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Common Intro to all One-shots (Skip to the scenario if you already read the intro and don't need the context)
JUNE 1989 - Harry is 8 years old
Harry Potter found himself running for his life again. His cousin Dudley and his gang of bullies had started another round of Harry Hunting almost as soon as the school day had ended. Harry was usually quite good at avoiding capture, but Dudley's bumbling horde had unwittingly caught him in a daydream about enjoying the pleasant early June weather with a quiet picnic by a lake. Until that point it had been a rare good day at school without trouble from either Dudley's gang or teachers.
He even felt good about the exams he had taken that day for History and Science, two of his favorite subjects, though he wasn't allowed to do too well lest he face punishment for exceeding Dudley's grades. Harry shook off his reverie so that he could focus on escaping. Unfortunately, in his lack of focus, Harry had run himself into a dead end behind the school kitchens. He was silently cursing his situation of being an 8-year old who constantly put up with bullying and abuse everywhere he turned.
Clearing his mind again, Harry stood still to listen for Dudley's approach while quietly looking around for escape options, but soon realized his only hope to avoid the Hunt today would be to hide behind the nearby big trash cans. Dudley and crew were just about to turn the corner, so Harry closed his eyes thinking only of getting to a place where Dudley's gang could not find him and made a leap to get to his hiding spot.
And that's when Harry felt the strangest and most uncomfortable sensation in the world. His body felt like it was being compressed from all sides then being pushed through a tube.
Scenario 4 - Tom (the) Barman
Harry yelped and he landed on his bum with a thud. A few moments ago he had felt like Augustus Gloop being sucked through a tube, but now he was disoriented in a completely new way. Harry had no idea where he was nor did he understand how he got there.
On instinct, he began taking in his environment and made a 360 degree turn in the process. "Robes, owls, cauldrons, and…Qui-Quidditch? What an odd place. Uncle Vernon would think I'm lying if I told him," Harry muttered the last part with a shudder.
He spotted a signpost containing 3 signs pointing in different directions. The lowermost sign caught his eye because it was vandalized in red with the odd word "Mudblood". The important part to Harry was that it said "Exit to Muggle London" and pointed him in a specific direction. The shop names here he didn't understand, but he knew what London was and decided it was best to stick with something familiar.
Harry was intrigued by all the shops he passed, but didn't dare succumb to his curiosity since he was probably already in deep trouble with his relatives. He came to a brick wall that seemed to be a dead end except for a window and a sign that read "Leaky Cauldron".
"Huh, another cauldron shop? Where is the exit to London?" he said in a panicked annoyance. He felt along the brick wall for a doorknob to no avail and then tried to look in through the window, but it was too dirty to see through.
Harry was startled out of his search when the wall suddenly began opening as though by magic. He hid to the side to protect himself from whatever came out. He was shocked to see an elegant raven-haired woman walk through with two girls around his age - one blonde and the other raven-haired. There was definitely a family resemblance between the three females, leading him to assume the girls were the woman's daughters. None of the three females noticed Harry due to the mother chastising the blonde.
"Astoria, I know that you are excited to visit your father's shop, but you must calm down. Can't you be more like Daphne and behave in public?" She gave the blonde girl a pointed look to keep her from replying and continued, 'And not a word to anyone that we were in Muggle London, young lady. That goes for you as well, Daphne."
"Yes, mother," both girls replied in unison. The three continued walking with the mother speaking to the daughters.
Harry was flummoxed by what he had just witnessed, but he didn't have time to contemplate due to the entrance starting to close once the women were out of earshot. He made his move and slipped through the opening to continue down the path the sign had set him on towards London. What he encountered next caught him by surprise. The secret entrance had brought him to a pub! There were people scattered throughout the pub eating and drinking, none of whom had any interest in the random scrawny 8 year-old boy who had just wandered into a pub on his own.
Harry's stomach rumbled at the smell of the food, but he couldn't dawdle since he needed to get back to Little Whinging. The boy cautiously approached the bar where he was instantly noticed by the bald man behind the bar, whose job it was to notice people near the bar. The man nodded at Harry inviting him to speak.
Harry instinctively didn't trust many adults, but he had no recourse here. He nervously stammered out, "Excuse me, sir. I'm lost and was hoping that you could help me get home."
The man eyed him for a few seconds causing Harry to meekly look down at his shoes. The man smiled and said in a gravelly, yet oddly welcoming voice, "Sure, lad. The name's Tom Barman." Tom then held out his hand to Harry.
Harry was so nervous that he missed the irony of the bar man's surname being Barman. Harry stared at Tom's hand in bewilderment and then extended his own hand because he was embarrassed it took him so long to do so. "My name is Ha-"
Tom cut off Harry before he could say his name. "I know who you are, son. No need to say your name. I'll tell you why not in a Mo. What brings a wee one like yourself to the Leaky Cauldron on your lonesome?"
"You know me?" Harry squeaked in astonishment.
"'Course I recognize you. You're the spitting image of your father." Tom looked Harry over and realized the boy was struggling to process his comments, so he respectfully and somberly added, "He was a good man, rest his soul."
The boy started breathing heavily and it took Harry a few seconds to recover from the revelation before being able to put together a coherent reply. "You - you knew my father?"
The Leaky Cauldron's proprietor chuckled. "Aye. He was a regular. Celebrated many of life's milestones here, he did. 'Course, the Leaky Cauldron is neutral territory and was the only place one could at the time." Tom had a wistful expression on his face.
"C-could you tell me more, Mr. Barman?" Harry asked in an almost pleading tone.
The question brought Tom back to the present. "I'll do you one better, lad, and share some stories over a hearty meal. You look like you've missed a few. Head over to that quiet looking table in the corner and I'll meet you there with something to eat."
Harry anxiously walked over to the indicated booth. He briefly glanced around at his secluded surroundings before hesitantly sitting down in the dark varnished booth. The 8 year-old boy sat in silence for a few minutes wondering what he had gotten himself into. Though Mr. Barman seemed nice enough, Harry was having second thoughts about trusting an adult he had just met. He wrestled with leaving, but ultimately decided to stay since they were in public and he might find out something about his father.
Tom Barman cleared his throat, startling Harry and pulling him out of his dark thoughts. He set the tray of food he was carrying on the table and sat down opposite Harry in the booth. Tom then touched the privacy runes in the booth with his wand, causing a blue glow to momentarily encase the booth, which was his first display of magic and caused Harry to scrunch his face in confusion. Tom proceeded to place plates of food in front of Harry and didn't notice the puzzled expression on the child's face.
Once everything was ready, Tom looked intently into Harry's green eyes and said, "Before we get going, I want you to know the meal is on the house. I reckon you don't have any money on you due to your age. A free meal and sharing some stories is the least I can do to repay your family's sacrifice, lad. Understood?"
Harry nodded dumbly without making a sound. He didn't understand and knew he was out of his element, but assumed it was better to see what else happened. He definitely didn't know anything about any sacrifice.
Tom smiled and nodded. "Good. Now a butterbeer for me, and for you we have a bowl of pea and ham soup with a roll to start, then you have your classic fish and chips, followed by treacle tart for the sweet tooth every child has. The fish and chips have a warming charm to keep from getting cold, so don't rush through that soup. It's a lot of food, but you're skin and bones and could use a hearty meal. I brought you water and pumpkin juice to wash it all down. Tuck in."
Harry hesitated. He didn't know where to start and eventually decided to begin with a question instead of the soup. Gathering all his courage, Harry said, "Mr. Barman, what was that stick in your hand?"
Tom was puzzled at the question and held up his wand. "This stick? This is my wand and I used it to activate the privacy runes in the booth to keep folks from overhearing us, Mr. Potter. All witches and wizards of a certain age have wands. Surely you know that, right?"
Harry stared at the wind, then looked at Tom, and shook his head. "No, sorry, sir, I don't know. Is that bad?"
The older man tried to hide his incredulity at the travesty that had befallen this child. He shouldn't be the person teaching the Boy-Who-Lived about magic. It was certainly an indictment against Magical Britain. "Merlin, that's a shame, lad. Seems I'll be sharing more than just pub stories about your people."
Tom looked around in the bar in dissatisfaction and sighed deeply. He then sipped from his butterbeer before muttering to himself, "Where to begin, where to begin…" Not knowing about wands was a clear indicator that the child in front of him didn't know anything at all about magic. Tom took another sip of butterbeer and drolly said as he pointed his butterbeer at Harry, "You know, folks would be rioting if they found out about our little chat."
"They would?" Confusion oozing out of his being. "I don't know about that," Harry said somewhat ruefully.
Tom laughed heartily. "Aye, they would. You best begin eating, lad. This is going to take a bit of explaining."
Harry shrugged his shoulders and began eating his soup without uttering a word. Why do people care about me.
The older man exhaled loudly. "Right. This'll be a shocker. Magic is real, Harry. I'm a wizard and I use this here wand to do magic." He waved his wand to emphasize that it was real, then continued, "Blokes are wizards and the lasses are witches. We get wands when we turn 11 years-old and go off to Hogwarts, a school to learn how to do magic. Follow me?"
Harry stopped eating and nodded. On the outside he was body still, but on the inside his mind raced a mile a minute. Was it a school to learn card tricks and how to pull rabbits from hats.
"Now, not everyone can do magic. Most people with magic have at least one parent who is magical, but there's also some folks whose parents aren't magical that are born with magic, too. We call them Muggleborns. People without magic are called Muggles and we have laws requiring us to stay hidden from those folks. That excludes the immediate family or guardians of the Muggleborn. They can know about magic. Your mum was Muggleborn and the Potters have been magical a long time. Still following?"
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but shut it quickly. His mum was Muggleborn. Did Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon know about magic? He pursed his lips to hold in the agitation that was rising.
Tom scrutinized the warring emotions on Harry's face. "You look like you got something on your mind, lad."
Harry shifted his gaze while pursing his lips and then let out an exasperated sigh. "Um, well, it's my aunt and uncle. I live with them and my cousin Dudley. Aunt Petunia is my mum's sister. Do you think they know about magic?"
This new information annoyed Tom, but he tried to hide annoyance as much as possible. "She likely does, seeing she grew up with your mother. I'd ask her if I were you. I reckon a wizard like you has probably already done accidental magic, like summoning toys or changing the color of an object. They're bound to have noticed and known what was happening."
Harry dropped his spoon at these words and stared at Tom in shock. So many incidents in his life were suddenly imbued with new meaning. Turning the teacher's hair blue when he got mad was magic…his magic. Appearing in this strange place was probably his magic, too. His aunt and uncle already knew about magic and were vocal about hating it as freakish. They probably knew much more about his parents as well, which made him furious that they had been lying to him for years and treating him terribly for even asking.
Tom noticed the vibrating plates and red-faced child and knew he had to distract Harry before the accidental magic drew attention. "Harry, lad, are you alright? You went quiet on me, your face is red, and you're grinding your teeth. Not to mention the dishes were clattering."
Harry came back to the moment and seemed surprised at Tom's words. "It's fine, it's fine. I was just thinking. My cousin and his friends were chasing me after school and I disappeared from there and appeared here in front of the shops. Was that accidental magic, too? Are there any other ways to get back here?"
The barman rubbed his chin in contemplation and replied pensively, "Never heard of a child accidentally apparating, but with you being you and magic being mysterious, I reckon it's possible."
"Arpatating..apparating…" Harry tried to repeat back.
Tom nodded his head confirming the pronunciation, "Yes, apparating. The Muggles call it teleporting on some of their television programs, or so some folks tell me. As for getting back, this here fine establishment is called the Leaky Cauldron and has been in my family for centuries. The Barman's proudly guard this entry point between the Muggle world and the magical world." Tom wore a proud expression as he shared about his family's long-standing role.
He continued, "Everything on the other side of the back wall is magical and on everything out the front door is Muggle. That section of magical shops you saw is called Diagon Alley. There's a few ways to get here, but the easiest for you since you live with Muggles will be to take the Knight Bus to our front door. It's fast, too. I'll show you how before you leave."
The idea of being able to return to find out more about his parents and magic made Harry giddy. "Brilliant! I'd really like that, Mr. Barman."
The barman was filled with happiness at being able to elicit the excited reply from Harry. "I'm glad to help, lad. Now it's getting late. Start eating your fish and chips and I'll tell you one story about your family before I send you on your way."
Harry scrunched his face. "Could you tell me how they died? How they really died. My aunt and uncle told me it was a car accident, but you said something about a sacrifice."
The happy feeling quickly dissipated and Tom scoffed in disbelief at being asked the question by Harry Potter of all people. While rubbing his chin, he said, "Sweet mother of magic, lad, that's a serious story. However, it might be best considering nobody's told you yet. I'll need something stronger than butterbeer after you go home, that's for certain." He chuckled at the unexpected situation he found himself in.
Harry shrank into himself in embarrassment and didn't look up from his fish and chips. "Sorry, sir."
Tom frowned and waved his hand. "Nonsense. You deserve to know. It's your life and your family, after all. Don't feel sorry about this, you hear?"
"Thanks, Mr. Barman. Nobody's ever told me…," Harry trailed off.
The Leaky Cauldron proprietor furrowed his brow. We failed this boy so many times. "Think nothing of it. I'll keep it short this time. The gist is that Britain had a wizarding civil war that ended when the powerful leader of the insurrectionists - he was bloody frightening - attacked your parents at your home. Both your parents were killed, but so was this dark wizard, who was slowly taking over the country. Nobody knows why he attacked, but whatever happened we were suddenly saved and pubs like this were full of revelry."
Tom stopped to see how Harry was taking the news. The boy had gone pale with mouth agape and sorrow evident in his green eyes. The barman momentarily thought about stopping, yet thought it best to finish the tale. The next part was important.
He pointed at Harry and said solemnly, "Harry, you were the only one to survive, and even withstood the Killing Curse. Not a soul knows how or why. Some say that's why you have that there scar on your forehead, lad. You're the only person to ever survive that curse and you took one from a really powerful dark wizard and that's why they call you the Boy-Who-Lived. Nobody's seen you since you were a year old and now everyone tells fantastical stories about the Boy-Who-Lived. You're the famous Harry Potter, but also a young boy. People only care about the hero, but not the boy. Now imagine my shock at you turning up here lost and by yourself. That's why I didn't want to draw attention to you when you arrived, lad."
Harry was stunned. He sat in silence trying to understand everything Mr. Barman had told him.
The boy stared at his untouched treacle tart and began rubbing his lightning shaped scar. He was famous, he survived a murder attempt, and his parents were heroes instead of drunks. So many years of misery caused by one man. And then there were the Dursleys. They hid so much from him, but at least now he knew the truth and that was better than blaming himself for his lot in life.
A tear splashing on the table broke Harry from his thoughts. "Erm, thanks for telling me about my parents and…and magic, Mr. Barman." He then failed to suppress a sniffle and looked away in embarrassment.
The old barman was impressed at how well the 8 year-old boy was holding up and felt sorry for him. "You've been through a lot, Harry. I'll tell you a more cheerful story next time you visit. Let me wrap your treacle tart before you leave. The Leaky has the best treacle tart in the Alley and we don't want to deprive you. Sit tight."
Tom got up and took the treacle tart with him to wrap up. He could have done it at the table with magic, but he had other reasons to get up and those could be found in his office. He searched a box he retrieved from a closet in his office and rummaged through the box until he found an old wand that he put in his pocket. Then he pulled out an old pouch and put in a few galleons from his desk.
He locked his office and walked back to Harry's booth. "Here's your treacle tart, Harry. I've got a surprise for you," Tom said with a smile as he held the wand up.
Harry looked on in astonishment. "Is that for me?"
Tom handed Harry the wand he retrieved from his office. "Indeed. To hail the Knight Bus, just stick this wand in the air and think about wanting a ride. Sometimes it comes in an instant and other times it takes a few minutes. Don't try to use that wand for anything else - you won't like the results. Understood?"
At this point Harry was excitedly bouncing in his seat like any common 8 year-old. "Yes, sir. I'll hide it and won't use it for anything else. The bus doesn't cost anything, does it?"
Tom grinned at the question. "It does, but I've got you covered, lad. Here's a pouch of wizard money with 10 galleons. Each trip on the Knight Bus costs 11 sickles. Each galleon is worth 17 sickles. That pouch should get you about 7 roundtrips from your house to here and will get you home today. Let's head outside to hail your ride. Do you have any questions?"
Harry was nervous about taking a long bus ride. He was probably in enough trouble as it was. As they were walking, Harry asked, "How long will it take to get back to my aunt's house?"
"Oh, it's mighty fast, the Knight Bus. Should only take a few minutes to get you anywhere in Britain, so hang on tight and do it quick. I mean it." Tom chuckled thinking about the daft Knight Bus crew.
They didn't say anything else to each other until they got outside. Tom was about to show Harry how to hail the Knight Bus, but Harry spoke up first with a whopper of a question.
"Mr. Barman, one more question. What were my parents' names?" Harry said with pain in his voice.
Tom's reply got caught in his throat. Taking a moment to recover, he finally said, "Blimey, your questions don't get easier, lad. Their names were James and Lily Potter. I'm told they were two of the finests wizards and witches of their generation."
Harry closed his eyes and slowly whispered, "James and Lily. James and Lily." He then looked at Tom with watery green eyes and said in a trembling voice, "James and Lily. My middle name is James, after my dad."
"Aye, lad. Indeed." Tom didn't dare say anything else and instead changed the topic. "Well, we best be getting you on your way. Just stick the wand in the air and think about a bus fetching you."
With that said, Harry took the instructions and lifted the wand. Nothing happened right away, but then the Knight Bus materialized suddenly 30 seconds later.
"Oi, did someone call the Knight Bus?" yelled a middle-aged man with graying hair. "Oh, it's just you, Tom. I see you got a young one in tow."
"Aye, this is your passenger, Sean. Easy on the acceleration today," Tom replied to the Knight Bus conductor. Then he turned to Harry and said, "That's Sean Shunpike, he's been the bus conductor for decades. Lost his marbles, so remember to hang on tight and do it in a hurry."
Harry nodded and replied earnestly, "I will, sir." He didn't want to disappoint this adult - this wizard - who had been so kind to him.
Tom crouched down to Harry's eye level. "Come back any time to see me if you're interested in a story and meal. I'll be waiting for you," he said with a smile.
Harry flashed a bright smile in return and his eyes shone with happiness. "Brilliant!" He hopped onto the Knight Bus and gave the conductor a galleon.
Before getting his change back, Harry abruptly turned and enthusiastically waved and yelled, "Goodbye, Mr. Barman! Thanks for everything! See you soon!"
Tom smiled and waved back. "Think nothing of it, lad. Stay safe and come back any time."
Harry turned, the bus doors closed, and the Knight Bus whipped down Charing Crossing Road.
"Most interesting day in a while," Tom said to himself. "And I won't tell a soul." A brief, faint glow then surrounded the barman. "Barman's oath."