All in all, it was a cheery mood in the Leaky Cauldron. Patrons cheered and sloshed mugs of frothy liquid. Harry couldn't quite place a reason as to why they were so happy at the moment. He did appreciate the audience profile this evening though.

The pub had opened for the lunch crowd and to Harry's pleasant surprise, familiar faces had begun flocking in. The regulars of the Cauldron; the market vendors; and the shop owners around Diagon Alley were there. Almost everyone in Diagon Alley had closed up shop for the day and gathered in the old bar. Tom had given him a week off, but Harry had still insisted on helping in the kitchen. With enough pestering, Tom had relented on letting Harry at least help in preparing vegetables and meats with the various knives in the kitchen but still strictly forbade Harry from anything with heating.

Tom had to all but drag him out of the kitchen to get him to join the guests outside. Harry insisted on finishing the mise en place. "Half a carrot left!" he cried out. It fell on deaf ears.

He found his seat at a table with Giselle, the friendly butcher, as she broke the ice and spoke with the boy. Harry appreciated the company. He didn't know why Tom had been so insistent that he sit outside with the guests today. In all honesty, the social atmosphere was getting claustrophobic for the otherwise introverted boy. He was mid-way through a conversation with Giselle when he heard a raucous applause. He turned to where everyone was looking and spotted Tom leaving the kitchen with a rather large cake in hands. It had simple white and blue icing. Nothing very elaborate, but it certainly looked large enough to feed a party.

Tom spotted his gaze and grinned.

"Happy Birthday Harry!" He shouted across the pub.

Harry's eyes widened in shock. He'd totally forgotten that it was his tenth birthday. Harry's heart warmed when he realised that Tom had remembered the day. He looked around.

'...Then they must be here for…'

The Leaky Cauldron erupted into birthday wishes for Harry. The guests clapped, cheered and whistled as they patted Harry on the back. Harry was taken aback. He had never had a birthday celebration before. Certainly he'd never have thought he'd have one on this scale. He felt the tears well up in his eyes but rubbed them away with the sleeve of his shirt as he responded with sincere thanks and a wide smile to the patrons of the bar.

Tom grunted as he set the cake down on a table in the middle of the pub. He feigned wiping away some imaginary exhaustive sweat, releasing an exaggerated "Phew".

"Come 'ere Harry!" Tom gestured with his hand.

He pulled out a wand tucked into his belt and tapped it on the candles. The wicks burst into fiery life. A total of ten candles were now lit. Wax melted and flames danced in the reflections on Harry's glasses. He felt a warm hand grasp his shoulder.

Tom bent down with a smile, "Make a wish Harry!"

Harry swallowed and shut his eyes. Thoughts swirled in his head like a whirlwind. He'd been assigned an impossible task of settling on a single wish. How could he? He had numerous; he wanted Mr. Tom to live a long and healthy life by giving up smoking; he wanted Ms. Giselle to finally get her hands on a manticore to butcher as she always wanted; he wanted all the town's folk to continue living their peaceful and happy lives; he wanted his friends to be happy and joyful. Too many to pick from. He chose to condense it all down to a line.

'I wish this'll go on forever…'

The small bespectacled boy took a mighty deep breath of air, and blew with all his strength. Like the dragons he read about in his stories, he swept his breath from one end of the candles to the other. The orange flames extinguished one by one. The crowd let a wild cheer loose again.

"Close your eyes Harry. This is a surprise!" Giselle clapped her hands onto Harry's shoulders and grinned. Harry hurriedly shut his eyes. He thought he heard someone murmur for Mr. Tom to hurry up.

At first he wondered what was going on, but he felt something be placed in his grasp. He held it, trying to decipher what it was without his sight. It was certainly long. At least the length of both his hands away from each other. It was solid too. He felt the texture of wood. The excitement was overwhelming. He snuck a peek.

He was holding on to a wooden rod. The end of which was covered in a brown wrapping paper and white string. The handle was nicely lacquered and polished, a deep oak brown. It offered a strong grip without the worry of splinters. Instinctively, he knew what it was. He'd just ridden one a week or two prior.

"Enjoy your first broomstick Harry!" Tom all but yelled as he pulled off the wrapping paper on the end of the broom, revealing a bushel of fine black hairs held in place by a silver inlay. The pedals were also polished silver.

Ear to ear, a smile spread across Harry's face. It was the first birthday present of Harry's that was meant with all sincerity that he knew of. He'd received trinkets of pity in the past but never once out of a sincere desire to please the boy.

"We all got together and chipped in a little bit to ask old for a good broom for you," explained Tom.

A short but stout man with a comically large mustache and gray flatcap cleared his throat, "Happy birthday Harry. I hope you enjoy the broom. As you might know, proper broom parts are still pretty scarce since the materials are being used for rebuilding instead… I put together this broom with some of the parts I had on hand, and a base model. It's an entirely unique broom I must say. Won't find it in a store window anywhere I'll tell you that much."

Reginald Faust gave a hearty laugh and took a sip of the cold ale in his mug,

"Thank you so much Mr. Faust! I'll use it well!"

"Bah! It's not me to thank Harry. It's them," Faust gestured to the crowd.

Harry gave a small nod before turning back to the crowd, "Thank you everyone!"

Everyone smiled and cheered again before the conversations they were having previously started to take place again. Lunch break didn't last forever after all.

He was pulled to the side by Tom and Giselle, both with eager looks on their faces as they pushed Harry up the stairs and waited outside of Harry's room.

"Mr. Tom…? What's going on?" Harry asked.

"Well, Giselle and I wanted to get you something special too. A gift, from just the two of us. Now that you have friends and all, I thought it would be great if you could keep in contact with them," Tom smiled.

"That being said, she's a feisty one… Take good care of her now Harry," Giselle added before swinging his room door open.

The interior was just as he had left it, sans one important edition. Hanging close by his window was a bronze birdcage. And in it, sat a beautiful small snowy white owl.

Hoot!

It turned to look at Harry and squawked a little. Harry couldn't believe his eyes.

"She's beautiful!" Harry remarked, rushing over to the cage.

Tom looked at Giselle and smiled before looking back at Harry. The boy had stuck his hand into the cage to pet the owl. The bird gave small nips at the boy's finger but otherwise relished the attention.

"Give her a name, boy. Remember, it's still a 'she'."

Harry looked at the little snowy owl in the cage and pondered to himself. He'd seen the name occasionally in a book he had before he arrived in Diagon Alley. For some reason, it seemed to fit the little bird rather well.

"Hedwig. Her name's Hedwig," Harry declared with a cheeky smile. Hedwig seemed to agree. She chirped a little and ruffled her feathers as she nipped at Harry's fingers.

He turned to the two of them, and sprinted at the two. He pulled them in for a hug at waist height. Giselle smiled and bent down to reciprocate the hug. Tom just laughed and messed up Harry's already shaggy bundle of black hair.

Tom's wand gave a small chime, giving a shock to all three of them. Hedwig too as she turned her head sharply towards the alarm.

"Seems like we have a visitor from the Floo…" Tom said as he looked at his wand.

"Harry! You in here mate?!" they heard a familiar voice call out from the pub area below.

Harry smirked, "No prizes for guessing who that is"

Harry made his way down with Tom and Giselle. They spotted a kid walking out of the fireplace with a package under his arm.

The tall-for-his-age redhead brushed some blackish green soot off his shoulders and pants before greeting Harry with a smile.

"Happy Birthday mate! I heard from mum, who heard from Mrs. Lauch, who heard from Ms. Giselle, who heard from Tom that today's your big day! I got ya this!" Arthur stuck out a shoddily wrapped present.

The wrapping paper was rather crumpled and the string was tied into a simple deadknot rather than anything fancy. Harry supposed Arthur wasn't very adept at handicrafts.

"Thanks Arthur, you really didn't have to," Harry received the gift with gratitude.

Arthur looked at Harry expectedly, nodding his head at the present, "Go on mate, open it!"

Harry shook his head. Only Arthur would recommend performing a social faux pas despite being the giver. Harry dug into the wrapping paper and ripped it open. He felt soft fabric within. He grabbed onto a chunk of it and pulled it out of the paper.

It was a brilliant orange scarf. The fabric was dyed a vibrant and deep orange with the letterings and logo stitched in gold; it spelt out, "Chudley Cannons."

Harry laughed and wrapped it around his neck, "Trying to get me on the same team Arthur?"

Arthur chuckled and slung an arm around Harry's shoulders, "Can't be friends if you're not!"

"It's a lovely scarf Arthur," Harry commented.

"Lovely team too…" Arthur pulled Harry in for a whispering conversation, "...You've got a knack for a broom Harry, you're going to be great at quidditch! Trust me!"

Harry whispered back, "I don't even know the rules Arthur!"

"Not a problem! They teach you that stuff day one!"

Harry shuffled uneasily. Arthur spotted it.

"Listen Harry, you like riding the broom don't you? It'll be fun. Just imagine, you and me, on the Gryffindor quidditch team, winners of the House Cup! We'll be treated like kings!" Arthur cast his hand out at the horizon, attempting to persuade Harry.

"There's no guarantee I'll even be good at it Arthur…"

"Just try it out at least. Promise me you'll come to the try-outs with me Harry," Arthur looked at Harry sincerely.

Harry sighed in defeat, "Alright… I'll go to the quidditch trials with you in school."

Arthur pumped a hand in the air, "Wooh! I knew you'd be on board, Harry. We'll be quidditch stars in no time!"

He looked around at the guests and found himself surprised, he pulled Harry into another whisper.

"Bellatrix isn't here?" Arthur asked.

Harry cocked his head questioningly, "No? Why should she be?"

Arthur looked at him like he was stupid, "Aren't you two buddy buddy? I figured she'd be here given that its your birthday and what not."

"We're not 'buddy buddy'. I'm not even sure if she considers us friends, although she is a nice girl… If it were up to me I'd say she's my friend but I don't want to overstep any boundaries. I might just be the only one willing to chase after her in Aurors and Acolytes after all…" Harry deadpanned.

"Ah well. It's alright Harry, your old buddy Arthur will keep you company!"

"Oh great, how wonderful…" Harry said sarcastically.

"Hey! I'll strangle you with that scarf!"

"On second thought, the potions club might be a better choice than the quidditch team…" Harry feigned contemplation.

Arthur gave a disgusted face, "No friend of mine is joining that pile of greasy bookworms. Maybe I should get your behind on a broom so you can reconsider?"

Arthur picked up a benign cleaning broom from a nearby corner of the pub and brandished it like a baseball bat threateningly.

Harry bolted and Arthur gave chase. Arthur took a swipe with the broom at Harry's buttocks, missing it just narrowly. A chair clattered at it received the impact of the broom handle.

Harry laughed at Arthur and picked up a chair, turning its legs towards Arthur in a defensive manner.

"Boys! Take the shenanigans outside!" They heard Tom shout from somewhere in the crowd.

Harry stared down with Arthur before dropping the chair and sprinting out of the pub door. Arthur gave chase.

Harry looked back and saw Arthur wind back for a swing. He picked up his pace and pulled his hips forward. What he didn't see was the flying object coming straight at his head.

Bam!

Harry's face collided with a feathery body. As if the pain in his face wasn't enough. Whatever he hit, was clearly angry. It began trying to bash him with its feathery wings. Worst still, Arthur caught up.

Thwack!

"Ouch!"

The broom handle found its mark. Harry jumped at the sting as he rubbed his sore behind. He used a free had to push off the bird that was still viciously trying to attack him. It finally relented, and he spat out a few feathers.

Arthur was laughing his head off. He had to grab onto the broom handle for balance as he hunched over, trying to catch his breath between bursts of giggles.

The bird had calmed down enough for Harry to spot it out of his teary eyes. It was an owl. And a big one at that. A jet black horned owl. Menacing in look and mean in behaviour. It held out a small box and a letter in its talon. It hooted with indignity as if it were looking down on Harry.

Harry nervously peeled the package and message out of its long talons and it took flight. The wind from its take off blew Harry's glasses off kilter.

"Whose owl was that?" Arthur asked as he walked up.

Harry shrugged as he began to open the letter. His eyes widened as he read who was the sender.

To: Harry Potter

Leaky Cauldron.

Happy Birthday Potter.

I hope Mars finds you with this letter. He can be cranky but he's a good owl. I can't leave my room, mum still has me grounded. I convinced Pesty to attach this to Mars for me though, so be grateful. I asked Cissy to help me purchase this when she went out with father earlier so he wouldn't suspect anything, so be grateful to her as well. I expect you to use it well.

Regards,

Your friend,

Bellatrix Black.

"Wow, who would've thought she could be nice…" Arthur commented as he read the message,

"I wonder what this is," Harry looked at the slim package in his hands. It was a thin box with a simple green ribbon.

He pulled the ribbon off and slid the top out.

"Wow…"

"You can say that again…"

It was a quill. Artisinally made with an emerald green feather and silver tip. Snake-like patterns were etched into the handle. It screamed luxury.

"I'll have to write a thank you letter," Harry commented as he admired the craftsmanship of the pen, "How did she even get the money for this…"

"She's a Black. They're loaded. Although I don't think her family's as big as Sirius'," Arthur answered.

"Sirius?" Harry asked.

"Sirius Black. They're cousins. Atleast, according to mum," Arthur said with a shrug.

To: Bellatrix Black

Black Residence, Salazar Boulevard

Dear Bellatrix,

Thank you for wishing me a Happy Birthday. And thank you very much for the quill. I'm using it now to write this letter actually! It just occurred to me that you might be bored grounded at home too, so if you'd like we can be pen pals (owl pals?). Mars was a very nice owl. I think I'm still coughing up some of his feathers. Mr. Tom and Ms. Giselle got me an owl too! She'll be delivering this letter to you. Her name's Hedwig. She's a beauty.

Arthur came by earlier too and got me a scarf of the Chudley Cannons. I haven't watched any quidditch yet but Arthur describes it as a fun sport.

Thanks once again for the letter and the gift Bellatrix. I'm really glad to have you as a friend.

Take care!

Sincerely,

The Auror to your Acolyte,

Harry Potter.

Harry wrapped up his message and set his quill down in the ink. He tied the message to Hedwig's leg and off she went. He still didn't understand how they knew exactly where to go just based off the contents of the message alone but he supposed anything was possible with magic. Mr. Tom had just told him that the owls are born knowing these types of things.

He watched Hedwig disappear into the sky. The white blot eventually fading away into the distance. He smiled as he recounted the day. His first official birthday celebration he could remember. And it was so much fun. He could never thank Mr. Tom and Ms. Giselle enough for what they've done for him.

"What are your thoughts on these developments Albus?" asked a man dressed in regal robes, as he sat in his cushioned chair nursing a cup of warm tea. He was careful not to let his long mustache or beard be wetted by the sugary tea.

The man that sat opposite him, also aged and wise, a beard half the length but eyes twice as sharp answered him, "It's certainly a concern for us, Professor Dippet. If these sorts of things continue, I'm afraid our student body might feel concerned in coming to Hogwarts."

Between the two aged men sat a newspaper. Unlike a normal newspaper, this had moving images. And letters. The press proudly printed, "The Daily Prophet."

The headline in question? "Three more children in St. Mungo's! Bite marks again! Suspected werewolf on the loose? Interview with Head Auror Scrimgeour for more information!"

"I doubt all the recent incidents are completely separate from one another. Werewolf attacks. Arson. Assaults. Reports of dark magic being spotted around various areas. Crime of all sorts have been on the rise. And all of it began spiking a handful of years back. All the suspects involved apart from the werewolves? Muggleborns," Armando Dippet commented as he scanned the headlines of the newspaper once more.

"You believe the Muggleborns are getting belligerent? Or do you think someone is making influencing them to do these?" Albus Dumbledore asked.

"The possibility is high someone is behind it. Everything seems separate enough for the public eye but if you look at it deeply they form a connection. A pattern. I just don't understand why… We're in a period of prosperity. Of progress. Stirring up trouble like this in a period like this… What for? By whom?" Armando admitted.

He looked at Albus with a sad smirk, "You've got a long history with mad men Albus. Any clue about it?"

"Madness often comes as a by-product of ambition, professor," Albus solemnly said as he drank from his cup.

"Let's hope the DMLE are taking this seriously then. I doubt I can handle another incident like the Chamber in my old age now…" Armando rubbed his temples in exasperation. Memories of the harrowing incident came to the forefront of this mind. A fresh, young student with a bright future ahead. Lost forever because someone had opened that cursed chamber that one of the school's founders left behind. He still hadn't found it after all these years. The machinations of the school were beyond him.

"Scrimgeour is certainly a bullish man. He's like a bloodhound when he catches the scent trail of a crime. Unlikeable, but highly reliable," Albus attempted to console the older Armando.

"Bah!" Armando dismissed the statement with a wave of his hand, "One man can only do so much. The whole system's gotten much too slow… Did you know in my time, the constables would hit first and ask questions later? Crime was never lower!"

Albus Dumbledore rose from the leather arm chair as he stood at the window, looking out at the magnificent castle. Hogwarts. The pride of Wizarding Britain.

"Due process exists for good reason Headmaster. We only need to look at our distant neighbours to observe the extreme end of the "hit first and ask questions later" doctrine take place," Albus nursed his cup of tea as he took a sip.

Armando looked off to the side, "I wonder how Fyodor is doing?"

Dumbledore looked over his shoulder at Armando sadly.

Fyodor Yaroslava. Headmaster of the Akademiya Koldovstvo, the premier school for budding wizards and witches in Eastern Europe, situated in the mountains of Lithuania. Also, a close friend of Armando Dippet, Headmaster of Hogwarts. The school had been closed sometime in the war. Fyodor had all but disappeared from the world. No one quite knew where he went or what happened to him. Even with the school reopening, Fyodor was nowhere to be found. Deep down, a gut feeling told everyone who knew him and the time period he disappeared what exactly happened. No one could bring themselves to admit it out loud though.

"I'm sure Headmaster Yaroslava is doing fine, Professor. Probably enjoying his retirement at the sunny beaches of the Pacific," Dumbledore downed his tea.

Armando maintained an eerie silence.

[A/N] A much shorter chapter than usual this time. A bit of fluff and a bit of build up. One more chapter left in the 'prologue' and then Chapter 6 onwards, its the much anticipated Hogwarts. Thank you for reading everyone, we've just crossed 200 favourites and 300 follows. I wouldn't have expected this story to pick up traction this early. Your kind words and encouragements in the reviews have not been lost on me either. I am very grateful to everyone that has left a review to let me know whats going well and anything to improve. Thank you everyone, and take care until the next chapter.