Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. All rights belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros.
Chapter 1
Harry Potter had always known that his life was different from other children, though he couldn't quite place why. He lived with the Dursleys, his aunt and uncle, in a house that stood on Privet Drive, a neatly manicured suburban street in Little Whining. Despite the privacy they seemed to demand, it was a quiet, unremarkable place—except when it came to Harry's existence.
Harry's life had never been one of neglect or cruelty, but neither had it been one of warmth or affection. His Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were neither abusive nor particularly loving. They simply... tolerated him. He was a guest in their home, no more, no less. From the moment he arrived at Number 4, Harry's room had been a guest bedroom, with neutral tones, a simple bed, and a dresser that barely seemed to belong to him. There was nothing particularly special about it—no personal touches or decorations to make it his own. It was a room for someone who didn't truly belong, as if he were never meant to stay for long. Yet, somehow, he did.
Unlike many other children who faced punishment or harsh rules, Harry's life with the Dursleys had one unique feature: freedom. He had no curfew, no chores assigned that he had to do, and while the Dursleys didn't shower him with affection, they didn't force him to earn his keep either. If Harry wanted to earn pocket money, he could choose whether or not to do chores around the house, but no one would ever scream at him if he chose not to.
There were no restrictions on Harry's food. The Dursleys had more than enough, and Harry could eat as much as he wanted whenever he felt hungry. Petunia, though not particularly warm toward him, made sure to serve him a proper meal each evening—grilled chicken, mashed potatoes, vegetables, and whatever dessert she happened to make that day. It wasn't a lavish meal, but it was more than Harry ever needed. Even for his birthday or for Christmas, his only gift would be a plain envelope containing ten-pound notes. Just like everything else, it was absolutely dispassionate and impersonal.
When Harry was five, he started primary school, and he had begun to understand a few things. First, he understood family. It is clear that his aunt and Uncle didn't like him, but they are his family. But are they? He observed many families around him. Dursleys are not a real family for him. They don't care for him no matter however much he tries. Second, he understood that he was different. He understands all sorts of things in very little time. And at last, he understood that he can't understand everything.
After all, there had been times, strange occurrences that he couldn't explain, where things had seemed to happen with no logical explanation.
A falling textbook leaped into Harry's hand during class, A runaway football froze mid-air just as it was about to hit him, He reached for a cup on the kitchen counter, only for it to leap into his hand as if it had been waiting for him. Other times, when he was upset or angry, things around him seemed to shift or fall for no apparent reason. At one point, he had broken a plate while feeling frustrated with Dudley's teasing, but he couldn't explain how the plate had fallen off the table with such force. He had simply thought it was an odd coincidence. But the more he reflected on it, the more he started to wonder if there was something strange about him. A coincidence to explain it can happen one or two times, not every time.
"Maybe it's telekinesis," he thought, after reading a comic book on the subject. Harry had become fascinated by the idea of people with powers who could move things with their minds. The comics spoke of heroes who could make objects float, bend metal, and even lift entire cars. Surely, he thought, that was what was happening to him. He had power. It was an explanation that made sense to him, even if no one else ever mentioned such things.
Harry had always been a curious child. When he wasn't doing chores or reading books, he would spend his free time thinking about the world, pondering how things worked. He'd sometimes hear his aunt and uncle whispering about "normal people" and "odd things," but Harry was certain he was just like them. His peculiar little accidents were nothing more than a quirk. He was in control of it, somehow. If he could just figure out how to make it work, maybe he could be something special.
And so, Harry practiced in secret. He would sit alone in his room and try to focus. He had learned a few tricks from the comics—focusing his thoughts, clearing his mind, and imagining the object he wanted to move. Slowly, over time, he started to feel more confident. He stood in the middle of his room, concentrating on the small toy car sitting on his shelf. He stretched his hand out towards it, just as he had done with the cup, and thought, Come here. Much to his surprise, the car shifted slightly, as if nudged by an invisible hand. Harry's heart skipped a beat. Could it be? Was he actually able to move things? It was a thrilling sensation, the power of it. It made him feel like he was finally in control of something, anything, in his life.
He immediately began practicing. Small items were easiest: pencils, pens, pieces of paper. He could move them with relative ease, although he had to concentrate hard. There were moments when his energy seemed to drain away faster than he anticipated, and he'd find himself slumped on his bed, exhausted. But with time, he started to improve. His power grew stronger, and his focus sharper. Soon, he could move heavier objects, like his books and a small chair from the kitchen. But with every new success, Harry found himself running out of stamina quickly. It was as if every use of his power took something from him, an invisible cost that he had yet to understand.
But one afternoon, something even stranger happened, as Harry was walking home from the park, a group of Dudley's friends surrounded him in an alley. They had been laughing, pushing him around, calling him names. It was one of those moments when Harry had had enough. He was sick of being bullied, sick of being the punchline of Dudley's jokes.
In a moment of sheer frustration, Harry did something he didn't even understand. "Leave me alone!" he shouted, his voice ringing with the anger he had felt building up inside him for years.
And then, something incredible happened.
The boys stopped. They stood still for a few seconds, as though they had been frozen in place. Harry's heart raced, but for reasons he couldn't understand, the boys seemed to lose interest in him completely. The leader of the group, a tall, burly boy with spiky hair, took a step back, muttered something under his breath, and then turned to leave. The others followed. Harry stood there, wide-eyed, unsure of what had just occurred.
He hadn't used telekinesis to move them, but it felt as though something had pushed them away, an invisible force that had altered their perception of him. Harry stared after them, confused but intrigued. Could it be? Was it possible that he had done something—somehow, some way—that had affected their minds?
For the next few weeks, Harry experimented. He had a hypothesis now. What if, in addition to telekinesis, he could control people's thoughts? If he could push objects, could he also push their minds? He would test it whenever he came across a bully or an unpleasant situation.
One day, while passing through the school yard, he found a familiar group of older boys sneering at him. They were whispering among themselves, already laughing at him from a distance. This time, Harry didn't feel anger, but rather a quiet focus. He approached them with the same calm determination he'd used with the object levitations, only this time, he muttered under his breath, Ignore me.
The boys looked up, confused for a moment, before their expressions softened. One by one, they turned their attention away from him and began talking among themselves, completely disregarding his presence. Harry's heart pounded. It had worked. He had used something akin to the Jedi mind trick. And while he wasn't sure exactly how or why it worked; the feeling was undeniable: he had some kind of Telepathy.
Harry couldn't help but smile, though the smile was small and uncertain. There was so much more to discover about his abilities, but he had no idea who to ask, or what they meant. He couldn't talk to Aunt Petunia or Uncle Vernon about it; they would only be confused, or worse, suspicious.
One thing was for certain, though. He wasn't as ordinary as he had thought. He had power. And for the first time in his life, Harry Potter felt like he was starting to understand who he truly was.
The summer days had been long, stretching lazily under a sun that seemed to stay in the sky for hours. Privet Drive had remained as unremarkable as ever, with the usual humdrum of suburban life. The Dursleys were going about their daily routines, and Harry was tucked away in his room, immersed in yet another comic book, trying his best to hone his telekinetic skills.
But then, one ordinary morning, something extraordinary happened. It was an owl.
Harry had never seen one up close before. At first, he thought it was just a trick of his imagination—he had seen so many strange things in comics and books that it wasn't a stretch to think he might be losing his grip on reality. But when the owl landed on the windowsill, he froze. The bird, a large tawny owl with feathers that seemed to shimmer in the sunlight, held something in its beak. A letter.
Harry stood up slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. The bird gave him an expectant look, as if it had been waiting for him. He carefully opened the window, and the owl hopped in with practiced ease, offering the letter directly to him. The envelope was strange—thick, cream-colored paper with the bold words Harry Potter written in emerald green ink. There was no return address, but beneath his name, the words The Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were written in an elegant script.
Harry's hands trembled as he took the letter from the bird, and the owl immediately flew off into the sky, disappearing as quickly as it had arrived. Harry stared at the envelope for a long moment, his mind racing. Hogwarts? Witchcraft? Wizardry? His thoughts spun in a whirlwind of confusion.
The letter had to be some sort of joke. Perhaps it was just a prank from Dudley's friends. Harry shook his head. But no... this didn't feel like a prank. There was something too real about it. The owl. The letter. The way it had been delivered.
He tore the envelope open with trembling fingers and pulled out the letter inside. As soon as he began reading, however, a sudden, sharp pain erupted in his head. It wasn't a normal headache—this was something much deeper, a sensation as if his mind was being pulled in multiple directions at once, like the very fabric of his thoughts was being stretched thin.
The letter blurred in front of his eyes as the pain intensified, and Harry gripped the edges of the page, trying to hold onto the words. Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry Potter. The words echoed in his mind, but they didn't make sense. Suddenly, flashes of memories began to flood his brain—fragmented, fleeting images. Some were of things he didn't recognize, and others seemed... wrong. A classroom, a group of robed people, a strange stick being waved. A word. Oblivate.
The pain in his head intensified, and Harry had to squeeze his eyes shut, clutching his temples as the memories threatened to drown him. When he opened his eyes again, the memories were gone, replaced by a feeling of confusion so deep that it left him breathless. His heart hammered in his chest, and for a moment, he couldn't remember what he had been reading, only that something had changed—something had been unlocked within him.
Mrs. Burbage's classroom reeked of chalk dust and boredom. Harry, tasked with shelving books during detention, traced his finger over a dusty copy of Alice in Wonderland. A flicker of frustration sparked—why couldn't stories be real?—and suddenly, the book flapped open like a startled bird. Pages rustled, characters leapt from the margins, and a tiny, inky Cheshire Cat winked at him from the ceiling. Children screamed. Mrs. Burbage fainted. People in Robes arrived and waved their sticks.
"Obliviate"
He tried to push aside the headache, but it lingered, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. It was then that another memory surfaced—one that made Harry's stomach twist.
Mrs. Finch, his Year 3 teacher, had a shrilling voice hated him and picked on him for no apparent reason. She'd been scolding him for something that day, and he thought she should stop whining like a horse and suddenly he face rippled. Her nose elongated, her ears sharpened into points, and her shriek became a shrill whinny as her head morphed into that of a dappled mare. The classroom erupted. Children screamed, chairs toppled. Through the chaos, two figures in sweeping black robes materialized, with a stick in their hand. One waved the stick and Mrs. Finch changed back.
"Obliviate," Other one hissed.
A flash of blue light. Then nothing.
Harry's breath caught in his throat. The memory felt so real, yet it made no sense. What had happened? What was that stick, and who were those people?
Oblivate.
The word came back to him like an echo, and Harry felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He had heard that word before—he was certain of it. And in that moment, he realized what it meant: erasure. His memories had been wiped clean. Someone had used magic to make him forget.
But why? Why had they done that? And why was he being reminded of it now?
His thoughts were interrupted by another memory—a conversation with Aunt Petunia. It was a strange one, one that had stuck with him despite the usual indifference with which she treated him. Harry remembered, with uncanny clarity, sitting at the kitchen table one afternoon when he had decided to use his newfound ability. He had used his mind trick on her, something he had never done before. "Tell me about my parents," he had said, his voice calm but firm.
Petunia had given him one of her usual dismissive shrugs, but Harry pressed on. He could sense her resistance slipping away as the influence of his command took hold. To his surprise, she had started talking—revealing things he had never expected to hear.
Petunia's eyes glazed. "They were… freaks. Like you. Witches. Magic. That's how they died—meddling in things they shouldn't. And that… that law… makes everyone forget…"
"What law?" Harry pressed, blood roaring in his ears.
"The Statute of Secrecy. A spell, they said. To protect their… their kind. If Muggles see too much, the spell… erases it. Even from us."
Then, as if a switch flipped, Petunia blinked. "Stop hovering, boy. You're letting in drafts."
Harry forgot the conversation soon.
The memories receded, leaving Harry gasping on the floor. The Hogwarts letter lay before him, innocuous and damning.
He had no memory of the details now, but one thing remained clear in his mind: Petunia had told him the truth. She had revealed the magical world to him, and yet, he had forgotten everything she said as soon as the conversation ended.
The power of his mind trick had worked in ways he had never fully understood, and now, he could see the full weight of what had been done to him. The memories—the truth—had been hidden from him, erased by a spell he didn't even know existed. And if that wasn't enough to shake him to his core, it was the realization that the Dursleys hadn't been the ones to keep the truth from him. It was someone, or something else, that had done it. Someone powerful enough to make people forget things as easily as snapping their fingers.
As the headache finally subsided and the weight of his thoughts began to settle, Harry's mind shifted, and a single, burning thought filled him with determination. He wasn't going to let anyone—anything—mess with his mind again. No more forgetting. No more confusion. He was going to learn everything there was to know about magic. He needed answers, and fortunately he was going to get them as accompanying the Letter was a note from Deputy Headmistress that she will personally visit his home tomorrow.
Next day, it was noon when there was a knock on the door. Petunia opened the door.
"YOU!"
"Yes me. Hello Petunia. Now if you don't mind, may I enter."
She wanted to refuse but knew better than that.
"Harry! Come downstairs. There is someone here to meet you."
Harry who was expecting this came down quickly. Upon seeing Harry, her stern expression softened a bit.
"Hello Mr. Potter. I am Professor Minerva McGonagall from Hogwarts. I am here to introduce you to the magical world."
"Hello Professor. I half expected the Letter to be a prank. But as I opened the Letter, I was struck by a headache started remembering things that I didn't before."
"I apologize for the pain caused but it is expected. All suppressed memories of accidental magic due to the Statue of Secrecy are released on receiving the invitation to a Magical school."
"Can I ask what Statue of Secrecy is, Professor?"
"The Statue of Secrecy is a spell, maybe most powerful spell ever created, to separate the magical world from mundane. You will learn more about it in history but suffice it to say that it prohibits the knowledge of magic and magical world from those not aware of it. It was never meant to hide magic from unaware wizards and witches but unfortunately that is a side effect that cannot be easily changed."
"Okay. Do you know anything about my parents? Were they wizards too?"
"Mr. Potter, your parents Lily and James Potter, were one of the most brilliant witch and wizard that I have the pleasure of teaching."
"What happened to them? Did they really die in a car crash?"
McGonagall sighed.
"No, they did not die in a car crash. There was a war." She answered with a pained expression.
"What happened?" Harry asked softly.
"Ten years ago, on Halloween a dark wizard attacked your home. Lily and James fought bravely and defended you. They even defeated their foe but unfortunately, they could not survive."
Harry's breath caught in his throat.
"Who was the dark wizard? Why did he attack?" Harry asked in a quiet voice.
"We do not take his name Mr. Potter. During war he placed a Taboo on his name, causing great harm. I will tell you his name but make sure to not repeat it around anyone else. With his defeat, Taboo may no longer be working but painful memories and trauma still have an effect on people. Do you understand." She asked seriously.
"Yes Professor. I promise not to repeat it."
"His name was Lord Voldemort. But please refer to him as You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named or Dark Lord. But do avoid using that last one."
"Is he dead? I noticed that you always said defeated."
She was impressed a little that he managed to catch that.
"Most assume that yes, he is dead. But there was no body discovered, only his robe. Due to this, a few fear that he may return."
Harry's stomach clenched. After a few moments of silence, she asked.
"So, I take it you are ready to accept your place at Hogwarts?"
"Of course, Professor."
With a quiet 'pop', they appeared in a very old looking pub. Harry felt queasy for the moment. She wasn't kidding when she told him how uncomfortable apparition could be for the first time but he didn't expect it to be this bad."
"Are you okay Mr. Potter?"
"Yes, I am all right. Where are we Professor?"
"We are currently in the Leaky Cauldron at Charing Cross Road in London. This pub serves as the entrance to Diagon alley. Now look carefully Mr. Potter and remember the pattern in which I am tapping these bricks."
The brick she had touched quivered - it wriggled - in the middle, a small hole appeared - it grew wider and wider - a second later they were facing an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley Mr. Potter."
She smiled at Harry's amazement. They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall.
Diagon Alley was nothing like Harry expected. The cobblestone streets were flanked by sleek, enchanted storefronts with floating holographic advertisements.
The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons - All Sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible, said a holographic sign hanging over them.
Another shop was called MagiTech Inc. displaying something called MagiPad and some crystals.
Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks, some shoes and a large carpet in it.
There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon... Harry wished he had about eight more eyes.
Walking into Gringotts for the first time was nothing short of overwhelming. The marble halls stretched high above me, their walls gleaming in the flickering light of the enchanted torches. The hall was filled with goblins and humans working together. Professor McGonagall seemed unfazed by everything around her.
"Go on Mr. Potter. I have some other business but don't take too long. I will be waiting for you at entrance."
"Okay Professor."
As he approached the counter, he wasn't sure what to expect. The goblin behind the counter, looked at him and then at the parchment in front of him. He gave a nod, as if he had been expecting me.
"Ah, Mr. Potter," he said, his voice smooth and cold. "Your account awaits." He took a card from below the counter and placed it on the parchment in front of him. Within a moment, the card flashed blue, and Goblin gave it to him.
The card displayed 687 at top, then his name and at the bottom was G63427 S14 K28.
He was about to ask but sensing his confusion, goblin gave details on his own.
"At the top is your account number, next is your name and at last is the account balance. Here G stands for Galleon, S for Sickle, and K for Knut. There were 17 Sickles in a Galleon, and 29 Knuts in a Sickle, meaning there were 493 Knuts in a Galleon. The Galleon is a gold coin, Sickle is silver, and Knut is bronze. But no one carries physical coins anymore and all financial transactions are done with this card. The back of the card displays old transactions. Using up and down arrows you can see previous and next transactions."
"What would happen if this card got lost?" Harry asked hesitatingly.
"Gringotts will not be responsible if this card is lost. Whoever holds the card can spend the amount as they wish, and card will not be replaced. If you lost the card, then pray that Potter Vault still holds some Galleons as Potter Account will remain sealed until your majority."
"What does that mean? What Potter Vault?
"Gringotts provides 2 main services, Vaults and Accounts. A Vault can only be opened by owner, and they can store anything in it including Galleons, Books, Magical Artifacts, Property Deeds, Portkeys etc. No interest is paid on anything in the Vault but instead a fee is charged as rent for the Vault. If this fee is paid, then no one can stop the Vault owner from accessing the Vault, not even ministry. The rent for Potter Vault is prepaid till year 2000.
An account on the other hand is free to open and maintain but also gives a 3 percent interest. But an account can be seized by Gringotts if there are any unpaid loans or as in your case, by ministry order. Gringotts cards are connected to this account and without it, you will not be issued a card."
Harry took a moment to absorb that and then asked.
"If accounts are sealed then where did this amount came from?"
"Account 687 is not a Potter account. It was opened by ministry to keep Bounty to be paid for You-Know-Who, Personal rewards given by thankful wizards and even money willed to defeater of Voldemort by those who died. James and Lily Potter are credited for his defeat and as their only Legal Heir, this account is passed on to you."
"Why are Potter accounts sealed until my majority? Is that common?"
"It is standard procedure if there are The Last Wills and Testaments registered with Gringotts but not executed. And before you ask, for more information on Potter wills, you would have to contact the ministry." Goblin answered gruffly
Harry was really angry at that but still kept his cool.
"Okay. What are these previous transactions on the card if it was issued today?"
"These are 5 Galleons per week paid to your relatives, the Dursleys, converted into roughly 250 pounds as ordered by the ministry."
'Dursleys were paid to take me in. I thought that even if they don't care for me, they still raised me instead of abandoning me to an orphanage but that too was because of money.'
"Is there anything else, Mr. Potter?" The goblin's voice interrupted his thoughts again, and he realized he had been standing there in silence for far too long.
"Can I stop these payments?"
"Yes, you can. Do you wish to stop them?"
Harry thought hard but eventually replied. "No, not for now."
"Do you wish to visit Potter Vault?"
"Not now. Professor has waited long enough. I think that's all. Thank you."
After Gringotts, their first stop was St. Mugos, a magical hospital. It was a surreal experience. How healer waved his wand and made an illusionary copy of him, that was amazing. He systematically stripped it layer by layer, from skin to muscles, circulatory system, nervous system, various organs to bones. He never expected to witness the inside of his own brain, heart or liver. And after that healer pointed the wand at his eyes.
"This will sting for a moment Mr. Potter."
After giving the warning, he immediately did the spell causing irritation in his eyes. But then, when he opened his eyes, he realized that he could see perfectly without any glass. It was an amazing experience. After that he was told to drink some foul-tasting potions which as he was told were magical equivalent of shots. The whole visit was over within 15 minutes.
Their next stop was MagiTech Inc., a store brimming with glowing glass panes and crystals. There was a floating advertisement.
MagiPad Pro
Thin, Light weight, Transparent
1. Size changing
2. MagiPen
3. Data Crystals
4. Memory Crystals
5. MagiNet
A saleswitch demonstrated a demo model
"This top model shrinks to pocket size, book size or expand as large as muggle television" she said, tapping the edge with her finger. The pane condensed into a hand-sized rectangle. She tapped it again and its size changed. "It is controlled by intent. Just try to imagine the required size."
"You will also get this complementary MagiPen to take Notes or Drawings etc. Now no need for stationary. This too is controlled by intent."
Harry tried everything and found it to be very easy to control.
"Load Data or Memory Crystals here—" She pressed a blue crystal into slot which was invisible until now. Instantly, textbooks like Magical Theory and Advanced Transfiguration appeared on glass screen.
"Use intent to turn page or change book. Data Crystals can be purchased for any subject book. We also have a year wise bundle and a complete 7-year Hogwarts bundle including all electives. Also remember that Data crystals once loaded in a MagiPad cannot be transferred again."
"What about memory crystals" Harry asked
"You can buy empty memory crystals here. Just touch it to your forehead and focus on memory you want to copy. For filled memory crystals like for classes or game recordings, you would have to visit Memoir Memories. You can view stored memories just like a movie on a muggle Television."
"And what is MagiNet?" Harry wondered after reading too many of its advertisements.
"Yes, this top model is MagiNet compatible. You can send and receive a Letter written in MagiPad or MirrorCall anyone connected with MagiNet."
There were other models too like MagiPad Max, MagiPad Plus, MagiPad, MagiPad Lite with various missing features but Harry bought the Top model with complete Hogwarts Book bundle. He tapped his card on required MagiPad and payment was done.
Next stop was Adventurer's Explorations. Despite its name, this shop sells good quality magical trunks according to Professor.
There were many trunks available, but all can be summed up in three categories: Expanded Trunks, Multicompartment Trunks and Apartment Trunks.
Expanded Trunks were simple trunks with up to 2 to 10 times expanded capacity with largest ones containing a whole room within a trunk. Multicompartment Trunks were multiple Expanded Trunks combined into single one, larger ones containing 3 to 7 rooms but not interconnected. Different rooms were available only after exiting the trunk and turning the knob. The Apartment Trunks solves this problem and for all intents and purposes contain a whole apartment with in it.
From 1 BHK to 4 BHK, all kinds of Apartment Trunks were available in different configurations. From Potions Lab to Library or Dueling Hall, everything was an option. Various Charms like Weight reduction, Shrinking, Theft Protection, Notice Me Not charms can be added on the trunks.
Harry decided not to buy the top model for now for the same reason he decided to skip Memoir Memories. If Potter Vault did not have it, he can always buy it later. For now, he bought a simple 3 times Expanded Trunk with shrinking feature and Theft Protection along with a Mokeskin Bookbag.
For Clothes, he preferred Acromantula Silk Robes with Temperature regulation and Growth charms. It was a little expensive, but he simply prioritized his comfort here. After buying other equipment like Dragonhide Gloves, Pewter Cauldron, Brass Scales, Crystal Vials and Collapsible Telescope, it was finally time for his wand.
He was finally matched with a Holly wand with a Phoenix Feather core from same Phoenix that gave Feather to You-Know-Who's wand. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. What did he mean by terrible but great things? On Professor McGonagall's suggestion he also bought a Wand Holster.
"Professor how are people coming and leaving from the mirror?" Harry asked after lunch in Leaky Cauldron.
"That Mr. Potter is a Mirror Portal. Using it you can travel by connected Mirrors or Mirror Call someone if they are connected to Portal Network or PortNet for short."
"Are MagiNet and PortNet same thing?"
"No. They are similar but different. PortNet is ministry controlled but MagiNet is privately owned. There was talk last year about a merger but neither Ministry wants to cede its regulatory authority nor MagiNet owners want it under Ministry control."
"How can I get a Mirror Portal?"
"You will need to go to Ministry and apply for a Portal Crystal and pay the fees. But I think you should avoid it Mr. Potter as a Mirror Portal is very unsecured. If any of the followers of You-Know-Who are left in the ministry, they could easily get access to your home and harm you to get revenge against your parents."
Harry nodded thoughtfully.
"Instead of Mirror Portal, I suggest that you get a Knight Taxi card. Its a magical taxi service and its completely anonymous. Just tap the card with your wand and taxi will arrive. Charges are fair and will depend on distance travelled."
"Where can I get one?"
"Tom from Leaky Cauldron keeps a supply of them."
To return home, on Professors suggestion, Harry used his newly bought Knight card to summon a taxi. It was a very comfortable and fun ride in a magically expanded car with massage seats. When Privet Drive arrived, she insisted on paying and left by apparition.
A/N: If you liked it, please review.
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