Chapter 1

Harry was not sure what he felt as he stared in stupefaction at the lunatic who stood at the front of his door wearing purple robes and looking like a discount version of Gandalf from the Lord of the Rings series. The whiteness of hair, the wrinkles and the half tinted moon glasses were clear signs that the man was far along in his seventies, yet the physique and atmosphere did not match. In fact, if Harry had to put it in words, he would have described the old man as electrifying. There was no sign of lethargy in the motions of the person and the eyes belied no fatigue. The serene expression on the individual's face indicated either an incomprehension at how odd he stood out or a complete lack of concern at how others would perceive him.

"Might I come in, Mr. Potter?" The lunatic spoke and Harry was pulled from his shock back into the situation at hand. The Dursleys were out at the moment, but would be back anytime from their celebration of Dudley's birthday.

Harry was about to politely refuse, and the words were already on the tip of his tongue, but he felt a sort of complacency as he continued to look at the smiling old man.

"Er. No! Because you look a few cards short of a full deck." Harry blurted out at length, somewhat surprised at his own words. He had meant to say a polite no and close the door, but for some bizarre reason he was very much tempted to allow the old man in. He had hesitated, but eventually his rationality won out and he had stated his 'no', albeit in a blunt and direct way. What was surprising was the guilt that had come along after, even though Harry knew he had done nothing wrong which was why he had tacked on his explanation for his refusal, something which he had no intention whatsoever to say aloud. At least in present company.

Of all things to happen next, laughter was certainly not one Harry expected. But indeed, the old man was chuckling. "Surprisingly honest Mr. Potter! I only mean to take a few moments of your time and I mean you absolutely no harm. The information I have concerns your deceased parents." Toward the end, the old man's tone had turned toward a more sombre note.

Harry felt as if he was at crossroads. On one hand, everything he knew of anything was telling him to get away from the crazy delusional senile old man in front of him as fast as he could, but his instincts were in direct conflict.

"Alright." Harry assented after a few moments of internal debate. "I will hear you out here first."

The old man had been carefully examining Harry as he pondered on allowing the man in or not, and Harry squirmed a little and shifted on his feet. The gaze was quite intense and for some odd reason, he felt as if the aged elder was scrutinizing him.

"Ah, forgive me. The mind tends to wander at my age." The momentary feeling of discomfort slid away almost as suddenly as it appeared. "I was the headmaster of the institution your parents attended and a personal friend to both your parents. I am here to explain to you the events that led up to their deaths as well as extending an offer to attend the same establishment as your parents."

"Perhaps we should take it into the living room." Harry relented at last, there was no real harm in allowing such an old man to come in. "Please come in," Harry beckoned as the old man made no movement to step through the threshold.

At his words, the old man seemed to relax slightly and carefully stepped across the doorstep. Wondering if he should assist the old man, Harry paused, but it was not needed. Whatever reason for the careful step melted away as the old man strode in completely at ease. For half a second, Harry was almost sure that the last few minutes of his life were a by-product of an incredibly real hallucination. Then he caught sight of the purple clothes and shook his head slightly.

"Would you like some tea or something else to drink?" Harry asked politely as they sat facing each other over the wooden desk that was situated between two cushioned chairs.

"No need," the wizened elder smiled back. "Thank you for the offer, but I believe it is time that we discussed about your heritage, Mr. Potter."

"Please, Harry is fine." Harry blushed a little at being so formally referred to.

"Harry it is then." The smile seemed to stretch a little further. "My name is Albus Dumbledore. I was a close friend of your parents. They were James Potter and Lily Potter nee Evans."

Harry nodded, so far this was no news to him. Petunia had told him of his parent's accidental death in some sort of explosion.

Dumbledore paused slightly before continuing. "I am not sure if you are aware of the nature of their deaths."

Harry had a premonition that things were about to take a nose-dive. "I was informed that they died in an explosion of the accidental nature." His words were hesitant and he just knew something was not adding up.

Albus closed his eyes briefly before clarifying. "I'm afraid that their deaths were neither caused by an explosion nor was it accidental." He let the words sink in and gazed neutrally back at Harry.

"Are you... are you saying that they died because... they were murdered?" Harry stuttered out.

"Yes." Albus replied curtly and Harry felt his initial doubts wash away. There did not seem to be any real reason for Dumbledore to lie, though Harry desperately wished none it were true.

"How can I know if you are telling the truth?"

"Before I can explain, I must first inform you of something that you may or may not have known." Dumbledore hesitated slightly before continuing. "Your parents were wizards and they were able to perform magic." Albus continued on "Magic is real, and if you require proof, I will need your permission to cast a spell in order to demonstrate," sensing that this was rather difficult for Harry to believe. Rightly so, because Harry was beginning to feel his old doubts resurge in his chest at the ludicrous words. He should have listened to his brain earlier and not let the obviously crazy - at this point he caught up to what Albus had said.

"What?" Harry was completely befuddled. Cast a spell? What did that mean? Dumbledore was visibly uncomfortable and the loss of composure was affecting Harry equally.

It was at this precise moment that the door unlocked itself and the Dursleys stumbled in.

Petunia walked through the drapes that hung over the entry way to the living room and stopped dead at the sight before her. Her expression paled and she gasped aloud.

"You!" She shrieked out. "What are you doing in here! Get out! GET OUT!"

Her exclamation caught both parties by surprise and suddenly tremors shook the entire room. Was it an earthquake? Harry suddenly found it hard to breathe as an overwhelming force pressed down on the entire room. Vernon had run over to the living room now, and Dudley cowered beside him. Dumbledore had stood up and ... was that sparks coming from around his body? There was a pale blue nimbus that shone around him, bleeding sparks like a live wire. He had a stick out in his right hand and some sort of barrier was covering his figure. His face was visibly paler than before.

"It seems," he gasped out, "I have overstayed my welcome. Harry, might I ask that we continue this another time?" He was looking quite unwell at this point and Harry could not find it in him to refuse. He nodded curtly and Albus's visage relaxed slightly.

Then he disappeared.

Harry hated not understanding what was going on. At first, he was sure the old man, Dumbledore as he called himself, was a senile lunatic. After all, no sane person would dress up in purple robes and wander around in broad daylight, much less strike up conversation with other people. But, once the initial impression faded somewhat, Harry had much liked talking with Dumbledore, who was refreshingly calm and lucid. Once the subject of his parents were brought up, he had felt a surge of excitement intermingled with apprehension and nervousness. To be fair, never before had anyone talked with him at length about his deceased parents. Aunt Petunia had at most simply explained to him that they were permanently gone, and that the cause was purely accidental. The matter had been dropped then, and Harry was never inclined to mention them in his Aunt's presence again. After all, Petunia had adopted a particularly bitter tone upon broaching the subject of his parents.

Then that bit about wizards and magic came up. The same words mentioned in the letter that Harry had rejected. Coupled with his Aunt's reaction this afternoon, Harry was now completely lost. He knew that there was a missing piece of the puzzle and that if he knew what it was, everything would fall into place and make sense, but alas he could not find that missing piece. One thing was sure however, his Aunt knew who the old codger was and going by her tone, she knew exactly what was going on. Harry shuddered slightly as he realized that in order for him to seek the answers he desired, no needed, he would have to brave her temper and dislike. Harry had spent the last few years trying to find all sorts of ways to keep any interaction with his Aunt to a bare minimum, and it had worked quite well. Now, however, he was going to have to destroy all the work he had done over the last few years, all on the insane words of an insane man. Deciding that he would lose his courage if he thought about this anymore, he reached out and opened his door. The answers he sought were too important. No risk, no gain. He descended the stairs in search of his Aunt.

She was sitting outside in the backyard deck. The garden seemed to be an image of serene peacefulness, completely at contrast with the chaotic inner sensations that Harry felt. He took strength from the complete apathy of nature and used a mental trick to calm himself down. He told himself that the world did not care about his insignificant troubles and that the sun would rise from the east and set in the west no matter what happened. By facing himself with the immensity of the cosmos and the sheer vastness of the world outside and around him, Harry made himself feel small and humbled. It always managed to calm himself down. He approached her with soft footsteps.

Vernon was nowhere to be found and Harry felt a bead of sweat trickle down his back. He was scared of his Aunt, and felt a deep shame in that fear, but he knew it was normal and that he could and would overcome it. It helped that in the darkening twilight, the pale lines on his Aunt's face were more pronounced than ever and seemed to add a few years onto her visage. For the first time since he could remember, she looked vulnerable, mortal. This was not the bogey-woman who haunted his memories, this was simply another human being who made mistakes. Taking a deep breath, silently so as not to give away his inner emotional turmoil, he called out softly, "Aunt Petunia, may I speak with you about earlier today?"

Harry could barely remember the last time when he had been the one to initiate a conversation with his Aunt.

She did not turn to look at him, but replied with a curt, "Sit." There was a faint, but noticeable tremor in her voice and Harry felt at the same time bolstered and fearful. He quietly sank into the other folding chair beside his Aunt.

"I suppose that I have a few things to tell you." His Aunt's voice was bitter, but also defeated. "I had hoped to never tell you any of this, and in fact I had sworn to do so. But now that that ... man has come to our house, I can no longer pretend that everything is normal." She drew a shuddering breath and continued. Harry did not dare to interrupt. "My sister, your mother, was always different." Her voice grew bitter and jealous, but Harry was struck not by that, but by how weary it sounded. "She was always the prettier one and I could always tell that our parents favored her. She was smart, kind and determined and excelled whereas I was always just average. Then, on her sixteenth birthday, a letter came addressed to her. We found out just how different she was. She was a witch."

Harry could not suppress the a sudden inhalation as his surprise momentarily overcame his thought processes.

"Yes," his Aunt continued, ignoring his surprise and continuing to not gaze in his direction. She was looking into the distance, no doubt reminiscing about the past long gone. "At first we thought it was some sort of hoax, but then a witch came into our home and showed us magic for the first time. Soon after, your mother quit college and went to study magic at that school of hers. She met your father there and had you. I was initially very happy that she was gone. With her disappearing year and year to the magic school, I thought I would finally have my parents attention to myself. But they continued to fawn over Lily and if nothing else, the fact that she could perform magic of her own seemed to make them love and treasure her even more. I quickly realized I had no real place in that family and despite Lily's insistent requests to visit, I quickly cut all ties with my family." Petunia stopped.

Harry could imagine quite vividly and for the first time he felt some stirrings of pity well deep inside of him. Quickly, he suppressed it and waited patiently for his Aunt to continue. He was still skeptical, but there was a time for questions and this was not it.

The silence stretched for a second more and the sunset glow had turned a deep brick red akin to that of the redness of an ember. Petunia abruptly resumed her story. "I had married Vernon and explained some of the story to him. I kept quiet about the magic, simply calling it a special ability and that was that. My life was steady and though I cannot say I was ever fully happy, I was content. My new family gave me all the things I never had before and though we were initially poor, things were brightening. We even had a child of our own. Then came the news. I had known that Lily was married to someone, but I never knew the details. I woke one morning and there you were on the doorstep. Only a letter beside you explained what had happened. My fool of a sister and her husband had been killed in the line of duty. Or some sort of rubbish like that. I always knew she should never have gone to that school." Petunia's voice was a little hoarse.

Harry was not sure what he felt. He opted to listen some more.

"I never intended to tell you any of this. I had planned to simply let this chapter close and I had hoped that they would not come for you like they did for my sister. I ... you..." She trailed off and Harry wondered what she had wanted to say.

Harry asked a question that had been burning in his mind ever since Dumbledore had left. "Did you know the man who was here earlier today?"

"The man that was here was the same man who wrote the letter beside you. The last time I saw Lily was during her marriage ceremony and Dumbledore," his Aunt spat the name out angrily, "was present at the wedding. He is the one I hold responsible for Lily's death."

Harry quietly processed everything. The night sky had opened up and the stars shone brilliantly. They were light years away in unknown territory; his thoughts wandered a similarly unknown landscape. Somewhere above him, a star could have died and he would never have known. For all he could see were the light of their past. Shaking his head, he focussed back to the task at hand, his past was no place to get lost in. Aunt Petunia was silent and the lack of light hid her face from Harry's solemn gaze.

Harry had no idea what his Aunt was feeling. "Thank you Aunt Petunia." Harry murmured at last, meaning the words for the first time in a long time.

His Aunt did not reply, and Harry quietly excused himself and left for his room.

Petunia sat in the deck of her backyard and it was a long time before she moved. "I'm so sorry, Lily." Petunia whispered into the cooling night air.

The next morning, after Dudley had left for school and Vernon for work, Aunt Petunia told Harry that she had some shopping to do and would not be home until later that evening. There were some leftovers in the fridge, and then she was gone. Harry quietly paced around in his room, wondering if Dumbledore was going to come again.

A soft knock on the door had him bolting for the entrance door. He peered through the eyehole and grinned. The old man was indeed here. He opened the door and could not suppress a small smile.

"Hello Mr. Dumbledore." Harry greeted politely, withholding his desire to bombard the old man with questions.

"Hello Mr. Potter, it is good to see you again. Please call me Albus, Mr. Dumbledore makes me feel quite old! May I?" Dumbledore's tone of voice was so matter of fact that Harry almost laughed aloud at the sheer irony of his statement.

"Oh yes. Please come in, er, Albus," Harry sidestepped and closed the door behind him as Dumbledore strode past in movements that were entirely too quick and impossible for someone of his advanced age to make.

"I guess you have many questions that you wish to ask me?" Dumbledore gazed seriously back at Harry after they were seated once again in the living room.

"Yes. Quite a number of them. Can we start with my parents? Harry asked shyly, "And please, Harry is fine." Excitement and nervousness warred inside him, leaving him feeling a little out of control. He had already been anticipating this moment since last night, after Petunia's explanation, and truth be told he had barely slept a wink. Despite that, he felt completely energized and concentrated.

"Of course, I will try to answer to the best of my abilities." Dumbledore's smile bolstered Harry's spirit.

"Why were they killed and who killed them?" Harry's voice was steady although his hand trembled slightly.

Dumbledore smile dimmed a little, but he answered smoothly no doubt expecting the question. "Before I can answer that question, it is imperative that you understand some background information. At the time of their death, there was a war waged between two factions in the wizarding world. I shall take it that you know nothing at all of your wizard heritage?" Dumbledore asked and Harry could not help the slight blush that heated up his cheeks.

"You would be right." Harry composed himself quickly by taking a deep breath.

Dumbledore nodded to himself and continued. "Then I will start with a brief introduction to our world. The wizarding world is beside the mundane one, concealed through charms and wards that repel muggles, a term wizards use to refer to non-magicals. Though our worlds exist on the same plane, we are careful to mitigate our interactions with the muggle world and it is expressly forbidden to reveal magic to any non-magical except in certain familial cases." Dumbledore paused and took out a stick. It was a beautifully polished wooden stick and the dark matte of the wood seemed to gleam under the pale light of the Dursley's living room.

"Allow to me to demonstrate with a practical usage of magic. Wizards and witches are capable of doing amazing things with their wands." Dumbledore then tapped the desk between the two of them and Harry looked on in stupefaction as a tray of cookies and two glasses of water appeared from thin air. "The marvels of conjuring, a branch of transfiguration." Dumbledore's tone was mirthful and Harry grinned back.

"That is incredible." Harry was indeed impressed, especially when he felt the glass and nibbled on a cookie. They felt and tasted completely real.

Dumbledore held up his water and sipped it before resuming his earlier explanation. "The wizarding world is composed mostly of wizards and witches, but there are also many other races, mostly those of sentient magical creatures. Goblins and centaurs are two examples. They co-exist with us, but they do not necessarily hold the same rights as wizards do. I digress," Harry sensed that there were a few details not said, but reasoned to himself that he could find out more information later. "Within the wizard population, there are two main banners which unite individual families. The light side and the dark side." Here Dumbledore paused and looked at Harry to gauge his reaction.

Harry steepled his fingers together and tried to make sense of all the new terms. "I suppose that the war was between the two factions?"

"Yes, your parents were staunch defenders of the light side and they were murdered by the leader of the dark faction, Voldemort. Your parents were instrumental in several skirmishes against the Voldemort's camp and had thrice defied him, thereby incurring his wrath." Albus paused again and looked at Harry carefully. "I myself am accredited with leading the light side and knew your parents well. They had predicted that Voldemort was going to go after them soon after you were born and had planned accordingly. You were born in secrecy and they went into hiding shortly after, telling only a few select members whom they trusted with their lives." Dumbledore paused to give Harry some time to take everything in and then continued his story. "They were found despite the precautions they took and Voldemort struck them down. It is here that things began to become mysterious. Voldemort is well known for his cruelty and he is as powerful as he is insane. Though your parents were excellent fighters, they were unable to prevail and perished in the process. However, when I got to the safe house where your parents were hiding in, there was no trace of Voldemort and from the lingering magic that filled the room, I was able to deduce that he had cast a killing curse at you."

Harry gasped at this, even though he was not entirely sure what this meant, the term 'killing curse' was quite self-explanatory. Dumbledore continued, "The surprising result was that you were still alive, despite the fact that the killing curse was previously discerned to be unblockable and irreversible. Voldemort himself disappeared and it is the opinion of many that you were the cause of his downfall."

How were you supposed to react in a situation like this, Harry wondered. He chose to just sit there and say nothing. After all, what could you say to someone who just informed you that you were supposed to be dead, but you weren't.

"The scar on your forehead was caused by the backlash of the failed killing curse. And truthfully, there was ancient magic at play that night. Perhaps no one will be able to fully understand the events that occurred. Suffice to say, with Voldemort's disappearance, the war quickly ended. Voldemort's tactics were often reliant on generating large amounts of terror and fear, so with his defeat and your survival, many attributed his downfall to you." Dumbledore added quietly, knowing that Harry had a lot to take in. He then waved his wand and a very dry and old newspaper appeared out of thin air. "Perhaps we can talk more another time, for now I will leave you with an offer." He then pulled out from the folds of his purple robes a very familiar parchment.

Harry chuckled sheepishly. "Ah, I did not think what was written inside was literal."

Albus chuckled softly, "Indeed, which is why there is usually an accompanying professor to explain the situation. You are not the first to have refused, and certainly one of the more polite refusals." He placed the letter on the desk and continued, "I understand that this is a very difficult decision for you to make, you will most likely have to leave your friends and enter an unfamiliar world. Rest assured, you will be receiving education from some of the most brilliant witches and wizards there are. In addition, Hogwarts takes care of all housing and meal necessities. You will be staying at the school for the entire semester, and can come home during the summer and winter breaks."

Harry pretended to mull the issue over, but really who was he kidding. The chance to learn and experience something like this was a once in a lifetime chance. He had absolutely no reason to refuse, especially given that he had no real ties binding him to his current life. "I would more than happy to accept," Harry could not contain the smile that stretched across his face.

Dumbledore beamed back and reached a wrinkled hand into his florescent robes and pulled out a thick black book. "I had a feeling that you would accept, so I took the time to procure this book for you." Harry took the heavy book and marveled at the leathery feel of the cover. The back of the massive book was plain without any summary and the only design was a golden insignia of a dragon. Under his curious gaze, Harry saw the design flex marginally as the mouth of the dragon, composed of slender flourishes of golden ink, deepened and opened, from which a burst of vivid red orange ink burst out. The ruby eyes of the dragon gleamed and the vicious curl of the tail mesmerized Harry. A soft cough broke through his momentary lapse of attention and Harry blushed.

"Sorry Albus, I did not realize that the pictures on wizard books moved." He sheepishly scratched the back of his head. Harry could have sworn that the old man jerked, but when he looked up, Albus was relaxed and composed.

"No need to feel sorry for something that is entirely natural. Indeed, if anyone should apologize it would be me, after all I should have warned you ahead of time."

Harry flipped the black leather book and gazed at the completely blank title. Wait. There was a glimmer and Harry tilted the book to get a better look. At a certain angle, the words of the title appeared. When Harry shifted the angle again, the letters faded away. It seemed that the title only revealed itself at a specific angle. The cursive and flowery script was etched onto the dry leather with a symmetry that flowed perfectly. The comprehensive guide to the wizarding realm and all it's subsidiary dimension. By Salazar Slytherin. First edition.

Dumbledore spoke up, "I see you have found the illusive title. You will find Harry, that there are major differences between the world you know of and the world you are joining. One key difference is that the traditions of the past remains the same today in the wizarding world. Magic, you will find, stays constant throughout time. The book was written many thousands of years before today, but remains one of the finest guides to the wizarding world."

Harry nodded, though he was having difficulty grasping the sheer difference in culture. Such stagnation would be completely unacceptable in any of the sciences he knew of, and yet he could imagine how it had come about. He needed to wipe away all his prejudices, but it was no easy task. Certain instincts were deeply ingrained in his being, he could no more remove them than cease breathing. "Thank you Albus." He said it earnestly and Dumbledore chuckled softly.

"There is no need to thank me Harry. I invite you to join me at my office should you have any questions during your stay at Hogwarts. My doors are open to all students and there is nothing that cannot be asked." Dumbledore pulled out a golden stopwatch and from the fragmented view Harry momentarily glimpsed as the golden disk was revealed, it was filled with symbols and insignias that he did not recognize at all. "I am afraid I must take my leave. Again, I urge you to write to me should you have any questions. School starts in two more months, and all the details should be provided in the book."

Harry stood and extended his hand out to the frail looking old man. Dumbledore grasped it and the handshake was surprisingly solid. The vitality Dumbledore possessed was incredible, and as the elder took out his wand, Harry blurted out a question that he had for so long wanted to ask. "Albus, if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?"

Dumbledore winked and disappeared, but not before a voice whispered into Harry's ear, "One hundred and fifteen!"

"No way!" Harry exclaimed aloud in stupefaction. He must have been joking. Or not, Harry mused to himself. Who knows, maybe wizards had naturally longer life spans. Grinning to himself, he decided to retired to his room for the rest of the day. There was a book to read and a whole new world to explore. Snatching the letter from the desk, Harry rushed up the stairs.