Chapter Text
"Is Harry Potter here?" Were the first words heard when Ben Parker opened his front door, the morning of July 24. Instead of answering the man immediately, Ben looked him up and down for a moment, contemplating what this man wanted with his older son.
"What's it to you if he is?"
The man released a long sigh before shoving his way through the door, pushing a startled Ben as he did.
"May! Hide with the kids!" The shouts from Ben spurred May, who was in the kitchen, into action as she quickly rushed up the stairs and into Peter and Harry’s room where she locked the door.
"May?" Peter sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes as he did. Harry on the other hand, merely looked down to a wide-eyed May from where he was sat up on his top bunk.
"Harry get down here, we're gonna climb through the window," May said thinking fast. As Harry's sock covered feet hit the ground and a half-asleep Peter was being quickly pulled out from under his blankets, the three heard a shout from Ben downstairs. They all stared at the door for a second as they heard footsteps climbing the stairs. At that, Harry climbed onto the bed that Peter had just vacated, and he began to try to yank open the window, May joining him once Peter was on steady feet.
A 'click' noise drew three pairs of eyes to the turning doorknob, the door itself being slowly pushed open. May looked down to her two boys, Peter stared at May with a confused and scared look on his face, and Harry stared at the opening door, standing up to put himself in front of Peter and May. As the door finally opened, Harry pulled out his pocketknife and held it up, pointing it at the man in front of him.
"Well, this has been far too much of an endeavor," a drawn-out British accent cut through the tense silence in the room.
"Listen here you mother fucker, get the fuck out or I'm gonna hurt yeah," Harry spoke in a steady confident voice, his body tense as he felt May pull Peter behind her as she tried to pull him behind her as well.
"Language brat, that kind of attitude is not tolerated at Hogwarts," the black-haired, hook-nosed man spoke in that same drawn-out voice.
"The fuck is Hagwats, is it a hospital," Harry questioned, quickly turning to May with a look of accusation in his eyes, as he put his back to the wall to keep the three people in the room in his eyesight. Before May could answer, Ben came running up the stairs and into the room, pushing the dower man to the side as he rushed toward his wife and kids. Ben himself stood with his back toward Harry, putting himself between the boy and the intruder, confusing the still knife wielding eleven-year-old.
"Get out of our house!" Ben shouted toward the man, who simply waved a stick in the air, silencing Ben shouting. Before anyone else could say anything, the man twirled his wand again, and the family of four was raised from the floor and hovered out the door and down the stairs, Ben, May, and Peter being deposited on the couch and Harry being placed onto one of the armchairs.
"Now then," the man said as he himself sat onto the opposite armchair as Harry was in, a coffee table separating the two. The man waved the wooden stick again, and suddenly the family could move again, though three of the four stayed planted, while the fourth jumped to his feet and waved his knife around again.
"Put that away child," the man spoke with a wave in the air, and a mutter of words, the knife flying through the air, heading toward the open hand of the black-haired man. The knife never reached his hand though, as once it was halfway toward him, it shot back quickly to Harry’s own open hand as he glared at the man.
"Don't take my stuff," a feral like voice spoke into the room as the man gained a look of surprise for barely a second before he once again schooled his features.
"Well, well, well, aren't we a bit overconfident."
"Don't. Take. My. Stuff." Harry spoke again as he punctuated each of his words.
"Right," the man said slowly, sliding his eyes to the shocked and scared faces of those on the couch. "Your Hogwarts letter," the man said, pulling an envelope from the inside of his suit jacket. Instead of reaching for it, Harry simply glared at the man, the letter shooting out of his fingers and into Harry's waiting hands.
Mr. H. Potter-Parker
Top bunk of the smallest bedroom
20 Ingram Street
Forest Hills, Queens
New York City, New York
"Why do you know where I sleep?" Was the first question out of Harry’s mouth as he read the address on the envelope written in green ink. "You been watchin' me?"
“No Mr. Potter, I have no want to look at you for any longer than I must,” the man said to the still tense Harry.
“Potter-Parker.”
“Pardon me?” the man questioned, annoyance laced in his words, causing an upturn to the right side of Harry’s mouth.
“My name. It’s Harry Potter-Parker. Even says it on this letter,” Harry clarified, glancing back to his family on the couch only momentarily while he spoke. “You gonna let them move?”
“I have, it appears that they may be experiencing shock,” the man says.
“Oh, makes sense. What’s your name anyways?”
“My name is Professor Snape.”
“Your first name is Professor?” Harry questions with a smirk on his face, drawing an annoyed sigh from the now named man.
“No child, but that is the name that you shall call me when at Hogwarts.”
“What’s this Hagwats anyway?” Harry once again questions, though now not going on the defense toward his family about it. He decided to put a pin in finding out the creepy man’s first name.
“Hogwarts,” Snape said clearly, growing more and more annoyed with the boy in front of him the longer that he was sat in the small home in Queens. “It is the school that I am certain you have heard a lot about before you decided to run off to this horrid country.”
This statement did more to confuse Harry than to clarify anything. How was he supposed to have known this? Why was he certain of it? Why did he think Harry ran off?
“Uh, Prof., first off, I still do not know what Hogwarts is. Secondly, I did not run off anywhere. And thirdly, why are you here if you think it’s a horrid country?”
“You think I would believe that Petunia would never mention Hogwarts?”
“SHE went there?!” Harry said in a shocked tone, tensing slightly in his seat, unnoticed by the newcomer, but drawing concerned faces from his family. Harry’s statement seemed to amuse Snape though, as he snorted before speaking.
“She wishes she did.”
“Well, if she didn’t, why would she have talked about it.”
“It is kind of a hard thing to leave out when discussing your parents.”
“What the fuck do my parents have to do with this?” Harry said defensively, clearly not liking the direction this conversation was quickly turning to.
“Your parents,” Snape said in a drawn-out way, “attended Hogwarts, as that is where they learned magic.”
“Oh,” was Harry’s simple reply.
“Oh indeed,” Snape said, looking down his hooked nose at the boy he had already deemed a delinquent.
“Excuse me,” May finally spoke from her spot on the couch, drawing the eyes of boy wizards to her. “But what exactly just happened here?”
“He’s a wizard May,” Peter said with wonder in his eyes at he stared at his brother, who simply shot him a wink and a grin.
“Thanks Pete, I’ve got that much,” May said to her nephew, sarcasm and shocked laced evenly through her voice. “But I meant,” she turned back to her oldest kid and the stranger that barged into her house, “what is this about a wizard school? Where is it? How much is it? What does he need for it? Are there scholarships for it?”
“It is in Scotland, and his parents paid for it when he was born,” the man informed May and Ben, as they both nodded along. “As for the items that he will need, those are listed on the letter in his hand.” At this Harry tore open the envelope, reading the letter out loud so his family could also know what it said.
“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Harry Potter-Parker,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours Sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress.”
Once Harry finished reading the first page, he began on the second one.
“UNIFORM First-year students will require: Three sets of plain work robes (black), One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear, One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar), and One winter cloak (black with silver fastenings). Please note that all pupil’s clothes should carry name tags.
COURSE BOOKS All students have a copy of each of the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk, A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot, Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling, A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore, Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander, and The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble.
OTHER EQUIPMENT 1 wand, 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2), 1 set of glass or crystal phials, 1 telescope, and 1 set of brass scales.
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat Or a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK.”
“This still feels like you’re pulling my leg, but I guess I’ll bite,” Harry said, a disinterested tone in his voice, even if his hands were moving back and forth across the folds of the paper. ‘Anxiety hands’ Peter thought as he watched his brother do this.
“Of course,” Snape said in a voice that dripped loathing for the boy in front of him.
“Where would I buy this stuff?” At this question, the professor pulled out a hairbrush from his pocket and held it out to Harry, who took it with hesitant hands. “This is a hairbrush.” Harry stated.
“Nice to see your observation skills are intact,” Snape said with a role of his eyes. “That is an international portkey, and, on the 15th, it will transport you and one of your guardians,” a nod in May and Ben’s direction, “to Diagon Alley, which is where I will meet you and escort you where you need to go.”
“Cool, what time?” a sigh fell out of the dower man’s mouth once again.
“I will be there at 1o’clock, which is when you will both need to be holding on to the portkey.”
“Sounds wicked,” Harry said in a deadpan voice. “See ya then Prof.”