The Aftermath:

Harry had concluded that his teacher was a magical person, just like him. Maybe if he was a good student, she might tell him everything he wanted to know? Maybe she could carry him to see the magical school? And maybe the bank too? Harry Potter collapsed on his old, worn mattress in his attic. Today was the best day of school he had ever experienced! His teacher was so nice and even her magic was nice too? She had even complimented him on his flowers!

Harry was sure that his new teacher was merely joking about bringing flowers. However, he had grown a lot of different flowers over the last couple of months. Of course, this little project had been driven by the demands of Petunia Dursley. Carnations, Daffodils, and Roses - quite a lot of them were present in the garden. Surely, he could put them to good use? They were a rather odd combination, but Harry had hoped that it would suffice. Petunia would be compelled to assist him tomorrow morning. He would cut the flowers and Petunia would deal with the assembly and the aesthetics.

Harry had experienced something that only a lucky few people ever experienced – a teacher who loved her students.

Later that afternoon, Harry took out his textbooks and attempted his homework, for the first time in all the years that he had ever attended school. He wanted to get every question correct. Maybe his new teacher might complement him again? The science should not be too hard – he knew a lot for his age. The Language Arts homework, perhaps he could guess reasonably well? After all, he had a fairly good idea of what patterns to look for based on his personal reading. That would do until he grasped the rules?

The real nemesis, however, was Mathematics.

Harry had always understood the relationships somewhat – but his accuracy always suffered. He always made silly mistakes. Perhaps he could go slowly? Maybe he could recheck every step with the calculator that Petunia had in the kitchen. Then he could be sure that his smaller steps did not have wrong results? Yes – that would do it! Harry then began to scribble furiously and was then disappointed as his effort was represented by something that looked like abstract art. He realized that his handwriting was terrible. His thoughts soured as he decided to take a break after completing the science homework. It felt like he was being dogged by yesterday's inadequacies as he was trying to turn over a new leaf. Maybe he could try again a bit later? He remembered his mental checklist. His next task was to question Petunia about the magical world. He put down the pencil and he went to find Petunia, downstairs.

He suggested rather sweetly to Petunia "We should have tea. I want to ask you about my Mum." Petunia seemed to struggle momentarily as the hatred arose, but then she settled down. Petunia then prepared the tea and invited Harry.

Harry's favourite bird was present in the living room. Close to her feet was a container filled with pumpkin and sunflower seeds. Another bowl had been converted to a water dish. She was definitely getting the treatment – after all Harry had arranged everything the previous day. Even Dudley would not attack the bird, with all the compulsions in motion.

When the young phoenix saw her partner-of-heart she trilled and landed on his shoulder and began to nuzzle him affectionately. Her wizard had explained last night that he needed to go to someplace where he 'learned things' and having a pet bird was 'against the rules'. Naturally, she busied herself by flying around the neighbourhood that morning and slowly tracked Harry to his school. She investigated the general surroundings and hunted rats as she stretched her wings. She knew exactly where Harry was going tomorrow morning.

Harry was off to the funny-looking building with the pretty brown-eyed-long-black-haired-woman who was teaching skills to the younglings.

Harry interrogated Petunia for the next two hours. Within that time, he was able to establish that his mother was a 'Witch' and she had done a lot of 'magical' things as a child. Lilly would encounter Severus Snape, and he would explain much of the wizarding world to Lilly, who happened to be a freak just like her sister. Petunia explained that as their relationship developed, she often spied on their conversations because she was jealous. It became obvious that Petunia did not know any magic herself, but she knew about 'Hogwarts'. Some of the interesting pieces of information that he managed to gather included:

· His power was indeed called magic and all magicians carried wands.

· Hogwarts was a secondary school and there were wizarding subjects.

· Gringotts was a bank and it was run by Goblins.

· It was possible to exchange Pounds into Galleons, which were wizarding currency.

· On the year of a wizard's 11th birthday, an invitation letter was sent via an owl to attend Hogwarts

· Albus Dumbledore the person who had left him here to rot, and was he the principal of Hogwarts.

· The wizarding world had a prison called Azkaban and Dementors were creatures that could suck out your soul.

· Harry's parents had been killed by a terrorist called "Voldemort"

· Harry had to live at the Dursleys because there was some type of enchantment, that would break when he decided that the 'Dursleys was not his home'. Albus Dumbledore had cast the magic, and it would protect him from the servants of Lord Voldemort.

According to Petunia, the magical world was purely responsible for taking her sister away from her. Her teenage years were difficult and Lilly could not relate to her secondary school experience. Her sister was so busy studying and reading that she (Petunia) became an ignoramus and an annoyance. Harry listened on and considered Petunia's perspective – her habits with Dudley crossed his mind and he considered that while Petunia's feelings were perfectly valid, her perceptions could not be trusted. After all, she had no problem pawning off adult responsibilities on him –It was more likely that she had failed to take up responsibility at every turn in her life. Harry listened on as he pressed more magic into his voice and dug deeper.

Harry listened to a summary of the initial four years of Hogwarts schooling and then came to understand that Severus Snape had told his mother something after her fifth year that was so horrendous, that their friendship came to an abrupt certain end. His mother had stopped talking to him, after crying all summer. As the tale advanced, the story got darker as even Petunia had suspected indirectly that there was trouble afoot in the Wizarding world. His parents' marriage had arrived, and Petunia had hated Lilly so much that she had not bothered to attend. The last bit of useful information included that shortly before both his parents were killed, his mother had been doing research with people called Unspeakables. Finally, the letter that had been received by Petunia from Albus Dumbledore was explained in great detail.

Harry after the interrogation took the young phoenix to his attic and told the bird that he would give her a nice name and that he wanted the name to be special. The phoenix chirped with happiness. He sat down and he thought about how he could find out more about this 'magic' business.

His teacher was a witch like his mother, and he could feel the magic in her bones. He would have to ask her? Maybe she could help? Maybe correct homework would help convince her? Harry then looked at all his homework and attempted it again, hoping to impress his new teacher. While he attempted it, he was reminded again that abstract art did not qualify as handwriting.

This problem puzzled Harry. While he was fairly competent at holding gardening shovels, hammers, and paintbrushes his finger dexterity suffered. He wondered what he could do. Ms Singh had explained that his handwriting would improve as long as he made the effort. All he had to do, was to keep trying. But was it possible to write with magic? He already had questioned the flamingo neck Petunia downstairs and it had worked beautifully.

Harry then said aloud to himself "I want to use my magic to write just like my teacher."

The result had not been immediate, but Harry could sense a faint tingling in his fingers as the time passed. He started working through the questions. About an hour later, Harry was now attempting his Mathematics. Harry began by checking over every step. As the time progressed, Harry began to remember the answers to some of the rather simple number pairs that he had been working with – no reason to continually recheck that 3+3=6, 4+3=7, 10-4=6...…

Harry continued to work with a great deal of concentration as his magic passively kicked in. Most importantly, he felt excited. Ms Singh would give him his compliment and for once, he would not be stupid and incapable. There had never been a reason to push himself – nobody cared. But now, his teacher cared, and he felt very different about himself. He promised himself to go all guns blazing from tomorrow morning. His magic, sensing that he desired improvement began to slowly course into his body. Once again, the ancient magic that had assisted him in Gringotts, pinged him remotely again.

When Harry was finished, he had a slightly dull headache and he felt mentally exhausted. But he was pleased – the magic had improved his handwriting greatly. For most teachers, a blind examination of the science and mathematics homework would leave many with a common inference – the work simply belonged to different children.

Harry as a child was not too sure after Saturday if he saw the world with innocent eyes. As the Dursley house settled down, Harry mulled over some of the deeply troubling things he had experienced. The fight for his life had changed him – He had seen Lord Voldemort murder his mother in cold blood. There had been no mercy as her cold frozen corpse had collapsed on that fateful night.

Avada Kedavra. This had to be something lethal. Magic that killed?

As he remembered the fuzzy recollections that he had witnessed, he considered the followers of Lord Voldemort. There had been an entire room of people dressed in black robes with white decorated skull masks. Harry began to honestly wonder why these individuals had not attacked his home. Perhaps they did not know where he lived. That was the purpose of Dumbledore's protection? But surely, they could find him at school? There was any number of ways they could deal with him easily. He could have been shot. A sniper rifle? A grenade? Unless….they didn't know about the normal world?

He realised that he was not safe, even though this inference gave him some initial comfort. However, the only thing standing in the way of those hooded followers was a lack of motivation and common sense. Harry considered that they would eventually come around, and things would have to change, to ensure his safety. He would have to give Lord Voldemort and his followers the same kind of mercy he and his parents had received. He would kill them all.

After all, Albus Dumbledore had left him in this wonderful place via a basket. That was not a person who could be interested in his welfare. Everything hinged on his suspicion that Ms Singh was a witch, like his mother. He made up his mind. He would ask tomorrow.

Little did magical England know, many of them had signed their death certificates in advance, on that rainy evening.