Notes: I do not own the rights to Harry Potter. All characters and subject matter are the property of their creator, JK Rowling, to whom I am most grateful for creating my favorite sandbox to play in.

Chapter 2: Ten Years of Subjugation

Harry had spent the last several hours with his head in the past. The Dursleys and Harry had been traveling from one town after the next, with Dudley's whinging hitting a crescendo before his father finally shouted at him to be quiet as they pulled into a dingy hotel in a place called Cokeworth. True, it had been the longest he'd been allowed out of the house for anything other than working in the garden, but he couldn't lie to himself and pretend it was a pleasant trip. He'd spent the better part of the day regretting his hesitation when the first letter arrived addressed to him. What could have changed, he wondered, if he'd just stuffed it into his pocket before Dudley had caught up with him?

He couldn't be sure, but he had a feeling he wouldn't be here, trying not to think about what might have created the stains in his and Dudley's shared hotel room's peeling wallpaper. Once Vernon had gotten his hands on the first letter, it seemed the beefy man had been one step ahead of him at every turn. Even trying to sneak downstairs before the postman arrived proved to be not quite enough, and each time Vernon threw another letter into the fire, Harry's curiosity burned all the brighter. Whatever was in those letters, Harry knew it had to have something to do with all of the strange things that happened to him for his whole life. The way his hair grew back overnight when it was cut, how he managed to suddenly appear on the roof of his school or just out of Dudley and his gang's reach when he just ithought/i about getting away. Even his chat with a boa at the zoo had him wondering if there was more to these events than the Dursleys, who hated anything abnormal, had let on.

It wasn't as though he could ask them, though. To even bring up the word 'magic' was treated like some horrible crime in the Dursley household. So he kept his mouth shut as much as possible and let his mind drift away to possibilities. Whatever the letters had in store for them, he had a sneaking suspicion it would be much more interesting than what the Dursleys had in mind for him. He thought of the grey rags Petunia was dying for him to wear to Stonewall with a grimace. Maybe it would be a different school inviting him to study there instead?

He snorted with laughter, earning a glare from his cousin. As if that would ever happen.

Breakfast the next morning was tinned tomatoes and stale cereal. Not too far off from what Harry was accustomed to when he was fed. Dudley, despite his protestations that he was starving, seemed to have found the energy to complain about it. When the owner approached the table with a letter in her hand, he nearly jumped out of his seat.

"'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr. H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of these at the front desk."

Harry's eyes widened as he reached for the letter-another one, addressed this time to the hotel they sat in-but again, Vernon was faster than him, smacking his hand out of the way and taking the letter for himself. If the hotel owner was shocked at such a display she didn't say anything about it.

"Ah, not to worry, I'll take care of those," Vernon had said hastily, taking the letter and following her out to the office. Harry slumped into his chair, defeated now but even more determined to succeed next time, now that he knew whoever was sending these letters was even more persistent than he'd first imagined.

Of course, it was difficult to imagine just how he'd get his hands on the letter when each time the sender become more and more creative than the last. So while they packed quickly and got in the car to keep going on their increasingly arduous journey, Harry was unable to think of any solid plan for nabbing one of those letters. As much as he enjoyed being out of the cupboard regardless of circumstance, at least things (and by proxy opportunities to snatch a letter) were a little more predictable.

By the time Vernon returned from yet another small office in the middle of nowhere he looked madder than he'd ever looked to Harry's recollection and likely Dudley and Petunia's if he were to judge their stricken faces. Even Harry was wary as Vernon told them to unload their bags in the driving rain and pile into a rickety little boat. It was the first time in the past two days he'd seen Petunia open her mouth to protest, watching her husband, drenched in the downpour, with a look of fear and sadness Harry had never seen in her before. Even Dudley, who Harry'd not seen cry in years, let out a pathetic little sob.

Maybe if they'd not all been so awful to Harry for so long he'd feel bad for them all, but right now he just wanted to know what was so important in those letters that his uncle was now ready to risk their very lives to keep it a secret.

In the end, they all begrudgingly piled into the small boat, and though it rocked and creaked dangerously in the torrential downpour, they had somehow made it to the rickety little cabin that sat at the center of the raging lake. Rain pummeled the roof of the drafty cottage and the wind threatened to topple it over, but no one complained, not even Dudley.

It all seemed unreal when he'd stood in Diagon Alley with his companion, a man easily as tall as two men stood on top of each other, his arms laden down with bags of books and quills and magical equipment that, until just a couple days prior had seemed only imaginary. The revelation that he was a wizard ('and a thumpin' good one') let alone famous was huge. It helped that he'd always fantasized to a lesser degree about something like this happening; perhaps he didn't realize magic itself was real but just having someone who seemed to care about him at his side felt like a huge improvement.

Of course, finding out he'd be going to a magical school in September instead of Stonewall had made a huge impression too. He tried to learn as much as he could about the school from Hagrid, and although he seemed to have some choice words about some of the people that went there ('not a single wizard's gone bad that wasn't a Slytherin') he tried to keep an open mind about the whole experience. After all, hadn't he been afraid to say Voldemort's name? True, Harry did have to admit he knew very little about the magical world, but that had struck him as odd and he resolved not to let it color his views of the school before he even stepped foot in it.

His resolute decision made things both easier and more complicated when he'd finally made it onto the Hogwarts Express. With access to his trunk finally granted (Vernon had locked it and all of his supplies up as soon as he'd gotten home from Diagon Alley), Harry almost tripped over himself trying to get at the books inside. It wasn't like it mattered, of course; he had known nothing about magic even existing until just a few short weeks ago and all of it was completely brand new material.

Still, he settled down with his copy of The Standard Book of Spells, eager to begin at least memorizing some incantations when Magical Theory and Magical Drafts and Potions seemed to be biting off a bit more than he could chew. It was a welcome respite after he'd finally given up on putting his trunk up in the storage bin, deciding instead to slide it under his seat. He listened to the family of redheads who'd helped him cross the barrier chatting outside his compartment window.

Though he felt a little guilty for it he found it rather difficult not to notice, though he did try to focus on his book instead, raising it further to his face. It was convenient he was alone because he could feel a blush creeping on his face as he listened to them talk more and more about none other than him. While he understood that he was supposedly famous in the magical community it didn't change how awkward it was to hear a little girl beg her mother to let her come look at him. He thought of the snake in the zoo and suddenly imagined himself in its place, with people gawking at him all day. He shook his head quickly, willing the image away, and redoubled his efforts to focus on the book.

It seemed to work, because he didn't even notice when the compartment door slide open, though Hedwig hooted helpfully and that got his attention. Three of the redheaded siblings were standing there, and although he'd already heard their names, he nodded politely as they introduced themselves. Petunia had made something of a sport of eavesdropping, so Harry had naturally come to hate it himself, even when it was unavoidable.

"I'm Fred-"

"-I'm George-"

"-and this is our brother, Ron."

Fred glanced down at the trunk underneath Harry's seat curiously. "You know, we could help you put that in the storage loft if you''d like," he offered. Harry bit his lip, not sure where he stood between being offered help here and 'It's Harry Potter, I know it, I saw the scar'. In the end he just smiled and shook his head.

"No, it's alright, but thank you for offering," he replied politely.

"Nevermind that, he's already reading his schoolbooks, anyway. Look out, Ron, you're going to have some catching up to do," George ribbed, nudging his younger brother with an elbow. The twins were laughing as they turned around left the compartment, but Ron was decidedly sient, casting a rueful glance at the seat in front of Harry.

"D'you mind if I sit with you?" Ron all but mumbled.

"Oh, no, of course not," Harry replied, gesturing at the seat in front of him. He did make a small effort to return to his book, not sure if a conversation with the boy was an inevitability or not, at least not straight away. The feeling of Ron's eyes on the fringe of his hair told Harry otherwise.

There was a long, uncomfortable silence, although it could have only been a few seconds, before Harry glanced up, meeting the other boy's gaze. Apparently, this had been what ht was waiting for-which made sense to Harry when he thought about it. Most people didn't try to carry on conversations with people who had their nose in a book, did they?

"So is it true? Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron asked tentatively.

Harry gave an amused smile. He closed the book in one hand, leaving a finger as a place marker somewhere near the section about levitation charms, and used his free hand to brush up his fringe. It was evidently the tell-tale sign of who he was, something that was equal parts amusing and annoying. For a quick, fleeting second, he considered letting his hair grow even longer to hide it better. The idea would benefit him twofold, because not only would fewer strangers recognize him wherever he went, Petunia would have an absolute fit about it when he returned home for the summer.

"Yup," he replied, adding words to the gesture if only to exercise a skill he'd not been able to practice before. Having friends around Dudley and his gang was strictly prohibited, and any kids who had tried to befriend him all quickly learned they'd earn a thumping for it. Even the nicest of kids relented as soon as they saw Dudley and Piers and their other little cronies advancing on them, leaving Harry to go through his first years of schooling entirely friendless.

"Blimey! That's amazing!" Ron exclaimed with unrestrained excitement.

Harry chuckled and flattened his hair as best he could. Although it made him a bit uncomfortable, stirring something up in his stomach he couldn't exactly put a finger on, he brushed those feelings aside. The idea of having friends, any friends, easily silenced his discomfort. Still, he felt like it was important to perhaps keep an eye on Ron; it was too hard to tell now if there even was a chance for a real friendship or if Ron was just starstruck meeting a person whose name he'd heard probably for his entire life.

"Sorry, I just-I thought maybe Fred and George were having a go at me, you know? Making things up."

Harry shrugged, hoping he looked casual.

"So is it true?" Ron continued, and Harry raised a quizzical brow. "Did You-Know-Who do that?" Ron looked a little queasy, as if he wasn't entirely on board with getting into the details of such a story, but couldn't contain his curiosity either.

"Yeah-I mean, that's what I'm told." Ron looked at him expectantly, so he continued. "I really don't remember much. Just a lot of green light and my forehead-my scar, I guess-hurting a lot." He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. Then he realized his own curiosity was gnawing at him.

"So is everyone in your family magical?" Harry asked, and Ron seemed to smile a little when posed a question himself.

"Uh, yeah. pretty sure, but I'm pretty sure mum has a second cousin or something who's an accountant and we don't really talk to them much."

Harry wondered if it was because they were like Uncle Vernon, a bit dull and absolutely despising magic. But he pushed those thoughts aside, his own excitement bubbling up a little. "Wait, so that must mean you know loads of magic then. That's great!"

He wondered for a moment how many spells written in the book he held Ron had already mastered. The Weasleys must have been one of the old wizarding families that the pale, arrogant boy at Madam Malkin's had talked about. But before he could ask him, the door to the compartment slid open again. They both turned to look as a dark-skinned girl with bushy hair hurried in, looking around hastily at every corner of the compartment but the two boys in front of her.

"Have either of you seen a toad?" she asked, finally setting a pair of focused brown eyes on them both. Harry shook his head and glanced at Ron who was also indicating the negative.

"Sorry, I-which compartment are you in? If I see one I can take it to you?" Harry offered.

The girl heaved a sigh of relief. "That would be great, thank you. I'm in compartment 4F by the way-Neville's with me too, he's the one who's lost his pet." She glanced curiously down at the book in Harry's hand and her eyes widened, excitement spreading across her face.

"Already studying too? Good, it's very important to get ahead with your education. I've already taught myself several useful spells." She hurried to sit next to Ron, all but forgetting the toad. One look at Harry's glasses held together only by a bit of tape was enough to prove that Harry himself had not yet mastered any spells.

She studied him briefly and he felt a blush creep up his face under her scrutiny. "Looks like maybe you've not made it yet to the repairing charm? It's very simple, really." She reached a hand into the pocket of her school robes that she'd apparently already changed into and pulled out her wand, pointing it directly at Harry's face.

He didn't even have a chance to protest.

"Oculus reparo!"

She swished her wand smartly, like maybe she really had done this a few times over summer holiday, and he immediately pulled his glasses off to inspect. Sure enough the frames were no longer broken and he peeled the now unnecessary tape off.

"I-thank you," he managed, slipping the glasses back onto his face. She smiled and sat up a little straighter, and Harry could have sworn he saw Ron roll his eyes. He quickly continued, hoping to stop Ron from saying something rude. "Looks like I have a lot of catching up to do. I've only just gotten a chance to start reading."

"Happy to help. And why-what happened? Did you buy your supplies late? Deupty Headmistress McGonagall took me to Diagon Alley straight away to get mine and I've been practicing ever since."

"Well, I mean, I got my supplies ages ago, but my family-they, erm... don't really like magic, so they locked it all up until today."

The bushy haired looked as though he'd just told her they'd beaten him. Her mouth dropped open and it seemed to take her a great amount of effort to find a reply. "They-what? Who could do such a thing?" she asked, sounding outraged.

Harry shrugged. "I dunno-Muggles, I guess?"

"Well, my parents are Muggles and they've been incredibly supportive," she replied pointedly. Harry nodded, relenting.

"Fair enough. My family is a different sort of Muggle, though, that's for sure."

She nodded as if she understood more than perhaps he'd have expected. "Right, that makes sense. Oh! I can't believe I didn't-I'm Hermione Granger," she said, sticking her hand out. Harry and Ron shook it in turn, though Ron seemed a little more hesitant at first.

"Ron Weasley," he muttered.

If she noticed Ron's behavior she didn't seem to react, turning back to Harry. "And you're Harry Potter. I read all about you in 'The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts'. I imagine if your family hates magic they didn't tell you much about your past, did they?"

It was a brilliant assessment, and Harry couldn't help but feel in awe of the girl in front of him. He shook his head, which was enough for her.

"Well, you're more than welcome to borrow it anytime. I got all of the required reading for school, of course, but there were just so many other fascinating books that I had to get all of the ones that interested me. 'A History of Hogwarts' and 'Hogwarts, A History' may seem like redundancy in the same collection, but both books have information the other lacks."

Harry was floored. She seemed just as eager as him to make friends, real friends, and although he wasn't sure he'd be delving into Hogwarts' history so diligently, he felt a sparkle of hope that she might be the sort of friend that lasts a lifetime. Maybe he'd even read 'Hogwarts, A History' once he was up to speed in his actual classes. Any excuse to spend time with his new friend was more than welcome.

And all too soon she was standing again, smoothing down her skirt. "Anyway, I had better get back to looking for Neville's toad. It was good to meet you both, though." She spared them both one final glance before striding out of the compartment.

"Show off," Ron muttered bitterly, staring dejectedly out of the window.

Harry's brows furrowed, but he didn't get a chance to reply. The door slid open once again and three more students arrived; he recognized one as the pale boy he'd met in Diagon Alley.

"Heard you were sitting here, so I wanted to come and make your acquaintance properly. These two are Crabbe and Goyle," he said, gesturing to the two huge boys that flanked him like bodyguards in turn, "and I'm Malfoy. Draco." He extended a hand, and for the third time today he found himself shaking hands with someone. Sure, he'd been a bit of an arrogant little jerk, painfully reminiscent of Dudley back home, but there was something else in those grey eyes today. It was like an eagerness to please, and he seemed happy when their hands clasped.

Just as Harry was beginning to think it may not be so difficult to make friends at school (Ron would surely come around from his little bit of jealousy), Draco pulled the proverbial rug out from under his feet. "And I'd be happy to help you, you know. After living with Muggles I'm sure you don't know much about our kind. It's a pity to be sure, but I'd be more than happy to help you make friends with the right sort." He glanced disparagingly at Ron and Harry felt his blood boil.

It didn't matter much to him that he'd just met Ron and his brothers, and all annoyance at Ron for his rudeness before fell away.

"The right-the right sort?" Harry repeated.

Draco didn't seem to pick up on Harry's spark of anger. "He's a Weasley. They're a family of pureblood wizards, sure, but they're a disgrace to the name of wizard. You'd be better off making friends with people of better, ah... history."

Honestly, did everything have to be difficult? He wondered if these old wizarding families were anything more than a complex web of animosities and alliances and he sighed, trying to measure his words carefully.

"I'm gonna be honest with you, Draco, I think that's a bunch of crap." Sure, Ron had been a bit of an ass, but Draco was being an even bigger one. He glanced at Ron who interrupted his glares at Draco to give Harry a lopsided smile.

Draco's eyes narrowed, and Harry saw a flicker of confusion in them before they hardened and sparkled with what could only be described as malice. "I'd watch myself if I were you. Don't want to end up like your precious parents."

Harry's eyes narrowed "Oh, and who's going to make that happen? You?"

Draco looked taken aback but quickly regained his footing.

He didn't get a chance to respond when a smiling woman entered the cabin, pushing a trolley of sweets. By the time Harry glanced her way and then back at Draco and his cronies they were already gone, headed back the way they came.

"Anything off the trolley, dears?" Harry's stomach gave a loud grumble and though he didn't recognize any of the brands on it he bought a little of everything.

After a bit of bartering, he and Ron sat in companionable silence snacking on sweets and sandwiches Ron's mother had packed for him. Although a bit dry like Ron had predicted, Harry couldn't say he'd ever had a better sandwich in his life and wondered if all of Mrs. Weasley's cooking was this good.

"I, erm... thanks. For earlier," Ron said, finally breaking the silence.

Harry, who had just captured a chocolate frog making a valiant effort to escape being eaten, smiled. "You're welcome. Honestly, I don't know what his problem is."

"He's a git," Ron offered and Harry howled with laughter.

"Yeah, that's exactly right."

"So are you really studying already?"

Harry glanced down at the book of spells. "Yeah. I mean, I really don't know anything at all about magic. And Hermione can already cast spells. I bet she's even made some potions too."

"Yeah, but that's not normal. I bet most of the other First Years have never cast a spell or brewed a potion in their lives."

Harry shrugged. "I guess. Still, you guys with magical families, know about more stuff than I do. I'm already way behind and I just got here."

"You'll do fine." Ron's voice was reassuring.

"Well, I think at least just to be on the safe side-"

Ron was laughing and Harry nearly lost his grip on the struggling frog (that was oddly not melting in his hands) in his surprise. "Well, I guess I know what House you're being sorted into. Ravenclaw."

Harry was thoughtful for a moment. Ravenclaw? He didn't know much about the Houses-only that Hagrid seemed to dislike Slytherin-and only shrugged. "Maybe. What about you?"

"Well, my five brothers and my parents were all Gryffindors, so I'm probably going to go there."

"Well, who knows? Maybe we'll both be in that one."

And with that Harry bit the head off of his chocolate frog, earning a bolt of laughter from Ron. So the boy could be a little jealous, that much was clear, but at the end of the day, he seemed like as good a friend as any.

It had been hours but seemed like much less time than that when an announcement rang out over the train, warning the students that they were close to Hogsmeade Station.

Harry and Ron quickly hurried into their uniforms and stowed the wrappers from their treats into their trunks. Harry laid the book back in with the rest, determined to continue reading later that night and possibly the next morning. He resolved to check his class schedule as soon as he could so he knew just what he needed to read first.

He sighed with contentment as he pulled on the new clothes, even though the shoes were tight and not broken in yet. Ron looked at him curiously.

"Oh, yeah-sorry. It's just, this is the first time I've ever had my own things. I've only ever gotten my cousin's hand me downs, and the boy is about as big as two of me."

Ron laughed at the image that planted in his head and clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Well, I have five brothers, so I know all about hand me downs..."

By the time they were pulling into the station, Ron had shared with him the details of all of his borrowed things, from his wand to his rat, while Harry explained how he'd never gotten any toys that weren't just cast-offs of Dudley's. He decided to dodge the topic of how little he ate with the Dursleys, instead focusing his attention on Scabbers the rat's sleeping form.

"Boy, he really is pudgy. He and Dudley have a lot in common."

Ron laughed and the rat let out a soft snore. Ron and Harry stared at each other for a moment before breaking into fresh peals of laughter.

it didn't take long for them to figure out where they were supposed to go when they disembarked from the train. A sea of black robes filled the station, but standing above them in stark contrast was Hagrid in his weathered leather coat covered in dozens of bulging pockets.

"Hagrid!" Harry shouted over the din, waving his hand above his head.

After a brief bit of searching, Hagrid spotted Harry and beamed. "Alrigh' there, 'Arry?" He also offered Ron a smile as they two boys approached him, though neither said anything to each other.

"Yes, thank you," he replied, deciding not to mention that he'd almost missed the train entirely for lack of proper instructions on how to actually enter Platform 9 3/4. He wondered not for the first time how Hagrid had managed to let such an important piece of information slip his mind, but brushed the thought aside as Hagrid began calling for the other First Years to join them.

It was clear when they were together, the older students heading down a different path than them, that most of the other First Years knew about as much as Harry. They all looked road-weary after the long journey and as uncertain as he felt. Still, he trusted Hagri, which made it very easy to follow him down a path shrouded in a canopy of low-hanging trees. They rose just a few feet above Harry's head, which meant Hagrid was pushing branches out of his way through the entire trek.

Harry considered asking why they would even choose such a path when they arrived at a sandy bank at the edge of a black lake. In the water floated dozens of little boats, but what caught Harry's attention lay further out on the water. Standing impressively at the top of a high mountain was a castle, its turrets slowly fading and windows sparkling merrily in the growing darkness. From the gasps he heard all around him, Harry realized he wasn't the only one in awe.

"No more'n four to a boat," Hagrid instructed, though he took up one boat by himself. Harry clambered into one of the boats, followed by Ron, Hermione, and Neville, who was clutching a toad in his hands. It reminded Harry of himself not long before, clutching onto a chocolate frog that had every intention of escaping at the first chance. Apparently, the confections were very accurately portrayed.

The toad croaked as if affirming his thoughts.

"I see you managed to find your toad," Harry noted with a small smile.

"Yeah, Trevor doesn't really like traveling," Neville replied. Harry and Hermione shared a glance and had to bite their lips to stop themselves from laughing. Both had a feeling it wasn't just the travel that urged Trevor to seek his freedom at every possible chance, but when Hagrid yelled 'FORWARD!' and the little fleet of boats obeyed, all attention was drawn towards the castle they were now fast approaching.

"Do you think you know which House you'll be in?" Harry inquired in a low whisper.

"Well, I'd personally like to be in Gryffindor," Hermione offered immediately. "It seems like it's the best choice, though Ravenclaw would probably be fitting as well."

"You're really smart, Hermione, I bet you'd be perfect in Ravenclaw."

"You think so?"

Harry, for all of his lack of knowledge, tried to aid their conversation as best he could. "Well, you are brilliant. You've already figured out plenty of magic and we've not even arrived yet. I think Neville's got a point."

Hermione beamed. She turned to the round-faced boy next, tilting her head a little.

"What about you, Neville? Which House do you want to be Sorted into?"

He looked uncertain, nervous even, before shrugging. "Well, I don't think I'd fit in with the Slytherins or the Ravenclaws, and I think Gran would be furious if I was Sorted into Hufflepuff, so I guess I hope I get into Gryffindor." His hands had slackened around Trevor as he spoke and when the toad went to make a terrific leap, he scrambled to quickly close them back around the struggling animal. Harry wondered if he wasn't squashing him he held onto him so hard.

"What about you two?" Neville asked, looking at Ron and Harry.

"Well, I'm probably-definitely- going to be in Gryffindor," Ron supplied.

Harry just shrugged. "We'll see when we get there, I guess." He was nervous, though likely not as nervous as Neville seemed to be. It seemed as thought Gryffindor was the more popular House to be in, at least among present company, but if he was put in another one it wasn't like he'd never see them again, right?

Neville made a breathy sound of amazement, and Harry wondered how uncommon it was to enter the Sorting without some preconceived notion of what House one wanted. Even Ron seemed surprised and then stared over the lake at the castle looming nearer. There was silence for a while, and for the first time, he wondered if he was doing something wrong, but he didn't get a chance to think much about it as their boat bumped to a halt. He had barely noticed that at some point they had gone into a tunnel that likely ran under the castle, preoccupied as he was with concerns about his new friends' judgment, and he resolved to pay more attention to what was going on as he climbed out of the boat and filed up behind Hagrid who waited for them by two huge, oak doors. After all, making friends in the past had been literally impossible for him; maybe he should be proceeding with a little more caution on that front, at least until he got his bearings.

He clambered out of his boat and joined the growing group of students circling around Hagrid. Harry was able to finally look around here, and the only person among them who didn't look fearful- he actually almost looked confident, was Draco Malfoy. It didn't surprise Harry in the least bit and he imagined being flanked by two cronies did a lot to help settle whatever nerves he might have. Their eyes met and Harry managed a weak smile before Draco broke away, looking puzzled. He wasn't even sure why he'd smiled at him-perhaps an effort to cast his line in as many directions as he could and hope something hooked? He was starting to feel like Petunia, and he was suddenly very queasy.

As soon as everyone was standing around Hagrid, he turned and reached one large fist up and knocked hard three times. The doors swung wide almost immediately, and Harry took his first few tentative steps forward into his new life.

A/N: I realize there isn't much new here, but I wanted to tap into some of the bits of canon we may not remember as clearly as others so as to bring ourselves all to the same starting point before delving further into the story. I myself had forgotten that they ended up in Cokeworth-Severus, Lily, and Petunia's hometown- and rather enjoyed compiling this small summary of some events we may have forgotten before Harry started his life at Hogwarts. I appreciate your patience, readers, and hope you will join me as I begin to step into the more exciting (and new) events in Harry and his friend's lives.