22 July 2011

"It came!" Harry called as he flung open the door to his flat and rushed in from his summer football camp.

Well, technically it wasn't his flat, as he was only eleven and couldn't afford to buy much of anything yet. But it was the flat he lived in with his Aunt Vi, that was frequently visited by his uncles James, Sirius, and Q, so he felt like he could call it his flat without being too arrogant.

"It came, Auntie Vi!" Harry called again, closing and locking the door with far more care than he'd opened it. Uncle James wouldn't be happy if the door wasn't properly secured.

Aunt Vi came in from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. "You're late - dinner's almost ready."

"Sorry," Harry said. "But the game ran long."

"You do have a mobile phone."

There was no reprimand in Aunt Vi's tone, but Harry felt his face heat nonetheless.

"Sorry," he said more sincerely. "I got caught up and I forgot."

Aunt Vi smiled. "No harm done, but do try to remember to call next time." Harry nodded vigorously, and Aunt Vi said, "Now, what came?"

"My Hogwarts letter!" Harry offered it to her, then frowned. "At least, I think it is. I don't get lots of mail."

"Let's see, shall we?" Aunt Vi opened the letter, read it briefly, and then handed it back to him.

The script was old-fashioned, elegant in a way that modern handwriting - or at least his handwriting - wasn't. Harry read the letter with growing excitement.

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 read the letter a second time, and looked up at his aunt. "I can go, can't I?"

"Call Sirius and ask him to come to dinner," Aunt Vi said. "We'll talk about it."

*BREAK*

Jane was pleased and proud that Harry kept his excitement to himself throughout dinner - Harry had clearly paid attention to 007's lessons in Deportment as Spycraft 101, even if Jane wasn't entirely thrilled that he was offering them - and explained football well enough that Sirius appeared to understand it.

"I'd like to go to a game sometime," Sirius said as Harry finished and took a sip of his water. "It sounds about as close to Quidditch on the ground as you can get."

"Without the lopsided scoring for catching the Snitch." Harry put his glass down and folded his napkin. "I mean, as fun as Quidditch is, it's sometimes like two separate games being played at the same time."

Sirius looked surprised by the observation, so Jane added, "I've sometimes felt the same. Even as a spectator, it's hard to know what part of the game to watch."

"Hm." Sirius appeared to consider that as he took a sip of his wine. "I hadn't thought about that before. Now that you mention it, it seems best to have a broad view of the whole game, and only focus on parts of it when needed."

Jane chuckled and finished the last of her own wine - never more than two glasses, and a second only in situations where she felt safe - and sat back as Harry started to collect plates and clear the table.

"That's not how most people look at anything," she said. "Even driving, most people look only a few feet in front of them - and don't see the accident half a mile ahead that they need to be reacting to until it's too late."

Sirius shrugged and stacked the rest of the plates with a swish of his wand. "I don't see why you made me get a driving license when you have the Tube and I finally learned to apparate."

"Because sometimes, we go out into the country, where there's no Tube," Harry answered, returning to the table and picking up the stack of plates. "And you can't expect Aunt Vi to drive all the time - that's not fair."

He disappeared back into the kitchen and Sirius smiled ruefully at Jane.

"Nothing quite like being put in your place by an almost-eleven-year-old," Sirius murmured. Then he turned, well, serious. "That's why I'm here tonight, isn't it? He turns eleven next week, and that means…."

"It came today." Jane summoned the letter and guided it toward Sirius, who caught it easily.

Sirius glanced over the letter and supply list, then looked up at Jane as Harry returned from his final trip to the kitchen. "It seems just like I remember mine. What's the issue?"

"The issue is that it's just like yours," Jane said, then frowned when Sirius looked puzzled. "Harry was raised in the non-magical world. If I hadn't been magical, how would he have known what to do with that? We await your owl by July 31," she added, and finally Sirius appeared to understand.

"I don't understand," Harry said, and Jane turned to address him directly.

"I've told you that you were originally left at Tuney's - your Aunt Petunia's - house," she said, and he nodded. "If she'd raised you, disliking magic as much as she does, do you think you would have known what to do with that?" She gestured at the letter Sirius still held.

Harry's eyes widened, but all he said was, "No, probably not."

"I remember when Lily got her letter," Jane said, and Harry perked up. No matter how many stories she or Sirius told him about his parents, Harry absorbed each one eagerly. "Besides the invitation and the supply list, there were pamphlets describing the Statute of Secrecy and shops on Diagon Alley. More to the point, Professor McGonagall brought it personally. She demonstrated that magic was real, and then took Lily to Diagon Alley to do her initial shopping."

"But Lily was Muggle-born," Sirius said, reverting to the term he'd grown up with. "There's a different procedure for Muggle-borns."

"What, exactly, is the difference between Muggle-born and Muggle-raised?" Jane demanded. When Sirius had no answer, she said, "That's my point. Someone should be here to do the same thing for Harry."

"But they know I'm in contact with Harry," Sirius said. "I can barely go onto the Alley without someone asking me how he's doing."

Which was a whole other headache Jane didn't want to get into. "Still," she said, "it speaks to a lack of attention to detail, and I don't like that at all."

"Does-" Harry cleared his throat. When Jane looked at him, his expression seemed…forlorn. "Does that mean I don't get to go to Hogwarts?"

Jane floundered, and Sirius jumped in. "Do you want to go to Hogwarts?"

"I-" Harry straightened in his chair. "Yes. I want to go to the school where my parents went. Especially after reading Mum's journals…."

And that had been the biggest blessing of the trunk Lily left behind - the chance for Harry to know his parents through their own words own words. James' journal had been far more sparse than Lily's, and the final entries - made just as they were going into hiding - were bittersweet, full of love for Harry and fear for all of their safety. Still, Jane doubted Harry would give up those journals for anything.

Neither would she.

Jane blew out a breath as she realized both Harry and Sirius looked at her for a decision. She'd honestly been surprised when Sirius chose to remain as godfather and uncle, rather than take primary custody of Harry.

"I'm not ready, yet," he'd said. "To be a father, even a father figure, I mean. I'd do it if there were no other choice, but you seem to have gotten everything together far better than I would've. Let me be the uncle who tells him very seriously to mind his auntie and then slips him chocolate frogs when you're not looking."

And he'd been exactly that over the years, so it was no surprise now that he waited for her decision.

Which she had to make. Now.

"All right," Jane said finally, then held up a hand as Harry started to cheer. "With conditions."

He looked wary. Good. "What conditions?"

"I want honest reports of everything that happens." Jane glanced at Sirius. "While I enjoy a good prank as much as the next person, some pranks cross the line into bullying, and you're just eleven. You may not know the difference yet."

Harry's expression showed his frustration at her pointing out that he was not nearly as mature as he thought he was, but he nodded. "I understand. What else?"

"Study, of course." Jane smiled, and Harry laughed. "But have fun, too - join a club or two, make more friends."

Harry's expression fell. "What do I tell my friends?"

"Tell them you've been accepted to an exclusive school in Scotland," Sirius said, and Jane raised an inquiring eyebrow at him. He shrugged. "Lily said that's what she told her friends."

"And that's a good idea," Jane said. "But it does bring up the question of your regular studies. I want you to be able to pass your exams in the non-magical world, too. So, send me a copy of your class schedule, and we'll discuss how to continue your current studies as well."

"That seems like a lot," Sirius said.

"It is," Jane agreed. "But I'm confident Harry can do it."

"I'll do my best," Harry promised.

*BREAK*

Dear Professor McGonagall,

When my sister, who was born and raised in the non-magical world, received her letter of acceptance to Hogwarts, you delivered it in person and spent several hours with my family explaining magic and the magical world. You then escorted my sister to Diagon Alley to purchase her supplies and introduce her to the magical world.

My nephew, Harry Potter, was raised in the non-magical world, yet he only received his acceptance letter via the Royal Mail, with nary a visit from a Hogwarts staff member to explain anything about magic or the magical world, let alone show him where and how to purchase his supplies.

If this oversight is indicative of a general decline in Hogwarts' standards since my sister attended, you will understand my reluctance to allow Harry to attend.

However, and despite my reluctance, Harry is determined to attend the school his parents attended. Therefore, please consider this letter confirmation of his attendance at Hogwarts, but please be advised that should I find his magical education lacking, I shall transfer him to Beauxbatons.

Sincerely,

V.J. Moneypenny

*BREAK*

Minerva McGonagall set the letter she'd just received - not from a Hogwarts owl, but rather a snow white owl that had flown off the moment Minerva removed the letter - on her desk, frowning.

Whatever she might have expected from those apparently dreadful Muggles Albus Dumbledore had left Harry Potter with all those years ago…this letter certainly wasn't it. What could have led to the difference?

Perhaps the Muggle mother had simply had a bad day? Or perhaps the child, who'd kicked her all the way up the street, only occasionally threw tantrums? Or perhaps Sirius Black had more influence on Harry than he'd publicly claimed since being exonerated?

Or - and this was certainly the most likely - Albus's letter had held far more of an explanation than Minerva could have expected.

Yes, that must be it. He was, after all, Albus Dumbledore. Even a Muggle couldn't help but be impressed by him.

Certain in her analysis, Minerva picked up the letter to file it with the other acceptance letters she'd received.