Uncle Vernon found them a cheap place to stay on some remote island. An old man in a rowboat ferried them out to the isolated cabin and Aunt Petunia looked like she would be sick as the boat rocked side to side. They all got to shore and the old man handed a key to Uncle Vernon.
“Seven days. I’ll come back to get ya then. Ya want out early, call on the landline. Let me tell you, that was a pain in da rear to get installed for my pop. Be careful now.”
With that, the man started rowing away again. Harry thought he must be very fit to still be doing that kind of thing at his age.
Dudley complained almost immediately when they went inside. The house smelled musty, and bugs were crawling in the corners of the rooms. But it was almost night now, and so Harry’s aunt and uncle quickly claimed a room while Dudley claimed the other. It seemed the mattresses were somewhat clean at least.
Harry was given a set of blankets and a pillow and told to sleep on the floor. The floor wasn't very clean, but Harry found one of the cleaner spots and settled in. Harry quickly covered himself in the blankets to ward off the cold sea breeze coming from underneath the door to prevent himself from shivering too much. He started drifting off to sleep.
Something welled up inside him as he remembered something. Was this emotion? It felt different than the anger from before. Still bitter, but something softer behind it. He felt compelled to speak, to release the pressure within him,
“Happy eleventh Birthday, Harry Potter. Another whole year.”
And then Harry went to sleep.
— — —
*Thump! Thump. Thump.* Harry jumped awake to a heavy knocking at the door. He stood and shivered in the cold air. His breath was even visible now in the cold and he curled inwards and rubbed his arms to give them some feeling.
Harry made his way to the door. Who could be on the island? Was it the old man from before?
A voice roared from behind him. “Don’t you dare open that door, Boy!”
Harry turned to Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia in their nightclothes standing outside the door to their room. Dudley was poking his head out too, seeming to still be blinking to wake himself up. Harry stepped away. “But isn’t it polite to…”
“Don’t tell me about manners, boy. I’ll handle this.”
Harry’s eyes widened fractionally in surprise as Uncle Vernon went into his bedroom and returned with a double barreled shotgun. He approached the door, seeming to ignore Harry. “Whoever’s out there, we don’t want any of you freaks here! Go back where you came from.”
There was an electric crackle, then suddenly the door fell inwards off its hinges. A man stepped into the room, stooping under the low ceilings. He was massive, Harry had never seen someone so large before. He was holding a pink umbrella in one hand. Uncle Vernon pointed his shotgun at the man. “I’m warning you. Make a move and I’ll…”
The man’s hand snaked out deceptively fast and grabbed the end of the gun and with seemingly little effort bent the barrel up and back until it was nearly a circle. The giant man turned around and lifted the fallen door and lifted it again until it was roughly back in place. He turned back around, and Harry could see that he had a massive bushy and unkempt black beard. His brown coat looked worn and there were many patches covering it.
“Sorry ‘bout tha’.”
He glanced at Uncle Vernon who was sputtering in rage, still holding the gun. His voice grew slightly annoyed.
“Big muggle feeling himself tough. Put tha’ thing away before ye hurt yerself. Coulda jus’ answered the door. Just rude.”
Hagrid’s eyes took in the rest of the room before his eyes fixed on Harry. Dudley seemed to be still cowering in his room. The giant man’s eyes lit up. “Harry Potter?”
Harry nodded.
“Ya ready to go? I’m sure ye are real excited to go to Hogwarts. I’m here to escort ye to get yer supplies.”
Harry cocked his head to the side.
“Go? To Hogwarts? Does this have something to do with all of those letters?”
The man’s face grew red and he turned to Harry’s aunt and uncle.
“Ye didn’t even… Nothing!”
Harry’s guardians shrunk away at the man’s anger, and the giant man sighed and pointed his umbrella towards the fireplace. A spark shot out and a second later the fireplace was filled with a roaring fire. Harry could feel the warmth as he put his hands out to it. Harry and everyone else looked at the umbrella in shock as the large man sat down next to him. Even sitting down, he was still taller than Uncle Vernon standing. The Dursleys stood in the corner and fidgeted, but didn’t speak as the giant man began to speak.
“Well. First thing first. My name’s Rubeus Hagrid. On behalf of Headmaster Dumbledore, I’m here ta take ye to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Where witches and wizards from all across Britain go to learn once they turn eleven. Oh, that reminds me.”
Rubeus pulled out something from underneath his cloak. A white box. He flipped open the lid, revealing a slightly squashed cake with a little eleven in frosting on it.
“This is for you. Happy Birthday, Harry.”
Harry accepted the box and looked down at it. Something new welled within him again. It was a good feeling. Was this what other people felt all the time when good things happened?
Harry looked up.
“Excuse me, Rubeus. What’s a wizard? Why would I go to a school for them?”
Rubeus looked stunned for a moment before he spoke again.
“These muggles really didn’t tell you anything. Firs’ off. Most people just call me Hagrid. Haven’t been called Rubeus by a student in years.” He chuckled. “But a wizard is what you are, Harry. Let me ask you, have you ever had strange things happen to you when you were upset or afraid? Something… Magical.”
Harry thought about it. He did remember. When Aunt Petunia had tried to take the food away, it was the first time he remembered feeling true anger. The whole house shook like there was an earthquake for over a minute before things settled down again. It had only affected their neighborhood, and Harry had shrugged it off as a coincidence. But now that he thought about it, as soon as he calmed down the earthquake had stopped immediately. Had he been the cause?
“So you say I have this magic? So, I go to this Hogwarts place to help control it? Like what you did with the fire?”
Hagrid peered at Harry for a moment. “Huh. Tha’s right. Ya seem awful calm about this Harry. Are ya okay? I know it can be a lot at once.”
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Harry tried to understand the question for a moment before he realized the problem. “Sorry Hagrid, I’m always this calm. This is as shocked as I can be. When can we go to this place? I’d like to learn more about these powers.”
Hagrid snorted. “Fair enough. Didn’t mean to offend ya. If ye come with me now, we can get you started.”
Harry nodded and stood. “Okay, let’s go.”
As the two went to walk out the door, Uncle Vernon called out. “Stop right there, boy! You’re not going to some school for freaks. No one under my roof will be involved with those people.”
Harry froze and warred with himself. What is the right decision? He really wanted to go with Hagrid and learn more, but he was supposed to listen to his Uncle. “Don’t listen ta him, Harry. He can’t stop ya. Let’s go.”
Harry made his decision and turned back. “Sorry, Uncle. Bye.”
And with that, Harry followed Hagrid outside into the night.
— — —
Hagrid drove a flying motorcycle from the island to London. Harry sat in the sidecar and it took Hagrid’s reprimand to stop Harry from sticking his head out of the strange shield against the wind to try to inspect the thing more closely.
Hagrid parked the thing in some random parking space, just landing on some roof. They made their way down the building onto the street and Harry followed Hagrid as he led the way on foot. Eventually, they reached an old rundown pub. The Leaky Cauldron. The two entered inside and various people in strange clothing wandered about in long cloaks and pointed hats. Hagrid nodded to the bartender.
“Tom.”
“Hagrid. Who’s that with ya?”
Hagrid gestured silently to Harry who stood behind and slightly to the side.
“Merlin’s beard is that… Harry Potter? The boy who lived?”
A man at the bar’s head snapped around at the words. He was holding a newspaper on which the pictures were moving. The bartender extended his hand and Harry went to shake it in slight confusion. Did this person know him? The man shook his hand with enthusiasm.
“An honor to meet you, sir. Truly an honor.”
The bartender, Tom, let Harry’s hand go and he let it fall back to his side. Then the man from the bar stood and took a few steps forward and extended his hand as well.
“Harry Potter. To think I’d meet the famous Harry Potter…”
Hagrid ushered Harry out of there as more and more people started to approach. Harry just stood there shaking hands, unsure how he was supposed to react to this sudden attention. He had never had to deal with the brief attention of more than a couple of people on him at once before.
After Hagrid managed to extract Harry and chase off the stragglers, Hagrid and Harry came to a stop in front of a brick wall. Hagrid lifted his umbrella and tapped the bricks in a specific pattern. Then the bricks shifted and moved out of the way, revealing a bustling street lined with all sorts of magical seeming shops. Wands, flying broomsticks, potions ingredients, and magical animals. There were so many sights to see here, and Harry’s eyes and head rapidly bounced around as he tried to take it in all at once.
“C’mon Harry. Plenty of time ta see it all later. First, we gotta go to Gringotts and get you some wizarding money.”
“Gringotts?”
“Wizarding bank. Biggest in Britain in fact. I have an errand to run while we're there too. Look, it’s right down the way.”
Harry followed Hagrid’s finger and saw the polished white marble building. It had stone columns and a massive set of open front doors. It looked like some of the pictures of old Greek temples Harry had seen in a book he had very slowly read a few years ago.
They went inside and there were little men with sharp ears and long fingers in rows of desks lining either side of the hallway. Harry felt their eyes on them as they approached the end of the row to the tallest desk of the others. Hagrid leaned over as he saw Harry looking around at the little men.
“Goblins. Greedy buggers, but they don’t take kindly to thieves. No one better to guard people’s gold.”
They reached the desk at the end and the goblin peered down at them over the rim of his glasses. Hagrid spoke up.
“Pick up. From… You know which vault. And to the Potter’s vault for some money for Harry here.”
“Key,” the goblin said abruptly.
Hagrid’s hands shot to his coat and he felt around for a moment.
“Couda swore it was right… Ah, here.”
He took a slightly dirty key from his jacket and handed it to the Goblin. The goblin looked at it in disdain but went behind the desk and did something for a few seconds. He returned and returned the key to Hagrid.
“Valid. Griphook, escort them.”
Another goblin came forward and spoke in a harsh tone.
“Right this way please.”
Hagrid and Harry stepped into some kind of strange minecart on the tracks. With the pull of some levers, Griphook suddenly sent them shooting off into the dark passageways, only the light on the vehicle lighting the way as they raced down the tracks.
Hagrid cursed and gripped the side as Harry tried to see through the darkness into the amazing surroundings Harry was sure they were passing. He let himself lean side to side as the cart took sharp turns and abruptly changed speed on certain sections.
Finally, they lurched to a stop. Griphook stepped out, Hagrid and Harry following both a little unsteady on their feet. Griphook raised his hands and did something complex to the vault door in front of them. A minute later he turned around and put his hand out to Hagrid.
“Key,” Griphook said impatiently.
Hagrid handed it to him and the goblin inserted it into the door. When it was opened, Hagrid rushed in and placed the singular wrapped package in the center into his large coat. Griphook and Hagrid returned to the cart.
“Hagrid, what was that package?”
“Sorry Harry. Secret business of Dumbledore. Can’t tell ya much more.”
“Ok. That’s fine.”
Griphook manipulated the levers again and they continued blasting through the dark tunnels for a few more minutes before stopping again. The same procedure as before, but Hagrid produced a different key this time.
The vault door opened, and Harry’s eyes widened as he saw the massive stacks of gold filling the room. This was the money he had access to? He could buy so much food with this! And his school supplies too.
— — —
Hagrid stepped forward and began scooping a pile of gold coins into a pouch at his waist that seemed to never fill no matter how much he put in. Hagrid walked back to Harry and handed him the pouch once he was done.
“Didn’t think your parents left you with nothin’ did ya?”
Distracted from the gold in the pouch, Harry looked at Hagrid and his brow furrowed slightly in confusion. “Parents? They were rich? And wizards?”
Hagrid looked stricken.
“I… Surely I told ya? Must have slipped my mind. Didn’t ya wonder why people recognized you, why people called ya the Boy Who Lived?”
“Yes, I wondered. But I got distracted. What happened?”
Hagrid stood there as Griphook snorted and went back to the cart, seeming to sense Hagrid’s hesitation.
“Well, there was a great dark wizard that was spreadin’ terror throughout all of Britain. He had many followers, and it felt like no one could stop him. But your parents were fighting against him. When they had you they went into hiding. But the dark lord. He Who must not be named. Vol- Vol - Voldemort, found them. He tried ta kill ya as a baby, but somehow you survived his killing curse and He Who Must Not be Named died instead. Yer parents didn’t make it. Yer the Boy Who lived, Harry. The only one in history to survive a direct killing curse. The one who vanquished the dark lord. You're a celebrity.”
Harry’s chest felt tight for a moment, but the feeling went away a second later. What was happening to him? Why was he feeling all these things out of nowhere?
“Thanks, Hagrid. Now I know why I’m famous.”
Hagrid awkwardly patted him on the shoulder. “Errr. Sorry for sayin’ it like tha’. Yer so calm, I forgot how much it might affect you. It’s okay to be sad.”
“Hmmmm. Oh. Is that what this is? I was wondering why my body was slouching like that.”
Hagrid peered at him. “Harry, are ya saying you’ve never felt sad before? Ya don’t have to lie.”
Harry shrugged, not sure why he would lie about something as unimportant as that. But he diligently scanned his memory anyway. And to his surprise, he did find a few instances of that emotion before. The same sets of symptoms. But never so strong as now.
“I guess I have now that I think back. But never this strong before.”
Hagrid grunted as they made their way back into the minecart.
“It’s alright to show some emotions ya know, Harry. No need to hold back. Can’t have been too nice being around those nasty muggles you live with all the time. But yer not with them anymore.”
“Muggles?”
“Nonmagical people. Unlike wizards and other magical creatures like goblins.”
Griphook shot Hagrid a dirty look at that remark. Seemed he didn’t like being referred to as a ‘magical creature’.
They made their way to the surface and exited the doors of the bank back onto the street. Griphook just walked off without another word once they returned to the bank lobby. Time to get Harry’s school supplies.