Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Harry Potter universe. It is the property of Joanne Rowling. The only things that belong to me, are the original characters and stories that I have written.
When Harry awoke the morning of his eleventh birthday the sun had yet to rise. At first, he did not understand what had woken him at this ungodly hour. Then someone quietly opened the door to his room. Reaching out with his magic, he quickly confirmed that it was only his brother, Dudley. When the door clicked shut, Harry creaked one eye open and whispered: "What is it, Dudley?"
"I wanted to surprise you for your birthday but you are impossible to sneak up on." Dudley's pout was almost audible as he responded. "Happy birthday Harry." He continued.
"Thank you very much, Dudley. Why couldn't this wait until the sun was up at least?" Harry questioned quietly.
That got Dudley going. "Well… Dad and I bought this present, it's a game for the mega drive." Harry felt something land on his bed. "It just came out and it looks really fun, I was hoping we could play it."
He scooted back into a sitting position and flipped the switch on his bed lamp. As the mellow light filled his room he was greeted by Dudley's grinning face.
"Open it." The other boy urged him.
Just to mess with Dudley he took as long as possible when opening the rectangular package. They both knew exactly what he was doing and Dudley glared at him playfully the entire time. Harry had to fight back a squeal when seeing the familiar blue figure adorning the box he had just unwrapped – Sonic the Hedgehog.
He carefully extracted the cartridge and handed it over to Dudley. "Well, what are you waiting for? Let's get this show on the road."
In a flash, Dudley had everything turned on and was seated next to Harry on the bed, controller in hand and watching the iconic Sega intro. They spent the next couple of hours quietly chatting while passing the controller back and forth. When the sun had risen in the sky, Petunia opened the door to his room.
With a raised eyebrow she asked. "And how long have the two of you been awake?"
They cringed a little bit at her question. "Dudley was too excited and couldn't go back to sleep, so he woke me up to celebrate my birthday," Harry replied.
"I'll overlook it this once because of the day." Petunia admonished. Then she reached over to muss up his hair. "Happy birthday, Harry."
With a smile on his lips, he responded. "Thanks, mum"
"Clean yourselves up and be down in an hour for breakfast," Petunia ordered them before leaving.
They took turns completing their morning necessities while the other played the new game until the hour was up. Then, sharply dressed and freshly showered they walked downstairs to find their mother sitting at the kitchen table, crying.
She was being comforted with reassuring words from their father, though it didn't seem to lessen her crying at all. Petunia looked up when they entered the kitchen and simply pointed at an envelope that lay on the kitchen table. Harry blinked once or twice before realizing that it was his Hogwarts letter. He was tempted to shout in glee but held himself back, it would seem that he had forgotten Petunia's fraught relationship with the wizarding world. A world that had not only denied her but also taken the only remaining family she had.
"I w-was hoping that they would have forgotten about you by now. So you could stay here in the normal world, with your family. That world only takes and gives absolutely nothing but misery back. I can't lose you too Harry." Petunia sobbed.
It took but a moment for him to cross the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around his adoptive mother in a hug, as tight as he could make it. "I've got to go. You said so yourself, otherwise, they will just take me against your wishes. It will be good for me to learn from proper teachers and not only my stories."
Petunia clung to him. "I know. This just made it all so real. Promise me you'll be as safe as you can be, Harry."
He nodded solemnly, "I promise I will try my best to be safe. You don't have to worry so much, it is a magical school with a magical nurse, if anything happens they'll fix me up in an instant."
Vernon cleared his throat and they both turned to look at him. He and Dudley had opened and read the letter from Hogwarts, apparently, they had questions. "How are we going to send a reply? We obviously need a guide of some sort, since you can't remember where that dingy pub of theirs is located. What was it you called it, the Leaking Bucket?"
Both Harry and Petunia snorted loudly. "The Leaky Cauldron." They corrected simultaneously. "Yes, I guess we'll be needing a guide, it's been twenty years since I was there. I only remember that it was somewhere in London." Petunia took a breath before continuing. "And they use owls for communication, so that's how we reply."
"Where in the seven blazing Hells are we supposed to get a magical post owl?" Vernon asked no one in particular.
They all looked at each other, mirth in their eyes, and Harry's grumblings about wizards and their lack of common sense had them all laughing out loud.
The next morning another letter addressed to Harry arrived. Dudley opened it to see if there were any changes from yesterday's letter, but it was exactly the same.
On Thursday when the post arrived, there were three letters addressed to Harry, and once again Dudley opened one to check the contents, when they found it to be identical to the previous ones the Dursleys were starting to get annoyed. Harry knew if it followed the story, that this was only the beginning, therefore he told Vernon that he should use the extras as kindling.
With Friday morning came the next step of escalation. When the post arrived, they found no less than twelve letters addressed to Harry. They were also placed in a bucket with the rest of the kindling, and Harry suggested that since they had so much burnable material they could toast marshmallows as a Friday treat. That had resulted in a nice quiet evening with all of them bundled up in blankets in front of the fire.
When the Saturday post delivered twenty-four identical letters, they all laughed at the stupidity of wizards and witches, they didn't know what else to do. Their family had no way of contacting the wizarding world and they had no way of halting the flow of letters. All of them went straight into a rubbish bag in the garage. Once again there were a lot of grumbles about wizards and their common sense, or lack thereof.
Sunday morning in an almost perfect replica of the books Harry had once read. Vernon when sitting down for breakfast tempted fate with his words. "No post on Sundays."
"Dad, why did you have to go and tempt fate?" Dudley groaned. "Who knows what these crazy people will think up next?"
"Well, even wizards need a day off…" Vernon paused when he saw them all stare at something behind him. Turning around he spotted a letter hanging in the air in front of his face. "What the-" He was forced once again to stop, this time because, with a great rumble letter after letter kept shooting out of the fireplace.
With a sigh and a flick of his finger, Harry froze all of them in place. "This is just getting ridiculous." More and more letters kept coming in, and he kept freezing them. "Three guesses as to what will happen tomorrow, and the first two don't count."
"Are they trying to break that secrecy law of yours or what?" Dudley questioned, "Imagine if one of our neighbours walked in right now."
"Idiots." Vernon chuckled. "I don't suppose there's anything we can do but wait it out. I only hope the house survives."
Petunia hummed, "What if we were to go away for a few days, stay in a hotel? They wouldn't dare do something like this then."
"Not a bad idea, Pet. We've talked about taking the boys to Hampton Court. This might be the perfect opportunity." Came the response from Vernon.
"What's Hampton Court?" Asked Dudley.
"It's one of the most famous palaces in the United Kingdoms, Henry VIII used to live there. It's a very nice place to visit,"Petunia answered.
"Then it's settled, go pack your bags boys. We're off on an adventure." Vernon exclaimed enthusiastically.
Unfortunately, it would seem that they once again overestimated the intelligence of wizards and witches. The very next morning at breakfast in their hotel, the receptionist approached guest after guest looking for a Mr H. Potter. When she approached their table, Vernon quietly informed her that they could throw the letters away.
They spent the rest of the day enjoying their time sightseeing everything surrounding Hampton Court and enjoyed a fine dinner at a well-recommended restaurant. Then, considering none of them wanted to be arrested for contributing to breaking the statute of secrecy they aborted their trip and went home early. They went to bed exhausted but happy and with very little care for the stupid ideas of wizards.
BANG – BANG – BANG – BANG
Harry was woken from his dreams in an instant. His eyes were wide open and his breathing was laboured, it sounded like someone was trying to break into the house. In a few moments he had exited his room out into the hallway where he almost crashed into Vernon and Petunia, he could see Dudley peering out of his doorway further down the hall.
"Get back in your rooms and lock the doors behind you. I'm calling the police." Vernon barked in his rush down the stairway.
While Dudley did as he was told, Harry instead tried to follow Vernon. He was blocked by Petunia who was trying to herd him back into his room.
"Mum, with my magic I'm best able to protect myself out of anyone in this house, let me go so I can help dad," Harry exclaimed as he tried to break out of his mother's grasp.
Petunia's grip on him tightened and she whimpered before she seemed to realize the truth in his words. "Be careful." She whispered as she let him go.
As Harry lept down the stairs two or three at a time he readied his mind and magic, he didn't have any truly harmful spells in his arsenal. But against a normal person, even a criminal, his telekinetic ability should be more than enough. Out of the living room, the fire poker floated, and from the kitchen came the knives and the pots and pans, just as Harry had readied them all in front of him in a sort of protective wall - the door flew off its hinges and came crashing down into the hallway.
It was pure luck that Harry remembered a scene very much like this one. For just a moment he paused, and that was enough.
Where the door once had been, now stood a giant of a man with big bushy brown hair. The giant awkwardly looked at all the sharp instruments aimed his way. "Eh, well, hello there…" He trailed off.
Vernon who was frozen with his hand outstretched towards the telephone seemed to rally when the intruder displayed insecurity. "Who do you think you are!" He shouted angrily.
The giant of a man started nervously fidgeting with his beard. "Well…" he tried, "You see…" he tried again. He took a moment before starting, "The name's Hagrid, I work at Hogwarts." He stammered out. "Got sent here to deliver a letter to young Harry."
"And that gives you the right to knock down our door at" Vernon paused in his shouting to glance at the ornate clock in the hallway "two in the god-damn morning?"
Hagrid blushed a deep red while his mouth opened and closed a couple of times. "Well… I got an address to a hotel where they told me the last letter was delivered. You weren't there so I had to go back to Hogwarts to have Professor Dumbledore locate you – guess I got a little excited and I didn't realize how late it was."
Hagrid's childlike demeanour seemed to mollify Vernon somewhat. "Well since we're all up… Come on in, and I'll put the kettle on. Petunia, Dudley, you can come down, it's just one of those people! You know – the ones without common sense."
Harry heard Dudley's giggles across the house.
When they were all seated in the living room, where Hagrid alone took the entire sofa, each with a cup of tea in hand. They watched as Hagrid was rifling through his pockets in search of something, it didn't take very long for him to fish out a letter and proudly present it to Harry. "Ta-da. One Hogwarts letter successfully delivered."
"What is so special about this one? I've got a hundred just like it out in the garage." Harry nonchalantly responded.
It was almost comical how fast Hagrid's expression changed from happy to downcast, his expression looked like he had seen someone kick a puppy.
"You got them all? Does that mean you aren't coming to Hogwarts then? You have to go, it's the best school in all of Britain." Hagrid was almost in hysterics by this point.
"Whoa, hold your horses. Of course, I'm going to Hogwarts, where else would I be attending." Harry responded quickly.
"Why haven't you sent your reply then?"
Harry sighed frustratedly, "How am I supposed to? We haven't got the slightest clue where to find a magical post owl, my family are normal people. You know that right?"
Once again Hagrid was blushing up a storm and nervously combing through his beard with his fingers. He didn't seem to know what to say or do, so Harry took pity on him and restarted the conversation.
"Well… we have a couple of questions for you."
Hagrid seemed to perk up at that, "Yeh can ask me anything, Harry."
Petunia cleared her throat, thus bringing the attention of the room unto herself. "Well if you're answering any questions, kindly explain why my son was left on our doorstep overnight in the middle of November." Her pointed question caused Hagrid to flounder for a bit.
"I brought him here myself." Hagrid began awkwardly. "Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were waiting for me at the end of the street. It was the headmaster who put young Harry there, he made sure he was safe – I promise."
"Why didn't you just knock on the door?" Petunia asked exasperatedly.
"Eh… Professor McGonagall asked the same question. Professor Dumbledore said that you didn't like the wizarding world and it might make you treat Harry badly if we told you in person." Hagrid responded quickly.
"Hmpf." Was Petunia's only response as she crossed her arms over her chest. Though deep inside she admitted to herself that it might have had an impact on how she would have treated Harry.
An awkward silence settled over the room after Petunia and Hagrid's exchange.
Vernon harrumphed awkwardly. "So… What kind of courses do you offer at this school of yours then?"
Hagrid looked relieved at the change of topic. "You've got the regulars like charms and transfiguration. Then you've got the extras where you can learn things like runes and how to care for magical creatures."
"Is that all? What about maths, history, the sciences, or physical education?" Vernon enquired.
"Ehm… There's history of magic with Professor Binns and if you want to exercise you could join one of the Quidditch teams." Hagrid responded jovially.
After hearing that Vernon was starting to look perturbed. "You teach nothing that can be of use in the normal world?"
A light blush was slowly spreading across Hagrid's face. "Well, there's Muggle studies to learn about your world…"
"Muggle? That sounds like some kind of disease!" Vernon's ire was rising and he took a few calming breaths before continuing, "How is my son going to get a job and have a happy future with what you're offering at that school of yours."
Harry was starting to feel a little sorry for Hagrid so he decided to intervene before someone said something that couldn't be taken back. Maybe by learning that Hagrid wasn't responsible for anything regarding education at Hogwarts, they would calm down. "So what do you teach Professor Hagrid?"
"Oh, I don't teach anything, I'm the gamekeeper. Got hired right out of Hogwarts I did, by Albus Dumbledore himself, great man he is." Hagrid finished with a great grin.
"Not to be rude Mr Hagrid but how often do you do these introductions for non-magical families?" Petunia piped in.
"It's just Hagrid, and this is the first time. I asked Professor Dumbledore if I could be the one to come visit Harry, I knew your parents I did. Great people they were, it was horrible what happened to them." Hagrid finished morosely.
Vernon seemed ready to pounce on the fact that Hagrid was woefully underprepared and underqualified for this sort of conversation, but Petunia laid a calming hand on his arm as she began to speak. "While we're very grateful-" Vernon snorted at that, "for your visit, maybe you could go back and get someone more experienced at these introductions."
Hagrid seemed to be on the verge of breaking down in tears, he truly wore his heart on his sleeve. Petunia thankfully seemed to notice almost immediately. "It's not an insult towards you, it's just-" she paused, "are you able to give us all the information we need? Information about his future classes and other studies? Or how we would deal with a medical emergency? Are you in a position to give us an informed opinion on future career opportunities?"
Hagrid sagged a little after hearing Petunia's many questions. But thankfully he seemed to understand how woefully unprepared he was for the task of introducing a family to the magical world. "I guess you're right, I can't really help you with any of that."
Petunia smiled at him. "Maybe you could fetch the deputy headmistress – McGonagall, I think her name was – Lily always spoke well of her."
"Yeah, I can do that." Hagrid nodded his giant head rapidly.
While on his way out of the house, Hagrid started blushing again when he paused at the front door. "Sorry about the door." He mumbled, "I thought you might have been keeping Harry from his letters." He finished awkwardly.
"Oh, it's all right, I'll fix it." With a snap of his fingers, Harry had the door and frame back in perfect condition.
"That's a neat little trick you've got there, best not show it to any Muggles though. The ministry is pretty hard on those who expose our world." Hagrid chuckled, "Well I'll… I'll see you at Hogwarts then Harry." He patted Harry gently on the shoulder. Gently for a giant, which meant that Harry as a normal person almost fell over.
When Hagrid was halfway out the door he turned around and gave a final wave goodbye.
Petunia picked that moment to gently admonish Hagrid one final time. "We'll be expecting Professor McGonagall at noon Hagrid, not a moment before."
After getting a few more hours of sleep, they ate an early lunch and were all seated in the living room waiting for Professor McGonagall. At precisely twelve o'clock there was a single knock on the front door.
"At least she's on time," Vernon grumbled as he left to let the professor in.
A few moments later he escorted an elderly woman into the room. She was tall and thin with her black hair up in a bun, and on her face was a pair of glasses and a severe expression. While she might have tried to blend in by wearing muggle clothes, the clothes she was wearing looked like something from the forties.
"Hello all," she greeted after Vernon had guided her into an armchair. "My name is Minerva McGonagall, I am the deputy headmistress, Professor of Transfiguration, and head of Gryffindor house at Hogwarts. Hagrid informed me that my presence was necessary to answer questions you had regarding the magical world." Her voice was prim and proper with little, if any, inflection.
Petunia started the conversation with a thank-you. "First, I would like to thank you for being the only voice of reason the night you left Harry on our doorstep, Hagrid told us how you were against the entire thing."
Professor McGonagall smiled a tight little smile. "Yes, I thought the entire idea was quite ridiculous." She chuckled, "Now then – shall we get to your questions?"
"Yes, I suppose we better get started. This might take a while." Petunia grinned as she brought out their pre-written list. "First, we would like an extensive overview of all your classes, and what value they provide for Harry's future job opportunities."
It took quite a while for Professor McGonagall to describe all the core classes, their uses, and their relevance to future careers. She then went on to explain how the electives were chosen for the third year and finished with her personal recommendations. "— that is why I consider Divination a woolly and completely useless subject for anyone not gifted with the sight."
"Well, I still consider it sketchy that you do not offer any regular classes at your school." Harry's adoptive father interjected.
Professor McGonagall retrieved her wand and held it loosely in her hands. Her mood was pensive as she seemed to formulate the correct way to respond to his words. "Mr Dursley, when you have the power to alter reality at your fingertips, based on imagination and willpower. Many of the subjects at a muggle school become obsolete. We of course expect children to be able to read and write, and know the basics of arithmetic. While some of the entirely magical families teach that to their children at home, I would guess that at least a third of the children at Hogwarts have attended a muggle school."
"The writing of essays at Hogwarts gets progressively more demanding during their seven years of schooling, it teaches them how to properly communicate their thoughts in the written word. If anyone wishes to become better with numbers I would recommend them to choose Arithmancy as one of their electives."
"But the truth is-" she transformed the table in front of the sofa into a lion, "when you can do things like these. It's hard to care about many of the mundane subjects." With a twitch of her wand, the lion turned into a teacup and then into their table again.
"We magical folk can travel the entirety of the world in minutes, we can fly with brooms or carpets, why would we need to learn about aeroplanes or how they work? There are very few subjects where what your muggle sciences can do surpass what I can do with my wand. With a potion, I can regrow every bone in your body, and cure almost any ailment or illness. There have of course been things of yours we have adopted, such as the printing press, or trains and cars. There certainly will be many more in the future, but the wizarding world is slow to change."
"It certainly doesn't help that many magical people live twice or thrice as long as non-magical do, for example, the headmaster before Albus Dumbledore, his name is Armando Dippet. He was born in the early sixteen hundreds and is still alive today, he's three hundred and fifty-something years old. A person like that is set in their ways and still wields a considerable amount of influence in our very close-knit society."
"Using Albus as another example, he was born eighteen hundred and eighty-one. He's celebrating his one-hundred-and-tenth birthday next month and he's still in his magical prime, the man could easily live another hundred years."
Minerva took a deep breath. "I apologize for my long monologue but I hope this gives you some insight into how our world operates compared to yours, and why."
Petunia and Vernon looked somewhat shell-shocked after her long explanation. "I see… That does make a lot of sense," Vernon responded in a quiet voice. "Shall we take a break for some tea and biscuits before the next question?"
Some fifteen minutes later they were all a little bit more refreshed and composed. Tea in hand and biscuits in their stomachs. Dudley had asked to be excused so he could play video games in his room. Their parents had allowed it, with the caveat that he would have to listen to an abridged version later at dinner.
"By the sound of it, I would guess you have given that speech quite a few times," Petunia said questioningly.
Minerva chuckled. "Yes, I've had to convince quite a few unenthusiastic parents over the years to allow their children to attend Hogwarts."
"Well then, next question." Petunia started. "I heard from Lily years ago, and again from that Hagrid fellow yesterday about how seriously you take your secrecy laws. How come we got bombarded with letters if that is the case, we got over a hundred while we were staying at a hotel for Christ's sake."
The professor's eyes widened when she heard that. "We might have to call the obliviators if that is the case. Do you think it went so far as to expose our world?"
"No, I don't think it went that far." Petunia hastily replied.
Professor McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief at that. "That's good… Well to answer your question. They will not stop being sent until the letter is read by the child it's addressed to, it's all charmed to happen automatically. It's set up that way to ensure that all magical children are at least informed about their choices. If you got all the letters why didn't you just open them?" At her question, she turned towards Harry.
Harry fidgeted awkwardly. "Well… Mum wasn't very happy when the letter came, so we were talking it over, Dudley and dad opened the letter and read it to us. I've always known that my Hogwarts invitation was going to come, and after mum confirmed that it was basically the same as, you know, my biological mother's letter. It didn't interest me very much."
"That is something we'll have to rectify then," Professor McGonagall reached into her robes and retrieved another Hogwarts letter and handed it to him. "Open it, then the magic will register that it has reached its intended recipient."
Quickly sliding a finger under the edge and opening the letter, Harry skimmed the first lines. Everything was the same as in his memories and also as Dudley had described it. "That's the letter situation taken care of at least," Harry grumbled lightly.
Vernon clapped his hands together loudly. "Fantastic, we got that solved. Now the next question, even if Harry had opened the letter, how were we supposed to send a reply? We've got no bloody magical post owl here, and we have no idea where we could be expected to find one either." It would seem that despite Petunia's best efforts to calm him, Vernon was not going to allow their – in his mind – disrespect towards his son, to stand.
The tips of Minerva McGonagall's ears reddened slightly and she fiddled with the wand in her hands. "Yes, well… You see." She coughed lightly into her hand. "That might have been an oversight on our part. It is extremely rare that a child from a magical family is raised with a non-magical family. It is something that we forgot to take into consideration when you were placed here." The professor set her gaze on Petunia, "I would hazard a guess that you don't remember where the entrance to Diagon Alley is?"
Petunia shook her head while snickering quietly. "No, it's been twenty years since I set foot there, the only thing I remember is that it is somewhere in London."
"Yes, definitely an oversight on our part, you have my sincerest apologies. Well – that means I shall have to take your family there myself. I cleared my afternoon for this meeting, we could leave for your shopping after this conversation has wrapped up. Would that suit you?"
Vernon and Petunia had a silent conversation with their eyes, and then Petunia nodded. "Yes, that would work for us."
Professor McGonagall smiled a small smile. "Splendid, shall we move on to your next question then?"
"The next question is a little bit more personal," Petunia began. "Why weren't we invited to the funeral? And where are all Lily and her husband's personal things, such as photo albums or family heirlooms? Harry doesn't even know how his father looked. How has his inheritance been managed? From what Lily told me, the Potter family was very well-off."
Minerva McGonagall seemed to be taken aback by Petunia's numerous questions, it took her quite a while before she managed her response. "To be honest I don't have an answer for most of your questions, only Albus - the headmaster would know all the details." The deputy headmistress' stern visage disappeared and she seemed to shrink in on herself, "The only question I can give you a concrete answer to is regarding the funeral - there was none."
Petunia looked livid when she heard Minerva's answer. "I see your reaction but please let me finish before you leap out of your seat." The professor's rushed words interrupted the incoming tirade. "You need some background information. The man who murdered James and Lily - V-Voldemort." She stuttered when uttering the name. "He and his followers terrorized our society for eleven years on such a scale that still to this very day people are afraid to speak his name. Every week people disappeared or were killed, thousands died, and not a single person in wizarding Britain was unaffected by their cruelty."
"To the best of our knowledge, he came to the Potter's home late in the evening on Halloween nineteen eighty-one. Where somehow, according to Albus, something Lily did – destroyed him – at the cost of her life. The entire day preceding his defeat was non-stop attacks. They attacked St. Mungo's – our hospital, the village outside Hogwarts, our shopping areas, and the personal homes of people who publicly opposed him." Minerva said solemnly.
"As horrible as it sounds, Albus and Hagrid buried them with minimal fanfare in Godric's Hollow because they were just a few out of the many hundreds of casualties that night. It took many months even with our spectacular abilities to repair all the damage from that single night, and even longer for those who survived to heal." Minerva parched her dry throat with a sip of her tea. "That's without even speaking about how long it took to get our government back into running order, or the hundreds of trials. Funerals were a luxury we couldn't afford at the time." At the end of her explanation Minerva was dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief.
Harry, who was seated next to her, reached over and gently patted her arm. "That sounds truly horrible and I think we all can accept the special circumstances, and the incredible pressure you all were put under." Harry glanced towards his mother and she seemed to understand the meaning in his eyes.
Petunia immediately tried to move the conversation along. "What about their personal possessions, and his inheritance?"
Minerva looked at them thankfully at the change of topic. "As I said I have no concrete information regarding that, but if I were to guess, I would think that Albus placed them in their Gringotts vault, Gringotts is the wizarding bank in Britain. Concerning his inheritance, if Albus did the intelligent thing, he acquired the services of a Gringotts goblin to manage the economics for him. There are few beings as financially scrupulous as goblins."
"It seems that I once again need to apologize, it didn't occur to me that you wouldn't have any pictures of James. I have a few pictures of them, including one of them at their wedding. I will make a copy of every picture I have with them in it and hand them to you when you arrive at Hogwarts." As she finished her sentence she gently took Harry's hands in her own and squeezed lightly.
"From the way you speak about them, it sounds like you knew them very well. Could you tell me about them? I don't have any memories of them and mum could only tell me about my birth mother's life in the normal world." He asked Professor McGonagall excitedly.
"Oh, the stories I could tell you." Minerva's eyes glittered with mirth. "They're too numerous for a single afternoon, it would take weeks if not months. How about I tell you what happened their first week at school, and when you start at Hogwarts we could have afternoon tea and I'll tell you the rest?"
"That sounds wonderful, thank you very much, Professor." He responded gratefully.
Professor McGonagall leaned back in the armchair and got a faraway look in her eyes. "Your father and his three closest friends were proper miscreants at school. They called themselves 'The Marauders' and they committed a litany of pranks during their seven years of schooling. James later told me that they met on the train-"
For Harry who had never known the Potters, it was quite interesting listening to someone who had been so involved in their formative years. Minerva had described their first week at Hogwarts and their first attempts at pranking. She explained that his father had been infatuated with his mother from the moment he had first laid eyes upon her. His attempts at wooing her had started their first week and didn't stop until their seventh year when she finally agreed to go out with him.
When the story was wrapped up Dudley had been called down and Minerva had bid them exit out into the backyard where she'd cast a short-time notice-me-not spell. Then she bespelled a quill from one of her pockets into a Portkey and ordered everyone to grab a hold.
The books and movies from his previous life didn't do the unpleasant feeling of a Portkey justice. It was absolutely unfathomably horrible, the best thing he could liken it to was being put inside a washing machine cranked up to eleven, and then that washing machine was flung ten thousand feet up into the air. While this was going on you had a hook in your navel that had its other side hooked into the washing machine.
They were deposited in a filthy alley whereupon everyone fell to their knees except for the deputy headmistress. She only chuckled at their misery, before helping them up, and with a swish of her wand, she had straightened out and cleaned their clothes. "Now, before we enter there is one more thing I need to tell you."
Harry had a foreboding feeling that his worst fears were going to come true. "You're quite famous in the wizarding world Harry. Even though Albus tried his best to tell anyone who would listen that it was your mother's doing, you were credited with the destruction of Voldemort. You are also famous for being the only one who ever survived the killing curse." She paused and began awkwardly fiddling with her fingers. "To the British magical world, you are a hero Harry."
Harry cringed at that, oh how he had hoped that this wouldn't be the case when he found out that he didn't have the lightning-bolt-shaped scar.
His musings were interrupted when Professor McGonagall continued. "There have been a number of sensationalized books written about you, and they've dubbed you 'The Boy Who Lived'. However we are in luck, you lack both the glasses and the prominent scar you have been described as having. I will address you as Mr Dursley if that is all right?" Harry agreed quickly. "Then we shouldn't draw much attention to ourselves, it's quite normal for me to bring Muggle families for orientation after all. Come along now."
They hurried to catch up to the professor whose long strides had already brought her to the end of the alley. After they followed her out onto the street they took a left and ended up in front of a dingy pub with a sign that read 'Leaky Cauldron'. "I know this looks like a broken-down shop to everyone but Harry and me, that is just an enchantment to keep our secrecy. You'll notice the difference as soon as you step inside."
The pub wasn't even half filled and no one seemed to pay very much attention to them, though Harry thought he spotted a sneer or two from one of the tables. Professor McGonagall got a cheery greeting from the man behind the bar, whom Harry suspected was Tom, but nothing else of note happened. A few moments later they had exited through the back door out to a small courtyard where Minerva instructed Harry to remember a particular brick, then she tapped it with her wand whereupon the wall started separating into an archway.
Professor McGonagall swept her hand grandiosely in front of them. "Welcome to Diagon Alley."
Their first stop had been Gringotts, located on the opposite end of the alley in the gigantic white marble building. Once inside the building, Minerva handed a key over to Harry and informed him to speak with one of the tellers about his vault. The goblins were surly but not antagonistic or angry, and very efficient. A few seconds later he was waiting in line for a goblin to take him to his vault.
When Professor McGonagall had described the Gringotts carts his parents had elected to stay behind, Dudley on the other hand seemed very enthusiastic. So the three of them plus their goblin guide, whose name Harry could not recall, set off at what felt like a million miles an hour down into the dark depths of Gringotts.
Harry and Dudley whooped with glee while riding what felt like the best roller coaster in the world. Their chaperone didn't particularly seem to enjoy it but to the boys' consternation and her relief, the ride didn't last particularly long.
"Vault six hundred and eighty-seven." Their goblin guide barked out. They followed him out of the cart and onto the platform next to the large vault door. "Key, please." This time it was less of a bark and Harry quickly handed over his little golden key.
"Wow!" Dudley exclaimed as the large vault door swung open and they were met with piles upon piles of golden coins.
"Yes, your father's family was quite well-off. Now grab a bag from the hook over there and fill it with coins, I have quite a few purchases to recommend beyond the standard Hogwarts list. If you're wondering what the different currencies are, the gold ones are called galleons, the silver ones are a sickle, and the bronze ones are called a knut." Dudley and Harry nodded along to her explanation. "There are twenty-nine knuts to a sickle and seventeen sickles to a galleon. The conversion rate-" here their goblin guide interrupted, "Is four pounds and ninety-seven pence to the galleon as of this morning."
While the professor had been explaining the currency system of the wizarding world Harry had eyed the rest of the vault. As the explanation came to an end, he spotted a small-ish chest in one corner of the vault. With a twitch of his nose, it started floating towards him.
"How are you doing that?" Minerva gasped.
"He's been able to do that as long as I can remember," Dudley said cheerfully. "You should see the rest of the things he can do, especially when he's trying to learn new spells, it's hilarious. He once tried to feed himself while levitating his knife and fork, they just smeared the food into his face and down his lap. Mum had to ban magic at the dinner table after that."
"B-but how? Wandless magic is definitely not unheard of, most wizards and witches pick up a trick or two during their lifetime. But at your age? The only thing most children can achieve is a few instances of uncontrolled accidental magic." The transfiguration teacher seemed completely lost for words.
Harry grinned at her as he began his tale. "That's how it started for me, I was irritated because Dudders wouldn't stop crying when Mum took his snuggly away. I've always been able to sense the magic inside of me, so after I accidentally did magic, I just worked my hardest to replicate that feeling. I'm really looking forward to Hogwarts where I will be able to openly use my magic, it's been hard holding back in the normal world."
Minerva McGonagall's eyebrows almost disappeared into her hairline after hearing that. "Feeling your magic at your age? That is very advanced Harry, it took me years to reach that point and most magical people never bother. I had no choice but to learn it because I wanted to become an animagus."
That lined up with what he had theorized in his younger years. "Oh, I didn't know that. That is kind of sad though, I love to submerge myself in the feeling of my magic. I do it every night when I go to sleep, it's very peaceful."
She simply shook her head at that, "I believe we have much to talk about during our afternoon teas when you get to Hogwarts. Now hurry along, your parents are waiting for you."
He quickly opened the trunk that he had floated to the ground in front of him. It was expanded on the inside and seemed to contain his parents' personal possessions. There were some clothes, a couple of rings, what looked like a photo album, and best of all – two wands. "Is there a way we could bring this with us?" He asked their chaperone.
Minerva, who had glanced inside at his question nodded quietly. "I'll shrink it for you and then restore it when we are back at your home. Your mother will be happy we found this."
Their trip back to the surface was as exhilarating as it had been on the way down, though Dudley and Harry still lamented that the trip was too quick.
Once they had met up with their parents and they'd been informed about their trip down into the depths of Gringotts, they were on their way to do his school shopping. Petunia, as expected, had been very happy for him when she learned about the chest of his parents' possessions.
Their guide suggested that since the robes took some time to be finished they should make Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions the first stop on their list. They could then pick up the finished package after they had completed the rest of the shopping. Her suggestion was followed without any complaints.
After he had been poked and prodded, and measured from head to toe. Professor McGonagall whisked them away to Slug & Jiggers Apothecary to buy his potion ingredients, one smell of the inside of the shop and his family had deserted him. He didn't begrudge them their escape because the apothecary stank to the high heavens.
"One might think that with magic you could do something about the smell," Harry grumbled as he followed Minerva around while she pointed out important items on the shelves.
Minerva smirked at his irritation before using the moment to start teaching him about the magical world. "There's actually a good reason why they won't. A lot of the ingredients that are handled in the shop are magically sensitive, therefore any good apothecary tries to keep the non-essential magic to a minimum. That's a good lesson to learn, if you enter an apothecary that is completely free of smell, you should be suspicious."
When his potion ingredients had been paid for he was hurried out of the shop. "Come along now, we don't have all day."
Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment was their next stop, where the professor simply approached the young lady behind the cash register and asked for a first-year package with crystal phials. When he asked why she had picked crystal over glass. He'd been informed that even though their price was over double that of the glass ones, their durability was much better, so in the long run, they would save him money.
At the next shop they were in and out so fast that he wasn't even able to read the sign, but he left the shop carrying a pewter cauldron standard size two. The deputy headmistress was a true professional at shopping with overwhelmed families.
After the cauldron shop, they trotted over to Scribbulus Writing Implements, where he had been instructed to stock up on a huge amount of quills, ink, and what felt like half his body weight in parchment.
As they followed along after Professor McGonagall, she started talking about their next stop. "The shop we're going to is run by an old friend of mine. It might look unsightly, but his cleaning skills are unrelated to his enchanting skills. Even though I might not like it, certain things will be different for you, because of your fame. Therefore, I am recommending that you buy one of his enchanted trunks, nothing exotic mind you, just slightly expanded and with some special protections so no one can steal from you."
They approached what looked like a dump, the windows of the shop were filled with dust and broken items. The door was barely hanging on to the hinges, and it creaked horribly when Minerva entered. "Archibald, are you in?"
"It's been a while since I saw you, my dear. How are you?" Answered a raspy voice from the back of the shop.
"I am very well, my friend. Though I'm here on Hogwarts business so I don't have the time to chitchat."
From the back of the shop came a very old man who walked while leaning on a cane. His back was hunched and his long hair was white as snow. "You younglings have no time for us old folks any more." He chuckled.
Minerva laughed at that. "You old flatterer, I'll have you know I'm in my seventies now. "
The man named Archibald raised an eyebrow, "And I'm thrice your age, dear Minerva. To me, you will always be a whippersnapper." They shared a chuckle. "So, what can I help you with today?"
"Young Harry here needs an expanded trunk with security measures. We're also interested in a mokeskin pouch if you've managed to acquire any lately."
"Hoh, a mokeskin pouch, that will cost you a pretty galleon. But you're in luck, I have a few in the back, and an enchanted trunk you said? For young Harry… That wouldn't happen to be Harry Potter would it?" He peered intently at Harry's face. "With that hair, you can't be anything but a Potter. Do you know that your grandfather invented a potion specifically to deal with the Potter hair?" Archibald barked out a laugh at his own words. "Pay me for the pouch and I'll throw in the trunk for free, least I can do for you, Mr Potter."
Thanking the man for the great offer, Harry hefted out a good chunk of his remaining galleons and paid him. Archibald then disappeared out into the back for a few moments before he returned with a trunk floating in front of him. "Here, a few drops of blood on the lock and this trunk will only ever open for you and those you want it to. A sufficiently strong wizard or witch could always force it open, but it will take time, and then you'll at least know that someone has broken in. Pack your things into it while I fetch your mokeskin pouch."
The professor helped him slice his thumb open and then healed it again after he had smeared his blood on the lock. He'd managed to fit all his purchases into the expanded space, and barely a fraction of the trunk was filled. Harry was very thankful that Professor McGonagall had managed to get him this trunk, and he said so, it would be a massive help in the future.
Archibald had returned while Harry was packing. "Here boy, catch." Harry caught the small item with his magic and floated it down into his hand. "When you tie that around your neck, put all your most precious items into it. It's expanded on the inside, but its most coveted feature is that no one but the owner – in this case you – can remove the items stored inside."
Harry thanked the man and Minerva said her goodbyes, then they set out for the shop Harry had been looking forward to all day – Ollivanders. Outside the shop, Minerva excused herself by saying that finding a wand was a highly personal thing and promised that she would be back before they were finished.
The bell by the door jingled as they entered the dusty and dusky shop. When no one made themselves available to them, Harry approached the front desk.
"Harry Potter." Even though Harry had been prepared for it, he still almost jumped out of his skin. Petunia squealed and his father and Dudley had fallen out of their chairs by the sound of it. The white-haired man with his silver eyes had appeared out of nowhere.
"I remember it like it was yesterday when your father and mother came here, and I sold them their wands. Your father favoured a wand that was excellent for Transfiguration, and your mother favoured a swishy wand of willow that was excellent for charm work. I say that they favoured, but the truth is: it's the wand that chooses the wizard." His raspy voice whispered out. This man loved his theatrics too much for Harry's liking.
"I actually have their wands with me, sir," Harry said quietly.
Ollivander peered down at him, "They will of course never work as well for you as they did for your parents but take good care of them and they may aid you if you ever have need of them." The man turned around and started rooting around in his stacks of boxes, "Well, shall we find your companion Mr Potter?"
After being asked his wand arm, then measured for the second time that day, and asked a series of nonsensical questions, the old wandmaker began handing him wands.
The first wand Ollivander handed him did nothing at all, the second set fire to the drapes. Ollivander lazily waved his own wand and righted them. Number seven stung him badly enough that he dropped it, and wand number eleven turned Ollivander's hair green. His family oohed and aahed at the right moments, except for Dudley, who mostly laughed.
Boxes of wands littered the entire front desk, and he felt like he had tried half the shop by this point. Ollivander had disappeared among the shelves in search of the next wand to try some time ago, and came around the corner, box in hand and muttering to himself. He opened the box and inside lay a beautiful masterpiece of a wand. It looked like two slightly different coloured branches had fused together into one, it was also the longest wand he had seen so far.
"Willow and unicorn hair, twelve inches and three quarters, unyielding."
Harry took the wand into his hand, and suddenly he was no longer in the dusty old shop, he was floating in his sea of magic. He could feel how the wand connected to his very essence, this feeling was beyond words, he was certain that this was his wand. As soon as the feeling had begun it ended and he was back in Ollivander's shop.
Ollivander looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "I'll be expecting great things from you, Mr Potter. It's been quite some time since I've seen a bonding like that. A protector's wand, with loyalty and family above all. Oh, I fear for our world if they are ever taken from you. Yes, great things indeed." The old wandmaker proclaimed ominously, then with a blink of his silver eyes, his demeanour did a complete turn-about." That will be seven galleons please."
As he paid Ollivander for the wand and a polishing kit, his family gathered around to have a look at his new wand, they congratulated him and Vernon patted him on the back. When they were exiting the shop, Minerva McGonagall was waiting outside for them and she wasn't alone. In one hand she was carrying a cage containing a regal snow-white owl.
She smiled slightly when they neared her. "Well that certainly took its time, how did it go?"
"Harry blew up half the shop before he got his wand." Dudley snickered.
"That sometimes happens." She handed the owl cage to Harry, "Happy belated birthday. It's also my way of apologizing for the problems you had with finding a, to quote your father: 'bloody magical post owl'. Vernon laughed heartily at her comment.
This had to be the one and only, the queen of the skies, the benevolent – Hedwig. Harry had a mental nerd out. "Oh aren't you the most beautiful animal I have ever seen! You and I are going to be the best of friends." The owl trilled happily at him, he poked a finger into the cage and gently scratched her head. She leaned into his touch and then gently nipped at his finger, she was perfect.
"I'm going to wait until we get home before I name you, is that okay?" His family looked at him strangely when he spoke to the yet-to-be-named Hedwig. But she bobbed her head in the affirmative, and he enjoyed the astonished looks on his parents' faces. "You're so intelligent, just like Minerva." Harry cooed at her, then he scratched her head again as an excuse to look away from the Transfiguration teacher who spluttered at his words.
"I don't know if I'm supposed to feel complimented or insulted, Mr Potter." Minerva glared at him.
Petunia tried to hide her grin with her hand as she righted the misunderstanding. "Harry and Dudley each have a cat and they are uncommonly smart for animals. Harry says they are magical, in the sense that they have literal magic in them and that's why they are so so intelligent. Dudley's is named Paws and Harry named his Minerva after the Roman goddess of wisdom."
"Magical you say?" Minerva hummed thoughtfully as she looked at Harry.
"Uh-huh, they feel different from the other cats in the neighbourhood, it's hard to describe." Harry of course knew they were Kneazles, but he wasn't supposed to know that. "Except for their mother and Mrs Figg's other cats, they also feel magical."
If Harry hadn't been looking for it he would never have noticed the minute widening of Professor McGonagall's eyes at the mention of Mrs Figg's name.
"Your cats might be Kneazles or part Kneazle, they are a magical species of cat. The only real difference between them and regular cats is that they can grow larger and they have near human intelligence. Because they are so similar they are no threat to the statute of secrecy and are therefore not policed by the Ministry of Magic. It wouldn't surprise me if a large number of them lived unnoticed in the muggle world." The professor explained to Harry's family.
"That's great, then there'll be no issue if I bring Minerva with me to Hogwarts," Harry said happily.
"Except it said in your letter that you're only allowed to bring one pet with you." Dudley corrected him.
Harry looked to Minerva, who nodded and then put a finger to her lips. "I'll tell you a secret. No one has ever enforced that rule to the best of my knowledge."
Minerva smiled a small smile and her eyes sparkled with mirth. "It's time for the last stop of the day, and after conversing with you I fear it will take us hours to get out of there - Flourish and Blotts." Everyone but Harry looked at her inquisitively. "It is the best bookshop in Britain, only some of the older families might be able to compete with their collection, and Hogwarts of course. Hogwarts sports the biggest public magical library in all of Europe." There was clear pride in her voice towards the end.
Upon entering the bookshop Minerva quickly collected all the books on his Hogwarts list, before she began making her personal recommendations for further purchase. She recommended that he purchase all the books he would need for his seven years at Hogwarts. Or at least the ones that had stayed the same for the last couple of years, such as all the grades of 'The Standard Book of Spells'.
Furthermore, she recommended he purchase additional reading material for Potions and History of Magic. "I do not wish to prejudice you, but I must warn you that Severus Snape and Cuthbert Binns are not the greatest teachers that have ever worked at Hogwarts. So diligent self-study will be your greatest ally where these subjects are concerned."
Next, she handed him two books. "I also recommend these two, one is an introduction to Ancient Runes and the other a primer on Arithmancy. Considering your love of animals I have no doubt that you're going to choose Care of Magical Creatures as one of your electives. If you at least skim through both of these books you will know what other electives will suit you. You of course don't need Muggle Studies and I don't think you have the sight."
Harry chuckled at her obvious disdain towards Divination. "That sounds like a solid plan. Could you point me in the direction of a beginner's guide on how to enchant objects? It's something that has always fascinated me, but I've never been able to make any progress at it."
Professor McGonagall looked at him with a melancholy expression. "You remind me so much of your parents, Harry." She squeezed his shoulder gently. "Enchantments are not my forte, but I have heard enough from Albus and Filius' discussions over the years to know a thing or two."
"The first thing you need to know about enchantments is that there are two general fields – Warding and Enchanting. Warding is the act of putting up protective enchantments around something, such as your home or business. Hogwarts as an example has the strongest wards of any building in Britain, it has taken centuries of incredibly powerful wizards and witches to make them what they are today."
"Enchanting, on the other hand, is the act of altering or enhancing the function of an object. For example, the Hogwarts Express, it's the train that you will ride to Hogwarts. It has been enchanted to be much bigger and much faster than the original train, it is also undetectable to non-magical people after it leaves the station. Therefore, the original function of the train has been enhanced."
"A broomstick's natural function is to sweep dust and dirt. However, wizards and witches for the last thousand years have used them to fly. That is an example of an enchantment that alters the original function of an item."
"There are of course exceptions to these rules, or items that fall within both or neither. But these are the general terms magical people use when they are discussing enchantments. Are you with me so far?" Minerva asked him.
Harry nodded as he responded. "Yes, that seems perfectly reasonable."
Minerva looked at him intently, as if to discern the sincerity of his statement. "Good, because now comes the more esoterical part of enchantments, and this is where it gets difficult. The first thing to know is that every enchanter does their work differently because enchanting is more of an art than a science. That means there is no step-by-step guide to enchant an item in a specific way."
He nodded at that, this sounded really fun and exciting.
She continued, "Think of it in terms of painting, the item or area you wish to enchant is your canvas, your wand is your brush, and your magic is your paint. This means that if I were to teach you how to enchant a self-stirring-cauldron, we would both start with a cauldron and a ladle, completely identical items, and the final product would still differ greatly."
"Our brushes and our ink will always differ, since no two wands are the same, and no two people have identical magic. So even if you were to perfectly replicate the movements of my brush on our identical canvases, the final result would never be the same. Therefore, a master of enchanting would not teach you how to enchant an item, they would teach you how to be an enchanter."
Her explanation only made him even more excited, that sounded like something he would enjoy immensely.
"After all that, is enchanting still something you wish to spend your time learning?" She asked him with one eyebrow pointed to the sky.
Harry nodded his head vigorously. "Most definitely, that sounds like something I would love."
Professor McGonagall seemed pleasantly surprised by his answer. "Then you should take an owl order form from the front before we leave, and I'll ask Filius to prepare a list of suitable books for you to peruse. I'll have it ready by the time you arrive at Hogwarts."
"Thank you very much, Professor McGonagall."
"It was my pleasure, Harry"
He couldn't wait until he got started on the path of enchanting, he had so many ideas and designs floating around in his head. It was too bad that it would have to wait until he got to Hogwarts.
"Harry look at this!" His and Minerva's little moment ended when Dudley hurried around the corner of the shelf they were standing by. "This book has your name on it."
In his hands, Dudley carried a colourful book. On the front of it, emblazoned in large golden text, was the title 'Harry Potter and the Terrible Trolls of Transylvania.' Harry groaned and pushed the palms of his hands against his eyes. "Please tell me these aren't popular." He pleaded with his soon-to-be Transfiguration professor.
The twitching of her lips did nothing to help with his growing horror. "Oh, they're very popular. I would hazard a guess that every child raised in a magical family has read one of them, or had their parents read one to them. Don't worry though, everyone knows that you grew up outside the magical world and that these are just children's stories."
"That's something at least." Harry sighed tiredly.
Vernon's large hand came out of nowhere and snapped the book up. "This can't be legal, can it?" His voice was tinged with anger.
Minerva cringed a little bit. "Unfortunately it is, believe me, Albus tried his hardest. But there is a disclaimer somewhere in the book that states something along the lines of 'This is written without the permission of Harry Potter, these are not real stories but purely for entertainment purposes'."
Anger oozed out of Vernon. "They're exploiting my son! Any lawyer worth their salt would win this case based on-"
"Laws that don't work the same way as in your world. Ours are much smaller in scope and closer to the original laws of Britain. This is another of those areas where our world is slow to change, it could take over a decade of arguments and research before even the smallest of laws get amended or changed in the Wizengamot - the governing body of Magical Britain." Professor McGonagall's words stopped his tirade.
"Vernon, what's going on? I heard your voice from the other end of the store." Petunia questioned as she came around the same bookshelf Dudley had.
As Vernon described the situation to his newly arrived wife he seemed to grow angrier by the minute, and Petunia tried her best to calm him down. They were beginning to attract too much attention for Harry's taste. "Please dad, just let it be, there's nothing we can do."
Upon hearing his son's words Vernon seemed to deflate. "Fine. But if we ever meet the pillock who wrote this shite, I reserve the right to clobber their face."
Harry grinned cheekily at his adoptive father. "You clobber someone? You couldn't hurt a fly even if you tried."
"Why you little!" Vernon grumbled with mock outrage, his earlier anger already forgotten.
Petunia laughed lightly. "Now that's settled," she turned to Harry, "could I borrow a few of your coins? I found this great book on gardening." With one of her hands, she displayed a book. "But we didn't think to exchange any money when we were at the bank earlier."
"Of course, just put it with the others."
The remainder of their time in Diagon Alley that afternoon passed without any further excitement. After paying for the literal mountain of books and packing them into his newly acquired trunk. Professor McGonagall had led them back to the Leaky Cauldron, out through the front door and into the normal world.
"Now that you have your wand, I can teach you the simplest way to get around in the magical world before you get your licence to apparate. Apparition is near instantaneous teleportation, it is the most convenient way to travel when alone." Minerva extricated her wand from an inside pocket in her robe and pointed it out into the street. "Just hold your wand out into the streets and they'll be here soon." Moments later, with a very loud bang, a purple triple-decker bus appeared out of nowhere on the street in front of them.
At the front entrance of the bus stood a freckled teen. "Welcome to the Knight Bus, emergency-" he began before Professor McGonagall interrupted him.
"There will be no need for your usual introductions, Mr Shunpike."
He looked startled upon being interrupted. "Oh, hello there Professor, haven't seen you using the Knight Bus before."
"While I'm very happy that you've got yourself a job over the summer, I am in the middle of doing introductions and we have places to be."
Stanley Shunpike blushed as he hurriedly moved aside to let them on. "One, two, three, four. Five of you eh, that'll be fifty-five sickles." Harry quickly handed over three galleons and four sickles while the rest of their party took their seats. When Minerva tried to pay him back for the fare, he quickly declined and pointed towards the owl she had purchased for him.
"Introducing a couple of muggle-borns, huh?" Stanley asked the obvious. "Where will you be wanting to go then?"
"Privet Drive in Surrey." Minerva's answer came promptly.
The young conductor turned his head around and shouted to the front. "Did you hear that, Ernie? Privet Drive in Surrey."
With a bang, they were off.
Because they were the only people on the bus, it didn't take many minutes before they came to an instantaneous stop. Luckily Professor McGonagall had warned them to hold onto their seats. He and Dudley, contrary to the adults of their party, had greatly enjoyed the nauseating trip.
When they were standing at the end of Privet Drive, and the Knight Bus with another bang had disappeared. Minerva McGonagall handed a slip of paper to Harry. "This here Harry is your ticket to the Hogwarts Express. To reach platform nine and three-quarters where you will board the train, you have to walk straight into the barrier that separates platforms nine and ten." Her gaze moved from Harry to his parents. "You should arrive at least an hour early so that if you're insecure or worried, you can look for another family to help you."
"Thank you, we'll remember that," Vernon responded.
Minerva McGonagall smiled a sad little smile towards Harry. "I think that's everything then." She squeezed his shoulder. "If you have any questions, just send me a letter."
Only one chapter this week, I hope the length makes up for it. It's a little over eleven thousand words long because I couldn't find a good place to split it in two.
Have any of you played Hogwarts Legacy? If so, did you like it? I'm cautiously optimistic about it, give me a score of 1-10 in your review. I won't be able to play it for a while, so no spoilers, please.
If you liked it, review & favourite.
Thank you for reading!