A/N So, I just felt the burning desire to write this now. You know these persistent plot bunnies that don't allow you to think about anything else but this one thing, right?

Well, I've got one right here. I am not going to make this a regular story, though. It will continue until this pressing urge to write this is finished and then it goes back to being updated sporadically.

Harry loved to tinker with things. He didn't know when exactly his passion had begun, or maybe he did. He just remembered fixing one of Dudley's toy cars with duct tape. After that, he had gotten his hands on some glue and a toy soldier had received its head back.

The final deciding factor, however, was the programmable robot Dudley received for his fourth birthday.
His cousin had boasted about it for exactly five minutes until he had realized that the robot would have to be assembled first, and suddenly all interest in the gift had been lost.

For several days, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had tried to coax him into trying it out, to no avail. Eventually, they had dismissed it as a lost cause, and the robot had joined the other discarded toys in Dudley's second bedroom.

Harry, however, had been overjoyed and had spent many nights secretly building the robot. This had been his first real foray into tinkering - and he had loved it. It had been wonderful to see the little robot move about, and he had enjoyed programming its movements with the remote control.
Up until he finally had tired of it.

He had wanted more. Something more challenging. He had felt limited, he always felt limited.

So, he started taking apart broken things and tried to put them back together. By no means did he always succeed. But every time he tried, he learned more.

Oh, and he loved learning. It was so very simple. He could not understand why Dudley struggled so badly every time his aunt attempted to teach his cousin how to read and count. After all, all he had to do was memorize the sounds and shapes. There was nothing difficult about that. Yet somehow Dudley never managed to remain attentive whenever Aunt Petunia brought out the educational videos. Just why was he not taking advantage of this golden opportunity? Harry would have loved to be in his position. He could do nothing but watch silently as he hid behind Uncle Vernon's armchair whenever the man wasn't at home.

Gradually, time passed, and finally Harry was enrolled in school.

Though he had been looking forward to it, reality proved to be a disappointment.

Things were too simple.

He passed the first half of the year in a flash and completed his assignments in a matter of minutes. The teachers became aware of his abilities and approached his guardians.

They were not pleased to learn that he outperformed their son, yet they were too concerned about maintaining their image to deny him the opportunity to skip a grade.

Still, it was not challenging enough. Harry continued to excel until finally the school decided to sit him down to measure his abilities.

The results were staggering.

Or at least that was what the headmistress said as she looked at his disgruntled relatives. "Your nephew is a genius, Mr and Mrs Dursley. He is so far ahead of his peers that we are not qualified to teach him. I have reported his results to the Ministry of Education, and they have come to a decision. Harry will be given a place at the British Institute for Gifted Children and receive a full scholarship. All you have to do is sign here," the headmistress told his guardians, and slid a piece of paper across her desk.

His uncle signed the paper with a calculating glint in his eye. Aunt Petunia looked like she had just swallowed a sour lemon, but signed it anyway.

The headmistress took the signed document and put it away. "Congratulations, young man." She smiled at him.

Harry grinned. "Thank you, Mrs. Perkins."

And thus Harry Potter was admitted to the IGC.

Time passed and Harry flourished. Rather than following a strict schedule, the institute allowed children to study whatever subject appealed to them most, as long as they passed the mandatory exams.

Harry loved science and soon lost himself in the world of numbers, electronics, chemistry and programming.

It was after one of his study sessions that one of the tutors approached him. "Mr Potter."

Harry closed the lab door behind him and turned to look at the man, "Yes?"

"Walk with me a bit," the man said, gesturing along the floor.

Perplexed, Harry shouldered his bag and followed the man's request.

Silence reigned for a moment before the man commenced to speak. "You've been here for a year now, Mr Potter, correct?"

"Yes, Mr Connor," Harry nodded, wondering where this was going.

"You are a very intelligent young man," Mr Connor continued, and he paused for a moment before he corrected himself, "no, intelligent is not the proper word. You have a mind as sharp as I have not seen it in a very long time. Do you have any plans for your future?"

Harry pondered over this question. "I'm not quite sure. I like science and inventing things. I don't really have a career in mind yet, but there's something I really want to do."

"Oh?" Mr. Conner paused and turned to look at him. "And what would that be?"

Harry looked at him. "I want to build a robot. But not just any robot. I want it to be an AI that I can talk to."

Mr Conner raised his eyebrows. " This is a very ambitious goal indeed, but nothing unattainable- and it is related to what I wanted to talk to you about. You need to complete a project of a reasonable difficulty level in order to graduate from this school. Building an AI from scratch would satisfy the requirements."

"Well," Harry looked him in the eye and grinned, "I think my plans just accelerated."

Mr. Conner smiled. "Good."

Harry was sure that he and Mr. Conner had different expectations for artificial intelligence.

Mr. Conner probably thought about a robot that could be programmed.

Harry thought of a human-like being.

But Harry was not deterred. Even though he did not have the hardware yet, he could still start small.

He engineered a mini-robot, though somehow it stopped working only minutes after he had finished it. Could he have made a mistake?

Giving it another try, this time with a different chip, the phenomenon repeated itself. No matter what he constructed, it instantly malfunctioned.

He checked the programming, but he could not find any mistakes.

Bewildered, he locked himself in the school library and started researching possible causes of malfunctions.

Though he tested extensively, he could not find a solution. He did, however, notice something peculiar. His instruments would show strange spikes whenever they came into his vicinity. Could he be the one causing the disturbance? But how?

Ultimately, he sought the opinion of one of the counselors. Mrs Troy listened intently as he shared his test results and furrowed her brows. "This is indeed a very strange matter," she remarked, "I will have to consult with my colleagues about this." She stood up. "Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I will get back to you."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, madam." He shook the offered hand and left the office.

A week passed. Harry was in the middle of making an inventory, when the door was suddenly thrown open and a man appeared.

Harry stared at him. The stranger raised a wooden and very fragile stick and aimed it at Harry. "Magicus Revelio." Bright white light surrounded Harry.

The man nodded and lowered his stick. "I was correct. You are a wizard, boy."

Harry blinked. "Whoa, slow down. You just pointed a glowing twig at me, did a fancy light show, and suddenly I'm Merlin 2.0?"

A pamphlet was thrown at him. "Read this."

Harry caught the pamphlet and glanced at it.

"So, you are a wizard?" the title proclaimed. Harry skimmed the first few sentences.

Congratulations on discovering your magical abilities. The following information will help you through your first steps into a completely new world. Please note that this pamphlet will self-destruct in five minutes, so do read quickly.

"What the hell?" Harry looked up to see the man already gone. He snorted. "Sure, leave the kid alone with the exploding paper and the shoddy PR announcement, why not."

He looked back at the paper and memorised the important places mentioned in it, and studiously ignored the red, bold warning about mixing magic and electricity.

It took him two minutes and twenty-three seconds, so he used the remaining time to set up his camera, then he snatched up his notepad and waited for the note to burn.

Rather than disintegrating as Harry had expected, it exploded into a fountain of confetti.

As the brightly coloured paper shreds covered him from head to toe, Harry decided that wizards were indeed mad.

They were wrong. Very wrong. Electronics worked with magic.

It had been a nightmare to work the properties of a rune into a mathematical equation, but he was Harry Potter, and Harry Potter was a genius.

Carefully, he screwed the last lid onto the mechanical owl and wiped the sweat from his brow.

After three and a half years of constant work, his AI was finally finished.

He placed the screwdriver on the table and flicked the switch.

The owl blinked its mechanical eyelids and fixed its glowing gold eyes on him. "Retina scan complete. Identified Person: Creator. Access Granted. Greetings, young master. I am J.A.M.E.S. Just a moderately efficient secretary."

The rush of accomplishment Harry felt at this moment was indescribable. He grinned. "Hi, James. You and I are going to have so much fun together."

Harry did not present his owl to the examining board, but showed them the clock-shaped version, taking care not to reveal the full extent of its abilities.

Nevertheless, he managed to amaze the examiners.

"We expect great things from you, Mr Potter," the headmaster said to him as he shook his hand exuberantly. "You will go very far in this world. It has been an honour to have you at our Institute."

Thus, Harry Potter became famous for inventing artificial intelligence with human characteristics and graduated from IGC at the age of eleven.

Over the following weeks, his face was all over the British newspapers and was nominated for the "Youth Science Award".

Then came a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest.

It was the first time his relatives got involved.

"You can't lock me in!" Harry glared at his uncle.

"I will not allow any freakishness in this house!" his uncle snarled and continued blocking the door.

Harry remained undeterred. "Let me out, or you will regret it."

Vernon's face turned red. "Are you threatening me?! You-" He extended his hand towards Harry, looking very much like he wanted to slap him.

"James, stop him."

"Yes, young master." The owl rose from his shoulder and opened its beak. Pink paint splashed over Vernon Dursley.

He shrieked and rubbed over his face.

Harry smirked and used the opportunity to vanish through the door.

They were using a steam train. Harry snorted as he saw some boys gushing over it. "Everything is so old-fashioned," he commented to James, and ignored the curious looks people were throwing at his floating AI.

James' answer came over his earphone. "Indeed, young master. The difference between the cultures is truly blatant. I wonder how this Hogwarts looks like." James paused, "I can still not fathom how someone thought this to be an adequate name for a school."

"Ditto, James. They were probably dead drunk," Harry replied flippantly.

"Quite possibly," the AI agreed.

"Hey, look at that, Fred. The first year is talking to himself."

"I would disagree, George. He seems to be talking to his strange metallic owl."

"Can it answer, I wonder?" the one named Fred stepped closer, a bright grin on his face.

Harry smirked. "James, great these gentlemen."

"Greetings, young sirs. A pleasant day to you," the owl complied with a slight dipping of its head.

"Cool," George leaned closer. "What is this?"

"My name is James. I am just a moderately efficient secretary," James replied.

"He is an AI I developed," Harry explained as the twins snorted. "Artificial intelligence. Made by electronics but behaves human-like," he added when he saw the confused looks, "He can do things for me, scheduling my timetable, looking up information and so on."

"Wicked," the twins answered in unison.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, "He's pretty cool. Right, James?"

"I do not indulge in vanity, young master. My circuits, however, are beautifully connected."

They laughed.

The left twin held out his right hand. "Fred Weasley."

The right twin held out his left hand. "George Weasley."

Harry crossed his arms and shook both of them. "Harry Potter."

They gaped.

Harry winked.

And that was how Harry Potter met Fred and George Weasley.

"It's a castle," Harry commented flatly. "Of course, the pointy-stick magic wielders live in a bloody castle."

"How quaint," James remarked, "and quite idyllic, I must say."

A gigantic tentacle splashed out of the lake, waved at them, and retreated.

"Yes," Harry agreed after a moment of silence, "very idyllic." He sounded only vaguely sarcastic.

They followed the massive man towards the boats. "Speaking of pointy-sticks," Harry suddenly began, "I did get myself one, right?"

The AI was quiet for a moment. "There are no wandmaker appointments in your schedule."

Harry paused. "Is that so? Ah, I knew I had forgotten something. Keep an eye out for any nice twigs along the way, will you?"

"Of course, young master," the AI agreed amicably.

They moved on.

Floating candles, medieval costumes, and a performing hat. Right. Harry felt like he had fallen into a rabbit hole.

This feeling only intensified when the headwear suddenly started announcing house names.

Finally, his name was called, and he stepped forward.

"Harry Potter?!"

"The Harry Potter?"

"The genius? He's a wizard?"

"It's really him!"

Great. He was famous.

"Ravenclaw!"

It was a new experience to sleep in a dormitory. It was not bad, but Harry could have done without the awed expressions of his fellow Ravenclaws.

Still, he was kind of proud to show James off.

He was a masterpiece, and Harry really loved the name.

Severus Snape, however, was less amused.

"Keep that thing out of here, Potter!" he snarled during their very first potions lesson and pointed at the floating owl, "or I will destroy it."

Harry did not look particularly bothered. "James is everywhere and nowhere. He cannot be destroyed. Right, James?"

"Yes, young master."

"Potter, out!"

Harry shrugged and left for the common room. He had something to check on anyway.

"Young master," James inquired and fluttered around the mess on the dormitory's floor, "may I ask what you are looking for?"

Harry pulled his head out of his trunk. "I already found it." He brandished his findings triumphantly at his AI. "I knew I still had it."

"Young master, this is a chopstick."

Harry waved him off. "It's wooden and pointy. It works."

He gained ten points for a perfectly transfigured needle that day.