October 12th, 1989

Harry was walking down Privet Drive one evening and thinking of things he needed to do. "First" he thought "I'm running low on funds. Dudders hasn't been able to steal kids lunch money anymore with our class being more closely monitored." Harry internally laughed, "who would have thought me kicking the shit out of Dudders would help my classmates keep their money."

Ever since Dudley had lost that income, he had been watching his own funds much closer. Harry didn't want to raise suspicion and risk a frying pan to the head. Last time he got caught eating food instead of cooking Petunia had taken a swing and nearly hit his head.

"Second, I need to broaden my knowledge. I'm 9 now and if I ever want to get away from the Dursleys I'll need to do better in school." Harry wasn't dumb, he actually had to work pretty hard at coming off subpar. Dudley would complain if Harry did better on tests and would claim that he cheated. The problem is Dudley was no mental giant. To be more specific Dudley was 1 IQ point above having an intellectual disability. Well, that was in Harry's estimation. He knew he was biased.

Harry decided that once the winter semester hit, he would stop holding back. To hell with the Dursleys.

"Lastly, I need to start experimenting with this weird power thing I have. For Christ's sake I fell out of a tree yesterday and bounced. What kind of person bounces after a fall?"

Harry stopped by a car parked on the street. It was October now. The cool fall breeze whipped orange leaves past Harry, carrying with them the smell of autumn and the promise of shorter days and cooler nights.

Harry took a moment to enjoy the sensation and to bask in the quiet dusk. As he opened his eyes, he looked into the car that was next to him and saw a wallet sitting on the passenger seat. Deciding to take a chance he tried the door and with a click it opened. He took a second to collect himself and then opened the wallet, noticing there were two £20 notes in it and quickly snatched them. He then quietly closed the door and walked away picking up the pace to create a little distance between him and the crime scene. His heart was thumping. The thrill he got from stealing was only tempered by the worry of being caught.

He knew what the residents of Private Drive thought about him, but he assured himself that he would be more than just a thug or a thief. Indiana Jones was technically a thief. He just didn't keep the things he stole. Earlier this week their class went on a field trip to the British museum in London. Harry saw exhibits from all over the world. A mummy from Egypt, statues from Rome, artwork from Mesopotamia. It was all so mesmerizing he imagined being an explorer, an archeologist, an anthropologist.

He remembered catching parts of the raiders of the lost ark through the vent slats in his cupboard door when Vernon and Dudley watched it. As they were leaving the museum, he saw people lined up in front of the doors protesting the theft of their country's history and treasured items. Harry was confused. Surely, they were mistaken. No one would be bold enough to steal priceless items and then display everything that was stolen. But when he did some research the next day he understood. When the British had an empire that spanned the globe, they sent explorers out to find riches and uncharted lands. Some of the things he saw today were the result of that. So, Harry decided that since everyone thought of him as a thief and a vandal anyway, why not embrace his lot in life. It would likely be more fulfilling than getting drunk and dying in a car crash like his parents had done.

Over the next school year Harry hit the library. He got really into history and war stories. After all, Indiana Jones was a thief and he fought nazis. Was there a more noble calling than ridding the world of bad guys and getting rich while doing so? Harry didn't really understand why Indiana Jones wouldn't sell what he found to collectors. The items would be preserved if for no other reason than the value that was paid for them could be recouped later.

He researched geography and different cultures. Why some places like Europe were so rich and Africa so poor even though Africa had far more natural resources. He then realized he would need to learn more languages then just English. So, he started to learn French and Spanish. That turned out to be a little more difficult than he thought. "Why the fuck does everything have a bloody gender. How is a spoon female but colours are masculine. This makes no fucking sense!" Eventually though by the end of the next school year he was passable in both Spanish and French although he refused to consider learning another language.

He learned that lacked the patience and drive to learn any more. With the three he did know, he could travel to quite a few countries from many different African nations as well as most countries in North, South, & Central America. He was pleased with his efforts and his grades shot up. While he wasn't the top student, he was no longer stagnating at the bottom.

June 30th, 1990

Harry was about to turn 11 in a months' time, and he was already dreading the upcoming school year. He would be going to stonewall high. It looked to be a miserable school only one step above a juvenile delinquent facility. He tried to comfort himself, "well at least I'll meet some interesting people and I won't have to give up exercising. I'm sure I'll have plenty of chances to fight. After all I'm sure to get razzed by a few people for my clothing if whatever monstrosity Petunia is making in the sink, is any clue."

Indeed, Petunia was bleaching some tatty old school uniform in the sink. The water was grey and putrid smelling. Petunia glanced in his direction and scowled after seeing the look of disgust he adorned. "You're going to be thankful for us buying you clothes at all. It's not like your deserving of our generosity, but you could at least be grateful we clothe and feed you. We should have just dropped you off at an orphanage that accursed night." Harry perked up and said "is that still an option? Because I can be packed in 5 minutes." Petunia just scowled harder and ignored him. "Bummer, I almost got free. But of course, if I left who would do the cooking and cleaning?

July 31st, 1991

Sitting at the breakfast table Harry was struggling to swallow a bite of burnt toast when the mail arrived. "Get the mail Dudley." Vernon said from behind this morning's newspaper. "Make Harry get it," whined Dudley. Vernon glanced over the paper and said, "Get the mail boy." Harry made to reply but was silenced by narrowing of Vernon's eyes. Getting up and moving at a deliberately slow pace towards the hallway. Harry thought "sure, make the birthday boy do it."

When he got to the front door, he bent down to pick up the mail and noticed the top letter had his name on it. He quickly pocketed it and returned to the kitchen. Handing over the mail to Petunia, Harry finished choking down his toast and started washing the dishes. The Dursleys decided to go out for the afternoon leaving Harry a list of outside chores and strict instructions to not enter the house until they came back, lest he use the telly or stole food from the fridge while they were away. This was nothing new to Harry. He was often left with a long list of chores and plenty of free time to cause mischief and mayhem.

He would quickly run through the list given and only do the bare minimum. Cut the lawn? Sure, but it would be crooked, and the uncut spots would be overlooked between the lines. Trim the bushes? Yup! He would over trim them and toss the trimmings over the fence into the neighbour's yard. It was amazing how quick the chores would go when you just tossed everything over the fence. Oh, sure there would be yelling and threats of being shipped off to an orphanage, but that threat was never taken seriously.

Today though, Harry had plans. He waited out back for the sound of Vernon's car to pull out of the driveway and turn down the next street. After finishing his chores in record time, he went to the park. Harry took the letter out of his pocket and examined it. The letter was odd. It wasn't made of normal paper. It looked a little like some of the documents he remembered from his trip to the British museum a few years ago. Was the Magna Carta written on paper like this? "Who would use parchment over paper? The Magna Carta was created in the early 13th century. It was 1991 for crying out loud."

Harry then read the letter and was amazed. He released the breath he was holding and asked in a whisper "magic is real?" He studied the list: uniform, robes, dragon hide gloves and pointy hat. Next, he read the book list which was interesting not only because of the subjects they covered, but because the authors names were so strange. Arsenius Jigger, Emeric Switch, Phyllida Spore, and so on. "Wow" he thought "I hope not everyone has such strange names, what's wrong with John, or Adam, or even Bob? There's nothing wrong with the name Bob, a bit boring I suppose." After pondering about odd paper and even odder names he continued reading. "A wand, telescope, brass scales and what's this? Students may also bring an owl, a cat, or a toad."

"What. The. Actual. Fuck are they talking about? A cat yeah okay I get that, but an owl? The bloody birds are nocturnal and a toad? Why would anyone want a toad? Some cool Amazonian poison frog sure but what do toads do?" Shaking his head, he wondered how to reply that yes, he was interested in attending and where would he get some of these items. It was then that he heard a "hoot" coming from the tree beside the garden shed. When he looked, he saw an owl. A bloody fucking owl. At 11am staring at him.

He blinked; the owl blinked. He angled his head to the side in confusion, the owl did the same. "Great" he thought "I've finally snapped, it only took 10 years but there it is. 10 years, or so, with the Dursleys and I'm now playing follow the leader with a bird. Fantastic." His time of self-pity was then interrupted by said bird swooping down and landing on the bench that he was sitting on. The bird looked at him, then the letter, then at him once more before sticking its leg out and once again watching the letter. "You want to take my response?" Great he was now conversing with the bloody thing. The owl hooted and looked at its outstretched leg. So, harry took a pen out of his pocket and wrote a quick reply on the reverse of his acceptance letter, asking for someone to come and inform him about the school.

He then looked at the bird and extended the rolled-up letter to it. The owl grabbed the scroll with its claws and took off north. "What an odd day" Harry thought before shaking himself and thinking, "well let's go get something to eat." After all he was hungry, and a single burnt piece of toast just wouldn't do.