- 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey -
Most people dream of one day being able to experience their favorite stories; whether it's for the chance to meet the characters, or to experience the world itself. Harry's dream, like many others, has always been to receive a Hogwarts Acceptance Letter.
Starting at the letter in his hands, Harry's eye drank in the elegant cursive lettering on the front as he read and re-read the writing.
Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
Even though Death had said he would be entering the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, there had always been that small voice in the back of his head wondering if it was real.
The weight of the letter in his hands grounded him to the reality of the situation, and finally cemented the fact that yes, it was very real.
'I've got to hide this!' Harry thought in a panic. As much as he wished to tear open the letter, he knew that now wasn't the time. He still had chores to do, and there was always a chance the Dursleys could walk in on him at any minute.
Looking around to make sure that the Dursleys hadn't caught him, he breathed a sigh of relief that they were too busy staring captivated at the TV screen to notice the mail had arrived. Their attention drawn to a commercial for a discount at a local restaurant echoing from the living room as the concept of more food for cheap proved too enticing for the overweight family to ignore.
Slinking to his cupboard, Harry crouched down on his knees to hide the letter underneath his cot. The small bed was too low to the ground for the any of the Dursleys to risk getting their clothes dirty just to look for anything stashed underneath it.
If there was one thing that Harry could rely on when it came to the Dursleys, it's that they'll never do something that would get them dirty unnecessarily. 'After all, why get themselves dirty when they can have me do it.' Harry thought sarcastically.
Quickly stepping out of the cupboard and shutting the door, Harry quietly retreated back outside to continue with the rest of his chores.
- Time Skip: Later That Night -
Night couldn't have fallen any sooner, in Harry's opinion. Having to wait all day for the Dursleys to tire themselves out and go to bed had been an exercise in patience. By the time they had gone to bed, he was practically shaking with excitement. The minute he heard the last bedroom door shut, he bolted towards his cupboard and shut the door, blanketing the small space in darkness.
Reaching up blindly, Harry felt for the string that would turn on the single light bulb in the cupboard. With a tug, the bulb switched on and flooded the cupboard with light.
Blinking at the sudden brightness, but thankfully now able to see properly, Harry crouched down under the cot and grabbed the letter. Getting up from the ground to sit on the small cot, Harry traced his fingers over the red wax 'H' of the Hogwarts seal before gently breaking it open.
Slowly drawing out the letter, Harry felt a rush of excitement overcome him as he began to read, committing every single word on the parchment to memory.
"
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
"
There it was, his ticket out of the cramped cupboard of 4 Privet Drive, and into a world of magic and adventure.
Scrambling for a spare piece of paper and ultimately having to tear out a single sheet of lined paper from one of his school journals, he began writing his response.
"Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall,
Thank you for the letter and acceptance into Hogwarts.
I will gladly be attending your school.
Unfortunately, I live with my relatives who know nothing about magic.
Is there someone from the school who can help me get the supplies I need?
I'm not exactly sure where I can find some of these items in London.
Best Wishes,
Harry Potter
Cupboard under the Stairs
"
Taking a moment to look over the letter and double-checking that it covered everything, he gently folded the paper in half.
'There! That should hopefully get someone to come from the school and help me get to Diagon Alley.' Harry thought. It wasn't the most fool-proof response, but it would surely peak someone's -hopefully McGonagall's- interest enough to come and meet with him. Preferably not Hagrid, though.
As much of a lovable character as Hagrid undoubtably is, the guy just didn't seem responsible enough to help answer Harry's many questions about the magical world. 'Plus, adding in my current living situation at the bottom should hopefully raise some questions from McGonagall.'
Normally, just telling someone on the street or at his old primary school about living in a cupboard would be enough to get him some help…but that just wasn't the case.
From what he could recall of Harry's early years, he had actually tried to get help from one of his teachers after he accidentally turned her hair blue.
The woman had started asking questions about his living situation, and even asked local child-services about what was going on. Only, instead of getting Harry help that he desperately needed, the woman seemed to forget everything he told her and later transferred to a different school district the very next week.
It was then that Harry realized the influence the magical world had over his life.
There were memories of shopping with his aunt and cousin, only for a strange man to bow at Harry before Petunia quickly ushered them out of the store. Another instance involved a wild-looking woman who waved merrily at Harry while on the bus before disappearing.
While the magical world seemed to be very hands-off about investigating his living situation, they made sure that anything which could draw attention to himself -and his magic- was kept well out of the way. Whether it was Dumbledore, the Ministry, or someone else behind it was anyone's guess. All Harry knew was that, if he wanted a way out of living in a cupboard, it was going to have to come from the magical world.
Quietly sneaking out the front door, Harry peered through the darkness as he tried to spot the owl he had seen this morning. Luckily, the owl was still in the same spot it had been earlier.
Waving his hand holding the letter up for the owl to see, it glanced his way for a second before silently gliding down to the ground, landing quietly as it stared up at him unblinkingly.
Glancing around to check for anyone who might be watching, Harry crouched down to hand the letter over.
The owl quickly snatched the letter in its beak before taking flight, disappearing into the night sky before he could say a word. 'Well, guess that takes care of that... I wonder how long it'll take for someone to show up.' He thought, standing up from his crouch before quietly making his way back inside.
- Time Skip: 4 Days Later -
The wait was agonizing.
Harry spent every free moment glancing out the window and looking up and down the street, waiting for the tell-tale signs of someone from Hogwarts coming to take him away. His strange behavior had drawn the attention of the Dursleys, but they didn't think to question or call him out on it. After all, he had been much more subdued the last few days, and that was always a good thing in their opinion.
Waking up on his birthday, Harry found himself taking it slow as he got out of bed. His mood having taken a down turn after staying up all night.
Frowning, Harry thought over his situation. 'In the story, Hagrid showed up when the clock struck midnight…And that was 7 hours ago…' He laid in his cot worrying if something had gone wrong, or his letter hadn't been enough to get a response from McGonagall. Before he fell into a depression, his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.
As he threw off the worn blanket filled with holes that acted as his only protection against the cold, Vernon's massive bulk had moved faster than he thought possible and was already at the door. The sound of the front door opening was followed immediately by the sound of a strict, no-nonsense voice.
"Good morning, Mr. Dursley. I'm here to speak with a Mr. Harry Potter."
By the time the person on the other side of the door had finished speaking, Harry had already opened the cupboard door and was staring at his uncle's massive form blocking his view.
Slowly, Vernon turned away from the voice to look at him. His face a disturbing shade of pale white fear, mixed with bright purple rage. Looking past his uncle, Harry got his first look at the visitor.
Standing on the other side of the doorway was a tall, black-haired witch, dressed in emerald-green robes with a stern look on her face that slowly gave way to shock.
It took him a moment to realize who she was…the Deputy Headmistress herself, Minerva McGonagall.
- Flashback: 4 Days Ago, McGonagall PoV -
Working late at night was a common occurrence for Minerva.
Being the Deputy Headmistress of a prestigious school like Hogwarts was both a great honor, and a daunting challenge. Every time the school semester was set to start, her nights became filled with piles of paperwork and last-minute problems that seemingly never ended.
'The joys of working in a magical castle.' She thought sarcastically, signing her name on another piece of parchment with a sharp flourish.
While Hogwarts played host to all of the typical challenges that any school faces: finalizing class schedules, reviewing lesson material, etc. Due to the magic of the school, it holds a whole host of additional challenges: classroom doors disappearing, statues changing locations and blocking passageways, and the truly laborious task of cleaning up at the school's resident poltergeist. All of which adding up to many sleepless nights for her, and a constantly growing pile of paperwork that she was never able to finish.
As Minerva signed off the latest stack of paperwork, the sound of an owl flying through the open window drew her attention.
Watching silently as the owl dropped a piece of paper on her desk before turning around and flying back out the window, its job finished, Minerva raised an eyebrow at having received mail at such a late hour.
Curiously, she reached across her desk to pick up the dropped paper, observing the single sheet of lined paper as if it was a strange curiosity.
Unfolding it with deft hand, Minerva began to silently read the -obviously a child's- messy script.
Reading and re-reading the letter, as if not believing what was written, she stared in particular at the last part written underneath the sender's name.
'No. They couldn't have.' Horrified at the possibility, Minerva got out of her seat and swiftly made her way out of the room. Racing across Hogwarts's dark hallways, the only light source illuminating her path coming from the many torches lining the walls throughout the castle.
Climbing the steps of a small tower, Minerva drew her wand before placing it in the small hole above the doorhandle. With a twist, she withdrew her wand as a shimmer appeared across the wood surface, before fading away as the door swung open.
Inside the small tower, sat an ancient book on a lone pedestal.
Drawing closer to the pedestal, Minerva studied the book's peeling, black dragon-hide cover and the small silver inkpot next to it. A long, faded quill protruding from the open inkpot.
The Book of Admittance was a mysterious book even to her, created centuries ago to record the names of magical children who had been accepted into Hogwarts. Next to it, the Quill of Acceptance, an artifact just as old as the book itself.
Whenever a child first exhibits signs of having magic, the Quill would leave the inkpot and attempt to inscribe the child's name upon the pages of the Book. The Book, however, only accepts the names of children who have displayed sufficiently dramatic evidence of magical ability. Should the child fail to display enough evidence, the Book will snap shut; refusing to allow the Quill to write the child's name upon its pages.
Many have wondered over the years as to the magic behind the Book and Quill. But for all its mysteries, their success is undeniable, for no non-magical child (known colloquially as a squib), has ever been accepted into Hogwarts.
Opening the book, Minerva read through the list of new student's names, her eyes flicking up and down as she read each name carefully. Near the bottom of the list, sat the one name in particular she'd been looking for.
Harry Potter
Cupboard under the Stairs
'How DARE they!' She raged, her nostrils flaring as a growl nearly tore its way from her lips.
Waving her wand, she conjured a duplicate of the page before storming out of the tower. With the duplicate in hand and her next destination set, Minerva marched on a warpath towards the Headmaster's office.
Reaching the stone gargoyle that blocked the stairway to his office, she barked out the password. "Lemon Drop!"
Angrily taping her heeled toe, she waited for the gargoyle to move out of the way. Once the way cleared, she ascended the steps leading up to the office in seconds, the solid wood door at the top of the stairway swinging open before she could reach the last step.
From the open door, a tired voice echoed from inside the room, "Do come in, Professor McGonagall."
Striding into the large office and ignoring the many curiosities lining the selves, McGonagall took a moment to look at the room's only other occupant.
Sitting behind a large wooden desk was an elderly man with long silver hair and a matching beard. His attire consisting of a purple sleeping robe dotted with yellow stars that moved across the fabric distractingly.
Glaring into the aged eyes hidden behind half-moon spectacles, Minerva ignored the tiredness that rested in them as she laid into the Headmaster.
"I warned you, Albus! I warned you that those people were the worst possible sort to place him with." She fumed, pacing back and forth in front of his desk. "I warned you that they were far too different from us. And now I find that I was right all along!
"I trusted you when you said that it was the best place for him, that he would be better off living with them than anywhere else... How foolish I was." Her words spilled out of her mouth like vitriol, leaving no room for a response until she finally ran out of breath.
It's as she went to take a breath in order to continue her tirade that Albus risked the chance to speak up. "Professor McGonagall, please…calm down…It is very late, and I am dreadfully tired." He sighed, pulling off his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. "Who is it that you are talking about?"
Glaring at him for having dared interrupt her, she gave only a single name in response. "Harry Potter."
Blinking, Albus spared a glance towards one of the shelves along the wall, taking note of the spinning contraptions on it. Seemingly satisfied, he looked back at her before raising an eyebrow in confusion, "And what, may I ask, is the problem with young Harry that you felt the need to barge into my office this late at night?" His tone made it clear that he felt there was nothing significant enough to warrant her storming in so late at night.
"This." Without any other explanation, Minerva slapped the parchment on his desk.
Sparing a questioning look at her lack of further explanation, Albus picked up the parchment, recognizing it as a duplicate of the Book of Admittance before searching for Harry's name. Finding it, he spotted the reason behind her actions.
'I see. This is…unfortunate.'
Albus gently placed the parchment back down before looking at Minerva. "You are, presumably, referring to his current living situation."
The nonchalance he displayed at what was written further incensed her. "It says his bedroom is a cupboard under the stairs, Albus! A cupboard!" Her arms waved about to emphasize her statement.
Imploringly, Albus tried to calm her down with reason. "And yet, we do not know the circumstances behind his current situation." He kept his tone calm and measured as he replied, "It could be that his bedroom is being redecorated, and he is merely spending the night in the cupboard temporarily…You know as well as I do, what strange ideas muggles come up with."
Fuming at his blasé response, Minerva pressed the issue further. "This is no mere temporary situation, Albus! Lily always lamented losing her relationship with her sister due to Petunia's hatred of magic, and the boy's letter proves it!"
Gesturing widely, Minerva exclaimed, "He says that his relatives know nothing about magic. Nothing! We both know that's a lie."
Leaning back, Albus raised both eyebrows at the new piece of information. "Ah! So he has responded to his Acceptance Letter." Reaching down into one of his desk's drawers, he pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill. "Very good! I'll assign Hagrid to leave tomorrow morning and bring young Harry to Diagon Alley for his school supplies."
"Hagrid?" Minerva frowned deeply at his words, her tone quickly becoming disapproving. "It has always been the role of the teachers to guide students of non-magical background through their first trip to Diagon Alley. They're meant to offer guidance, and answer any questions the students may have about the school…And now you plan to simply ignore this fact, and send Hagrid instead?"
That wasn't to say she had anything against the friendly, gentle half-Giant. But his wild appearance and large size tended to scare most away, and could prove disastrous if he were to meet with the magic-hating Dursleys.
Letting a small amount of disappointment color his voice, Albus replied. "Hagrid is a good man, and great with children. If you recall, Minerva, he was the one who brought young Harry from Godric's Hollow all the way to Surrey that fateful night."
"I do recall that, Albus." She replied heatedly. "And while Hagrid does have a way with children, he does not have the necessary knowledge to answer any questions a student might have about the school, or their classes!"
Pausing, Minerva tried to calm her fraying nerves before drawing herself up and pressing on. "No, Albus, not this time. I listened to you once before, but this time I'm putting my foot down. Either I go to meet Mr. Potter, or you can begin searching for a replacement Deputy Headmistress."
Her ultimatum made, she stared challengingly back at Albus.
Closing his eyes with a sigh, Albus pondered the situation. 'I have not seen her this worked up in over a decade. For her to react so strongly…perhaps it's best if I simply step back and allow her this. Hopefully, she will calm down once she sees that young Harry's situation is not as bad as she imagines it to be.'
Coming to his conclusion, he opened his eyes before staring back at Minerva. "Very well. If that is what you wish, then you may go and collect Mr. Potter yourself."
As Minerva's shoulders sag in relief, Albus continued. "However! You will wait for his eleventh birthday in a few days' time. We don't want to disturb the Dursleys lives any more than we already have. Taking him away on his birthday will allow both Harry and his relatives the chance to relax and enjoy themselves."
Nodding her head, Minerva turned her back to Albus as she headed for the door.
"And Minerva…"
Pausing at the doorway, Minerva turned to look back at Albus, noticing his weary gaze staring out the window of his office and taking in the night's sky. "I hope your fears prove to be unfounded." His voice softens, "For all our sakes."
Minerva's eyes softened as her voice became a touch gentler at his tone. "As do I, Albus." Taking her leave, the wood door closed softly behind her.
Lost in thought, Albus turned his gaze back down to the parchment still open on his table, the name Harry Potter seemingly staring up at him. 'I'm sorry for the struggles you've had to endure, my boy. And the ones yet to come…But for the Greater Good, sometimes we must all make sacrifices.'
- Flashback End -
Staring at McGonagall's shocked face, Harry strode over to her. "Hello! I'm Harry."
At the sound of his voice, McGonagall quickly schooled her features back to its natural stern visage. "May I come inside? We have much to discuss."
Hearing her question, Vernon's look of fear and anger finally settled on anger as he intruded himself into the conversation.
"Absolutely not!" He barked out, placing himself between the doorway as he raged on. "I will not have some freak come into our home! It's bad enough that we have to provide a roof over the boy's head…now you want to come and disturb our lives even more with your freakishness. No, I forbid it!" Spit flew from his mouth as his face blotted red with rage.
Losing her patience, McGonagall drew her wand out of a hidden pocket in her robes. "Step aside, Mr. Dursley... Or I will be forced to turn you into something more, agreeable."
Wand now pointed between his eyes; Vernon started to visibly shake with fear. Slowly backing away, he remained silent as McGonagall took her first steps into the house.
Keeping her want fixed on Vernon, she glanced towards Harry. "Is there somewhere we can sit down to speak?"
Nodding his head, Harry motioned her into the living room.
The two quietly sat down, Harry on the couch and McGonagall in Vernon's favorite chair. The act drawing only a small sound out of the large man as he cowered in the kitchen with Petunia and Dudley.
Petunia's face looked just a pale as Vernon's, but there was a barely contained jealousy in her eyes. At her side, Dudley merely watched on, ignorant of the situation and only keeping quiet after his father whispered heatedly "Don't say a word!" before receiving a smack to the back of the head at his whining.
Taking a moment to stare at the Dursleys, her disgust at their appearance plain in her eyes, Minerva turned her attention back to the far too small boy in the massively oversized clothes sitting patiently in front of her.
"Mr. Potter, my name is Professor McGonagall." She introduced herself.
"As you may or may not remember, I am the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts…Usually in circumstances such as yours, a teacher would be assigned to come to your house and help you collect your necessary schooling materials, while providing you with answers to any questions you may having regarding Hogwarts or the Magical World in general." Minerva spoke, her voice cultured and sophisticated as she sat primly on the edge of the chair's cushion.
"After receiving your letter, I felt it best that for your situation I come here myself." Frowning, she glanced towards the kitchen before continuing. "I apologize for any inconveniences my presence may have caused you today. If you'd prefer, we can start with any questions you may have now, or wait until we leave to ask them."
Listening as McGonagall finished her speech, Harry reflected on the new information.
'I had hoped someone other than Hagrid would come to get me, but I didn't really believe that she'd actually come herself. This…this could actually work out even better than I hoped it would.' He thought gleefully, trying not to let his feelings show as he cleared his throat.
Speaking up, Harry replied. "Thanks for taking the time to come meet me yourself, Professor. I had hoped my letter would have someone from the school come help me, but I didn't think you'd come yourself."
He smiled to try and ease the tension in the room, barely succeeding in getting a twitch from her lips, before he started on some simple questions. "What class do you teach at Hogwarts?"
Shifting in her seat, McGonagall responded. "Your thanks are appreciated Mr. Potter, but not necessary."
"It is my duty, as both the Deputy Headmistress and Professor, to ensure that all future Hogwarts students are given the necessary assistance they require in order to navigate their schooling." Her stern visage cracked slightly as she smiled gently. "As for teaching at Hogwarts, I teach a form of magic known as Transfiguration, or the art of turning one object into a completely different object."
Waving her wand at the small side table next to the couch, Harry watched on amazed as the piece of furniture turned into an adult-sized lioness. The transfigured lioness moved to rub itself against his leg gently before turning to walk over and stand in front of the Dursleys.
Making a sound in her throat to draw Harry's attention away from the animal, McGonagall continued. "In regards to your letter…" it's here that McGonagall turned to glare at the now trembling Dursleys who glanced fearfully at her and the lioness in front of them, "…we will speak more about its contents later."
Internally shouting for joy at how well this conversation was going, Harry continued asking more questions. "How is it that you were able to tell I had magic?"
"A suitable first question." She replied, taking a moment to gather her thoughts before she began.
"At Hogwarts, we have an artifact that determines the exact moment a child casts magic for the first time." She explained, shifting into her lecturing tone as she explained the process to a curious Harry.
"Usually, it happens when they are a newborn, as is the case with yourself." She nodded at him for emphasis. "Once they utilize a sufficient amount of magic for the first time, their name is written down on a list of accepted students. Once the child is of schooling age, that of eleven, they receive their Hogwarts Acceptance Letter."
Having not remembered reading about such an item in the storybooks, it came as a surprise to Harry that there was such an artifact at Hogwarts. "But what would happen if it turns out I don't have magic…that it simply made a mistake, and I'm no longer welcome at Hogwarts?"
A typical question, and one Minerva had already expected after hearing about the difficulties with the young Longbottom heir. "No student who has ever had their name added to Hogwarts Acceptance Book has been without magic. If you had proven to be non-magical, you would never have received your letter."
Seeing some lingering doubt on his face, McGonagall's tone softened as she spoke kindly to him. "Do not worry, Mr. Potter. You are as magical as any of our kind…and Hogwarts will always welcome you."
A blush crossed Harry's face at the gentleness from the normally strict woman. The smile on her face helped soften the wrinkled frown-lines on her face, and he made a passing thought that she was prettier than he realized.
Trying to ignore his embarrassment, Harry asked another question. "Is there anything I should know before I get to Hogwarts?"
Internally laughing at the boy's flustered look and obvious attempt to change the topic, McGonagall let it slide. "When you enter Hogwarts, you will be placed into one of four houses. Your house is selected based on which one is the best fit for you, and will be your home for the next seven years."
"You will be studying several different types of magic at Hogwarts, covering a wide variety of spells and incantations. As you get older, you will be given the chance to take additional classes that are separate from the standard curriculum."
Pausing to make sure she still had his attention, she continued on. "In your fifth and seventh years, you will be required to take an end of the year exam, known as O.W.L.'s and N.E.W.T.'s respectively. Should you score well on the O.W.L exam, you will be given the opportunity to take more advanced classes that will help you decide what career you wish to follow…and should you do well on your N.E.W.T. exam, you will be given the opportunity to apply for specific, higher end jobs within the Wizarding community."
That was a lot more in-depth than what Hagrid would have given. The breakdown of the exams and their relevance to his future was a useful bit of information. He made a mental note to see what opportunities he would have for jobs based on what electives he took.
'And it makes sense as to why Hermione put some much emphasis on schoolwork in the storybooks. The exams seem much more impactful on your future than they were written in the books.'
Already, Harry was reaping the benefits of changing the story.
Nodding to show that he understood the importance of what she was saying, Harry enthusiastically asked his last question. "So!…Where do we start?"
Giving a slight chuckle at his excitement, McGonagall's face quickly turned stern. "We start, Mr. Potter, by collecting the materials you'll need to attend Hogwarts."
Standing up, she turned to the Dursleys. "I will be taking Mr. Potter to buy his school supplies. We won't be returning for several hours…I trust this won't be an issue?" Her tone made it clear that the question was entirely rhetorical.
Shaking their heads, the Dursleys continued to stare fearfully at the transfigured lioness that had kept watch over their every move, afraid that any movement on their part would cause it to attack.
Wordlessly, McGonagall waved her wand at the transfiguration, changing it back into a side table before gesturing for Harry to follow her outside.
…
Once the front door was shut, McGonagall turned to Harry before holding out her arm. "Normally, you would be taken through Muggle transportation to where it is you'll be buying your school supplies from alongside your relatives."
Glancing at the front door, she tried not to lose her focus as familiar emerald-green eyes stared up at her. The boy might look like his father, but his eyes were entirely his mother's. "Given your…unique circumstances, I believe we can dispense with that and take a faster, more magical form of traveling."
Quirking an eyebrow she asked, "Do you agree?"
Seeing his nod, McGonagall continued, "Very well then. Grab onto my arm and prepare yourself." she warned. "Magical travel of this form can be discomforting the first time."
Gently grabbing onto her arm, Harry braced himself as best he could.
Seeing that he was ready, McGonagall gave one last comment as explanation. "The way we will be traveling is a common form of magical travel, known as Apparition. And it is performed like this…"
And with a soft pop, Harry and McGonagall disappear from the doorstep of 4 Privet Drive.