Chapter Text
Chapter 1
Harry dodged out of the way of Dudley's Smeltings stick as his cousin tried once more to break one of Harry's legs, swinging it at Harry as he went past. Harry would be glad once the moron is gone in September, at least his uncle was too fat and lazy to try to physically hurt Harry. It was rare for Vernon to catch him these days.
Harry collected the mail from the doormat and started looking through it to see who it all belonged to. Uncle Vernon, Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon. He was sorting them as he flicked through them, then he paused. Dudley had a letter addressed to his bedroom. It had the address written in green ink and, oddly enough, there was no stamp on it. That was weird.
Then Harry noticed an almost identical letter addressed to himself, but he also noticed that his letter was addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. How did someone know about the cupboard? Harry had tried to tell people about it in the past, but they always forgot about it the next day and nothing ever happened. Harry knew enough to know that was unusual. The people he told were the people who were legally bound to tell the authorities stuff like that. Teachers, doctors, and dentists, to name a few. But they all just seemed to forget.
Harry handed out the mail to its addressees and took his seat back at the breakfast table. "What have you got there, boy?" Vernon demanded as Harry was opening his letter.
"A letter, Dudley and I each have one. Looks like they are from the same place." There was no point in Harry lying, his uncle might check the letters later. Unbeknownst to Harry, Vernon heard Harry's words and just assumed it was a standard letter sent out to all the kids in the area who were due to move into Stonewall Comprehensive in September. Almost certainly it was about uniform standards and a list of basic stuff students would need. Not that Dudley was going there, but what could you expect from a state school? Probably lost the notice that his boy would be attending a boarding school. The result of all this thinking was that Vernon had concluded that the letters were harmless, so he turned back to his newspaper
Harry unfolded his letter to read.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Harry James 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 the necessary books and equipment. I will be arriving at your place of residence today at 11am to discuss with you and your family the finer points of this opportunity.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress
Harry was just about to check the other piece of paper when Dudley practically shouted. "I have been offered a place in a school!"
"Don't worry Dudley. Just because Stonewall sends you a letter doesn't mean that you are going there. Damned state school probably lost the notice you will be attending Smeltings. I will have to chase up your primary, though, and make sure they have sent your records to the right school."
"But the letter isn't from Stonewall. It's from some weird place called Hogwarts," said Dudley.
The change in Vernon and petunia was immediate. Vernon, who normally had a rather reddish complexion, a fact Harry attributed to the sky high blood pressure the man must have from all the salty fried food the man ate, suddenly was the same cooler as the papers he and Dudley were currently holding. Petunia, on the other hand, who was normally quite pale, went red with anger.
Uncle Vernon's diet was something that was in part Harry's fault. He always made sure Vernon's food was extra greasy. It kept the man too slow and unfit to catch Harry and beat him like he did when Harry was younger. Also, if he got lucky, then his uncle would have a heart attack. Not that Harry held much hope for that, as you needed to have a heart first.
"Both of you put those letters down immediately and get out!" Vernon shouted. Harry, knowing when his uncle wasn't to be pushed, did exactly as he was told. Dudley, who was not used to being talked to that way, stayed and tried to demand that his parents tell him what was going on.
Harry wasn't going to try to argue, but he wasn't going to let the Dursleys keep him in the dark either. The best path for Harry was to get knowledge another way. His first thought was to try to listen at the door, but he knew Dudley would see that and would take that spot for himself. So Harry quietly slipped out of the front door and snuck around the back of the house, making sure to duck under the windows. The kitchen, after all, had two doors, one to the hallway which Harry just used, and the door to the garden had a keyhole he could stick his ear to.
"How the hell does my boy have a letter for that place? The Freak I can understand, just like his parents. But my son!" Vernon's voice was easy to understand even through the door.
Harry had to go on stage to hear his aunt, though. "It must have been the boy who infected our Diddykins."
"The freak? No… your sister, your nephew, your son. What's the common denominator here? You. You and your blood. I won't have it, not in my house. Dudley is going to Smeltings, and the Freak is going to Stonewall. That's final. We will just have to tell this McGona-what's-it's that she has wasted her time and they won't be going," Vernon ranted
"But Vernon, look at the boy's letter," Petunia said.
"What about it? Burn it for all I care," Vernon snapped.
"Look how it was addressed and look how Dudley's was addressed. How do they know where the boys sleep?" Petunia sounded scared.
"They must have been spying on us. I'll wring their bloody necks, bloody peeping Tom's."
Harry thought he had learned all he was going to, so he decided to go and have a walk in the park to think. He snuck back around the house, then set off. As he was walking, he made a list of what he knew.
Freaky stuff happens around me and Vernon and Petunia blame me.
People always seemed to forget things he told them about his home life.
His aunt and uncle weren't at all surprised Harry had a letter.
They were surprised to find that Dudley had received a letter.
The letter claimed to be from a school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Vernon claimed Harry's mother was the same.
The next thing for Harry to do was to infer what he could from what he had learned. If he accepted that everything he had just learned was true, then his mother attended a school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. That would mean the strange things that happened around Harry were magic, which would be difficult to accept. Though it would explain a few things, like how he had managed to turn his teacher's hair blue, how the glass had vanished at the zoo, and how his hair grew back overnight, to name a few.
Dudley got a letter. It had surprised Petunia and Vernon. So if magic is real, then not everyone could do it, but he and Dudley could. That may explain why nobody knew about it. Maybe it was very rare, perhaps passed down families like a genetic mutation like having red hair. Their teacher last year had told them ginger hair was a mutation. Dudley had had fun calling Becky Fullmen in their class a mutant for weeks because she had ginger hair, saying things like she was the world's lamest X-Man. A rather bold statement for someone who looked like a younger version of 'The Blob.'
So that would mean magic can make people forget things. Maybe that was another reason nobody knew anything about magic. People forget it.
Harry sat himself on one swing and started to push himself back and forth as he thought about what he had worked out. If he was right about that stuff, there were a few very important questions that needed answering. First, if magic could make someone forget things, was it something that naturally happened or was it something someone had to do, maybe like a spell? If it was something like a spell, then who was making people forget Harry telling them about the bad treatment he got at home? Why were they doing it? Were they Harry's enemy? They certainly weren't his friends.
The next question was, could Harry use this to get away from the Dursleys early? His current plan was to keep his uncle fat and slow while Dudley was off at the fancy boarding school, get as good grades as he could, and apply for every grant and scholarship he could find to get away from this hell. Joining the military was a backup option; they would take any boy aged sixteen. But this school could get him away from Vernon and Petunia sooner, though it would mean Dudley being there as well.
Harry had questions, and the only way he was going to get answers was if he met with this McGonagall woman at 11 o'clock. Harry asked a random passerby for the time and learned it was only 9:30, so there was plenty of time to go for a walk and get back to the house. He decided to walk to the local supermarket on the outskirts of the town. People had to insert a pound coin to release the trolleys there, and not everyone wanted to take their trolleys back to the bay and reclaim their pound. Harry could find two or three on a good day and his record had been six. He would push the abandoned trolleys back and pocket the coins.
Harry got two that day and spent them immediately. If Dudley found him with money, he was guaranteed to steal it, so Harry spent it straight away and either got things he could eat quickly or something Dudley wouldn't be interested in. Today was a bit of both. He bought a packet of ready-made sausage rolls, a new pen, and a cheap pocket notebook. The sausage rolls were gone before Harry finished walking back to Privet Drive, and he was jotting down his thoughts on what happened this morning before they could get jumbled up in his head.
Harry arrived back at around 10:30. He had intended to wait outside for this Minerva McGonagall, but unfortunately for him, Harry's aunt had looked out the window at the wrong time and saw him. She immediately called him inside.
"Where have you been?" She demanded as soon as he was through the door.
"I went for a walk," Harry shrugged. There was some banging from upstairs that sounded like Dudley was having a tantrum over something and was stomping his feet. Maybe he hadn't thought to listen in at the door without seeing Harry do it and was demanding to know what was going on.
"Your uncle wants to see you. He is upstairs." Petunia went back to dusting her ornaments. It was the one cleaning job she hadn't foisted off on Harry because she was convinced Harry would destroy them. To be fair, he was strongly considering doing just that the next time she made him a ham sandwich while everyone else got roast chicken or a steak for dinner.
"Why does Uncle Vernon want to see me?" Harry asked.
"Just get upstairs and don't ask questions," his aunt snapped at him.
Don't ask questions. That was the number one rule at the Dursleys, and the one Harry went out of his way to break the most. Not out loud, that would just get him punished, but if the Dursleys want him ignorant, then on principle he was going to be anything but. So he asked the questions in his own head and tried to find the answers in other ways.
Harry trudged up the stairs as slowly as he dared. If he was too slow, then Vernon would feel the need to tell Dudley to whack him with his Smeltings stick again. And if he was too fast, then the sooner he would have to spend time around Vernon and Dudley. Harry had just eaten some pork sausage rolls, he didn't want to feel conflicted about spending time with a couple of pigs.
"I don't care, Dudley. My word is final. Now help me move this stuff," Vernon's voice carried down to Harry.
"But I want it to stay where it is!" Dudley whined.
"And I want my salary doubled. We don't always get what we want," Vernon snapped. That surprised Harry. Not that Vernon could snap at people like that, he did it all the time to Harry. What surprised him was he snapped at Dudley. Harry had never heard him do that before.
"Aunt Petunia said you wanted to see me, Uncle Vernon," Harry said, standing well back from the other two. He wasn't getting anywhere near either of them in the mood they were in.
"Harry? Yes, Harry, you will be moving into Dudley's second bedroom. Now go downstairs and get your things from your cupboard and bring them up here." Vernon was going out of his way to not snap at Harry.
"Yes, Uncle Vernon." Harry didn't sound happy or disappointed. He didn't want to risk triggering either his cousin or uncle, so he just did as he was told. It wasn't hard for him to work out why this was happening. The letter that was addressed to the cupboard had brought on a wave of paranoia in the adults. If someone knew where Harry slept, then one call to the right people and the Dursleys would be in a lot of trouble. Harry had tried to get them in that trouble himself a few times, but once more nobody remembered. These witches and wizards, though, they had to have known all about both the cupboard and him trying to get help if they were going to stop that help from happening, so despite his uncle's paranoia, Harry didn't think the witches and wizards cared.
It only took Harry two trips to carry everything he owned up stairs. One for his clothes, oversized cast offs from his cousin, and one for his school supplies. Vernon had Harry hang his clothes in the wardrobe while he had Dudley take everything that he wanted from the room. It didn't take Dudley long. Most of the stuff in the room was broken. A bent air rifle, an empty birdcage, three broken alarm clocks. The only thing in here that wasn't junk that Dudley didn't remove was the bookshelf full of books that had never been touched. They were gifts Dudley got for Christmas and birthdays, but Harry wasn't even sure Dudley knew how to read. Harry at least couldn't remember ever seeing him read, and it would certainly explain Dudley's marks in school.
Before he could finish, there was a knock on the front door. Harry looked at the wall clock on the landing and saw that it was 11 o'clock on the dot. It had to be the McGonagall woman. 'Shit.' Harry thought. He had wanted to talk to the woman before his aunt and uncle could chase her off.
"Hello again Mrs. Dursley. It had been a long time since I last saw you. You have grown so much since then. May I come in?"
"No, neither of them will be attending that school. They will both be attending a normal school where they can get a real education, not lessons in turning teacups into frogs."
"Ah, I'm afraid I must insist. There are some facts that you need to be made aware of. Facts that could greatly impact the health of the two boys and could have a devastating effect on those around them. I'm afraid I'm legally required to make sure you are making an informed decision."
By this time, Harry and Dudley were both standing at the top of the stairs, watching what was going on. It was clear Aunt Petunia wasn't happy about it, but she decided to pretend that she was inviting the woman in. When she stepped in, Harry noticed she was dressed weirdly. Like it was still the forties or the fifties. It was coincidentally how old the woman looked. She stepped into the house without any worries whatsoever.
Petunia led her to the kitchen while Vernon pushed the two boys aside gently to make room for him to walk down the stairs to join his wife. Harry looked at Dudley, who looked back at him. They were both surprised the strange woman had gotten past the doorstep. The two boys walked down the stairs and joined everyone else in the kitchen. Harry wasn't worried about Dudley trying to push him down the stairs for once. There was company in the house, and they had to look normal and respectable to outsiders.
Harry went straight into the cooking half of the kitchen and, as was expected of him when there was company, he filled the kettle with water and set it to boil. While the kettle was boiling, he pulled out a tray and started setting cups, saucers, milk, sugar and the teapot on the tray. While he was doing this, he was focused on listening to the woman as she spoke.
"Considering everything I think I can skip, the 'magic is real' part of this speech, first I need to address your statement that both boys will be going to a mundane school. While you do have that option for your own son, the fact is you don't for Mr Potter. His enrollment at our school was decided by his parents before they passed. The laws of our world hold the wishes of the parents in this matter above any opinions that you may have, and our law enforcement has more than enough power that there is nothing you can do to stop it. I'm sorry to be blunt like that, but it needed to be said," McGonagall intoned, without any inflection in her voice. She wasn't threatening them, she was just stating a fact.
Vernon and Petunia both looked like they wanted to explode. Vernon said in a voice of forced calm that would have had Harry scrambling for the nearest door when he was younger, "Your laws don't apply to my wife and I. We live in a normal house, in a normal neighbourhood, and we answer to the normal government. Don't think you can just come walling in here making demands like you are the queen."
"You may be 'normal,' as you put it, but Mr Potter is a magical citizen. He was born to magical parents in a magical hospital and his birth was registered with the magical government. Also, we both know if you tried to get the non-magical law enforcement involved to back up your case, the most likely thing to happen is that you will be sent to a hospital for insane people." McGonagall said. By this point, the water was boiling and Harry poured it into the teapot with a few tea-bags.
"As to the matter of young Mr. Dursley, that is more complex. Until he is registered as a magical citizen, you are correct you have the right to decide where he goes to school and he wouldn't be considered a magical citizen until he is signed up for a magical school. However, there are a few facts that you need to be made aware of before you can make an informed decision. The first fact is that without a magical education, there is a significant chance your son will not live to see his majority," McGonagall finished seriously.
Harry got to see his aunt and uncle react in fear for the second time that day. Only this time, Dudley was reacting as well. Vernon, though, put himself between McGonagall and Dudley, arms spread to better protect him. Harry had to give his uncle one thing: the man did love his son. It was one of the few reasons Harry had to accept that the bastard was, in fact, human. "You will stay away from my son. I won't let you hurt him!" The shout was loud enough that Harry's ears hurt from the volume.
McGonagall, however, barely reacted to it, as though she had been expecting such a response. "Mr. Dursley, please. Nobody is threatening your son, I am merely pointing out a danger. It's like telling someone to wrap up warm before going walking in the snow. In this case, there are two potential dangers. Without practice and training, there is a good chance that your son will lose control of his magic. When they are children, they don't have a lot of magic and such outbursts are normally pretty tame. As your son grows, so will his magic, and then when stuff happens, it has the potential to be deadly. Not just for your son, but for others around him as well. A couple of decades ago, a muggle born witch who had no training got into an argument with her father about her choice of husband. Her emotions boiled over and her magic started throwing things. One of those things was a kitchen knife. The poor young woman accidentally killed her own mother," McGonagall said. Her explanation had everyone calming a little. They weren't fully calm, but the atmosphere felt less explosive. Harry carried the tea tray over to where the adults were sitting around the dining table.
"The other danger is what happens when someone tries to suppress their magic. It's called an Obscurial. When a person's magic is suppressed, it turns in on itself, and like a pressure pot on the stove with its valve glued shut, the pressure builds and builds until it explodes out, destroying the person and everything around them." McGonagall then took a moment to pour herself a cup of tea from the pot while everyone silently thought about what they had just been told.
Internally, Harry decided he was definitely going to attend this school. He had put too much effort into surviving the Dursleys to risk throwing it away. He also hoped UVernon's and Aunt Petunia's stubborn sides won out and that they refused to let Dudley go. Maybe Harry would have a spark of good luck and Dudley would explode, killing all three of them while Harry was away. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia both made themselves tea, the familiar ritual of it acting as a point of calm that they could use to keep their emotions in check. Being told that their son could spontaneously explode was not exactly how they expected this conversation to go.
McGonagall continued. "Now there are benefits to learning magic. The first is a longer life." Aunt Petunia snorted in disbelief. "I should be clearer," McGonagall agreed. "Absent foul play or ill health, witches and wizards live longer. The average age of death for a witch or wizard dying of old age is 150 years old. 180 years is not unheard of. I believe mundane people can currently expect to live between seventy and eighty years?" She asked, and Vernon nodded.
"That's not to mention the power your son can learn. Cleaning the kitchen with a wave of his wand." She drew her wand and waved it. The kitchen Harry was in was suddenly sparkling clean, cleaner than Harry could make it if he spent three days doing nothing else. "He could learn to duplicate items." She waved her wand again and there was now a second teapot still mostly full of steaming hot tea. "He could learn to mend a broken bone in seconds. For obvious reasons, I won't be demonstrating that. He could learn how to brew a potion to cure the common cold. In fact, I think that one is taught in the first year. He could learn to travel across the country in a second." There was a loud crack and suddenly the McGonagall woman was standing next to Harry. "He could learn how to create something from nothing." A wave of her wand had a coat rack suddenly appearing in the middle of the room. "He could learn to turn one thing into another." The coat rack was now a pug. "Or make things vanish." And the pug vanished with another wave of her wand. "What your son has is the opportunity to learn how to wield incredible power. Would you really want to throw that away?"
Harry couldn't help but be impressed with this woman. That was exactly the sort of thing that would impress uncle Vernon, showing him how Dudley had a chance to wield power. Harry could guess just what his uncle was thinking right now. He was trying to work out ways he could turn the abilities McGonagall had just talked about into massive amounts of money.
"We have already paid for Dudley to go to Smeltings. They won't refund our money. So Dudley will have to go there," Petunia said smugly, obviously thinking that that would be the end of it.
"That is no problem. I can travel to the school and convince them to send you back the money," said the woman, Harry suddenly remembered the letter calling her a professor.
"How?" asked Dudley, who was obviously starting to like the idea of having powerful magic.
"Charms that work on the mind. I will convince them that they were sent the money in error and it needs to be returned. I need to travel to Eton later today for the same reason. One of the other first-generation students joining us this year was down to attend there," Professor McGonagall said.
Unbeknownst to the professor, she had just said two things to guarantee that Dudley would be attending Hogwarts. One was that one of Dudley's soon to be year mates was down for Etton. For Dudley to be rubbing shoulders with such a person was definitely a step up from smeltings. Two was she mentioned charms that work on the mind. The deals Vernon could make if Dudley learned such charms and helped him bring round whomever Vernon was dealing with to Vernon's side of the agreement.
"Okay professor, I accept your offer for Dudley to attend your school," Vernon said, much to Harry's and Petunia's dismay.