During the month that Harry had until the beginning of his first year at Hogwarts, Harry returned to Diagon Alley once more. All he picked up were a few interesting looking books, a few quality sets of wizarding robes, and a snowy owl named Hedwig.

Also during that time, Harry acclimated the spells he knew to using them with a wand. The trouble with going from all wandless magic to using a wand, was that all of his spells were too overpowered at first. Spells can be amplified by using more magic than necessary, but if they become overpowered, they end up shorting out and not working.

For the first time, Harry and his relatives seemed to co-exist without conflict. Harry didn't have to do chores and could focus on reading and practicing spells while his relatives ignored his existence completely. It worked perfectly well for him, in this case.

By the end of the month Harry had completely finished going through his text books—reading theories, trying out unfamiliar spells, and skimming anything unimportant that he'd already known. Harry had felt the difference in his magic ever since he'd become the 'Master of Death,' he kept it contained most of the time, knowing how uncomfortable it made others.

It was one week before Harry was to leave that the doorbell rang and a loud fist pounded against the door like a battering ram. Being the closest to the door and having not heard anything from his aunt about guests—which would otherwise mean him staying in the cupboard until they left—Harry answered the door to find a mountain of a man with frizzy and frayed brown hair and beard that passed his shoulders. His clothes were well worn and a bit on the 'scrappy' side, though Harry knew all too well what that was like. Hell, he was currently wearing Dudley's tattered hand-me-downs and looking like a child who'd stolen his father's clothing to play dress up in. The man smiled at Harry in a friendly manner.

"Hey there Harry! Mind if I come in?" The man asked in a gruff voice, looking unsure and awkward when Harry didn't immediately welcome the stranger into his home.

'Ah, Rubeus Hagrid. He is on staff at Hogwarts and, if I'm not mistaken, he was the one to transport you from Godric's Hollow all the way to 4 Privet Drive the night your parents died. He is a bit of a simple man, but seems quite loyal. Especially to Albus Dumbledore.' His companion filled in helpfully. Harry had figured that they would eventually send someone to make sure that their Boy Who Lived would actually be able to attend Hogwarts.

Harry silently invited the enormous wizard into the house and brought him straight through to the back yard, ignoring the pointed glares he received from the rest of the inhabitants of the house. Hagrid sat down on one of the patio chairs, looking like an adult sitting in a child's chair.

"Tea?" Harry asked before he sat down, when Hagrid politely turned him down, Harry sat across from him and waited for the man to begin whatever he came here to say. After an awkward moment of fidgeting, Hagrid leaned across the table, making it almost half way, before speaking in a low tone so that only Harry could hear.

"Yer a wizard, Harry. It's marked down that you read the letter, but they sent me to make sure that you understood what it means. Yer parents—" Harry cut him off by raising a hand to stop Hagrid.

"I know. I understand what I am, and there was no need for you to come. It was a pleasure meeting you Hagrid, but I'm afraid I don't need any assistance. I will see you September 1st." Harry smiled politely and stood back up, an obvious but not unkindly dismissal. Hagrid sat back, mouth hanging open and working to try to say something, but apparently Harry not needing his help had been enough to render the man speechless.

Curious. . . If they had expected me to be completely out of the loop, as the supposed Savior of the Wizarding World, why wait until only a week before I would be thrust into that life to reveal that I'm actually a wizard? Waiting until the last week, or even the last month, to change my whole world was only asking for a disaster.

'I agree.' His companion hissed into his ear, obviously unimpressed by the recent events. 'Keeping you in the dark for so long would have done nothing to help you.'

The man—Hagrid—had only just regained his composure when Harry had turned his attention outward again.

"What about yer school supplies?! Diagon Alley is no place for a child to be alone, I can take you there now and we can get yer stuff. You can ask me any questions you have about the wizarding world while we do that, eh?" Hagrid offered, and if Harry wasn't very impressed before, he certainly wasn't now!

"I appreciate the offer, Hagrid. My sincerest apologies however, I'll have to decline. I've already purchased everything I need and sorted everything out with Gringotts." Harry paused when he saw revelation bloom in Hagrid's expression.

"That's what happened to the key!" Hagrid exclaimed, seeming to have forgotten Harry was still in front of him. Harry narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"You're my magical guardian?" Harry's question seemed to pop the little bubble Hagrid had been in and Hagrid looked at Harry with shock.

"No! Of course not, Harry. That would be Sir Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry." His tone practically dripped with hero worship at the mention of the powerful wizard, Harry tried not to imagine said worship dripping onto his shoes.

"Then please tell me why you would have it? I mean no offense sir, but I was told that only my magical guardian or I should every hold that key. Unless you had planned on making a claim of custody over me, it should never have been in your possession." Harry's tone had gone from polite to cold in a flash, his unsettling green eyes plunging into Hagrid like green ice. Hagrid flashed a nervous smile to try to lighten the slightly domineering air that had settled in around them.

"Ah! No, I not be making any such claim, Harry! You see, I be the Keeper of Keys. So Professor Dumbledore trusted me to hold on to it. He knew that I wouldn't let anything happen to the key, no way no how!" Hagrid gave an uncertain and pitchy laugh to cover for how distressed he appeared. Harry reigned in his bit of magic again and a polite mask settled over his features once again, which had Hagrid nearly deflating with relief.

"You seem like a very nice man, Hagrid. I would like to be friends. Which is why I feel that I must be honest with you. I am young, yes, but I am also independent and do not appreciate people I do not even know making decisions for me. I do not hold you accountable to this situation, but I would very much like it if you did not allow people to speak for me if I have not given my consent. I am not an invalid, I can make decisions on my own behalf—or at the very least—I would like to be included in any such matters in the future." Harry smiled then, knowing that his smile looked innocent and enchanting to adults.

Hagrid blinked dazedly a few times before shaking his head as if to clear it. Harry led the confused staff member back to the front door and they said their respective goodbyes before Harry close the door with a soft click.

A loud knock on the dark wood door was the only warning before Rubeus Hagrid walked into the trinket-cluttered Headmaster's office. The elderly wizard in silken lilac robes with silver embroidery and a matching cap and slippers looked up from the letter on his desk. The Headmaster looked over his half-moon glasses at Hagrid in surprise.

"Hagrid? I didn't expect you to be back so soon! How was your meeting with Harry?" Albus asked as he offered Hagrid a seat and a lemon drop. Hagrid declined the sweet and plopped down on the chair heavily.

"It was . . . well, it seems that our Harry has become quite independent! He even got all of his school supplies already! The lad is just a little whelp, could put him in my pocket, but he acts like an adult if I've ever met one!" Hagrid huffs out a laugh, eyes wandering as he seemed to be lost in thought. Dumbledore smiled, though there was a touch of worry in his eyes.

"That wonderful, Hagrid. Though I must say I was not expecting this. Maturity is good, but I do hope that the boy doesn't think himself so mature that he puts himself in dangerous situations to prove his maturity. Venturing into Diagon Alley alone at such a young age is dangerous and reckless. The boy had no protection and knew no magic. Accidental magic wouldn't have been enough if the wrong person recognized him." Dumbledore put his elbows on his desk with his hands clasped together and lightly pressed against his mouth as he thought. Hagrid shifted and cleared his throat, looking down and away as he tried to find his voice.

"Headmaster? About Harry . . . er, you see . . . he went to Gringotts and found out about his vault key being with his magical guardian. When I told him that I'd had it before he got it back, he seemed quite upset. He didn't like that I had it since I'm not his guardian and he wasn't happy with being left in the dark." Hagrid felt supremely uncomfortable with the thread of conversation, but he also didn't want to let Harry down when there was already so little he could do to help the lad.

Dumbledore sighed with a fatigue that only came with a long life.

"This will certainly be an interesting year. Harry Potter, you are not how I imagined. Not how any of us imagined."

The morning that Harry left for Kings Cross, he didn't say anything to his relatives. They ate their breakfast, Dudley in his red Smelting's uniform and Harry in nice but not extravagant robes. The robes looked close enough to muggle clothes that they wouldn't bring any unwanted attention to Harry as he made his way to the train station. The only differences being in the fabric and cut.

When Harry finished his cereal, he cleaned his bowl and spoon, and put them away in their respective places. The eerie normalcy of the situation made Harry's skin feel itchy and too tight in places, he was all too eager to shrink down his trunk, put it in his pocket, pick up Hedwig's cage, and head towards the door. There were no shouts for him to wait, no lingering looks in case they didn't see him again, not even a muttered 'good riddance' as he left.

Having converted a few galleons into muggle money (1 galleon = £4.97 GBP/ $10.17 USD) Harry had decided that instead of trying to get his uncle to drive him or taking public transport, his most reliable option would be a cab. The cab waited outside on the road when Harry stepped out of the house he'd grown up in.

When Harry got into the cab and set his owl cage on the seat next to him, the cab driver did a double take, then frowned at Harry from the front seat. After a moment of silence—probably thinking of what to say—the cab driver spoke up.

"You know this isn't a free ride, right?" Was all he said. Harry pulled the folded notes out of his pocket to show the driver, but didn't hand them over. He wasn't dumb enough to pay the driver before getting to where he needed to go. The cab driver just shook his head as if to say it was none of his business, and Harry could definitely agree.

The cab ride was long, but Harry arrived at Kings Cross as early as he'd hoped and gave the cab driver a generous tip before getting out.

With the occasional guidance of his companion, Harry made it to Platform 9 ¾ and onto the Hogwarts Express. Harry had arrived an hour early, wanting out of that house as soon as possible, so there were only a few people around, mostly students with their families out on the platform before having to actually board the train. That meant that Harry had first pick of a compartment, so he chose one closer to the back of the train, furthest from the doors of that carriage.

Once inside, Harry put Hedwig's cage up on the shelf over the seats and cast a small compulsion charm on the door that made anyone who looked at the window look at something else and nudge anyone who aimed to open the door towards another compartment. It wouldn't stop anyone determined or more resilient to simple compulsion charms, but it would give Harry a bit more privacy before his identity was found out and everyone wanted a peek at the 'Savior!'

Harry pulled out one of the shrunken books he'd bought during his second visit to Diagon Alley and unshrunk it. He'd purposely not read it once he finished the other books just so he'd have it to read on the nine-hour train ride.

As the hour trudged on the platform gradually became more and more busy and students began to slowly find their way onto the train. Eventually, Harry set down his book for a while so that he could observe the crowds on the platform. Looking out and spotting the students amongst their families was strange, looking at the smiles, watery grins, and full on tears and thinking about how these will be his new classmates.

Soon enough, the warning horn bellowed through the station and students rushed to get on the train before it left. Harry had seen plenty of students pass by in front of the window on his door, even a few that he saw quickly look away as the charm he'd put on the door took effect, but for the most part, everyone steered clear of Harry's compartment as they left the station. That is, until about two hours in when the door to his compartment was flung open and a familiar blonde walked in.

Draco looked around for a moment before his eyes settled on Harry. A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth and he stood up a little straighter as he walked in with more confidence and sat down on the seat directly across from Harry, next to the window. Two large brutes shuffled in after him and plopped down next to their friend. Were they friends? They look more like body guards.

"Harry Potter. . ." Draco sounded smug and a little haughty—but that might just be his voice. Harry smiled a little at the future snake and closed his book before shrinking it as he put it in his pocket. Draco's quick eyes didn't miss the action, but the blonde didn't let it show.

"How are you, Draco?" Harry asked politely, watching Draco's eyes light up at Harry using his first name. It was strange how well wizarding customs conveyed one's intent. Familiarity of first names meant that Harry was willing to have an amicable relationship beyond just acquaintances. Aside from Death, Draco was the first person that seemed like an option for a friend.

"Brilliant! I was looking for you, actually. You left me with quite a shock at Madam Malkin's last time, I was hoping I'd be able to catch you on the train and clear the air before we start our first year. About what I said about you . . ." Draco glanced away and Harry watched with idle amusement as twin splotches of pink appeared on Draco's cheeks.

"That I would turn out to be, oh what was it again . . . 'a reckless and righteous Gryffindor prick?'" Draco turned a darker shade of pink and Harry couldn't help but laugh at his kicked-puppy face. "Well. . . Seeing as how the only information people have about me is the traits of my parents—whom I've never really met—that might somehow be passed down through my genes and some great deed I supposedly did as an infant, it seems like everyone already has a fully developed opinion of my character. The funny thing about this situation is that so many people are ready to open their arms to me and trust me even though I've been gone for 10 years and am essentially a stranger. I mean, I could be anybody!" Harry tutted in mock disapproval.

There was a long beat of silence before the compartment filled with laughter as Draco's composure cracked. The tension in the small compartment snapped and Harry settled back against the seat and crossed his legs with his hands in his lap. Something inside Harry settled and he hadn't even noticed it's presence until it eased into something comfortable and warm. Draco soon settled down and his laughter tittered out and faded, leaving behind a wide smile and a small hint of moisture at the corners of his eyes.

"I must say, you're not at all what I expected!" Draco looked at Harry like he found everything the other boy did fascinating. And perhaps he does, wizards are strange, Harry thought as he glanced once again at the silent presence of the two boys beside Draco. They seemed perfectly content with just being ignored.

"Well I certainly hope so! What a dull person I'd have to be in order to be so predictable with so little information." Harry mused.

They settled into friendly conversation and eventually Harry was introduced to the two other boys—Crabbe and Goyle. Harry listened to Draco rave about his father and the trips they took over the summer to France and Spain and how his godfather was actually the Potions Professor at Hogwarts.

It sounded pretty close to bragging, but Harry had heard enough of Dudley's gloating over the years to spot the difference. Draco wasn't just bragging to show off how much better he was, most of his stories centered around his father and a bit of his godfather. It was a classic case of hero worship and Harry was totally endeared by the shine in the boy's eyes as he rattled off many different stories about the 'Great Lucius Malfoy.'

It wasn't hard to connect the dots and figure out that Draco's father was a Death Eater, but that didn't really bother Harry none. As long as the man didn't attack him on sight, he would withhold judgement until.

Harry didn't talk about himself much, which is exactly what he preferred. He mainly talked about practicing with his wand as soon as he bought one, which Draco had done as well. Harry also made vague mentions to being taught about the wizarding world before getting his letter, Draco had seemed a bit confused about why he would need someone to teach him, but Harry had moved on before he could dive into that particular topic.