Tangled Fates

Chapter Number: 04
Chapter Name: Don’t Fear the Reaper

Harry entered the stone cottage, at once feeling awfully at home. Hagrid motioned to an enormous table and chair set in front of the fire. "Sit down there, Harry." Harry sat, looking back at Hagrid while he bustled about the adjoining kitchen, preparing a tray of tea and biscuits, most of which looked surprisingly inedible.

Hagrid settled himself across the large butcher-block table from Harry. "How’re ye doin’, Harry? I didn’ know ye were back a’ Hogwarts!"

Harry smiled, accepting the cup that Hagrid offered him. "Professor Lupin came and got me only a couple days ago. It’s really weird being here. I never even knew I was magic until Remus told me!"

"Ha! James an’ Lily’s son, not bein’ magic? Tha’s a laugh!"

"What do you mean?"

"Yer mum an’ dad were as good a witch an’ wizard as I ever seen! Head Boy and Girl here a’ Hogwarts in their day! Why, I reckon yer name’s been down fer Hogwarts since ye’ve been born!"

"Really?" Harry paused. It was awfully easy to confide in Hagrid; he felt like he’d known him forever. Something about his cheerful face made it easy to open up. "That’s another thing. Everyone knows more about me and my family than I do! My Uncle Vernon told me all he could about my mum and dad, although he didn’t really know them very well and my Aunt Petunia refuses to ever speak of them. I just had a horrible fight with Remus and Minerva just now about practically the same thing." He paused again. "Can I ask you something, Hagrid?"

Hagrid put down his cup and looked Harry right in the face. "What is it?"

"Do you know anyone named Sirius Black?"

At these words, Hagrid jumped up from the table, eyes aflame with anger. "Why tha’ good-fer-nothin’, low-down, dirty tosser! Murderin’ traitor, that one is!"

"Then you know what he did?"

"Professor Dumbledore tol’ me all about Sirius Black after we dropped you off a’ yer Uncle’s house. I never woulda’ believed it if I hadn’ heard it fer meself! Yer father an’ Black were the best o’ friends a’ school an’ a nicer kid yeh couldn’t find. Let me tell you now, Harry, if I e’er see that two-face’ dog, I’ll rip ‘im apart with me own two hands! Lily an’ James! Two nicer people yeh couldna find!" Hagrid dissolved into sobs, burying his face in an enormous flannel handkerchief.

Harry sat silently, not knowing what to do. He’d never seen anyone like this before. "It’s okay, Hagrid." He said quietly.

Hagrid righted his chair and sat down. "I’m sorry fer reactin’ like that, Harry. Dunno what came over me."

"It’s all right. I’m afraid I just did the same thing to Minerva and Remus up at the school. I feel really bad about it now. I just blew up about this whole Black thing. I don’t even know why, really, just that they didn’t tell me before. And I didn’t even think about Remus’s feelings! He was friends with my dad and Black! It must be loads worse for him." Harry sank down in the chair, eyes averted, feeling very foolish.

"I don’ blame yeh for actin’ out, Harry. You got some devastatin’ news about the family yeh’d never known an’ yeh reacted instinctively. Nothin’ to be ashamed of."

"I guess you’re right. I won’t feel better until I apologize, though."

Hagrid smiled. "Yeh’re a good kid, Harry, yeh know that?"

Harry laughed, waving a hand as if to say, "Yeah, go on."

The two talked together for a bit before darkness fell, making Harry feel it was time to return to the castle.

"Thanks, Hagrid. For everything. I’ll come down and visit you again soon."

Hagrid swept Harry up in another bone crushing hug. "I’ll be waitin’ fer yeh!"

Harry mounted his broom and took flight, heading for his third-story bedroom window. Floating gently through the open drapes, he set down next to his bed, resolving to rise early the next morning to make amends with Remus and Minerva.

* * * * *

The next day, at daybreak Harry woke up, quite relieved that there had been no dreams that night. Feeling antsy, he dressed quickly in a pair of white mesh shorts and a navy t-shirt and padded down the hallways and out to the lawns, determined to set out on a good run.

He jogged over the whole grounds, seeing rose gardens he’d never noticed before and marveling at the very size of the property Hogwarts possessed. It was a beautiful morning and as he ran, there was only the earth and himself; separate from everything—from magic, from dreams, from reality—and it was wonderful.

The sun streaked through the trees on the fringe of the forest, creating strange shadows on the green grass beneath. He moved quickly and fluidly through the shadows, skimming the grass with the slightest touch of his sneakers, flying in his own special way.

He moved faster and faster, becoming one with the fluid movement that running was. His muscles liquefied, stretching, reaching farther and farther with every footfall. He fell forward, landing on all fours; paws extended and ready to carry him faster than he’d ever dreamed.

His coat gleamed with an unearthly shine, golden brown and black fur stretched tautly over rippling muscles. His emerald green cat eyes shone brilliantly in the sunlight, reflecting both wisdom and an intensely animalistic sense at the same time.

Time halted and all stood still. Man and beast merged in this perfect union and nothing was ever so natural, so free, as this flight-on-land on a summer’s morning.

The air around him shimmered and feet and legs grew in place of paws and raw muscle. The spell was broken and yet, he continued to run, trying, but failing, to achieve the same equilibrium between man and nature that he had had only moments before.

He disappeared into the castle, not noticing the large form of Rubeus Hagrid standing stock-still, gaping in amazement.

* * * * *

Harry showered quickly, the adrenaline of the run still pulsing through his veins. He trotted down to the Great Hall, looking out for his professors who had become his friends, resolute to apologize.

Much to his surprise, Hagrid was there, speaking rapidly and gesturing madly. Harry walked up behind Hagrid. "Hey! What are you doing here?"

Hagrid jumped, looking ashamed. "Uh, hello there, Harry."

Minerva spoke. "Hagrid was just filling us in on something."

"Oh." Harry paused. "I’ve been meaning to speak with you, Professors."

Remus and Minerva looked worriedly at each other.

"I just wanted to say that I’m terribly sorry about how I acted yesterday. It was inexcusable and very rude. I hope you’ll accept my apology."

Remus smiled uneasily. "Oh, well, we accept." He stopped, looking at Minerva for confidence. "Are you sure there’s nothing else you wanted to tell us?"

Harry was confused. "No," he said warily. "Should there be?"

"Where were you this morning, Harry?" Minerva questioned.

"Oh! I went for a run this morning, but that’s it. I am allowed to that here, right?"

"Yes, but that’s not the point. Hagrid says he saw you change into an animal. Why didn’t you tell us you could change so fluidly?"

Hagrid was looking down, blinking back tears at having betrayed Harry. "I’ve never seen an’thin’ like what I saw today."

Harry was staring at his professors, extremely perplexed. "Excuse me, but wouldn’t I know if I had done something like that?"

"You don’t remember?" Remus looked worried. "Hagrid said you were running by the lake and all of a sudden, you transformed into a large cat, like a cheetah or a leopard, and then you changed back into yourself."

Harry sat down hard on the ground. He had a vague memory of running faster than he’d ever imagined, low and steady to the ground, feeling like the very essence of magic itself. "I remember running—it was different this time, it was like I was part of the Earth rather than standing outside. I ran faster than I’d ever before. It was incredible. But I honestly don’t remember transforming into a cheetah."

"Harry, I’m not going to lie to you. This could be a very serious situation if you can’t control these changes. You could transform in the middle of a class or something. We can’t risk students being hurt like that, and—"

"What? Are you sending me home?" Harry cried, indignant."

Minerva spoke slowly. "No, I’m not going to send you home, however, your magical training with Professor Lupin, as well as the other professors as soon as they come back from holiday must be greatly accelerated. You need to understand the power you possess, and then, hopefully, you’ll learn to harness it. You were a very powerful wizard in your own right, and that was before the Dark Lord transferred his powers to you that night. You need to understand, Harry, that you have to be in control all the time. We can help you learn, but we cannot protect you from yourself. Do you understand?"

"I do. I’ll do anything I need, just tell me what it is."

"Right. It’s good to see that you have enough courage to go through with this. Your lessons will recommence immediately. Luckily, our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor will be returning in two weeks, along with our Potions professor, and so they will be able to instruct you more in those areas." Minerva paused. "There is something else we need to discuss, though."

"Yes, professor?"

"In two weeks time, most of our students and professors will be returning early. They’ll only be here for the day, but you may want to stay out of sight for a little bit. I don’t know if it would be a good idea if Harry Potter were to show up at this."

"What’s going on, Minerva?"

"There’s a memorial service. One of our students gave his life during the battle here at Hogwarts. He threw himself in front of Dumbledore, blocking him from the Avada Kedavra curse, giving him time to prepare the spell that eventually won the fight for us. His name was Cedric Diggory. He was our Head Boy and a great man." Both Remus and Minerva looked as though they were holding back tears at the end of this statement. Hagrid, however, was bawling openly.

Harry bowed his head. "He sounds like an incredibly brave person. I wish I could have had the chance to have known him."

Minerva sighed. "He was. He was the living persona of all the traits that Hufflepuff house possessed. This service will be very hard to sit through. Diggory was very well liked and his loss was taken hard. I just think it would be better if you didn’t make your first appearance at this, you know?"

"Of course. I wouldn’t want to take any of the attention off of Cedric at all."

"Good. Then that’s settled. Please excuse me, I have business to attend to, and I believe that you and Professor Lupin have some work to do." Minerva got up, curtly nodded to Harry and left quickly.

The Hall was silent for a moment. Finally Remus spoke. "Come on, Harry. We’ve got a lot to cover."

He waved goodbye to Hagrid and silently followed Remus to the Transfiguration room.

* * * * *

Time passed quickly at Hogwarts, for Harry was quite busy learning all he could in such a short time. He and Remus had covered the entire fourth year curriculum, although, he was quite behind in Potions and Herbology. Still, everyone was pleased with Harry’s progress. Minerva had even decided to start Harry in the fifth year, instead of the fourth as she had originally planned.

The days went quickly and the nights were relatively uneventful. Harry had not had any more dreams since that first night, and was quite glad for it. Before he knew it, it was the day of Cedric Diggory’s memorial service.

The Great Hall was decked in solemn black flags, all showing respect to the fallen student. Harry stood in his window, watching a scarlet streak speed up to the station in Hogsmeade. That was the Hogwarts Express, he knew, and that meant that the guests had arrived.

He walked slowly down to the Hall, looking for Remus to tell him that the train had arrived. He kind of wanted to go to the service, to get a feel for the people he would shortly be attending school with, but, he knew he’d feel horribly out of place there and knew it really was for the best that he not attend.

He turned the corner and promptly fell, tripping over a small, huddled figure dressed entirely in black.

"Oh!" the figure cried as Harry hit the floor beside her.

Harry sat dazed on the floor, absently rubbing his hip where he had smacked it off the hard stone floor.

She stood up, hastily wiping her eyes. "Here," she said, extending a hand, "let me help you up."

Harry gratefully accepted the hand and got to his feet. "I’m terribly sorry, miss. I didn’t see you there."

She gave kind of a miserable giggle. "No, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t be sitting in the middle of the hallway, anyway." She brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Are you here for the service? You don’t look familiar."

Harry stood for a minute, looking at the girl in front of him. She was dressed in floor-length black robes, which suited her stick-straight jet-black hair perfectly. She was very beautiful, although her eyes were unmistakably red-rimmed from crying. For a minute, Harry was quite glad that he had dressed well today, before cringing. No one was supposed to see him today. He instinctively willed some of his power to cover up his scar. Tentatively, he reached up a hand and felt a smooth forehead. Amazed, Harry replied to the girl. He hadn’t really expected that to work. "Oh, no. I’m a new student and I’m just staying here to get a bit caught up."

"Oh." Her eyes filled with tears again. "My name is Cho Chang. Cedric was my boyfriend."

Harry’s heart melted in pity for this little slip of a girl who was trying so hard to be strong. "I’m very sorry. Minerva—I mean, Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin told me what happened."

This time she broke down in heart-wrenching sobs. "He was so stupid! He wasn’t even supposed to be there! We were all supposed to stay in the castle and then I couldn’t find him and I saw him running out of the Hall and I couldn’t catch him! If I was faster, I could have gotten to him and stopped him from going! I could have saved him, but I wasn’t good enough!"

Harry reached out an awkward hand, patting her shoulder. Without hesitation, Cho fell into his arms, sobbing into his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, whispering that it would be all right.

A few minutes had passed and Cho’s sobs had subsided. Her breathing was still ragged and uneven, and Harry still held her close, letting her calm down. Hastily, she pulled away, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"I’m so sorry! Here I am, crying in a complete stranger’s arms! You must think a fool of me!"

"Oh, no! It’s perfectly all right. I don’t mind."

"You’re a very kind person, you know that? What’s your name, anyway?"

"I’m Harry. Harry—um—Dursley." He stammered.

Cho smiled weakly. "It was very good to meet you, Harry Dursley. I think I have to go now, but I’ll see you later."

"Yeah, sure. It was good to meet you, too. Good luck, Cho."

She nodded once in reply and walked silently away. Harry stared after her for a moment before returning to his room. He couldn’t risk being seen by anyone else that day.

* * * * *

The ceremony went well, although there were a good deal of tears shed that day. When everyone had left, Harry retreated from his room, looking for Remus once again to tell him about what he had done to his scar. After he had left Cho, he had made the scar reappear, and he had regained energy he hadn’t even known he had lost. Harry guessed it had taken much more magic to hide the scar than he had estimated, although he really wanted Remus’s opinion on the subject.

He found Remus in his office, pouring over a thin black book and looking quite melancholy.

Harry rapped softly on the door, entering as he did so. "Remus?"

Remus looked startled, slamming the book shut as he looked up. "Yes, Harry?"

"Is this a bad time? I have something to talk to you about."

"Not at all. Have a seat." He motioned to the chair across from him. Harry sat down.

"Earlier today, I was walking around the Great Hall and I tripped over this girl. I didn’t want anyone to know who I was, so I tried to hide my scar. It was an instinctive thing—like I somehow knew how to do it and I just did it. But I willed my scar to be gone and it was!"

Remus leaned forward on his arms. "Are you saying that you can consciously alter your appearance?"

"I think so. It was almost like I rerouted some of my magic directly into covering up my scar. The only thing was that when I made it reappear, I felt so funny—like I was exerting so much more energy than I realized and it all came rushing back at once."

Remus massaged his temples, looking perplexed. "This is pretty big, Harry. Most full-grown wizards cannot do what you have just said you accomplished. In fact, really only the Aurors still do it when they need to be especially discreet. It’s a very magically draining process. I’m surprised you’re able to walk around now, actually."

"I feel fine, though."

"Well, you’re certainly a special wizard, Harry. There seem to be special circumstances concerning everything when it comes to you."

"I guess." Harry felt uncomfortable. "But wouldn’t it be better if I wouldn’t have to deal with all that? I mean, if people didn’t know that there was anything special about me to look for?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I told this girl Cho Chang, that my name was Harry Dursley and I was thinking that if I continued to go by that name and hid my scar then no one would have to know who I really was and I wouldn’t get any special treatment from anybody."

"Actually, Minerva and I were debating whether or not to have you use an alias. If this is something you’d like to do, then go ahead. I’ll let Minerva know so nobody spills the beans. But, are you sure about this? I told you, changing your appearance really drains you and you could have that screen up all year. It would be really difficult for you. I don’t want you to get sick."

"It’ll be okay. I want to do this. You saw how everyone reacted when they heard my name in Diagon Alley. I want to succeed on my own, not for being Harry Potter, but just for being Harry."

"That’s very admirable, Harry. I understand where you’re coming from and I think we should give it a shot. But for now, you had better go to bed. Your new professors are back and lessons start first thing tomorrow."

"Is it that bad, Remus?"

"Well, let’s just say that it’s hard to get along with these professors sometimes."

"Ah. Thanks for the heads-up. I’ll see you at breakfast?"

"Sure. Good night, Harry."

"’Night, Remus."

* * * * *

Harry sat in the Defense classroom for at least fifteen minutes, nervously tapping his wand against the desk, waiting for the as-yet-unnamed professor to make his entrance.

Suddenly, the door burst in and an extremely ill tempered looking man with a curtain of lank black hair and a large nose stormed in.

"Potter." The word was spit out with such venom that Harry impulsively recoiled.

"Um, hello. You must be the Defense—"

The man cut him off. "If I had asked you to speak, then I would care to listen to you, but since I did not, be quiet!"

Harry sat perfectly still.

"I am Professor Snape and I will be teaching you the basics of Defense Against the Dark Arts. And do not think for one moment that I appreciate having to cut my own holiday short just to teach our new resident celebrity privately."

Harry gulped. "Actually, Professor, I’d rather not anyone know about that."

Snape smirked. "Yes, the Headmistress mentioned something about that. So, Mr. Potter, you want to be incognito while you’re here at school. Well, you can be sure I won’t say anything about it—you certainly don’t need anymore fame going to your head or else you’ll turn out just like your father and no one wants that."

Harry bristled. "I would be proud to turn out like my father. He was a good man."

Snape laughed coldly. "Your father was not perfect, Potter, so don’t get any deluded impressions of your ‘saintly father’."

"I never said he was perfect, Professor Snape. Why do you hate him so much?" Harry was quite angry.

"Your father had a tendency to strut about like owned this school. I do not like conceited athletes like him and I trust that will be enough for you. Now, if you’ve finished wasting my time, get out your book and turn to page two sixty-five..."

* * * * *

After three of the most excruciating hours of his life, Harry retreated to the Great Hall for lunch and a well-needed break from Professor Snape. He seated himself next to Remus, sighing deeply as he did.

"Have a good morning, Harry?" Remus asked.

"Ugh. Why does he hate me so much? All he did was sit there and belittle my intelligence and make stupid cracks about my dad. It really wasn’t a good day so far."

"Yes, Severus was at school with your father and me. Never really got on, though. Surprisingly, ever since he’d gotten the Defense post he’s been rather bearable. I was hoping he’d be civil to you."

"Actually, the first thing he did was yell at me for trying to say ‘hello’."

"Severus was never one for pleasantries."

"Yeah, I gathered. Wait—what’s the Potions Master like?"

"That’s Professor Gudgeon. He’s basically all right. He had a mishap with the Whomping Willow when we were at school and lost an eye—still gets rather tetchy about that sometimes."

"He doesn’t hold any weird grudges against my father though?"

Remus laughed. "No, I think you’re safe there."

"Good. I don’t think I could stand much more. Do you know how much work Snape assigned for tomorrow? I’ll be busy all night!"

"Get used to it, Harry. You’ll work hard here. That reminds me, term begins in a week and you and I will be heading back to Diagon Alley to get your course books and robes, so you’ll want to get ready for that. You’ll be beginning your little disguise then, right?"

"Yeah. Wow. I hadn’t realized school started so soon. I’m kind of excited, but then again, I’ve always liked school. Danny always made fun of me for that."

"Well, that’s because you’re too smart for your own good."

"Yeah, and I’m a naturally talented athlete, too."

"And ever so modest."

"Yeah, that too."

* * * * *

Soon enough, Harry found himself tripping through the green fire into The Leaky Cauldron once more. He felt a lot less conspicuous, his scar safely concealed beneath a layer of magic and with Remus guaranteeing not to use the name "Potter" all day.

He bought long black robes that were to be worn on top of pressed gray pants, a blue-gray sweater vest and white oxford shirt at Madame Malkin’s and then hurried over to Flourish and Blotts to pick up his required books. Remus had him buy not only the fifth-year books, but also those obligatory for the sixth year, explaining that Professor McGonagall had decided to have try to pass his O.W.L.s shortly after the beginning of term. These results would be used to see whether or not Harry would move to sixth year courses. Remus was confident that Harry would pass and told him so.

Remus steered him into the Apothecary’s, picking up a general assortment of potion ingredients for Professor Gudgeon’s class, along with his very own pewter cauldron standard size two. They bought quills and parchment and a really interesting bottle of color changing ink that struck Harry’s fancy.

Laden down with his packages, Harry and Remus wandered through the twisting streets of Diagon Alley. Harry stopped in front of the Magical Menagerie and went inside as through drawn there. A strange feeling overcame him—he felt as if he absolutely needed to go into this store and look around.

He made his way over to an unremarkable looking wrought iron cage that held a beautiful coal-black bird. The bird turned its noble head, fixing him with a piercing gaze from its iridescent golden eye.

"Hello." Harry whispered.

The bird nodded to him as if to say hello in return.

"You’re a beautiful bird."

Again, the bird nodded.

"Hey, Remus?" Harry called. "May I get this bird?"

Remus approached, looking wary. "That’s a raven, Harry. Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have an owl instead?"

Harry smiled, appraising the raven. "No. This is the one I want." He picked up the cage, carrying it over to the counter. The bird seemed very content with being chosen and made no noise.

The owner looked scared. "Excuse me, sir, but that’s a very excitable bird. Perhaps I could interest you in a more agreeable specimen?"

Harry frowned. "It looks perfectly fine to me. I want this one."

The man shrugged. "Whatever you wish. That’ll be fifteen Galleons."

Harry paid the man, stroking his new pet through the bars with his fingertip.

As they reemerged into the bright sunlight, Remus asked Harry what he was going to name the raven.

He thought for a moment, looking fixedly at the bird. "Poe." He said after a moment.

"Poe?" Remus questioned.

"Yes, Poe. You know, the writer? Wrote The Raven?"

"Sorry, Harry? I’m not too caught up with my Muggle literature."

"Oh, well. Edgar Allen Poe was an American writer. He wrote this poem called The Raven, one of my favorites really."

"Oh. Good choice, Harry."

They walked a bit in silence before Remus spoke again. "I’m going to drop you off at The Leaky Cauldron. Get two rooms for us, okay? I’m going to apparate back to Hogwarts and get your trunk so you’ll be ready to catch the train tomorrow, okay?"

Harry shrugged. "Sounds fine."

They parted at the entrance to the pub. "I’ll see you in a bit, Harry. Just go and talk to Tom, he’s a good friend."

"Sure. See you soon."

Remus blinked away and Harry entered the dimly lit tavern. People glanced up at him as he walked by, but made no effort to stop him. For this, Harry was glad. He made his way over to the bar, plopping down on one of the plushy stools.

"What can I get for you sir?" The wizened barkeep asked him.

"Um, I’m to reserve two rooms, one for me and one for Professor Lupin."

The man smiled a toothy grin. "Oh! You’re a friend of Remus’s, are you?"

"Um, yes. I’m actually starting at Hogwarts tomorrow, so the rooms will just be for tonight until I catch the train."

"Certainly, Mr.—er—your name was?"

"Oh. My name’s Harry. Harry Dursley."

"Certainly, Mr. Dursley. That’s quite an interesting accent you’ve got there. Where are you from?" He asked as he led Harry up a thin staircase.

"I was actually born in Wales, I think. But I lived in Surrey for a bit before my uncle got a new job and we moved to a small island off the coast of New Zealand."

"So you’re a Kiwi, are you? T’was a shame how poorly the Kiwis did in the last World Cup, but then again, England was no great contender, either. The Irish, now there’s a strong team!"

"World Cup?" Harry asked, confused.

"Oh, yes! The Quidditch World Cup! Was held right here in England, you know. You play any Quidditch, Mr. Dursley. You look like you’d be pretty good on a broom."

"I actually just got a broom a couple of weeks ago. I’ve never played really, but Professor McGonagall and Professor Lupin said I’d be a pretty good seeker, so maybe I’ll try out once school starts."

"Seeker, eh? That’s a tough position to play, but that’s where you get the most glory. I wish you luck, Mr. Dursley. I was a chaser myself when I was at Hogwarts."

"Really? What house?"

"Hufflepuff, class of ’56."

"Is Hufflepuff a good house to be in? I know my father was a Gryffindor and my mother was a Ravenclaw, but I really don’t know what house I’ll be in."

"That’s the house Voldemort was in, wasn’t it?"

Tom paled. "Don’t say the name, please. Scares the bejesus out of me!"

Harry blushed. "Sorry. I forgot."

"You forgot?"

"I only found out about all this magic stuff a couple of weeks ago! I never even knew I was magic, ‘til then!"

"Well, you’ll learn fast what you should and shouldn’t do here, and one thing you definitely shouldn’t do is say His name! The only one who could say His name without flinching was Albus Dumbledore himself, God rest his soul!"

"Pardon me for asking, but I really don’t understand why you shouldn’t say His name. He’s gone, isn’t He?"

"Yes, but there’s always a chance something went wrong. We were lucky when little Harry Potter took care of him the first time, and we were lucky when Dumbledore, bless him, got rid of him the second time. You never know what could happen, and I don’t like to chance it!"

"I see." Harry was quiet.

"Well, Mr. Dursley, it was good talking to you. Here’s your room, Professor Lupin’s is the one adjoining it. I’ll tell him to go on up when he returns. Oh—and don’t be afraid to come down for a butterbeer later, okay? On the house!"

"Thanks, Tom!"

"Not a problem. You’re a good kid. Remind me an awful lot of someone I knew a long time ago."

Harry smiled and waved as Tom disappeared down the stairs in the direction they had just come from.

He fit the key in the lock and pushed the door open, revealing a cozy little room, fitted with an oaken bed that stood on a handmade rag rug.

He threw his books and robes down on the bed, setting Poe’s cage on the nearby dresser. "If I let you out, will you promise not to fly away?"

Poe blinked once; looking very affronted that Harry would even suggest such a thing.

Harry pulled the cage open, letting Poe flutter over to his outstretched arm and settle there, looking quite contented. He made his way over to the little desk, pulling out a roll of his new parchment and a quill and began to write.

 

Dear Uncle Vernon (and Aunt Petunia, if she cares),

Hello! It’s me, Harry! (If you didn’t already know, for who else would send you a letter by raven? By the way, her name is Poe and she’s quite obedient.) How are things at the plantation going? It’s almost harvest time, I know, and I miss being there, getting up at the crack of dawn to go work the fields. I might have complained a lot, but you know I really loved it.

Hogwarts is very interesting. I’m learning a lot here and it’s really incredible the things I can do now. Of course, I actually miss going to regular classes back home, but you’d be surprised at how similar some of the courses are. Potions bears a striking resemblance to Chemistry and the History of Magic classes, save a few goblins, are the same as my World History back at St. Gabriel’s. Magical and Muggle history really do parallel each other; it’s quite fascinating to make the connections between the various historical events. For example, did you know that there was this dark wizard named Grindelwald wreaking havoc at the same time when Hitler was causing World War II? I wouldn’t be surprised if they were working together.

Enough about my classes, though, I got a broom—the best one on the market. It’s called the Firebolt and it is simply amazing to fly it. When I come home next, I’ll be sure to bring it. You’ll have to try it.

Professor Lupin and I are getting along well, and the Headmistress is nice, too. The only problem is that everywhere I go, I was getting hounded by people who new my name and recognized my scar. I’m using the name "Harry Dursley" and hiding my scar so no one can recognize me. I want to spend this year as normally as possible, particularly in a castle with rotating staircases and an amazingly annoying poltergeist named Peeves.

If you could, by return post, send me some of my books that I left behind, I’d really appreciate it. There’s no fiction section here, and I’m finding myself lost without a book to dive into—you know my favorites.

Please tell Danny I said hello and give Mrs. Chambers a hug for me. I hope they’re doing all right without me. Keep me posted on St. Gabe’s basketball team and everything. I’ll be sure to write again as soon as I can.

Love,

Harry

 

Writing the address on the front, Harry rolled up his letter and attached it firmly to Poe’s leg. She nipped Harry’s finger once before sailing out the window, becoming nothing more than a black speck against the crystal blue sky.

Just then, there was a knock on the door. Remus stuck his head around, pushing Harry’s trunk into the room. "You had better pack your supplies so we can leave early tomorrow." He said, "But first, how about coming downstairs for some lunch?"

Harry agreed and the two settled down for a delightful meal in front of the briskly burning hearth.

They spent the evening conversing with Tom about random things, once Remus and Tom getting in a heated debate over which team was better, The Pride of Portree or Puddlemere United.

Harry laughed as he sat back and listened, content to lean everything he could about wizarding culture from this exchange.

Late at night, when the last embers of the fire were dying out, Harry and Remus made there way back upstairs and went their separate ways to bed.

Harry lay awake, anxiously awaiting the coming dawn and the beginning of his new life as a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

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