Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter
Updated 12 Dec 2017
Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey 24-25 July 1991
Over the next three years Harry's life changed significantly. His uncle kept his word, much to the chagrin of his aunt and cousin. Soon after the deal Vernon had tried to teach Dudley how to do business although his attempts had failed spectacularly. That boy really was just stupid. Vernon stopped poisoning the teachers' opinions about Harry and Harry began to allow himself to excel in school. Harry found he actually enjoyed yard work once he had gardening gloves and was able to make enough money to pay for his needs. Harry hadn't really made any friends. He had plenty of friendly acquaintances and there were at least a handful of students who likely thought of him as their friends but he wasn't particularly attached to anyone. After all, the students were the same ones who had ignored him or helped Dudley bully him.
Harry was mostly ignored at home but that suited him just fine. "Freakish" things had happened with less frequency around him which seemed to cut down on the rants his aunt made. Harry was now allowed to attend business dinners and he proved to be adept at gaining the favor of clients. He was subtle enough that it was not obvious like Dudley's attempts ("I'm writing a paper in school about my hero and I chose you"). Uncle Vernon began to show him grudging respect and started to rant about politics and business to Harry instead of his wife because Harry actually understood him and gave him good ideas. Vernon even earned a promotion at work for using one of Harry's ideas (not that he ever admitted that, but Harry knew).
On the 24th of July Harry was confused and slightly alarmed to find a letter addressed to himself, which specified the comparative size of his bedroom, written in calligraphy with green ink on a heavy stock parchment envelope, genuinely sealed with wax. The letter inside invited him to attend the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and had a supply list that included robes, cauldrons and a wand. Harry didn't know what to think of it. If he had friends perhaps he would have concluded it to be a joke and he couldn't see how such a convoluted scam could possibly work as his response was requested "by owl" whatever that meant. He tossed the creepy letter in his rubbish bin and pushed any thoughts of it from his mind.
The next morning when Dudley fetched the mail there were three more copies of the letter which Harry would have found alarming in and of themselves even without his aunt and uncle's reactions to them. Petunia let out a gasping shriek and Vernon turned a pasty white before rapidly turning a blotched puce. He jumped to his feet and all but shoved Harry and Dudley out of the kitchen, slamming the door. Dudley and Harry briefly scuffled to listen at the keyhole (a fight Harry could never have won considering the boys' respective body masses) before Harry gave it up and dropped to the ground to listen at the crack between the bottom of the door and the flooring.
Through the crack, Harry heard Vernon and Petunia discussing Them and Those Freaks in hushed voices. "I thought we had gotten rid of his freakishness!" Vernon said.
"It doesn't work that way," Petunia replied in an almost petulant tone.
From the almost forgotten recesses of his mind Harry began to recall every freakish thing that had happened around him—objects moving on their own, hair growing back overnight, disappearing in one place and reappearing in another, shrinking jumpers, the teacher's blue hair—and suddenly his world tilted on its axis. Harry had attempted to dismiss these events childish flights of fancy or—when that failed—so suppressed these memories that he had forgotten he had done so because almost any alternative had seemed more plausible than the idea that the laws of physics and reason simply could be broken around him, because of him.
Harry absent mindedly stood up, turned and walked up the steps to his room, shut the door and fished the letter out of the rubbish. By the time he was sitting at his desk staring at the letter he was furious with himself for his own stupidity. He had known he was a freak able to do "freakish" things but he just made himself forget because it didn't jive with his worldview? How stupid—how wasteful of him! A wizard? Even with the evidence of his own experience and his relatives' reactions he was having a hard time believing that. Harry stopped himself and took a deep breath. He pushed away his anger and frustration (not the memories this time!) and thought things over. Once he had calmed down he took out a pen and paper to reply to the letter:
Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall,
I would like to find out more about your school before committing to attend. I, to be quite frank, am skeptical to its existence because of its claim to be a school of witchcraft and wizardry. If you could please send information about your school it would be most appreciated. Thank you, and sorry for any inconvenience.
Sincerely,
Harry Potter
Rereading his letter, satisfied he didn't sound as insane as he felt, he only needed to figure out how to post it. He looked back the acceptance letter, "send by owl." What the heck did that even mean? He heard a hoot to his left and when he looked up he saw a barn own perched on outside of his window sill. He saw that it was fitted with a pouch bearing the same crest on it as his letter. Perhaps they are like carrier pigeons? Well why freaking not at this stage.
He leaned over and opened the window, "Um," Harry said feeling ridiculous for talking to a bird, "Do I er give this to you?" the owl hooted and nodded. Harry folded up his letter and placed it in the pouch. The bird promptly flew off.
Hogwarts, Unplottable Location, Scotland July 26, 1991
Minerva McGonagall burst into the headmaster's office fuming mad causing Fawkes to let out a startled squawk.
"Ah Minerva, would you care for a lemon drop?" Albus asked, ignoring her obvious distress.
"No Albus, I would not care for a ruddy lemon drop!" Her Scottish accent was beginning to bleed through with her temper, "Explain this!" she thrust a letter at Albus Dumbledore. He read it over infuriatingly slowly, "Well dear Harry seems like a well-mannered lad."
"Like a well-manner-?" she spluttered, "He didn't know anything about magic, Albus! Harry Potter knows nothing about magic! Are you sure those muggles are really suitable guardians?"
"I'm sure everything is perfectly fine Minerva." he looked at her imploringly "Do you really think so little of me that you think I would let young Harry live with unsuitable people?" he asked. Minerva looked abashed, "Well I will send our friend Hagrid over to show Harry around."
"Albus, send Hagrid?!" Albus began to interrupt, "Hagrid is my friend of course," she said, "No Hagrid is not the best choice to introduce someone into the wizarding world. I will go like I do with the muggleborn students. I won't take no for an answer, Albus." She said harshly and swept out of the office not leaving him anytime to reply.
Albus Dumbledore looked back at the letter from Harry. This was troubling. The letter was very well written and it sounded like the boy didn't have any help with it either. Regretfully, this was not good news. Albus, in general, liked to see his students succeed but if Harry was as intelligent as he sounded there could be major problems with The Plan. It was also too bad he wrote Minerva instead of him. Hagrid taking him to Diagon Alley was part of The Plan. He would have to introduce Harry to the Philosopher's Stone a different way now.
Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey July 26, 1991
Minerva McGonagall walked briskly down the street of Privet Drive for the first time in ten years wondering, not for the first time, if she had made a mistake back then. Harry Potter not knowing about magic? That should never have been allowed to happen. She was aware Privet Drive offered some very important protections for Harry but it remained to be seen if those protections were worth it. She was wearing a dark green muggle dress and didn't even garner a double look from any of the people on the street, she was much better at blending in than many of her colleges. Sending Hagrid? Now that would have been the height of folly! A man that size would stop muggle traffic.
As Minerva approached Number 4 she saw a boy out working in the garden. He had messy black hair, was rather slim and had wire-framed glasses that kept sliding down his sweating face. Harry noticed her pause at the gate and looked up. He flashed her a friendly smile, brilliant green eyes shining behind their frames
"Good morning ma'am, may I help you?" he asked.
Minerva was nearly stunned speechless by how much he reminded her of both James and Lily in that moment. "Yes I am looking for Mr. Harry Potter, I am a representative of a school that is interested in him," she said although she was aware she was speaking to Harry. She didn't want to make him uncomfortable.
"You're speaking to him," he said removing his gloves and extending his hand. She shook it and introduced herself. "Come on inside my aunt and uncle are out now but will be back soon," Harry certainly hoped they wouldn't but was not about to tell her that. They walked inside and he led her to the sitting room, "Would you like some tea?" he asked.
"No thank you Mr. Potter. I am here from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and I am here to introduce you to the wizarding world." She began to pull out pamphlets and brochures that were given to muggleborn students. She looked him in the eye, "Although I must confess I am surprised you do not already know of it"
Harry nodded, "I assume that's because at least one of my parents attended your school," McGonagall looked surprised that he had deduced this, "I was able to figure it out from what my relatives have said and the fact that you expected me to know."
"Yes, both of your parents went there in fact James and Lily were two of my favorite students" she saw Harry mouthing "James and Lily" as if to test the words out in his mouth. Suspicious she asked, "Do your relatives not talk about them at all?"
"It brings up bad memories, I think" he said not answering directly because yes, in fact his parents used to frequently be the topics of much discussion. However, he was also sure memories his aunt and uncle had of them would be classified as "bad". McGonagall nodded seeming to accept this. They went over the muggleborn brochures and talked about Hogwarts and the wizarding world.
When they reached the brochure that converted the expenses into British pounds, Harry made a small strangled noise, "Most families spend up to £15,000 on tuition and supplies?!" He knew the Dursley's wouldn't offer him two pence to learn magic, "Professor McGonagall, does Hogwarts offer any scholarships? Otherwise, I'm sorry but £15,000 a year for seven years is too much for us."
Professor McGonagall looked puzzled, "While scholarships are available for families who are unable to pay the costs out of pocket, I highly doubt that you would qualify, Mr. Potter. You are the last of the Potter family who are widely known to be amongst the top 20 wealthiest wizarding families in magical Britain."
Harry sat in a stunned silence for a moment then cleared his throat, "So… you're telling me… that I am actually extremely wealthy?"
Minerva smiled, although she was slightly shocked Harry hadn't known, "Yes, Mr. Potter, converted into muggle currency, you are likely a billionaire."
Harry sat mouth agape before breaking down into slightly hysterical laughter, thinking of all the extra chores he had done to earn a few extra pounds—all the while unknowingly being a freaking billionaire! This entire situation was becoming more and more surreal.
"So how do I access this alleged wealth?"
"Well, looking back to this brochure about wizarding currency, you present your key to the goblins and they will take to your vault."
"I don't have a key," Harry said.
"I have your key right here," Minerva said taking out the key Albus had given her and handing it to Harry.
Harry's eyes narrowed when he saw it, "Now why would Hogwarts, the school, have my bank key?" he asked.
Minerva was a little taken aback and thought for a moment, "Well the headmaster Albus Dumbledore was very good friends with your parents and we need to get access to the account to pay for your schooling," she reasoned aloud while wondering to herself just why Albus had it.
"But I have not even confirmed that I'll attend Hogwarts yet. Surely you don't mean you have already taken my money out?" Harry said.
"I apologize Mr. Potter, but I must admit I do not know how the key came to be in the school's possession," Minerva eventually admitted, "It is a matter you will have to take up with the headmaster."
"I will," Harry said.
Wanting to get back on track, Minerva returned to talking about the benefits of Hogwarts and even transformed into her cat animagus to demonstrate the possibilities of magic. She was admittedly selling the school a little harder than she would normally due to the inexplicable key incident and the fact that the Harry Potter would absolutely have to attend Hogwarts.
When her visit was concluding she asked, "So, Mr. Potter, will Hogwarts be seeing you this September?"
Admittedly awed by the display, Harry readily agreed.
"Would you like for me to wait until your aunt and uncle get home?" she asked. They, thankfully, hadn't come home during the meeting. Harry politely declined and assured her he could tell them everything.
"Oh and Mr. Potter, you will find that you name and image are quite famous in the wizarding world so don't be alarmed if you receive some attention," He nodded and she left leaving Harry with a lot to think about.
AN: And so the changes begin.
In this story my Dumbledore is a manipulative SoB. He has an extremely skewed idea of right and wrong but he believes he is really doing everything for the best
Cost of schooling: this is 1991 and I wanted to make the cost high but not by too much. I'm not sure how I did on that if anyone knows more about boarding school prices in that decade let me know. Like where would all the money go anyway? The school is mostly kept up by house elves, there are ridiculously few professors, magic seems is used to do a heck of a lot, and the school seems to even create lucrative products like the mandrakes.