Harry carefully crossed off August 31st on the calendar that Lily had hung on his bedroom door.

"Tomorrow, huh?"

Harry turned to see James, leaning against the wall, arms crossed, smiling. Harry nodded, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

"Well then," James said soberly. "You're going to need this," he opened the hallway closet and pulled out a box. "Come on," he said conspiratorially. "Let's go in your room," he looked down the hall before ushering Harry into his bedroom.

Harry put the box on his bed and opened it. Reaching in, he removed the contents one at a time. First, there was a velvet bag of Sickles.

"For sweets on the train," James said.

Harry grinned, and set the bag on the bed before removing the next thing- a box of smoke bombs.

"For... distractions." James laughed. He pulled out a small mirror. "This," he said, handing it to Harry, "is a two-way mirror. I have the other one. If you need me, use it. No matter what time it is. Got it?"

Harry nodded, laying the mirror on the bed.

There were sweets and joke products and pictures of his family... and then at the very bottom of the box, there were two things Harry didn't recognize.

"Let me show you this one," James said, taking what appeared to be a scrap of parchment out of the box. He laid it out on the bed and drew his wand. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," James intoned, tapping the parchment with the tip on his wand.

Harry watched as the parchment seemed to bleed black ink from the center, forming lines and boxes and dots.

James looked giddy. "I've been waiting for 11 years to show this to you." He pointed at the parchment. "This is the Marauder's Map. Remus, Sirius, and I made it when we were in school. It shows you the location of every single person in Hogwarts at any time. Keep an eye on the teachers," he said sagely.

"So cool," Harry said, examining it. "Who is Wormtail?"

"A useless member of our group," James said lightly. "Now, it's very important to wipe the map when you're finished." He tapped the parchment again. "Mischief managed."

"Wicked," Harry carefully folded the map.

"There's also ways out of the castle on that map," James said, adopting his best father look. "I expect you to use that feature responsibly, right?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "I promise, Dad. Really."

"Good," James nodded. "And be careful with it. I had to have the Weasley twins steal it back from Filch, so don't let the old guy get it again."

"What's this?" Harry pulled out the last item in the box. It was a large, gauzy piece of fabric.

"That," James said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "has been in the family for a long time. Your Grandpa Potter gave it to me, and now I'm giving it to you." He took the fabric and threw it around his son's shoulders. "Look down."

Harry looked, and stepped back in surprise. His feet were gone!

"It's an invisibility cloak," James grinned. "They're very rare, so you've got to be careful. But even more important... you cannot tell your mother."

Harry spun around, marveling at how his feet popped in and out of view. "Wow," he said breathlessly. It was the only thing he could think to say.

"'Wow', indeed," James laughed. "Now, put all this stuff in the bottom of your trunk. Except the money. You can tell your mother about the money." He opened Harry's trunk and moved some of the clothes aside.

"Mum already gave me money," Harry confessed.

James shrugged. "Okay, then put that," he pointed to the Sickles, "in the trunk too. For emergencies. Or whatever."

"Thanks, Dad," Harry wrapped his arms around his father's waist.

"You're welcome, kiddo. I'm going to miss you around here." James ran one hand through his son's messy hair.

"I can visit... right?"

James looked down at him. "Any time you want. You say the word," he said seriously, any trace of teasing gone from his voice.

Harry nodded. "I don't suppose I could sneak my broom into that trunk..."

James shook his head sympathetically. "Sorry, kid. That rule comes from above my pay grade."

*H*P*

"Are you really Harry Potter?" A boy poked his head into the compartment Harry and Ron had settled in.

"Yeah," Harry said uncomfortably. He never quite knew what to say. Usually he let his parents handle the questions. It's not like he could remember that night anyway.

"So... do you really have the... you know...?"

Harry sighed and pulled his bangs back from his forehead to show the lightning scar.

"So that's where You-Know-Who-

"Yes," Ron snapped, stepping between the prying eyes of the boy and Harry. "Why don't you find a seat somewhere else?"

"Thanks," Harry muttered as Ron sat back down.

"Can't let you get that much attention," Ron joked. "Might make you all stuck up or something."

"I'm starving," Harry said, digging out his money. "Do you want something from the cart?"

"Mum packed sandwiches," Ron said sadly, holding up a package of slightly squished sandwiches. "Corned beef."

"You hate corned beef," Harry made a face. "I'm getting us pasties." He went out into the middle of the train to flag down the trolley.

When he returned, there was a girl in their car. She had frizzy hair, and had apparently been talking to Ron nonstop since she appeared.

"I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard. I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough. I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"

Harry looked at Ron, not sure he even remembered his name in after listening to Hermione's monologue.

"I'm Ron Weasley," Ron muttered.

"Harry Potter," Harry said, wondering if it would be rude to pretend to go deaf suddenly.

"Are you really?" said Hermione. "I know all about you, of course. I got a few extra books or background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."

"Am I?" Harry felt dazed. He knew almost nothing about the night Voldemort was defeated. His parents told him that You-Know-Who tried to attack them, but Severus Snape had saved them. And that he'd gotten his scar because he was hit with a stray spell.

"Goodness, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," said Hermione, rummaging in her bag and pulling out Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century. "Here," she said, handing him the book. "I've got to go look for Neville's toad. You two better change."

She half bounced, half stalked out of the compartment. Harry looked at the book in his hand and shook his head, throwing it on the seat and reaching for his trunk.

"You aren't going to read it?"

Harry shrugged. "It's weird."

"Yeah, it's like last year when Charlie was in an article about using dragons in the military," Ron said. "It's weird seeing someone you know in print."

"Weirder seeing yourself, I'd imagine," Harry shrugged again. He pulled his uniform and robes out of the trunk.

*H*P*

After the feast, Harry laid the Marauder's Map out on his red comforter. There were decidedly more dots on the map now than there were before. There was quite a group crowded in the owlry, probably sending home the results of the sorting.

Harry wiped the map and tucked it into his trunk. He'd drawn the curtains around his bed, not wanting to share his amazing new toy with the rest of the Gryffindors, but he needn't have worried. Everyone else was downstairs in the common room, celebrating the beginning of term.

Harry started to close his trunk and join them, when he saw the book Hermione had given him on the train. What did it say about him?

HARRY JAMES POTTER (July 30, 1980-     )

Harry Potter, also known as "The Boy Who Lived" was born July 30, 1980 to James Henry Potter and Lily Marie (Evans) Potter. Potter was credited with defeating He Who Must Not Be Named October 31, 1981, as well as being the only known wizard to have survived the Killing Curse.

The Potter family went into hiding after multiple threats against their lives. It is unknown why the most notorious Dark wizard in history so desperately wanted the Potters dead.

On October 31, 1981, He Who Must Not Be Named entered the Potter residence. According to reports, he went straight to the youngest Potter's bedroom. When Lily Potter attempted to protect him, He Who Must Not Be Named attempted to kill her, only to be thwarted by Severus Snape (see page 846). Snape was killed in the ensuing struggle.

He Who Must Not Be Named then turned the Killing Curse on Harry Potter, however the spell rebounded, causing He Who Must Not Be Named's death and the characteristic lightning scar the Wizarding world has come to know.

Sirius Black was originally arrested for conspiracy to commit murder until it was revealed that the Potters had changed their Secret Keeper. Peter John Pettigrew, the man responsible for revealing the Potters' position to He Who Must Not Be Named, is still at large. To this day, the Auror Department has an open file pursuing his arrest.

Harry closed the book. Sirius was arrested? His parents had never mentioned that. They'd never mentioned Peter Pettigrew, either. And they definitely hadn't mentioned that the Killing Curse was meant for him.

Harry pulled the two-way mirror out of his trunk. "Dad," he said, into the glass.

"Hey, sport," James's face appeared in the mirror. "Is that Gryffindor Crimson I see behind you?"

Harry heard his mother cheering in the background.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Ron and me both."

"It's in your blood," James said, grinning.

"Hey, Dad?"

James looked harder at his son's face. "What's wrong, Harry?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing, it's just... this girl gave me a book on the train-

"Already with the girls?" James grinned. "You really are a Potter, my boy."

"It's not like that," Harry felt his face flush. "She gave me this history book because... I'm in it."

James paused. "Did you read it?"

Harry nodded. "Why didn't you tell me?"

James sighed. "Why didn't we tell you what, Harry?"

"That he tried to kill me. That the whole world knows. That I'm the reason he's gone."

"Harry-bear," Lily pushed into the frame. "We just didn't think you needed to worry about it."

"Does Ron know?"

Lily frowned. "I think so. Why do you ask?"

"So maybe he's not really my friend," Harry said quietly. "Maybe he only hangs out with me because I'm famous."

"Not true," James said firmly. "We've done a lot to protect you from people who want to take advantage of you."

"I can't believe you let me come here," Harry said, his voice thicker. "Everyone knows me and I don't know anyone. I'm going to have to learn about myself in History class!"

James snorted. "Binns will never get past the Goblin Wars, so I wouldn't worry about it."

"James," Lily hissed. "Sweetheart, it's late. Why don't you go to bed. Things always look better in the morning. Your father and I will come tomorrow night and we can talk more, okay?"

Harry bit his lip. "I can't go to class tomorrow."

"Yes you can," Lily said gently. "Everyone else is going to be too nervous and excited to worry about you. Go to bed. We'll talk tomorrow."

Harry didn't believe her, but nodded anyway. "Goodnight, Mum. Dad."

"Goodnight, honey," Lily said. "We love you."

Harry put the mirror back in his trunk and lay down. There was no way he was going downstairs now.