A Whole New World
A girlish squeal burst out through Harry's lips before he even registered opening his mouth. Glancing covertly at Monty, he grinned sheepishly at the deadpan look the snake shot him and coughed awkwardly.
"So… ah… that was unexpected." His finger rose up to rub at the itch behind his ear.
"Are you going to get the door?"
Harry stared incredulously into forest green eyes – much darker than his own – as he processed Monty's question.
"Get the…. Are you out of your-"
The knock came again, Harry managing to dim his response down to a violent flinch; narrowing his eyes at the offending party behind his temporary front door.
"We're a ways out from the coast in the middle of a fairly ferocious storm, perched on top of a death trap of a rock, and you want me to open the door? What if it's a crazy axe wielding psychopath who wants to chop my precious body into bloody pieces?!"
"Has the thunder addled your brain – oh, I'm sorry; you don't have one."
Harry opened his mouth to retort, but Monty's patience had never been the best. With a scarily accurate imitation of aunt Petunias shrill voice he hissed: "Harry! Open. The. Door."
Monty stared up at him challengingly, Harry meeting his glowing orbs head on. Gathering his courage, he squared his shoulders and turned to face the weathered oak, stuffed tightly into its too-small frame. Ridiculous theories aside, they were in that hut because some magical arse decided to letter stalk him. Without considering magic, it was hard to think of a way anyone could have gotten through the punishing waves that he could – even now – hear crashing tumultuously against the granite below them. If this person was from that … Hogwarts, then it was probably a good idea to let them in.
He waited patiently for Monty to climb his leg, winding up under his tattered t-shirt. When they were both ready, he strode confidently toward the door and – without giving it any further thought – flicked up the large brass bolt and pulled.
He was so busy thinking about the person on the other side that he forgot to take the weather into consideration. The gale force winds caught him completely unprepared, flinging the door back into his unfortunate face.
"Mother of-!"
Bodily preventing the door from slamming into the wall, he gingerly poked his smarting nose; pouting as he realised the door had smashed the lens of his glasses. He was now half blind. Grumbling, he curled his neck around the door; squinting out into the gloom. As rain pelted his burning face, he managed to make out a darker shape silhouetted against the murky sky.
A flash of lightning sent him flying as far back into the room as he could get, eyes wide and teeth chattering; the door abandoned to the raging tempest. Following his retreat, the witch (for she could be nothing else) stepped quickly into the hut, the clack of her shoes echoingly slightly against the cold stone walls. The lightning threw her remarkably pointed hat sharply into contrast before a rustle of robes saw the door swinging back into place – with nary a bang to show for its trouble.
Harry had ended up with his back flat against the opposite wall, staring blindly at where the noise of the storm had abruptly cut off. She had not taken any further steps towards him, a fact which helped to calm his racing heart. A warm light emanated from somewhere slightly off to her right, allowing him to focus once more in her general direction.
"I apologise for barging in like this, but it would be rude of me to let you get a cold for opening the door."
He absently placed her accent as Scottish, one more fact to add to her slowly building profile. Harry tried to form a reply, but all he could think of was how much his face was stinging from the wind. He rubbed his hands up and down across his cheeks to try and alleviate some of the chill and sighed heavily. She was being polite, so hopefully he had nothing to fear.
"That's ok, it's impolite to leave someone standing on the porch anyway. I'd offer you a seat but I'm afraid it's still occupied." Though how on earth the fat lump had managed to sleep through that racket was anyone's guess; they'd barely even interrupted his midnight sonata!
Before anything else could be said, the door behind Harry was flung open violently, hitting the adjacent wall with a mighty bang. Jumping in surprise Harry spun around, only to be faced with the mad visage of a bright purple monster that looked vaguely like his uncle…
Something silver was waving about madly in front of him, but without his glasses Harry was struggling to figure out what it could be. A crowbar, perhaps? He seemed to be brandishing it about like some kind of weapon. Unless… had his uncle bought a gun?!
"WHO ARE YOU?!" Uncle Vernon bellowed ferociously, though Harry could detect a barely noticeable tremor in his voice. He was scared? "HOW DID YOU GET IN? YOU ARE BREAKING AND ENTERING!"
A loud crash announced the awakening of his cousin – he had rolled off of the sofa in fright.
"On the contrary Mr Dursley, I was very kindly invited in by your nephew. I assure you that I conducted no illegalities upon entering your…"
"Summer home." Harry supplied helpfully. It was sort of true.
"Indeed." The woman glanced at him appraisingly before returning her stern gaze back to his uncle. "To answer your first question, I am Professor McGonagall. I am here on behalf of Headmaster Dumbledore to investigate a concerning matter that has been brought to our attention."
Watching Vernon's race rapidly darken to a curious shade of puce, Harry asked: "Is this about the letter I recently received?"
The colour disappeared so suddenly Harry worried his uncle would faint. A smaller, similarly white face peered out from behind the open door frame, staring at him in horror. Harry shuffled awkwardly under the scrutiny of the three adults; it felt odd to be the centre of attention after being ignored for so long. He sought out the professors' blurry silhouette once more.
"I apologise if you were waiting for a reply, I'm afraid I only opened the letter seconds before your arrival. Although it's rather beneficial you're here," He added as an afterthought, "I've no owl to reply with."
Noticing the colour rapidly returning to the growling blob behind him Harry sighed. You couldn't please them all.
The following conversation had taught him a lot about his heritage and had completely destroyed most of his future goals. Who the hell registered their child into a school before they'd even been born anyway?
Although his Aunt had yet to say much on the subject matter, his Uncle was adamant that he go to a 'normal school full of normal people that couldn't influence him with their freakishness'. The woman – Professor McGonagall – seemed to believe his future place of study was a forgone conclusion (especially over his 'muggle' institution), and simply endured uncle Vernon's biased rant with the sort of patience only a long serving teacher could have.
Personally, Harry had had enough.
"Excuse me!"
He cut off his uncle mid tirade – clearly the shock of his 'waste of space' nephew interrupting him was enough to jerk the man out of his brainless shouting.
"Thank you." With a moment of quiet to air out his brain, he quickly composed his thoughts into a logical order of progression. Facing the Professor he asked:
"Firstly, is Hogwarts the only magical school available?"
"It is the only one in Briton, yes."
"And anywhere else?"
There was a moment of silence where she seemed to just look at him. Why on earth did he not have a spare pair of glasses?
"Most countries have their own schools – several, in some cases. But most magical children in England are taught at Hogwarts."
"I don't mean any offence but… is there any chance of obtaining a curriculum for each school?"
He'd never considered studying abroad before – monetary issues. However, he clearly wasn't required to pay for this schooling, so maybe-
"I'm afraid Mr Potter that application dates for the upcoming academic year have already closed. As you had already been accepted by the school we only needed the confirmation of your attendance, which is why a home visit was required once your letter was not returned. Should you wish to apply to another school you must wait until the new year, before which time you must have begun your magical education."
Uhuh, right. So he only had one choice in magical school for the moment. He would have to cross check that reference as soon as possible, but as he currently had so little time…
"What if I chose to continue my current education – muggle, did you call it? I have been accepted into a fairly prestigious school and it would be very disappointing to have to turn down the offer.
In fact, giving up on all of his hard work was an incredibly painful prospect; what would his teachers think? On the other hand, he doubted many people got the chance to learn magic.
"Do I have to take entrance tests? How do you know I meet the required criteria?"
"Many students of Hogwarts – much like yourself – are not previously aware of their magical status. Hogwarts allows everyone to learn to control and utilise their magic regardless of their background, therefore we do not hold entrance tests for potential students. As to your first question…" Somehow the aged Witch managed to stand up even straighter, her sharp tone turning steely as she continued,
"I am afraid that, should you choose to reject tutoring, your magic will be sealed and your memories of the event wiped. Accidental magic can be very dangerous and the ministry does not allow it to go unchecked for long."
Harry gaped at her. That was pure blackmail! He wasn't stupid enough to give up such a prize, even for the highly prestigious Whiteacre Academy. What was it with governments and their stupid rules! (Even though he could see the sense in this one).
"HE WILL NOT BE GOING!"
Both Harry and the professor jumped, turning towards his forgotten uncle, still standing in the door way with the gun – once again – brandished at shoulder height.
"Do what you said, seal his- his freakishness away and be off with you! I've had enough of all this nonsense talk!"
Harry felt a foreboding aura behind him just a moment before his Uncles weapon exploded…. Into a bouquet of brightly coloured wild flowers. His breathing turned shallow and his stomach muscles tightened up painfully; now was definitely not the time for hysterical laughter. Definitely not. Nooo way. It wasn't going to-
"Bwahahahaha!" He clutched at his shirt as he doubled over, tears squeezing from his watery green eyes. Logic told him that he was just making things worse, but really, he just couldn't help himself.
Sure enough, Vernon began to practically vibrate with anger as Harry wiped the moisture from his cheeks, flower petals drifting to the ground as his shaking hands dislodged them from their dark green stalks.
Harry hated the situation – he really did – but there was just no way he could pass up learning magic. That didn't mean he had to give up all of his current interests (hopefully), it just meant that they would have to take the back burner until he again had the time. Perhaps he could even study both alongside each other and apply for external testing. Forgetting his relatives entirely he decided that, either way, Hogwarts was his new future.
"I believe I will accept my place at your school; what do I need to do?"
Apparently satisfied with this answer, she folded her hands into the front of her dress and smiled thinly.
"I will notify the headmaster in the morning. For tonight, I have reserved rooms in the leaky cauldron for us to stay in. I shall return Mr Potter to you in the evening; he should be back no later than 6." The last sentence was aimed towards Petunia and Vernon who, in spite of himself, had managed to keep his mouth shut through his building fury. Perhaps he worried what else could flower if she should become upset with him again.
"Uhh… I think our normal house by then, right?" He ignored his shaking uncle in favour of his horse faced aunt. Strangely enough, she looked as though she had already accepted this new development, and was rubbing Vernon's meaty arm in an attempt to calm him back down.
She nodded at him once and urged his Uncle back into their bedroom, beckoning the cowering Dudley over to them as she said, "Just go. Put all of your things away quickly when you get home – I don't want to see any of them for the rest of the summer. Don't forget to write to the academy either."
That said she followed the males into the room and shut the door, effectively shutting out Harry's stunned expression and the severe frown of the witch at his side.
"Well then-" The words came out of his mouth slightly strangled and his had to swallow before speaking again. It's getting early professor, and I could definitely do with a bit of sleep before we hit the shops. Should we go?
Taking his first step into Diagon Alley, Harry could almost believe he had one foot planted in the medieval history text he'd studied at school. Men, women and children clothed in flowing robes bustled in and out of old English styled shops; bold, painted letters displaying names such as: 'Magical Menagerie', or 'Quality Quidditch Supplies'. He decided he'd best get the other foot in before it got left behind.
The window displays in each shop all seemed to be moving – gleaming ladles stirring massive black cauldrons and stacks of books reshuffling themselves every five seconds, so that there was always a different title on top. Cobbled grey stones stretched out between them in a maze-like network of streets, with gold and black sign posts pointing every which way to 'Ollivanders' and 'Gringotts Bank'.
Harry didn't know which way to look as he let his feet do the boring work; following the Professor up the main path to their first destination. His glasses had been fixed the day before when she had finally commented on his perpetual squint and he praised her magical prowess now, absorbing the sights with almost childish glee.
Walking into a large shadow brought his wayward attention to the front, where he gaped at the sight of a massive marble structure guarded by…
'Ehhhh?'
"Monty, are you seeing this?" He whispered quietly to his friend, still hidden under his oversized clothing.
"What do you think?" Was his scathing reply, causing Harry to smile sheepishly as he entered the towering threshold.
"This way Mr. Potter!"
Realising he'd lagged behind slightly he rushed to catch up to the tight lipped woman, offering his apology as he looked up and up… and up. He couldn't even see the banker behind the desk she'd stopped by as, like everything else in the building, it was so tall.
'Everything other than the employees anyway' he thought, regarding the creatures around him critically. He decided they must be some kind of elf or goblin – though they had neither green skin nor pointy hats, their anatomy seemed somewhat similar to the pictures he'd seen in Dudley's discarded books.
Engrossed once again in his thoughts, he only vaguely heard the exchange occurring behind him; noting belatedly that he had…
"Wait. I have money?"
"Your parents were fairly wealthy upon their death – both from their work as Aurors and your father's inheritance."
Deceased relatives then. He'd assumed so, but it was still slightly disheartening to finally hear the firm truth. But wealthy… and now it was his…
His practical jokes were usually homemade – hampered due to lack of funding. But now he had magic and money; Hogwarts was going to be a riot.
Author's Notes:
Although I would prefer to have included Harry's time in Diagon alley in this chapter as well, my academics are staring up again soon and I once again find myself without the time. In spite of this, I hope you enjoy what I have written, and I will do my best to not take so long next time - but no promises!
Thank you for reading, please don't hesitate if you have any comments or queries :D
Editing error has been pointed out and fixed, thank you!