." he said gruffly. "An' it's your bad luck you grew up in a family o' the biggest Muggles I ever laid eyes on." I didn't comment, but I figured he was right - I had some pretty rotten luck most of the time.

"We swore when we took him in that we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Uncle Vernon, "swore we'd stamp it out of him! Wizard indeed!"

"You knew?" I exclaimed, shocked. "You knew that I'm a - a wizard?" I asked, my voice slowly getting higher, "And you never told me?"

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia, stalking away from her corner. "Knew! Of course we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that - that school, and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was – a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family! And then she met that Potter at that school and they left and got married and had you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as – as abnormal – and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and we got landed with you!"

My brain went blank. My parents . . . didn't die in a car crash? But - surely they had? The Dursleys hadn't lied about that on top of everything else, had they? Numbness gave way to anger and I glowered at my aunt. "Blown up? Blown up? You told me they died in a car crash!"

"CAR CRASH!" Hagrid roared, jumping up so angrily that the Dursleys ran back into the protection of their little corner. "How could a car crash kill Lily an' James Potter? It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry Potter not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!"

"But why do they know my name? What happened?" I asked. I had never been a person who wanted attention for my actions, so why did a whole community of people know me?

The anger quickly faded from Hagrid's face and was replaced with something that I could only guess was anxiety.

"I never expected this," he said, in a worried voice. "I had no idea, when Dumbledore told me there might be trouble getting' hold of yeh, how much yeh didn't know. Ah, Harry, I don't know if I'm the right person ter tell yeh – but someone's gotta – yeh can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

He threw a long, dirty look at the Dursleys.

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh – mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it…." I wanted to shout at him to get on with it - what had happened to my parents?!

"It begins, I suppose, with – with a person called – but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows it -"

"Who is it?"

"Well, I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. Nobody does."

"Why not?"

"Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared of him. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went… bad. As bad as you can go. Worse. Even worse than worse. His name was…"

Hagrid's mouth was open, but no words came out.

I was desperate enough to ask, "Could you write it down?"

Hagrid shook his head. "Nah, can't spell it. All right - Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered, as if just that name scared him. "Don't make me say it again. Anyway, this - this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too - some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, Harry. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches... terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him - an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway. Now, yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before... probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em... maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You were just a year old. He came ter yer house an' - an' -"

Hagrid pulled out a dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a noise like a foghorn.

"Sorry, but it's that sad - knew yer mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find - anyway..." Hagrid trailed off, anda smiled slightly. It was nice to hear some praise of my parents after years of hearing how horrible they were from the Dursleys.

"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then - an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing - he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. Ever wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead? That was no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh - took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even - but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age - the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts - an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

As Hagrid's story came to a close, I remembered a dream that I had had when I was younger, a blinding flash of green light, more clearly than I had ever remembered it before – and for the first time ever, I remembered a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid was watching me think that over, with a sad, pitying look on his face.

"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought yeh ter this lot... And that, I'm sorry to yeh for."

"Loads of old tosh," said Uncle Vernon, calling attention to himself. I had almost forgotten that he was in the room. I had almost forgotten about all of the Dursleys, in fact. Uncle Vernon appeared to muster up whatever courage he left in his body, as he glared at Hagrid, and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, boy," he snarled at me, "I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good beating wouldn't have cured –" I glared at him. "– and as for all this about your parents, well, they were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my opinion - asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types - just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end -"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa with amazing speed and drew a battered pink umbrella from inside his coat. Like a sword, he pointed it at Uncle Vernon and said, "I'm warning you, Dursley -I'm warning you - one more word... "

In danger of being speared on the end of an umbrella by a giant, Uncle Vernon's courage failed him yet again; he flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's much better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the sofa.

I still had about a thousand more questions for him.

"But what happened to Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see... he was gettin' more an' more powerful - why'd he go? Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who were on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don reckon they could've done if he was comin' back. Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers, too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on - I dunno what it was, no one does - but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

Hagrid looked at me with warmth and respect in his eyes, but instead of feeling pleased and proud, I felt sure there had been a some sort of mistake. A wizard? Me? How could I possibly be? I'd spent my life being clouted by Dudley, and bullied by Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon; if I really was a wizard, why hadn't something horrible happened to them whenever he was sent to his cupboard? If I'd once defeated the greatest sorcerer in the world, how come Dudley had always been able to kick me around like a football?

"Hagrid," I said quietly, "I think you must have made a mistake. I don't think I can be a wizard."

To my shock, Hagrid just chuckled.

"Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"

I looked straight into the fire. Now that I came to think about it... every odd thing that had ever made my aunt and uncle furious with me had happened when I had been upset or angry... chased by Dudley's gang, I had somehow found myself out of their reach... and so many other unexplained things in my life.

I looked back at Hagrid, newly sure of myself, and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at me.

"See?" said Hagrid, making it obvious that I shouldn't have doubted him for a second. "Harry Potter, not a wizard - you wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."
But somebody in his corner wasn't planning to give in without a fight.

"Haven't I told you a million times that he's not going?" Uncle Vernon hissed. "He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be very grateful for it. I've read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish, spell books and wands and -"

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't be stopping him," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter' s son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an' he'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Albus Dumbled-"

"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Uncle Vernon.

But it quickly became obvious that he had gone way too far. Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head, "NEVER," he thundered, "- INSULT- ALBUS- DUMBLEDOREIN- FRONT- OF- ME!" And I quickly noted that in my head.

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley - there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal, and the next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his fat bottom, howling in pain. When he turned his back on them, I saw a curly pig's tail poking through a hole in his trousers. I couldn't even hold in my laughter.

Uncle Vernon roared. He pulled Aunt Petunia and Dudley into the other room, cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them. And I was extremely grateful to that I wasn't on the other end of the pink umbrella.

Hagrid looked down at his umbrella regretfully and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn't have lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there wasn't much left ter do." Of course there wasn't, it was a well-known fact to anyone who wasn't a Dursley or in Dudley's gang.

He cast a sideways look at me under his bushy eyebrows.

"I'd be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said. "I'm - er - not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff - one o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job."

"Why aren't you supposed to do magic?" I asked, I didn't want to ever be not allowed to use magic personally.

"Oh, well - I was at Hogwarts meself but I - er - got expelled, ter tell yeh the truth. In me third year. They snapped me wand in half an' everything. But Dumbledore let me stay on as gamekeeper. Great man, that Dumbledore."

"Why ever were you expelled?"

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid loudly, not wanting to talk about it. "Gotta get up ter town, get all yer books an' that."
He took off his thick black coat and threw it to me, and I hit the ground under its weight.

"You can sleep under that," he said. "Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple o' dormice in one o' the pockets."

I woke up early the next morning. Even though I could tell it was daytime, I kept my eyes shut tight.

It was a dream, I told myself as firmly as I could manage. I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my not so lovely cupboard.

Suddenly, there was a loud tapping noise.

And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door, I thought, my heart slowly sinking. But I still didn't want to open my eyes. It had been the best dream.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"All right, all right," I mumbled, "I'm getting up."

I sat up and felt Hagrid's heavy coat fall off of me. The shack was absolutely beaming with sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, completely happy. I went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who still didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.

I tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it just snapped its sharp beak at me and carried on savagely attacking the coat.

"Hagrid!" I shouted. "There's an owl here."

"Pay him," Hagrid grunted, muffled by the sofa.

"What?"

"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets."

Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets, I found keys, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags… finally, I pulled out a handful of the oddest looking coins.

"Give him five Knuts," Hagrid muttered sleepily. What are those?

"Knuts?"

"The little bronze ones." Oh.

I counted out five of the little bronze coins, and the owl held out its leg so that I could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. As soon as I dumped in the money, it flew off through the open window. The Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.

"Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."

"Um - Hagrid?"

"Mm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.

"But I haven't got any money - and you heard Uncle Vernon last night ... he won't be paying for me to go and learn magic."

"Don't worry about that," Hagrid said, standing up and scratching his head. "Did yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"

"But I thought their house was destroyed -"

"They didn' keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold - an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither."

"Wizards have banks?"

"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."

"Goblins?" Like the ones from-

But Hagrid cut my thoughts off, "Yeah - so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe - 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly, "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you, gettin' things from Gringotts - knows he can trust me, see. Got everythin'? Come on, then."

I followed Hagrid out onto the rock. The sky was so much clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight, captivating my sight for a second. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.

"How did you get here?" I asked, not seeing any other boats.

"Flew," Hagrid stated as if it was normal.

"Flew?" If only there had been a mirror, I would have loved to see the look on my face.

"Yeah - but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh." He pointed to the boat that Uncle Vernon had invented.

We settled down in the boat, and I was still staring at Hagrid, trying as hard as I could to imagine him flying.

"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving me another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter - er - speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"

"Of course I won't," I said, excited to see some more magic. Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and we sped off toward land.

"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" I asked while staring at the water to the side of me.

"Spells - enchantments," Hagrid said, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there's dragons guardin' the high security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way - Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."

Harry sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Harry had learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, he'd never had so many questions in his life.

I sat and thought about that while Hagrid read his newspaper, the Daily Prophet. I had learned from many unfortunate experiences with Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while they did this, so I focused on the waves, and if it wasn't my imagination, they were moving in whatever way he thought of the moving…

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, pulling me out of my trance.

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" I asked, before I could stop myself.

"'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o ' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."

"But what does the Ministry of Magic do?"

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there are still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

"Why?"

"Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone." True, true, very true.

At that moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and we clambered up the stone steps onto the street.
Passersby stared a lot at Hagrid as we walked through the little town to the station. And I couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Harry? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"

"Hagrid," I asked, panting a bit as I ran to keep up, "did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?"

"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."

"You'd like one? Wouldn't it be a little, what's the word, destructive?"

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid - here we go."

We had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle money," as he called it, gave the bills to me so that I could buy our tickets.

People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.

"Still got yer letter, Harry?" he asked as he counted stitches. I took the parchment envelope out of my pocket.

"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need."

I unfolded a second piece of paper that I hadn't noticed the night before, and after a couple minutes of deciphering it, read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
Wand
Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) set
Glass or crystal phials
Telescope set
Brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Can we buy all this in London?" I asked Hagrid, as I had started to expect the unexpected of the wizarding world.

"If yeh know where to go," He said, before going back to his knitting.
I had never been to London before, and even though Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he obviously wasn't used to getting there the normal way. He had gotten stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and had complained loudly that the seats were way too small and that the train was way too slow.

"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said as we climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with many shops.
Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all I had to do was keep close behind him. We passed book shops and music stores, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath us? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks?

"This is it," said Hagrid, suddenly coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."

But it didn't look like a famous place. It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, I wouldn't even had noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't even bother to glance at it, as a matter of fact, their eyes just slid from the book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see it. I had a peculiar feeling that they couldn't see it. But before I could mention that, Hagrid steered me inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking out of tiny glasses. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter suddenly stopped as soon as they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on my shoulder and making me shake from the force behind it.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, giving me a look that suddenly made me very self-conscious, "is this - can this be -?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent making me feel even more self-conscious.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter... what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward me and seized my hand, tears in his eyes.

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

I had no idea what to say. Everyone was looking at me. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming.

There was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, I found myself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron, trying not to be rude.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand - I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

I shook hands again and again - Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping my hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p- pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" I asked curiously.

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep me to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last after taking way too much time, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"Must get on - lots ter buy. Come on, Harry."

Doris Crockford shook my hand one last time, and Hagrid led us through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.

Hagrid turned and grinned at me.

"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh - mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that nervous?" I didn't want to make people nervous just because I was standing there.

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag - never been the same since.
Scared of the students, scared of his own subject now, where's me umbrella?"

Vampires? Hags? And Hagrid was, curiously enough, counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.

"Three up... two across he muttered. Right, stand back, Harry."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick he had touched quivered - it wriggled - in the middle, a small hole appeared - it grew wider and wider - a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome, to Diagon Alley."

A/N:

I hope you liked the chapter! Let me know what you thought!