Summary: What if Harry had taken just a few more minutes to explore his vault when Hagrid took him to Gringotts? What if James Potter was thinking ahead and left something more valuable than galleons and knuts for his son?
AN Note: I do not own Harry Potter, alas that honor belongs to JK Rowling.
Chapter 1: To Harry with Love
Harry stood within the vault eyes wide and heart galloping. The piles of gold and silver drew his attention for a long drawn-out moment. Could all this really be his? He blinked over towards the entrance, half terrified he would be locked in. He could see the cart with Hagrid looking ill within as well as Griphook, looking bored and impatient. Harry stifled the need to hurry on the large man's or the goblin's behalf and meandered further within the depths of the large cavernous room. More gold than he could count was piled toward the front but a large bookshelf nestled against the back wall drew his attention.
Harry scanned the shelves and saw quite a number of books. Each shelf was helpfully labeled he realized as first through seventh years. His eyes greedily went to the first-year shelf located at the bottom and saw a large cardboard box labeled First Year Essentials! There was also a letter taped to the top of the box.To Harry was scrawled across the front of a large cream-colored envelope in fancy cursive.
His eyes burned as he held back tears. Someone, maybe his mother or his father had cared enough to write his name. His fingers traced the words, and he gently removed the envelope from the box. Holding it reverentially in his hand then flipped it over and saw it was sealed in red wax embossed with the letter P in the shape of a flaming bird. A phoenix? Harry wasn't sure. He longed to read the letter but wanted to take his time so he placed it in his pocket, careful not to crumple it. His attention then turned toward the box. It looked like an ordinary small cardboard box. He picked it up and was surprised that it was so light, then he quickly opened it peering inside.
He felt an immediate sense of disappointment, the box looked dark and empty. He stared into the dark void for a bit with a sigh. Wait a minute? Why was it dark? Confused he stared harder as if he could see past the darkness. Then as if on instinct he put it on the floor and reached his hand into the box and he couldn't feel the bottom! Curious, he stuck his head into the box and suddenly he lost his balance and tumbled into it! It seemed he fell at least ten feet landing with a hard thump.
He opened his eyes with a wince rubbing the back of his head where it had made contact with the ground and took a look around in shock. Somehow he was inside the box! Only it was about the size of a large room. He could see there was a pile of books and a few other items that he didn't have a lot of time to explore because suddenly he was more concerned about being trapped in a box. That fact alone almost sent him into hysterics.
He slowly stood up and looked toward the opening and saw there was a ladder attached to the side of the box. Harry kept spinning taking in the details. Some kind of soft ambient light now filled the space. How could it be so much larger on the inside than on the outside? He took another quick look around and though he would have loved to explore further. He decided he would take the box with him and look through its contents when he wasn't so pressed for time. He quickly climbed out of the box using the ladder and then once out, the box still looked like a regular old 3'x3' cardboard box, but no way would anyone think inside was bigger than Dudley's bedroom!
Harry quickly filled the bag the goblins had provided with gold and silver coins, gathered the box, and headed back towards the cart and the impatiently waiting Hagrid. "Got what ya need there Harry?" Hagrid asked. "Took ya long enough." His eyes went nervously towards the Goblin who had been keeping a healthy eye on the half-giant.
Harry nodded happily. "It was brilliant!" Harry didn't elaborate on the box or letter as the cart took off and Hagrid went green. Perhaps that more than anything else kept Hagrid from commenting on the box that Harry held carefully in his lap. For Harry's part, he couldn't wait to get back to the Dursleys for the first time in his life. The letter he had found felt like fire against his thumping heart.
Luckily the rest of the shopping trip served as a pleasant distraction for the young wizard that it wasn't until late that night after the Dursleys sent him to his new room, Dudley's second bedroom that Harry finally had time to read the letter. The box and his new pet owl Hedwig had made it past Vernon's restrictions. The owl because she couldn't survive under the stairs, and the box because it was an old empty ratty box. Perfectly normal. The rest was locked under the stairs until September. Harry wasn't too chuffed though he would have liked to have his school books but he remembered there were books in the box.
That night, as he listened to the Dursleys settle in for the night, Harry sat on the edge of his bed and pulled the letter out of his pocket. In spite of his best intentions, it did get a bit crinkled. He gently smoothed it between his palms and took in writing, ' To Harry'. Again struck with awe that someone had written to him. He carefully broke the wax seal and drew out the parchment from the envelope.
Son,
You are eleven years old if you are reading this letter. Right now, you are six months old but already a very powerful young wizard. You have successfully turned my hair pink. At six months old! I'm watching your mother rock you to sleep right now, and I can honestly say that I have never been happier, and more terrified. I hope I don't mess up. There's a lot I want to teach you and show you. Not just about magic, or about pranking, but about being a good person, a good friend, and living an honorable life. And of course pranking!
I have been worried lately though, because our community is currently embroiled in a civil war. There are some pretty bad wizards running amok, and sometimes I get a feeling… Well, I worry. My job is to protect you and your mum and to that end, I've gathered some things just in case things go pear-shaped. Your mum says that the Boy Scout motto *some kind of muggle organization* is Always Be Prepared. So I've prepared a few things for you. As you probably noticed the box has some expansion charms on them. If you tap the box with your wand and say Prongs is the Best, it will shrink to fit in your pocket. Otherwise, it is just the right size to fit into a school trunk.
Hogwarts is a great place to learn Harry. Do your best and your mom and I will be proud of you no matter how many Owls you get. I hope you follow more closely to your mother's example than my own regarding your education. I spent too much time goofing off and getting into trouble. There's nothing wrong with having fun, but I wish I had spent more time making friends instead of pranking enemies. With your mum's influence, I doubt you'll be the bully I was. I also hope you choose to make friends in all the houses. Yes, even Slytherin house has its virtues. I wish I had known that sooner. So in case you don't sort into Gryffindor like your mum and I did, just know we are still proud of you and will always love you. No matter what Harry, you will always be our son.
Have a great first year at Hogwarts.
Love Dad
Harry took a long time reading the letter. It didn't help that his vision was blurred by tears, or that the words were written in cursive, beautiful yet difficult to decipher. The involuntary rush of emotions as he read through his father's letter to him nearly left him incapacitated. He fell asleep with the letter clasped to his heart and tears drying on his cheeks, too spent to explore the box, but bolstered by the knowledge that his parents had loved him, would have been proud of him, and considered him important enough to protect and give advice to. The words Love Dad filled a void in his heart that he hadn't even known existed. Little did he know the memory of seeing those two written words for the first time would fuel his Patronus for years.