Progolouge

"No...James,"

Sirius came around midnight, to Godrics Hollow. The house he made

memories in, was in ruins. The door was off its hinges. The windows
were shattered. Pumpkins were destroyed. The walls were scratched.
The once so peaceful house was in ruins.

Sirius staggered. His heart filling dread, stabbing at his heart with every
step he took. The wind was creepily silent as if someone had died.

He heard the crunches of the wood as he stepped over them, the

shabbles of the door he designed just hours ago.

He took a step closer to the door, hoping with all his might that his
brother; his better brother was still alive, breathing the same air as he.
He took a step inside.

He need not look around for there laying on the stairs as if in a peaceful
slumber was the corpse of his brother, his best mate, James Potter.

"James!"

Sirius felt thick hot tears roll down his cheeks as he fell to his knees and
as he let the sorrow fill his heart.

His best friend, his brother, the man who gave him a home, the man who
is first his best friend is dead.

"No!"
He couldn't believe it. He just couldn't. He had to be alive! Sirius crawled
to the body of his best mate, his heart shattering to million pieces as he
stared into those eyes that were known to always have mischief and
happiness, that now look lifeless, devoid of all emotion.

"Please...James...Say something,"

But he got no response from the body he still clung to as if he would be

gone at any moment. But he should have known that there was no hope
as he hugged the body. He should have known that he was already gone.
That the man he clung to so desperately, was dead. Gone.

And he was met by silence. A dread he thought could never feel, filled
his heart. The pieces of his heart, felt like it was being run over.

There was a muffled sound from upstairs making Sirius look up as he

saw the stairs.

" Lily...,"

Sirius stood up, stumbling slightly, as he ran up the stairs, leaving the
body behind. He looked through the hallway.

The hallway was dimly lit and he could hardly see anything but the room
where moonlight can be seen.

Its door was also off its hinges as if someone blast through it.

He felt his heart being run over again. Harry. His godson. How could he
forget?
He ran to the nursery, feeling his sweat drop as he skidded to the front
of the door.

" Lily...,"

He felt it again. Lily, his sister's corpse was there, right there. Lifeless
and cold.

He heard another sound, this time clearer. It was from Harry's blankets.
A tiny ray of hope-filled his heart. He knew it was impossible. He knew
that his godson couldn't have survived. But if he is alive, the only other
one alive that he still loved, he would take his chances.

He slowly limped to the blankets. He could feel his heart thumping

through his chest.

He took off the blankets. He felt joy, despite his best friend and his wife
being dead, he felt elated that his godson was still alive.

There underneath the covers was Harry.

He picked his godson up and cradled him in his arms. He checked

Harry's little chest for a heartbeat and sighs in relief as he found one. He
looked over his godson.

There was a bloody scar on his forehead slightly to the left. No matter, it
could be healed instantly.

"No one will hurt you, pup. I promise," Sirius whispered into Harry's ear.
There was a sound downstairs making Sirius whip out his wand and hug
Harry to his chest. He wasn't taking any chances this time. He won't let
anyone, NO ONE, hurt his godson.

There was a bit of shuffling downstairs, and a honking sound.

"*Sniff*!"

Sirius hesitated to leave from his spot. He could tell that the person or
thing was huge and could've been Hagrid. But why would Hagrid come
here in the first place? He couldn't have known that Harry was alive
because both of his parents were dead.

But he wasn't a Gryffindor for nothing, so he got out of the room.

"Lumos,"

A light appeared from the tip of his wand, illuminating the hallway. He
quickly walked to the edge of the stairs.

A big, no HUGE silhouette could be seen near the base of the stairs,
near where James body lay.

"Ah," the figure said, blowing its nose on a table cloth, making a loud
honking noise. "Sirius,"

"Hagrid?" Sirius asked cautiously.

"Yeh, It's me Hagrid," Hagrid said reassuringly, through his tears.

"What are you doing here, Hagrid?"

"Dumbledore's orders," Hagrid replied softly. "Told me to get little
Harry,"

Those words made Sirius tighten his hold around Harry and raised his
wand higher. "I am his godfather, Hagrid. Surely Albus would
understand," he said

"Ah, but I've got me orders from Dumbledore. And he has 'is reasons"

That's true, Dumbledore always has his reasons, but Sirius wasn't just
going to give away his godson. A sudden idea popped into his mind.

"Fine but just give me a second, Hagrid," he said hurriedly. He ran back
to the room and prepared to cast a spell on Harry.

"Voca me exspectare," A black mist encircled the room starting from the
tip of Sirius' wand. It encircled the two, wind billowing, messing up the
hair of the godfather.

There was a dot in the middle of the mist. It seemed to be lengthening till
it reached the pairs foreheads. Like connecting their minds. When the
spell was done the mist faded away and Sirius was exhausted.

Sirius read the spell in the Black library when he inherited Grimmauld
place. He knew it was dark magic but he was using it for light purposes
so he wasn't really violating the rules. The spell was in a book of Dark
Spells of the Most Ancient and Noble Family of Black.

The spell will use most of your magic and you have to be a Black to
perform it. It will connect the minds of the pair, thus allowing you to
speak to the other person without the need to speak.
Sirius still had the energy to stand up though. He walked out of the
room, limped through the empty hallway and handed Harry to Hagrid.
"Take my bike, I won't need it anymore".

As he watches Harry and Hagrid fly through the night sky, Sirius thought
'If I can't see him, I can at least speak to him,'

He then transformed into a big black dog to hunt a traitor rat.

The Ten Years

(Insert scene of Harry being left at the Dursley's)

Harry Potter was left on the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive. But he didn't
know he would be bullied and he would fight back in the most rebellious ways.
Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up.

He didn't know he was going to be treated like a house elf for a decade.

He didn't know that help would find him most peculiarly. He did not know he
was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in
a few hours by Mrs Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out
the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded
and pinched by his cousin Dudley ... He couldn't know that at this very
moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their
glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter – the boy who lived!"

4 years later (Harry is 5 years old)...

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Harry woke with a start. His aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" she screeched. Harry heard her walking towards the kitchen and then
the sound of the frying pan being put on the cooker. He rolled on to his back
and tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been a weird
one. There was a flash of green light and maniacal laughter. He had a funny
feeling he'd had the same dream before.

His aunt was back outside the door. "Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry. "Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon.
And don't you dare let it burn." Harry groaned. "What did you say?" his aunt
snapped through the door. "Nothing, nothing ..."

Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks.

He found a pair under his bed and, after pulling a spider off one of them, put
them on. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs
was full of them, and that was where he slept.

When he was dressed he went down the hall into the kitchen.

Dudley's favourite punch-bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him.
Harry didn't look like it, but he was very fast.

Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had
always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and
skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of
Dudley's and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was.
Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, black hair and bright-green eyes. He
wore round glasses held together with a lot of Sellotape because of all the
times Dudley had punched him on the nose.

The only thing Harry liked about his appearance was a very thin scar on his
forehead which was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as
he could remember and the first question he could ever remember asking his
Aunt Petunia was how he had got it.

'In the car crash when your parents died,' she had said. 'And don't ask
questions.'

Don't ask questions – that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys.
Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen as Harry was turning over the bacon.

"Comb your hair!" he barked, by way of a morning greeting, well more like
morning insult. Potters don't need to comb their hair. It's fashionable as it is.
About once a week, Uncle Vernon looked over the top of his newspaper and
shouted that Harry needed a haircut.

Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put
together, but it made no difference, his hair simply grew that way – all over the
place.

Dudley arrived in the kitchen with his mother. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle
Vernon. He had a large, pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes
and thick, blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia
often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel – Harry often said that Dudley
looked like a pig in a wig.

As Harry turned over the bacon, Dudley tiptoed to the naive boy, with awful
intentions.
"Boo!"

And he let go of the bacon. And the bacon burned. All because of Dudley. But
he was still thrown into his cupboard and has no food for three days. Brilliant.

([A/N] Harry knows how to swear whenever his uncle swears whenever
he was cheering for the losing teams)

Fucking Dursleys! They knew exactly what happened! he thought angrily

In Azkaban...

Sirius was just swayed back and forth, with his knees bent up to his chest, up
in his cell in Azkaban. "I am innocent, I am innocent," he kept muttering to
himself.

He was just going to finish the next sentence when a sudden angry voice
bellowed in his head.

Fucking Dursleys! They knew exactly what happened!

Now he actually wondered if he was going insane. Because there was a little
familiarity in his voice, that reminded him of James a bit.

James?

Back at the cupboard...

James?

Harry was startled as he heard the voice, stopping his rambling about the
stupid Dursleys. He thought back:
 Who are you? Where are you?

I am Sirius Black. Who are you?

Harry James Potter. But first of all, how are you speaking to me?

There was a long pause as the other man seemed to be finding an answer.
But way back at Azkaban, at this very moment, Sirius was realizing that he
was very very stupid: No, more than stupid, for forgetting that he can actually
speak to his godson at any given time.

Merlins Balls...

Sir...

Yes?

I am five years old.

Kid, you yourself fucking swore.

Sir!

Yes I know, I know. Just let me explain.

Alright... Go on.

Kid, I am your godfather. I put a spell-

But magic isn't real!

Pup, how do you think I'm talking to you right now?

 Oh...sorry.

Back in Azkaban...

Sirius smiled for the first time in 4 years as he talked and explained to his
godson everything. And when I mean everything, I mean everything. The
secret keeper mishap, about his parents, the maruaders, Hogwarts, Hagrid,
Dumbledore. And it makes him laugh as he realized how innocent his godson
is.

Well, as innocent as one can be when swearing.

And this is what he did early the next day. Talking to his godson.

Though reluctant at first, Harry actually opened up to him. As he knew he

would, with him bugging his godson at any given moment.

The dementors guarding his cell thinking that he had finally gone mad, what
with the sudden unexplainable laughter and smiles, is satisfied and doesn't
come by often anymore.

Pup, are you fine?

It was the Monday morning and Sirius felt as if he and his godson need a
morning talk.

Yes. If you count the outcome of being thrown into cupboard fine. Yes, I am.

Wait... WHO THREW YOU INTO A CUPBOARD?!

Um, the Dursleys. But that's normal. Isn't it? I did burn the water.

Wait...you burned the water?

 Yeah...

Fantastic!

(4 years later [Harry is 9 years old]) At Privet Drive...

Harry chuckled as Sirius made another serious joke.

Throughout the years', Harry got corrupted by Sirius. But if asked, Sirius
would just say "Hey, I'm a good influence on him." Leading to how he got his
prankster personality. Sirius constantly egging him on to prank his cousin
could do wonders. And how he got sassy? He was sassy in the first place, he
just got a little bit sassier.

Sirius got used to Harry being with the Dursleys 'care', but told Harry that they
are still on his hit list when he gets out of Azkaban. The Dursleys still give
Harry chores, sometimes more than necessary.

Harry grew, with the help of Sirius, confident and healthy. He sneaked out,
stealing some money from his uncle to the market where they sell food.

Though there was one time when he was sneaking out, he figured out he was
a metamorphmagus.

*Flashback*

Harry as usual was sneaking out at broad daylight heading to the market. He
stole some clothes from Dudley so he looked okay. A bit baggy but he had to
look presentable. He kicked a small pebble out of his way as he walked.
The weather today was cloudy and the wind blew threw his hair. Harry looked
around the parking lot as he passed it. There were not many cars in the
parking lot seeing as the weather looked like it could rain at any moment.

He thought he saw a familiar car but he wasn't too sure so he ignored it.

Walking past the sign, he entered the market and looked for bread rolls. But
as he was walking towards the said food he saw a glimpse of two walrus
looking men and a giraffe looking woman. In other words the Dursleys.

He panicked and looked to find for an exit. They can't know he was stealing
money from them or he'd be stuck inside the cupboard for weeks without food.
And he was promising Sirius he'd eat healthily. Oh, if only there was a way to
look like Josh O'Connor from the celebrity shows he watched. He tried to
remember the celebrity's look in the finest detail.

All of sudden Dudley's clothes seem to fit him. His skin seemed to be gaining
a bit more weight. His eyes became blurry so he took off his glasses, his hair
seemed to change its style too.

Padfoot!

Yes, pup?

Something is going on. I think its accidental magic but its really strange.

Pup, all accidental magic is strange.

There was a sudden gasp behind him and he whipped around to see his
whale of a cousin pointing at him as if in awe.

"Mum! It's him! Its Josh O'Connor!"

He looked at him strangely and walked away. All around him people gasped
and pointed at him whispering about " Look Josh O'Connor is really here!" or
"Is that really him?".

No, it's not the normal strange. People around me think I'm Josh O'Connor

Pup, did you look in the mirror?

Of course, I did! What did you think?

That I'd come to a store in a swimming suit and see-through plastic jeans?

Course not!

Well, what are you trying to point out?

Harry just left the section where the Dursleys were and headed for the
bathroom. He took a seat on the toilet.

Well, can you look at the mirror right now?

Fine.

Harry looked at the mirror to see the most surprising sight. He did look like
Josh O'Connor!

MERLINS BALLS!

Well?

I LOOK LIKE JOSH O'CONNOR!

See, kid. What did I tell you about looking in the mirror?-Wait.

You do look like him?

...

Oh, right. I forgot to tell you, you're a metamorphagus.

I'm a what?

Harry ran a hand through his hair, just to sure that it's real. Sirius explained
everything about being a metarmorphmagus, like how to change appearances
and such.

So what your saying is that I can be anyone?

Anyone.

Brilliant!

I remember seeing your hair turn red for the first time,

I was so confused to the point where I asked Minnie if I can to the library
for a bit.

Okay

, so now if I look like him

I can buy every single fine food in this store and nobody will complain.

I like how you're thinking, pup.

Harry walked out of the bathroom casually and raided the shop. He took the
bread, the cooked chicken, barbeque, veggies etc. And nobody even whined
that he took too many food.

After that, he just went out of the store not even paying for it.

He went back to the Dursleys house safe and sound with food that can last
the whole month.

Flashback Over

So that's how Harry figured out he was a metarmorphmagus and he took

advantage of it. In every possible way.

Chapter 1

Harry Potter as usual was sleeping at 6 am, until he was interrupted by his
giraffe of an aunt.

"Get up! Now!" she bellowed. Or maybe vulture. Merlin only knows how she is
still thin with whatever she ate with her whale of a son and husband. Harry
opened his green eyes as the sound of tapping feet and a pan placed on the
stove was on the other side of his door. He looked at his stack of food
longingly wishing that he was up earlier so he could have had his breakfast.

Petunia was back and banging on the door. "Get up! And watch over the
bacon! And don't you dare make a single one burn! I want everything perfect
for Duddykins birthday!"
Harry groaned as Petunia rapped on the door again. "What did you say?!" she
screeched.

"Nothing, Petunia,"

He didn't dare call her aunt. She didn't deserve it anyway, with all she did to
him. And of course, how could he forget Dudleys birthday. His hair turned an
angry red at the prospect. He didn't even want the toys and still complains
about not having enough. He prepared for a temper tantrum the whale's
gonna give the whole house, or luckily maybe just Vernon and Petunia. His
hair returned to its messy black and streaks of white, at the thought.

He picked a sock and put it on. During the last years, he decided that he
would clean up his cupboard. So there were no more spiders. He looked at
the grey t-shirt (I know you know that it was THE t-shirt) he wore last night and
changed into a baggy hand-me-down from the Dursleys.

Since it was 'Duddykins' birthday, all the attention would be on Dudley. But he
couldn't be too sure. So to look like he didn't just steal, he wore the
hand-me-downs so it looked like he didn't have any other choice.

He looked at the food longingly one more time before heaving himself up. His
head bumped on the ceiling of the cupboard.

As he promised Sirius he did grow healthy. His height was average for his age
but the cupboard was still small.

"Ow!" he said quietly.

He rubbed the spot on his head, messing up his already messy hair. He
opened the door and went to the kitchen. It was, as always, spotless. Thanks
to Harry, though the Dursley keep bragging it was their work, the kitchen was
spotless.

He went over to the stove and carelessly handled the pan. (Don't worry its
muscle memory. He won't get burned.)

He flipped the bacon carelessly. And dropped it.

Whoops, there goes the bacon, just like how much I give a fuck.

Mornin, pup.

What got you riled up in this ungodly hour?

Oh, did you forget?

What did I forget?

Its 'Duddikins' birthday.

Well, I'm happy I forgot.

I regret being reminded.

He rolled his eyes as Vernon entered the living barking at him to "Cut your
hair! It's unnatural!"

Not that he needed a haircut, he could always shorten his hair whenever he
liked, though the Dursley never knew that. For some reason the whites strips
of his hair, he can't really change the colour so whenever the hair changes
colour there was always a white strip of hair, no matter what.
"The only abnormal thing is your chin. It's gone," he grumbled under his
breath as he carelessly flipped the bacon again.

Way back at Hogwarts...

"Ah, Minerva. Take a seat." Dumbledore said, with a smile, gesturing to the
seat in front of his desk. "Would you like a lemon drop?"

Minerva shook her head as she made her way to the seat.

"Minerva is it alright if you spy on Harry?" Dumbledore asked, getting straight

to the point, as Minerva sat on the seat.

Minerva raised an eyebrow curiously. "Why Albus?" she asked.

"Well," Dumbledore started. "I do not really trust the Dursleys as much as you
think I do."

At this Minerva relaxed. Ah, Albus was coming back to his senses, she
thought.

"Alright. I will spy on Harry in my animagus form. Then what, Albus? Surely
this is more than just lack of trust."

"I have reasons to believe that the Dursleys are keeping the knowledge of our
world out of the sight of Harry. So if anything happens tell me immediately,
Minerva."

"Of course, Albus. I'll be on my way. Oh, and I just checked the register and
seemed Harry will be getting his letter (next chapter). Goodbye Albus," she
said, walking towards the door.
When she was out of the door she made her way to Hogsmeade to apparate
to Privet Drive

Back at Privet Drive...

"36?!"

Harry rolled his eyes. That's more clothes than the Dursleys ever gave him.

"BUT LAST YEAR!-LAST YEAR!-I HAD 38!" Dudley struggled to make a

complete sentence.

Pup, you're mentally growling.

He is throwing a fit for not having more presents than last year,

That kid's spoiled.

Thank for pointing that out, Captain Obvious.

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this
big one from Mummy and Daddy," Petunia said.

"All right, thirty-seven then,' said Dudley, going red in the face. Harry, who
could see a huge Dudley tantrum nearby, began wolfing down his bacon as
fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over.

Petunia obviously saw the danger too, because she said quickly "And we'll
buy you another two presents while we are out today. How's that, Popkin?"

Harry mentally snorted at the nickname.

"Two more presents. Is that alright?"

Dudley seemed to be thinking for a moment. Which looks really hard work for
him, Harry thought. Harry looked around. It seemed as if he was being
watched.

His eyes widened as he saw the tabby cat, with spectacle marking under her
eyes, sitting on the window sill of the kitchen. He blocked out the sound of the
Dursleys as he watched the cat staring back at him curiously.

All of a sudden he remembered the time when Sirius told him about Minnie
Mcgie (Minerva Mcgonagall). The professor who can turn into a tabby cat. He
said he was responsible for every grey hair on her head.

Padfoot.

Yes, pup?

What does cat Minnie look like again?

Well, she has a spectacle markings under her eye.

That's all I can really remember. I don't really look at her cause the only
thing I do next is run.

Where Minerva's sitting...

Minerva was seated at the window sill of the Dursley kitchen, in her animagus
form. To say she was disgusted wasn't enough. The Dursleys certainly don't
know how to raise a child properly. The child was 11 and didn't know how to
add 2 to a number, for merlin's sake!

She was curious when she caught the eyes of the son of her two most
favourite students.
Though she was most intrigued when there was a flash of recognition in his
eyes as he looked at her. The only possible reasons are that either the
Dursleys did tell him about magic or one of the wizards that met him passing
by told him.

Judging by the Dursleys behaviour and personality it was most likely the last
option. Her annoyance towards the unknown wizard grew slightly. They could
have been heard!

She listened closely as the Dursleys seemed to be talking.

Mr Dursley chuckled.

"Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. Atta boy, Dudley!" He
ruffled Dudley's hair.

Minerva scrunched up her face in disgust.

At that moment the telephone rang and Mrs Dursley went to answer it while
Mr.Dursley watched the child unwrap a racing bike, a muggle-camera, an
aeroplane, sixteen new discs and a muggle-video recorder.

He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Mrs Dursley came back
from the telephone, looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him."
She jerked her head in Harry's direction. The child's mouth fell open in horror
but Harry's face seemed hopeful.

Where Harry's sitting...

Every year on Dudley's birthday his parents took him and a friend out for the
day, to adventure parks, hamburger bars or the cinema. Every year, he was
left behind with Mrs Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry
hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs Figg made him
look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned. She even pointed out a
lot that his hair is the same colour as her cats.

And he can't go to his cupboard to get some real food.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd
planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs Figg had broken her
leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year
before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr Paws and Tufty again.

Padfoot.

What is it, pup?

I might be able to go to the zoo today.

And can you tell me the story when you went to the zoo before?

Of course!

Story (No one's POV):

The Maruaders were at a muggle zoo.

Sirius is pretending that he's never heard of any of the animals. He made
Remus explain what giraffe is. Peter gets into a very heated staring contest
with a snake. James makes a mental note to check on him later because no
one should get that angry at a reptile.
Remus is a little sore from the full moon so he's leaning on Sirius. A little more
than he needs to be, but Sirius isn't complaining.

Suddenly, James let out a very undignified squeak. The other three boys rush
over to the enclosure he's looking into. Standing in the centre, looking very
bored, was a STAG.

James is sniffing, and Sirius looked aghast. Remus and Peter looked each,
half rolling their eyes, half plotting.

Remus then says:

"Men, our time has come. We must enter into the greatest battle that's known
to mankind."

James perks up.

Peter picks off where Remus left off. "Indeed. We must free this stag from the
irony of zoo life!"

Sirius was grinning.

"Never again shall a dear be enslaved!" James shouted.

The boys find the gate to the enclosure and unlocked it with not-so-discreet
magic. Sirius opens the gate dramatically. The stag continued to look bored.

They yell at it. It looks the other way.

They spend the next two hours trying to convince it to leave what Sirius
deems as 'glorified prison'. Eventually, James transformed and the deer took
one look at Prongs and walked away.
The boys give up.

James is sad for about two minutes.

Before he sees an ice cream cart.

(End of story)

Then he bought the whole ice cream cart for your mum to eat at
Hogwarts.

Harry was trying and failing to conceal his smile as Sirius told the story.

Really?! Dad was that eager?!

Oh, he was. Like I told you.

Keeps on going to all sort of mischief to impress your mum.

"What about whats-her-name, your friend – Yvonne?"

"On holiday in Majorca," snapped Petunia.

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully (he'd be might be able
to talk with Minnie.) Petunia looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"I won't blow up the house," argued Harry indignantly, but they weren't
listening.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "... and
leave him in the car ..."
"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone ..."

Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying, it had been years
since he'd really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed,
his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Dinky Duddydums,"

Harry snorted again.

"Don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her
arms around him.

"I ... don't want ... him ... t-t-to come!' Dudley yelled between huge pretend
sobs. "He always sp-spoils everything!" He shot Harry a nasty grin through the
gap in his mother's arms.

Harry rolled his eyes in a manner of 'I don't care' and sneaked a glance
toward the tabby cat again. That surely wiped the grin off Dudleys face cause
he always wanted to make Harry feel horrible.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

"Oh, Good Lord, they're here!" said Petunia frantically. A moment later,
Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother. Piers was a
scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's
arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them.

Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Harry silently snickered.

Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his fate, was sitting in the back
of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first
time in his life. Petunia and Vernon hadn't been able to think of anything else
to do with him, but before they'd left, Vernon had taken Harry aside.

"I'm warning you," he said, putting his large purple face right up close to
Harry's. Harry leaned back cause he didn't to be anywhere near the whales
face. "I'm warning you now, boy – any funny business, anything at all – and
you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

It wasn't really a problem to Harry, cause he has food that could last him
weeks and he could pick at the lock at any time of the day. But he decided to
play around a bit.

Harry stepped back, out of Vernon's arms reach, as he smirked up at him. "Of
course not." He said innocently. "Not with all the audience. But no promises,"
and he dodged Vernon's arms - and slipped in the car.

When Vernon went in the car his face seemed a shade more purple.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to

complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank and
Harry were just a few of his favourite subjects. This morning, it was
motorbikes. " ... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as
a motorbike overtook them.

"I had a dream about a motorbike," said Harry, grinning. Of course, he knew
what was gonna happen if he said the next sentence. But he just loved getting
the reaction out of them! Hey, his father is James Potter and his godfather is
Sirius Black, what else do you expect? So yolo.

"It was flying." Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned
right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beetroot
with a moustache, "MOTORBIKES DON'T FLY!" Harry had to press his lips
together to stop himself from bursting out laughing.

"I know they don't. It was only a dream," he said reassuringly. But he knew it
wasn't a dream. Sirius had told him about Hagrid and how he got in this family
in this family in the first place.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families.

The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice-creams at the
entrance and then because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what
he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon
ice lolly. It wasn't bad, but he had better, Harry thought, licking it as they
watched a gorilla scratching its head and looking a whole lot like Dudley,
except that it wasn't blond.

-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-
=-=-==-===-=-=-=-=-=--==-=-=-=-==-=-==-

After lunch, they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in here, with lit
windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes
were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. The two buffoons
(aka. Dudley and Piers) wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick,
man-crushing pythons. Probably to see any of them can squeeze the fat out of
their large stomachs, Harry thought.

Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place. It could have wrapped its
body twice around very Vernon's car and crushed it into a dustbin. At the
moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep.

Dudley stood with his fat nose pressed against the glass, staring at the
glistening brown coils.
"Make it move," he whined, flailing his thick fat arms.

Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his
knuckles, but the snake just slept on. "This is boring," Dudley moaned. He
shuffled away.

Harry moved in the front of the enclosure and looked at the snake. The
snakes opened its eyes as if it sensed his presence.

Harry then had an idea.

§ I challenge you to a staring contest! § he exclaimed, saying it in parsel

mouth absentmindedly.

The snake, to his surprise, nodded and raised his head to his eye level, and
looked him in the eye.

.
.

=--==-=-=- -=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=5 minutes

later-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=--=--=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-

Harry's eye were watering slightly as he told Sirius about the situation.

Pads, I'm in a staring contest with a snake.

I hope you win that, pup.

=--==-=-=- -=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=4 minutes

later-=-=-=--=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-=-=--=--=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=-=-

Harry about to blink, decided that this competition really isn't fair. The snake's
an animal for merlin's sake! Harry tapped the glass quickly. The snake blinked
out of shock.

Harry grinned in triumph. He starts doing a little victory dance.

§ Not fair! § the snake hissed.

§ Where do you come from anyway? § Harry hissed, trying to change the
subject, cause if this snake knows how to come out of his cage – he would
rather keep his head where it's supposed to be – rather than it being in a
snakes stomach when he leaves this zoo.

The snake rolled his eyes as if knowing what he was thinking and jabbed its
tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it.

Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

§ Was it nice there? §

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on:

This specimen was bred in the zoo.

§ Oh, I see – so you've never been to Brazil? §, he asked.

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of
them jump. "DUDLEY! MR DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE!
YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Harry looked around to see Dudley, looking like a pig, waddling towards him.
The buffoon punched him on the ribs and onto the floor.

Harry glared with as much hatred as he could muster at the two buffoons.
What came next happened so fast no one saw how it happened – one
second, Piers and Dudley were leaning right up close to the glass, the next,
they had leapt back with howls of horror.

Harry realized it in a second – KARMA, BITCHES! Harry grinned as he saw

the glass front of the boa constrictor's

tank had vanished. The great snake was uncoiling itself rapidly, slithering out
on to the floor – people throughout the reptile house screamed and started
running for the exits. In short – it was chaos.

As the sneaky snek slid swiftly past him, Harry could have sworn he heard
him hiss, § Brazil, here I come ... Thanksss, amigo. §

§ No problem. Happy yoloing. § he hissed back.

The keeper of the reptile house was in shock. "But the glass," he kept saying,
"where did the glass go?"

As everything was being fixed out, Dudley was telling them how it had nearly
bitten off his leg, while Piers was swearing it had tried to squeeze him to
death, all the way down to the car. As far as Harry had seen, however, the
snake hadn't done anything except snap playfully at their heels as it passed. It
was fair play – Dudley annoyed him –he scared Dudley. It was fair.

Piers calmed down enough to say, "Harry was talking to it, weren't you,
Harry?"

Harry though, was in a very happy mood cause he just created total chaos for
the first time - and may I add that he did it successfully- and said carelessly
"Oh I don't know what you're talking about. I was only starring at the snake –
enjoying the peace – until 'Duddikins' decided to punch me on the ribs –
leading to me on the floor – and whatever happened next is not my fault."

Vernon waited until Piers was safely out of the house before starting on Harry.
He was so angry he could hardly speak.

He managed to say, "Go – cupboard – stay – no meals," before he collapsed

into a chair and Aunt Petunia had to run and get him a large brandy.

And so Harry went to the cupboard with a new spring in his step. He picked up
a journal that lay on the shelf of the cupboard. On the front with big bold
letters that said:

Harry Potter's Pranks Journal

(First entry on September 1, 1991/Last entry on January 30, 1998)

He ran his hands across the journal. He bought the book when he was nine
years old, telling Sirius that he would write down every single prank he pulled
in his Hogwarts years.

He wished he could write what he did just moments ago. But, sadly, he still
hasn't gotten his letter. So he slept, wishing that his birthday would come
faster and that the owl didn't just accidentally drop his letter. And that the
sneaky snek can find his way home.

(See the picture right here. This is his natural hair.)

He flipped the bacon like this.

Chapter 2

The escape of the Brazilian boa constrictor earned Harry his longest-ever
punishment, not that it mattered. He sneaked out, one or three times but the
only thing that mattered is that he didn't get caught.
By the time he was allowed out of his cupboard again, the summer holidays
had started and Dudley had already broken his new cine-camera, crashed his
remote-control aeroplane and, first time on his racing bike, knocked down old
Mrs Figg as she crossed Privet Drive on her crutches.

And oh! It was a horrible sight, seeing his cousin on a bike. He swore the
metal was bending when he sat on it!

Harry was glad that school was over, with all the useless Homework he had to
do. He was expecting his letter any day now. His 11th Birthday was just a few
days around the corner.

When September came he would be going off to secondary school, though he

doubted it immediately cause he already had a school in mind, and fortunately
he wouldn't be with Dudley. Dudley had a place at Vernon's old school,
Smeltings.

Piers Polkiss was going there, too. Harry, on the other hand, was going to
Stonewall - JK! Its Hogwarts though he never told the Dursleys he was going.
Eh, they wouldn't notice. They thought he was going Stonewall High, anyway.

Dudley thought this was very funny. "They stuff people's heads down the toilet
first day at Stonewall," he told Harry, despite the fact he's never been to
Stonewall High.

"Want to come upstairs and practise?"

"No thanks," said Harry dramatically, eyes widening for more effect. He put his
hand on the right side of his chest.
"The poor toilet's never had anything as horrible as your head down it - it
might be sick." Then he ran before Dudley could work out what he'd said. And
if he did. Well, that's an achievement for him.

One day in July, Petunia took Dudley to London to buy his Smeltings uniform,(
it would surely take a lot of time due to how fat Dudley is, thought Harry), is
leaving Harry at Mrs Figg's.

Mrs Figg wasn't as bad as usual. It turned out she'd broken her leg tripping
over one of her cats and she didn't seem quite as fond of them as before. She
let Harry watch television and gave him a bit of what looked like cake but
drastically didn't taste like one.

There was a horrible smell in the kitchen the next morning when Harry went in
for breakfast. It seemed to be coming from a large metal tub in the sink. He
went to have a look.

The tub was full of what looked like dirty rags swimming in greywater.

"What's this?" he asked Petunia.

Her lips tightened as the always did if he dared to ask a question. But as
always he didn't have an ounce of his mind that cared.

"Your new school uniform," she said.

Harry looked in the bowl again.

"Oh," he said. "I didn't realise it had to be so wet."

"Don't be stupid," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"I'm dyeing some of Dudley's old things grey for you. It'll look just like
everyone else's when I've finished."

"I seriously doubt that students' parents let them wear that," he said pointedly.

Just then Dudley and Uncle Vernon came in, both with wrinkled noses
because of the smell from the new 'uniform'. More like elephant skin, Harry
thought.

Uncle Vernon opened his newspaper as usual and Dudley banged his
Smeltings stick, which he carried everywhere, on the table.

They heard the click of the letter-box and flop of letters on the

doormat.

"Get the post, Dudley," said Uncle Vernon from behind his paper.

"Make Potter get it."

"Get the post, boy."

"Make the buffoon get it."

"Poke him with your Smeltings stick, Dudley," Vermin said hotly. (I did that on
purpose.)

Harry dodged the Smeltings stick and went to get the post.

Three things lay on the doormat: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister Marge,
who was holidaying on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like a
bill and - one big envelope for Harry.
On the back of the envelope was lettering in big green letters said

Mr H. Potter

The Cupboard under the Stairs

4 Privet Drive

Little Whinging

Surrey

It has finally arrived! His Hogwarts letter! About time too! It was just a few
days before his birthday.

He ran back to the living room, threw the letters at Vermin's face, and ran back
to his cupboard.

He was safe there at least.

PADFOOT!

MY HOGWARTS LETTER ARRIVED!

CONGRATULATIONS!

I will need to plan my escape out of here soon too!

How you will escape though?

Just then the cupboard door opened. And behind - standing on all his
only-shit-worth glory - was Vermin Dursley.
His eyes went to the letter in Harry's hand. He lunged for it.

"BOY! GIVE ME THAT LETTER!" he bellowed.

"Never! It's mine!" Harry yelled as he tried to kick the Vermin out of his
cupboard.

Vermin, unfortunately, due to his size, seized the letter put of Harry's hand and
banged his cupboard close. The sound of a locking door echoed through the
hallway.

Minerva POV

Minerva was, again, watching the scene happen before her. She watched
Harry argue with the Dursleys. She has a tingling feeling that this child she
was watching was going to be like his father in more than just looks.

She squashed the feeling down though. You can never be sure. She still
hoped he would be like Lily.

She watched as Harry dodged the stick to get the mail.

She groaned when he ran back to the kitchen, only to throw two letters at Mr
Dursley's face. It was amusing, to be honest, but all the hope went down the
drain. When Harry ran back to his cupboard with a grin the hope was in the
deepest sewers.

Mr Dursley went purple and picked up the letters that fell onto the ground.

She watched in loathing as Mr Dursley seized the letter away from Harry. She
would need to tell Albus to create more letters.
The sound of the door locking brought her back to earth.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-5 hours
later-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Harry POV

Harry threw the apple he has been eating to the bin he placed in his
cupboard. He was thinking about ways to, as he says "justify the playing field"
when Vermin opened the door.

"Wher is my letter?" Harry asked as soon as Vernon squeezed through the

door.

"Burned it. It was addressed to you by mistake,"

"It wasn't a mistake!" shouted Harry furiously. His hair was slowly turning an
angry red. How dare they burn his letter! It wasn't even theirs! "It had my
cupboard on it!"

"SILENCE!" roared Vernon.

He took a few deep breaths and then forced his face into a smile, which
looked quite painful. Well, he himself wouldn't smile at the Dursleys and if he
was, he was being imperiod.

"Er - yes, boy - about this cupboard. Your aunt and I-" [Which Harry mentally
disagreed at]"- have been thinking ... you're really getting a bit big for it ... we
think it might be nice if you moved into Dudley's second bedroom."

"Why?" said Harry.

"Don't ask questions!" snapped his uncle. "Take this stuff upstairs, now."

Harry used his jacket to hide his food and decent clothes as he carried it to
the buffoon's room.

He sat down on the bed and stared around him. Nearly everything here was
broken. He thought the buffoon could at least have 10 brain cells to at least
know that money wasn't infinite.

The month-old cine-camera was lying on top of a small, working tank Dudley
had once driven over next door's dog; in the corner was Dudley's first-ever
television set, which he'd put his foot through when his favourite programme
had been cancelled; there was a large bird-cage which had once held a parrot
that Dudley had swapped at school for a real air-rifle, which was up on a shelf
with the end-all bent because Dudley had sat on it.

Other shelves were full of books. They were the only things in the room that
looked as though they'd never been touched.

He thought at least to skim through the books if they are worthy to bring to
Hogwarts if he ever got bored.

From downstairs the sound of a bawling baby was heard.

"I don't want him there...I need that room..."

Ha! He only uses this room as a trash can. He hardly needs it. He already has
his yet-to-be-broken toys in his own room. His thoughts were broken by a
stupid voice.

"Make him get out!"

Harry rolled his eyes as he stretched out on a proper bed.

Pup? Are you alright?

Yeah.

They burned my Hogwarts letter, but I'm sure Minnie saw it.

I might get another one tomorrow.

Aw, well. I hope you do get one tomorrow, pup.

The next morning at breakfast, everyone was rather quiet. Dudley was in
shock.

He'd screamed, whacked his father with his Smeltings stick, been sick on
purpose, kicked his mother and thrown his tortoise through the greenhouse
roof and as expected, still didn't have his room back.

Harry was thinking about this time yesterday and bitterly wishing he'd opened
the letter in the hall. ( Reason he isn't in Ravenclaw, )

Vernon and Petunia kept looking at each other darkly. Harry knew why. They
read his Hogwarts letter. And they were trying to keep him going to Stonewall
High.

He knew this wasn't happening any time soon. From what he heard,
Dumbledore was a persistent man; who would let anyone into his school as
long as they can do magic.
When the post arrived, Vernon, who seemed to be trying to be nice to Harry,
made Dudley go and get it. They heard him banging things with his Smeltings
stick all the way down the hall.

Then he shouted, "There's another one! Mr H. Potter, The Smallest Bedroom,

4 Privet Drive -"

With an animal-worthy cry, Uncle Vernon leapt from his seat and ran down the
hall, Harry right behind him.

Uncle Vernon had to wrestle Dudley to the ground to get the letter from him,
which was made difficult by the fact that Harry had grabbed Uncle Vernon
around the neck from behind.

After a minute of confused fighting, in which everyone got hit a lot by the
Smeltings stick, Uncle Vernon straightened up, gasping for breath, with
Harry's letter clutched in his hand.

If Harry wasn't sent back to his bedroom fast enough, the Dursleys would've
all seen his hair turn an angry red.

Once Harry slammed the bedroom door close in anger, one of the books
Dudley had sitting on a lone shelf burst into flames. The arm-clock, that was
hanging on the wall was shaking.

Harry seethed, hurrying to put the fire out.

He took the blanket on the bed and started swatting the burning book until it
vanished.

He groaned as he face-planted on the bed.

Minnie knew he had moved out of his cupboard and she surely knows he
hadn't received his first letter. Surely that meant she'd try again?

And this time he'd make sure she didn't fail. He had a plan.

The repaired alarm clock rang at six o'clock the next morning.

Harry turned it off quickly and put on socks silently. He mustn't wake the
Dursleys. He sneaked downstairs without turning on any of the lights.

( He could've just opened the window. Well, that's another one of the reasons
he is not in Ravenclaw, )

He was going to wait for the owl on the corner of Privet Drive and get the
letters for number four first.

His heart hammered as he crept across the dark hall towards the front door -
"AAAAARRRGH!"

Harry leapt into the air. He stepped on a big and squashy thing on the
doormat. The thing wriggled and he stepped aside to see a figure which
seemed to be in a sleeping bag.

The figure unzipped the sleeping bag and the figure stood up revealing itself
to be - VERMIN!!!!

It seems that Vernon has slept here to prevent from doing what he was doing.

After a 1 hour screaming match, Vernon ordered Harry to make him a cup of
tea.
As Harry went to give Vernon his tea, the doorbell rang and three envelopes
of Hogwarts letters fell from the letterbox - right into Vernon's lap.

Through the dark, though Vernon didn't see it cause he was too focused on
ripping the letters, Harry's hair turned once more an angry red.

Vernon didn't go to work that day. He stayed at home and nailed the letterbox.

"See," he explained to Petunia through a mouthful of nails. Now that's

abnormal if you ask me, Harry thought.

"If they can't deliver them, they'll just give up,"

"I'm not sure that will work Vernon,"

Finally, the woman is right in one thing, Harry thought again. He was spying
on the scene from the top of the stairs.

"Oh, these people's minds work in strange ways, Petunia, they're not like you
and me," said Vernon, trying to knock in a nail with the piece of fruit cake,
Petunia had just brought him.

He's gone mad.

Who?

Vernon,

The man was always mad,

*
On Friday, no fewer than twelve letters arrived for Harry. As they couldn't go
through the letter-box they had been pushed under the door, slotted through
the sides and a few even forced through the small window in the downstairs
toilet.

Harry was impressed with owls. How did they even push it through? He knew
that owls were smart, but this just made him want an owl right away. Or it was
just Minnie who did it.

Uncle Vernon stayed at home again. After burning all the letters, he got out a
hammer and nails and boarded up the cracks around the front and back doors
so no one could go out. He hummed'Tiptoe Through the Tulips' as he worked,
and jumped at small noises.

"Just wait until Sunday. There is no post - "

At Hogwarts...

"- on Sundays, he said," Minerva recounted the story to Dumbledore.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled once more and he said "Thank you for telling this
Minerva. You may go,"

Once Minerva left, Dumbledore said loudly, "CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!"

Back at Privet Drive...

On Sunday morning, Vernon sat down at the breakfast table looking tired and
rather ill, but happy.

"No post on Sundays," he reminded them happily as he spread marmalade on

his newspapers, "no damn letters today -"
Something came whizzing down the kitchen down the fireplace and as he
spoke hit Vernon on the back of his head.

Harry looked at the fireplace eagerly. Amazing! Dumbledore really knows how
to impress children like him! And by the way of how these letters are coming,
it seems that Dumbledore was once a prankster himself. That would explain
why he let the Maruaders off easily.

As if in cue thirty or forty more letters came shooting out of the fireplace like
bullets.

The Dursleys ducked, while Harry shot after the letters like a dog after a
chicken. He jumped on the table and off it as he chased in pursuit of the
letters, well, as an actual dog would. The Dursleys household was in short:
total chaos.

Harry got at least four letters, before Vernon shouted, "OUT! OUT'"

He seized Harry around the waist and threw him into the hall.

Harry though didn't care about the pain of being thrown, and greedily stuffed
the four letters in his pocket.

When giraffe and pig (Petunia and Dudley) had run out with their arms over
their faces, Uncle Vernon slammed the door shut. They could hear the
Hogwarts letters still streaming into the room, bouncing off the walls and floor.

"That does it," said a purple-faced whale (Vernon). He trying to speak calmly
but pulling great tufts out of his moustache at the same time. The sight was
very amusing to Harry. He totally needs to congratulate Dumbledore on pulling
a genius prank at his age.
"I want you all back here in five minutes, ready to leave. We're going away.
Just pack some clothes. No arguments!"

He looked so silly with half his moustache missing that Harry couldn't it in
himself to argue. He wouldn't ruin such a fine piece of reaction.

Chapter 3

Ten minutes later they had wrenched their the way through the boarded-up
doors and were in the car, speeding towards the motorway.

Dudley was sniffling in the back seat; his father had hit him round the head for
holding them up while he tried to pack his television, video and computer in
his sports bag.

Serves him right,

What did the pig do now?

'Pig' tried to pack his television, video and computer in his sports bag.

Didn't do much,

The bag almost ripped,

*snorts*
Harry already packed his things, food, and clothes. And if you're wondering
how bloody hell Vernon couldn't see the food or clothes, the answer is simple:
Magic.

Harry, of course, wasn't that Un-Ravenclaw, to open the letters in front of the
Dursleys. So he stuffed it in his totally not stolen bag.

They drove. And they drove. And Harry thought this is completely boring.

Every now and then Vernon would take a sharp turn and drive in the opposite
direction for a while.

"Shake 'em off. Shake 'em off," he would say whenever he did this.

They didn't stop to eat or drink all day. And it made Harry have the urge to
reach in his bag to get his food. He wasn't sharing with the Dursleys anytime
soon.

By nightfall, Dudley was howling. He'd never had such a bad day in his life. He
was hungry, he'd missed five television programmes he'd wanted to see and
he'd never gone so long without blowing up an alien on his computer.

Vernon stopped at last outside a gloomy-looking hotel.

Dudley and Harry shared a room with twin beds and damp, musty sheets.
Dudley snored like a pig, causing Harry to stay awake, sitting on the
window-sill.

Harry thought this was his chance to finally open his letter. He grabbed his
bag, opened it, and snatched one of the letters.
Ignoring the back of the letter, he opened the envelope. In big bold letters it
read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chief. Warlock, Supreme

Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all
necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. We await your
owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress,

Harry grinned eating chips he got out of his bag. It was exactly what he
imagined. Too formal for its own good. Harry then opened another parchment
that was poking out, of the envelope. It read:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY

Uniform

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

 3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Set Books

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

 1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED

THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

Harry hoped that his lack of parentage might be able to go against that. But it
was just luck that he would be able to play as a first-year. But from what he
heard from Sirius, Minnie might never allow him.

They ate stale cornflakes and cold tinned tomatoes on toast for breakfast the
next day. Which Harry thought, was okay.

They had just finished when the owner of the hotel came over to their table.

" 'Scuse me, but is one of you Mr H. Potter? Only I got about an 'undred of
these at the front desk."

She held up a letter so they could read the green ink address:

Mr H. Potter

Room 17

Railview Hotel

Cokeworth
Harry didn't try to get the letter this time. He already knew what was in it.

Vernon snatched the letter out of the woman hands and ripped it. The woman
stared.

"No," said Vernon. "There is no Harry Potter here,"

He glanced furtively at Harry as he said this.

"Wouldn't it be better if we just go home, dear?", asked Petunia timidly, as she

looked across the water, to the shack they'd be moving into, from inside the
car.

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" Dudley asked Aunt Petunia dully.

Vernon had parked at the coast, locked them all inside the car and
disappeared.

It started to rain. Great drops beat on the roof of the car.

Dudley snivelled.

"It's Monday," he told his mother. "The Great Humberto's on tonight. I want to
stay somewhere with a television."

Monday. This reminded Harry of something. If he was correct they had left the
Dursley's house on the last day of the second week before his birthday.

Which was a Tuesday and it was a week-long trip and if Dudley was correct
that today is a Monday, tomorrow was his birthday.
Well, so much for a birthday, Harry grumbled inside his head, cross in his
arms and sinking in his seat, his hair turning a little blue.

They had borrowed a boat from a fisherman who lived nearby the shore and
they paddled through the water.

The ride was cold and wet.

It was freezing in the boat.

Icy sea spray and rain crept down their necks and a chilly wind whipped their
faces.

After what seemed like hours they reached the island, where Vernon,

slipping and sliding, led the way to the broken-down house.

Though Harry was reluctant to go inside the rusty shack, that was worse than
his old cupboard which was saying something, he had no other choice.

It's either he slept outside or inside. And he did not want to sleep drenched in
seawater. Even though he was already drenched in it.

The inside was...not something he would wish for to put it lightly. It was
shallow and water could be seen dripping from the corners of the ceiling.

It had a moth-eaten couch that did not look comfy. The windows were boarded
up.

It smelled strongly of seaweed and the wind whistled through the gaps of the
wood.
The fireplace was damp and empty and there were only 2 rooms.

Vernon's rations turned out to be a packet of crisps each and four bananas.

Which made Harry grateful that he brought his own.

Vernon tried to start a fire but the empty crisp packets just smoked and
shrivelled up.

"Could do with some of those letters now, eh?" he said cheerfully.

He was in a very good mood. Obviously, he thought nobody stood a chance of

reaching them here in a storm to deliver the post.

Harry just snorted from the very thought. From what he heard, Quidditch
wouldn't be cancelled just because of this, who says an owl wouldn't get
through this.

And from what he'd seen the owls were SMART. They probably have already
known that he already read the letter.

It was midnight almost 1 am as Harry laid on the floor, a birthday cake drawn
on the dusty floor. There were 11 candles drawn on the cake.

The windows rattled as the storm raged outside the shack.

The wind howls and the thunders roars were one of the reasons Harry was up
at this questionable hour.
The lighted dial of Dudley's watch, which was dangling over the edge of the
sofa on his fat wrist, told Harry he'd be eleven in ten minutes.

He lay and watched his birthday tick nearer, wondering how he would be able
to escape the Dursleys to get to Diagon Alley.

Well, he could turn himself into the minister, he mused as he propped himself
by his hand. But then again he never really seen the minister and wouldn't be
able to know what he looked like.

He wondered if there was ever a female minister of magic.

He looked at the dial again.

5 minutes.

Harry heard something slight creak on the ceiling.

He hoped the roof wasn't going to fall in, although he might be warmer if it did.

4 minutes.

He wondered amusedly if the house was still being bombarded with letters
and to point that the Dursleys will need to contact the fire department to burn
them.

2 minutes.

He heard rocks crumbling outside, although he wondered if that was just his
ears playing with him.

50 seconds.
He sat up as he was now sure that there was definitely someone HUGE was
outside.

30...20...10 - 9 - Maybe he'd wake up Dudley just to annoy him that would
make his birthday better - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1-

BOOM!

The whole shack shivered and Harry bolted up, staring at the door.

Someone was outside, knocking for entry.

Harry backed towards a corner slowly, making sure to keep an eye on the
door as another knock made the whole shack quiver again.

BOOM. They knocked again. Dudley jerked awake.

Harry paid him no mind though as he thought of the most reasonable reasons
for a bloody midnight visit.

"Where's the cannon?", Dudley asked stupidly.

There was some shuffling in the next room and Vernon came bursting through
with a shotgun.

"Who's there?" he shouted. "I warn you - I'm armed!"

There was a pause. Then -

SMASH!

The door came flying open - cleansed off its hinges - and behind it stood a
giant figure.
A giant of a man was standing in the doorway.

His face was almost completely hidden by a long, shaggy mane of hair and a
wild, tangled beard, but you could make out his eyes, glinting like black
beetles under all the hair.

The giant squeezed his way into the hut, stooping so that his head just
brushed the ceiling.

He bent down picked up the door and fitted it easily back into its frame.

Bloody hell...

He turned to look at them all.

"Couldn't make us a cup o' tea, could yeh? It's not been an easy journey ..."
he said.

"We don't have teabags," Harry muttered, still awestruck that he just fixed the
bloody door, by just putting it back down on its frame!

The giant strode over to the sofa where Dudley sat frozen with fear.

"Budge up, yeh great fat lump," said the giant. Harry grinned at the fact
someone finally understood him.

Dudley squeaked and ran to hide behind his mother, who was crouching,
terrified, behind Vernon.

Pup, your snickering.

How could I not?

 The I quote "great fat lump" is getting what he deserves.

"An' here's Harry!" said the giant.

Harry looked up into the fierce, wild, shadowy face and saw that the beetle
eyes were crinkled in a smile.

"Las' time I saw you, you was only a baby," said the giant. "Yeh looks a lot like
yer dad, but yeh've got yer mum's eyes."

Vernon made a funny rasping noise.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir!" he said. "You are breaking and
entering!"

"He fixed the bloody door! What more do you want?" Harry said
exasperatedly. "It's not like he broke the couch! Which I think would be good
riddance."

Vernon made another funny rasping noise, his face turning a bit purple.

"Ah, shut up, Dursley, yeh great prune," said the giant.

He reached over the back of the sofa, jerked the gun out of Vernon's hands,
bent it into a knot as easily as if it had been made of rubber, and threw it into a
corner of the room.

Harry started to clap.

"Amazing! How do you do that?" Harry asked, completely amazed.

"Ah, that was nothin' Harry," the man said, waving a hand as if twisting a gun
into a knot was an everyday thing, in Harry's view at least.
"Anyway – Harry," said the giant, turning his back on the Dursleys and facing
Harry, "a very happy birthday to yeh. Got summat fer yeh here – I mighta sat
on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."

From an inside pocket of his black overcoat, he pulled a slightly squashed

box.

Harry opened it with trembling fingers. Inside was a large, sticky chocolate
cake with Happy Birthday Harry written on it in green icing.

Harry put the cake down on the couch and hugged Hagrid.

"Thank you...," he said, his voice muffled.

The man got teary-eyed and wrapped Harry in a bone-breaking hug.

It wasn't that Harry never got gifts. Most of what he considered one was
stolen. Not that he didn't appreciate Sirius' jolly jokes and mood, he just felt a
bit lonely. He wanted to see Sirius and be able to hug him as a proper godson.

The thought of someone actually giving something they made from their own
hands to him, and the fact it was a completely unknown entity made Harry his
day.

After a while, the bone-breaking hug loosened a bit. And then the hands that
were wrapped Harry in a hug moved to rest at the man's sides.

"Well Harry," the man said, wiping away his tears as he sat down on the
couch. The couch made a creaking noise.

"Didn't quite introduce me self 'haven't I? The names Rubeus Hagrid, keeper
of grounds of Hogwart's."
"What about that tea then, eh?" he said, rubbing his hands together. "I'd not
say no ter summat stronger if yeh've got it, mind."

His eyes fell on the empty grate with the shrivelled crisp packets in it and he
snorted.

He bent down over the fireplace; they couldn't see what he was doing but
when he drew back a second later, there was a roaring fire there.

It filled the whole damp hut with flickering light and Harry felt the warmth wash
over him as though he'd sunk into a hot bath.

"Thanks for that, Hagrid. It was so cold," Harry said, as he hugged himself.

"Ah, that was nothing, Harry. You'll be taught all 'bout this at Hogwarts," Hagrid
said.

The giant sat back down on the sofa, which sagged under his weight, and
began taking all sorts of things out of the pockets of his coat: a copper kettle,
a squashy package of sausages, a poker, a teapot, several chipped mugs and
a bottle of some amber liquid which he took a swig from before starting to
make tea.

Soon the hut was full of the sound and smell of sizzling sausage.

"O'course y'know all 'bout Hogwart now, don't cha?"

"Of course-"

"Impossible!" Vernon spluttered, his face purple. "You never read single one of
those blasted letters! We made sure of that!"
"Who said I never read them," Harry said calmly, grinning. He reached into his
bag and pulled out three identical Hogwarts letters.

Vernon now looked murderous.

"Now wait jus' one second!" Hagrid thundered.

He had leapt to his feet. In his anger, he seemed to fill the whole hut.

The Dursleys were cowering against the wall.

"Do you mean ter tell me," he growled at the Dursleys,

"that this boy – this boy! – knows nothin' abou' – about ANYTHING?"

Now THAT was a bit offensive to Harry. He did know about a lot of things. Like
the pranks, his Dad and godfather did at Hogwarts and how to transform into
an animagus. Not that Minnie will ever know.

"I do know about a lot of things," Harry said loudly. "The most important fact is
that I know that Snivellus is an overgrown bat,"

"Now 'ow do you know 'bout that?" Hagrid asked, confused.

Harry simply looked at him. Hagrid understood that he didn't want to talk in
front of the Dursleys here, and nodded.

A few seconds passed before Hagrid seemed to realize something.

"Gallopin' Gorgons, that reminds me," said Hagrid, clapping a hand to his
forehead with enough force to knock over a cart-horse, and from yet another
pocket inside his overcoat, he pulled a cute owl – a real, live, rather
ruffled-looking owl – a long quill and a roll of parchment. With his tongue
between his teeth he scribbled a note which Harry could read upside-down:

Dear Mr Dumbledore,

Harry already read his letter. Taking him to buy his things tomorrow. Weather's
horrible. Hope you're well.

Hagrid.

Hagrid rolled up the note, gave it to the owl, which clamped it in its beak, went
to the door and threw the precious owl out into the storm.

Then he came back and sat down as though throwing an owl as precious as
that was not illegal.

Harry was about to ask him why did he throw the precious owl out into the
storm when he decided that was probably normal in the wizarding world.

"Where was I?" said Hagrid, but at that moment, Vernon, still ashen-faced but
looking very angry, moved into the firelight.

"He's not going," he said.

Hagrid grunted.

"I'd like ter see a great Muggle like you stop him," he said.

Harry nodded with a grin.

"We swore when we took him in we'd put a stop to that rubbish," said Vernon,
" 'swore we'd stamp it out of him!"
"You knew?" said Harry. "You knew I'm a wizard?"

He thought the Dursley couldn't have gone worse. No wonder Sirius hated
them so much in his days.

"Knew!" shrieked Aunt Petunia suddenly.

"Knew! Of course, we knew! How could you not be, my dratted sister being
what she was? Oh, she got a letter just like that and disappeared off to that –
that school – and came home every holiday with her pockets full of
frog-spawn, turning teacups into rats. I was the only one who saw her for what
she was – a freak! But for my mother and father, oh no, it was Lily this and Lily
that, they were proud of having a witch in the family!"

She stopped to draw a deep breath and then went ranting on. It seemed she
had been wanting to say all this for years.

"Then she met that Potter at school and they left and got married and had
you, and of course I knew you'd be just the same, just as strange, just as – as
– abnormal – and then, if you please, she went and got herself blown up and
we got landed with you!"

"SHE DIDN'T GET HERSELF BLOWN UP! SHE WASN'T LIKE ANYTHING
YOU SAID!" Harry roared. "MY MUM WAS THE BRAVEST WOMAN I EVER
KNOWN-"

"You've never known your mother!" Petunia said loudly.

Vernon certainly seemed to have got back his courage. He was glaring at
Hagrid and his fists were clenched.

"Now, you listen here, boy," he snarled.

"I accept there's something strange about you, probably nothing a good
beating wouldn't have cured – and as for all this about your parents, well, they
were weirdos, no denying it, and the world's better off without them in my
opinion – asked for all they got, getting mixed up with these wizarding types –
just what I expected, always knew they'd come to a sticky end –"

But at that moment, Hagrid leapt from the sofa and drew a battered pink
umbrella from inside his coat. Pointing this at Uncle Vernon like a sword, he
said,

"I'm warning you, Dursley – I'm warning you – one more word ..."

At the mere thought of being turned into a toad by a giant with a pink
umbrella, Vernon's courage failed again.

He flattened himself against the wall and fell silent.

"That's better," said Hagrid, breathing heavily and sitting back down on the
sofa, which this time sagged right down to the floor.

Harry though was interested on what happened to Hogwarts during the years.

"So who's the Potions Professor now?" He asked as he munched on a

sausage Hagrid gave him. He hoped it was still Slughorn. From what Sirius
said he was a good Professor.

"Severus Snape," Hagrid replied.

Chapter 4
Harry choked on the sausage. Hagrid patted him on the back making him
choke out his sausage out.

Harry looked at him again.

"Excuse me, I think I heard you incorrectly. What did you say again?" Harry
said politely, giving him the puppy eyes which are harder to withstand the
effect of more than others.

"Severus Snape."

NO! NOT THAT OVERGROWN BAT!

"He will be teaching ya' potions," said Hagrid. "Not many like him though,"

Harry could guess why.

"Um, so who is teaching History of Magic?" Harry said trying to change the
subject.

"Professor Binns," said Hagrid, then he leaned forward as if sharing a secret

[chismosa to].

"Some say he fell asleep, then he died. Nex' mornin', he woke up, went to
class like he didn't notice that he died," he said quietly.

"That's how much he likes teaching?" Harry asked shocked.

That was surprising.

Sirius told him about the enervating ghost. But he never told him about the
rumour, saying that he wanted that to be a surprise and that there was also a
thing about a monster at a bottom of the Black lake or something. And
something about a ghost that will undoubtedly help him achieve
certain...goals.

But this rumour was surprising. (I know that he said that twice) He thought
the teacher didn't like teaching so much that he just made them read the book.
(Well, there is one teacher like that[if you could consider it a
teacher]...but no need to tell him 🤐)
"What was my mum and dad like?"

"Yer mum an' dad were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew."

"Head Boy an' Girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why
You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before ... probably knew
they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark
Side. Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em ... maybe he just wanted 'em
outta the way."

"All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on
Hallowe'en ten years ago. You was just a year old. He came ter yer house an'
- an' -"

Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his
nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad - knew yer mum an' dad, an'nicer people yeh
couldn't find - anyway - 'You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then - an' this is the
real myst'ry of the thing - he tried to kill you, too. Wanted ter make a clean job
of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it."
"Took yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. Brought
yeh ter this lot ..." Hagrid said, pointing at the Dursleys.

They continued their conversation about the past while chewing on their
sausage and drinking their tea. The Dursley were still on their little corner as
they conversed.

"You wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts," Hagrid said, as he smiled

warmly at him.

"Haven't I told you he's not going?' Vernon hissed.

He seemed to gain courage as he stepped forward, away from the corner.

Fool.

"He's going to Stonewall High and he'll be grateful for it-,"

"Ha!" Harry laughed. He looked at him in the eye. "Me? Be grateful for you
sending me that stupid muggle school?"

He looked at Vernon liked he'd gone worse than mad.

"If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won't stop him," growled Hagrid.

"Stop Lily an' James Potter's son goin' ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. (Which Harry
agreed on) His name's been down ever since he was born. He's off ter the
finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he
won't know himself. He'll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an'
he'll be under the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled-"
"I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM
MAGIC TRICKS!" yelled Vernon.

But he had finally gone too far.

Hagrid seized his umbrella and whirled it over his head.

"NEVER -" he thundered, "- INSULT - ALBUS - DUMBLEDORE - IN - FRONT

- OF - ME!"

He brought the umbrella swishing down through the air to point at Dudley -
there was a flash of violet light, a sound like a firecracker, a sharp squeal and
next second, Dudley was dancing on the spot with his hands clasped over his
fat bottom, howling in pain.

When he turned his back on them, Harry saw a curly pig's tail poking through
a hole in his trousers.

Which, Harry thought, suited him. Like a lot. Because that is literally his spirit
animal. Maybe that's what he'd be if he was an animagus. If he had magic
anyways.

He'd totally tell Sirius this later.

Vernon's overly not intimidating roar brought him back to reality.

Harry looked up to see Vernon pulling Petunia and Dudikins into the other
room.

He cast one last terrified look at Hagrid and slammed the door behind them.

Harry turned to look at Hagrid, wondering at the same time what to say now.
Hagrid looked down at his umbrella and stroked his beard.

"Shouldn'ta lost me temper," he said ruefully, "but it didn't work anyway. Meant
ter turn him into a pig, but I suppose he was so much like a pig anyway there
wasn't much-left ter do."

Harry grinned at him. He nodded in agreement as he popped the last bite of

sausage in his mouth.

Hagrid cast a sideways look at Harry under his bushy eyebrows.

"Be grateful if yeh didn't mention that ter anyone at Hogwarts," he said.

"I'm - er - not supposed ter do magic, strictly speakin'. I was allowed ter do a
bit ter follow yeh an' get yer letters to yeh an' stuff,"

"You were the ones sending the letters?" Harry asked, surprised.

"Yah. One o' the reasons I was so keen ter take on the job,"

"I thought it was the owls," Harry said, wondering how the hell he didn't notice
him.

Oh, Harry realized. Magic.

"It's gettin' late and we've got lots ter do tomorrow," said Hagrid. "Gotta get up
ter town, get all yer books an' that."

He took off his thick black coat and threw it to Harry.

"You can kip under that. Don' mind if it wriggles a bit, I think I still got a couple
o' dormice in one o' the pockets."
 *

Harry didn't sleep that night until he filled Padfoot in every single bloody detail.
Well...maybe not bloody details that... include blood.

Harry woke up the next morning...first!

Yes, he prided himself in being the first one awake in the morning. Well,
sometimes.

Harry opened his eyes. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over.
Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa.

Anyway *cough*, Harry sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off him. Ignoring
that, he slowly crept towards Hagrid, with a grin on his face. He was getting
ready to jump on his stomach when-

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Harry turned to the face window. An owl was rapping its claw on the window, a
newspaper held in its beak.

Harry walked to the window and jerked it open.

The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't
wake up. The owl then fluttered on to the floor and began to attack Hagrid's
coat.

"Don't do that,"
Harry frowned as he swatted at the owl away to defend the cloak. But it
snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat.

Harry frowned deepened, confused as to why the owls doing this.

"Hagrid!" Harry said loudly, "There's an owl-"

"Pay 'im," Hagrid grunted onto the sofa.

"How much?" Harry asked, as he snatched Hagrid's cloak, and peered into
the many pockets.

Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets - bunches of keys,

slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, teabags.

Finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins.

He'd never seen wizard money before, only heard of them from Sirius.

"Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily.

Harry counted out five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so he
could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it.

Then it flew off through the open window.

Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched.

The couch made a sound that made Harry worry it would split in half.

(Couch: *screams in couch*)

"Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer
stuff fer school."

Harry nodded and moved to grab his totally-not-stolen bag.

"Got everythin'? Come on, then."

Hagrid stood up and angled himself to go through the door, and went outside.

Harry followed Hagrid out on to the rock.

The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight.

The boat Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom
after the storm.

"How did you get here?" Harry asked, looking for Sirius' motorbike.

Maybe he used that to get here.

"Flew," said Hagrid.

"Flew?" Harry asked now looking at the top of shack for the motorbike.

"Yeah - but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."

They settled down in the boat, Harry felt a bit down that he still didn't see the
motorbike that Padfoot talked about like it was his wife or something.

Oh, I most certainly did not talk about her like that.

Listen to yourself talking and you'd agree, Padfoot.

I don't think I will, pup.

Besides I have surprise for you.

And what might that be?

You'll have to wait till September 1st, pup.

September First. Harry kept that date in mind. Harry didn't bother to keep
asking him what it was because once Padfoot made his mind, you can't
change it.

"Harry? Are yah alrigh'?" Hagrid asked.

Harry snapped out of it.

"Uh, sorry, what did you ask again?" Harry nervously chuckled as he looked
around nervously.

In one of Harry's talks with Sirius, they decided that their connection should be
kept a secret.

As it could be a advantage for them.

It would not do for Harry to mess it up infront of Hagrid.

Although Sirius trusted Hagrid with his life, Sirius did not trust him to keep
secrets.

"If I was ter - er - speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at
Hogwarts?" Hagrid repeated.

"Of course not!" Harry said quickly.

Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the
boat and they sped off towards land.

Harry wondered how the Dursleys will get back but then, he might as well give
them a taste of their own medicine.

They finally reached shore, and the boat swayed a bit as Hagrid stepped off
the boat.

They clambered up the stone steps on to the street.

Passers-by stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the
station.

Harry couldn't blame them.

Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly
ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Harry? Things
these Muggles dream up, eh?"

"Hagrid," said Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up, "did you say there are
dragons at Gringotts?"

"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."

"You'd like one?"

"Wanted one ever since I was a kid - here we go."

They had reached the station.

There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't
understand 'Muggle money', as he called it, gave the notes to Harry so he
could buy their tickets.

People stared more than ever on the train.

Harry looked liked he was about to bounce on his seat for reasons the people
didn't know. If he drank Veritaserum he would be rambling about how much he
wanted to get to Diagonally (I did that on purpose).

Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow
circus tent.

"Still got yer letter, Harry?" he asked as he counted stitches.

"Yeah, here." Harry took the parchment from his bag and showed it to Hagrid.

"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need."

Harry didn't bother to check it as he already read it and stuffed the parchment
back in his bag.

Harry had never been to London before.

Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not
used to getting there in an ordinary way.

He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground and complained loudly
that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.
"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said, as they
climbed a broken-down escalator which led up to a bustling road lined with
shops.

Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all Harry had to do was
keep close behind him.

They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger bars and cinemas, but
Harry still couldn't see the famous Leaky Cauldron.

"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous
place."

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub.

If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have noticed it was there.

The people hurrying by didn't glance at it.

Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the
other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all.

In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that a muggle repelling or a
notice-me-not charm was placed on it.

Before he could mention this, Hagrid had steered him inside.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby.

A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry.

One of them was smoking a long pipe.

A little man in a top hat was talking to the old barman, who was quite bald and
looked like a gummy walnut.

The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in.

Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the
barman reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand
on Harry's shoulder and making Harry's knees buckle.

He almost dropped his bag in surprise.

"Good Lord," said the barman, peering at Harry, "is this - can this be -?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

Harry looked around uneasily, still new to being noticed.

He felt like a deer caught in cars light.

Harry never really want to be noticed in stores or any place where things are
sold.

Since most of his trips to those places, he was on a mission to not be noticed.

He looked back at the barman who was still staring at him in awe.

"Yeah, my name's Harry Potter."

He was about to say something else when the man hurried out from behind
the bar, rushed towards Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.
"Welcome back, Mr Potter, welcome back."

Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him.

The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realising it had gone
out.

Hagrid was beaming.

Then there was a great scraping of chairs and, next moment, Harry found
himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

One of them, Harry thought, probably didn't wash their hand after using the
bathroom.

He grimaced at the thought.

"Doris Crockford, Mr Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last,"

"So proud, Mr Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand - I'm all of a flutter."

"Delighted, Mr Potter, just can't tell you. Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his
excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."

"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you
hear that? He remembers me!"
Well, yeah. I remember. You just bowed in a store. How could I forget the man
who made me noticed in a muggle store? Harry thought as he glared at him,
not enough to be seen.

He had been trying to snatch a snack or two from one of the shelves. He
would have succeeded if not for Dedalus bowing to him when he saw him
lurking around, throwing him the spotlight in the store.

The guard threw him suspicious glances but he, of course, used his
metarmorphagus abilities and put the snack back where it wrongfully
belonged.

All the while glaring at Dedalus.

Chapter 5
As he continued to shake Dedalus' hand who kept coming back for more, he
asked Sirius how to get through the wall between the Leaky Cauldron and
Diagon Alley.

So Pads, can you tell me how to go through the wall between Diagon Alley
and Leaky Cauldron again?

...

Pads?

Yeah, uh...

You just have to run straight into the wall.

 Really?

Yeah, its that simple. Same for the barrier between Platform 9 3/4.

Okay,

Thanks, Padfoot.

He made his way through the crowd to Hagrid.

"Let's go to Diagon Alley," Harry said as he readjusted his bag on his

shoulder.

Hagrid nodded and waved the rest of the crowd away from Harry and said
"Well, we best be off. We got lots to do. Things to buy."

And as they made their way out of the Leaky Cauldron, Harry saw a man with
a purple turban glaring at him.

He felt weird around the man. He is giving off the 'I am a (no nosed)
murdering bastard' kinda vibe.

The door of the Leaky Cauldron shut closed as Hagrid closed it.

"I know exactly what to do!" Harry exclaimed as he started naruto running
towards what could possibly be the way to Diagon Alley.

"'Arry, what are ya doing?!" Hagrid shouted in surprise as Harry sped past him
to the wall.

Harry didn't listen though and continued running until-

"oW! ShIT! FUck! CRaP! thAt bLoOdy gIt!"

Harry started shouting colourful words of anger as he held onto his forehead.
He could've gotten world record if swearing for the longest time was a thing.

He dropped to the ground howling swear words in pain.

Hagrid helped him up but he was still clutching onto his forehead where a new
ugly bruise was etched into his forehead.

Damn Sirius and his stupid little tricks!

Harry might be used to his tricks but he never liked them.

"Whatcha do that for, 'Arry?" Hagrid asked as he checked if he had more

injuries.

"I thought that was you get into Dragon Alley," Harry said, as he discreetly
used his metarmorphagus abilities to hide his bruise.

And his scar for less attention.

Hagrid meanwhile was tapping the bricks on the wall.

"Three up ... two across ..." he muttered. "Right, stand back, Harry."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella, and the brick
wriggled – it wriggled – in the middle, a small hole appeared – it grew wider
and wider – a second later they were facing an archway large enough even
for Hagrid, an archway on to a cobbled street which twisted and turned out of
sight.

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

It was an amazing sight. This view is way better than just running through the
wall.

Hagrid grinned at Harry's amazement.

They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder
and saw the archway shrink instantly back into a solid wall.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop,
making them shine.

Cauldrons – All Sizes – Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver – Self-Stirring -

Collapsible said a sign hanging over them. Although there was one that needs
some godamn cleaning that's for sure. It's leaking with grease. dEsgAstEng!

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."

Harry wished he had 8 eyes more eyes to take in the view. Honestly having a
camera would be very useful now. Maybe he should've stolen one.

Maybe a wizarding camera would be better.

But why was he thinking about stealing cameras when he should be looking at
all the amazing stores around him.

Everywhere he looked there was something to stare at.

Like the one with freakin awesome looking creatures. One looked like a duck
and mole hybrid. Or I could just say platypus but I don't really care(niffler). And
then there's a cat but it isn't a cat (kneazle). And then there's this potato
headed looking thing...with legs and arms and mouthes (gnomes). Then
there's this dog with two tails (crup). The sign on the shop Magical Managery.
[I don't know how to spell it].

And then there was another shop whose sign read 'Flourish and Blotts' that is
stuffed with books that it even reached the ceiling. Some books were thin and
some that are thick as a cake. The shop owner looked like he was looking for
something invisible, he is freaking feeling the ground like a dog. (That's the
Invisible Book of Invisibility)

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl
Emporium – Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown and Snowy. There were dozens of
feathers littered on the floor of that shop and several eyes were looking
around at passersby.

Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window
with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus
Two Thousand – fastest ever –"

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... and one of the sun. He
doesn't know why that exists.

Cause... I mean why would you want a globe of something you see every day.

There was many more but what really caught Harry's eyes is a snowy-white
building which towered over the other little shops.

"Gringotts," said Hagrid.

Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and
gold, was –

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone
steps towards him.

Holy Merlin! That's a goblin?! I didn't know their face was this deformed.

Oh, so you're already at Gringotts?

Yeah, no thanks to you.

Alright, I am sorry I tricked you alright?

That's not enough to make me accept your apology.

Fine uh...I'll give you the silent treatment!

But Harry didn't have much time to react as he missed a step and Hagrid
reached to stop him from falling over.

UNFINISHED PART

"Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine – platform ten. Your platform should
be somewhere in the middle, but they don't seem to have built it yet, do they?"

Harry glared at Vernon.

"Did you expect something to magically appear?" Harry asked, sarcasm
leaking from his voice.

"Don't say that, boy!" Vernon whispered angrily. He looked around as if

someone was listening to their conversation.

Harry took note of this.

"Do you really think everyone here is a muggle, Vernon?" Harry chuckled. "I'm
afraid your sorely mistaken,"

He then left them hanging and positioned himself at the barrier between
platform nine and ten.

He started to walk towards it. People jostled him on their way to platforms nine
and ten.

He leaned on his trolley as he started running towards the barrier.

He was coming nearer and nearer.

Hoping that Sirius wasn't joking with him, he closed his eyes and-

Next moment he opened his eyes to see a scarlet steam engine was waiting
next to a platform packed with people.

A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock.

Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the ticket
box had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three Quarters on it.
He looked down. Below it, was something he did not expect to see. A big
black dog, like the one from his dreams, sitting, staring at the archway, like it
was waiting for him.

His eyes lit up like a child on Christmas Day.

The grim like dog started running towards him, barking loudly as it did.

Harry let go of his trolley (earning a screech from Hedwig as the trolley jerked
a bit) and kneeled so that he was head to head with the running dog.

He stretched his arms wide.

Some adults yelled at him, "Kid! That's the grim!" and "Move! It's going to kill
you!".

But all the yells were ignored as the dog tackled him to the ground, sending
the back of his head to bump on to the cement floor ankle ng some adults who
believes the story of the grim shout at the dog to back away.

"Oof!"

The dog barked happily as he licked his godson's face until it was dripping
wet.

"Padfoot!" Harry laughed, as he spits out some of the dog salivae (That ain't
no wrong spelling. That's the plural of saliva) that slipped into his mouth.

The spit hit the dogs snout.

The dog stepped back a bit as it sneezed to get the spit out of its nose.
Once he completed his mission in emptying his nostrils, Harry made the dog
look him in the eye and said, "Are you really Padfoot?"

The dog barked at him again. And then there was a voice resounding in his
mind.

It's me, pup! It's me!

Harry sobbed happily as he was reassured that this dog was no straight do-
wait he meant stray dog.

He grinned as he and the big dog weaved through the crowd of people.

I'm in Platform Nine and Three Quarters, Padfoot!

We are, pup.

The dog reminded him. He looked at Harry again.

Are you alright, Pup? You sure I didn't hit you too hard, did you?

Harry rolled his eyes at his godfather while passing a girl with bushy brown
hair and her parents. Sirius followed his godson.

Yes, I'm sure you didn't, Padfoot.

I was actually wondering if you were tricking me into slamming into the wrong
platform while I was running through the barrier.

Your losing faith in me, Pup. Whatever did I do wrong?

You told me to run into the Wall leading to Diagon Alley and I now have a
bruise on my forehead to add to my scar.

And you made my face dripping wet.

But I already said sorry.

The dog whined as he looked at Harry's smug face. He was obviously teasing
him. And enjoying it.

Godfather and Godson walked their way through the crowd, going near the
back of the train.

Pads,

Yes, pup?

What are you going to do while I go to Hogwarts?

Are you going to find Moon or are you

going to find a place to live first?

What do you think I am doing here, Pup?

Huh?

I am going with you as your familiar.

No one alive knows I am an animagus except for you, Moony, Minnie

maybe-

Maybe?
Harry raised an eyebrow. He looked at the dog for an explanation. What the
fudge did he mean by that?