A spot of lunch and some (sadly non-magical) ice cream later, and Harry was browsing the bookstore while Professor McGonagall waited outside. She'd said that it would probably be better to go through Flourish and Blotts before picking a familiar, which meant that he couldn't take forever looking through the shop, but there was still at least an hour or two before they had to move on. Or there had been—he'd gotten a bit distracted flipping through a book about jinxes that was just too interesting to put down. Harry decided that he could probably splurge a bit here, and dropped the book into a basket that the shop provided to customers that was spelled to be seemingly bottomless. He'd long since picked up all his school books, as well as a few guides to the magical world that seemed to be aimed at Muggle-born kids (and two that were aimed at their parents, just in case). Walking towards the fiction section with his focus entirely on the shelves, he failed to notice the other person doing the same, but starting from the opposite end of the section. They smacked into each other ,Harry turning just in time to see a girl with bushy brown hair fall down clutching her head.
"Sorry! I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." He reached down to help her up, somewhat glad to see that she was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. She probably wasn't one of the purebloods that the professor had warned him about. "Are you okay?"
She let herself be pulled to her feet as she responded. "No, that was all my fault! Really, I've been told before to watch where I'm walking and that I should stop walking if I'm going to look at the books, but I just found out about magic and the whole thing is just so interesting. I'm trying to find common fairy tales to match with muggle versions and see what magical fiction is like as a whole. There doesn't seem to be quite as much variety, but that might be because the population is smaller..." She trailed off, looking up at Harry. "Sorry! I started rambling. My name is Hermione Granger."
He looked back at her, slightly overwhelmed. "Uh. Harry. Potter." Wait, was he supposed to say Evans there? The small gasp coming from Hermione seemed to indicate a yes.
"Are you really? There's a book series about you here in the fiction section! And I saw your name in a few of the history texts, for taking down He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, whoever that is, but there's basically nothing about how that was actually accomplished, and you were only a year old at the time so I can't even ask you?" It was phrased as a question, clearly she hoped that he actually did have the ability to answer any inquiries she was going to make.
"Yes, that's apparently me, but I didn't know any of that until today." Hermione's eyes grew wide at that statement, and she seemed to deflate a bit at the realization that Harry might be more lost than her. "I was brought up by my muggle relatives, so I can't tell you much about the magical world. But the professor who brought me here said that Dumbledore guessed that it was my mother who actually beat him by giving me some sort of protection with her love."
"But how would that even work? There have to have been thousands of people who died trying to get loved ones enough time to get away that didn't actually manage to, so there must have been something else to it. Do you think there's a ritual or ward or-" She cut herself off, noticing Harry seemed to grow more and more confused with each theory.
"I haven't even had a chance to look through all my textbooks yet, Hermione." Harry shuffled his feet. "I… don't usually do that well in school anyway."
"Oh? I can help with that! We can study together, and I can help you with your homework, even if we aren't in the same house!" Hermione seemed to be getting entirely too enthusiastic about helping him. "Do you know whether you're a verbal or visual learner?"
"Um, I have no idea?" Harry watched as she seemed to think for a bit, before muttering "It doesn't really matter, anyway, I'm not supposed to do better than my cousin."
"You're not supposed to do better than your cousin?" Her eyes narrowed, and he suddenly felt his throat go dry. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Uh..." Shite, how was he supposed to get out of this? His first chance to talk to someone without Dudley there to mess it up and he was messing it up all by himself.
"Because I skipped a year and the older kids kept saying that I shouldn't be doing better than them." Hermione was frowning at him now, great. At least he didn't have to come up with an excuse to explain his last comment. McGonagall finding out about everything wasn't great, per se, but at least she didn't seem to be pitying him and had (at least temporarily, though he hoped for longer) gotten him out of the situation. "You can't let others hold you back, you know. I'm sure you're more than capable of doing well if you just try." She paused for a moment. "Is your cousin going to Hogwarts too?"
"No. I don't think my aunt and uncle would have let him—even if he had magic." That was a funny thought, though. Dudley trying to do magic. He'd probably just spend all day making food appear.
"They wouldn't let him?" Her frown deepened. "What does that mean?"
Ah, he really needed to stop saying things. "My relatives didn't really like magic? We weren't supposed to talk about it and my cousin wasn't allowed to watch any programs on the telly about it." There, she couldn't make anything out of that, could she?
"Hmm. Well, in any case, if your cousin isn't going to be at Hogwarts, you don't have to worry about doing better than him, right?" Harry opened his mouth to respond, but froze as he realized that she was probably right, even if he didn't end up getting away from the Dursleys. If he had to stay with them, it was only going to be for two and a half months out of the year. "On top of that, the grading system for magicals is completely different to ours. O is the best grade and an A is just barely above failing, so if you tried to just do the bare minimum your grades would just be a solid block of A's."
"What? Why?" That grading system wasn't even beginning to make any sense.
"Ah, the O stands for Outstanding and A stands for Acceptable. Between those two there's EE, for Exceeds Expectations, and the failing grades are P for Poor, D for Dreadful, and T for Troll." Hermione paused to take a breath. "I think it's a poor grading system, honestly, but it still mostly matches to ours, so I can't complain too much." She turned to look at the shelves. "Really, though, how can they expect anyone to try harder if they're being compared to a troll?"
"Maybe they'll take it as a sign that they should go into toll collection?" Harry replied.
Hermione let out a short giggle. "Oh, yes, clearly. Still, since you don't have to worry about your cousin?"
"Yeah, I guess I can try and do better." He shuffled his feet and looked down at the basket he'd left on the floor. "What did you mean by 'in the same house,' though?" He'd thought the professor had mentioned something about that, but he'd been a bit distracted at the time by a shop window with animated figurines fighting in it.
"Oh, there's four different houses at Hogwarts. They're like dormitory buildings, sort of? Except they're all still in the castle, just that each house has their own common area with their dorms attached to them, which is where you need to be after curfew. And you have classes with your house and one other, usually. And there's some sort of yearly competition, each house trying to earn the most points. There are Quidditch teams for each of the houses too, but I'm still not entirely certain on what Quidditch is beyond a sport." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "I'm sure there's a book on it in here somewhere."
Seeing an opportunity to turn the discussion away from himself, Harry responded. "I could help you look. I think I saw a section for it back near the front?"
"Oh, would you? That'd be great!"
/-|-o-o|-\
Another hour later, and Harry was brought out of his ongoing discussion with Hermione over the merits of a sport played in midair when a slightly miffed looking Professor McGonagall cleared her throat behind him.
"Mr. Evans, if you'd like to pick out a familiar today, we'll need to be going." He turned to look at her and saw the professor looking past him at Hermione. "It's nice to see you again, Miss Granger, if a bit surprising to see you again this soon."
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see Hermione mouth 'Evans?' at him before she replied to Professor McGonagall. "Well, I didn't need anything else, you did an excellent job of getting us all through the alley, but I wanted to see if there were any more books that I might want to read before I got to Hogwarts. I could get through most of the coursebooks without any trouble, however, there were a few things mentioned in the history textbook that I didn't have a reference for."
At this, the professor pointedly looked at the books piled about them, all of them involving the history and rules of Quidditch, with some referencing broom manufacturers. "Indeed. Be that as it may, I have to finish escorting Mr. Evans here, and I'm sure you'll both see each other on the express."
Harry looked around for a moment, before Hermione moved a pile of books to reveal his basket of as-yet unpurchased books. "Ah, right. I'll just go pay for these then..." He trailed off, looking at the girl he had seemingly just met.
"If you don't mind, I can pay for those for you while you finish up with Ms. Granger." Professor McGonagall said.
"Thanks!" Harry handed over a decent chunk of money from his pouch and watched the professor walk towards the counter before turning back to Hermione. "Sorry, guess I just lost track of time." He noticed that she had her eyes narrowed at him.
"Not at all, Mr. Evans." She said, drawing out the name.
Erk. Well, he can't say he hadn't expected that to come back to bite him. "Ah, yeah, the professor wanted me to use my mother's maiden name while we out on the alley. Mr. Ollivander saw right through it, though."
Her expression lightened, and she seemed mollified with the answer. "Is that why you've got that beanie on, then?" At his answering nod, she continued. "Sorry for assuming, just I've had kids lie to me about that sort of thing before you know, 'Oh look it's one of your favorite authors' and the like." She shuffled through a small bag she had on her (a small purse, maybe, Harry hadn't noticed it before, since it was shaped sort of like a book) and pulled out a notepad and a biro. "I thought we could maybe exchange phone numbers?"
Harry grimaced. He wasn't supposed to tell anyone the Dursleys' phone number (Aunt Petunia had locked him in the cupboard for a week the last time he had done that), and since the professor was hopefully taking him away from them it probably wouldn't even matter. "Ah, I'm not really supposed to give out-" He saw her starting to frown, and quickly changed tack. "But I'm getting a familiar next, and even if I don't get an owl, I'll still try and write you if I get your address?"
"Oh." She looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding. "Alright, then, but you might need to tell it to wait for a reply. I wanted a familiar, but my parents are allergic to cats and didn't really think an owl was appropriate to have in a muggle neighborhood." She wrote out her address on the pad, before tearing off the sheet and handing it to Harry who quickly pocketed it. "And if I don't hear from you before term, you can expect me to be searching for you on the train!"
Harry gave a short laugh at that as the professor came walking back over with a bit of change in her hand, watching as Hermione stood hesitantly for a bit before diving back into the books on Quidditch.
/-|-o-o|-\
The first thing that Harry noticed about Eeylops Owl Emporium was the fact that it was remarkably stink-free, despite the sheer number of birds in the shop. A sign on one of the few displays in the store said that all cages and perches sold in the shop had vanishing charms applied to the bottom, guaranteed to last for at least ten years. The shop didn't have anything to take care of the noise that all the birds made, however, which was slightly distracting. As he moved to go further into the shop, he noticed Professor McGonagall looking slightly apprehensive.
"Is there something wrong, professor?" Harry asked, stopping to the side of the doors to let a beleaguered witch pass through with three cages, each with an owl in them.
"It's nothing, Mr. Evans. I just tend to not get along with some owls." She moved to take him into the shop. "As an animagus, it happens sometimes."
"A what?" He briefly stopped as they moved down an aisle, glancing up at the owls flying about the ceiling. Sure enough, some of them seemed to be glaring at the professor.
"An animagus. It means that I can turn into an animal at will." Harry's mouth dropped open. "A cat, to be precise, which is why some of the owls are so put out with me."
"You can turn into a cat?" His excitement was nearly palpable. "Can you teach me how to do that? I'd love to be able to turn into a cat!" He paused for a moment, thinking it over in his head before turning back to Professor McGonagall. "Or a snake, since I can already talk to them."
The professor started badly and turned pale, peering closer at him. "You can talk to snakes, Mr. Evans?" She whispered.
"Well, yeah? They're not great conversationalists, to be honest. They mostly just care about food, sun, and 'clutches,' whatever those are." Harry thought it over for a moment. "Oh, and they all have strange names, like She-Who-Slithers-On-Cloudy-Paths."
If anything, that made the professor seem even fainter. "Don't speak parseltongue in public!" She sounded almost panicked.
"What? I didn't! I was talking in English the whole time!" Harry protested. "Hey!" Professor McGonagall had grabbed his arm and was dragging them deeper into the shop, almost entirely to the back.
"When you tried to say whatever that name was, you spoke in parseltongue." She said, in a furious whisper. "Parseltongue being the language of snakes, with speakers of it being known as Parselmouths." He wanted to interrupt with questions, but before he could start asking the professor continued talking. "It's an extraordinarily rare ability, and the most recently known wizard who had it was Death's Flight." Harry was starting to match the professor's paleness. "It would not do to draw attention to the fact that you can speak it, Mr. Evans." He nodded mutely, afraid that if he tried to speak again he'd accidentally start speaking parseltongue instead. Professor McGonagall let out a sigh, and reached out to grasp his shoulder before pulling her hand back when he flinched. "It's not dark by itself. Just… try to be careful about who you tell of it, alright?"
"Yes, Professor." He said, staring at the ground rather than meeting the professor's eyes.
/-|-o-o|-\
An hour later, Harry was waiting in a room in Hogwarts, having been led through a fire by the professor directly into the castle. Professor McGonagall had told him that it was a guest room, and would probably be where he'd be staying for the next few days. His trunk was at the foot of the bed, propped open on the library compartment with books haphazardly spilling out in a poor first attempt at organizing them. The room itself wasn't too large, having only the four-poster bed, a desk, a wardrobe, and a bookshelf. The color scheme was a neutral light blue and brown, not close enough to Ravenclaw colors to make it overly house-biased compared to some of the decorations he'd seen coming in through the great hall. There was an attached bathroom with a full bath, however, which was a luxury Harry had never had before that he was eager to try out.
"It just seems too good, though, girl." He said, glancing over towards his recently acquired companion from where he was lying down on the bed. After the terrifying chat with the professor in the owl shop, they'd managed to come across a beautiful snowy owl that Harry instantly attached to. He'd taken the time to go through some of his textbooks before picking out the name Hedwig for her, and she seemed pleased with his decision. "I don't think I've ever slept in a bed this soft before."
"Hooo." Hedwig looked at him from her perch, and he could sense a feeling of… comforting, coming from her?
"Uh, thanks." Was there some sort of guide for half-talking to animals? It wasn't the same as talking to snakes, obviously, since there weren't any words, but it still seemed like she was actually communicating with him.
"Hooo." And now a feeling of contentment. Harry could tell it wasn't exactly his contentment, either.
"I don't suppose you have any idea how I should organize the books?" He said, gesturing vaguely in the direction of his trunk. She tilted her head, and Harry felt confusion coming across the link between them. "I didn't think so." Pushing himself up off the bed, he looked over at the desk, a few sheets of parchment and some quills waiting to be used on it. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out the piece of paper with Hermione's address on it. Was it too soon to be writing her? For that matter, how did owls know where to find people anyway? "Hedwig?" Harry called over.
There was a rush of feathers and suddenly she was perched on Harry's shoulder, peering down at the piece of paper in his hand. "Hooo." Now it was a feeling of 'yes I can find this place.' Sort of like… knowing where your car was parked when you left the grocers', if he had to describe it.
"I'm going to write a letter to Hermione, girl. You might need to wait for a response from her, she doesn't have an owl of her own." Harry got back a feeling that seemed to mean 'yes,' and he sat down at the desk and began writing to her.
/-|-o-o|-\
Minerva smoothed down her robes as she walked towards the headmaster's office. She had managed to find a suitable guest room for Mr. Potter, somewhat saddened by the fact that it seemed he and Ms. Granger were going to end up in Ravenclaw. At least the boy had made a friend, something he was in sore need of based on what she had seen earlier that morning. As she stepped in front of the gargoyle that led to Dumbledore's office, she paused a moment to collect herself before giving the password. A minute later and she was standing in front of the desk, still piled with paperwork, that Dumbledore was sitting behind.
"Ah, Minerva. I trust young Harry has gotten his school supplies?" He asked, without looking up from the report he was currently engrossed in, his robes still as infuriatingly bright as they were when she met him this morning.
"Yes, Headmaster, he's gotten all his school supplies." She paused for a moment, before continuing. "And he's currently in one of our guest rooms."
Dumbledore looked up at her, a slight frown appearing as he took in her expression and the coolness of her tone. "Minerva, why is Harry here? You know we can't keep him in the castle over the summer, not without authorization from the board." He spent a moment searching her face for some clue of what might have happened. "There weren't any problems at the alley, were there?"
It took a supreme effort for Minerva to contain her temper, the urge to yell at the man in front of her growing every minute. "No, Dumbledore, there weren't any problems at the alley."
"Then what-"
"There was, however, an issue before that. Did you know, Dumbledore?" She could feel the slight edge to her voice, but was too far gone to start caring. "Did you know that they didn't even clothe him properly?"
"His relat-" was as far as Dumbledore got before she cut him off.
"Oh, yes, his relatives. They made him perform all the manual labour around the house, starved him, refused to even give him room beyond the CLEANING CUPBOARD UNDERNEATH THE STAIRS!" Minerva looked at the speechless expression on the headmaster's face, and kept going. "I've seen house elves treated with more respect than Harry, and who've had to do less work. If I have to take the child in myself this summer, I'll gladly do so. But we have at least a week before the board needs to be notified, and I'll be damned before I allow you to place him back with those people." There was a palpable aura of anger starting to emanate from Dumbledore now. "I'm more surprised we don't have another obscurial on our hands, given that from what little I managed to get Harry to talk about today they tried on multiple occasions to literally BEAT THE MAGIC OUT OF HIM!"
Dumbledore held up his hands, stopping the rant. "He will not be going back to that house." The sheer force of his statement sent Minerva rocking back, laced with magic from the intent behind it. "Now, as you have said, we have a week to find an alternative to taking this up with the board. Do you have any suggestions beyond the offering of your own home?"
"Unless we wanted to relocate Mrs. Figg, I don't know that there's anyone we could trust to keep this quiet from our usual circles." She took a moment to think, staring at the portraits, most of which were trying to feign sleep while still attentively listening in. "He did meet Ms. Granger this afternoon, and they seemed to be getting along, but I'm not sure if the Grangers would be looking to take in another child, even for just a few months out of the year."
Dumbledore steepled his fingers. "They might not be, but given that it would only be for the summer months, maybe the holidays if they get along, they might be willing." He let out a sigh. "And I do seem to recall you mentioning that young Miss Granger was somewhat isolated from her peers, which would make having a friend stay over more enticing."
"Yes, but there's quite a difference between having a sleepover and inviting a random boy into your house for the next seven summers!" Minerva responded. "I'll send them a letter, if nothing else we could probably get a few extra days if they're willing to host him that long, but we should still keep searching."
"I quite agree." He pulled a pocket watch out of his robes, briefly checking the time before clicking it shut and standing up. "Now, though, I think we should get some dinner and discuss things with Harry."
/-|-o-o|-\
AN: So, first off, sorry this took so long but real life hates me! Also if you for some unknowable reason like what I'm writing, I've got a kofi page set up (it's just /slynnwen)
[McG knowing way more about Harry's life than was shown] - She's an educator with decades of experience, and there were long stretches of time in the alley not shown. She got more of the story out of Harry then.
[Why the snitch is important] - I'm going to try and unfuck Quidditch, even if I never actually write any Quidditch games because they're god awful to read.
[Familiars] - Now with actual mechanics and semi-relevance beyond carrying the post!
[Animagi] - Also slightly changed! Or majorly changed? For such a neat concept with a lot of implied rules, almost nothing ever got explained about them in canon, so...
[Parseltongue] - I've got a whole thing planned out for how parseltongue works that probably has nothing in common with canon and has more plotholes than is reasonable, but magic woo!
[McG yelling at Dumbledore] - I can easily see her ranting at him, and then he just does that "I'm over a century old and powerful and also angry at the situation" thing and she just kind of shuts down because it's rare to see Dumbledore that level of angry (the similarities to Ariana do nothing good for his temper on the issue), but will begin working with him once it's apparent he didn't actually know the extent of what was going on with the Dursleys. They haven't begun considering action against the Dursleys yet because helping Harry comes first. Also important to remember: intent is the main driving factor of HPverse magic, which is why Dumbledore's statement had the effect it did.
[Pronouns for Harry] - These are going to be a mess, as a warning in advance, partially because at the moment in-story Harry still doesn't know that being trans is a thing, and it's going to be awkward if the pronouns in the author's notes don't match up with the ones in the chapter. Non-zero chance I stick with 'they' for Harry in the author's notes until Harry in-story fully switches over to female pronouns.