Harry Potter and the Secrets of the Stars


Note: this is going to be a modern AU, with 2020-ish technology (although no COVID). In part because I don't feel like all that research, and also because I think modern tech and magic is fun. I really hope someone else hasn't done this whole space thing already.

Also, the Harry I've created is pretty different from canon- he takes after me in a lot of ways, honestly. My passion for space in particular. I'm reflecting this in a different wand wood, among other things. The same core, of course, but a different wood to reflect different goals.


Harry Potter had always been fascinated by the stars. For years and years, looking up at the sky was a way to forget about Privet Drive for a while, and it was so easy to just look up and leave the world behind. The stars were so far above everything, and the Dursleys couldn't just take them away. Sure, they could lock him away in the closet under the stairs, but eventually, after a few particularly long punishments the roof itself seemed to fade away to show the stars- all around the clock. It could block the rain and snow, but it always showed the stars. Climbing up the stairwell, the stairs were still opaque and should have blocked the sky if the roof didn't. Strange.

Eventually, Harry started going to school, and about stars, how they were great burning balls of gas in space, and how they were girdled by planets, planets just like Earth! Wouldn't it be amazing to just leave Earth behind, abandon the Dursleys, Dudley's friends, the students who ignored him and just fly away? Live on some distant world, where the lights of the cities didn't block the stars, where he could do what he pleased and eat his fill every day before falling asleep under the sky…

Learning that the other planets were too dangerous to live on, thick with deadly clouds or completely lacking in any air to breath, and were too far away to reach without months of travel through the depths of space… that was a disappointment, but it didn't dampen his enthusiasm. The Americans had sent men to the moon, Armstrong and Collins, and probes had been sent to many other planets.

Harry learned quickly that the best way to avoid more beatings than usual was to play down his knowledge, score lower than Dudley. Of course, he wasn't going to leave something like that up to chance- he made sure he knew the answers, so he could just enough wrong. He supposed that he could just completely flunk himself and guess randomly (which wasn't too much better than Dudley's academic endeavors in all honesty) but Harry's dignity meant he felt obligated to try, and the Dursleys never noticed that he was always, consistently, a few points below Dudley's average. At the very least, Dudley-kins was predictably lackluster.

Before Harry realized that playing down his talents was in his best interests, teachers were encouraging him, and afterwards it was complaining about his wasted talent. At least the librarian tolerated him, although Harry wasn't stupid enough to check out any of the books to bring home. Even then, Harry stayed as late in the library as he dared, consuming every book he could get his hands on, and the librarian was happy to accommodate him.

He read and read and read. Books of course, retelling the trials and tribulations of the old missions- Mercury, Gemini, and of course all of Apollo- from the deadly conflagration in Apollo 1 to cooperation with the Soviets during Apollo-Soyuz, but he also read newspapers about more modern missions.

Of course, realizing that one of the greatest triumphs of human spaceflight was half a century in the past was depressing, along with the simple fact that nothing had happened since then. The logical next step was Mars, but other than some rovers… nothing. It was frustrating, knowing that nothing was done, in the same way Harry couldn't change the circumstances of his life with the Dursleys. Of course, he hoped to change both of these things in the future. He was sure that if he could just get out of Privet Drive, he could really show the world what was he was capable of… and of course, he did eventually get out of Privet Drive around the time of his eleventh birthday, although he certainly wasn't expecting it.


A week before his birthday, things seemed fairly normal, and Harry was a little excited- he was considering treating himself by staying as late as he could in the library. Of course, he knew better than to expect any gifts from the Dursleys, and the summer holidays meant he had to take the long walk to the public library as opposed to the school's. Of course, he didn't have a card for the public one, but it was a much better way to spend the day than fleeing from Dudley and his pals- they seemed allergic to the place.

The library at Smeltings may have been pretty good- it was a fancy private school, after all- and Harry was disappointed that Dudley would inevitably waste it. If they had a library at all, that is. Maybe they spent the budget on Smeltings sticks instead.

Of course, Harry didn't expect much from the world as of yet. All he had ever received was Dudley's scraps, and that was enough; however, the letter addressed to one Mr. H Potter in the Cupboard under the Stairs still filled him with excitement. Something, anything for him- and what a letter it was, in a thick, old fashioned envelope with an intricate wax seal on its back.

Harry was almost tempted to hide it away- maybe shove it under his hand-me-downs, which definitely baggy enough to hide it- when Dudley spoke up. "Dad! Dad, Harry's got something!" Vernon reacted with remarkable speed for his bulk, snatching the letter from Harry's hands, and alarm bells started ringing in Harry's head as Vernon's expression grew very concerning.

Eventually, Harry and Dudley were booted out of the kitchen as Vernon and Petunia spoke in hushed tones, about people watching them, and stamping something out. Of course, this started Harry wondering- what were they stamping out, and who would be watching them?

These answers came a lot sooner than he expected.


Harry's move to the second bedroom was alright, he supposed, although he definitely missed the starlight that came through the strange, starry panorama that had appeared on the closet's roof. There was something up with that, something supernatural, but the Dursleys never took notice- they tried their best to ignore him and his closet. Thank goodness for that- the Dursleys hated anything that even hinted of the supernatural or magic. The window really wasn't the same, but it wouldn't provoke a beating if Harry was discovered staring through it, so that was something.

The room was full of stuff that Dudley had discarded, broken toys, technology, and gadgets that had piqued Dudley's interest until he inevitably managed to break them. Perhaps break was a strong word, considering that Dudley tended to drop them the moment they started giving him any issues, or once the newer version came out the next year. With a bit of finagling, Harry could get one of the old computers working maybe, or repair one of the old devices?

Those were projects for the future, though- Harry was more interested in the books, which remained untouched. Dudley had gone through many phases and different interests, and as such the books covered a variety of subjects, even if only a few were nonfiction. Of those books, even fewer were useful to Harry, considering what he already knew, considering that they were written for young(er) children.

He supposed he could have stayed up late torturing himself about what was inside that letter, but he figured that if it was important enough to send such a fancy envelope, it was important enough for the mysterious sender to follow up if he didn't respond. So he decided to read some of Dudley's books- it was a better way to spend the night than worrying.


The next two days yielded letters, although Harry didn't get a chance to read them thanks to Vernon, so he kept on reading. No use in wasting time pondering or brooding, after all.

Afterwards, the next few days saw the letters arriving in mass, dozens of them jammed into any openin the house had left. At first things were fairly rational, jammed into the gap between the front door and its frame, but the third day saw a fusillade of letters pouring down the chimney, which finally caused Vernon to snap.

Harry figured that if the letters came down the chimney they would probably follow him anywhere, but he didn't bring that up to Vernon before packing to go.

And the letters proved him right when they arrived in droves at little hotel Vernon had driven to in a desperate attempt to escape. After that, he tried to flee further, even going out to sea in an attempt to get away from the storm of stationery. Maybe he was hoping the miserable weather would scare off whoever or whatever was bringing the mail to them- and Harry did have to admit that in better circumstances, a birthday trip to an isolated island would be fun.

Of course, a fun island would be near the equator, warm and sunny, instead of being little more than damp rock that peaked out from the churning gray sea. Vacationers probably wouldn't enjoy the intense stench of seaweed that leaked through the gaps in the hut's aging wood. Their fancy cuisine were some stale chips and a few old bananas, but Vernon was very cheerful, clearly proud of outwitting Harry's mysterious correspondent.

A ferocious storm starting during the night, thundering rumbling in time with Harry's stomach, and as Dudley's watch ticked closer and closer to midnight, Harry had to wonder if tomorrow would take the record for his worst birthday ever- when he heard a knock at the door.


The knocking was tremendously loud- Harry could hear Dudley murmuring faintly about a cannon- and Vernon come charging out, a rifle in his hands. "Who's there? I'm warning you, I'm armed!"

The door was knocked off its hinges and sent falling to floor as a goliath of a man entered the building, his great black mane brushing the ceiling as he crouched inside the tiny hut. With remarkable ease, he turned and reattached the door to its frame before addressing Vernon.

"Could'ja make us a cup o' tea? It's not been an easy journey…" he walked (as much as a man his size could walk while in a house so much larger than him) over to Dudley. "Budge up, yeh great lump."

Harry decided that this was probably going to be his best birthday yet, especially when the man pulled out a cake (that was, admittedly, squashed) and sausages. The man seemed familiar with Harry, but Harry wasn't familiar with the man. He seemed amicable enough, so Harry looked up at the man and started asking questions. "I'm sorry… but who are you, exactly?'

"Call me Hagrid, everyone does. I'm Keeper of the Keys at Hogwarts- yeh know all about it, right?" Harry didn't- and that infuriated him. He could admit that he wouldn't know everything, of course, but Harry was struck with the feeling of missing something vital, something attached to the letters, whoever was watching them, whatever the Dursleys were trying to stamp out.

Harry cringed, but continued. "Er- Hogwarts?"

Hagrid froze. "Yeh don't know about Hogwarts? I knew yeh weren't getting' yer letters, but I never thought yeh wouldn't have heard of Hogwarts! Where did yeh think yer parents learned it all?"

"All… what?"

The man leapt to his feet, nearly knocking his head against the roof of the ramshackle hut; although Harry honestly thought that the hut would give way before this giant did. He turned to Vernon, who was cowering against the wall. "Yeh never told him about anything? Our world… his parents world?"

"My parents world?" Of course, Hagrid can't have been talking about another planet, so he had to have been talking about some kind of… secret society, maybe?

Hagrid grew red and sent a glare Vernon's way. "But yeh gotta know about yer mum and dad- they're famous, you're famous."

"My parents… I barely know anything."

"Yeh don't know? Know what yeh are?"

Harry gulped, this was the moment of truth. "What am I?"

Vernon, found his voice and tried to stop Hagrid from giving him his answer- the answer. "Stop! I forbid you! Don't tell the boy a thing!"

"Yeh didn't tell him what was in Dumbledore's-" Okay, who was Dumbledore "-letter? I saw him put that letter on yer doorstep! And yeh hid it for all these years?"

Harry was almost tempted to jump in, but decided not to as Vernon prepared another one of his trademark witty comebacks. "NO! I forbid you! I've spent more than a decade keeping that wickedness out of my home-"

Hagrid sighed in disappoint before turning to Harry, crouching low to look him in the eyes, suddenly becoming a far more gentle giant. "Yer a wizard, Harry."

"What?" No way, the man couldn't be telling the truth, no way there were actually-

"A wizard, and I'd wager a pretty darn good one, once yeh get some learnin' in yeh. With parents like yours…" He gave Harry a letter, just the same as the dozens that had flooded the home on Privet Drive, and with shaking fingers Harry worked the yellow parchment of the envelope open, the brilliant green ink assuring him that yes, this letter was for him.


What followed next was a bit of a blur, Hagrid pulling out an actual, bona fide owl from his coat to send a letter to this Dumbledore, a man with no shortage of titles, the most important of which to Harry was Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Presumably he'd be in the man's care for the coming school year- Harry hoped he wouldn't be too busy with his other roles to keep an eye on the school. Clearly, Hagrid loved the man, and zealously defended his reputation- with magic!

This was followed up by the massive shock of learning about the truth of his parent's deaths, and this mysterious Voldemort, more commonly known as You-Know-Who who attempted to kill him but for some reason failed, and was possibly dead? This was all raising more questions than answers, but Harry's confusion had rapidly morphed into eager excitement. Actual magic- imagine that! Did magic work in space? Could you use to teleport between planets? Were there wizard cities on the moon?

The next day Hagrid was going to bring him to Diagon Alley, to go shopping. Unfortunately, Harry probably wouldn't have enough money to get all the supplies he needed, or to indulge into research on space, but he was determined now. Without having to sink his grades below Dudley's, he was sure he could succeed in this wizarding world, not to mention his apparent fame. Getting to space would only be a matter of time.


After an introduction to the curious wizarding custom of post owls (couldn't you just… magic stuff to places, cut out the middlebird?) they prepared for a trip to Diagon Alley- to go shopping with money acquired from his vault. His vault in the goblin bank, who were apparently real creatures who actually existed.

Hagrid used some magic to speed their boat to the shore, and they were off- Hagrid gave him a few more pieces of information about the wizarding world, like their governing body, the Ministry of Magic, whose main focus was keeping magic hidden. Keeping magic hidden because you were lazy and didn't want to help the muggles was a bit of a bad look, but he wondered if they indulged in big projects like the muggle governments did.

After coming ashore, they traveled by train, and Hagrid started to knit as Harry studied the list of supplies they would be buying shortly. A very wizardly sounding uniform complete with a pointed hat, a long list of books (Harry was shaking with excitement when it came to that), and a great mix of other equipment: a wand, a cauldron, glass phials, scales… and a telescope set. Harry smiled big at that.

They walked through the bustling streets of London, great masses of people on their phones- which Hagrid dismissed as "some muggle device" without a second thought- until they eventually reached a pub, the Leaky Cauldron.


Getting mobbed at the Leaky Cauldron wasn't a great experience, but Diagon Alley was worth it. There was so much to see- stores full of more cauldron types than he could possibly imagine, sellers hawking body parts from creatures both magical and mundane, broomsticks, books, and quills- and the bank was beautiful, a towering building as white as the clouds with a great bronze door. The promise of money that could let him stand on his own, as well as some sort of connection to his parents… the gleaming bronze of those doors were practically the pearly gates.

Hundreds of goblins worked, taking records in their ledgers or examining gleaming coins and gems. Hagrid walked up to one of the tellers and greeted him. "Morning. We've come to take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe."

"You have his key, sir?" Harry snapped out of his daze. His key? Just who was running his account?

"Got it somewhere." Hagrid grumbled, digging through his pockets as he dropped old dog biscuits all over the pristine marble floor. Harry was half expecting an owl or some other creature to pop out of the coat, but eventually he fished out a tiny golden key. The goblin examined it as keenly as Harry did, and he couldn't help but wonder who exactly was in charge of his accounts- and why did they give the key to Hagrid?

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore." Somehow, Hagrid managed to both puff up with pride and sink low, as if he was telling the goblin a secret. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

Harry could practically sense the capitalization in that "You-Know-What" and he had to wonder why wizards were so fond of describing things in the most round about way possible. The goblin analyzed the letter, and apparently it met his standards. He called over another goblin named Griphook, who led Harry and Hagrid deeper into the bank.

He almost wanted to ask Hagrid about the mystery item in vault seven hundred and thirteen, but he supposed that the man probably wasn't going to spill any secrets that Dumbledore insisted he keep. So Harry tried to soak in the bank- would the goblins let him look at the details of his accounts? Admittedly, he didn't have much experience with budgeting, but especially considering how expensive several of his future plans might be he needed to manage his parent's legacy well.

The minecart ride was incredibly fast and jerked from side to side without being steered by Griphook, and Harry suddenly wondered if you could enchant a car to drive itself- did wizards use cars? There weren't any in Diagon Alley…

Eventually the cart came to a shrieking halt in a wide cavern which had a collection of doors on its walls. As Hagrid rested against one of the walls, Harry looked to his goblin guide. "So, Mr. Griphook, which one of these doors is my vault?"

The goblin chuckled. "All of them are your vaults, Mr Potter. However, for now the only vault you can open is your trust vault, which should prove more than sufficient to provide for your schooling. When you reach adulthood at seventeen you can access the rest."

Harry was excited now. "Even if I can't open the other vaults, what sort of stuff is inside? Family heirlooms, ancient tomes?"

"The other vaults store the majority of your liquid assets, in addition to some particular heirlooms. The majority of those… 'ancient tomes' would be found in Potter Manor's library."

Potter Manor? He had properties too? Harry was practically shaking with excitement when Griphook unlocked the smallest of the doors, and Harry stepped inside to see great mounds of gleaming gold and silver coins as a grin broke out on his face.

Hagrid had apparently recovered enough to help Harry shovel some of his newly discovered riches into a bag, and he also explained conversion rates. "The golden ones are Galleons, the silver ones are Sickles, the bronze ones are Knuts. Twenty nine knuts to the sickle and seventeen sickles to the galleon." Hagrid turned to Griphook. "Could we go to vault seven hundred and thirteen now? Maybe… a little slower?"

Griphook gave him a fierce smile. "One speed only." Hagrid groaned, and Harry started wondering. He didn't know the prices of gold and silver off the top of his head, but that seventeen to one ratio sounded… off.

"Mr. Griphook, are all these coins pure gold and silver?"

The goblin seemed offended at that, and Harry flushed. Accusing the goblins of financial shenanigans would not be a good look. "Of course, Mr. Potter."

"Do you mint the coins here? If a wizard brought you pure silver or gold, could you process it into coins?"

"Yes, for a fee." Harry wondered if the magical world had alchemists, and if you could just magic up some gold and have it made into galleons. However, that would probably ruin the economy...

Speaking of ruining the economy… "And do you convert between muggle and magical currencies?"

The goblin nodded. "The tellers do, yes. For muggleborn wizards who don't have vaults." The cart came to a stop in front of the vault, but Harry was lot in thought. With a bit of work, couldn't you run a racket by moving sums of money between the magical and muggle worlds? If the goblin minting fee was small enough, you could make money just by shuffling gold and silver around, although you might get in trouble with the government- or the goblins. Harry had too much to do, he couldn't get himself locked up in a vault with a dragon somewhere.

Hagrid emptied the vault- which wasn't saying much, considering how there was just a single package in there- before they returned to the bank's entrance.


After returning to the main hall of the bank, he convinced Hagrid to sit down for a bit while Harry investigated the specifics of his accounts.

Once Harry could conclusively prove his identity (by pricking his finger so the goblins could perform a blood test) they were more than happy to inform him about the specifics of his accounts, and gave him long ledgers full of information, Interesting stuff, but Harry couldn't stop their shopping trip to look at them in detail. Maybe he should look into some books on accounting?

He did make sure to exchange a significant portion of his galleons for muggle pounds, and the goblins sold him a wallet which was charmed so it could only be opened by him. It wasn't cheap, but it was a worthwhile investment, especially if it kept his money safe from the Dursleys.


Hagrid guided him to Madam Malkins to get his robes fitted, but then headed off to the Leaky Cauldron, in order to recover from the cart ride. In all honesty Harry felt that if the man was supposed to be looking after him, he should actually be following his movements, but Harry certainly wasn't complaining about increased autonomy.

He got his robes fitted and met a boy there- he didn't get a name, but he was haughty and very certain he would end up in Slytherin, whatever that was. Harry was saving the bookstore for last, and tried to conserve his admittedly significant funds. As fancy as a solid gold cauldron might be, the letter demanded pewter (although Harry made sure to stock up on phials and brewing supplies. He'd probably make quite a few mistakes at first), and he got a plain set of scales as well. The telescopes were a little disappointing- he asked if any where enchanted to increase magnification or something like that, but the clerk seemed more amused by his queries than anything- what did Harry plan on doing with with a telescope like that, count all the craters on the moon?

It seemed like wizards were more focused on constellations and the movements of the planets rather than what secrets those planets and stars might hold, and Harry decided that researching magnification was high on his list. Maybe, once all the Potter properties were under his control, he could build an observatory? Maybe he could see where the Apollo craft landed…

Eventually, Harry approached the wand shop, one Ollivander's, and while he wasn't quite as excited for a wand as he was for books, it was still exhilarating. A real wand!


The shop smelled of dust, but the air seemed to be humming with potential- was this what magic felt like? He was so distracted by the shop's atmosphere he didn't notice Mr Ollivander until he popped up behind him and gave a gentle greeting. "Good afternoon."

Harry turned to look Mr Ollivander in the eyes- so pale!- and responded. "Hello."

"I've been expecting you, Harry Potter. I suspected I would be seeing you soon." Well that raised all sorts of questions- was he just a creepy weird old man, or was he some kind of seer? Did the wizards have actual seers and would Harry learn about it at school?

Ollivander continued. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems like only yesterday she was here, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches, swishy and made of willow. Good for charm work."

Harry could feel curiosity now- as creepy as Ollivander was, he clearly knew more about his parents then Harry did. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well I say your father favored it, but the wand chooses the wizard."

He leaned in close, looking at Harry's scar, and he frowned. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that made that scar. Thirteen and a half inches, yew. A powerful wand… and in the wrong hands…" He shook his head sadly, before starting to take measures with a long tape.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core made of a powerful magical substance. Here, we use three- unicorn hairs, phoenix feathers, and dragon heartstrings- and wands tend to be as unique as the animals they came from. No two are alike."

Harry went through an awful lot of wands, both long and short, with just about every type of wood and length he could imagine. Ollivander seemed to enjoy it though and perceived it as a challenge more than anything, and he eventually pulled out a wand with a bit of chuckle. "This is an unusual one- walnut and phoenix feather. An interesting combination, to be sure."

He gave the wand to Harry, and it just seemed to click, sending a burst of warmth up Harry's arm, and when he gave the wand a swing it let out a tremendous stream of brilliant blue lights, like stars. Ollivander chuckled. "An interesting combination- this will be a very versatile wand, Mr. Potter. Still, it is curious that of all wands, this one chooses you…"

"What's curious about it?"

"The same phoenix that gave a feather for this wand gave one other- and the wand I made from that feather… it gave you that scar." Harry paid the man appropriately and left- there was something unnerving about Ollivander, and no amount of trivia about his parents was worth any more time in that dusty building.


Harry made one more stop before going to the bookstore- he checked in at a place that sold magical trunks of all sorts. Massive trunks that towered above Harry and rested on actual legs, as if they could stand up and move by themselves, tiny little ones carved with complex runes, or even one trunk with a pair of actual feathery wings on it!

He didn't want anything particularly showy, and was focused on two particular factors: security and storage. Having some sort of magic in place to keep it from getting pilfered would be a relief, and Harry wanted to make sure he could actually move all of the books he planned on getting around.

Of course, Harry didn't know much about these sorts of things, so he asked the shopkeeper, a kind looking woman with long brown hair that knelt down to speak to Harry in a way that felt a little condescending. "Can I help you, young man? Have you lost your parents?"

He could feel his cheeks flushing in embarrassment, but decided against saying something silly like 'my parents are dead'. No use in exposing himself as a celebrity here. "Oh, my parents are handling some business at Gringotts, and they wanted me to pick out a trunk for Hogwarts." He gave the most saccharine smile he could manage, and the lady seemed to buy it.

She smiled and led him to a row of relatively normal looking trunks, without crazy colors or any particularly evident features. "These are the usual trunks that most students buy, without any particular charms other than whatever your parents want to apply for you."

"Oh well, I don't want to inconvenience my mom and dad… and I want to bring a lot of books to school, so is there a trunk that has magical expansions? Is that a thing trunks can have?"

"Well, they're more expensive than these ones, but we do." Harry smiled broadly.


The trunk Harry left the store with wasn't the most expensive model or anything like that, but he didn't particularly feel like splurging on something like dragon leather trunks, which were incredibly expensive due to the effort of enchanting dragon skin. His trunk was heavily enchanted to hold more than usual- there wasn't an entire room on the inside or anything, but there was lots of storage space- more than enough to hold all of his school supplies, along with several compartments which he could devote solely to books. As tempting as having a room in his trunk would be, it would be a shame if he got carted off while inside.

That left him with book shopping, which he was definitely excited for. He headed into Flourish and Blott's, and was immediately amazed- the books were stacked to the ceiling. After Harry got his hands on all the books he needed for school, he started browsing- if reading about the space program taught him anything, it was that he needed to scout out this strange new world he was entering. You wouldn't try to land on the moon without knowing how big it was, its gravity, etc, so Harry needed to know everything about the magical world. Jumping in with no preparation would be like trying to use parachutes on the moon- his normal assumptions wouldn't work in the magical world.

Books on wizarding culture weren't too easy to find- Harry had a sinking feeling that there was a lot of stuff he was just 'supposed' to know, and the wizards weren't going to wait for him to catch up. Harry did manage to find introductions to some other fields though: magical history (books other than the one Hogwarts recommended, of course. He wanted other points of view), things like Arithmancy and Runes, and a few books on basic theory. Nothing too complex, of course, and even then the shopkeepers warned him that Arithmancy and Runes were for third years, apparently, but Harry bought them anyways.

Runes in particular were fascinating- he wasn't sure about the specifics of how magic worked at range, but runes reminded him of a little of how drones and long range probes were made. Prepare something that could basically manage itself and then let it fly! Of course, he wasn't expecting to make a rover within a few days or even months, but it was all so exciting!

Harry bought a lot of books, and he stuffed them all into his trunk, with space left to spare- just as he planned. He hoped to eventually loop around to a muggle bookstore to get some nonfiction to read at Hogwarts- he almost considering grabbing a device or some sort of e-reader, but he realized that they probably didn't have power outlets in Hogwarts- not to mention what the Dursleys would do if he got his hands on any devices.

By the time he headed back towards the Leaky Cauldron, it was late, and the sun was beginning to set; however, Hogwarts was still waiting for him, and he even had something- a beautiful, snow white owl in a cage along with a bag full of… stuff.

"Harry! It's good to see yeh! I got somethin' for yeh, yer birthday…" He held up the cage and the bag, which was full of… owl treats? There was also a thin little book with a simple title: "Taking Care of Your Owl"

He could feel warmth in his cheeks- this was the first real, genuine birthday gift that anyone had ever given him, and he couldn't help but smile. "Thank you, Hagrid!" Along with the gratitude, Harry felt something else- this owl was his now, his responsibility, and Hagrid was trusting him to take care of it- he should read the owl care book first, because there was no way he was letting Hagrid down.

Afterwards, Hagrid gave Harry his ticket and headed away- in fact, he disappeared into thin air. Harry would have to learn that trick eventually.


His stay at the Dursley's wasn't too bad, honestly. Of course, he wasn't expecting familial warmth from them or anything, but they were fine with leaving him be in his new room, which gave him all the time he needed to read.

The book on owl care said names were critical, somehow linked to the magic that let the birds do their work, so Harry dug up a name from his textbooks- Hedwig. She was beautiful, and Harry got to see her comings and goings as he stayed up late into the night, trying to read at least some of all his books.

Charms and Transfiguration were definitely food for thought. Could you hover a payload straight up to orbit, maybe? Or at east raise it to a point where the atmosphere wasn't as thick? Could Charms make it more aerodynamic or could you transfigure rocket parts mid-flight? Potions didn't seem to have as many practical applications when it came to spaceflight, but it was still fascinating- it was basically like cooking, just with stranger ingredients.

Runes and Arithmancy were a little above his head- he hadn't quite gotten to level of math skill he needed to understand the complexities of it- and for a moment Harry wondered where wizarding kids learned math and reading. Was there Hogwarts Primary he wasn't invited to? Of course, Harry had to wonder how he would keep up with his more normal studies- science and math books weren't on the supply list, but Harry refused to fall behind.

The books on Muggle Studies he read were downright condescending, if not extremely worrying. He had to wonder if the chap who wrote he book had actually seen any of London outside of Diagon Alley, or if he had done some 'field research' to support his conclusions that muggles hadn't evolved that much since 1692- maybe he walked into a Sealed Knot reenactment of the English Civil War? They seemed to acknowledge some inventions like radio, but acted like wizards had perfected the art- as if! However, it seemed that the magical ministry's main function was to keep magic a secret no matter the cost, and while they did stuff like policing now, they were built around keeping the muggles mugged, so to speak.

Some part of Harry cried out at the idea of hiding all this world changing knowledge, how much of an injustice it all was. Honestly, it seemed like the magical world were protecting themselves from having to catch up with the times and face the muggle world, and this Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office sounded like they could really throw a wrench in his plans. That is, if they caught him, of course.

It would be no small feat to basically run a space program by himself- he would need to keep the Ministry off his back, which would probably be helped when he turned seventeen and had an entire estate to himself, but the Muggles were concerning too. Clearly, they hadn't managed to discover magic yet (or at least, if anyone had they were keeping it secret) and Harry assumed that magic had some sort of effect on more recent gadgets- maybe it fried digital devices? Of course, space was going to be a different beast all together, but Harry thought he could manage it- if Diagon Alley could be kept secret in the middle of London, surely Harry could sneak a few satellites into the depths of space?

Harry took notes into a journal he had bought in Diagon Alley, trying to get used to these quills that wizards were so fond of. He would have preferred a simple pen, but when in Rome… Most of the notes were about potential applications for magic, but he also thought about his potential relationship with the Ministry in the future. He didn't want to imagine what sort of punishments they might deal out for what he was planning, but if worse came to worse, Harry wouldn't weep about collapsing the entire Statute of Secrecy.

It would certainly be the nuclear option when it came to getting the government off of his tail, but at the end of the day it shouldn't be too hard to do. His books mentioned close saves where liberal use of mind magic, Oblivation (which was terrifying, honestly. Harry needed to look into a way to counteract that) had managed to save the secret from getting out… But liberal application of magic could probably get Harry in front of a TV camera, which could blow the whole case wide open, especially with the internet. Make a mess too big for any number of wizards to fix, and he was home free- if things ever came to that, of course.


I plan on making this a series, but it will probably be on the backburner compared to my other works- hopefully, I can jump into this one as I bring one of the others to a close. Well I say that, but you know.

Note the walnut wand instead of holly- an wood for intelligent/driven wizards, versatile and useful if the wizard has a concrete goal… like space. Apparently they can be really bad in the hands of a sufficiently mad wizard (like Bellatrix) but... I'm imagining my Harry with a little less temper, honestly. At least this is what I've gathered from the wandlore page on the wiki.

I might include some pureblood politicking and maybe a bit of Dumbles bashing- they're both fun, but I want to look at all these dynastic politics from the viewpoint of someone who just doesn't care, and views it solely as a tool to get to space.