Seven-year-old Harry Potter looked around the playground in awe. It
was very rare that he got to come here. Usually he'd be locked in his
cupboard while his aunt took his cousin out, but today he got lucky.
Today there were roofers working on the house and they had seen
him earlier that morning so Aunt Petunia couldn't pretend to only
have one child in the house. Dudley had thrown a fit in the car on the
way over, not wanting Harry to ruin his fun, so the moment they'd
arrived Aunt Petunia had sat him down in the sandbox and told him
to play there. Harry didn't care. He was outside and around children
that didn't know him as Dudley Dursley's freak of a cousin. Not that
anyone was playing with him. They still found him odd, if for no other
reason than he was in the sandbox with the three and four year olds,
but at least they weren't running away like anyone who knew who
Harry was; Dudley had a way of ensuring Harry never made any
friends. Enjoying his day out, Harry didn't notice when the sandbox
emptied out and a shadow fell over him.
"Hello Dudley." He said hesitantly, knowing his cousin wasn't here to
play with him. In response Dudley stomped on the sandcastle Harry
had made. "Now that wasn't very nice, Dudley." Harry's voice took on
a sarcastic tone, which Dudley decided he didn't like.
"You're such a freak, Potter." He said, shoving Harry forward and into
the sand.
"So you say everyday. Now why don't you skip along and go coerce
another adolescent into being your companion." Dudley's eyes
narrowed as he thought on what Harry had said. He wasn't the brightest boy around, in fact it was because of his parents
complaining to the principal that Dudley had hadn't been held back a
grade, so it took him a moment whenever bigger words were used.
This made it Harry's favourite pastime to use words that confused
his cousin.
"So…so I should…"
"Go persecute another." Harry began to re-make his sandcastle as
he waited for Dudley to catch up. Unluckily for him, Dudley chose to
stomp on his castle again as he thought and Harry grew frustrated. It
was then that things began to go wrong, as they always did
whenever Harry got frustrated or scared. The next thing he knew
Dudley was pushed to the side as the sand began to re-arrange itself
into the biggest sandcastle Harry had ever seen. Harry stared in
awe, though others thought differently.
"Mum, did you see that?!"
"The sandcastle made itself!"
"No, that boy did it!"
"It was like magic!"
"Mum!" Dudley cried. "Mum, Harry pushed me!" Harry swallowed
hard and backed away as his aunt stormed over.
"What did you do?" She hissed, grabbing his arm, not caring that she
was hurting him, and dragging him away. "What did you do, you little
freak?!"
"Nothing! The sandcastle made itself, I swear!"
"Sandcastles don't just make themselves." She hissed again as they
neared the car.
"Excuse me, ma'am." Petunia turned towards the voice that spoke
and immediately became a simpering fool as she did whenever she had to explain something odd that the Potter boy had done. Her
persona disappeared though when she saw the stick he was
carrying.
"You!" She growled. "Was it you who did that? How dare you use
that…unnaturalness around normal folks!"
"I beg your pardon?" The man was confused.
"We have no use for your kind here," She nodded to the stick.
"Leave us alone!"
"Ah, so you are aware." The man became all business. "In that case,
my name is Kingsley Shacklebolt and I am an Obliviator for the
Ministry of Magic."
"I said go away!" He seemed unperturbed by Petunia's growing
anger.
"We detected underage magic at this location exactly four and a half
minutes ago, and in accordance with the International Statute of
Secrecy I was dispatched here to ensure the Statute remains in tact.
Are you, a muggle, aware of magic under Clause 73, Sub-section 3?
In other words do you have a witch or wizard in your immediate
family?"
"Witch or wizard? Mum what's he walking about?"
"Quiet, Dudley!" Petunia hissed and it was the shock that he was
actually told to shut up that had Dudley doing as he was told.
Petunia then turned back to the man and seemed to think on what
he'd said, eventually deciding that cooperating with him would get
them out of there the fastest. "Yes. My sister." Harry's head shot up;
he knew of only one sister of his aunt's.
"You mean my mum was a witch?!" He cried loudly, forgetting the
golden rule of staying quiet given the situation. Kingsley turned his
attention towards Harry then and he seemed a bit surprised. "Your mother was a witch?" Harry looked confused.
"I dunno. Aunt Petunia never talks about my mum and dad. They
died in a car crash you see when I was a baby. But she's only got the
one sister that I know of so mum must be a witch, mustn't she?"
Harry so clearly wanted to believe it, to believe that there was
something special about his mum, about him. Kingsley looked even
more surprised.
"A car crash kill a witch and wizard?" He grew suspicious and looked
to Petunia. "Just what is going on here, ma'am?" Petunia stayed
quiet a little too long for Kingsley's taste and so he raised his stick
and pointed it at Harry, muttering under his breath. A bright light shot
out and hit Harry in the chest though it didn't hurt him. A second later,
Kingsley's eyes turned furious as he again looked to Petunia.
"This young man's magical core is severely underdeveloped!" He
growled. With another muttered word and wave of the stick a liver
lynx appeared, stared at Kingsley for a moment and took off into the
air. "My boss is on his way and will handle this. Until then you must
remain here-"
"Absolutely not!" Petunia said, doing her best to keep her voice low.
"I am not going to stand here and waste my time answering your
stupid questions. You want him, take him! We never wanted him to
begin with!" Releasing Harry, she stormed off taking Dudley with her.
Harry was at a loss for words, torn between running after her and
knowing that whatever was to happen now couldn't be any worse
than living with his aunt and uncle. Wanting to learn more about his
parents, Harry made to decision to stay with the man who suddenly
seemed at a loss of what to do. With an unconformable cough,
Kingsley bent down to Harry's level.
"What's your name, son?"
"Harry, sir. Harry Potter." The look on Kingsley's face would have
been comical were the situation clearly not so serious. It took several moments of staring and stuttering for Kingsley to form a coherent
word.
"Harry Potter you said?" He all but whispered. Harry nodded. "May
I?" He reached forward, towards Harry's forehead and it was all
Harry needed to pull his bangs back and reveal the only interesting
thing about himself: the lightning shaped scar on his forehead. "Dear
Merlin." It was at that moment that a pop sounded next to them and
a man who hadn't been there a second ago appeared. "Director
Fudge!" Kingsley cried, jumping up at the sight of him.
"Shacklebolt." The man greeted. "What seems to be the problem?"
"I didn't know it would be you who came, sir, my apologies." He
waved him off.
"The entire department is out dealing with an airborne potion gone
wrong, it's seen sixty-three muggles grow extra limbs, I was the only
one left. Now, it's not like you to call unless necessary, so what is the
matter, Shacklebolt?"
"Accidental underage magic, sir." He reported. "Routine obliviation
until I discovered that the young lad's magical core is severely
underdeveloped. He also had no idea that he was a wizard, sir."
Fudge looked angry, but didn't even spare Harry a glance.
"How muggles can abuse their own I'll never know." He muttered.
"Take the boy to St. Mungo's and I'll have the Department of Magical
Law Enforcement come by to speak with his parents." He looked
about ready to leave but Kingsley stopped him.
"Sir, I'm not sure that wise given who this young man is." Fudge
looked intrigued and now turned his attention to Harry.
"And who is this young man?"
"My name is Harry Potter, sir." For the second time that day Harry
watched as a near comical expression grew on a grown man's face. "Harry Potter you say?" Harry nodded. It look a few moments longer
for Fudge to regain his composure than it had for Kingsley, but when
he did the man bent down to his level and smiled. "Well, Harry, we're
going to get you taken care of, all right, my boy?" Harry nodded,
unsure what to say, and allowed the man to take his hand.
"Shacklebolt, contact the DMLE and have Madam Bones meet me at
St. Mungo's. I take it you have never apparated, have you, Harry?"
"No, sir."
"Well it can be quite disorienting at first, but I promise it is safe. Hold
on tight now." Harry did as instructed and the next thing he knew he
felt as if he was being squeezed through a tiny tube. The sensation
was the most uncomfortable he had ever felt and when it stopped he
thought he would be sick, though thankfully he held on to his meagre
breakfast. Looking around Harry saw that they were no longer at the
park but in a building with people running every which way, most of
them holding sticks like Kingsley's. Fudge led him passed a line and
towards a desk, cutting in front of everyone and ignoring their
grumbles as she spoke to the woman behind the counter. He heard
his name mentioned and the woman's reaction was the same at
Fudge and Kingsley's. The next moment another man appeared and
led him and Fudge through the hallways to a private room where
they were told the healer would be by shortly. Fudge took a seat next
to the bed Harry found himself in and looked to the young boy with
pity.
"You must be quite confused, Harry." If what Kingsley had said about
him not even knowing he was a wizard was true then this would all
be more than just confusing to him.
"Yes, sir." Harry nodded.
"Well, let me see if I can help a little bit. My name is Cornelius
Fudge, Harry, and I am the Director of the Department of Magical
Accidents and Catastrophes. At the Ministry of Magic." Harry looked
even more confused but Fudge ploughed on. "There is magic in the
world, Harry. Magic that can do just about anything and there are certain people, such as myself, and yourself, who can use this
magic." Fudge took out a stick similar to Kingsley's. "This is a wand
and it helps me to do magic. When you are eleven, you'll get your
own wand, Harry, and will then be able to do magic as well."
"So my mum is a witch then?" He confirmed the thing that was most
important to him. "Aunt Petunia lied, she and my dad didn't die in a
car crash. They were a witch and wizard." Fudge's lips thinned at the
mention of the Potters dying in a car crash.
"No, Harry, your parents didn't die in a car crash, but I'm not sure I
am the one to tell you this." He forestalled any further questions and
thankfully so as the healer arrived at that moment. Healer Travers
took one look at Harry and handed him a vial that she said was filled
with a restorative draught, whatever that was. Harry drank it as
instructed and within minutes he could feel himself growing stronger
than he ever had been before.
"Whoa."
"He'll need several more potions before he catches up to a boy his
age." Said Healer Travers as she waved her own wand around,
casting what Harry assumed to be magic. "Luckily though it appears
that no damage was done to his magical core. He'll be fine once he's
caught up."
"I'm glad to hear it." A voice spoke, and Harry turned to see a very
imposing woman standing in the doorway.
"Ah, Madam Bones! " Cried Fudge. "Thank you for joining me here."
"Of course. And who is this young man?" The woman didn't appear
to be one to be trifled with, nor did she appear to mince words.
"This is Harry Potter." The shock that Harry was beginning to
associate with his name returned, though this time it didn't last very
long."Well…can't say I expected this when I woke up this morning."
"Neither did I." Fudge and Madam Bones began talking in quiet
tones that Harry had trouble hearing. Whatever it was about his
name that made people react this way, Harry wasn't sure if it was
good or bad. Clearly these people knew him, or at least knew of him,
though why he had no idea. It was a few minutes before they turned
back to him.
"Well, Mr. Potter," Said Madam Bones. "How would you like to spend
the night with Director Fudge here, until we get things sorted? Or you
can remain here in hospital if you prefer." The choice was easy.
"I'd rather stay with Director Fudge, ma'am."
"Splendid!" Said Fudge. "Aldora, my wife, and I will be thrilled to
have you." Harry didn't know much of what was going on, but he had
no doubt that that was absolutely true.
-H/GAldora Fudge was indeed thrilled to welcome the Harry Potter into
her home and it was she who informed Harry why people knew his
name: he was The-Boy-Who-Lived. That merely confused him more
but Aldora happily explained what that meant, though Harry noted
that she looked appropriately saddened when speaking about the
deaths of Harry's parents. Throughout the night Harry observed the
Fudges' and quickly came to the conclusion that they were what his
Aunt Petunia would call social climbers, while his Uncle Vernon
would call them 'bloody dirty politicians.' They were the kind of
people who were being nice to him, not so much out of a genuine
like of him, but because he was famous and what that fame could do
for them. Not that he thought them to be bad people, per se, but they
certainly wanted to use him. And Harry saw no reason why he
couldn't use them back.
"Mr. Fudge?" He asked in what he hoped to be his most innocent
voice."Yes, Harry?"
"What's going to happen to me now?" The Fudges looked to him and
he plastered a scared look on his face. He knew well how to
manipulate adults, he'd seen his cousin do it too often not to, but
he'd never tried it before himself.
"Well…I assume that we will find a good family to take care of you."
He said. "You won't be going back to those muggles." Harry didn't
have to pretend to look relieved.
"Thank you. Both of you, for everything, this is the best meal I've
ever had." That also wasn't a lie, it was better than any of the scraps
that his aunt and uncle gave him. "I wish I could stay here with you."
Harry bent his head and continued eating as the two looked to each
other. The seeds were there, and he had a feeling he'd get what he
wanted. Today had opened Harry's eyes to the fact that the best
person to take care of him was himself. His aunt and uncle were
never among those who were good to care for him, nor were any of
the adults in his school, none of them having believed him when he
told them of the abuse he endured at the Dursleys. Learning he was
a wizard and that there was a whole other world he belonged to was
an eye opener all on its own, but it appeared that no matter which
world he lived in no one would put him first, as he had heard parents
and caregivers were supposed to do. So it was up to Harry to put
himself first now and if staying with these people would let him do so,
then that is what he would do.