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"From what we can tell, your parents were caught off guard. Neither was carrying their wand." (Harry made a mental note to always carry his wand. And his knives, too.) "James tried to hold him off downstairs, while Lily ran went to your nursery to try to protect you. Voldemort killed James, then Lily, and then he turne... |
"What?" Harry asked, ignoring the burning in his eyes. |
"Voldemort had been using the Killing Curse. It's a spell that cannot be cast if you want to harm, or even to kill in self-defense; you have to be willing to murder the victim, whether it's justified or not. Because of that, and because there is no known shield or counter-curse for it, use of the Killing Curse is punis... |
"But when he cast the Killing Curse at you, Harry, the spell rebounded. Voldemort, who cast the spell and should have been unharmed, vanished without a trace; and you, who had been the target and should have died, survived with only a cut upon your forehead. It has made you famous in our world—the child who struck down... |
Harry reached up and touched the strange zigzagging scar. |
"I have no facts to answer you with, Harry, only theories. But your mother could have run, could have saved herself, and instead tried to protect you. That is the sort of action that can invoke Old Magics—powers far greater, and far more subtle, than what mere wands command." |
Harry turned away from Dumbledore. By the time he turned back, wiping his eyes, Dumbledore was studying the books on his shelves. |
"You have the beginnings of a fine personal library here, Harry." |
"Thank you, sir." |
"No fantasy novels, though?" |
Harry shook his head. "The Dursleys don't approve of imagination." |
"I see," Dumbledore said with a frown. |
After a moment's silence, Harry said, "So what happens next?" |
"If you accept your invitation to Hogwarts"—Harry nodded, and Dumbledore beamed— "then I will ask a member of our staff to meet your here and escort you to Diagon Alley, a magical shopping district in London. It will have to be on or after your birthday; you must be eleven to purchase a wand." |
"July 31st, then," Harry said. |
"Eight o'clock?" |
"That sounds fine." |
"Then there are two things I should give you." Dumbledore pulled a small golden key out of his pocket. "The first is the key to vault 687 at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. It is a trust vault set up by your parents, and should contain more than enough money to see you through your school years. On your seventeenth birthday,... |
Harry took the key from Dumbledore. |
"You will most likely visit Gringotts early in your journey to Diagon Alley. While you're there, ask the teller to begin sending account statements to yourself instead of me. If he claims there is a fee for this service, he is trying to swindle you. Reiterate that you want one statement sent to you, not one to you and ... |
Harry frowned. What kind of people were these bankers, anyway, to try to trick customers into paying unnecessary fees? |
"The other thing"—Dumbledore withdrew a paper envelope from his pocket—"is your ticket for the Hogwarts Express. It leaves at eleven o'clock from King's Cross Station, London. I recommend you get there early so you have time to find a good cabin." |
Harry took the envelope and looked inside. The ticket was on the same sort of parchment as his Hogwarts letter. "Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, sir?" |
"It is hidden between Platforms Nine and Ten. Go to Platform Nine and look for what appears to be a bricked-up archway near the entrance. If you approach it with confidence, you will have no trouble passing through." |
"Thank you, sir." He put both the key and the ticket in his desk. |
"I believe that's all we have to discuss today, Harry, unless you have any questions." |
Harry shook his head. "I'll show you out, then?" |
"That would be very kind of you, Harry. Thank you." |
Dumbledore made his chair disappear, and Harry led him downstairs. Harry paused as he was reaching for the door handle. |
For the last five days, ever since Professor McGonagall had told him someone would be coming to meet with him, old fantasies, buried in the back of Harry's mind for five years, had started to come back unbidden. He had to ask... |
"Professor...do I have to stay with the Dursleys?" |
Dumbledore sighed. "They are your only family, Harry." |
"Sir...they don't...hurt me anymore, not since I started defending myself, but..." Harry clenched his eyes shut, willing back the tears. "It's not right here. They're not my family; they're just my relatives." |
Dumbledore looked at him sadly. "I'm sorry, Harry. There is nowhere else I can place you." |
"Of-of course, sir. I should have known better." |
"No, you should always ask for help when you need it. I'm sorry that I have none to offer this time." |
Harry nodded, but inside, he was reminding himself: You can't count on anyone to protect you but you. |
"I shall see you at Hogwarts on September the First, then," Dumbledore said. "Remember to be ready to visit London on your birthday. I'm sure it will be quite the occasion. And good luck with your Sorting." |
Harry was turning to open the door, puzzling over the word Sorting, when he heard a soft pop! behind him. When he turned back, Professor Dumbledore was already gone. |
Dumbledore had been right—Harry’s birthday had been quite the occasion. Fascinating and exciting, but also frustrating. |
When Harry had opened the door at eight o’clock sharp, his first thought was that Dumbledore had sent a bear to collect him. But he quickly realized this wasn’t a bear, but a man—a man twice as tall and five times as broad as any man Harry had ever met. He had introduced himself as Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys and Ground... |
Harry had been wondering how they were to get to this Diagon Alley—would they ride a magic carpet? Open a glowing doorway? Simply pop away like Professor Dumbledore had?—and was a bit miffed to find they’d be taking the train, but it did give him a chance to question Hagrid about his job while they shared a sticky choc... |
"Well, the groundskeepin’ part’s obvious "nough. As fer the keys—there’s three Keys o’ Hogwarts. The Gate Key unlocks the Gates o’ Hogwarts; with the Gates locked, yeh won’ find a place safer. The Ward Key unlocks the ward room; inside the ward room, yeh can control all the spells on the castle. I hold on ter those two... |
Once they’d reached London—and fought their way through a crowd of well-wishers at the wizarding pub, The Leaky Cauldron—Harry’d had to fight tooth and nail every time he wanted to deviate from Hagrid’s instructions. He had steered Harry away from browsing the bookstore, instructing him to get his assigned course books... |
On the other hand, after visiting both Harry’s trust vault and a high-security Hogwarts vault, he did allow Harry to change some of his wizard gold to Muggle pounds at the bank (Harry had haggled with the goblins—oh, yes, the bank was run by goblins!—over the exchange rate), and at the robe shop, he’d picked up some da... |
By the time they returned to Privet Drive, the moon was high and bright, and Harry was seething. If there was one thing the trip had underscored, it was that he was an important figure in this new world. He couldn’t afford to walk into it blind—he had to be prepared! |
Still, Harry had remained friendly with Hagrid, even as he pushed back as much as he could; there was no sense antagonizing the man, and it was always useful to have a friend with some authority. Harry watched Hagrid stride down the block; Hagrid waved as he turned the corner, and then he was gone. |
Harry dragged his new trunk and bird cage past the living room, where he could hear the telly on, and up to his room, unlocked the door, and brought them inside. He opened the window for his new owl, put the cage on his desk, and set the trunk at the foot of his bed. Then he looked toward his pillow and started. |
Upon his pillow lay a package, wrapped in red paper with a blue ribbon, and under that ribbon was a card on yellow parchment. Harry glanced at the door before remembering that he’d unlocked it when he came in. How had this gift gotten into the room? |
He closed and locked the door, then picked up the package—it was soft and surprisingly light—and read the card. It said, in loopy handwriting: |
Your father left this in my possession before he died. He told me that your grandfather, Charlus, gave it to him on his eleventh birthday. Though James is no longer with us to do it himself, I believe it is time it was given to you. |
Many happy returns. |
There was no signature. |
Eager to see what he’d gotten of his father’s, Harry tore the wrapping in moments. Something slippery slid out of his hand and onto the bed, where its silvery folds glimmered in a shaft of moonlight. |
Harry picked it up, noting the strange way the material seemed to flow in his fingers. It was a piece of clothing, he realized—not a full robe, but more like the winter cloak he had bought with his uniforms. He carried it to the wardrobe and opened the door to reveal a cracked mirror; then he threw the cloak over his s... |
His torso had disappeared! |
He reached down to touch his hands to his chest and was relieved to still feel it underneath the oddly flowing fabric. His body was still there, it was just... |
Quickly, Harry pulled his arms under the fabric, and they disappeared too, leaving just his head floating in the air. He grabbed the inside of the cloak and lifted it, pulling it over his head, and his reflection vanished completely. |
This could be very useful. |
In fact, between this cloak and the unobtrusive robes he’d bought earlier, he suspected he could find a way around Hagrid’s interference... |
Harry shrugged the cloak off and hung it in the wardrobe; then he slipped downstairs to ask Vernon for a lift to King’s Cross. |
The cloak opened up opportunities for Harry that he’d never had before. Each morning he dressed, tucked one of his new books into his rucksack, threw his magic cloak over himself, and snuck out of Number Four. A few blocks away, he would duck into an alley and stuff the cloak into his rucksack. With the Dursleys not se... |
He mainly spent them reading his new books. His textbooks were all very interesting, although he didn’t really understand half of what they were talking about; he suspected that would come in the classroom. Magic for the Muggleborn taught him lots of basic things about magical life, but from the examples they used, he ... |
Now, though, his month-long wait was over. Harry had released his owl, now christened Hedwig, to meet him at his destination; the hated cage would stay behind at Privet Drive. Vernon had driven him to London, brought him to King’s Cross, and glared at him as he pulled his trunk out of the boot and into the station. |
It was ten o’clock on August 31st. |
Harry spotted a sign for Platform Nine, but that wasn’t his destination today. Instead, he headed for the Underground. He bought a ticket with some of the Muggle money he’d changed at Gringotts and got on a train for Brixton. It only took one line change to get to Charing Cross, and from there, he followed the path Hag... |
This was going to be the trickiest part—Harry was still wearing Dudley’s castoffs (though he’d picked the most unobtrusive colors he could), and from what he’d seen with Hagrid, every entrance to the Cauldron drew at least a little attention. He brushed his fringe down over his scar as much as he could, took a deep bre... |
He did get a few glances, but nobody recognized him, at least not backlit by the street. He pulled his trunk to the bar, where he ran into an unexpected obstacle. |
"Well," Tom the barman sad, "if it isn’t Mister—" |
"Evans," Harry blurted. Tom stared at him; Harry tipped his head towards the other patrons. "Harry Evans." |
"Right," Tom said, tapping the side of his nose. Something tense in Harry’s chest unclenched; the barman was cannier than he’d thought. "What can I do for you, Mr. Evans?" |
"I was wondering if I could have a room for the night," Harry said. "Don’t want to miss the Express tomorrow." |
Gold changed hands, then a key. Tom cast a spell on Harry’s trunk and it followed them upstairs. |
"No guardians with you today, Harry?" Tom asked on the way. |
"No. They’re Muggles, you see, and they’re a bit nervous about our world." |
Tom gave him a searching look. "If you ever need a place to stay for a couple weeks—well, you wouldn’t be the first Hogwarts student from a Muggle household I’ve put up." |
"Thank you," Harry said, and he meant it. Of course, Tom would get paid for helping him, Harry realized; that was probably why he offered, but it didn’t make that offer any less useful. |
Harry changed into his gray casual robes, then threw the Invisibility Cloak over his shoulders and headed down to the bar. A few minutes later, he followed a pair of old witches into the alley. |
His first stop was Gringotts. He wasn’t sure they would like an invisible person entering their bank, so he hid behind one of the columns that flanked the entrance and whipped off the Cloak, stuffing it into his rucksack. Then he walked in, giving the goblin guards—who had been staring at him ever since he appeared fro... |
A half hour later and a few pounds of gold heavier, Harry whipped off his cloak, rounded a corner, and stepped into the Mr. Strong’s. The only other person in the shop was the same saleswitch he’d seen last time. |
"Oh, hello again, Mr. Potter!" she greeted him. |
"Hello ma’am," he said politely. "I’m afraid we were in a bit of a hurry last time, but I was really curious about those options you were talking about..." |
From what she described, it sounded like he could get an entire mansion in his trunk, complete with a sunroom with windows charmed to look like a tropical paradise. That was far more than he’d need, though—not to mention far more than he could afford. Instead, he opted to get the main compartment enlarged to the size o... |
Harry was pleased to learn that, instead of selling him a new trunk, the store could retrofit these features into his old one. If he left the key with her, she told him, she would have the elves pick up his trunk and return it when they were through. |
"Wait, these...elves can just take anything no matter where it is?" Harry asked. |
She chuckled. "Only with your permission, Mr. Potter. A house elf that is bound to a wizard is also bound by wizard laws." |
Harry’s next stop was Flourish and Blotts, where house elves were the newest addition to a large list of subjects he wanted books on. Harry didn’t love books like a few of the students in his school had, but he thought they were dead useful—fiction books were better entertainment than the shows Dudley liked on the tell... |
Harry’s first stop was the books on the war with Voldemort—he bought one copy of each. He also picked up a few books of curses and other fighting spells, a directory of British owl-order businesses, and a tiny monograph on house elves that looked like it had been in the store longer than the shelf it was sitting on. Th... |
And so he went through the store, building a small but (at least as far as an untrained eleven-year-old could tell) practical library for himself. He was reaching for a copy of Notable Magical Names of Our Time when his hand bumped into someone else’s. |
"Oh, I’m sorry," he said at the same time as the hand’s owner. They looked at each other and both started laughing. |
The girl he’d bumped into was a little taller than him, with bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth. She was dressed in Muggle clothes—a blue blouse and nearly floor-length black skirt—and carrying a basket that was absolutely overflowing with books. |
"I should have looked where I was reaching," Harry said. "Are you going to Hogwarts too?" |
"Oh, yes," the girl said, and words began spilling from her mouth in a torrent of information: "I just wanted to pick up some reading for the train—I’ve already learned all the course books by heart, but it’s all so new to me, nobody in my family’s magic at all, you see, so I thought I should make sure I have the requi... |
It took Harry a moment to respond; by the time she’d finished speaking, his brain had only just reached the phrase requisite background knowledge. "Erm, I’m Harry. Harry Potter." |
"Are you really?" Hermione asked. "I’ve read about you, of course, you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts." |
"Well, I’ve only read Rise and Fall, and at least some of the stuff in it is inaccurate—I only found out about the magical world when I got my Hogwarts letter last month, so I certainly wasn’t Dumbledore’s secret apprentice, and I had no part in brokering any peace treaty with the centaurs of Laconia, wherever that is.... |
"It’s in Greece," Hermione said absently, frowning to herself. "Rise and Fall did seem a little more...exciting than Modern Magical History. I assumed it just included different details, though." |
Harry shrugged. "In any case, I’m getting a bunch of books about the war to see how much I can actually confirm." And Harry showed her some of his selections, and she returned the favor, and then they started browsing the bookshelves together, chatting about the books they were looking at ("But how would you even read ... |
Eventually, Hermione’s parents came over and told her they needed to go. After she introduced them to Harry (he stumbled over calling them both "Doctor Granger", and Hermione’s mother laughingly replied that he’d just demonstrated why he had to call them Lance and Jane), they walked to the check-out stand; there were t... |
As he waited, Harry thought about Hermione. There was no doubt she was very smart—much smarter than him. She was definitely straight-laced, but she seemed so fascinated by his adventures with his friends, even as she scolded him for them, that he figured he could get her to loosen up. And when she’d talked about her li... |
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