Chapter Text
JULY 31st, 1991
THUMP THUMP
"Get up, you freak. It's time for you to earn your keep."
Staring up at the dust that was knocked loose and now swirling in the air, Harry Potter wondered if getting up was even worth it. He already knew what the day held and had no desire to see the jeering faces of the Dursleys. His abuse at the hands of the Dursleys had been going on for many years at this point and had become a routine for Harry. Get up, do chores all day, get fed a meager amount, avoid beating, rinse and repeat.
Rolling over to find his glasses using the faint light seeping in through the cracks in the door, Harry pushed the door of the cupboard open. Ducking through the small opening, he made his way into the kitchen, where Petunia was waiting for him with a pan in hand.
"Hurry up, boy. Vernon and Dudley have to get going. We can't afford to have you dawdle around all day."
Keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, Harry took the pan from her hands and began his daily task of preparing breakfast for the Dursleys, which should have been an easy task, considering that only the three of them would be eating. Instead, he was put to work making enough food for a family of six, as Vernon and Dudley ate enough by themselves to feed a small family.
Cooking was one of the earliest chores that the Dursleys had made him do. It had started when he was four years old and finally able to reach the top of the counter, using one of the dining table chairs as a stool. It began with simple things like stirring the sauce or making the occasional tea, but once he was able to do the basics, it quickly escalated to him making all the meals for the family.
At first, like any child, Harry had made mistakes and even burned a couple of things. That had been quickly resolved when Vernon, in one of his moods, had taken the pan and hit him upside the head, leaving his head spinning for a few days. After that day, Harry made sure everything was perfect in the kitchen, even if he couldn't see properly. It was only after a few weeks that the teachers pointed out his strained vision; only then did Petunia get him a pair of ill-fitting glasses. They were by no means perfect, but they were much better than not being able to see at all.
Rolling the sleeves of his equally ill-fitting shirt, Harry set to work around the kitchen, his burn scars visible. Putting the bacon on, Harry turned on the kettle and made some toast. He knew that Dudley would be coming down the stairs at any moment, and if the food wasn't ready by then, he would be in a host of trouble.
Just as Harry finished setting the table, he heard the thumping of Dudley making his way down the stairs.
Back in the kitchen, Harry kept his head down and focused on finishing up the rest of breakfast as Petunia fussed over Dudley's tie.
"Settle down Dudley, we have to make sure you look your best. You have to be better than the other kids."
Vernon, inhaling another of the sausages, looked at Dudley with something that could only be described as pride.
"That's my boy. I'm sure the ladies in the office will adore you."
Harry had given up any semblance of hope that Vernon and Petunia would ever look at him in the same manner, but seeing them fawn over Dudley for simply existing left him wondering if his parents had ever looked at him like that before they died in the car crash. Vernon had repeatedly told him how his parents were drunks and good-for-nothings, but the scant memories that he remembered when the beatings were too hard, made it impossible to believe that. He had no recollection of their faces, but he knew the feeling of happiness couldn't be faked.
"Boy, while junior and I are out today, you'd better make sure the lawn looks spotless. I want the whole house weeded and mowed."
"Yes, Uncle Vernon."
Pulling himself out of nonsensical, possibly even fictional memories, Harry went into cleaning mode for the kitchen. Ever since he had started doing the chores, Petunia rarely did anything around the house. She spent more of her days sitting by the window, looking out at the neighbors and making judgmental comments.
Though the Dursleys' house was moderately sized, it sat upon an expansive lot, meaning that Harry had a lot of ground to cover.
The early morning had provided some relief as he completed the back yard, but by midday, the sun was blazing down on Harry's neck with a vengeance. The sweat was dripping down his back, and the comically sized shirt was now sticking to Harry, making the whole experience a nightmare.
Wiping the sweat out of his eyes, Harry looked up to see the mailman arrive with a stack of envelopes. While most people would have been disgusted to see a child as young as Harry working in the blazing sun, the people of Little Whinging had grown accustomed to it. Over the years, the Dursleys had made everyone think of Harry as nothing but a troublemaker and needing a heavy hand to guide him through life. The mailman was no exception to this, as he handed the mail to the still kneeling Harry and, without a word, made his way to the next house.
Getting up, Harry made sure that he wiped as much dirt off himself as possible before making his way back up towards the house. His arm still hurt from the awkward angle Petunia had bent it in the last time when he had dragged in a little mud.
Thumbing through the mail, wondering if he would be able to sneak in a little something for lunch, he hit a particularly coarse envelope. Pulling it to the front in curiosity, Harry looked down at the first-ever piece of mail addressed to him.
Mr. H. Potter
The Cupboard under the Stairs
4 Privet Drive
Little Whinging
Surrey
'That doesn't make any sense. Who would write to me? Who would even know I live in the cupboard?'
That last thought stopped him in his tracks. The Dursleys had made sure that no one knew where he was living. The one time he had tried to tell a teacher, they had painted him a liar and made sure he went on only water for a week straight. Since then, Harry had learned to keep his mouth shut, and his life personal. Just like he knew he had to keep this letter to himself. Making sure that Aunt Petunia wasn't looking out the window, Harry stuffed the letter into the waistband of his shorts that were held up by a shoelace he had scrounged.
Walking into the house, Harry dropped the rest of the mail on the kitchen counter. He tried to think of an excuse. He needed to read the letter before anyone else found out about it.
"Go wash up, boy. I don't want you tracking dirt through the house."
Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Harry hurriedly made his way upstairs to the bathroom.
Locking the door behind him, Harry took out the slightly crumpled envelope and smoothed it out over the counter. Running his hands over the letter, Harry felt his initial judgment was correct. The paper was coarser and much thicker than normal paper, and flipping it over, Harry noticed it was sealed with melted wax with a big H in the middle. Right above it was a crest with the same H and four animals on each side: a lion, a snake, a raven, and a badger.
With trembling hands, Harry broke the seal and unfurled the letter.
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. Potter,
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 August 15th.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
'Magic? Like the stuff he saw in books? Pulling rabbits out of hats?' were the thoughts swimming through his head.
He had initially assumed it was a prank someone was cruel enough to pull, but he remembered those outbursts where he never really knew what happened. Like the time at the zoo, or the time he had ended up on the school roof. He also realized there wasn't anyone in this world who cared enough about him to go through all this work.
Behind the first page, Harry found a second sheet of paper attached.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils’ clothes should carry name tags.
COURSE BOOKS
All students should 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 Draughts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
Now certain that this was not a prank, Harry wondered where in the world he could even find any of this stuff and how on Earth he was going to pay for it. He often heard Vernon complaining about how expensive everything was, and wondered if his small stash of hidden bills would get him anywhere.
At the bottom, in the same loopy handwriting was an addition:
For students from non-magical families: Enclosed are directions to Diagon Alley, our world's primary shopping district in London. Please proceed with caution and keep these instructions private. The entrance is hidden from non-magical persons (Muggles) for security purposes.
Harry rushed to flip the page.
ACCESSING DIAGON ALLEY FROM MUGGLE LONDON:
1. Proceed to Charing Cross Road in Central London. Between numbers 93 and 95, you will find a shabby-looking pub called THE LEAKY CAULDRON. Most Muggles cannot see it, their eyes will slide past it, but those with magical blood will perceive it clearly.
2. Enter through the front door. The interior will be dark and rather cramped. Do not be alarmed by the clientele, wizarding folk can appear unusual to those unaccustomed to our ways.
3. Proceed through the pub to the back courtyard. You will find a brick wall. Count three bricks up from the rubbish bin, two across. Tap this brick three times with your wand (if you do not yet possess a wand, any concentrated magical intent while touching the brick should suffice and focus your will upon opening the passage).
4. The wall will open to reveal DIAGON ALLEY. Gringotts Wizarding Bank is the large white building at the far end, it is run by goblins, who are quite safe despite their fierce appearance.
5. From Gringotts, you may purchase all required items. Most shops accept both wizard currency (Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts) and will exchange Muggle money at the bank.
IMPORTANT: For your safety, please inform someone of your destination. The magical world, while wondrous, can be dangerous to the unprepared. If possible, seek guidance from a trusted adult witch or wizard.
That solved the most pressing of Harry's concerns. Knowing that his hidden money would get him somewhere in the world and knowing where to go gave him a sense of purpose.
Putting the letters back in the envelope, Harry once again tucked it away before washing himself thoroughly to get rid of the smell of sweat.
The rest of the day passed in monotony as Harry cooked dinner, listening to Uncle Vernon talk about his day.
"They absolutely loved him, Petunia."
"Of course they did, Vernon. My little Dudkins is the best."
After dinner was completed, Harry was rewarded for a hard day's work with two stale slices of toast and a cup of water to wash them down, before being put back into the cupboard. And for the first time in years, Harry went in happily.
Using the sliver of light that was being let through the cupboard door, Harry pried the loose floorboard open.
He had discovered it a couple of years back when he watched a spider slither out of it. In there, he had stored up his stash of money that he had scrounged over the years. Stuffing the crumpled bills into his pocket alongside the letter, Harry let the noise of the Dursleys lull him to sleep.