Chapter Two: On The Wings Of Change

The number of books that had come with the owls shocked Harry. There were books on wizarding culture, law, etiquette, healing, ancient runes, arithmancy, and languages as well as the core subjects. But what intrigued him the most was not the books, but a backpack with another note attached to it with string.

Harry,

With all these books, you are going to need something to carry them around in without hurting your back; there are a lot of stairs in Hogwarts after all. When I was young my father used to bring me over to your grandfather's house while they did business. For my eleventh birthday your grandfather gave me a bottomless backpack, and I have decided to buy the same for you. Its features include a summoning charm. All you have to do is put your hand in the pouch and say what it is you are looking for and the item will be brought into hand's reach for you to take out. In addition the bag is charmed to weigh no more than fifteen pounds depending on what you put in it. It can be charmed to be weightless, however this feature is not advisable to those living in the non-magical world. If a muggle were to touch this backpack without knowing its features, they will find an ordinary backpack with nothing inside it. They will also feel compelled to return it to its rightful owner. If you bring the bag to Terrance's Magical Trunks and Totes, Terry can key the bag to only open to you, using a small amount of blood. You can also get many other features added to it if it is your wish.

Having seen your letter to the store I am aware that you are in need of a new trunk. Instead of buying one, I suggest you visit your vault manager at Gringotts. Your family has a tradition of buying an exquisite trunk for each of their offspring for their eleventh birthday as a right of passage. The trunks are charmed with many security measures, as well as other useful features. All of the salvageable pieces from Godric's Hollow would have been moved there after your parent's death, and their trunks may be within your vault.

When I slipped the Owl Order Service pamphlet into your books, I never thought that we at Flourish and Blott's would hear from you so soon. However, I am glad that we have been able to help you, and if you need anything else, feel free to Owl us. If you reach into the front pocket of your backpack you will find owl order pamphlets for all of the stores in the Alley.

Sincerely,

Allard Jackson

Shop Clerk at Flourish and Blotts

A grin split across Harry's face as he opened up the black leather-like backpack. The feel of it was decidedly not leather, and Harry could not figure out what it was. His Aunt Petunia had a leather trench coat, and she had made him carry it every time she had to take him grocery shopping when Mrs. Figg could not take him for a few hours. The backpack seemed less flexible and thicker than her coat had been. The backpack felt very durable, and Harry knew he would have it for a very long time. The backpack had two large pockets at the top that was covered by a thick flap. A large clasp held the flap in place when closed. Two average sized open pockets were visible along the sizes of the bag. A smaller pocket along the front of the backpack was closed with a silver concealed zipper. Opening the zipper, Harry reached in his hand while whispering the word pamphlet. Instantly he felt paper brush across his fingertips. Reaching farther into the pocket he pulled out a large stack of pamphlets.

Flipping through the pages Harry found pamphlets for bookstores, candy stores, clothing stores, apothecaries, stores selling specific magical items, the trunk store, the magical menagerie, as well as a healer's office. Harry pulled out the healer's pamphlet and opened it to the list of services that they offered. He wanted to see if he could get his eyesight fixed. His Aunt Petunia had gotten his glasses out of a bargain bin, and the prescription had never matched him. His eyesight had been getting worse over the years because of this, and he was now practically blind without his glasses. He remembered seeing a witch in the alley with glasses, so he knew that if it were possible, it would be either painful or expensive.

Harry found "Magical Eye Correction" under the list of services, and made a mental note to visit the healer's office next time he was in the Alley.


It had been almost a week since Harry had received the package of books. He had been reading constantly since that point, and he was already through all the books on culture. When his Aunt Petunia had been in the backyard with the other nosey female neighbours, Harry had raided the couch cushions for change. It was clear that nobody had thought to do this for quite some time, or rather; his Uncle carried a lot of money in his pockets, because Harry left the sitting room with almost 18 pounds to his name.

Harry knew that he would have many more questions about the Wizarding world. He also knew that he would forget some of his questions if he didn't write them down. He had been writing his questions down on parchment, but he liked the organization that bound notebooks gave him. It was for this reason that Harry was on his way to the store. His new backpack was over his shoulders, and all of his personal belongings were inside. He had seen his cousin eyeing up his belongings, and decided to keep them on him at all times. He was still marvelling at the brilliance of his backpack.

Harry had found the shrinking charm in one of the books that were sent to him. He had used it to shrink down his cauldron, after attempting it many times on Dudley's old clothes. After successfully shrinking down all of his cousins cast offs, so that they better fit him, he had done the spell on his cauldron with great success. Now it sat in his backpack along with all of his other belongings. Even with over a hundred books as well as a cauldron and other supplies in his bag, it weighed no more than fifteen pounds just like promised.

Harry passed Mrs. Figg's house and saw her peering through his sitting room window at him. He waved at his babysitter and her gaze followed him down the sidewalk. He often felt like she was constantly observing him. As far as he knew, she did not have a job, and every time he was outside he saw her. The old woman was kind, if a bit batty. The last time he was at her house, when his relatives had been visiting Vernon's sister Marge, he had counted at least fifteen cats. They had seemed like frightfully intelligent creatures.

Before he turned the corner of the street that the Tesco* was on, Harry looked back only to see that had exited her house, and was in her front yard watching him as she seemingly watered her flowers. He picked up his pace in order to get out of her sight. Her fascination with his comings and goings was starting to bother him.

As he reached the automatic doors of the store he clutched the strap to his backpack tighter. He did not want to be in the store long, as it was best that no one recognized him. He walked swiftly towards the stationary aisle and grabbed a pack of five notebooks. Harry felt that the price was more than reasonable, as each notebook contained over 400 pages. After checking the price of the books, he grabbed a pack of cheap pens. He was still struggling to write neatly with his quills, and his hands were constantly covered in ink. As he backed away from the shelf he bumped into someone, sending the items in their hands tumbling to the ground. As he stammered out his apologies, he looked up into the kind eyes of the stranger.

"It's fine son. It was an honest mistake; just make sure to look where you are going next time. You wouldn't want to back into a display!" The man laughed heartily, while helping Harry to his feet. The man had unruly brown hair, and kind blue eyes that sparkled with mirth. Harry could not help but feel that the man looked familiar.


Albus Dumbledore Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Headmaster of Hogwarts, was a very busy wizard. As all his titles implied, he had a lot of responsibility. Not the least of which was attending the ICW conference in Switzerland. The conference spanned across the second week of August, and once he entered he was unable to leave. He was slated to leave within the hour, and he still had much to do. A knock on the door brought him from his thoughts.

"Do come in!" The headmaster called jovially. "Ah! Minerva, right on time! We have much to discuss, and not much time to do it! Such is the way of the world of course. Have we received replies to all of the Hogwarts letters?"

"We have received all of the replies but one. Two of the pureblood families opted to send their children abroad and thus we have received rejection letters from them. All of the muggleborn children have accepted their spot at the school. Even still the class size is nowhere near what it was before the war. I have yet to receive a reply from Mr. Potter, which is deeply troubling. I thought you said that his relatives were treating him well, and that they would tell him of his heritage?"

"Minerva dear, no need to worry. I sent Hagrid just last week to collect Harry and bring him shopping for his supplies. Hagrid sent me an owl informing me of Harry's acceptance of his position. It must have slipped my mind, as I had intended to inform you of course." The Headmaster's blue eyes twinkled as he spoke.

"Did Hagrid not feel that it was important to inform myself of the acceptance?" Minerva's words were especially biting. " It is after all I who deal with the Hogwarts acceptances, which I have to send to the Board of Governors tomorrow, along with the funding allocations, for their approval. Did you deem this unimportant for me to know Albus? After all, I had informed you of my intention to escort Harry to the Muggleborn orientation tomorrow and how I planned to take him for his supplies beforehand. You know that I planned to take him for his checkup at the Healers. What are you trying to prevent Albus?"

The headmaster just stared stonily at her, the twinkle noticeably absent from his eyes. Minerva had become more and more prone to disagreeing with Albus as the years passed. He did not know how to appease the irate witch. He had sent Hagrid to collect Harry in an attempt to keep him from Slytherin. Albus knew of Hagrid's prejudices, and he may have threw in a few compulsions in order to make sure things went his way. He shuffled through some papers before glancing at the clock.

"I must go Minerva. I have to make a trip to the Ministry before leaving for Switzerland. I trust that you will be fine in my absence? Good day." Albus didn't give his transfiguration teacher a chance to reply as he threw the floo powder into the fireplace calling out his destination: "British Ministry of Magic – Atrium."

The irate witch sent one last glance around the room, which was filled with hundreds of silver trinkets, some were spinning, and others were letting out puffs of smoke. One large trinket at the forefront of the shelves changes from an iridescent yellow to an incandescent red. She swiftly exited the office, slamming the door in her wake.


"Vernon!" The man called out loudly as he crossed the street towards number four, waving his hand in greeting. " If I could have a quick word? I know that you are probably starving after a long day at work, and I promise I will not keep you long from your meal, lest it get cold."

"Ah Anthony, a pleasure. I can spare a moment or two of course, I am a bit early coming home, and Petunia wont have it on the table yet." Vernon said this was a forced smile that his neighbour didn't notice. He really wanted to go inside and make the freak fetch him a glass of brandy. Work had been particularly stressful today, as his manager had announced that layoffs would be starting next week. Vernon was not as far up in the ranks as he would like everyone to believe, after nearly thirteen years working at the company. Although he had a higher position than the stock boys, he still did a lot of the menial labour. If it wasn't for the money that they received for housing the freak, Vernon doubted they would get to live the lavish lifestyle that they currently do.

" I was just wondering where you bought that leather backpack for your nephew. My son's birthday is coming up and it would make a perfect gift for my son, with him starting university next month."

"My nephew? Where did you see my nephew?" He sputtered, his face turning pink with anger. His neighbour thought that it was a trick of the light. He would have been more attuned to his neighbour's anger if he had noticed Vernon's clenched fist.

"Why at Tesco of course! I was buying school supplies for my son when the young chap bumped into me by accident while leaving the shelf. Sent both of our supplies to the ground, he did. He was impeccably polite though; he helped me pick up all of my supplies all the while saying his apologies. It was no problem really, and I had told him as much, so he picked up his notebooks and had made his way to the cash, fishing out his change to pay." Vernon was starting to become an impressive shade of red, although his unobservant neighbour had yet to notice.

"Ah yes, I will have to ask Petunia where the fr - boy got it." He barely caught himself from calling his nephew a freak. He glanced at his watch.

"I really must go Anthony, Petunia doesn't like when I am late. Say hello to Mrs. Prentice for me, and thank her for the cookies that she had brought over last week. Your wife is an excellent baker."

Harry was putting his notebooks to good use. Each notebook held four designated subjects, and each subsection was intended for the different subjects within that book. Each notebook had three brown dividers in it, which split it into four sections. Within these subject dividers Harry had wrote the title of the books he had read at the top of the page with an increasingly long list of questions that stemmed from that book. He had further split the questions up by chapters for easier reference. Harry had transferred his questions from the parchment that he had earlier used, into the notebooks. He was very proud of his new work ethic.

The Dursley's had been terrible to him, to say the least. He was their slave, their house elf. It was a concept he came across in one of his culture books, and he was horrified. He was even more horrified to learn that Hogwarts had the largest group of house elves in the wizarding United Kingdom. He fully intended to talk to the little creatures about their lot in life. If he found them to be unhappy, he would use his considerable fame to his advantage and lobby for the little creatures. If he had learned one useful thing from Vernon Dursley, it was how to maneuver people into thinking your way, and how to use things to your advantage. It was because of this skill that Harry had managed to avoid a beating from his relatives in the past several years.

Harry heard the front door slam and his uncle's heavy steps making their way up the stairs. He quickly replaced his things into his backpack in order to avoid his uncle's ire. Looking around the room, the only thing that would incite his uncle was his owl's cage, which thankfully was devoid of Hedwig. His beautiful snowy had taken to sleeping outside his window in the hollow of the tree. He still kept his window open for her, and he fully intended to rid himself of the cage, and buy his owl a perch, which would be more towards her sensibilities.

Harry hid his backpack under his bed just as the man entered the room. Harry immediately noticed his clenched fists, and purple face. The vein in his forehead seemed close to bursting in his anger. Despite the apparent anger of his uncle, the man did not bellow as Harry expected. His voice was low, his words hard to hear, but the anger was immediate apparent.

"You thought you could steal from me boy? You thought that you could get away with it? My money? My hard earned money. YOU LITTLE FREAK!" His voice had gradually increased in volume, before he was bellowing in anger as Harry originally expected. A punch to the gut followed the exclamation. Another punch rained down upon the small boy, followed by a kick to the head. His vision was blurring rapidly. Harry regretted leaving his wand in his backpack. He kept reaching towards the bed, in the hopes of getting his wand, but as his Uncle's kicks became more violent, his body was wracked with pain, and he couldn't move more than an inch.

He heard a crack as his Uncle's foot connected with his jaw, breaking it into pieces. He knew then that his Uncle was wearing his steel toe boots. Tears pooled in his eyes but he would not let them run down his face. He would not be weak. He would not give his uncle that satisfaction. Harry knew he was going to die. He could barely move, and with his broken jaw he knew it would be almost impossible to scream. Even if he managed to, he knew that no one would come for him.

Harry wished that he could have seen Hogwarts before he died. He wished that he could have made a friend. It would have been his first friend. He wished he could have learned all the magic he could. Having lived with the Dursley's, who forced him to do worse than Dudley, or face a beating, he had been looking forward to going to a school where he could do his absolute best. He wanted to be the best in his class. But now he knew that none of his dreams would be seen, because he was going to die in a pool of his own blood on the floor of the smallest bedroom.

Harry heard rather than felt his Uncle's belt come down upon his side. He was numb, and he was fading fast. Blood was dripping down his head before his eyes. He knew that head wounds bled heavily, but there was a lot of blood leaving his body.

His uncle was luckily nowhere near a fit man. Harry often mentally compared him to a whale. The beating that felt like hours to Harry had actually lasted for less than five minutes before his Uncle left the room, panting with exhaustion. As the door shut behind him, Harry's world turned black.


The sun shined brightly into the bedroom. It illuminated the room revealing bookshelves. The colour of the walls was unknown, as the bookshelves spanned from the floor to the ceiling on all four walls. It was apparent that they were custom built, as they were the exact same colour as the cherry wood bed that was built into the bookshelves. Above the bed was the solitary window. It was a large window which spanned the width of the inhabitants king size bed, and reached close to the ceiling, where another small bookshelf was mounted. They were all one unit, and together they made an impressive image. On the bookshelf above the bed a picture showed a family of three smiling grandly for the photographer in front of the Eiffel Tower. Another photo showed the same three people in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Other similar photos littered the shelf. The young girl in the photo entered the room with a smile on her face.

She was a witch! A spell casting, potion brewing, witch! She had already bought all of her supplies earlier in the summer when Professor McGonagall had brought her family to Diagon Alley. Today was the Muggleborn Orientation and checkup. Professor McGonagall had given her family a portkey that would be activating in half an hour. The young girl presumed that the other muggleborns were given one too. After the orientation her family was intending to do some more shopping in the Alley.

She was surprised that her parents were so supportive of her. They admitted to being relieved that someone had an answer to what had been going on. Since she was a few years old she had been "calling" things to her when she wanted them, and making her dolls move without touching them. She had also been prone to making her book hover in front of her as she read it, and the pages would flip when she finished the page. The transfiguration professor had indicated that they were accidental incidents of summoning, animating, and levitating respectively. Her professor had been surprised at her control with magic, as most children's magic was wilder and completely uncontrolled. Her mom's voice pulled her out of her musings.

"Hermione darling, the portkey is going to activate soon. Do you have everything you need?" Her mother was beautiful. She had straight hair, the colour of her daughter's that reached the middle of her back. Her eyes were a deep ocean blue. A smile adorned her face, showing off her straight white teeth. She wore expensive clothing that showed off her curvaceous figure.

Her daughter wore similar expensive clothes. She wore a pair of dark wash jeans, and a flattering pink shirt. She was dressed to impress, and she fully intended to make some friends at the orientation. Hermione was hoping that there would be more students like her: intelligent and eager to learn.


Hermione was disappointed. Although a few of her fellow muggleborns seemed intelligent, none of them had prepared for Hogwarts as much as her. When she asked a curly haired boy named Justin if he had read An Appraisal of Magical Education in Europe, he gave her an incredulous look before moving closer to a black boy named Dean. She hoped that more of the half bloods and purebloods were studious like her. She did not want to be an outcast at Hogwarts for being intelligent, like she was at her primary school.

She yearned for a friend; A friend who she wouldn't have to dumb herself down for. It would be her first friend. Her hopes were slightly dashed by the orientation.

Other than the lack of intellectual equals, the orientation had been successful so far. Professor McGonagall had given the children a glass of pumpkin juice, on Hogwarts tab. They were also given the option of buying a case of butterbeer off of Tom to take home. The Professor explained that these delicious drinks were frequently served in the wizarding world, and she wanted them to be acquainted with these simple pleasures.

"… move at Hogwarts. It is imperative that you observe the portraits on your way to your common room. It is an easier way to memorize the route, as the staircases move around. Each common room will be guarded by a portrait, which a password is used to open the door. This password changes frequently. In the case of the Ravenclaw's, their common room is opened via a riddle, not a password."

Hermione raised her hand high into the air in order to grab her professor's attention. It didn't take long for Professor McGonagall to notice her raised hand and call upon her.

"But Professor, a riddle hardly seems like an adequate way to guard the common room. Just because the students of Slytherin, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are not sorted into the house specifically meant for those who are academically inclined, does not mean they are unintelligent. It simply means that being cunning, brave or hardworking, is a bigger personality trait. For example, both yourself and Headmaster Dumbledore graduated at the top of your respective classes, and you were both Gryffindors. Professor Snape holds a dual mastery in both Potions and Defense Against the Dark Arts, and is vaunted to be the creator of the Wolfsbane potion which has revolutionized the lives of those infected by lycanthropy. Hesper Starkey was a Hufflepuff who revolutionized potion making when she discovered the effect that the phases of the moon have on potion making. It is because of her research that polyjuice was found to be more stable when the fluxweed is picked at the full moon. My point is professor, that the students of Ravenclaw may not be adequately protected, especially because Hogwarts is supposed to be the safest place in Britain besides Gringotts."

Professor McGonagall was flustered and was unable to come up with an adequate reply for the young witch. She was astounded that a witch that had yet to enter Hogwarts yet, who had only known about the wizarding world for a mere month, knew so much. Internally she was already classifying the girl as a Ravenclaw.

"I will speak to the headmaster of this shortcoming, and see if additional security can be added to the Ravenclaw common room Miss. Granger." The older witch spoke softly in order to eliminate any possible sound of rebuke from her voice. She could see the looks that her classmates were exchanging, and did not want to help alienate her student any more. " If we were at Hogwarts I would award you ten points for your excellent deductive reasoning, as well as your preparedness."

The professor then quickly brought the students and their parents out of the Leaky Cauldron into the Alley. She intended to show them different aspects of the Alley that they would not have seen on their first visit. She then intended to bring them to the Healer's office for an examination. As she passed the Apothecary she spoke.

"Many of you may be wondering what the two circles drawn on the ground are for. These are the designated Portkey and Apparition points. When a witch or wizard tries to portkey or apparate to another part of the Alley they will be funneled here by the wards. It can be painful depending on how far away from the arrival points you were trying to arrive. For that reason most people just set their target destination here. Of course there are the few that will never learn." A few giggles were heard from the group. "For those of you who do not know, Portkey and Apparation are both forms of magical travel. If you would like to know more about them, a description of each can be found in the "Muggleborn Guide to Magical Travel" that was given to each of you upon your acceptance. Flooing is another way which magicals travel. Muggles can also arrive by this method as long as they floo with a magical person. Floo in the alley is mostly done through the Leaky Cauldron, as many of the stores in Diagon Alley have restricted floo access…"

As they continued to walk down the Alley Hermione heard a screeching noise and looked back at the Portkey Arrival Point. On the ground was a shape. Above the shape was a frantic owl. The shape didn't seem to be moving.


A soft pecking at his chest woke him. Concerned amber eyes peered at him. Hedwig sat on his chest attempting to rouse him. He hurt all over, and he could barely move. He began to panic. His breathing became tighter and he could barely think through his panic.

A screech brought his eyes back to his familiar. She held a chord in her beak. At the end of the chord was a miniature wooden book painted in a dark blue. It took him a minute to remember what it was. His portkey!

His clever owl screeched again before dropping the chord into his hand. She flew off his chest and out of his sight. He heard something being dragged across the floor. It seemed heavy as his precious owl seemed to be struggling to move it if her hoots were any indication. They sounded frustrated to Harry, although he could not figure out why. Finally he felt something in his hand.

Moving his hands minutely he could feel the hard texture of his backpack. He inwardly smiled despite his pain. His owl was so smart.

Hedwig was once again on his chest staring at him.

"Knowledge" He whispered, without moving his injured jaw. He lost consciousness as the hook behind his navel took him and his familiar away from his relatives, hopefully for the last time. He had never considered number four to be his home.


In a room in northern Scotland a trinket turned from red to black before shattering into thousands of minuscule pieces that could not be seen by the naked eye. The Headmaster would not see the occurrence as he had left his office the day before. The portraits on the walls were empty as they all visited their other frames in the Headmaster's weeklong absence.

The only being to see the trinket explode trilled mournfully for the boy that the broken trinket was supposed to monitor. He knew his human would not be happy with the boy for leaving his relatives. He had seen the trinket turn from the bright yellow that signified contentment to the bright red that signified fear and pain. He had watched the trinket all night and knew it was for the best that the boy had left. He however had no way of telling his human this.

Fawkes only wished that his human had not bound him to the Hogwarts grounds in his absence. His job was to keep an eye on the office and the wards. He wished he could heal the young boy who gravely needed his help.