Work Text:
Mid-June of 1991 found the halls of Hogwarts empty of the hundreds of students recently sent home for summer break. The only occupants, other than the many ghosts, were the Headmaster and House Heads, currently having their last meeting before they enjoyed their own holiday break.
Having finished going over everything pertaining to the end of year duties, there was only one thing left on the agenda: First Year Muggle-born Initial Visits. At this point, Severus Snape, Head of Slytherin House stood from his armchair in the Headmaster’s office, gave a quick nod to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and promptly left the meeting. For everyone knew there was little call for anyone coming to Hogwarts from a muggle home to be sorted into Slytherin House.
“Minerva, my dear, how many letters are left to send out?” Albus queried.
“There are three, Justin Finch-Fletchley, a muggleborn, Neville Longbottom, and Harry Potter.” The Head of Gryffindor stated. “I have them here, Filius has agreed to inform the Finch-Fletchley’s. Here’s his letter Filius.” She handed the diminutive Head of Ravenclaw an envelope of heavy parchment. “The other two are due to be sent out next month.”
As she was placing the remaining letters atop her meeting notes, the address on one caught her attention. “Albus,” she called sternly “What is the meaning of this? I told you they were horrid muggles, did I not?” She tossed the letter on the desk Albus was seated behind.
Looking at the unabashed fury within her gaze, Albus wondered what about the letter’s front had infuriated the usually unflappable woman. He knew it to be the one for Harry Potter, because of the remaining letters; he was the only one left who resided with muggles. With no small amount of trepidation, wondering idly if the Dursley’s had him sleeping in a cupboard or some sort, he lifted the envelope.
If one were to observe the normally merry Headmaster closely, they’d notice how his finger’s tightened on the parchment, how the twinkle in his eyes dimmed, as he read the address:
Mr. Harry Potter
Standard Bedroom,
Wool’s Orphanage, London
************************************
Albus Dumbledore felt a sense of great foreboding as he passed through a set of iron gates, into the bare courtyard and up the few steps to a rather grim, square building surrounded by high railings. He hesitated only a moment, recalling with crystal clarity the last time he stood in front of this door, before knocking. The door was opened not long after by a surly looking teenaged boy, “Sumtin’ I can help you with… um, sir?” he asked staring disbelievingly at the garish red suit Dumbledore wore.
“Good morning. I have and appointment with a Mr. Abrams.”
“Come on in,” the boy held an arm out towards the black and white tiled hallway behind him. “I’ll go and fetch him then.” He said once Albus stepped inside and he closed the door.
Within moments a harassed looking middle-aged man came forward holding out his hand and shaking his head slightly almost in disbelief. “You must be Mr. Dumbledore, I’m Peter Abrams. I have to say, when I first received your letter, I thought it to be a hoax. Great Aunt Annie used to tell me stories when I was coming up, one of which about a strange dressed man coming to spirit away one of her troubled charges to a funny type school.”
Albus shook the younger gentleman’s hand and smiled a bit, “Ah, well, yes, I have been here once before, but I’m here today regarding Mr. Potter.”
“Let’s step into the office for a mo’, he’s in the middle of morning chores right now and it’ll give us a chance to discuss what this is all about.” He led Albus into a vaguely familiar room with old and mismatched furniture, taking a seat behind an old worn desk and pointing to an armchair set in front of it for him to take a seat.
“I’d like to know more about this school, Hogwarts you say? I’ve never heard of it.” Mr. Abrams prodded.
“It’s a school for the gifted, he’s been down since birth. To be honest, I didn’t expect to find him here, I was under the impression he lived with his Aunt and Uncle in Surrey.”
“Harry came to us when he was 4. His Aunt brought him, told us she wouldn’t have any of that funny business in her home, said we could have him and promptly left.” He hesitated for a moment, then, with a look of determination went on, “Harry is a bit odd, to tell you the truth, quiet, doesn’t get on with the other children much, they say weird things happen around him, call him freakish, they do.”
What little color that’d been on Dumbledore’s face fled as déjà vu struck strong. Behind the desk and old grandfather clock struck eleven, “Ah, chores should be finished, I’ll introduce you to him now.”
They left the office and went up a flight of stone stairs. Harry’s room was the first door right off the second landing, Dumbledore shuddered. Mr. Abrams knocked once and poked his head inside, “There’s someone here to speak with you about this upcoming school year, Harry.”
He waved Albus inside and said, “Find me in the office before you leave Mr. Dumbledore,” and turned back towards the stairs. Looking about, he noticed the room was exactly the same, small and bare with only a wardrobe, a chair and an iron bedstead. Even the boy sitting upon the gray blankets, book in hand was dark-haired and pale. If not for the be speckled green eyes and the curious shaped scar adorning his forehead, Albus would think he’d stepped back in time.
Stepping into the room and shutting the door he took a seat in the chair and offered his hand in greeting, “My name is Professor Dumbledore, I’m the Headmaster of Hogwarts School. I’m here to offer you a place there.”
“I’m Harry,” the young man said, a skeptical look on his face as he shook the proffered hand. “I’ve never heard of a school named Hogwarts before.”
“It’s a very special school, for very special children. Do you believe in magic Harry?”
“Magic?” he repeated in a wary whisper.
“That’s right,” Said Dumbledore.
“It’s… It’s magic, what I can do?” the boy asked quietly.
Though no screaming of doctors and asylums, the apprehension Dumbledore felt grew even more as he asked what it was Harry could do.
“All sorts,” breathed Harry. An excited flush rising up his neck and cheeks. “I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who tease me.” His eyes wide with wonder he claimed to always know that he was different, special he said.
“You can do magic then?” he asked excitedly. “Show me!”
“If you are accepting your place at Hogwarts, then you will address me as ‘Professor’ or ‘Sir’!” said Dumbledore a bit harshly.
Harry looked down, in apparent abashment before nodding faintly and asking in a calmer tone, “Please, Professor, could you show me some magic?”
Dumbledore shakily drew his wand from and inside pocket of his suit jacket and, almost fearfully, gave it a flick in the direction of the wardrobe, eyes wide as it burst into flames and a faint rattling could be heard from inside. Taking a shallow breath, Albus released the spell and the flames disappeared, the rattling growing louder. “I think there is something trying to get out of your wardrobe.”
Harry shrieked and jumped to open the wardrobe pulling out a cardboard box that was shaking mightily, as if something inside was trying to escape. Without prompting the boy quickly pulled off the lid and, hissing quietly, coaxed a long black and white Common Viper from within.
The apprehension and fear hit Albus so forcefully he stood so quickly from his chair causing it to fall back against the wall, clattering loudly.
“What have you done to Ouros? He’s terrified!” Harry accused, and then went back to his quiet but frantic hissing.
“The spell was harmless, only meant for identifying things that don’t belong.” He explained, “Can you tell me why you had a poisonous viper hidden in your wardrobe?”
“He wouldn’t hurt anyone, not unless I’d ask him to. I found him in the bushes at the park early last summer, he was biting at his tail trying to relieve an itch, so I helped him out and named him Ouroboros. It seemed fitting.” Harry was still glaring at Dumbledore but Albus couldn’t remove his eyes from the ironically named poisonous snake.
Shaking himself out of his stupor, Albus reached within another pocket of his suit and pulled out a thick pad of parchment. “Here is your acceptance letter and list of school supplies. I will send someone from Hogwarts to assist you in acquiring what you’ll need.” He handed the letter over.
“I haven’t got any money.” Harry stated. “The orphanage is barely funded, and I’ve nothing.”
“I believe your parents had set you up with a vault at Gringotts, the wizarding bank, to pay for your schooling. You’ll have no worries there.”
“My parents? They were magic as well then?” He asked while placing the snake upon his shoulders and opening his letter. Flipping to the second page he asked, “Where in the world do you buy cauldrons?”
“Yes, your parents both attended Hogwart’s in their youth. You’ll be able to procure all of your supplies in Diagon Alley; it’s located here in London. I’ll send a professor to accompany you closer to the start of term.” He could have taken him today, however, all he could think of was getting back to his office at Hogwarts and spending a few hours with his Pensieve. Severus had sworn an oath to look after the child after all. Preparing to head down and inform Mr. Abrams of Severus’s visit, Dumbledore stood and, apprehensive of the viper eyeing him from upon the boy’s shoulders, offered his hand.
“Farewell, Harry.”
“Good-Bye, Sir. I shall see you at Hogwarts.”