A/N: Oops, sorry it took so long. Finals are starting, I am starting to work extra hours, and I am preparing to go away to college next fall. Anyway, here is the next chapter. Just a heads up, there will be a little James bashing in this chapter, but James will share his side in the next one.

Chapter 2

"Oi, get the mail!"

Harry bit the inside of his mouth in a desperate attempt to avoid making a snide comment to his Uncle. Vernon, on the other hand, didn't even bother to look up from his breakfast; everyone already knew who he was addressing. Harry silently made his way to the mail slot and shuffled through the letters, before beaming.

"Harry Jameson," he read from the envelope in a whisper. "Cupboard under the stairs, 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey."

Taking a deep breath, the boy somehow managed to keep his face blank as he walked into the kitchen and gave his uncle all but his own letter. As the other males were too engrossed in their food and Petunia was busy being the perfect housewife, none of them paid Harry any mind as he opened his letter under the table and read his Hogwarts acceptance letter in entirety several times. They never even noticed him leave the table to carefully hid his letter under his worn mattress.

"Boy! Get in here and clear the table!"

At his uncle's shout, Harry raced back into the kitchen to begin his chores. His plan was to finish the day's list by lunchtime and to bring up the letter when he managed to get his aunt alone, as she was most likely to let him go.

Weeks ago, he and Mrs. Figg agreed that she would take him to Diagon Alley herself. Money may be an issue, but the Goblins often can get funds for orphaned and Muggle-raised children. There was also a chance that Harry's parents were wizards and left him some money when they died.

In the other room, Petunia was setting the table for Dudley's midmorning snack. Harry hadn't noticed, but she had seen the tell-tale purple seal on the envelope the boy had opened and quickly re-wrote the list of chores he was to perform. Having grown up with a cousin who was also a freak, Vernon was aware that they had little choice in the matter.

Despite herself, the usually sour woman smiled fondly at the thought of her husband. Many months into their courtship, the two discovered their similar secrets. As Petunia grew up feeling isolated by her younger sister, Violets', skills; and Vernon had been bullied by a cousin who took advantage of the unexplained things that he could make happen; the two were drawn closer by their hatred of the other world. When Petunia's nephew was forced upon them after her sister and husband were killed in a drunk driving accident of all things, the couple unconsciously began to take their pent up anger out on Harry.

Both knew there was nothing they could do to stop his accidental magic from manifesting itself, but Vernon often muttered about beating the freak out of the boy. Petunia assumed that this was her husband's way of justifying the violence to himself. She was guilty of the behavior herself, verbally abusing her nephew the way she never could do to her sister. Very rarely did Petunia strike the boy, preferring to set him with multiple chores along with her husband.

This day, however, she fixed his list so he would be done by noon, leaving him time to follow Petunia's instructions to the Leaky Cauldron which would lead him to Diagon Alley. She had been there occasionally with Violet and their parents to get the freak school supplied and knew the freak bank had funds for poor freaks. She would instruct the boy to ask for one and to use it wisely.

As Petunia finished Dudley's hot chocolate and began toasting the muffins, the boy came in. She assumed that the boy had raced through his chores, clearly planning to plead his case. She rolled her eyes as he shyly mentioned the letter and begged to go. To Harry's shock, his aunt told him how to get to the Leaky Cauldron and ordered him to ask for a "orphan fund" at the bank.

Wide eyed, Harry grabbed the letter from his cupboard and, in a fit of kindness rarely seen in the Dursley household, asked his aunt if she needed anything while he was out.

Petunia was shaken, kindness in the face of hatred was pure Violet. Unsure whether she should cry or slap the boy, she settled for a glare. "If it is not on the list, don't do it. And don't ask questions!"

"I was just being nice," Harry muttered as he left the kitchen.

This time, Petunia didn't hesitate to smack the ungrateful brat upside the head. Vernon would hear about this.

Mrs. Figg beamed as Harry raced into the house brandishing his letter. "Congratulations!" She exclaimed, hugging the young boy, who froze briefly at the contact. No matter how often this happened, he always returned the hug.

"Let's go to Diagon Alley," she said, leading the child to the fireplace.

"Okay! Aunt Petunia actually told me how to get to the Leaky Cauldron."

The old woman's eyes widened. That suggested Harry's mother was at least a witch. "Well, that is unexpected. But we will be using the Floo."

Harry beamed with excitement. Mrs. Figg had told him all about it and shown him pictures of the powder and the green flames. After having him annunciate Diagon Alley clearly several times to avoid mishaps, she gave Harry a handful of powder and the beaming child hopped into the fireplace and threw down the powder while shouting "Diagon Alley!"

Heads turned as the child stumbled out of the fireplace, coughing and gasping for breath. Despite some sympathetic smiles and Tom racing forward to help the boy to his feet, few people reacted. After being cleaned off by the kind barman, Harry took a good look around the pub. About a minute later, Mrs. Figg came out of the fireplace and lead him to the entrance of Diagon Alley.

The alley was completely chaotic to say the least. Shocked, Harry backed into Mrs. Figg and gawked, unused to seeing so many people. Arabella gently lead the overwhelmed boy away from the crowded entrance, wondering why there would be so many people before catching sight of several cameras and reporters. "Of course," she scoffed. "The Potters."

"Who?" Harry asked from behind her.

Mrs. Figg shook her head; sure she had told Harry all about You-know-who and likely mentioned Leanne Potter in passing. However, with all the publicity the girl was getting, front page every other week or at least a passing mention in any article from broomstick ads to important Gringotts news; Arabella was unable to escape the fame of a child who had no memory of how she achieved her fame. She knew it was wrong, but she felt that James may be to blame. After all, it's not like an 11 year old girl contacted the Prophet to tell them she was going shopping, and rumor has it, James hasn't worked since You-know-who was defeated by his not so little girl.

After being filled in, Harry relaxed enough to scan the crowd and look at the heavy red-head in the center of the attention. He couldn't shake the feeling that everything about this girl screamed spoiled; screamed Dudley. Pushing down the sudden urge to throw something heavy at the famous girl in the center of reporters, Harry rushed to keep pace with Mrs. Figg, who was briskly walking to the bank. Harry never noticed the dark haired man standing off to the side of all the photographers; and James Potter was too busy trying to protect his daughter without stealing any amount of her spotlight, he never saw the thin little boy who looked almost exactly like him.

Harry couldn't help but sneak a few glances at the Goblins. To their credit, the Goblins never acknowledged it, by now they must be used to the curious stares of Muggleborns and their families. "Excuse me. We may need a student scholarship for Harry here. His parents died several years ago, and we don't know if they were wizards. Is there a way we can find out who they are and if they left money for Harry when they died?" Mrs. Figg explained to one of the Goblins, Griphook.

The old Goblin nodded impatiently. "Follow me," he stated briskly, leading the two into his office. "Mr. Jameson, I will need a small sample of blood to do a heritage potion. We have them ready so this will only take a moment of your time. The results will appear above your head and I will run the names of your parents through our general registry."

The boy gave Mrs. Figg a nervous look before holding his arm out to Griphook. The Goblin took a clean knife from his top drawer and quickly drew it across Harry's forearm. Harry watched in fascination as Griphook dripped the blood into the murky green potion, turning it a pale blue. "Thank you, sir." Harry said to the shocked Goblin as his arm was healed.

Mrs. Figg couldn't help but feel excited as Harry drank the potion in one gulp. As his skin gave off a slight glow, the boy stared at his exposed skin in awe while the elderly woman and Goblin waited for the words to appear above the mop of black hair. Within seconds, the two stared in shocked silence at the three lines above the oblivious child's head.

Child: Harry James Potter

Father: James Potter

Mother: Lily Potter n.e. Evans

A/N: Oh boy! Shit is going down! What will happen? What will they tell Harry? Well, you will have to wait two more chapters (which will hopefully be updated faster ;P)

Anyway, they will be going to Hogwarts in about three or four chapters. Who will they meet on the train? What houses will everyone be in? (at least one person will be in a different house than the one they are in from the book… this year.) Again, review with any questions, issues, suggestions, requests, etc.