Harry Potter and the Pretty Sorcerer's Balls

Harry's first surprise in the wizarding realm was the seemingly normal height and bulk range of the wizards and witches bustling about. He had expected them all to stand at least somewhat close to Hagrid's height. Not wanting to discomfort his new friend, Harry kept this observation to himself.

"Firs' things firs'," said Hagrid. "Business for Dumbledore."

"Who's Dumbledore?" Harry was now twisting and turning like a cat in the tumble dry, wishing he had about eight more eyes. He gawked in every direction as they walked up the street, feeling he would burst with all he took in.

"Who's Dumbledore?!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Professor Dumbledore's only the greatest wizard of our time, Harry, headmaster of Hogwarts he is. Sending us to Gringotts."

"What's Gringotts?"

"Wizards' bank," Hagrid answered. "Run by goblins." An hour earlier, Harry would have said with surety that the giant man was a lunatic, making a statement like that. Now he merely squealed gleefully.

"Goblins?! Heavens to Betsy, how dreadful!"

"Nah, goblins aren' so bad, yeh'll see. Still, goblins is goblins and they take things serious, so mind yeh never cross one."

"Why are we going there?" Harry struggled to keep up with Hagrid's long strides without falling over himself still looking every which way. Twice already, his eye had lingered too long on the dashing young men going about their day, and Hagrid had had to remind him to keep his eyes on the cobblestones.

"Like I said, fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' yeh - getting things from Gringotts - knows he can trust me, see."

"He doesn't mind me coming with you?" Harry inquired.

"Bah, it's fine," he answered. "Besides, we've got ter visit yer safe anyway, get yeh a bit of money fer yer supplies."

Harry's eyes lit up with surprise at the mention of his having a safe but they soon dimmed when he thought of something which made him feel as though the dancing queen inside him had twisted an ankle.

"Hagrid," he started with a teary sniff, "safe or not, I haven't any money."

"Oh Harry," Hagrid smiled, "d'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh with nothin'? Yer the last livin' Potter, heir to the family fortune."

Harry eyes widened in shock, and he wondered if the Dursleys desire to stamp the magic out of him extended to his bank vault. He wouldn't have been the least surprised to find the safe empty.

They continued to walk, and as Harry became more accustomed to the myriad of new and exciting things around him, he began to pay closer attention to the myriad of new and exciting people. To his dismay, he noticed them, pointedly noticing him as well. He grew very quiet.

"What's wrong little dainty?" Harry's eyes perked up at his new title. Unlike Uncle Vernon, Hagrid hadn't once sneered at his, well, not being a proper boy, and undoubtedly used this nickname with fondness. But the enormous man, was clearly an oddball as well, and from the looks Harry was getting from the people around him, Hagrid's acceptance was also an anomaly.

"Oh nothing," Harry sighed heavily. "But it's like they can spot me right away, and they don't like it. I thought maybe things would be different away from the Dursleys but I guess it just isn't."

"Oh Harry, they're just looking at yer clothes, they're muggle style - er - non magic folk that is - and they're not used to that aroun' here."

Harry nodded slowly, he's outfit did seem out of place, but still ...

"Now look here little dainty, I don't know what those muggles have been tellin' yer but it's just muggles who think it!" Hagrid pulled him aside and squatted down so he only towered over Harry by a few heads. "There's nothin' wrong with the way yeh are, not when yer here anyway."

"... Magic people don't mind ... that sort of thing?" Harry whispered cautiously, unable to believe what he was hearing.

"Harry," Hagrid began gently, "there've been countless inter - uh - well, lotsa cases o' wizards and witches marryin' creatures that aren' even human. Some may frown a bit on that but most don' say much. So wizards and wizards is as alrigh' as the next. Don't help with keepin' up our numbers though, that's the only real complaint. Yer a good boy, Harry, and don' yeh forget it."

Harry's eyes glistened with joyful tears.

"Come now, we've got business to take care of." And with that, they strode, heads held high - Harry with an extra prance in his step - to the snowy-white monolith of a building, Gringotts, the wizard bank.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the lavish entrance and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools, busy as bees behind a long counter. Hagrid and Harry approached quickly.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr Harry Potter's safe."

"You have his key, sir?" the goblin urged.

"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of mouldy dog-biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose.

Harry was questioning the presence of the dog-biscuits when his thoughts returned to what he might - or might not - find in his bank safe. He muffled a squeak at the dead frog and live dormouse Hagrid had just deposited onto the counter, and distracted himself by watching the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals. Elizabeth Taylor would have swooned, Harry clutched his chest.

"Got it," said Hagrid at last, turning Harry's attention back to the counter and saving him a moment of embarrassment as his knees were threatening to buckle. "An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin read the letter carefully, Harry raised up on his tiptoes, and did what he could to surreptitiously read the words through the paper. Feeling dumb as Dudley, he struggled with the spidery, opaque, backward, letters.

"Very well," the goblin said, handing the letter back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin, though younger and rather more dapper than most of the others in Gringotts. "This way Mr Potter," he invited, bowing his head slightly.

Harry skipped with his daintiest steps to catch up to the gracious goblin. "This way, indeed!" he giggled, all concern for the state of his vault forgotten.

Griphook led them towards one of the doors leading off the hall. He held the door open for Harry, who, expecting more marble, was more than a bit surprised at what stood before him. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downwards and there were little railway tracks on the floor.

Harry laced his arm through Griphook's, "This must be the spookiest place I've ever been!" he whimpered.

"Not to worry Mr Potter." Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks towards them. The trio climbed in - Hagrid with some difficulty, Harry with Griphook's assistance - and were off.

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages, Harry kept his head firmly pressed into Griphook's arm, emitting shrill sounds of ail at each particularly sharp turn.

By the time the cart had stopped - and Harry had been prised from Griphook's arm - Hagrid was looking very green. He had to lean against a wall when they got out to stop his knees trembling. Harry however, was jumping up and down with anticipation, showing no signs of his earlier anxiety.

Hagrid leaned close to Harry and grinned. "I'm guessin' yer weren't so frightened as yeh'd have us think," he whispered.

Harry grinned guiltily behind his hand.

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came bellowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold, silver and bronze coins.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

Much to Hagrid and Griphook's amusement, Harry, unable to stop himself, dove into the pile of money headfirst. He squealed with glee and threw coins into the air. It was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than a finger snap.

"All right, little Dainty," Hagrid stopped his play finally, "we don't want the Dursleys wakin' up before yer returned, best be getting' on." Hagrid helped Harry pile some gold, silver, and bronze into his shoulder bag while explaining the names and values distinguishing the coins.

They made their way back into the cart and sped deeper and deeper into Gringotts underground tunnels.

They stopped suddenly at their destination.

Unlike the Potter family vault, vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyholes.

"Stand back," said Griphook. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it shimmered slightly. "There's something wrong here," he informed venomously.

A black cloaked figure burst from the shimmering door, crashing hard into Griphook, knocking the goblin into the side of the cart, he slumped to the floor. The cloaked figure gasped in shock and in an instant had armed itself with a slim stick about the length of a ruler. Hagrid charged at the figure causing it to drop a small package it had been carrying. With a flash of light much like the one that came from Hagrid's umbrella earlier, Hagrid's legs had collapsed beneath him.

Harry saw the desperate look in Hagrid's eyes when the small package went flying. It was evident that 'it' was the important bit of business Professor Dumbledore had sent him to retrieve. Headfirst, Harry dove again, and almost instantly felt himself being manhandled by the cloaked figure, in its effort to reach the package first.

Harry wrestled with the ferocity of a perpetual bridesmaid trying to catch the bouquet. His hands closed around the parcel which he tucked into his pants in a flash, and locked himself in the foetal position, arms wrapped around his legs. The bandit was upon him, strong, vicious hands clawing, struggling to pry his arms and legs from the treasure encased between. Suddenly the weight ceased, Harry lifted his head to see Hagrid holding the cloaked man by the neck. Another bright flash lit the dark passage, and Hagrid stumbled back. The would be thief had fled.

"You saved me!" Harry squealed, clapping his hands.

Hagrid hoisted Griphook to his feet, then turned back to an exhilarated Harry. "Yeh still got the package?" he questioned with notable worry.

Harry wiggled his hips, then did a skip and a dance with his right leg. After a moment, the parcel slipped out of his pants at the hem. With a laugh turned snort, Hagrid tucked it away into one of his many pockets.

"Good job little dainty," said Hagrid.

Back on his feet, Griphook emitted a piercing, echoing, horrible sort of whistle. Not an instant later the area was flooded with more goblins than Harry could count. A number of them were examining the now bare vault, apparently the small parcel was the vault's sole resident. Others were writing reports and taking statements from Hagrid and Harry. Harry noted the barely perceptible, collective pause in the hustle and bustle, when he stated his name for the report. Finally Griphook was given leave to escort Hagrid and Harry to the entrance.

Harry clung to Hagrid's arm during the cart-ride back.

Soon they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts, the excitement behind them and new adventures to be had. Harry felt as though he had ants in his pants, each pulling him in a different direction, his bag full of money like a key to the city, permitting him entrance to any shop he desired. He didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a Gucci clutch to understand that he was holding more money than he'd ever dreamt of having at one time.

Hagrid hunted through yet another series of pockets before handing Harry a crumpled list of items and supplies he would need for the coming school year.

"Might as well get yer uniform," he said, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off for a pick-me-up in the pub? I hate them Gringotts carts.' He did still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, positively glistening with excitement for the first brand new items of clothing he had ever owned.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

Harry gazed about in fascination, his mouth gaped wide. One would think his feet were glued to the floor but it was his effort to run in all directions at once that keep him in place. The shop was filled with glorious bolts of fabric in every colour imaginable, racks upon racks of gowns and dresses, and rows of hats, gloves, purses, and shoes.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harry had finally managed to close his mouth. "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes.

"The Hogwarts uniform is a dress?" Harry asked quietly, trembling with anticipation.

"Robes dear." That was good enough.

Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to the pale boy, slipped a long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length. "Stop dancing dear, or we'll never get it pinned right." Harry settled down.

"Hullo," said the pale boy, "Hogwarts too, then?"

"Yes!" Harry squealed.

The boy smirked, while being told to hold still by the witch working on him.

Harry halted Madam Malkin's progress and stepped down from the stool. "That cut is all wrong for him," he huffed.

Madam Malkin stood up and smiled, "It's a uniform dear, we can't do much about the cut."

Harry argued for a moment before arming himself with a pincushion and setting upon the protesting pale boy. Between the three of them, they had the boy looking much less like a rake in a potato sac and more like a young man in a set of posh robes.

"I won't have a fine boy of obvious good standing sent off to school looking a fright!" Harry tossed his head and grinned at the now bewildered boy who was obviously struggling to regain his composure. Harry leaped back up onto his footstool. "Now," he instructed, "the same for me."

"Do you live around here?" Harry asked the formally pale, now red-faced boy.

"Not really, why?"

"Oh, I just thought, since you're here by yourself, and all ..."

"Oh no, my father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. In spite of the previous excitement, he had a bored, drawling voice. "Though I've been here tons of times before." He leaned toward Harry conspiratorially, "I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms when I'm done here. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

"Is your father the sort who'd let himself be bullied?" Harry asked coyly.

"No!" the boy sneered.

"Then it won't get you anywhere, will it? Sweet talk and flattery is the way to go, honey. Though I don't see what you want a broom for if we don't need them." Harry couldn't imagine himself willingly participating in a sweeping competition, racing brooms indeed!

"You don't play Quidditch at all?"

"I have no idea," Harry giggled, "but I supposed I don't."

The boys' demeanour darkened instantly, though he brightened again after a moment. "Ah, of course, you're not one for sports."

Harry giggled again and shook his head, jumping rope never seemed to qualify as such.

"Know what house you'll be in yet?"

Harry threw his hands in the air, "Not a clue." He grinned.

The boy grinned back, "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Well if we had to go on names alone - Hufflepuff's surely where I'd want to be!" the boys laughed. Harry smiled coyly, "Though that Slytherin of yours is sounding good as well. I suppose we'll have to wait and see."

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding towards the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," said Harry beaming with pride at his hero. "He works at Hogwarts," he continued, "he's the Keeper of Keys and Grounds," and mystery parcels, he added to himself.

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he? I've heard he's practically a savage - lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I should think not! He saved me from certain death in the Gringotts bank just minutes ago!"

The pale boy looked doubtfully out the window. "Right," he said derisively

"Yes, that's right you scoundrel! He's just about the bravest man I've ever met, and if I hear another word against him, I'll slap you silly!"

"Hey, don't get your panties in a twist," said the boy, "I just said I'd heard."

"Well you heard wrong."

The boy shrugged dismissively. "Why is he with you, anyway?" he asked. "Where are your parents?"

Harry cocked his eyebrow and waved his finger at the impudent boy, "Unlike your parents who I'm sure are doing errands in a sheer effort to avoid being in your presence, mine aren't here because they're dead."

"Oh ... "

Before they could continue, Madam Malkin said "That's you done, dear," and Harry hopped down from the footstool.

The pale boy wasn't finished, "But they were our kind, weren't they, your parents?" he asked after him.

"If they were our kind, I'd likely not have been born now would I? Oh no, my Dad was married to a woman."

The first lick of ice cream - real honest to goodness ice cream! - cooled any lingering anger at that preposterous boy. At first he ate slowly, wanting to relish what might be the only dessert like this he would ever enjoy - even at the Dursleys he was rarely allowed to indulge in the sugary concoctions he baked for them. Then the weight of his shoulder bag reminded him that there were still heaps of money awaiting him in his Gringotts vault! He was a wizard, not a freak, a good boy, not a miscreant leading boys astray! This was just where he belonged. His content, after the ice cream was finished, came more from knowing that it would not be his last, than from the delicious ice cream itself.

Much of the rest of the day went by in a blissful blur. Finally, they bought Harry's schoolbooks in a shop call Flourish and Blotts. Harry, who had never been allowed his own books had, in rebellion, developed a love of reading to spite the Dursleys forced literary deprivation.

"Hagrid?" he asked, "have we taken enough money for me to get a few extra things?"

Hagrid smiled, "You get what yeh like little dainty and I'll let you know if yeh need to stop."

Harry wandered through the towering shelves and selected a number of extra books for his pile. Hagrid glanced over them and, with a chuckle, returned Perilio Kadavena (100 Legal Curses the Ministry Wishes Weren't!) to the shelves. After a moment of indecision, Hagrid replaced it with The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts.

"What's that for?"

Hagrid shuffled with unease, "... I think yeh'll find it handy, is all." He brightened. "Just yer wand left - oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."

Harry's cheeks flushed. "You already brought me the cake, that's more than enough." He didn't want Hagrid to think him a burden.

"That was a jus' a cake, little dainty. Oh come now, I can't imagine those muggles have bought yeh so many gifts that yeh really don't want one more." He marvelled at Harry who was still shaking his head. "Blimey Harry, yeh act like yeh've never got a present before." Hagrid stiffened suddenly in understanding. "What kin' of horrible place did I fetch yeh from?" he muttered. His eyes were mournful but determined. "That settles it, I'll get yeh yer owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer post an' everythin'," his eyes glinted, "that way if the Dursleys mess about, yeh can send word to me right away an' let me take care of 'em."

Harry grinned and twenty minutes later, they left Eyelops Owl Emporium carrying a large cage containing a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. He couldn't stop stammering his tear-filled thanks.

"Don't mention it, little dainty," said Hagrid gruffly, blinking back his own tears. "Just yer wand left now. Ollivanders then, best place fer wands, and yeh can't skimp on that."

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the narrow and rather shabby shop as they stepped inside. The entire place seemed to tingle as if the air itself was electric, Harry's nose seemed to tickle breathing it in.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped.

A handsome older gentleman was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moonbeams, lighting the shop.

"Hello," Harry did his best to present himself with proper decorum.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter."

Harry's eyes widened, this man knew his name!

The man moved closer to Harry, so close in fact that they were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes. If either of them leaned even a centimetre or two forward ... Harry couldn't hold back a small giggle at the thought. The man didn't flinch but merely grinned slightly.

"And that's where ..."

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long white finger.

Harry shivered, his heart a flutter.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly, and with that, he turned away sharply and walked briskly to a back room.

Harry turned to Hagrid, who stood hunched half over to lean on the register counter. "Whatever did he mean?" he gushed, "I got this scar in the ..." Harry drifted off. "My parents didn't die in a car crash, did they?" he asked, his eyes wholly innocent.

"... Let's jus' get yer wand, little dainty, an' we'll talk about this after." Hagrid looked miserable and as this really wasn't the place to discuss such matters, Harry agreed.

Mr Ollivander returned with a single, slim, wooden box. He stood silently, looking deeply into Harry's eyes with an appraising set of his own. Finally, he nodded once to himself in apparent decision. He opened the box and presented Harry with a long slim wand.

"Just take it and give it a wave, before I change my mind about this."

Harry took the wand. He gasped at the sudden warmth in his fingers - it was as though the thrill of a hundred Brad Pitt movies watched back to back had been concentrated into his hand. Any remaining doubts about his actually being a wizard disappeared in a flash. He twirled his wrist about - talk to the hand fashion - and with a flurry of twinkling pink and gold sparks a beautiful rainbow shot out of the end, throwing rays of colour and sparkle onto the walls of the old shop. Hagrid whooped and cheered while Mr Ollivander looked at him intently once again, this time with a small but satisfied smile.

"The wand chooses the wizard Mr Potter, and a very powerful one has chosen you." Mr Ollivander leaned in close once again. "Holly and Phoenix feather, eleven inches ... It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave one other feather - just one. I think we must expect great things from one destined to wield this wand, when its brother - why, it's brother gave you that scar.

Harry let out a strangled shriek, and nearly collapsed into Hagrid's leg for support. Hagrid fumbled in Harry's shoulder bag for the seven gold Galleons to pay for the wand, then hustled him out of the store.

"There is only one wand whose sale I've regretted, Mr Potter, do not make me regret another." Mr Ollivander's quiet words followed them to the door.

The mid afternoon sun hung low in the sky when Harry and Hagrid exited the shop. "It's almost time ter get yeh back, how's about we 'ave a bite an' see if we can't straighten a few things out?"

They sat down for an early dinner but Harry could only pick at his food. Hagrid started quietly.

"I wasn't sure what them muggles musta told yeh about how yer parents died, but if they didn' even tell yeh, yeh were a wizard then I knew whatever they said couldn' a been the truth." Hagrid took a very deep breath. "They were murdered, Harry, by a very powerful, very evil wizard. An' yeh've got that scar from when he tried to kill yeh too."

"But," Harry asked, eyes as wide as they could go. "What happened?"

"Well I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great mystery, parts of it, but ... it begins, I suppose with ... with - I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?"

"Gallopin' Gorgons, Harry, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went ... bad. As bad as you could go. Worse even. Worser than worse. His name was ..."

Hagrid gulped but no words came out.

"Maybe you could sing it?" Harry suggested.

"I can't carry a tune. All right - Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this - this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too - some were afraid, some jus' wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was gettin' himself power, all right. Dark days, little dainty. Didn't know who ter trust ... Terrible things happened. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school.

"Now, all anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where you was all living, on Hallowe'en ten years ago. Yeh was just a year old. And that's when ..." Hagrid pulled out a very dirty spotted handkerchief, Harry flicked it away and gave him a clean beige one from the few he had snagged from the Yellow Tuna's linens. This seemed to make Hagrid's tears flow even faster. "Sorry," he said, dabbing his eyes. "But its that sad - knew yer mum and da', an nicer people yeh couldn't find ... Anyway, that's when he got them, then he tried to get yeh too. Don' know why exactly. No one does I suppose.

"That scar is what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh - took care of yer mum and da' it did, but it didn't work on yeh. Yer the only one to ever live through the killin' curse, little dainty, and yeh were just'a baby."

Harry saw, in his minds eye, something that had found its way into his nightmares on more than one occasion: a blinding flash of god awful -nothing will ever match with that - green light. It was clearer now than he had ever envisioned it before.

"But what happened to Voldemort?"

Hagrid cringed, "You-Know-Who, little dainty, call 'im You-Know-Who."

"Sorry, so what happened to this Yoo-Hoo scoundrel, then?"

"Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried to kill you. Some say he died, curse bounced back at him or something like that - codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers, too weak to carry on. 'Cause something about yeh stumped him that night."

"Were you there? However do you know all of this?"

"Everybody knows, little dainty. Yer famous. There isn't a witch or wizard doesn't know yer name."

Harry squeaked in stunned disbelief.

"If yeh read that book I put on yer pile yeh'll understand it better than I can tell it."

Harry nodded.

Hagrid begun piling his bags into his cauldron and looping everything together with a piece of twine from one of his pockets. "Don't want yeh to leave anything behind fer the trip back."

Harry planted his feet and held onto the owl cage tightly. Hagrid kneeled low with Harry's purchases in one hand, he wrapped the other holding the newspaper portkey around Harry's waist to keep him from falling and squashing the owl. Harry grabbed onto the newspaper and with the telltale navel pull, they were back inside the front hall of number four Privet Drive.

A snort from the kitchen told them that the Dursleys were still in potion induced sleep. Hagrid took this time to hand Harry a thick envelope.

"First o' September - King's Cross - it's all on yer ticket."

"Hagrid?" said Harry. "Whatever will I tell the Dursleys when they wake up?"

"Yer worried they might still keep yeh from Hogwarts?"

Harry nodded.

"Not to worry little dainty, Dumbledore has thought of everything, great man, he. Yeh just put yer things away and put that envelope on the table so they see it first thing when they wake up. Yeh'll see they won' dare try holdin' yeh back." He laughed. "And if they do, yeh'll send yer owl double quick and we'll just sen' over some more o' that tea now won't we?"