Chapter 8
Harry's Eleventh Birthday
Six days later: Wednesday, 31st July
The past six days had been different for the three Dursleys who lived at Number 4, Privet Drive. The Dursleys had picked up that the contempt that Harry had held for them, a contempt he had previously hidden, was now unveiled. Harry's uncle and cousin also had picked up that Harry was no longer scared of them—and that if they continued to act like tossers, there would be a reckoning in a few years.
Harry was contemptuous of Aunt Petunia too—and this bothered her, it seemed. She apologised to Harry for trying to read Lily's diary without asking permission first. Harry decided he would like it if Petunia would start to act like a true aunt to him from now on, but he did not hold out much hope.
This morning at 9 a.m., Harry told Aunt Petunia, "I have wizarding business today, and I'll be gone all day. It'll be up to you to prepare today's meals and to wash the dishes. I'll see you tomorrow morning." Harry did not ask his aunt for permission to leave, he simply told his aunt that he was leaving, then walked out.
Two minutes after Harry walked out to the kerb, he was stepping onto the Knight Bus.
As Harry rode the dangerous purple contraption, he was smiling, because life was good. Since Harry had both a method of sending a letter in a short amount of time, and a workaholic owl, Harry and Hermione had exchanged many letters over the last six days. In her last letter, Hermione was rereading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. Hermione's book report was from the viewpoint of a little-girl witch who also was an avid reader.
Hermione had begun writing her letters with a quill pen on parchment. ("I need the practise before we go to Hogwarts.") Hermione had written that her parents "fell down laughing" when they discovered that Hogwarts was so old-fashioned this way.
Ten minutes after Harry boarded the Knight Bus, he was walking through the Leaky Cauldron.
Nobody recognised him in there, because Harry wore no glasses and showed no scar. A minute later, nobody recognised him in Diagon Alley, either.
In his other lifetime, this had been the day that Hagrid had taken Harry to Diagon Alley to buy books and school supplies, and everyone had recognised him. His memory of that day's visit to the Leaky Cauldron, with strangers reaching for him and touching him, had been frightening.
In Gringotts
Harry's teller looked bored. Or annoyed. Or both.
Harry said in a clear voice, "Good morning, Teller. May your gold flow and your enemies' blood pool at your feet. I'm Harry Potter, and I wish to speak with the Potter account manager, please." Harry presented his trust-vault key.
These words yielded very helpful service from the teller (once Harry dripped some blood droplets onto a parchment and his identity was confirmed). Harry mused how nice it was that the 1991 goblins did not know about him breaking into Gringotts in 1998, then smashing his way out of Gringotts on the back of a dragon.
The teller soon escorted Harry to the "Potter account manager"—the Potter family crest was on his door. Walking through the door, Harry braced for battle—
Spirit-James and Spirit-Lily had warned Harry about Bronzedagger, the Potter account manager. Harry's parents had warned him: Bronzedagger was in Dumbledore's pocket.
"Tell me how Gringotts can help you today, Mr Potter," Bronzedagger said.
Harry replied, "Today is my eleventh birthday. I want to claim my Heir Potter ring, read my parents' wills and organise an audit of my trust vault."
"Erm, auditing a vault requires a fee—"
"Which I'll pay."
"—and requires Director Ragnok's signature. I'll get that now. Please wait here."
Bronzedagger hurried out the door of his office, to the corridor outside. Quietly, Harry followed Bronzedagger into the corridor, and watched the goblin hurry away.
Mounted to the corridor's ceiling were signs in Goblintext. Most of the signs were small, announcing who or what was behind a particular door.
A larger sign, besides showing Goblintext, had a right-arrow and a picture of an owl; clearly this sign said Here is the Message Centre.
A different sign had Goblintext, a left-arrow and a picture of a crown. Here is Director Ragnok's office, Harry figured. But that was not where Bronzedagger was going. Either Bronzedagger could not tell an owl from a crown, or the goblin was about to send a message to someone.
Harry saw three goblin soldiers in the corridor, each holding a large two-headed axe. Harry pointed at Bronzedagger and yelled, "Stop that goblin! He intends to warn the wizard who is bribing him!"
All three goblin soldiers took off running—one ran after Bronzedagger, one ran to Ragnok's office and knocked on the door, and the third goblin soldier headed for Harry. Two seconds later, Harry had the top of that soldier's axe pressed against his chest. This did not hurt, but Harry was not about to make any sudden moves.
A minute later
"Wizard, tell me why you demanded that my soldiers arrest one of my people," Harry was ordered by Director Ragnok. Ragnok looked annoyed. Meanwhile, that goblin axe still was pressed against Harry's chest.
Almost all of the goblins at Gringotts wore Muggle business suits that were tailored for their bodies. Goblin soldiers, however, wore chainmail. Director Ragnok wore both chainmail and a black cape with white Goblintext words on it. Also, Ragnok wore a sword with a back-scabbard.
Harry kept calm. He replied, "Today is my eleventh birthday. I told Bronzedagger I wanted to claim my Heir Potter ring, read my parents' wills and order an audit of my trust vault. He told me that for an audit, I'd be charged a fee—which I don't mind paying—and that he'd need your signature."
Ragnok snarled. The sound was inhuman.
Just then, there was a commotion by the Message Centre. Bronzedagger backed out of the Message Centre into the corridor, his hands up. The goblin soldier who had chased after Bronzedagger was now smacking him with the flat part of the double-axe. That goblin soldier yelled something angry, as he let a piece of paper drop to the floor.
The third goblin soldier, whose double-axe was held in parade position instead of threatening someone's tender flesh, ran off to fetch the paper and to bring it to Ragnok.
Ragnok glanced at the paper, then yelled Gobbledygook words of command. The goblin soldier by Bronzedagger chopped all the way through his neck, then wandlessly vanished all the blood (besides vanishing the lower part of Bronzedagger's corpse).
Two minutes later, still in the corridor
Ragnok and Harry still were standing outside the office of the late, unlamented Bronzedagger. Harry did not understand Gobbledygook, but apparently he and Ragnok were waiting for someone. The goblin soldier who had threatened Harry with his axe now stood two paces away, and his axe now was in the parade position.
The soldier who had severed Bronzedagger's head had left immediately afterwards—along with the head.
Now the third goblin soldier walked up to Ragnok, along with a pinstripe-suited goblin whom Harry dimly recognised from his previous lifetime. This goblin soldier saluted Ragnok by thumping his fist against his breastbone, then he stepped back and moved his axe to parade position.
Ragnok spoke to the newcomer goblin in English, so that Harry could understand: "Senior Teller Axefrenzy, you are due a promotion. You now are the Potter Account Manager. Move into Bronzedagger's office; he no longer needs it. Box up his personal effects and put them out in the corridor. Mr Potter has business with you—business which Bronzedagger failed to carry out properly."
Axefrenzy thanked Ragnok, bowed deeply, then hurried through the door to Bronzedagger's office.
Ragnok magically changed the sign above the Potter account manager's office. Ragnok was turning to walk away when Harry said, "Director Ragnok?"
"No need to thank me, young Mr Potter," Ragnok replied. "Time is money."
"As you wish, director," Harry replied. "But I wanted to tell you that it's on my to-do list to talk to you today, after I talk with my account manager."
Ragnok's attitude turned wary—Harry, who in his previous lifetime often had been approached by people asking for a "favour" from the Boy Who Lived, understood this wariness well. Now Ragnok asked, "What do you wish to speak with me about?"
Harry replied, "In a Gringotts vault—not one of mine—is something that dishonours the entire Goblin Nation. But here in the corridor is not the place to discuss such a thing."
"Very well. If the subject is as you say, I shall permit a meeting." Then Ragnok looked meaningfully at Axefrenzy's door. Mr Potter, don't keep my employee waiting. Time is money.
In Axefrenzy's office
(Office of the brand-new Potter account manager)
Harry said, as soon as he stepped through the door, "Congratulations on your promotion, Axefrenzy. May we both bathe in gold in the coming years."
Axefrenzy replied, "Thank you. But in the meantime, please be patient with me, Mr Potter. I'm forced to familiarise myself with your account whilst you're sitting right in front of me."
Harry chuckled. "And I've turned eleven today, so all of this is new to me too."
"Indeed? You know the traditional goblin greetings. Most magical humans don't know them." And can't be bothered to learn them, Axefrenzy implied.
"I've been reading my mother's diaries. As a Muggle-born, she thought most of the 'time-tested ancient traditions of Wizarding Britain' were balderdash."
Axefrenzy grinned in agreement, as he closed a big ledger and set it aside. "How can Gringotts help you today, Mr Potter, on your eleventh birthday?" Axefrenzy's toothless smile said I can guess quite well why you're here today.
Harry also smiled (toothlessly). "As I told Bronzedagger, I want to claim my Heir Potter ring, read my parents' wills and organise an audit of my trust vault."
"May I ask why you want an audit of your trust vault? I can write you out a statement of deposits and withdrawals that goes back however-many years you want, and the fee is much less."
Harry sighed. "But would the written-out numbers be accurate, or would Bronzedagger have doctored them? That's why I want an audit." Then Harry gasped. "Bloody hell, I just realised, the deposits to my trust vault come from the Potter family vault, don't they? Looks like I'll need the family vault audited too. Bollocks."
Axefrenzy stood up. "I'll go talk to Director Ragnok. Bronzedagger dishonoured you, and he also dishonoured the Goblin Nation. I'll ask the director whether the fees for the two audits can be waived. I'll return soon."
For the second time today, Harry watched the goblin who was the Potter account manager walk out of his office whilst Harry was in the room. But this time, Harry did not give chase.
Two minutes later, Axefrenzy returned to the office, and to his desk, with a signed parchment. "Both vault-audit fees have been waived," he announced.
"Thank you," Harry said. "Your numbers of right now might be overstated, but what do your statements say is in my trust vault and in the family vault? Coinage only."
"The latest figures I have are: trust vault, 49 999 galleons, 16 sickles, and 29 knuts. Family vault, 386 830 744 galleons, 1 683 sickles, and 350 knuts."
Harry whistled, shocked. Shit, no wonder Molly and Ginny worked so hard to love-potion me. I've a quarter-million pounds' worth of coins in my trust vault alone!
Becoming the heir to the House of Potter was simple. Axefrenzy read out a particular magical oath, which Harry repeated with his wand pointing up. Light flashed, then Harry donned the Heir Potter ring.
The Heir ring was a gold ring with a square that contained a black 'P' against a grey background that was the colour of wet clay. As soon as Harry put on the Heir ring, two things happened: the ring shrank to fit his finger, and Harry knew things.
(One of the things that Harry knew was that if his hand came near a chalice, goblet, glass or cup, the ring would detect potions added to the liquid. Spirit-James had been right: If Harry had been wearing his Heir Potter ring in his previous lifetime, Molly and Ginny would not have been able to love-potion him.)
Axefrenzy then asked, "How else may Gringotts help you today, Heir Potter?"
"Please, Axefrenzy, call me Harry. But since now I am Heir Potter, I wish to read my parents' wills."
"Give me a moment, and I will summon them."
When the two wills appeared on Axefrenzy's desk, they were wrapped in a parchment that had Goblintext words on them. Axefrenzy scowled. "The Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot has sealed these wills. Meaning, nobody in the Ministry of Magic may read them."
"The Chief Warlock is Albus Dumbledore—a name you're going to hear me saying often today. He's my enemy. Anyway, the wills being sealed at the Ministry—what does this mean at Gringotts?"
Axefrenzy's grin showed pointed teeth. "At Gringotts, it means nothing, because Gringotts is sovereign territory. You as the Heir may read these wills, you may pay for copies, then you may hand out those copies at the Leaky Cauldron if you wish—and neither the Wizengamot nor Chief Warlock Dumbledore can tell you no."
"Great," Harry said. "Let me read the wills, then let me decide what to do next."
Both wills were short; and Harry already knew in general terms what the wills said, from talking with Spirit-James and Spirit-Lily. But it was one thing to be told that Dumbledore had illegally ruined his life, but it was another thing to read the written proof.
Harry growled, "Two wills, and in neither one is Dumbledore's name mentioned anywhere except as a witness! And my father's will refers to Sirius Black as my 'oath-sworn godfather.' Doesn't this mean that if he truly did betray my parents and put me in danger, he would've dropped dead then and there? Yet he's alive. He's in Azkaban, yes, but alive."
Axefrenzy scowled. "That is strange. I can't explain it."
Harry growled, "I think the ultimate explanation is that Dumbledore has been abusing his powers again."
In Harry's previous lifetime, Harry knew, Dumbledore kept on abusing his powers. Sirius left Azkaban not from anything that Dumbledore did, but by turning into a dog and escaping. Then, even after Dumbledore was convinced of Sirius's innocence, the Chief Warlock never bothered to give Sirius a trial, which not even the Minister of Magic could have stopped Dumbledore from organising. Then, almost two years before Harry himself died, Sirius died when he fell through the Veil—still a wanted criminal for crimes that he had never committed.
Now Harry looked at Axefrenzy. "I would like three certified copies of each will, please, and I would like to schedule the wills' public readings. Would 31st August be a good date?"
Harry thought, I'm sure Dumbledore will want to interfere. But if the wills' reading is the day before the new term starts at Hogwarts, Dumbledore can interfere less.
Axefrenzy replied, "Saturday the thirty-first of August for the reading? This will give us plenty of time to notify the beneficiaries. I foresee no problem."
Harry said, "I'm going to work on getting Sirius Black freed from Azkaban. Hopefully, he'll be out of prison and be able to attend the readings, one month from today."
Axefrenzy asked, "Is there anything else that Gringotts can help you with, Heir Potter?"
"Just a few things. Somehow Dumbledore has put an owl-mail-redirect spell on me. In ten years, the only magical mail I've received has been my Hogwarts letter. Whatever account statements Gringotts has sent, Dumbledore has read them, not me."
Axefrenzy growled.
Harry told Axefrenzy, "Related to this, I'm about to call the head Potter house-elf. Greyclay."
Pop—Greyclay appeared by Harry's chair.
Harry said to Axefrenzy, "From now on, I want all Gringotts correspondence to be sent not by owl, but by calling my house-elf Greyclay. G-R-E-Y-C-L-A-Y."
"I'll make a note." So saying, Axefrenzy wrote something on a piece of paper, folded the paper in half and dropped the folded paper into a slot in the desktop.
Harry said to Greyclay, "Please listen for Gringotts calling your name. When they give you a letter for me, wait till I'm alone to pop in and to hand me the letter."
"Greyclay will do this."
"Thank you, Greyclay. Return to whatever else you were doing." Pop—Greyclay disappeared.
Axefrenzy said, "In the meantime, here are the three certified copies of the wills that you requested. The fees will be taken from your trust vault." Axefrenzy took the will-copies from a black box on the desk that before then, Harry had not paid attention to.
Harry picked up the will-copies, then said, "This finishes my business with you. Now, Director Ragnok has agreed to meet with me sometime today. Axefrenzy, would you please walk me into his office, so that I don't break some big goblin rule without knowing? I've already come way too close to a double-headed axe today, and I don't want to wind up like Bronzedagger."
Two minutes later, in Director Ragnok's office
Harry said to Ragnok, "I've signed a magical contract, so I can't tell you how I know this, but in Bellatrix Lestrange's vault is the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff. Which has a horcrux—a piece of Voldemort's soul—attached to the Cup."
"You're sure of this? One of those abominations is in a Gringotts vault?"
"I am absolutely sure, no doubt at all. But you don't need to take my word on it—go in that vault and check it out for yourself. Just don't mention my name to anyone."
"If there is such an abomination there, Gringotts will seize Bellatrix Lestrange's entire vault. How much of her vault do you want as a finder's fee?"
"None of it. I'm not asking you to do this so I can get richer. I have another reason for telling you, and maybe my reason is selfish, but it has nothing to do with money."
"Very well. Gringotts will check out the vault, and Gringotts will write you a letter that either tells you that we found the item that you described, or that we didn't. However, I warn you now that if we find nothing—meaning that you've wasted Gringotts's time—we will fine your trust vault ten thousand galleons." Ragnok was watching Harry's face closely.
"That's fair. But I'm certain you'll find a horcrux in Bellatrix's vault, just as I said."
Harry continued, "Now, when you find that horcrux, is there any way you can use that horcrux to locate others? I'm sure Lord Voldemort made more than one horcrux."
Ragnok snarled. "That is evil."
Harry nodded. "Voldemort is an evil man." Listen, from a 1998 perspective, I could tell you stories...
Ragnok asked, "Once we find the horcrux in our vault—if we do—I'm sure that goblin magic can create a locator spell to find other horcruxes of the Dark Lord."
"Good," Harry said. I already know where the other four horcruxes are, but this way, my explanation of how I know doesn't require me to mention time-travel.
Ragnok asked, "Is there anything else Gringotts can do for you, Heir Potter?"
"Yes. Dumbledore. Since my parents' wills don't say Dumbledore is any sort of magical guardian, I ask that starting now, you block him from getting into any of my vaults, and you take back any stuff from my vaults that he's taken."
Ragnok replied, "Do you want us to arrest him and to put him in a goblin mine?"
"If you can make an airtight case, yes. Dumbledore claims to be my magical guardian? McGonagall, Flitwick and Sprout are true magical guardians, with access to Muggle-born students' vaults. Lightly audit those Muggle-borns' vaults, just to find out what magical guardians normally do, then audit my vaults. If anything in my vaults is dodgy, then yes, arrest Dumbledore and work that wanker!"
When Harry's meeting with Ragnok ended, Harry bowed to Ragnok and gave ritualised thanks; then Harry called Greyclay. Harry told the Potter house-elf to take him directly to his bedroom at Number 4, Privet Drive. Pop.
Since Harry had come to Gringotts by riding on the Knight Bus, why did he not wish to ride the Knight Bus to get home? Today, Hagrid would be in Gringotts sometime, to fetch the Philosopher's Stone from vault 713; and Quirrellmort would be in Gringotts later today, to try and steal the Philosopher's Stone from this same vault. Harry did not want to run into either of them—which might happen if Harry had to walk out of Gringotts and through Diagon Alley, on his way to hailing the Knight Bus.
A minute later
Back in Harry's bedroom at Number 4, Privet Drive
Harry took out paper and pen (not parchment and quill), and wrote a letter to Amelia Bones, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement—
.
31st July, 1991
Dear Director Bones,
I am Harry James Potter, of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter. Today I turned eleven. I went to Gringotts, claimed my Heir Potter ring and asked to read my parents' wills. (A copy of each will is included with this letter.)
Did you know that the copies of the wills that the Ministry has, have been "sealed" by order of the Chief Warlock? My understanding of this term is that not only has the Ministry not carried out what the wills say, but also you can be put on trial just for reading the wills. Now who was the Chief Warlock who sealed my parents' wills? Albus Dumbledore. Remember his name.
This same Albus Dumbledore placed me with my mother's Muggle sister and her husband, Petunia and Vernon Dursley, two days after my parents were killed. I was left with the Dursleys even after the wills of both of my parents said, "No, not Petunia as Harry's guardian, no way!"
Also, Albus Dumbledore has named himself as my magical guardian, even though he appears in both wills nowhere except as witness. By the way, the wills name you as a possible guardian, after Sirius Black and Alice Longbottom.
As a supposed magical guardian to me, Albus Dumbledore is awful. He's been my supposed guardian for ten years now, but I've never met him. So he carrying out his duties as my guardian—telling me about my parents, and about the House of Potter and the wizarding world? None of this has happened. The only reason I know anything at all about the wizarding world is because I'm reading my mum's Hogwarts diaries, plus there are some books that Professor Snape suggested I buy and read.
I'm starved and beaten by Vernon and Petunia Dursley and their Muggle son Dudley, but not only has Dumbledore not caught this (because he's never visited me), but whatever Muggle and magical agencies are supposed to check up on orphan children, have never visited me either. I suspect that Dumbledore somehow has blocked those government agencies from doing their job when it comes to me.
Earlier, I mentioned Sirius Black. I understand that he has been put in the wizards' prison supposedly for committing many crimes, beginning with betraying my parents to Voldemort. But look at my father's will, which calls Sirius Black "Harry's oath-sworn godfather." My understanding of this term is that if Sirius were in fact my oath-sworn godfather and then chose to do something to endanger me, he would've dropped dead on the spot. Yet he's alive.
Something is quite odd about what happened to Sirius Black, but I don't know enough to do more than to make vague accusations. But here's what I do know: One, I have lots of money in my vaults, which my guardian gets to spend. (Dumbledore has had my Gringotts key for the past ten years.) Two, if Sirius Black weren't in prison, then he would become my guardian, and Albus Dumbledore couldn't stop this. This is why I think Dumbledore got Sirius Black thrown in prison, and somehow Dumbledore is keeping my godfather in prison.
Until I'm told otherwise, I believe that my godfather, Sirius Black, is innocent! Get my innocent godfather Sirius Black another trial, so that the man who is supposed to be my magical guardian, can be!
Harry James Potter
P.S. If you or someone you know has read the "Harry Potter" books that are written by Roy Locke, take it from one who knows: nothing in those books is true.
P.P.S. If you want to know the truth about how I've been raised, talk to Professor Snape. He's been to my relatives' house and he's seen how they treat me. He also knew my Aunt Petunia as a child.
.
Harry used Greyclay to deliver a copy of the will for each of his parents, along with Harry's letter, to Amelia Bones. Harry wondered what Madam Bones would think after she read his letter.
After Amelia Bones read Harry Potter's letter, she drank half a bottle of firewhisky, trying to drown her shame.
As Director of the DMLE, it was part of Amelia's job to investigate any allegation of someone being unjustly convicted of a crime. Even if the prisoner were Bellatrix Lestrange (whom Amelia loathed), if Amelia saw evidence that suggested the prisoner should not be in prison, Amelia was obliged to investigate.
Sirius Black's arrest and imprisonment had bothered Amelia from that day, ten years ago, when she had first heard of Sirius's misfortunes. But Amelia had never investigated Sirius Black's case, even after she had been granted the formal authority to do so as Director of the DMLE.
But what was much worse for Amelia, what truly made her want to get drunk, was that Sirius Black was not a stranger to Amelia. He and she had dated—at Hogwarts, when he had gone through the Auror Academy, and as young Aurors. In October of 1981, Amelia had believed that Sirius was working up the courage to propose to her—and if he had asked that question, she would have said yes in a heartbeat.
So why had Amelia let Sirius rot in Azkaban? She had no excuse.
Drunk Amelia resolved that she would do right by Sirius Black, even if both Cornelius Fudge and Albus Dumbledore gave her pushback. Sirius Black and Harry Potter deserved nothing less.
Meanwhile in Harry's bedroom
After Harry sent Greyclay off with his letter to Madam Bones, Harry petted Hedwig, flipped through his schoolbooks, and generally puttered about.
The simple truth was, Harry was procrastinating.
Harry was about to do something that the founders had advised him to do, that his parents had agreed that he should do, and yet it went entirely against his nature to do—
Talk to the press.
During the planning session, the founders had told Harry, "You desperately have wished to be treated as 'just Harry' by wizards and witches, but except for that bushy-haired girl, this has never happened. Here's something you don't know—"
"After Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald, he wasn't treated as 'just Albus,' any more than you've ever been 'just Harry.' Not only were students in awe of Dumbledore afterwards, but so were his fellow professors. The moral of this story? You cannot not be a celebrity, unless we somehow could Obliviate all of Wizarding Britain. So since you always will be a celebrity, plan how you will use your celebrity."
Spirit-Lily had nodded, agreeing with the founders' words. "Harry, ordinary magicals want to talk about you and know about you. Trust me, there was never a series of books in Flourish and Blotts about your father, or the other Marauders, or me! But if you don't talk about yourself, other people will talk about you. Many of your problems in this last lifetime came because Cornelius Fudge talked about you, and that horrid Umbridge woman, and Rita Skeeter, and Draco Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy—they talked about you first, they talked about you often and, since you never spoke up at all, those people who hated you, shaped how other magical people thought of you."
Spirit-James had said, "Always be the first to tell your story. Then when something noteworthy happens—troll in the lavatory, a sixty-foot basilisk, your name coming out of a magical goblet—you be the first to tell that story. Dumbledore will try to take over your story and claim that whatever brilliant thing you just achieved, you did only because of his 'wise guidance.' Speak up fast and speak up first, before Dumbledore does—that wizard loves the sound of his own voice."
So now Harry took up pen and paper, and wrote to Xenophilius Lovegood, publisher and editor of The Quibbler—
.
31st July, 1991
Dear Mr Lovegood,
I am Harry James Potter. Today I turned eleven years old. I'm told I'm famous.
I found out a week ago that in Wizarding Britain, I'm known as "the Boy Who Lived," and that I'm a celebrity because I survived the attack that killed both of my parents.
I remember a few things about that night, but not many. My strongest memory is of a green light.
I once magically moved to the roof of a school building when I was chased by bullies, and I can talk to snakes (which I'm told is rare even for wizards, though my mum could do it too). I don't know how magically powerful I am, but I think that as eleven-year-old wizard kids go, I'm somewhere in the middle.
The first time I was officially told I was a wizard was when I received my Hogwarts letter a week ago, and the first magical person I ever met was Professor Snape, a week ago. It was Professor Snape who told me that people called me "the Boy Who Lived," and he had to tell me what the term meant. The only reason I know anything at all about the magical world was that a year ago, I discovered my mum's school trunk in my aunt's attic, and I've been reading my mum's diaries about her Hogwarts years. It was from reading my mum's first-year diary that I realised I was a wizard.
Those Harry Potter books written by Roy Locke—I've only glanced through them, but from what little I've read, they're malarkey. For one thing, I grew up with my mother's Muggle sister and her Muggle family, not with "George and Rowena Potter." I've never seen a troll or a dragon.
I'm writing to you because I'm told that you print a newspaper (but to be honest, I've never read it), and because your wife Pandora was friends with my mother (Lily Evans) at Hogwarts.
Anyway, would you be interested in me writing my story and you printing it? I'm not asking for money, but I insist that you don't change or cut any of what I write.
I have a certified copy of my father's will and my mother's will, to back up some of my claims.
Harry James Potter
.
Harry also wrote a letter to Barnabas Cuffe at the Daily Prophet, with similar wording and with the same white lies.
That evening, at the Granger house
Crawley, West Sussex
Harry arrived in style—if the noisy, eyeball-stomping-purple Knight Bus could be considered "stylish."
For Harry's birthday, Hermione gifted Harry a copy of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (which Harry had not read). The Doctors Granger gifted Harry a hardcover dictionary and—unusual for dentists—a fancy box of chocolates.
At first Hermione was happy, because now she had a friend and she was having fun with her friend. Because Hermione was happy, Harry and the elder Grangers all were happy, though for different reasons.
However, Hermione was beginning to work herself into a "I haven't studied enough!" panic—Harry recognised her symptoms. He said to her, "Do you realise that this is the only time over the next seven years that we won't have homework during the summer? Enjoy your last month of leisure and freedom!"
"But—"
Dan Granger gave Hermione a Dad-look, then said, "Thank you, Harry."
But then Harry himself brought Hermione back to panic when he shared with the Grangers that, according to Lily's second-year diary, Harry's mum had regretted not signing up for any correspondence classes for Muggle subjects. Lily in second year had found out that Muggle-borns seldom were hired for anything more than menial jobs in the wizarding world, whilst the total lack of any Muggle classes meant that Muggle-borns were unemployable in the Muggle world.
The Granger parents got angry when Harry said all this. They said that Professor McGonagall had misled them.
Hermione looked thoughtful.
Harry was telling the Grangers about his shopping trips with Professor Snape six days ago, which had led up to Harry meeting Hermione. But it seemed that Harry told more than he meant to.
"I don't understand," said Hermione, "why Harry bought new clothes, and had to change into the new clothes, before he went to Diagon Alley and did wizard-shopping."
Dan Granger's eyes were running a full diagnostic scan of the part of Harry that could be seen above the table.
Emma Granger patted Hermione's hand and said, "Dear, let's talk about something else. We don't want to embarrass Harry." Hermione gave her mother a puzzled look.
Dan asked Harry, "Are your relatives sometimes not nice to you?"
Harry, who was desperate to change the subject, asked the Granger parents what dental school was like.
Harry was talking about the errands he had run earlier today. He showed the Grangers his Heir Potter ring.
"I see lots of gold in that ring," Dan said.
Harry nodded. "But what really makes this ring valuable is all the spells attached to it. For instance, the ring detects potions in any cup I'm holding."
Emma asked, "Is this a real worry for you, someone slipping a potion into your drink because now you're the heir to an ancient magical family?"
Harry thought of the shit that Molly, Ron and Ginny had pulled. Harry replied, "Are potions a worry? Sometimes, yes."