Chapter 3: A Mother's Love

Harry showed Dumbledore to the three-seater sofa but Dumbledore settled himself instead, on Uncle Vernon's chair. Harry bit his lip nervously. Should he say something? No, he decided. Maybe he should offer something to eat or drink instead. But Aunt Petunia might not like that…

Harry was saved the trouble of deciding by Dumbledore who said, "Harry, please go and fetch your aunt and uncle. Then go to your room. I have some things that I wish to discuss with them." His voice was polite and he had said please, but Harry got the feeling that it wasn't really a request.

"Yes, sir" Harry found himself saying. He left the sitting room and checked the kitchen but Aunt Petunia wasn't there. Her bedroom door was shut, however. So, Harry knocked on it. "What do you want, boy?" demanded Uncle Vernon, opening the door. "A Mr. Albus Dumbledore is here. He's asking for you and Aunt Petunia."

Uncle Vernon glanced at his wife who gave a small nod. "Right, we'll see him. You go to your cupboard."

Harry watched his aunt and uncle disappear into the sitting room. He briefly considered eavesdropping on them. But what if he was caught doing it? Dumbledore wouldn't be pleased and Harry didn't want to offend the man who might be his ticket out of here. He went to his cupboard and waited.

Ten minutes later, Aunt Petunia rapped on his cupboard door. When he'd opened it, she simply said, "It's been decided that you'll attend - that – that school and that you'll come back to us each summer till you're an adult. He'll take you out today for – for school stuff."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia" said Harry, his heart soaring.

"And put on something clean" she added, wrinkling her nose at the food stains on Harry's t-shirt.

"That was Dudley's clumsiness. Wasn't me" said Harry, unable to restrain himself. Aunt Petunia's lips thinned. But she walked away, not saying anything else to him.

Harry quickly put on a different t-shirt, one of two that was actually his size, and then joined Dumbledore in the sitting room.

"Ah, Harry, there you are. Come and sit" called Dumbledore, patting the sofa cushion nearest him.

Harry nervously sat down.

"You must have a lot of questions, Harry. But it's best for me to explain things like I usually do, one step at a time. I have quite a bit of experience in breaking the news about the warlock world to young boys and girls."

"So… so it's true, what the giant said?" asked Harry eagerly. Magic is – it's real?"

"The giant is Rubeus Hagrid who prefers to be addressed by his last name only. And yes, magic is real." Dumbledore drew a black wooden stick from within a pocket of his strange robe. "This is called a magic wand."

Harry leaned forward eagerly as Dumbledore pointed it at the coffee table. A jet of violet light issued from its tip and struck the table. A moment later, the table turned into a swarm of bees. Harry stared at the bees, his jaws hanging open. He wanted to rub his eyes or pinch himself but he could not help but feel that both would be childish things to do. Dumbledore pointed his wand at the bees and a moment later they changed back into a coffee table, which landed, with a small thud, exactly where it had been moments ago.

"Could I learn to do things like that, sir?" asked Harry eagerly.

"With study and practice" replied Dumbledore. "I am glad that you believe in magic. The next step is to believe that you, Harry, are capable of magic."

"I've had a lot of strange things happen to me."

"I imagine they all happened when you had particularly strong feelings about something."

"Yes, sir. They did. I've – I changed a videogame to goo and shrunk a sweater and made things fly out of my cousin's hand and…" Harry trailed off anxiously watching Dumbledore's face. Dumbledore nodded encouragingly. Confidence rising in him, Harry said, "I… I'm a… a warlock" he finished, tasting the word. A slow smile broke out on his face and an answering smile appeared on Dumbledore's.

"The gia—I mean, Hagrid mentioned a school for magic. Hogwarts."

"We will get to that. First, a bit of background. I do not like repeating myself, so listen closely."

Harry nodded quickly and Dumbledore began. "There have always been two groups of humans. Warlocks, that is magical people and Muggles or non-magical people. For a long time, the two communities co-existed peacefully, using their discoveries and gifts to aid one another. For instance, Muggles invented agriculture and shared their knowledge with us. Warlocks learned to heal with magic and gave the gift of healing freely to any Muggle who wished it. But the peace and mutual co-operation did not last. Muggles both coveted magic and feared what those who possessed it might do. Their fears were not unfounded for among the warlock community there has always been and still are people who believe that warlocks should stand above Muggles, subjugate them and rule them. These fears and ambitions led to a war between the two groups. Conflicts had always existed but this war went on for years, then decades, then centuries with only brief respites. All over the world it was the same. Fearful that warlocks and Muggles might wipe each other out or at least cause irreparable damage to both societies, a group of warlocks, all leaders in their own lands, came together and made a historical decision. The International Confederation of Warlocks was established and the International Statute of Secrecy was adopted. Warlocks everywhere went into hiding. Slowly, Muggles were made to believe that magic and magical folk had been exterminated. Ever since, the warlock community has existed in secret all over the world, concealed by our magics." Dumbledore paused. "Are you with me so far, Harry?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. It is an immutable law of nature that that only about one in five hundred people born in the world are able to use magic. Warlocks are born in higher numbers in some places and lower numbers in others, but if you look at the global population, warlock numbers are only a five hundredth part of the Muggle population. Normally children born to warlocks are warlocks and children born to Muggles are Muggles. But sometimes too few children are born to warlocks and warlock numbers begin to reduce. In times like these, some children born to Muggles are also born with magic, so that the overall proportion of magical people is maintained.

"And I'm like that, sir?"

"No, Harry. And please do not interrupt me. Over the course of my explanation, you will get the answers that you desire. If you have more questions, you can ask at the end."

If Harry hadn't been born to Muggles, then were his parents magic too? But then how had they died in a car crash? It was hard, very hard, to not blurt out the questions in his head. Harry had never been more curious about anything. He forced down the questions and made himself say, "Yes, sir."

"Within the warlock community, traditions and customs are quite different to what Muggles have. One aspect in which this is seen the most, is in the way families are organized. The difference stems from magic markers possessed by every warlock. This marker can take two forms; an animal shaped birthmark upon the body or dual-colored eyes."

Harry's hand went automatically to the stag shaped birthmark upon the right side of his neck. Dumbledore nodded his head.

All of the ancient warlock families have one animal shaped birthmark that is associated with them. And all warlocks born to Muggles, warlocks who possess no blood ties to the ancient families possess dual-colored eyes.

Every warlock child who is born to warlock parents inherits its magic marker from one of its parents. If the magic marker comes from the mother, then the child bears the mother's family name. If the magic marker comes from the father, then the child bears the father's family name. For instance, you Harry, are the son of Lily Evans and James Potter. You inherited your father's stag birthmark and not the dual colour eyes of your mother. Therefore, you are Harry Potter and not Harry Evans."

"What colours were my mother's eyes?"

"Her eyes were green like yours but flecked with gold also."

"Oh" Harry tried to picture her but he'd never even seen a photo. "So, my mum was born to Muggles?" he asked.

"Your mother's parents were" corrected Dumbledore. "Olivia Ruth Evans, your maternal grandmother and Gerald Alden Alders, your maternal grandfather were both born to Muggles. Your mother Lily inherited her green and gold eyes as well as the Evans name from her mother."

Harry nodded his understanding. Then a sudden thought occurred to him. "Sir, if my grandparents were magic and my mum got her magic from my grand mum, then shouldn't my Aunt Petunia be magic too?" he asked.

"In rare cases, a child born to warlocks is unable to use magic. Such people are called squibs. It is common in very late born children. Petunia was born decades after Lily was. It is hard for squibs to accept their lack of magic, harder to accept it while they see magic all around them. Squib children are sent to Muggle schools and adult squibs usually prefer to live in the Muggle world, completely cut-off from our world.

"So… so then she knew all along that – that I could be magic too?"

"Yes Harry"

"Oh" Anger bubbled up inside of him, for the lies and the deceit but he also felt some pity. Aunt Petunia had been highly different from her parents and sister, been sent away from them and their magical world which must surely be wonderful… No wonder, she pretended it did not exist. Still, she should have told him the truth.

"As you must be able to guess now, the practice of taking family names based on magic markers makes warlock families more complex than Muggle families are. In our world, every couple will have different last names, not the same one. And the same couple might have some children with their mother's name and other children with their father's name. So, in our world, people possess two families. The first kind is the nuclear family, comprising of parents and children. The second kind is simply referred to as one's family and refers to all people who bear the same name. In our world, even second and third and more distant cousins who belong to the same family will know each other, be close, and may in some cases even live together as one large family."

"Sir, are there any Potters besides me? Or Evanses? What happened to all my grandparents? And if my mum and dad were warlocks, then how did they die in a car crash?" The questions he could no longer hold back tumbled out of Harry.

Dumbledore's eyes turned sad. "Your parents did not die in a car crash, Harry. No car crash could have killed James Potter and Lily Evans. Their deaths were not accidents but murders, as were the deaths of the rest of your family."

"Murders!"

"As I mentioned, there are some warlocks who believe that warlockkind should rule over Muggles. More than twenty-five years ago, a warlock called Voldemort sought to overthrow the Ministry of Magic, the government of Magical Britain. He tried to usurp power through stealth and force both. Many warlocks rallied to him and many others opposed him. Your family, particularly your parents were among the latter. Voldemort sought to kill them. To protect themselves and you, your family went into hiding. When you were just a year old, Voldemort came to Godric's Hollow, the magical village where your whole family had been living in hiding. He killed your whole family."

A boiling mixture of emotions welled up inside Harry. He'd once had parents and grandparents and cousins... a whole family that would have loved and cherished him, if Voldemort had not torn them all away. In his mind, a long-buried memory flashed up. Harry heard a high, cold, cruel laugh and saw a blinding flash of green light.

"What happened to him? To Voldemort?" Harry could not keep the anger out of his voice.

"After killing your family, Voldemort also tried to kill you. But you survived his attack, which rebounded upon him and broke his powers. He is not dead. He exists still, in faraway hiding places, awaiting a chance to return and seek power once more."

"But how did I live? You say he killed my whole family and I was only a baby…"

"When the rest of your family, including your father had fallen, when it became clear that there was no way to escape Voldemort, your mother Lily took her own life, sacrificed it, to give you a protection that lives in your blood. A protection that prevented Voldemort's attack from harming you, causing it to rebound upon him instead. You are alive today because of your mother's immense love for you.

Dumbledore busied himself with looking out the window, giving Harry time to wipe away the tears that were sliding down his cheeks. When he felt able to speak again, Harry asked, "Why was I never told any of this before? How come Aunt Petunia didn't tell me anything at all? Does she hate magic so much she couldn't even tell me how my parents died?"

Dumbledore sighed. "She highly despises magic, yes. I was not aware that your aunt and uncle had chosen to keep you in the dark. I had also not thought that they would be foolish enough to believe they could raise you as a Muggle and 'squash the magic out of you', to borrow a phrase from your uncle."

"They didn't" said Harry quickly. And I'm not going to be a Muggle" he added stubbornly.

"Of course, they did not squash anything out of you and of course you are not a Muggle, Harry. You are a warlock, quite a powerful one for your age. Hogwarts is the best school for magic in all of Britain and accepts only those students who show the highest magical potential."

The highest magical potential… a smile appeared on Harry's face and then a question popped into his brain.

"How do you know about my potential, sir?"

"The Ministry of Magic uses a powerful and extensive piece of magic called The Trace which tracks the use of all magic done outside of Magical Britain. This information is shared with schools when the warlocks in the Muggle world turn eleven and are old enough to begin their secondary or magical education. On that note, allow me to wish you a very happy birthday, Harry."

"Thank you, sir" said Harry smiling. It was a happy birthday. The happiest he had ever known.

"Now, I assume that you wish to go to Hogwarts like your parents did before you?"

"Yes, sir. Very much."

"Good. I am the headmaster of Hogwarts. Since you are to become a student, you will address me from now as Headmaster Dumbledore or Professor Dumbledore."

"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore."

"The only thing that remains then, is for me to take you to buy your school things. Term will begin in September."

"My aunt mentioned that, sir. Professor Dumbledore, how will I pay for tuition and my school things? I don't think my aunt and uncle will be willing to pay for me to learn magic…"

"Hogwarts has no tuition fee. The school is funded by the Ministry of Magic and the donations of alumni. As for books and uniforms and equipment, your parents left you an inheritance Harry, a very sizeable one. It is waiting for you in our world."

"In one of the magical settlements you mentioned sir?" Harry could not wait to see this.

"In our capital" replied Dumbledore.

Harry nodded his head eagerly.

Dumbledore rose to his feet. I have with me several students who were born to and raised by Muggles. Future classmates who, like you, are discovering the magical world only now. We have one more student to collect and then we shall head to Diagon Alley, the prime shopping street in our world. "Come."

Harry followed Dumbledore out of the house without a backward glance.