Eight months after Voldemort’s defeat.
Albus Dumbledore hummed cheerfully to himself as he pottered around his office preparing for the new school year. And why shouldn’t he? This year would be very different to last year, this year would be the first year in some time not to be overshadowed by fear and death. Last October Voldemort had been defeated (by a baby, no less!) and last month the last of the Death Eater trials had been concluded. It might be, as Albus strongly suspected, that Voldemort would return, not truly destroyed despite Harry and Lily’s remarkable work, but that was for the future. It could be that an entire generation would grow up without knowing the taint of the man who sought to escape death and impose his will upon the entire world.
With a sigh of satisfaction, Albus took out the Hogwarts Scroll and sat down as he unrolled it, looking over with a paternal eye the names of the children who might now grow up safe and happy. Children were the most precious treasure in any society and that the children destined to attend Hogwarts would be allowed to keep their innocence was a joy and a delight. Albus smiled, feeling a deep contentment with the world.
Until, that was, he noticed that one name had been crossed out by the magic of the scroll that registered the appearance of magical children, a line ruled neatly through it. It was almost unheard of that a name should be crossed out, for once magic had begun to exert its influence over a child’s body it was almost impossible to suppress or remove. The name that had been crossed out wasn’t just any name, either, but one the whole wizarding world would recognise: Harry James Potter.
Albus frowned. Harry was magical, there could be no doubt of that. Not only had his name appeared on the scroll the moment he was born, but he had (with his mother’s help) defeated Voldemort.
His frown cleared. Ah, of course, it must have been something to do with Voldemort’s attack that had caused this anomaly. Perhaps the magic of Lily’s sacrifice, Old Magic, strange magic, was interfering with the scroll’s ability to register Harry’s magical signature. That was easily fixed. Pulling out his phoenix quill, kindly donated by Fawkes some years ago and used only for the most important of purposes, Albus’s narrow, looping writing added a new name to the foot of the scroll. The name, having been manually added, couldn’t be removed by the scroll’s magic.
“There,” Albus said aloud, perfectly satisfied, and put the scroll away with a sense of having justly carried out his duties. How terrible if Harry had somehow been missed when it came his turn to be invited to Hogwarts! It was good he had caught the mistake.
The scroll, being an inanimate object, couldn’t complain. It would have, though, if it could.
--
Nearly ten years after Voldemort’s defeat.
Albus thought no more of the strange matter of Harry’s name being removed from the scroll. After all, he’d dealt with the problem and it was no longer a problem. Why would he think about it? But Harry Potter presented him, nine years later, with a new problem. Having pushed the earlier incident from his mind, Albus didn’t connect this problem with the old one. Instead he frowned at the piece of Muggle stationery that had arrived in the school’s Muggle post, maintained for the benefit of the Muggleborns.
Dear Hogwarts, it read in careful but untidy child’s writing. Thank you for your offer but I’m going to another school.
Yours sincerely,
Harry Potter
Albus read the missive three times as if it would suddenly change its meaning. Then he put it down on the desk and gave a firm nod. He had not become one of the wizarding world’s acknowledged greats by refusing to deal with problems; this might be a kink in his plans to help Harry save the world but that was all right, he wouldn’t be put off. It was too important that Harry be given the tools he needed to help him in the task Albus knew would fall to him. Harry would come to Hogwarts.
Albus would make sure of it.