It had been four years. Harry was now eight going on nine and had read every book he could find in the house (including Aaron's untouched birthday present: Quidditch Through the Ages). He had long since stopped trying to regain his father's acceptance. After a few highly unsuccessful attempts at gaining his attention in which his dad refused to even look at him, Harry had come to the conclusion that there must just be something inherently wrong with him that no amount of magical prowess was going to fix. After all, his father was older and therefore wiser and if he could tell that Harry was broken then he must be. The eight-year-old had given up any hope of fixing himself through study but still enjoyed reading and learning for the sake of it. True, he was broken, but if he could learn enough to make a positive impact on the world and maybe even help others, then perhaps he could offset some of that brokenness. This was Harry's new take on learning and he took it on with vigor.
The problem was that the child had read just about everything there was to read in the Potter mansion and there was no more easily accessible knowledge from which he could draw. At the age of eight, the child had mastered the art of wandless magic (not that there was much to master seeing as he already spoke the language of magic and was able to harness its power with merely a thought). Still, such a feat was remarkable in the most experienced wizard and a mere child accomplishing it was virtually unheard of. Harry however, had not had enough.
He had read in some of the books about muggle traditions and ways of living and was of the opinion that, despite what most wizards thought of them, their advancements in science and philosophy were far beyond what the wizarding world was even able to conceive. The thought that they rode in metal containers which ran on fuel which they dug out of the ground and drugged their brains with this chemical known as caffeine which apparently affected their brains so as to keep them awake was fascinating to him. The more he thought about it, the more the child realized that perhaps he had not exhausted the knowledge that the world had to offer him. Perhaps he had merely scratched the surface. There was a whole other world out there full of books just waiting for him to pick up and read. A small grin found its way onto his young face. He could do so much...now where to start.
The admissions representative peered skeptically at the young man standing nervously in front of him. The lad seemed to be around the age of sixteen and was requesting admittance to one of the most precocious universities in all of Great Britain with no money to pay for it and no schooling background.
"Are you out of your mind?" He asked, believing the interview to be a total waste of his time. "You do realize that you meet none of the requirements necessary for acceptance at this school?"
The boy replied softly in a voice far too young for his appearance (Harry really needed to work on the voice effects) "I realize that sir, but would you please just give me a chance? I have been homeschooled in all the subjects and, despite the lack of records, know all of them quite thoroughly."
The admissions worker sighed and threw his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Fine kid. You can take the entrance examination. But don't come crying to me when you don't make it in."
"Thank you sir!" Harry responded excitedly. "I swear you won't regret it!"
"Yeah, yeah. Just get out of my office and shut the door behind you. The test is Saturday. Just don't get your hopes up kid." The man replied as he turned back to the piles of paper swamping his desk.
Two weeks later found Harry sitting opposite the desk of the University President being offered a full ride starting in the spring semester. Harry smiled brightly shaking the man's hand and promising to be back bright and early January first ready for more learning.