The End of Anonymity
Harry James Potter was an odd child. Actually no, that’s not right. Odd was crushing your fairy wings with a magically inert mortar for a potion as simple as Pepper-Up. When everyone knows that Pepper-Up isn’t sensitive enough to warrant anything more than the base mortar and pestle which came with any beginner potion set. No. What Harry Potter was, was peculiar. Nobody ever really thought of him, he wasn’t a particularly controversial character, nor was he particularly popular. But he wasn’t enough of a loner to be known for not being known. Most people in his classes and his house had spoken to him once or twice at the very least and would recognise him by name or by face. If questioned they would all have had a vague inclination to suggest that he was a fairly successful student, even the Ravenclaw students would have admitted that he was rather intelligent. In fact he was one of those students whose grades were always on the top end of things although rarely the very best. Not because he didn’t understand his theory, in fact he had a rather good grasp of theory, nor because he couldn’t physically handle the magic with his spells and engravings having an almost intuitive grasp to them. Simply put, Harry had never really seen the point of essays and as Wenlock’s Principle put it, 77% of a result came from 23% of effort which to Harry was more than enough for what he saw to be “redundant school work”. This isn’t to say that he never fully applied himself. He simply had his priorities and they were rather streamlined towards practical applications.
Now this would probably have been something his parents would have picked up on if they had been in any position to do so. Unfortunately, this was not the case. To put it bluntly they had died a little over a year after he was born in one of the worst attacks in recent history. Now If you asked anyone who James Fleamont Potter or Lily Potter, née Evans, were, you would be guaranteed a reaction. Most people who were friends with them growing up would describe them in gushing terms about how kind and intelligent they were. To the general public they would have recognised James as a well-respected member of the Potter family and would have remembered his obituary in the Daily Prophet in which he was described as having some of the best defensive transfiguration skills on Azkaban at the time. Lily would have been recognised as the unknown muggleborn who married into a well established family. For those who had read her obituary it would have claimed that she was responsible for more than a few lives being saved by her but no more details would be with her charms and her legendary rune wall which was still powered to this day. To anyone that had served on Azkaban with or since them they would have been two of many names on the wall of those who had never left the Dark Isle and even the staunchest of Pureblood would grudgingly admit that the defences they had left behind which still stood to this day were responsible for much more restful nights. Nobody quite knew how they had achieved the rune wall they had built; however, nobody would ever dream of destroying it. Well, nobody sane anyway.
It might surprise you then, after this glowing endorsement, that Harry Potter was not thought of as the child of the two of the most creative defensive architects to have worked on Azkaban. It was a peculiar situation. To most people, he was just Harry Potter, he was nobody special. If it was pointed out that he shared the same name as James, or that his eyes were incredibly similar to Lily’s, they would have a sudden realisation, akin to that feeling when you remember something that’s been on the tip of your tongue for hours. A crescendo of connections being made between Harry’s skills, mannerisms, and looks to those of his parents. However, after a few minutes they would have forgotten all about this and returned to what they were doing. There were a select few, who did not fall victim to this peculiar situation. If anyone had ever considered it properly they would have realised that of the people who instantly made the connection between Harry and his parents, how could they not after all given his incredible resemblance to them, and who were always confused, and slightly concerned by everyone else’s ignorance to him, they would have realised that they all had one thing in common. They were all Masters of Occlumency. They all had control over their own mind. All this was completely blown out the window of course the day his name came out the Goblet of Fire.