A woman who looked to be in her fifties walked on the pavement with her head held high and her hands in the pockets of her business suit. Her sharp eyes looked around for any movement as she crossed the road when the traffic lights went red.
She passed through a set of iron doors that led into a rather large field sans grass which was surrounded by high walls that oddly gave off the vibe of this being a prison rather than an orphanage as the large signboard suggested. She walked forward, taking in the sights of children running around before she reached what looked like an office and knocked.
A young girl opened the door.
"Yes?"
"Good morning. I have an appointment with Mrs. Cook. I believe she is the matron?"
The girl's eyes widened and she stood to the side, motioning for the woman to enter. The woman smiled politely, never showing her teeth as she did, and entered. The office was quite shabby but no less clean. A small desk was in the center, cluttered with papers and folders and there sat a middle-aged woman on a rickety old chair. Her eyes fell on the woman who entered and she stood up.
"Mrs. McGonagall, I presume?"
Minerva McGonagall nodded, "I thank you for agreeing to this meeting today."
Mrs. Cook invited the woman over to take a seat.
"You said you had something to talk about regarding a ward of this orphanage?" Mrs. Cook enquired politely. Minerva nodded.
"I am here to discuss one Harry Potter," she replied. The color drained from the matron's face as she stared at her.
"You want to talk about H-Harry?" She asked in a whisper. Minerva frowned.
"Yes. I am here to offer Mr. Potter a place in the school I teach at."
"I-I see… Which school is it?" asked Mrs. Cook.
"It is called Hogwarts. Mr. Potter was enrolled by his parents when he was born," Minerva replied. The matron nodded.
"It is an upper-class one then?"
Minerva nodded, "You could say that."
The matron nodded.
"Do you want to meet him then?"
"That is why I am here, yes."
The matron hesitated for a moment before she sighed and stood up. "Follow me then. But I must warn you, he is a… different kind of boy," she admitted. Minerva frowned.
"Different, you say?"
The matron nodded as they exited the office.
"He… he has a place in your school, right? Nothing I say will change that?"
Minerva shook her head as she stared at the woman who had stopped and was now staring at the floor. "No, nothing will."
The matron sighed before looking up, and Minerva's eyes widened when she saw the apprehensive gaze.
"He is a weird boy. I have been in this orphanage for years now, and I have never heard him say one word. At first, I thought he was mute. But the other kids quickly corrected me. There are rumors about him. How weird things happen around him. All the other kids are terrified of him."
Dread filled Minerva's body as she stared at this woman, and she was experienced enough to know that this response was in no way fake.
"Do you have any instances to tell me about?"
Mrs. Cook sighed, "Our previous matron, Mrs. Jenkins. She was very nasty towards him. The other kids told me. There were four boys who used to bully him, and Mrs. Jenkins never did anything. Then one day, Mrs. Jenkins tripped over and died. Within a month of her death, all four boys left the orphanage. No one has seen them since then."
Ice filled Minerva's veins as she stared at this woman.
"What are you suggesting, Mrs. Cook?" She asked firmly. The matron sighed.
"I am not suggesting anything. It's just, terrible things happen to those who mess with him. A boy threw a tennis ball at his back once. No one knows what happened, but the next second, the boy was bleeding on the floor with his teeth broken and his jaw fractured."
Minerva's eyes widened and Mrs. Cook looked at her with a frown. "No one will miss him when he is gone. You can be sure of that."
"You understand that he would be coming here every summer when school ends, right? We will not be taking him away permanently," Minerva informed the matron, who chuckled.
"I won't be so sure about that."
"What do you mean?" Minerva asked with a frown.
"It seems Harry has recently come into some kind of fortune. He has always done whatever he wanted, but three days ago, he returned with many expensive clothes. Now, I won't say he stole or anything. The boy is hardworking, that much is plain to see. But I do not think his little job would allow him to buy all those expensive things. With the way things have been going for the past year, it won't surprise me if he moved out within a year."
Minerva nodded.
"Be it as it may, I would like to meet Mr. Potter now, if you please," she asserted. The matron nodded and asked her to follow. They climbed up the steps until they reached a closed door, and the matron knocked twice.
There was a rustling inside the room before the door opened, and Minerva's breath hitched. A pair of brilliant emerald eyes, so similar, gazed evenly at her. Minerva's eyes trailed up to that infamous scar on his forehead before she took in his whole appearance.
Clad in what looked like a new t-shirt and trousers was the son of two of her favorite students, looking at them with a raised eyebrow.
"Uh… Harry, this is Professor McGonagall. She wants to talk to you," Mrs. Cook said, nervous. Harry looked at her for a moment before he stepped to the side and looked at Minerva.
"I shall leave you to it, Mrs. McGonagall," Mrs. Cook added swiftly before turning around and walking away at a brisk pace.
"Please come in, Professor," Harry said with a smile. Minerva stared at him for a moment before she walked in. Harry closed the door behind him and pulled his chair for her. Minerva sat and looked around. The room was very well kept and nothing was out of place. It almost seemed as if it was…
"You seem to have very good control over your magic, Mr. Potter. Commendable," Minerva complimented honestly. Manipulating magic in such a manner without the use of a wand was indeed admirable.
Harry gave a small smile. Minerva looked at him seriously.
"As you have been informed already, term shall begin on the first of September. However, before you start, you will need your books and equipment. That is why I am here. Today, we shall take care of it."
Harry chuckled, to her surprise. "I am already done with my purchases, Professor," he replied as he flicked his right arm. Minerva's eyes widened slightly when she saw a beautiful ivory wand shoot into his hand. Harry gave it a twirl.
"I've known about the magical world for about a week now," he began with a smile. "It was purely by accident. I was on a delivery when I stumbled into the Leaky Cauldron. Imagine my shock when I saw people levitating plates and glasses in the air. Tom helped me enter the Diagon Alley and I learned all I could about the magical world. Over the past week, I have been visiting Diagon Alley to buy books and stuff."
"I see," Minerva said with a frown. That explained how he could afford the clothes that Mrs. Cook was telling her about. "Then it seems my help is not needed at all. I would advise you to use this month to get yourself acquainted with what you are going to face. Reading ahead is always helpful."
Harry nodded. "I shall do that. Thank you, Professor. Although if you don't mind me asking, which subject do you teach?"
Minerva smiled. So far, she had not felt any bad vibes from this boy as that matron had described. Perhaps Harry simply could not connect with children of his age, and those incidents were nothing but embellished lies.
"I cover Transfiguration."
A grin blossomed on his face, and Minerva was assaulted with the memory of another young boy who had sported the same grin after he had performed a successful transfiguration in her class for the first time all those years ago.
"It's one of my favorites, along with Charms and Defense against the Dark Arts. I look forward to learning from you."
Minerva smiled. It seemed Harry had gotten the charming trait from his father and his thirst for knowledge from his mother.
"And I look forward to have you in my class, Mr. Potter. If you have any questions about the magical world, you may ask me."
Harry shook his head.
"I don't have any such questions as of now. I have bought many books from the bookstore in Diagon Alley and they have been very helpful. I've learned about the events that happened until that night…" Harry trailed off, and Minerva didn't have to guess what he was talking about.
"Your parents were some of the most remarkable students I've ever had, Mr Potter, and even more remarkable people. The world is indeed a worse place in their absence."
Harry nodded. "Mr. Ollivander told me about the man who killed him."
Minerva frowned. "I cannot fault him for that. However, I hope you will not let yourself drown in what could have been. You are about to begin a new journey, Mr. Potter. And I wish you all the best."
Harry smiled. "Thank you, Professor."
Minerva nodded and stood up before handing him a small piece of paper. "This is your ticket to the Hogwarts Express. The train shall leave form King's Cross Station at 11 AM on the first of September. To board it, walk between the Platforms 9 and 10 and you will reach Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."
Harry looked at her skeptically and took the ticket. He nodded at the woman who gave him a small smile before he walked her out of the orphanage. Curious eyes stared at him when he turned around, which quickly averted when he looked at them. Harry shook his head and walked up the stairs before entering his room and locking the door.
He sat on his chair and quickly withdrew The Mind Arts – Intrusion and Defense from the drawer before resuming from where he had left off. He was already very proficient in Legilimency. He had gathered that much. However, he needed to develop his defenses, and this brilliant book would help him do that.
-Break-
Three weeks had passed since Professor McGonagall's visit, and Harry had entirely devoted himself to his studies. His brain absorbed the knowledge like a sponge, and he was already done with the first two years. He was surprised to see just how little the material covered theoretically, and he realized that it must take witches and wizards a long time to learn and master the spells in the initial years.
So far, he had not made much progress in his Occlumency. He was able to enter a trance easily, but erecting a shield around his mindscape was easier said than done. As per the book, creating a barrier around one's mind was the first step to mastering Occlumency. Once a person succeeded in doing that, the next step was to hide the memories so that no one could see them. However, a true master of the defensive mind art was one who could easily create false memories and feed them to an intruder subconsciously. Such a degree of control took years to master, and Harry resolved to attain that level. There was no way he was giving up on a challenge.
He had also read the other extracurricular books he had purchased from Diagon Alley. They detailed how the wizarding government was designed and what powers were held by whom. It seemed the old families still held a lot of power in the legislature, and it had pleased him to see that even he had a hereditary seat on the Wizengamot. However, he could not access that power until he passed his OWLs, which would take place at the end of his fifth year.
Five years were a lot, but it wasn't as if he could do anything. Looking through the book, he discovered that the Potter seat was vacant in the Wizengamot, and no one had voted through it in the past seventeen years. The reason became apparent soon enough.
Turns out his grandfather was the last Potter lord to sit on the Wizengamot, and after his death in the summer of 1987, the seat became vacant. The war was in its infancy, and his father couldn't take up his seat when he became eligible since the war had already escalated by then. Thus, the seat had remained vacant until now. He observed that there were many similar situations. However, most were governed by a family member.
For example, the houses of Bones and Longbottom were run by Lady Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the only surviving family member of the heiress, Susan Bones, and lady Augusta Longbottom, the grandmother of the heir, Neville Longbottom. Both houses were allies of House Potter, and Harry resolved to talk to the pair who he discovered would be in the same year as him.
He had also learned about the other magical schools in other countries. It seemed that the wizarding society was very small, and only one school per country was enough to cater to all the students. It was a good thing that magical education was also very affordable thanks to the old families which contributed to the functioning of wizarding schools in every country.
All things considered, Harry was confident going into his first year as a Hogwarts student.
Currently, Harry was putting all his things inside his trunk. He was done with his clothes and other equipment. As he started to put the books in, he held up Understand the Battlefield and stared at it with a small frown. Words couldn't explain how tempted he was to start reading what was in that book. However, he also knew that he was not ready yet. Baby steps, he reminded himself, and put the book alongside the book about the mind arts and pulled the cover over that compartment before stuffing the other books over it. His packing was done and Harry stood up.
He had already decided that he would stay the final week before the school started in the Leaky Cauldron. He would be leaving today, and possibly for the final time. He had already told this to the matron, who had been shocked at hearing his voice for the first time in all these years, and Harry had deadpanned at the poorly disguised expression of relief on her face when he told her that he would be leaving the orphanage for good.
Harry pulled the trunk off the bed, internally marveling at how light it was before he looked around at the spartan room. He had left nothing at the place apart from whatever belonged to the orphanage and he took in what had been his home his entire life. A new chapter of his life was starting now, and Harry took a deep breath before nodding to himself.
Eyes followed his movement as he walked down the stairs and past the matron's office. His mind involuntarily conjured the image of Mrs. Jenkins' dead corpse right at the bottom of the stairs and all the beatings he had suffered inside that accursed office. Yeah, he was not going to miss it at all.
Mrs. Cook was standing outside the corridor, and she nodded at him. Harry gave a small nod back as he walked into the field before looking behind. Apprehensive eyes stared at him from probably every window as Harry turned around and walked out of Hope Orphanage for the last time, never to return.
-Break-
Clad in black jeans and a white sweatshirt with a cap over his head, Harry walked out of his room in Leaky Cauldron and made his way into Diagon Alley. At fourteen, he stood a respectable 5'7" with an athletic frame. His destination this evening was the ice cream shop he had heard so much about in the past few days since he had been living here.
Florean Fortescue's Ice-cream Parlor was a very famous establishment in Diagon Alley, and it attracted witches and wizards from other countries as well. Normally, the shop was very busy. However, this close to the school year, only a few people were sitting on the tables laid out in the small courtyard in front of the shop.
Harry walked over to the counter and perused through the menu, wondering what he should order. Smiling when he found what he wanted, he placed his order and waited.
Two minutes later, Harry walked over to a vacant table with his Butterbeer Ice-cream and sat down. He had heard a lot about Butterbeer from people in the Leaky and wanted to try it out for himself.
Taking a small bite, his eyes widened at the wonderful taste and he eagerly dived in.
-Break-
Neville Longbottom had always been a shy young man. Low on confidence ever since he could remember, he barely had any bout of accidental magic when he was a child. His grandmother had been disappointed with him, and Neville could not fault her for it. He was socially inept, and he was magically incompetent as well.
When his Hogwarts letter finally came, his grandmother had been ecstatic for the first time he could remember. Instantly, they visited Diagon Alley to get his shopping done. Neville didn't outwardly express it, but he was excited. Excited about something he had craved ever since he had first seen his grandmother using it.
A wand of his own.
Thus, he had been severely disappointed when his grandmother didn't even visit the wand shop and brought him home without one. Confused, Neville was about to go to his room when she asked him to come to the lord's solar.
Neville had been in this room a number of times in the past, and he knew this would one day belong to him. However, try as he might, he couldn't imagine himself sitting in this office with the authority a person of his position would command.
His grandmother opened the drawer and Neville's breath hitched. His father's wand. When his grandmother told him that he would inherit his father's wand so that he could live up to his reputation, Neville felt pride for the first time. Excitedly, he took the wand from his grandmother, relishing the expectant smile on her face.
Only for that smile to vanish when nothing happened. Neville had been shocked. It couldn't happen, right? His father's wand felt loving. He could feel it in his bones – the loving caress. However, it felt like the wand was rejecting him. He told as much to his grandmother, who had absently nodded and taken the wand back from him before sending him off to bed.
That had been four weeks ago, and his grandmother had not spoken a word about it since then. At least until this morning. Right before she left for the Wizengamot meeting, she gave him ten galleons and told him to visit Diagon Alley and buy a wand suited to him. Neville had taken the coins with shaking hands, and his grandmother had firmly instructed him to do it on his own.
'You are fourteen now, Neville. For how long will you depend on me for the smallest of tasks? Go and buy a wand on your own,' she had said. Neville knew the true reason though. She didn't want to see another wand choose him when her son's wand rejected him.
Neville had spent the entire afternoon in the greenhouses amidst his plants. He had always been a herbologist at heart and knew what his favorite subject was going to be. It was four in the evening when he floo'd over to the Leaky Cauldron and asked the barman to open the passage. This was a test for him, to see whether he could hold his own in front of strangers and manage to talk to them. Neville was nervous, but he was determined to overcome this challenge.
It took him three tries in the wand shop before Mr. Ollivander handed him the wand that was made for him. A beautiful ten-inch wand made of Cherry, with the hair of a Unicorn as its core. Mr. Ollivander had said that the wand was pliant, whatever it meant, and Neville had resolved to cherish it.
He looked at the three galleons in his hands and looked over to the ice cream shop. With a small smile, Neville walked over and started looking for what he wanted.
Five minutes later, Neville picked up his Chocolate and caramel sundae and looked over at where he could sit. He was about to choose the one that was furthest away from the nearest person before he paused. He was going to overcome his anxiety, and that meant interacting with strangers. Seeing one of the chairs at a table occupied, he steeled himself before walking over.
"C-can I sit here?" He asked. The boy eagerly eating his ice cream paused and looked up at him. His emerald eyes stared at him for a moment before he nodded. Neville sat down and put his ice cream on the table before taking a bite. The boy opposite him went back to eating. Neville sweatdropped at his eagerness.
"You like butterbeer?" He asked, surprising himself with the initiative. The boy looked up and gave a small nod before looking at his ice cream.
"Chocolate. Nice," he said, and Neville smiled. 'Maybe this wouldn't be so hard,' he thought.
"I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom. What is your name, if you don't mind me asking?" Neville added the last part hastily. The boy in front of him paused and stared at him curiously.
"You are Neville Longbottom?"
Neville frowned before nodding. He was surprised when the boy smiled.
"I've been looking forward to meeting you, Neville. Name's Harry. Harry Potter."
Neville's eyes widened.
-Break-
"So you've been living in an orphanage all these years and recently discovered that you're a wizard and read everything you could. You came to know about the alliance our houses had, and that's why you wanted to meet me?"
Harry nodded. He had thought he would have to find the Longbottom heir when he reached Hogwarts, but it seemed he wouldn't need to.
"Yeah. I was curious. That's all."
Neville gave a small nod in understanding, still coming to terms with it all. He had certainly not expected to meet Harry Potter of all people this evening. The pair went back to eating their ice cream.
"So what are you doing here today?" asked Harry.
"I came to buy my wand," Neville replied as he pulled out his new wand from the pocket of his robes. Harry stared at it and nodded.
"Looks nice. You didn't buy it when doing school shopping?"
Neville shook his head with a frown.
"It's a complicated matter for me. You see, my gran wanted me to inherit my father's wand. That's why we didn't go to buy a wand when we did the usual shopping. But his wand didn't react to me. I did feel something, almost as if he was holding my hand, but I couldn't cast any magic with it. That was four weeks ago. During this time, I've been trying to use magic with his wand, but nothing worked."
Harry nodded with a frown, before giving a small smile.
"Good thing no spell worked. Imagine you were trying some magic and suddenly you got a letter from the ministry for underage spell use," he chuckled. Neville frowned.
"Why would I get a letter from the ministry? They won't know anything," he said, puzzled.
"Huh?" Harry asked intelligently. "Underage magic is not allowed, you know that, right?"
Neville shook his head, "The ministry doesn't know if someone underage is using magic. They can only guess it when magic is used in the general area of an underage witch or wizard and it is done with a wand. That's how they don't send letters for accidental magic."
Harry's eyes widened.
"You mean I can use magic right now and no one would be able to tell?"
Neville nodded, "Here, yes. But if you used magic in the muggle inhabited area where there are no magic users, the ministry would be able to tell that you used magic. They cannot tell it apart when magic is used in a place where there are so many witches and wizards."
Harry sat, shellshocked as he stared at Neville, who looked at him apprehensively.
"You mean to say I could've been practicing spells in the Leaky Cauldron or here and improved massively, and no one would've been able to tell?"
"Uh… yeah, why not? I mean, many students in magical homes do it after they get their wands."
Harry looked down with a frown before sighing at the lost opportunity. There was no use in thinking about what had already transpired.
"Thanks for telling me, Neville. You've been a big help," he said sincerely. Neville gave a short nod and went back to eating his ice cream.
Fifteen minutes later, the two boys walked out of the ice cream parlor and Harry turned toward Neville with a smile.
"I'll keep you a seat in my compartment, okay?"
Although surprised, Neville gave an excited nod. They shook hands and Neville watched as Harry walked toward Gringotts. There was only one thought running through the young Longbottom heir's mind as he started walking toward the Leaky Cauldron.
'I made a friend.'
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