In the morning, Harry woke up to soft voices next to his bed. He blinked and saw Poppy sit on a chair next to his bed together with another elder woman. They were both smiling at him warmly.

“Good morning, Harry; how are you feeling?” Poppy queried.

“Happy Christmas, Harry, and welcome to Hogwarts,” the other woman told him, causing a small smile to appear on his lips.

“Good morning,” he replied, noticing that his voice sounded very hoarse. “I feel much better. Thank you so much,” he informed the Healer.

“This, Harry, is Professor McGonagall,” Poppy gently introduced her colleague.

A small bang from the other side of the room caused Harry to turn his eyes towards the doors, where the Headmaster just entered the room. ‘He looks like Father Christmas, although he isn’t dressed in red clothes and instead wears glasses,’ Harry mused, gaping at the man’s long white beard.

“Good morning, Harry, and Merry Christmas. How are you on this fine morning?” Dumbledore enquired gently, taking a seat next to Professor McGonagall.

“I’m much better,” Harry replied in a small voice, before he couldn’t help blurting out, “You look a bit like Father Christmas.”

The Headmaster laughed, and his eyes began to twinkle happily. “Well, that might be, my boy. He wears a similar white beard it seems. However, I am Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of this school, and I heard that Father Christmas brought you here because of health problems and because he didn’t find your upbringing with your relatives adequate.”

“Excuse me, sir, but where are we exactly?” Harry asked in confusion. “I know that Father Christmas explained several things to me, but I wasn’t feeling so well and I didn’t understand everything he told me.”

Dumbledore thoughtfully stroked his beard, before he threw Poppy a questioning look.

“Harry, Father Christmas explained about magic and told you that you’re a wizard just like we are witches and wizards,” the Healer gently explained to the child. “He also told you that I came from Hogwarts, a magical school, before I brought you here. At the moment, you’re at the hospital wing, because you are very ill with lung infection. All magical children from the age of eleven onwards attend this school, and even your parents studied here when they were children.”

“My parents?” Harry queried, while his eyes lit up in amazement. “Were they...?” He trailed off unsurely.

“Yes, sweetie, your parents were both my students, very good students I might say, and they were very powerful magical people just like you,” McGonagall informed the child in a soft voice.

“When your parents died, I thought it would be the best if you grew up with your aunt,” Dumbledore explained gravely, “but obviously my choice wasn’t the best and for that I have to apologize. From now on, you’re going to live with someone here in the castle, if that is what you want.”

“Where is Severus by the way?” McGonagall queried, throwing Dumbledore a questioning look.

“Ah, Severus was throwing a temper tantrum at the news, but well, he’ll come over it,” the Headmaster gave back. “He is supposed to be here shortly with a stronger pneumonia potion for Harry, which should enable him to get up for a few hours to enjoy Christmas breakfast in the Great Hall with us.”

An instant later, the doors opened with a loud ‘bang,’ and a younger man, completely dressed in black, strode into the room. He approached Harry’s bed with a sneer and thrust a phial into the Headmaster’s hands, before he turned on his heels. However, he was only able to walk a few steps, before Dumbledore called him back.

“Severus, I’d like to introduce Harry to you, and I wish that you accompany us to the Great Hall for Christmas breakfast,” he informed the man in a no-nonsense voice.

“Albus, I’ll join you in the Great Hall in a few minutes. You know what you asked of me, and I have to prepare several things,” Snape gave back and strode from the room with his robes dramatically billowing behind him.

Everyone turned back to Harry, whom Poppy gently helped to sit up, so that he could take the potion Snape had just brought for him. “That was Professor Snape, our Potions Master,” McGonagall explained softly, causing Harry to giggle.

“He was funny,” Harry replied, coughing. ‘But somehow like a stubborn child, perhaps a bit like Dudley,’ he mused, before he gulped down the potion, sighing in relief as he felt his body cool down immensely. “And his potions are brilliant,” he added in complete amazement.

“That they are,” the Headmaster agreed gently. “Harry, if you feel well enough to get up you may accompany us to the Great Hall for a few hours. We’re going to have breakfast, and we have to see if Father Christmas brought something for us.” Seeing that Harry’s face darkened immensely, he continued, “I saw at least two presents with your name on them. I also want to introduce you to all of our teachers, and I’d like you to speak with them and think about whom you like best. All of them, including the three of us, are willing to take you in, so that you can live with them in the castle until you’re old enough to become a student here.”

“So I won’t have to return to the Dursleys?” Harry asked in a small voice with a hopeful expression on his face.

“Exactly, my boy.”

Harry’s attention was diverted when Poppy pointed her wand at his head, before she sighed and told him, “All right, Harry. You may get up for a while. However, you have to promise me that you’ll tell me if you feel worse and go back to bed.”

Harry cringed under her piercing look and promised in a small voice, “I’ll tell you.”

As soon as he sat up to get up, McGonagall pointed her wand at him, exchanging his hospital pyjamas with dark blue trousers and a white shirt as well as green robes just like her own.

HP HEALER POMFREY HP

Knowing that Harry was only feeling well because he was under the effect of the strong potion, the adults walked down to the Great Hall in a very moderate pace that gave Harry the opportunity to look at the moving pictures along the corridor in complete amazement, which only increased tenfold when they entered the Great Hall.

“This place is absolutely beautiful,” Harry breathed in awe, looking around the Great Hall, which was decorated festively with several huge Christmas trees.

McGonagall and Pomfrey ushered Harry to a seat at the breakfast table, and the Deputy Headmistress gently introduced all the teachers to the boy, while they were waiting for breakfast to begin. “Breakfast will commence as soon as Professor Snape joins us; he is the last to make his appearance,” she informed Harry in a small voice.

All of a sudden, a tall black figure stormed into the hall, took a small detour around the huge Christmas tree to drop something under the tree, and finally sat down at the table a few seats to the right of Harry, causing the Headmaster to clap his hands, so that breakfast appeared on the table.

McGonagall and Pomfrey, who were sitting on both sides of Harry, laid a little bit of everything on Harry’s plate, trying to coax him into eating a few bites. ‘Am I allowed to eat at the table together with the teachers?’ Harry mused in surprise, but he noticed soon that the kind women seemed to expect him to eat. Nevertheless, he could only stomach a few bites, before he felt completely full.

“Well, Harry, shall we go and see what Father Christmas brought for all of us?” the Headmaster invited him, seeing that he had finished eating, and motioned him over to the largest Christmas tree, under which Harry could see several piles of presents.

Harry crawled under the tree and pulled the first pile out, before he proceeded to read the names on the presents, handing the boxes to their respective owners. After a few minutes, he found one addressed to himself. “Harry Potter,” he read, looking at the present in absolute amazement, before he cradled it close and threw the Headmaster a happy smile.

“Your first Christmas present?” McGonagall, who was standing next to Dumbledore, asked softly, causing Harry to throw her an enthusiastic nod. “Open it, sweetie,” she suggested gently.

Harry carefully took off the colourful wrapping paper, finding a book inside. ‘Hogwarts: A History,’ the title said. ‘Oh, a book just for myself,’ he mused in complete amazement as he sat down on the spot and began to read.

“Harry, are you not going to open all your other presents?” McGonagall’s voice suddenly penetrated his ears, causing Harry to look up.

“Oh, I’m sorry, but this is so interesting,” Harry explained, “it’s...” Unfortunately, he was interrupted by a coughing fit, causing the teacher to look at him piercingly.

“Are you still feeling all right, Harry?” McGonagall queried, carefully extending a hand to his forehead.

“I’m fine,” Harry replied, slightly unnerved at the attention, and tried hard not to flinch back at the cold touch. He quickly turned to the other presents and discovered several more books as well as a huge package containing clothes. “Is this really all for me?” he enquired, incredulously gaping at two pairs of trousers, three sweatshirts, a warm jumper, pyjamas, underwear, socks, a warm scarf, mittens, a hat, and a warm winter jacket.

“Of course this is for you, sweetie. I suppose Father Christmas noticed that you’re in dire need of clothes. We still need to get shoes and robes for you, but that has to wait until you’re completely recovered,” McGonagall told him in a soft voice.

Finally, there was only one present left, which had a different form from all the others, and Harry opened it anxiously. “What is this?” he asked in complete surprise at the content.

“That is a Potions starter kit,” Pomfrey explained gently. “For most subjects taught at Hogwarts you need a wand, but for the brewing of most potions no wand is needed, and perhaps Father Christmas thought you’d like to try out brewing potions.”

“I’d love to try to brew. Perhaps it’ll be easier for me than other things, because I know how to cook,” Harry mused aloud, startled when the Potions Master let out a loud snort.

“Of course, leave it to a Potter to believe that he already could brew Potions,” Snape sneered at the child, causing Harry to frown.

“Professor, I’m sorry if what I said sounded as if I could already brew. Of course I don’t, but I’d love to learn it. Would you please teach me how to brew?” Harry asked anxiously, hesitantly looking up into the teacher’s obsidian eyes.

“Yes,” Snape replied grumpily, seeing from the corner of his eye that the Headmaster threw him a demanding look. “Shall we begin immediately?” he queried, searching his mind for an adequate fourth year healing potion, which an eight-year-old would definitely not be able to brew.

“Yes please,” Harry gave back enthusiastically, and after a few minutes, during which McGonagall, Pomfrey, Sprout, and the Headmaster had admonished the Potions Master to be friendly, keep an eye on him, and not make him aggravate his condition, he followed the teacher out of the Great Hall in delighted expectation, his new Potions kit in his hands.