Albus Dumbledore walked down the sidewalk towards Number Four Privett Drive. He had not realized it was nicknamed TickyTaffy, by one Harry Potter, but wouldn't have gotten the allusion even if he had known. He was presently feeling quite cross, just a bit out of sorts with the need to convince Harry Potter that the magical world was one worth entering. It was difficult, truth be told, for Albus to understand why anyone wouldn't want to learn about magic.
Albus knocked on the door, and Uncle Vernon answered. "It's another one of you lot. And wearing pink paisley to boot. Hasn't anyone ever taught you how to dress? A proper nancy boy you look, in those dresses you wear."
Harry, listening from upstairs, muffled a snicker. Even Uncle Vernon wouldn't have dared call Hagrid a nancy boy. Hagrid was big enough to fold Uncle Vernon in half if he had a mind to.
Aunt Petunia arrived from the kitchen, wearing a yellow apron and saying curtly and calmly, "Oh, do come in. You're wasting your time, I suspect, but have a seat. We'll already have to explain to the neighbors why the nutty old professor is walking about our neighborhood, we might as well not try to convince them you're a Witness."
Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, strode into the house, looking dubiously at the sofa before sitting. "I was wondering if I might have a word with your ward, Harry Potter."
Aunt Petunia sat down across from Albus in a Queen Anne chair, and picked up her knitting. "You may." she said quietly, before loudly calling for Harry. (Harry had always admired her ability to belt his name without shouting.)
Harry Potter came down the stairs lightly, pleased that it was the Headmaster he was to talk to. Not that he trusted the Headmaster even for a blink of his eye. The smiling old man looked about as shifty as you'd expect from someone who had sent Hagrid to talk with Harry Potter and get him oriented to the Magical World. Harry came to rest in front of the Headmaster, crossing his arms behind his back as he leaned forward a bit, looming slight over the older man. "Headmaster. Or is it Supreme Mugwump?"
Albus Dumbledore's eyes sparkled, and he gave a hearty chuckle, "Professor will do, Harry." Harry chalked up another point against the Headmaster, who had apparently decided that either they were entirely too intimate to use last names, or that Harry was too much of a child to be allowed the honor of being addressed by his last name.
Harry smiled slightly, and said a bit hastily, "I'm sorry you've come all this way for nothing, Professor. I suppose you haven't got my letter yet, have you? I mentioned I'd be declining your kind offer, as I've already accepted another. The Crick-Priestly school is well-regarded, and I have to tell you, I'm really looking forward to learning about stars." Harry said with an earnest smile, dangling the bait right under Dumbledore's nose.
"Oh, Harry, I think you'll learn plenty about the stars if you come to Hogwarts! We have a few class that revolve around Astronomy."
"Can you tell me about neutron stars?" Harry asked pointedly.
"No, I can't say that I've even heard about them." Dumbledore said honestly.
"Well, if you're still here in a few hours, I'd love to show you one." Harry said with a grin. Aunt Petunia, still knitting (she never knit, but Harry applauded the circumspective eavesdropping It wasn't as if Dumbledore was going to get Aunt Petunia to leave her own sitting room), gave a cough at that.
Bewildered, Dumbledore said earnestly, "But Harry, don't you want to learn about magic?"
Harry Potter smiled, and said, "I've got the books already, you know. I don't see why I should need to go to your school in order to learn. And I can pick up quite a bit more than just magic if I go to Crick-Priestly."
Dumbledore shifted uneasily in his seat, saying, "But Harry! Your parents would want you to learn about magic. Your mother loved charms."
Aunt Petunia looked up at this, discarding any pretense that she was just knitting, and said, "That's the thing of it, isn't it? She's dead, isn't she? Her husband too."
Harry Potter looked sharply at Dumbledore, and said, "It... it looks like there's a target on my head, too. See this scar? Tell me that there's no one who doesn't want to do me in. Tell me."
Dumbledore blinked, and said, "Harry, it's... extremely important that you go to Hogwarts. I can't say it won't be dangerous, but you won't escape danger at Crick-Priestly either."
"I won't? I thought most wizards couldn't navigate Muggle environs." Harry Potter said, obliquely waving his hand at Dumbledore to demonstrate exactly what he was talking about. Aunt Petunia muffled a snicker.
"It doesn't take a genius to cast the killing curse." Dumbledore said sternly. "Nor someone blending in terribly well, in truth."
"Then why haven't they already?" Harry Potter demanded.
"You're... safe here. Your mother... there's some sort of ... wards... around your home." Dumbledore said slowly, as if trying not to tell Harry anything at all. Harry seethed under the circumlocutions.
"So, if I'm to ever leave... I need to go to Hogwarts?"
"Exactly, my boy!"
"I don't see why I shouldn't go to upper school here, then." Harry said firmly, crossing his arms. "I don't want to be famous, and I don't want to get hurt."
Dumbledore took a slow breath, mentally cursing the absence of Severus Snape (even explosively belligerent, he might have been able to twist this better.) "The Wizarding World, right now, is in a cold war. If you do not return to Hogwarts, the spirits of the Light Side will flag, and people who mean you harm might be able to consolidate their power. "
"Why me? An eleven year old?!"
"Your survival was a miracle, Harry."
"Well, I can't count on a miracle to keep me safe again, now can I?" Harry said, "I'll pass."
"Harry, we can keep you safe. I'm not sending you to a battle with adult wizards. I'm talking about you going to the school where your parents went."
"I don't want to go, how is that so hard?" Harry said quietly.
"Harry, we need you... please, if there's anything that I can offer you... You must go to school, for your own safety... and everyone else's." Dumbledore said.
"It... it almost sounds like you... want me to be some sort of hero or something." Harry stammered, belatedly falling back into his role.
"That's precisely right. So, you must understand, you're needed at Hogwarts."
Harry looked down at his foot, playing with his toe, and then looked up, saying, "May I have some time to think about it?" He already knew his answer, of course - Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon weren't about to pay for a proper school for him, nevermind what he had made up.
"Yes, of course my boy. " Dumbledore smiled, looking at the wide-eyed expression on the boy's face. Still, a little something wouldn't hurt, would it? "Here, my boy, as a token of my esteem." Dumbledore summoned a rocking horse, which could whinny and actually flex itself into rocking around the room. Harry Potter looked at the old man, and hadn't the heart to tell him he'd just given Harry a gift for a five year old, not a nearly-grown eleven year old.
[a/n: How well'd I do? I don't think Harry's managing to stay terribly Gryffindor here... but he's really wanting answers more than he wants to stick to type. Leave a review!]