“Oi, Harry, where’d you get that scar?”

Harry blinked and looked up at Ron in confusion. They had been looking at Quidditch books for the past hour and now Ron was asking him about a scar? Which one?

“Wha’ scar?”

Ron pointed at his forehead and Harry lifted a hand to brush his hair back.

“This? Oi, what’s wit’ ye?”

Ron’s jaw fell to his feet as he stared at Harry’s forehead, blue eyes wide. He stuttered, “Yo-you-your H-H-Harry P-Potter!”

“An’ yer point is?”

Ron sputtered, “Y-your famous!”

Harry arched an eyebrow. “Last time I looked I was jus’ a street rat.”

“No! You’re famous in our world! Everyone knows your name?”

“I doubt tha’.”

“Harry, you’re not listening.”

“And yer talkin’ nonsense.”

“Stop talking like that!”

“Like wha’?”

“Cockney!”

“This is the way I talk! ‘Cuse me fer bein’ brought up in the streets! It ain’t easy ye know!”

Ron sputtered some more then ran out of the room, leaving Harry to blink in confusion then charge after him.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Mum! Muuuuum!”

“Merlin’s beard…. Ron?”

Mrs. Weasley came out of the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel. She frowned at her youngest son, who was panting at the bottom of the stairs.

“Is there something you wanted to tell me?”

Ron regained his breath and pointed back up the stairs. He gasped, “He-he…”

“Harry?”

Ron nodded vigorously and stuttered, “He-he-he…”

Percy, Fred, and George all frowned at their younger brother and Percy said, “You sound like Professor Quirrell.”

Ron scowled at them then yelled, “He’s Harry Potter!”

Silence fell like a sledgehammer on the room.

“What?” breathed Mrs. Weasley.

“I’m Harry Potter,” said a voice from further up the stairs. All eyes swept upwards to Harry, who was watching them with an emotionless gaze.

Mrs. Weasley blinked several times then said, “I-I need to sit down.” She staggered into the living room and fell onto the couch. Ron sat down on one side of her, Percy on the other as Fred and George took up spaces in chairs. Harry followed them, leaning against the doorframe, emerald eyes flicking from one to another. After a moment of silence Harry growled, “Anyone care t’ explain why exactly Ron ‘ere says I’m famous?”

The assembled Weasley’s all looked at one another then Mrs. Weasley said, “We couldn’t possibly tell you the whole story.”

“Then who can?” spat Harry, annoyed.

“Albus Dumbledore.”

“Could we ge’ him now?”

Mrs. Weasley said, “We can try.”

Harry frowned.

“Please do.”

Mrs. Weasley, shaking just a little, walked over to the fireplace and began to do something to it. Ron, Fred, George, and Percy all swept their eyes over to Harry, who scowled furiously at him and snarled, “Stop gawkin’ a’ me. It’s bloody annoyin’.”

The four boys turned away but Harry caught them sneaking glances at him. Snorting he watched Mrs. Weasley working at the fireplace. She suddenly called, “Headmaster Dumbledore’s Office, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” There was a pop from the fire then an ancient looking man with long white hair and half-moon glasses framing bright blue eyes appeared. Or at least his head did.

“Ah, Molly. How good to see you again.”

“You as well, professor. Erm – I have some news.”

“News?” said Dumbledore, puzzled.

“About Harry Potter.”

Dumbledore blinked then and said, “What about him?”

Mrs. Weasley replied, “He’s here, professor.”

Dumbledore’s eyes widened and he said, “Move back, Molly. I’m coming through.” With that his head vanished. Mrs. Weasley moved away just as the flames burned green and then Dumbledore stepped into the Weasley’s living room, banishing soot from his robes with his wand. He then spotted Harry leaning against the doorframe and said, “Harry. It seems you have been found after all.”

Harry smirked, “Yea. Seems tha’ way.” He paused then said, “Mrs. Weasley said ye could tell me why I’m, er – famous.”

Dumbledore nodded and asked, “Why don’t we go into the kitchen?”

Harry looked at the old wizard for a moment then pushed himself off the doorframe in a liquid motion and vanished into the kitchen. As he did, Dumbledore turned to Mrs. Weasley and asked, “Where did you find him?”

“In the Leaky Cauldron. He had wandered in, dressed in dirty rags and with hair to rival Severus Snape’s. What has he been through, professor?”

“Only he can tell us that,” replied Dumbledore as he patted Mrs. Weasley’s arm then walked into the kitchen.

/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/

“Harry, sit down.”

Harry sat, keeping on the edge of his chair. Dumbledore sat across from him at the kitchen table and watched Harry with twinkling blue eyes. Harry didn’t believe that twinkle for a moment. Years on the streets had given him the gift of telling if people were dangerous or not. And he could tell that Dumbledore had the ability to be very dangerous.

“First, I would like to ask you some questions.”

Harry narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. He said darkly, “I’d rather ye answer mine firs’.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Of course. I believe the beginning is a good place to start.”

“Always is,” said Harry. Dumbledore looked at him for a moment then began to speak.

“Twenty years ago a Dark Wizard who called himself Voldemort appeared. He gathered many followers to him, promising them many things, such as power. They ran caused chaos in the wizarding world for many years until ten years ago, when Voldemort was….incapacitated.”

Harry watched as Dumbledore paused, looking at him once before continuing.

“On Halloween night, he went to the village where your parents lived. Godric’s Hollow, it was called. Your parents had been hiding from Voldemort after he began to look for them. James, your father, made his best friend their Secret Keeper. He was the only one who knew where they were. But they were betrayed. Voldemort found out where they were and went to Godric’s Hollow.”

Dumbledore’s eyes locked with Harry’s as he continued talking.

“James was killed first. Your mother died trying to protect you. And that,” said Dumbledore, pointing at the lightning bolt scar, “is a curse scar. Voldemort tried to kill you as well. And he failed. You defeated him, Harry. That, my boy, is why you are famous.”

Harry blinked.

“I defeated a full-grown wizard? Sir, I think ye got the wrong person.”

Dumbledore shook his head and said, “No, Harry, I don’t. And you know it.”

Harry shivered as the blue eyes bored into his own. He closed his eyes to get away from them and saw a flash of brilliant green light, accompanied by a woman’s scream. That was a nightmare that often haunted his sleep. His eyes snapped open and he breathed, “Green ligh’.”

Dumbledore nodded. “The curse Voldemort used to kill your parents was called Avada Kedavra. It appears as a green light and is one of the Unforgivable Curses. Using it can put you in Azkaban, the wizard’s prison, for life.”

Harry blinked. His parents. Killed by a Dark Wizard that he had defeated. Harry shook his head and began to laugh. He could feel Dumbledore staring at him but he didn’t care. For some reason he found the whole situation very funny.

When he finally stopped laughing, Harry brushed tears from his eyes and looked at Dumbledore, his face settling into the emotionless mask he put on during one of Argil’s beatings. He asked, “Now wha’ do I do? I don’ want to go back ter the streets.”

Dumbledore smiled kindly and Harry felt himself warming up to the man. He felt like he could trust him with anything.

“Harry, you will be going to Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts?” said Harry in confusion.

Dumbledore nodded and pulled an envelope out of a pocket in his cloak. He handed it to Harry, who turned it over and looked at the strange seal on the back. A lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake, all combined around a large H. Very strange. Harry opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. Any of the other children at Argil’s might not have been able to read but Harry was. He had taught himself out of old books he had found. The letter read –

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 July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Harry read the letter twice then looked up at Dumbledore.

“Is this serious?”

Dumbledore nodded and said, “Your name has been down for Hogwarts since you were born, Harry. And I presume that today is the day you turn eleven, correct?”

Harry frowned, counting the days in his head. After a moment he nodded then looked down at the letter again. Looking up again, he asked, “Where will I stay ‘til then?”

“Here, if you like,” replied Dumbledore. “Or I could send someone to bring you up to the school.”

Harry shook his head and tucked both the letter and the envelope into his back pocket.

“’Ere’s fine. If I can get Ron ter stop starin’ a’ me.”

Dumbledore smiled and said, “Well, then. I shall be going. Goodbye, Harry.”

“Goodbye, professor.”

Dumbledore left Harry alone in the kitchen, but he wasn’t alone for long as Ron, Fred, and George came bounding in a moment later. All of their eyes flicked up to his scar and Harry snarled, “Will ye stop doin’ tha’? It’s getting’ on mah bleedin’ nerves and ye don’t want ter get on my nerves.”

The three boys nodded then sat down at the table, their eyes focused on Harry. Fred said, “So your really Harry Potter.”

Harry rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair.

“I thought that was obvious. Ye know, the scar ‘n all.”

Fred looked flabbergasted then Ron asked, “Are you going to Hogwarts?”

“Yeh.”

“So you’ll be in the same year as me! Crikey.”

“Lucky you, Ronnikins,” said Fred.

“Yea, best friends with the Boy-Who-Lived,” put in George.

Now Harry was confused.

“Boy-Who-Lived?”

All three of them looked at him like he was mad. Harry was about to scowl at them when realization dawned on him.

“Ah. I’m the Boy-Who-Lived.”

George grinned. “Got it in one.”

“Good job, Sherlock,” said Fred.

Ron shook his head at his twin brothers then asked, “Want to go back upstairs, Harry?”

“Yeh. I want ter finish lookin’ at tha’ Quidditch book. Looks like fun.”

Fred and George grinned at each other as the two younger boys rose. George said, “It is. Bloody messy too.” Fred nodded. “Yea. Horrid game, Quidditch.”

Harry gave them a Look. “Unless I ge’ hit by a Bludger, I’d be fine.”

“Sure,” said Fred and George at the same time. This time Harry did scowl at them. He then said, “C’mon, Ron.” With that the two younger boys left the kitchen. As soon as they were out of hearing the twins looked at each other.

Fred said, “Did I just see what I thought I saw?”

“Yea,” said George.

“Harry Potter…”

“…looks remarkably like…”

“Professor Snape,” said both twins.