Where do I even begin. James and I love you so much. Whatever happens, never doubt that for a second. You are the best thing to happen to either of us and nothing scares me more than knowing you might have to one day read this letter. Hopefully Frank and Alice have been taking good care of you in the meantime. If not, you can be damn sure that I'll be haunting both of them. I did the research on Peeves, and I'm fairly certain I will be able to figure something out…
Harry rubbed his hands against his jeans for the fiftieth time, wiping off his nervous sweat. He had a letter of resignation ready for Frank and he was just waiting for the man to be done with yet another phone call. He'd woken that morning fully expecting everything that happened yesterday to have been a dream, but his new wand had been sitting on his nightstand right next to his old, battered glasses. It was still hard to imagine.
Magic was real. He could do magic. He was going to a magical university to learn to do magic.
"Harry? Earth to Harry."
Harry startled, heart pounding, as Frank eyed him through the now open shack door. The man was looking intently at his eyes, as though looking for evidence of drug use. Harry supposed he couldn't blame him.
"Yeah, sorry Frank. You got a minute?"
Frank let him in, and Harry stood nervously next to the man's desk, toying with the letter in his hands.
"Alright, what's bothering you?"
He took a steadying breath and placed the letter on his boss' desk, trying not to swallow his tongue.
"I'm, uh, I'm leaving the company. This is my two weeks' notice."
Frank glanced at it, then indicated at the chair in front of the desk. Harry sat, wiping his hands again as he did.
"Is something wrong? You were acting off yesterday, asking about people having your address, and now you're leaving? You've been doing great on site and you haven't given any sign of being unhappy here. You get along well with the lads, far as I've seen, at least. What brought this on?"
"I've been accepted to a… university, up in Scotland. Apparently, my parents paid my tuition for me before they died. I just found out yesterday."
He was hesitant to admit there was a hefty inheritance as well. It still felt wrong to be celebrating it. He only had it because his parents were dead, after all. Was it right to?
"Is that so? I take it that's what the address thing was about yesterday?" Frank leaned back in his chair and eyed Harry thoughtfully. "Well damn, I guess that means I can't convince you otherwise. You're a smart kid, damn smart, and you deserve the opportunity. Go after it and make the most of it. Worst case scenario, you'll always have a place on my crew."
Harry was able to relax a bit. He had only started a few months ago, and he was worried how it would look with him just quitting so soon.
"When do you start at this university of yours?"
"September first." Frank glanced at the calendar and whistled.
"They didn't give you much time, did they? Well, the contract is winding down. We've finished paving and landscaping so it's just the finishing details at this point. You're welcome to stay on for your two weeks and get that last paycheck, or you can call today your last day and spend the last month prepping for your new life. It's up to you."
That made him perk up. He had been dreading the two weeks of eight-hour shifts taking up time he could be spending reading through the books he'd bought yesterday. Frank must have noticed his excitement, because he laughed to himself.
"Alright, alright. I appreciate you being willing to stick it out, but I see you aren't as desperate for the work as you were when you started." Frank stood up and offered his hand to Harry, who took it. "It's been a pleasure working with you, Mr. Potter, and if you ever find yourself in need of work and you're in the area, feel free to drop by the main office. I'll take you back in a heartbeat."
"Thank you, sir. For everything."
Harry stopped by a Chinese takeout restaurant close to his flat on his way home, and ordered himself a feast to celebrate. He hadn't eaten out since he'd moved out of the Dursleys'. His financial situation was secure for the foreseeable future, and he had already turned in his intent to vacate to his landlord, along with the fee for leaving with only thirty days' notice. Now, with a month to go and no work to take up his time, he had a long vacation ahead and a modest starting library of the wizarding world to work his way through.
He'd never been happier in his life.
The days flew by in a haze of flipping pages. Some days he would almost forget to eat entirely until the hunger pangs drew him out of his reading. He would drag himself away long enough to throw something fast and easy together or order takeout, then get right back to it. For the most part he was consumed by his thirst for knowledge.
It seemed most of the first-year curriculum was around magical theory with a few light exercises to determine each student's affinity for magic and to teach them control. Most of the spells for that year, all he currently had access to, were simple by magical standards. The kind of things to help with chores around the house or useless things meant to prove a larger theory. He doubted that he would ever need to turn a beetle into a shirt button, for example, but the concept proved something so much larger. A practitioner could change a living thing into an inanimate object, simply at will!
That was as fixating as it was horrifying.
He dug through the textbooks eagerly, comparing the lessons and practicing the incantations and wand movements with an appropriately sized stick he found on one of his walks. He ached to use his real wand, but Flitwick's warning stood out in his mind, and he wasn't willing to risk accidentally using it. More than once, he had woken from a nightmare of his wand being snapped in half and being sent back to the Dursleys.
The most interesting books among the curriculum were The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection and Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. He would often come back to those two books after reading through the particularly dry History of Magic and Magical Theory textbooks. While interesting in their own ways, Harry could lose himself for hours flipping slowly through the Dark Forces and Magical Beasts books. The idea that there were these living, breathing magical creatures out in the world and dark wizards roaming around doing dark things were incredible to think about. It made the world, the magical world, seem like a place out of a Tolkien novel.
He couldn't wait for the chance to explore it all in person.
He'd also ordered a few books that his mother had recommended in her letter, most of which were dense instructional works that went over his head. He simply didn't have the required context to understand anything they were going on about. His mum had recommended he wait until third or fourth year to start digging into them. She promised they would make more sense then. Still, the idea of specific books being selected by his mum from her own personal experience was exciting, and he swore to himself that he would be able to understand the material by second year at the latest. He had a feeling it would make her proud.
Hedwig, a snowy owl he had purchased after Flitwick's recommendation to own one, had become his new best friend. Pet really didn't quite fit. She was far too intelligent and independent for that term. He had quickly taken to leaving her cage open and letting her have free reign of his flat, though she far preferred to be outside unless she was needed. She would check in every morning and evening, like clockwork, for an owl treat. For an hour or so she would rest on the windowsill, or just inside with the window closed if it was too hot or humid, and watch him read or nap.
Somehow, she seemed to know exactly when he needed her to deliver a letter, and more than once she had arrived with a letter addressed to himself from the bookstore, though he had no idea how she could have known someone wanted to send him one. His Fantastic Beasts book had a large section on magical owls, but it seemed the author was just as impressed as Harry himself by their abilities. Either way, her company was welcome, and it felt like they cohabited as equals rather than having a pet/owner relationship.
Harry had been so wrapped up in his reading, he almost missed the last week of August entirely. Before he knew it, he had packed the last of his belongings, what little he had, into his magically enlarged trunk and was turning over the keys to his landlord.
He spent his last night at the Leaky Cauldron and barely slept at all.
'Last call for Hogwarts, leaving the station in five minutes. All students are to be boarded and luggage stowed before departure. Last call for Hogwarts, leaving the station in five minutes."
Harry glanced out the window at where the train attendant was making his final rounds. He had arrived over an hour early, worried about getting lost on the way to the train or being held up. He shouldn't have been, though. Tom, the barman at the Leaky Cauldron, had given him very clear instructions on how to get to the station, and it didn't take him long at all to get there from the pub, even in the morning traffic.
And so, he had been sitting in his quiet compartment with his belongings and books for quite some time. He'd left the sliding door open; he didn't want to take up an entire spot on his own after all, but so far most of the other passengers had glanced in and moved on once they saw it was already occupied. That was fine with him. He was hoping to finish A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration before they arrived at Hogwarts.
"Excuse me?" There was a soft knock at the side of his compartment door, and a nervous young woman with untamed hair was worrying her lip. "Do you mind if I join you? Most of the compartments are taken up."
"Not at all. Plenty of room." Relief flooded the woman's face.
"Thanks! I'll be right back, let me get my things."
She was only gone for a moment, and returned tugging two rolling suitcases behind her, each doing their best to topple over as she tried to turn them. Harry put his book aside to help her lift them into the overhead luggage compartment, and almost staggered under their weight.
"What do you have in these things? Bricks?" He'd never been so glad to have worked construction. Two years ago, the weight of the luggage would have flattened him.
"Books! When I found out I was a witch, I come from non-magical parents, you see, I got excited and may have ended up overdoing it at the bookstore."
The woman beamed as she spoke excitedly. A fierce intelligence burned in her eyes, and Harry caught them glancing at his textbook.
"Me too, actually. I must have spent half a year's rent at Flourish and Blotts. Have you read through any of the textbooks yet? I'm working my way through the Transfiguration one right now and it's fascinating."
She practically bounced at that, and settled into the seat opposite Harry with a thick tome of her own under her arm. Hogwarts: A History.
"I know! I can't wait to get into the advanced study. I just can't wrap my head around how magic correlates to the law of conservation of matter. When Professor McGonagall came to my house to explain things, she proved she was telling the truth by turning into a cat! A cat! And then she turned back again, like it was nothing!"
Harry had read about human to animal transfigurations in the textbook, but it was still incredible.
"That's amazing! Professor Flitwick, the man who met with me to explain things, conjured an armchair and side table out of nothing. Apparently, from what I've read, there are a few schools of thought regarding matter being conjured. Either we are condensing pure energy into a physical form or pulling matter from another point in space and rearranging it."
The two of them set their books aside and launched into a detailed discussion of Hogwarts, magic, and the new world they were exploring for the first time. Harry had never had a conversation flow so naturally. Students passed by a few times looking for a seat, but the heat of their discussion must have spooked a few of them off, because they were left alone. Neither of them even noticed when the train started to move. It wasn't until an older woman pushing a trolley laden with snacks trundled past that they realized how much time had passed.
"Anything from the cart, dearies?"
"No thank you, I'm-…" Harry's stomach grumbled in protest at the scent of hot sausage pastries on the cart. "Er, actually, yeah, that sounds good. Are you hungry…"
It was just then that Harry realized he'd never asked the woman her name.
"Oh! My name is Hermione, and yeah, lunch does sound pretty good, doesn't it?"
"I'm Harry. Alright, we'll take two of everything."
Both Hermione and the trolley lady boggled, but money and food quickly traded hands. Hermione tried to decline the free food, but when Harry offered to just eat it all himself, she relented. Harry noticed the cart immediately refilled itself as it was emptied, and he nudged Hermione so she would notice as well. They shared a quiet look of amazement as the attendant counted out the change.
By the time the trolley continued its rounds, Harry and Hermione had a small mountain of food laid out on the seats next to them and covered the little fold out table by the window. They spent the next few hours chatting away happily and trying out various wizarding foods and treats. Some delicious, some disgusting, and everything in between.
"So, what house are you hoping to be placed into?" Hermione asked, wiping the last of a fresh grass flavored jellybean from her mouth with a napkin.
"Ravenclaw, without a doubt. Professor Flitwick, the wizard who introduced me to the magical world, is the head of house and he is incredible. He was telling me about some of the luxuries in the Ravenclaw dormitories. Apparently, each dorm has bookshelves built into the walls that connect to the Hogwarts library!"
Hermione sat upright at that.
"I read about that in Hogwarts: A History! It sounds terribly convenient, but unfair to the other houses. They have to trek all the way to the library every day when they want a book. I was leaning towards Gryffindor myself, Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and an incredible wizard by all accounts, was in Gryffindor. Ravenclaw looks good too, though."
"Well, if you end up in Ravenclaw as well, we would be able to study together all the time. Between the two of us, we'll have every magical secret cracked by fifth year."
Hermione's eyes got a little glossy at that point, and she busied herself digging through her copy of Hogwarts: A History to hide her face.
"That sounds a bit overconfident. Maybe seventh year at best."
They laughed together, and Harry noticed just how pretty she was when she smiled. The last leg of the journey passed quickly; their conversation slowed by the amount of food consumed. The mountain of food had become a molehill, and they spoke of home. Hermione's, mostly. Harry learned that she was the daughter of two dentists and had always been well ahead of her classes. She had passed over multiple scholarships, some to rather prestigious universities, to attend Hogwarts. Though that hadn't been a hard decision to make. Between her stories of growing up, Harry was able to piece together that she'd always been a lonely girl. Too ahead of her class to make friends easily and too young to earn the real respect from adults. She existed in a bubble of her own.
Kind of like he did.
She asked about his own life occasionally, but he wasn't particularly forthcoming with details. He had magical parents, but they had died when he was young. He had been sent to live with relatives who were non-magical and they hadn't been kind.
"Hang on, you wouldn't be Harry Potter, would you?"
That puzzled him. He hadn't shared his last name so it was a surprise she could guess it, but the way she emphasized it made it seem like such a big deal. He nodded.
"I've read about you! You're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."
Ah, that would explain why he hadn't seen anything about himself in his books. He had been focusing on the magical textbooks. But if the history books could tell him more about his family, his real family, then it would bear looking into it.
"Any chance I could borrow those from you at some point?"
"Absolutely!" Hermione bounced in her seat. "I'll mark the relevant passages for you, too. I can only imagine what it would be like to find out I was in a book! It must be so bizarre."
There was a quick rap on the compartment door and it slid open a few inches to reveal a freckled young man in Hogwarts robe, with a red and gold patch and a silver badge with the letter 'P' on his robes. He was a few years older than either of them, and spoke with authority.
"We're about ten minutes away from Hogwarts. The two of you ought to change into your robes. There are changing rooms in the back, though they're a bit crowded at the moment. Or you can take turns changing in here while someone waits outside."
The young man's words were clipped and precise, and there was a hint of 'no funny business' in them.
"Will do, thanks." The man left, and Harry glanced at Hermione with a cocked eyebrow.
"That badge marks a Hogwarts prefect. A Gryffindor one, judging by his patch. Means he probably knows what he's talking about. Shall I change first, then? You can watch the hall for me, then we'll swap out."
They stepped off the train about ten minutes later, just as the Gryffindor prefect had predicted, to a village similar to Diagon Alley but much smaller. Barely a single road of shops with a train station and a few houses sprinkled about. Students piled off the train in droves, most of them heading up the cobblestone road a little way.
"Should we follow them?" Harry asked, and Hermione shrugged, as confused as he was.
"Firs' years over 'ere. Firs' years, you're with me!"
The man was easy to spot, even in the milling crowd. He stood easily three feet over the tallest students, and his beard was like a wiry dog had taken to living on his face. His accent was as thick and burly as the rest of him.
"Guess that's us, then." Hermione said, and the two of them pulled their luggage towards him.
"Leave yer luggage on the train or by it, and follow me. We've a little way to go yet. You're gunna love this."
They, along with a small horde of other students roughly their age, followed the giant down a small path to a fleet of row boats bobbing lazily on a river. Night had fallen, and each had a small lantern dangling from the prow, casting dancing shadows.
"No more than four to a boat, on with you now."
"I hope we won't need to go through this every time." Harry mused.
"I read about this in Hogwarts: A History," Hermione said as she gingerly stepped into one of the boats. Harry offered a hand to steady her, then joined her inside along with a quiet boy holding a toad and a prim, silent girl. "Returning students ride carriages drawn by a breed of magical horse while first years are taken across the lake. Supposedly the view of Hogwarts at night is something every Hogwarts alumnus remembers for the rest of their life."
The claims weren't an exaggeration. The castle towered over the surrounding hills, and could have been cut from Harry's favorite fantasy novels. Elaborate stonework, tall towers, the walls even had machicolations along the front. Had it seen combat at some point?
Hermione gasped next to him, and they stared up at Hogwarts together. Their new home.
AN: "Success is not final, failure is not fatal: it is the courage to review that counts." - Winston S. Churchill, fanfiction author