When Harry went for his breakfast the next day, he heard his name being mentioned in a conversation between his Aunt and Uncle. More out of wanting to gauge the mood of his guardians so that he could avoid any confrontations than out of any curiosity, he stopped just behind the door and strained to listen.

"... Believe me Vernon, any letter from that place for Harry would have arrived by now!" Aunt Petunia seemed to be whispering furiously.

"Yes, but-"

"No buts. Even if things have changed from Lily's time, any normal school expects to hear a response from new students at least a month ahead of the start of its session! I think that freak school is no longer interested in Harry."

Harry could almost hear a sigh of relief from his aunt as she explained her point of view to Uncle. If only she knew the half of it. Harry had figured out what letter she could be talking about, after all. Still mulling over the discovery that Aunt knew much more about that Hogwarts letter than him, Harry almost missed what Vernon said next.

"...still a freak! I say, or have you forgotten the snake the ruddy brat set on our Dudley, on his birthday no less?! I say if that hocus-pocus school is no longer interested in him, we kick that ungrateful twerp out! I don't want a freak like him anymore in this house!"

"Be reasonable Vernon. How often has he done magic recently? Lily used to do it all the time when her letter came. I think he is already normal enough for the freaks to not want him. I'll squash the last bits of freakiness out of him within an year I say."

"Still a freak," grumbled Vernon.

"He's my only link to my dead sister!" Countered Petunia. As Harry's eyes widened over the increasingly abnormal conversation he was hearing, she continued, "I won't let you or anyone turn him away. Especially as he seems to be growing out of his freakiness…"

"MOMMY! HARRY IS EAVE- LISTENING ON THE DOOR!" Harry heard Dudley shout from behind. Oh crap! How could I be so foolish! Harry bemoaned dropping his guards as the conversation inside stilled. As he turned to catch a glimpse of his cousin's grinning face, he was abruptly pulled inside by an irate uncle Vernon.

"HOW MUCH DID YOU HEAR?!" He shouted.

Harry wasn't sure what to say. On one hand, his aunt's newfound support would surely be whisked away if he told the truth about the letter. On another, this was a chance for him to finally figure out what was going on here.

"Answer me, boy!"

Harry decided to keep the letter a secret. After all, he spent much less time around his Uncle than with his Aunt. If his aunt were to stop shouting at him at every opportunity, his life here would become much more comfortable.

However, the opportunity to say anything was taken out of his hands by a knock on the door.

"Dudley, open the door," said Uncle Vernon.

"Make Harry do it."

Uncle put Harry down rather forcefully. "Go get the door. And we'll be having a word later."

Sighing, Harry swiftly rushed to get the door, only to come face to face with a rather tall woman wearing emerald cloak and a matching pointed hat. Her wrinkled face softened upon seeing him, a gesture which was caught by Harry. It immediately catapulted her into the list of people he was sure were on his side, which only included Mrs. Figg, Mrs. Yvonne, and one of his primary school teachers. He decided he would cooperate with the woman henceforth, unless it came to blows that is.

"Good morning Mr. Potter. I am Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. May I come in?"

"Who's there?" asked uncle Vernon.

"Uh… sure." Harry nervously beckoned the oddly dressed lady inside the living room. He still had half a mind to turn her back, but the care in her eyes when she looked at him had convinced Harry that whatever she had to say might be worth it. They came face to face with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, who had themselves come inside the living room.

"YOU!" Aunt Petunia shrieked, earning herself a questioning look from Uncle which she ignored.

"Yes it's me Mrs. Dursley," McGonagall replied, only a hint of bemusement showing up on her face. "Now I would like to know why this young man here," she said, gesturing to Harry, "did not reply to his letter?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Aunt Petunia replied briskly.

"Um… I-I got the letter from Hogwarts a month ago." Harry hesitantly addressed his aunt, eliciting a sharp gasp.

"Now wait just a moment," said Uncle Vernon, his moustache bristling, "Who IS she, Petunia?"

"She was the one who came to give the letter to Lily!" She replied, before turning to Harry. "When did you receive that wretched letter? And why didn't you tell me before?"

"It's no problem Aunt," explained Harry, "There was no stamp on the letter so I thought it was just a joke for quite a while." Carefully studying her aunt's expression, he added, "I also wasn't sure how and where to send an Owl. I know owls aren't sold in the market." Twiddling his fingers, he softly added, "It won't matter anymore, the letter had to be answered by yesterday."

"I take it you have, unlike what headmaster Dumbledore asked you to, not told Harry anything… am I right Mrs. Dursley?" Mcgonagall inquired in a tight voice. You see Mr. Potter…"

"STOP!" Yelled Uncle Vernon suddenly, "I forbid you to tell him anything!"

As an irate… witch? Seemed to prepare herself to tear down into the Dursleys, Harry thought quickly before softly distracting the lady, "Excuse me miss?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" McGonagall turned to him, visibly composing herself.

"Um… if I went to Hogwarts, how much time would I spend there? And for how long daily will I return here...?"

Caught off guard by the rather odd question for someone who, she believed, was unaware how the magical world worked, replied, "You see, Hogwarts is a boarding school. So, you only return in the summers, or, if you so wished, for Easter or Christmas. And why, prey tell, would that be the first question you ask?"

Harry closed his eyes for a moment, shrugged, took a deep breath, then turned to face his guardians. "I figured out that I must be a wizard," he said, ignoring gasps from the Dursleys, "when I got the letter. It explains a lot of things that have happened around me, doesn't it? I surely don't belong with decent people like you,, right? Were I to go, I would be out of your hair for at least nine months… and I promise I'd stay perfectly normal for the ones I spend at home."

When he put it that way, he was sure even Uncle Vernon would see that his going off to this Hogwarts school, wherever it was, would take the much hated nephew of his away from his sight for better part of an year.

"Alright," Vernon grunted, "but I'm not paying a single penny only so you can learn some stupid mumbo-jumbo…"

McGonagall allayed his worries, however. "You don't have to worry about that. Lily and James already paid for his stay at Hogwarts when he was registered at his birth." She whispered to Harry, "well done young man."

Harry gave her a tight-lipped smile before pressing home his advantage, "So that's settled then Uncle. Since I don't really belong with normal folk like you, maybe I'd find somewhere I belong out there. Once I do, I promise you won't have to put up with me anymore."

Harry cast a sidelong glance to McGonagall, who seemed slightly nauseated, perhaps from seeing how much the notion of getting rid of Harry pleased Vernon. "I think," she slowly said, "I better take this young man out with me to make him familiar with his own world, and to take him out of your hair, as he said."

Once outside, Harry wondered how had he managed to convince the Dursleys, especially his uncle, so easily. It surely reaffirmed the fact that soft words and a bit of buttering were ironclad ways to make his short-tempered but simple-minded bigot of an uncle see reason. Make him feel superior, and he'll agree to most things. Harry felt rather proud of himself for having mastered the technique of saving his hide from the Dursleys…

"Hold on to my arm Mr. Potter."

"Oh? Erm, okay." As Harry complied, McGonagall twisted and he felt a sharp tug, as if he was being pulled inside a thin tube through his navel. Before he knew it, the scenery around him changed to what looked like a small, dingy place with a few round tables surrounded with wooden chairs, and a bar off to a side, tended by a bald bartender. A soft buzz of conversation pervaded the air. The place was too dark and shabby to be one of those Hamburger joints Dudley bragged about… "What is this place exactly?"

McGonagall replied, "It's the Leaky Cauldron, the oldest pub of England. I'm surprised you did not ask about how we came here though…?"

Harry merely shrugged. "It was almost like that one time when I ended up on the roof while being chased…" he explained nonchalantly. "I guess I'm not really surprised by magic. There was a reason my Aunt and Uncle treated me differently I think."

McGonagall seemed to think for a bit, before leading Harry to a small table cramped right in a corner of the pub. As Harry sat down, she went and ordered breakfast for the both of them.

Harry closed his eyes and took a whiff of the sweet-smelling air. He was already liking this place with its cozy, shadowed decor and the nice, soft hum of voices. He thought about how Mrs. McGonagall had gotten angry at the Dursleys for hiding something from him, and how he had managed to diffuse the situation. Not that he minded things being hidden from him, he was used to it, but it had sure felt nice having someone stand up for him. He, once again, felt he could trust this person.

"Open your eyes, Harry," McGonagall asked. Harry complied to see his end of the table occupied by a loaded plate. "I admit I'm surprised by you taking everything so calmly. I remember how excited your Mother had been when she first discovered magic. Anyways, I'd like to introduce you to our world. Your world. By all means, Petunia must have told you at least something, but I can see you really don't know anything about wizards. I usually explain these things in front of the parents, but your guardians were glad enough to see your back."

Harry thought about it for a moment, before softly chuckling, "I used to be like that, erm Miss...?"

"Professor."

"Professor, when I was a kid I guess. But there's no point getting all worked up isn't it? Even if magic is real, it only means that I am different from the Dursleys. I have already known that somewhere inside. Um… will magic be able to heal my eyes?"

"We can stop by at St. Mungo's perhaps. The magical hospital." Professor frowned thoughtfully, as Harry slowly nibbled his sausages. "You are a bit too thin. Even your father wasn't so scrawny when he first came to Hogwarts. I think we should get a full health check-up done for you."

"Um, I- er… don't really eat too much. I used to when I was young, but I often get punished, you know? I sometimes wasn't allowed food for days. I guess my body adjusted. I don't need even a quarter of the food Dudley eats." Harry gently pushed his half-eaten breakfast away.

Professor seemed to be frowning for some reason. Thinking he had offended her, Harry quickly pulled his plate back to him and started trying to stomach more of the porridge. "No son, you don't need to eat all of it, It's okay. Though it does seem like your diet is much less compared to what should be healthy… perhaps your magic has helped your body adjust to it. I had told Albus… never mind. Now listen carefully Mr. Potter- There are some people like you and me, who have a special gift. We are basically connected to an additional source of energy, which is simply called magic. It is connected to and controlled by our minds, so the only thing which matters is one's will power and the capacity to draw upon magic. Magic is often used to condition our bodies, which is why wizards live much longer than muggles, non-magicals that is. We can also survive falls from great heights and do not suffer muggle diseases like flu. Is it clear?"

Harry processed the new information. "Yeah, now I get it why I never fall ill, even if I've not got any vaccines like Dudley."

"Quite right you are. Magical kids like you are not able to control your desires and sometimes draw upon magic to help you accomplish them. More often than not, nothing happens, but sometimes, certain normally unexplained events occur. Can you recall any from your childhood, Mr Potter?"

As Harry related his experiences with accidental magic, he ended up analyzing those situations. It certainly became clear to him that if he wanted something very fiercely, it often ended up happening. "I understand, professor."

"Good. At Hogwarts, you will learn to channel your magic in a controlled way, and to summon its effects at will, not just in emergencies. But by entering magical society, you will be subjected to laws of the Ministry of Magic. You will learn more as you enter the world, but one thing which everyone needs to know is about the Statute of Secrecy. The gist: You cannot perform magic in front of muggles…"

And so the conversation went, till professor McGonagall felt like she had explained everything she needed to. After perhaps an hour or two, she gestured for Harry to stand and follow her.

The two magicians walked to a wall at the other end of the pub. As Harry wondered what new trick was about to be shown, Professor McGonagall tapped the wall with a wooden stick (her wand?) in a pattern which Harry did his best to follow. Suddenly, the wall folded upon itself to reveal an arched gateway, framing a cobblestoned street lined up with various quaint-looking shops. McGonagall entered and asked Harry to follow. As soon as Harry had stepped inside, the wall reappeared. Harry was impressed.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley Mr. Potter."