Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in it. I am merely borrowing J.K Rowling's brilliant characters and backdrop.
The blatant mummer of Harry's fellow inmates rose and fell as the idiotic children conversed among themselves. Harry really just wished they would all shut up. He supposed it would be alright if it weren't for the shrieks and yells that interrupted the constant hum of noise, but the inconsistency in volume made it near impossible for Harry to read.
"Potter, we have to go out to the courtyard now," one of the older boys yelled.
Harry glanced up and was pleased to see that despite the confidence in the boy's stance he had kept a safe distance from Harry.
The raven haired child gave the boy a nod signifying he had heard him and stood.
As Harry passed the guard the man took a step back and Harry smirked. The guards and the other inmates feared him, not just for what he had done to earn himself a place in Britain's most secure children's detention center, but for all the strange things that happened around Harry. Harry himself didn't even understand it, but hey, if it terrified the others he would use it to his advantage. Being one of the younger children at the center and certainly one the smallest Harry needed all the leverage he could get if he hoped to survive and he would take it in any shape or form it came in.
The small raven haired boy leaned up against the chain fence watching boredly as the other children ran around the track. The guard was too petrified of Harry to make him run, thankfully as Harry abhorred running. He had plenty of experience with running, mainly from being chased by Dudley and his gang, and had no desire to do anymore of it.
Harry cursed under his breath as the dull grey skies grew more murderous and it began to drizzle. From past experience the dark haired child knew they wouldn't go in until they had been outside for a full hour no matter how atrocious the weather got. Soon it had started to pour as Harry pessimistically predicted it would. Within minutes Harry's hideous orange jump suit was entirely soaked through, he could hardly see through his fogged up glasses, and he was shivering violently. To make matters worse several boys ran past him splattering mud on him. Harry snarled after them and both boys coincidently tripped falling flat on their faces in a mud puddle. Those were the type of things that made the others fear Harry. All the peculiar coincidences that occurred around him, particularly whenever someone angered or hurt him.
At long last they were permitted to return to the dry and relatively warm cement penitentiary. Harry immediately disappeared into the bathrooms in order to change out of his drenched clothing. When he returned he was surprised to find one of the boys approaching him.
"Yes?" Harry drawled questioningly.
"Mail's here," the boy informed him.
"So?" Harry demanded. He never got mail.
"There's a letter for you and I hear it's mighty to strange too."
"Thank you," Harry said monotonously, sidestepping the brown haired boy and making his way over to where the guard was passing out mail.
"Here you go Potter," the guard grunted dropping the letter onto Harry's outstretched palm.
The front of the envelope read:
Mr. H. Potter
Cell 204
Secure Children's Home
Ewell
Surrey
The envelope was thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp.
Turning the envelope over Harry saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.
How curious.
Harry cautiously opened the letter and unfolded the parchment. It 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 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
Harry stared at the letter incredulously. This had to be a hoax. Magic wasn't real. Now the question was who thought it would be amusing to play a prank of this nature on him, Harry Potter.
"Who sent me this letter?" Harry growled.
A few people glanced in his direction before quickly turning away again.
"I said, who sent me this leader?" Harry demanded, louder this time.
Now he got the desired effect. Everyone in the near vicinity froze and stared at him, their gazes averted.
"Who?" Harry hissed, his voice quiet and calm, but laced with venom.
"Why would any of us send you a letter, Potter?" one of the braver souls questioned dryly and the others nodded agreement.
Huffing Harry spun on his heel and stalked off.
The next day another letter arrived identical to the previous one.
Good lord these people are persistent Harry thought slightly annoyed and slightly amused.
That night as Harry lay in bed he couldn't help, but wonder if the letters weren't a prank – that they might be real. Harry shook his head contributing the ludicrousness of his thoughts to his exhausted and delirious state. The morning, however, found Harry still dwelling over the possibility that Hogwarts and magic were real.
Harry once again received a letter during mail distribution. This time, though, the person had sent three as if that would help anything.
They got a new arrival that morning. Unfortunately for him, he didn't know that Harry wasn't to be messed with. At lunch the older boy approached Harry.
"Give me your food, Scarhead," he ordered.
"No," Harry deadpanned.
"I don't want to have to hurt you kid," the boy threatened.
Harry merely cocked an eyebrow at him his emerald eyes flashing dangerously.
The considerably larger boy lunged grabbing Harry by the collar. The next thing Harry and everyone else knew the boy who had attacked Harry was hanging upside down suspended in midair. The cafeteria was silent enough that you could hear a pin drop. Everyone stood mouth's ajar staring at Harry and his tormentor in fear and horror. Harry who honestly was in as much shock as anyone else lost focus and the boy tumbled to the ground. Immediately scrambling up the boy stumbled away his eyes never leaving Harry's form as he half stuttered half shrieked, "Get away from you filthy witch."
Well, that settled it Harry thought, magic was real and he, Harry Potter, was a wizard. It did explain a great deal. All the accidents that happened around him such as the tripping incident a couple days ago, sending a boy much larger then himself flying into a wall, running from Dudley's gang and ending up on the school roof, and the fire incident that had landed him here. Uncle Vernon had been giving Harry a nasty beating that day. He had been shouting something about how Harry would burn in hell. Hell – there were flames in hell. Yes, Harry had started hoping Uncle Vernon would burn. The man had then caught on fire along with the table behind him. Somehow Uncle Vernon hadn't died from the incident, which Harry was glad of he didn't want that blood on his hands, but the man had received third degree burns across much of his body making him permeantly disfigured. At the trail all three Durselys had testified that Harry had light Uncle Vernon on fire and had always been a malicious child they had only kept out of the goodness of their hearts. Harry hadn't fought it not caring about being sent to a child's prison. After all it couldn't be worse than the Durselys. Harry given his "tragic past" and young age had been sentenced to three years and then six months of probation and physiatrist visits. Now Harry knew the truth. He had been the one to set Uncle Vernon on fire, but at least it was an accident, whereas the Dursleys treatment of him was not.
The rest of the day passed excruciatingly slowly. Harry could feel the stares of the others constantly digging into him, however, as soon as he so much as glanced in their direction they averted their gaze and scampered off.
That night Harry pulled out a fresh sheet of parchment and a pen. Now that he knew that this was not a hoax, Harry decided that he might as well accept the offer reasoning that it would be far more useful to have trained magic than the current unstable magic he possessed. The real difficulty would be getting out of this sink hole. He still had another year left until his sentence was up. Harry chuckled to himself at the thought of telling Deputy Headmistress McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore that he couldn't attend their school because he was currently incarcerated. He doubted they would still want him with that piece of knowledge.
Harry began to write.
Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall,
I would like to accept your generous invitation to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Sincerely
Harry Potter
P.S. Could you please inform as to where I am to purchase my school supplies.
The raven haired child read over what he had written and deeming it satisfactory neatly folded the parchment and placed it an envelope.
Now for an escape plan.