A/N: Hello Everyone. Yep, this is also a revised version. Hope you like it.
The zoo incident was soon forgotten by the family. Time flew by, and soon summer holidays started. Harry's eleventh birthday was just around the corner. The Dursleys had been planning a holiday for Harry's birthday but Dudley caught flu, thus postponing it. Meanwhile, they went to London to buy their Smeltings uniforms and books.
Harry woke up quite early the next day. He had had a dream about flying on a broomstick. Laughing and making a note to himself not to tell his parents about it, he got up to get ready for the day. He went downstairs to find his family sitting around the table in the kitchen. Vernon was reading the newspaper; Petunia was busy frying eggs, whereas Dudley was playing with Hobbit, his pet eagle, whom he named after watching Lord of the Rings.
Just when they were about to start with the breakfast, they heard the click of the mail slot and flop of letters on the doormat.
"Get the mail, Dudley," said Vernon from behind his paper.
"Make Harry get it."
"Get the mail, Harry."
"Make Dudley get it. It's my birthday week."
"And what law forbids you to work in your birthday week?" asked Dudley, rolling his tongue at Harry, but still getting up to fetch the mail.
Four things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge, who was vacationing on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a bill and - a letter for some Potter and another similar letter for Dudley.
Dudley went back to the kitchen. He handed Uncle Vernon the bill and the postcard, sat down with yellow envelopes in his hand. Dudley studied both the envelopes. The addresses written on them were odd.
Mr. D. Dursley
The Right Bedroom Upstairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
Mr. H. Potter
The Left Bedroom Upstairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
The envelopes were thick and heavy, made of yellowish parchment, and the address was written in emerald-green ink. There was no stamp. Turning it over, he saw a purple wax seal bearing a coat of arms; a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a large letter H.
"Hey, Duddykins! Has Tracy written a love letter or shall we say two love letters?" asked Harry seeing the odd envelopes in his hands
"Shut up." said Dudley, "This one is for me, I don't know for whom the other one is meant. Infact, the address clearly means you, but the name on it is some Potter--"
Even before Dudley could finish his sentence, the letters were snatched from his hands by Vernon.
"P-P-Petunia!" he gasped.
Dudley started to ask but dared not, seeing the look on his father's face. Petunia took the letter curiously and read the first line. For a moment it looked as though she might faint. She clutched her throat and made a choking noise.
"Vernon! Oh my goodness -- Vernon!"
They stared at each other, seeming to have forgotten that Harry and Dudley were still in the room.
"What happened?" said Harry and Dudley loudly, exchanging dark looks.
"Get out, both of you," croaked Vernon, stuffing the letter back inside its envelope.
"Fine! Give me my letter and I will go out?" snapped Dudley.
"OUT!" roared Vernon and before, he could say anything, Harry grabbed Dudley's arm and dragged him out of the kitchen. Petunia slammed the kitchen door behind them.
"What's going on? Why they keep behaving so oddly at times? They were only two letters, after all. And that is perfectly normal. But no, they think it is also weird. What do they expect? A letter bomb by some terrorist?" fumed Dudley, pacing the living room.
"Ssshhh... I am trying to listen ... By the way, I don't know why, but Potter seems a familiar name to me," whispered Harry, his ear glued to the keyhole. Dudley also came to the door, lied down flat to his stomach to listen at the crack between door and floor.
"Vernon," Petunia was saying in a quivering voice, "look at the address - how could they possibly know where they sleep? You don't think they're watching the house?"
"Watching -- spying -- might be following us," muttered Vernon wildly.
"And Vernon, look," Petunia gasped, looking at the second letter, "this one is for our Dudley. Oh my god, Oh my god! It can't happen. It can't. What should we do, Vernon? Should we write back? Tell them we don't want -"
Harry could see Vernon's shiny black shoes pacing up and down the kitchen.
"No," he said finally. "No, we'll ignore it. If they don't get an answer... Yes, that's best... we won't do anything..."
"But -"
"I'm not having this nonsense in the house, Petunia! I don't understand how Dudley ... No, we won't reply. Yes that's it."
Harry and Dudley looked at each other, confused but neither had any answer nor was they given any explanation by their parents. They spent whole day in trying to figure out what could possibly be written in those letters that had shocked their parents so much.
"Blackmail! Yes ... that's it," said Harry finally after thinking for a long time, "it can't be anything else. I have seen in the movies, people get scared when they get one."
"Yea yea. We have got so much of wealth, I never knew of, that we get blackmails?" snapped Dudley, "Why in Merlin's name would one blackmail us, Harry? The letter was addressed to us, though one with a wrong name. No, there is something else. I have this feeling that they panicked at the mention of Potter."
"What do you reckon then? They seemed shocked by the contents of the letter"
"Can't think of anything. It can't be from our school since we are such a sincere students."
"Yes, yes ... BIG D ... a sincere student? From when?" cut in Harry, choking on suppressed laughter.
"Oh shut it, Harry. I guess we should ask Dad when he comes back home."
But they could not get the answer from any of their parents in the evening. Vernon refused to talk about the matter and Petunia shot angry looks at them when they tried asking her.
Next day, everything was quite in the kitchen. Harry exchanged looks with Dudley who simply shrugged.
When the mail arrived, Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be cheerful leapt from his seat and ran down the hall to get it. It seemed there were another same mails as Vernon exchanged dark looks with Petunia when he again sat down on his seat.
Moments later, Hobbit came flying from the hall into the kitchen with three parchment envelopes. She landed on the table, dropped the letters and moved towards Dudley, while Vernon quickly snatched the letters. He tore them without even looking at them and threw them in the dustbin.
Things continued the same way next few days but they got almost out of control on Saturday. So many mails had been forced into their house that Petunia had to shred them in blender.
"Who the hell is so desperate to talk to us?" Dudley asked Harry in amazement, "Why the idiots are not using telephone. All our classmates have that number."
On Sunday morning, Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and rather ill, but happy.
"No post on Sundays," he reminded them cheerfully as he spread marmalade on his newspapers, "no damn letters today-"
Something came whizzing down the kitchen chimney as he spoke and caught him sharply on the back of the head. Next moment, thirty or forty letters came pelting out of the fireplace like bullets. Petunia and Vernon ducked, but Harry and Dudley leapt into the air trying to catch one.
"Out! OUT!"
Vernon seized Harry and Dudley from their collars and threw them into the hall and slammed the door shut. They could hear the letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor. Soon, they got the orders to get ready as they were leaving. Vernon did not clarify where and no one dared ask him; he looked so dangerous with half his moustache. Ten minutes later they had wrenched their way through the boarded-up doors and were in the car, speeding toward the highway.
They drove. And they drove. Even Petunia didn't dare ask where they were going. Every now and then Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite direction for a while. "Shake'em off... shake 'em off," he would mutter whenever he did this. They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. They spent the night in an old inn, eating stale food. But the problem followed them there as well, as the owner of the hotel came to them carrying similar letters.
The result of this was another drive. Vernon was going crazy or so the kids thought. He wasn't even listening to Petunia's rationale. This time Vernon drove them into the middle of a forest, got out, looked around, shook his head, got back in the car, and off they went again. The same thing happened in the middle of a ploughed field, halfway across a suspension bridge, and at the top of a multilevel parking garage.
"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Petunia dully late that afternoon. Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car, and disappeared.
It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car. Dudley snivelled.
"It's Monday," he told his mother. Tomorrow is Harry's birthday. What the hell ... I mean what are we doing here in the car locked up, when we should be planning about how to celebrate Harry's birthday."
Vernon was back with a package and he was smiling and what a relief that was. However, it turned out to be short-lived one when he announced -
"Found the perfect place! Come on! Everyone out!"
It was very cold outside the car. Uncle Vernon was pointing at what looked like a large rock way out at sea. Perched on top of the rock was the most miserable little shack you could imagine.
"Storm forecast for tonight!" said Uncle Vernon gleefully, clapping his hands together. "And I have arranged for a boat. I have already got us some rations, so all aboard."
It was freezing in the boat. Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their faces. After what seemed like hours they reached the rock, where Vernon, slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.
He was in a very good mood. Obviously he thought nobody stood a chance of reaching them here in a storm to deliver mail. Making use of some moth eaten mattresses, they made a bed for Harry and Dudley, who did not feel sleepy at all. Petunia and Vernon slept in what can be called as living room.
"Are you thinking the same thing as I am?" whispered Harry, "I mean what they both are up to? It sounds fishy to me, as if they are guarding some treasure, only they are not carrying any."
"I heard them at the hotel. Dad was talking something about saving his family and fighting it out. Could not make out anything of it, though," answered Dudley.
They lay and watched Harry's birthday tick nearer, wondering what they would have been doing at their home and where the writer of letters could be.
"One minute to go and you'd be eleven," said Dudley counting cheerfully, thirty seconds ... twenty ... ten ... nine - three ... two ... one ..."
BOOM.
The whole shack shivered and Harry sat bolt upright, staring at Dudley. Someone was outside, knocking to come in.
"Should we be going in the living room? Mom and Dad might be in trouble," suggested Harry.
And both of them sneaked out of the room into the living room, finding their parents shaking nervously and staring at the door.
BOOM.
"Who's there?" Vernon shouted. "I warn you -- I'm armed!" Dudley saw his father holding a rifle in his arms. Harry understood what was in the long packet.
There was a pause. Then --
SMASH!
The door was hit with such force that it swung clean off its hinges and with a deafening crash landed flat on the floor.
A giant of a man was standing in the doorway. His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black beetles under all the hair.
The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just brushed the ceiling. He bent down, picked up the door, and fitted it easily back into its frame. The noise of the storm outside dropped a little. He turned to look at them all.
"Couldn't make us a cup of tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey ..."
He strode over to the fireplace. Everyone was rooted to their place.
"An' here's Harry!" said the giant.
Harry looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle eyes were crinkled in a smile.
"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant. "Yeh look a lot like yet dad, but yeh've got yer mom's eyes."
"I demand that you leave at once, sir!" Vernon said. "You are breaking and entering!"
"Ah, shut up, Dursley," said the giant; he reached over to where Vernon was standing, jerked the gun out of his hands, bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a corner of the room.
"Anyway -- Harry," said the giant, turning towards Harry, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here -- I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."
From an inside pocket of his black overcoat he pulled a slightly squashed box. Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on it in green icing.
Harry looked up at the giant. He didn't know what to say. He was feeling thankful and scared of the giant at the same time.
Dudley came forward and demanded, "Who are you?"
The giant chuckled.
"True, I haven't introduced meself. Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts."
He held out an enormous hand and shook Harry's and then Dudley's whole arm.
"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."
The giant sat down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle, a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs, and a bottle of some amber liquid that he took a swig from before starting to make tea. Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage. Nobody said a thing while the giant was working, but as he slid the first six fat, juicy, slightly burnt sausages from the poker, Dudley fidgeted a little.
Vernon said sharply, "Don't eat anything he gives you, Dudley and Harry."
The giant chuckled darkly.
"I am not offering nothing to yeh. Yeh don' need fattenin' anymore, Dursley, don' worry."
Finally, Harry got his voice and asked, "I'm sorry, but I still don't really know who you are."
The giant took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Call me Hagrid," he said, "everyone does. An' like I told yeh, I'm Keeper of Keys at Hogwarts -- yeh'll know all about Hogwarts, o' course."
"Er -- no," said Harry.
Hagrid looked shocked.
"Sorry," Harry said quickly.
"Sorry?" barked Hagrid, turning to stare at the Vernon and Petunia, who shrank back into the shadows. "It's them as should be sorry! I knew yeh weren't gettin' yer letters but I never thought yeh wouldn't even know abou' Hogwarts, fer cryin' out loud! Did yeh never wonder where yeh parents learned it all?"
"All what?" asked Harry.
"ALL WHAT?" Hagrid thundered. "Now wait jus' one second!"
He had leapt to his feet. In his anger he seemed to fill the whole hut. Vernon and Petunia were cowering against the wall.
"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the them, "that this boy -- this boy! -- knows nothin' abou' -- about ANYTHING?"
Harry exchanged looks with Dudley who looked as confused.
"Excuse me," said Dudley, rather nervously, "We know a lot. And we are well cared for. We go to school and everything, if that is what you are here to check," Hagrid turned towards them and Harry nodded vigorously.
But Hagrid simply waved his hand and said, "About our world, I mean. Your world. Harry's world. My world. Harry's parents' world."
"What world?" said Harry, feeling lost every minute.
Hagrid looked as if he was about to explode.
"DURSLEY!" he boomed.
Vernon, who had gone very pale, whispered something that sounded like "Mimblewimble." Hagrid stared wildly at Harry.
"But yeh must know about ye mom and dad," he said. "I mean, they're famous. You're famous."
"What?" cried Dudley and Harry, yet together again. "You aren't famous, are you?" whispered Dudley, looking disbelievingly at his parents. Nothing seemed to be making any sense, anymore. Harry hoped all of it to be another funny dream of his, which he will share with Dudley tomorrow morning, or maybe he might also be having the same dream.
"Yeh don' know ... yeh don' know ..." Hagrid ran his fingers through his hair, fixing Harry with a bewildered stare.
"Yeh both don' know what yeh are?" he said finally.
Vernon suddenly found his voice.
"Stop!" he commanded. "Stop right there, sir! I forbid you to tell my boys anything!"
"You never told him? Never told Harry what was in the letter Dumbledore left fer him? I was there! I saw Dumbledore leave it, Dursley! An' you've kept it from him all these years?"
"Kept what from me?" said Harry eagerly.
"What letter?" asked Dursley curiously. Maybe it was the same letter his parents had been hiding til now. Mystery will be solved finally.
"STOP! I FORBID YOU!" yelled Vernon in panic.
Petunia gave a gasp of horror.
"Ah, go boil yet heads, both of yeh," said Hagrid. "Harry -- yeh a wizard."
There was silence inside the hut. Only the sea and the whistling wind could be heard.
"-- a what?" gasped Dudley, "what is he, you said?"
"A wizard, o' course," said Hagrid, sitting back down on the sofa, which groaned and sank even lower, "an' a thumpin' good 'un, I'd say, once yeh've been trained up a bit. With a mum an' dad like yours, what else would yeh be?"
Mom and Dad - a wizard. Dudley stared incredulously at his parents, who looked defeated and slumped on the floor. He did not even notice what Hagrid had said meanwhile. He only noticed when Hagrid said loudly, "I reckon it's abou' time yeh both read yer letters."
Harry stretched out his trembling hand to take the yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Harry.
Mr. H. Potter,
The Floor,
Hut-on-the-Rock,
The Sea.
"Yeh too, Dudley," added Hagrid when Dudley did not move.
"But I don't think, it's for me, I am no Potter," replied Harry, reading the envelope.
But, Dudley had pulled out his letter and started reading, loudly:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Dursley,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
"What do they mean by - await your owl?" asked Dudley.
"Gallopin' Gargoyles, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his forehead with enough force to knock over a cart horse, and from yet another pocket inside his overcoat he pulled an owl -- a real, live, rather ruffled-looking owl -- a long quill, and a roll of parchment. With his tongue between his teeth he scribbled a note that Harry could read upside down:
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
Given Harry and Dudley their letters.
Taking them to buy their things tomorrow.Weather's horrible.
Hope you're well.
Hagrid
Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went to the door, and threw the owl out into the storm. Then he came back and sat down as though this was as normal as talking on the telephone.
Dudley realized his mouth was open and closed it quickly. He had so many questions going on in his mind, so many that he did not know which one to ask first.
"Excuse me, sir. But I think you have made a mistake. I am not the Harry, you were supposed t--" Harry finally found his voice.
"I not 'no you Harry? This scar is yeh identity -- a famous mark," answered Hagrid, sadly.
"His identity? Famous? What is he famous for?" asked Dudley interested.
"Never wondered how you got that mark on yer forehead?"
"-er ... yes in a car accident, when I was one year old," answered Harry weakly.
"When he was suffering from flu and had gone for a doctor check up," finished Dudley.
"CAR CRASH!" roared Hagrid, jumping up so angrily that the Dudley and Harry took few steps back. "It's an outrage! A scandal! Harry not knowin' his own story when every kid in our world knows his name!"
"But why? What happened?" Harry asked urgently.
Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.
"You-Know-Who tried killin' yeh when yeh 'er a baby, 'ne year old."
"Who?" asked Dudley.
"Well -- I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."
"Why not?" demanded Harry.
"Gulpin' gargoyles, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..."
Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.
"Could you write it down?" Dudley suggested.
"Nah -- can't spell it. All right -- Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered. "Don't make me say it again. Anyway, this -- this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Dark days, Harry. Didn't know who ter trust; didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches... terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him -- an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.
"Now, Lily and James were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em... maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an' -- an'--"
Hagrid tried to control his sobs.
"I am sorry, you two. Knew 'em ... an' nicer people yeh couldn't find -- anyway...
"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then ... an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing -- he tried to kill you, too. But he couldn't do it. T'is is no ordinary cut. That's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh -- but that didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age -- the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts -- an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."
Something very painful was going on in Harry's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before -- and he remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.
"So, Voldemort killed Lily and James Potter, but I was saved," whispered Harry.
"But what was Harry doing with them?" asked Dudley, all the more confused now. Nothing is making sense. Damn it.
"Yes," Harry whispered, "who are James and Lily an-"
"What are ye two talkin'?" asked Hagrid, looking outrageous, "yeh not know? Harry, they 'ere yeh mum an' dad, you 're Harry Potter." He threw a disgusting look at the Dursleys.
Silence fell. It's all a dream. Neither of the boys knew that both were thinking the same thing at that time.
"It is not true, sir. I am their son," said Harry, pointing towards Petunia and Vernon, who looked defeated and slumped, not wishing to say something, tears streaming down their face, "I am Harry Dursley, and Dudley is my brother. You have found the wrong guy."
"I also don't believe in this thing," added Dudley, shaking his head.
"Not a wizard, eh Harry? Never made things happen when you was scared or angry?"
Harry looked back at Hagrid and saw that Hagrid was positively beaming at him.
"See?" said Hagrid. "Harry Potter, not a wizard -- yeh wait, yeh'l be right famous at Hogwarts."
Suddenly Vernon found his voice.
"They are not going?" he said. "They both are going to Smeltings. I've read those letters and they needs all sorts of rubbish -- spell books and wands and --"
"If Harry wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid. "Stop Lily an' James Potter's son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. He's off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won't know himself. He'll be under the greatest headmaster Hogwarts ever had Albus Dumbl--"
"Is it true, Dad?" cut in Dudley, "Whatever Hagrid has said, is it true?"
Vernon could not answer this. World seemed to stop for Harry. He was broken. He slumped to the floor.
"You knew all this, all about this and you kept us in dark ... why Dad ... WHY?" screamed Dudley.
"Knew!" shrieked Petunia suddenly. "Knew! Of course we knew! How could he not be, my dratted sister being what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that-that school-and came home every vacation with her pockets full of frog spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what she was -- a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"
She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she had been wanting to say all this for years.
"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had Harry, and of course I knew he'd be just the same, just as strange, just as -- as -- abnormal --. We were happy without any of the Potters in our family, happy that you at least were far from all this and she -- she went and got herself blown up and we got landed wi--"
"ENOUGH," yelled Harry, through his tears, "and I thought, you ... you were my parents. I loved you. But ... but I was a burden ... just a burden for you ... an unwanted member in the family ... I ... I ..." Unable to say anything else, Harry ran to his room. Hagrid went after Harry.
"I hate you ... Why did you keep all of it from us? He ... we would not have loved you less. He would have been the same. I hate you for this." With this Dudley stormed out of the room after his cousin.
Petunia and Vernon had no one to wipe their tears, they cried in each other's embrace. The secret, they have protected with their life, had finally broken their family, their happy family.
Harry got up in the morning. He saw Dudley sleeping nearby. He looked at him, smiling. All he wanted was that yesterday's night is proved a nightmare. But then he saw Hagrid and knew, it's all true. Hagrid smiled at him.
"I 'm sorry, Harry. For whatev' happ'ed, 'esterday. I a--"
"I don't want to talk about it, Hagrid, please."
"Good morning, Harry." Dudley had woken up.
"Fine, then. Best be off, Harry, Dudley, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."
"Can I leave a note to Mom and Dad?" asked Dudley shyly.
"Yer wish."
"Shall we go then?" asked Harry weakly.
So, they went off to buy the books and everything Harry and Dudley needed for his new school.