I don't own anything.
Harry Potter had never fit in. At home, he was called a freak for the many strange occurrences that seemed to follow him everywhere. At school, he was isolated and picked on by the other kids, spurred on by his cousin, Dudley. And in the neighbourhood of Little Whinging, he was similarly isolated, though through rumours and gossip of his 'delinquent nature' instead of the physical threats he suffered from Dudley.
At first, he had tried to fit in. He had kept his head down, avoided his cousin like the plague and was as polite as possible to any and everyone he met outside the house. And yet, everyone still managed to blame everything on Harry. The exception being Mrs. Figg, an old woman who lived up the street with her many, many cats, and who sometimes babysat Harry when the Dursleys wanted to be rid of him for a few hours.
After years of this, he had simply given up on trying to be normal. He delighted in the strange events that took place seemingly at random, fascinated by them. At some point, Harry had even begun to try and coax them to happen more often. It had led to many withheld meals and a fair few detentions, like the time he had somehow made Piers Polkiss' bacon butty swap with his own sad cheese sandwich.
But he had long since learned that if he did nothing wrong, people would find a reason to punish him anyways, even where there was none. Thus, it only made sense to at least reap some of the rewards, if he was going to be punished whether he gained anything or not. That bacon butty had been delicious after all, much better than the scraps he would have gotten at supper had the Dursley's not locked him in his room the moment he got home.
He had gotten used to this isolation over the years. So used to it, in fact, that he had never, even in his wildest dreams considered that there were others like him. Imagine his surprise then, at the events that took place on July 31st, 1991, his eleventh birthday.
The day had started rather like every other. Harry had made his way down the stairs at 7 in the morning, studiously avoiding the creaking third step so as not to wake any of his relatives early. As per usual, he would be told to tend the bacon and set the table for breakfast, but the Dursleys tended to not be as cross with him if he had breakfast ready by the time they made their way down. The fact that Harry could sneak a strip of bacon or two while he was cooking if he was unsupervised certainly helped motivate him to get up a little earlier.
Harry cooked the bacon, and managed to sneak 2 whole slices before he heard the light footfalls of his Aunt walking through the hall upstairs. That meant that both Dudley and Vernon would be making their way down in short order, especially since the smell of cooked food had to be making its way into their rooms by now.
At breakfast, Harry had his usual fare. A thin slice of toast with some jelly, accompanied by the smallest slice of bacon left over on the tray. All in all, it wasn't bad. Harry was about halfway through his meal when someone knocked at the door.
"Get the door, Dudley." Vernon grunted, preoccupied with his breakfast.
"Make Harry get it."
"Get the mail, Harry."
"Make Dudley get it."
"Poke him with your Smelting's stick Dudley."
Harry dodged around the stick as he made his way out of the room. The stick, for some reason, was an integral part of Dudley's school uniform. Smeltings was the private school that Vernon had attended in his youth, and naturally Dudley would find his place there as well. Harry, instead, would be attending Stonewall High, the local public school. That was fine by Harry, though, since he would be rid of Dudley for the first time in his life.
He didn't have any illusions that he would be making friends there, but at least his cousin wouldn't be there to torment him.
"Coming!" Harry hurried over to the door as whoever was behind it knocked again. Opening it, he was immediately struck by the thought that this woman who stood on before him was not someone to cross. She was a tall woman, with black hair tied back into a tight bun and a rather thin mouth, set into a small frown. She was dressed professionally, wearing a grey business suit with an emerald green blouse, which Harry noted was almost the same shade as his eyes.
When she caught sight of him, the woman's frown eased up some. A small smile coming over her face as her eyes seemed to drift from his perpetually messy hair to the vividly green eyes hidden behind a thick pair of wire-rimmed glasses that always seemed to be sliding down his nose.
"Harry Potter." She said simply, an almost wistful note in her voice.
Having never met the woman, Harry simply frowned at her. "How do you know my name?" He asked her.
"Apologies, Mr. Potter, it seems that I have forgotten to introduce myself. My name is Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." She said, as if the words coming out of her mouth weren't the biggest load of hogwash Harry had ever heard. Then she continued. "I have come to deliver your Hogwarts letter, and should you require assistance, to accompany you to get your supplies." The woman, Professor McGonagall Harry corrected himself mentally, reached into the breast pocket of her suit and fished out a thick-looking envelope and handed it to him.
Mr. H. Potter
Smallest Bedroom
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
Absently, Harry pushed his glasses back up his nose as a frown formed on his brow. Was this some sort of cruel prank? A trick played by the Dursleys to somehow make fun of him? But no, if the Dursleys wanted to be cruel, they had plenty of other ways to make Harry more miserable than he normally was. And besides, Witchcraft and Wizardry? Uncle Vernon would probably blow a gasket if he heard the words uttered anywhere near his house.
Hesitantly he opened it and began reading.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
UNIFORM First-year students will require: sets of plain work robes (black) plain pointed hat (black) for day wear pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings) Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.
COURSE BOOKS All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK
"You expect me to believe this?" He asked bluntly, nobody had ever accused Harry of beating around the bush. If the woman was some sort of nutter, she would be gone in short order. And for some odd reason, Harry couldn't shake the feeling that what she was saying might just be true.
"Your Aunt and Uncle never told you?" She asked, aghast. If she was acting, she was rather good. Her indignation was almost palpable. "It seems I would better go and have a chat with them." She said. And before Harry could stop her, she walked past him and further into the house.
The next hour was the most surreal of Harry's entire life. The Professor had walked in on the Dursleys finishing their breakfast, and by the time Harry caught up, his Aunt was already a deathly pale while his Uncle's face had turned an interesting shade of puce. Dudley, on the other hand, just looked incredibly confused as he held a fork loaded with bacon in one hand and his Smeltings stick in the other.
Over the next hour, Professor McGonagall calmly explained everything to Harry, even turning Aunt Petunia's favourite vase into a preening nightingale for a moment before turning it back. She explained that, Harry, like his parents was a young Wizard, and that he had a spot at Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the premier academy for magic on the British Isles.
At first, there had been ample shouting and shrieking from his Uncle and Aunt respectively. That had died down when the Professor explained in no uncertain terms that unless Harry himself decided that he would rather not attend Hogwarts, there was nothing that they could do to prevent him from going.
For the first time in Harry's life, someone was standing up to his Aunt and Uncle, and for him no less. Harry pinched himself lightly on the leg, just to make sure that he wasn't just dreaming all of this up. It wouldn't be the last time he did so that day.
Harry's bedroom, 4 Privet Drive, Little Winging, Surrey
20:42, August 31, 1991
Harry sat quietly on his bed, reading. It wasn't something he had spent much time doing before he had gone shopping for his school supplies with Professor McGonagall, mostly because the Dursleys did not own anything worth reading. Aunt Petunia's romance novels did not count.
Now though, he had plenty of textbooks and supplementary texts that the Professor had helped pick out for him, all of which were fascinating, simply by virtue of being about magic. Ever since he had received his wand, Harry had been itching to try out the spells he saw in his books, though the warning from the Professor to not cast any magic at home had stayed his hand.
As much as he wanted to begin practicing his spells, he did not want to risk being kicked out of Hogwarts. He didn't know exactly what would happen if he did cast magic at home, but Harry decided to err on the side of caution. It wasn't like there wasn't enough reading material stowed away in his trunk. Even if dry theory wasn't exactly his favourite.
And this way he wouldn't be going to Hogwarts without knowing anything about magic. He figured that he would still be a little behind the other kids, but at least he wouldn't come across as wildly incompetent. He wanted to make a good impression after all, and being stupid did not sound like a good way of accomplishing that. Although it did seem to work well enough for Dudley.
Regardless, Harry tucked away his copy of Theories of Transubstantial Transfiguration, a supplementary text that Professor McGonagall had recommended for her own course. It covered the different physical and magical properties of different materials and how that factored into Transfigurations. Despite a great deal of the book being filled with formulas that Harry apparently needed to learn something called Arithmancy to make sense of, it was pretty interesting.
He had to get to bed though, his trunk was packed, his clothes for the next day were ready, and he had arranged for Uncle Vernon to drive him to King's Cross the next day. The rotund man had agreed readily, in exchange for Harry keeping out of sight for the remainder of the summer. The fact that he would be rid of Harry for most of the next year certainly helped as well.
As Harry lay down on his bed, though, he held his wand tightly in his right hand. The warm feeling it exuded comforting him as it lulled him to sleep. That night, he dreamed of a bright red steam engine, a large glassy lake and a huge castle on a hill. Though Harry would remember none of it when he woke the next day.
A/N: Okay, another new story. I wasn't planning on it at all, but I was reading The Mind Arts by Wu Gang again and one of the quotes in there just struck a chord. I also wanted to try writing as a narrator instead of from a first person POV, so let me know how I did on that.
Somehow, I wrote the whole outline and this first chapter in one sitting, and I am just now realizing that it's almost 3AM and I have been writing for the better part of 7 hours.
Anyways, I am not planning on adhering to canon very closely as I get further into the story, if you guys were wondering. Though I will mostly take stuff that happened in canon and expand upon it instead of pulling a bunch of shit out of my ass. *Cough 12 magical lordship inheritances and soul bonds and Dumbledore trying to steal Harry's shit among other annoying tropes Cough*
Now feel free to leave any criticism you have in a review or a PM, it's the only way I will improve my writing, after all. Also check out my other stories on my profile, they might interest you if you liked this.