Hagrid didn't understand what went wrong, but he blamed the damned letter.

Everything had been just fine until Harry had opened that wax seal and begun to read. Sure, he was a bit skittish, but who wouldn't be? He hadn't been allowed to even say the word 'magic' in his house before today, so all this was new and scary. The intelligent young lad sensed that all of this was wrong, and bad. Still, he'd read the letter, giving in to his all-too-human curiosity.

But as little Harry had read, his fingers had begun to shake. His face lost the small amount of color it had regained in the presence of the enchanted flames' heat, and a low groan had started from somewhere in his stomach. He dropped the pages of the letter and curled into himself, silent tears beginning to drip down his face. Hagrid could only tell he was crying because of the snuffles he heard; Harry had buried his face in his knees.

When Harry began to rock back and forth, Hagrid realized with an unpleasant lurch that the boy was actually attempting to comfort himself, rather than seek the comfort of another. That's why he was clutching his knees so desperately. And the way he used every method he could to stifle the noise he made while crying...

Only children who were afraid to be discovered 'being bad' learned how to do that.

Hagrid's giant fists clenched and his hand snapped up to the door those Muggles were hiding behind. Why, he wanted to...! Well, he wanted to do something very uncharitable. A sinner like him couldn't possibly hope to understand the depths of the sacrifice the Dursleys had made for Harry's sake.

But Harry needed him more right now.

"Hey, uh..." Hagrid started, even though he had absolutely no idea what to say. "Yer goin' teh be all righ'... 's okay..." He wanted to hug Harry but wasn't sure if he should, as the boy would rightfully recoil from his foul touch. Harry looked up at him, green eyes streaming with tears, and said something that broke Hagrid's heart:

"I... won't... be." And then Harry looked into the flames dancing so merrily in the fireplace and they sheepishly extinguished themselves, dying out with an embarrassed shiver. The flames of Hell would be quite warm enough; Harry didn't want any reminders of his fate. Still, the flames going out on command seemed to confirm the horrible words in that letter, that he could do magic. That, or the hut had a very good sense of dramatic timing. Probably the former.

"Yer a wizard, Harry." Hagrid tried, hoping that putting it right out there might help Harry cope. That, or he just had a really bad sense of timing. Probably the latter. "Yeh were born tha' way an' yeh'll prob'ly be a powerful one, if yeh take after yer parents..." But Harry was shaking his head back and forth, hard enough that he was probably rattling his brains.

"I am a Christian!" He suddenly shouted, jumping up from the couch and dropping his teacup. It bounced harmlessly on the rough wooden floor, but the tea spilled out. "I... I..." But he was crying again. "I just wanted to get saved..."

"Harry," Hagrid said, thinking as rapidly as he could. Dumbledore should have come, he would have been so much better for this. "Yeh can be a wizard AN' a Christian."

"Can't." Harry began to shake his head again and seemed unable to stop. "Can't, can't, can't..." Something suddenly seemed to occur to him and he actually smiled up at Hagrid through his tears. He gulped back some more sobs and managed to say quite calmly, "Of course you would say I can, because you want me to convert."

"Convert...?" Hagrid blinked. Of course Harry saw right through his ploy to drag the boy to Hell right along with him. He'd have to play innocent. "Harry, we won't ask tha' of yeh. It's jus' a school... fer wizards... which yeh are."

"That's what you would say!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his arms out in exasperation. "And then the blood oath comes out once my guard's down! I won't sacrifice any small animals! I won't!"

Hagrid could only blink. This was not what he'd expected at all. Young children were usually so easy to tempt over—all it took was a piece of cake in extreme circumstances—most children were excited about their letters, not realizing that by attending Hogwarts they were essentially signing their souls away to the Devil. But Harry was smarter than that.

Hagrid didn't think any of this, but the narrator is sure his thoughts followed a similar line. After all, Hagrid represented a tool of the Devil.

Said tool of the Devil, meanwhile, was still bewildered. He picked up Harry's teacup and refilled it, then held it kind of hopelessly like he wasn't sure whether or not to offer it to the boy. "So... yeh don' want teh go to Hogwarts?" asked Hagrid with confusion.

"Do I get a choice?" bit Harry with some venom, gesturing towards Hagrid's huge form. Hagrid understood the implication and flinched. Harry made a good point; Hagrid could very easily drag him anywhere in the world, with his brute strength and sheer size.

"Harry... I wouldn'... I'd never. Yeh don' have teh go if yeh don' wan'. I jus'..."

At his words, Harry deflated like a popped balloon. He sank to the floor on his knees and stared down at the rotted, warped wood. "I don't... I don't really have a choice." He finally almost-whispered. "I don't have anywhere else to go, do I?" The Dursleys had abandoned him, and rightfully so—he was a sinner, had been born that way and could not escape it. It was a miracle they had put up with him for this long.

"Harry, I... look..." Hagrid let out a great sigh, like a gust from a bellows, and placed one giant hand as carefully as he could on Harry's shoulder. His hand fit over the boy's entire back. "Yeh don' have teh go. I mean tha'. But... but Hogwarts is a good place. I promise yeh. And yeh have teh learn teh control yer magic or yeh migh' hurt someone."

"All right." Harry said, after what seemed like a very long time. "All right." And he stood up and shrugged Hagrid's hand off, looking towards the door where the Dursleys had hid. "Then... let's just go." The Dursleys wouldn't want to be tainted by him any longer. He wouldn't trouble them with a goodbye. "Let's go."

Hagrid led Harry out of the hut and into his little boat, the rain parting in a small dome around the boat once they boarded. Harry looked up briefly when the rain suddenly cut off but didn't comment.

"Bein' a wizard is grea', really!" Hagrid had offered about halfway across the lagoon. He was desperate to fill the awkward silence. But wise little Harry had only looked at him, and when he finally spoke, his voice was soft.

"Miracles are the Lord's domain; only He should hold such power. He created man inferior to His might and that was His plan."

"Hmm..." Hagrid thought that perhaps he finally had something he could argue with. "Harry, yeh ever do magic before the fire? Accidental-like?"

Harry started, blinking rapidly. Those 'events...' The teacher's blue hair, for one. And that time he had inexplicably ended up on the roof, far away from Dudley. He had thanked the Lord for that miracle, but... had it been magic?

Hagrid took his silence for the acquiescence it was. "An' if yeh did it like tha', then tha' means it's part of yeh. An' the Lord created everythin', righ'? So, tha' means he created yeh, magic and all." The boat bumped up against the shore, but neither of them moved. Harry was staring at him still, but this time wistfully. He wanted so badly to hope.

"You think... the Lord created me this way?"

Hagrid nodded. "Must've done, the way I see it."

Harry took in one last long, shuddering sob, and then calmed. "He moves in mysterious ways." The boy said quietly. Then he stood up and hopped off the boat. Hagrid followed him off the boat, bemused. Well, that had been... interesting. But Harry was drying his tears now and looking past the clouds, presumably watching for some sign of his God. During the boat trip, the rain had stopped and now the only sound in this remote area was the rumbling of the rough waves chopping the rocks to sand. "Where are we going next? Direct to Hogwarts?" Hagrid didn't know what Harry was looking for, but he supposed the boy must have found it, for a profound peace settled over his previously troubled face. He suddenly realized that Harry had asked him a question.

"Nope, Harry... nex' stop is Diagon Alley."

Soooo... this is turning into a 'real' story... somehow. What do you all think? Harry's still not okay with being a wizard, not by half, but he's getting used to the idea (and jumping on the first buoy to his faith that Hagrid threw him, out of desperation). He wants to believe that God has a plan for him. Next chapter is... Voldemort! Oh c'mon, you know you want to know what I'm going to do to that poor bastard. Rating's jumped to T because of my foul mouth. I wouldn't want to corrupt any ickle firsties, now would I? Review if you like. I love them. I will respond at length. And possibly shower you with cookies. Anyway.