Of explanations and Promises
"You're a wizard Harry." The man had spoken. His words had been said to sincerely. So truthfully that when Harry had given him a look of pity and anger, he half expected the man to pout in misery and throw a tantrum. Maybe he had escaped from some mental asylum or some hospital nearby? Maybe he just needed help?
"What? Are you..okay sir? Do you need to sit down? Maybe go to the hospital?" Harry smiled placatingly at him, retreating back ever so slightly one step at a time. "I'm..just going to call Ms Haskins, the owner out. I think she's more suited to help you here." He relished in the grimace overtaking the man's face and held back laughter at the vaguely annoyed look he made. He looked odd when he did so. Like a man wishing to dictate yet ending up looking no more than a helpless follower.
"No! No m'boy. That won't be necessary." The man burst out, his expression switching from annoyed to panicked the second Harry had touched the doorknob. "Would it perhaps help if I demonstrated a trick? To convince you that this isn't some elaborate hoax."
Harry didn't have the time to answer because before he knew it, he found himself staring at a pointed stick. "Right...you have a wand. Of course you have a wand." He murmured to himself, wondering what he did to warrant a situation like this. He retreated back further, gripping the doorknob tighter, already thinking of possible ways to escape this room if things took an unexpected turn.
"Why of course m'boy. We need wands to cast spells. Some powerful individuals are able to accomplish spells without the use of a wand but the majority of our world use a wand to get by. When I take you shopping for your supplies, you shall pick up your wand too." The man smiled at him. His lips upturning into a small curve, appearing more to him as a fake grandfatherly look than anything. The man was grasping at straws. Magic didn't exist. It was a meaningless fantasy, used to entertain children. But Harry wasn't a child. He hadn't been one since the minute he'd been thrown into the foster system. Magic didn't exist right? Of course it didn't.
Then why, did, all of a sudden, the hat rack next to him burst into flames. Letting out a quiet shriek of surprise, Harry scrambled to the side, stumbling to the floor and hurriedly moving back till his head touched the adjourning wall and his hands gripped the carpet so tight he was sure there would be nail marks when he let go. "How-" He squeaked stopping abruptly when with another swish of a wand, the fire was immediately extinguished and the ashes swirled in a circular motion before once again becoming an identical hat rack.
"Magic my dear boy. Magic."
Harry nodded slowly biting his lips and staring with wide eyes at the wand gripped in the man's hands with fear and awe. "Holy-"
"Do you believe me now?" The man chuckled, his expression smug and full of arrogance. His eyes twinkled brighter for a split second and he scaled the length of the room till he was standing next to a dumbstruck Harry who couldn't bring himself to do anything but nod frantically.
"Wonderful! Now, since all the formalities have been sorted, I believe it is time for us to go shopping for your school supplies."
"Uh, lets not get hasty." Harry chuckled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "You haven't even told me who you are. Or the schools name. Or..anything basically. I can't just go on a joyride with you without knowing who you are or where we're going."
The man stared at him with an indescribable look before jumping in shock and surprise. "Oh! Where is my mind today? My name is Albus Dumbledore. You may refer to me as Professor Dumbledore. I am the headmaster of Hogwarts school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school your parents attended when they where younger and the same school you have been invited to attend. There are a number of supplies you require to attend. Oh my! I've forgotten to give you the letter!" Dumbledore laughed nervously, reaching down in his robe's endless pockets and pulling out a slightly crumpled yet pristine envelope. Harry slowly took it from his hands and turned it over, tracing the words written on the front of the envelope.
Harry Potter.
The smallest bedroom in the corner.
Group Home 3115, Challis Road, London.
Letting out a short breath, he turned it over once more, flicking the envelope open with ease and pulling out the thick brown paper from inside. "Can..can I read it?" He whispered apprehensively, looking up for a brief second watching as Dumbledore nodded before delicately unfolding the paper and reading.
Hogwarts school for 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 a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find the enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment. The train for school will leave at 7:30. Your closest station is: Kings Cross Station. Please arrive promptly by 7:20 and find platform 9 and 3/4 accordingly.
Note: muggles will have no information concerning the whereabouts of such platform. There will be a booth, both used for latecomers and for students unsure. This booth is located within the help centre at Platform 9. It will be labelled with the inscription Rowena's School For Gifted Individuals.
School will begin at no later than 8:30am and will end at 4pm. The train shall leave at 4:40pm, allowing time for those within detentions. The term begins on September 1st. On September 1st and September 1st only, the train will leave at 1pm with school beginning at 2pm and the expected finish time 4pm. This is to allow proper time to conduct an induction and give out the necessary information regarding the school year.
Note: For any wishing to hide any information concerning the school and magic, please contact Minerva McGonagall via owl for a fake pamphlet, information and glamour charm for any supplies.
We await your owl by no longer than July 31st
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy headmistress
"They await my owl? I..uh don't have an owl sir? Would my admission still count if I reply today because the admission date is written as-" Harry rambled quickly, his eyes searching the page, reading the letters over and over.
"Not to worry m'boy! Since I have delivered this letter personally, a verbal response should suffice. Do you wish to attend Hogwarts Harry?" Dumbledore smiled.
Harry looked down, tracing the words on the letter over and over. Could this be real? Could he, Harry Potter, the meaningless orphan that everyone picked on, be a wizard? No. There must be some mistake. He was...just Harry. There was nothing special, nothing exciting about him. There never had been. So how could he believe this was true? There had to be some mistake.
"Uh..sir? Professor Dumbledore?" Harry enquired softly, never glancing up. "I think there's been some mistake. I-I can't be a wizard. I'm just..Harry. You probably have the wrong person. I'm sorry sir." Harry gently held the paper out, watching with anticipation as Dumbledore reached out and took the letter back. He felt disappointment fill his stomach. He was right. They probably did have the wrong person. Why, out of the 8 billion people in the world, would he be a wizard?
"Ah..but you are Mr Potter yes?" Dumbledore asked holding the letter up calmly beaming at Harry's hesitant nod. "And your parents were Lily and James Potter respectively? Yes I thought so. Now, Harry, I want you to remember if there ever was a time when something...out of the ordinary happened."
"No..I-I mean...there was this one time, when my teacher's hair turned blue. I didn't mean for it to happen but he was so rude and I just wished for it. I didn't think it would actually happen-"
Dumbledore cut him off with a hearty chuckle, handing the letter back to Harry. "Its quite all right Harry. We've all been in situations like yours. These encounters are called accidental magic and happen frequently in children, when their magical core is still undeveloped and they have yet to control their magic. Now I assume you are assured of your magical ability yes?"
"Yeah..I suppose..."
"Wonderful!" Dumbledore clapped his hands in glee, straightening his posture and gazing down at Harry who was still sat on the floor with his knees curled up to his chin and his hands still gripping the carpet. "Might I also assume you are eager to attend Hogwarts?"
At Harry's silent nod, Dumbledore seemed to brighten and almost jump with happiness. "Now! Onto the matter of supplies! If you look onto the second page of your letter, there is a supplies list listed. It might seem odd and intensive but Hogwarts is a school that prides itself on its...."
The rest of Dumbledore's speech was lost to Harry's mind. He was going to learn magic. He was... a wizard. He thought of the countless nights as a kid, reading fantasy stories, praying and wishing he'd be pulled into a world just like theirs one day, craving the expectation and thrill of adventure. He'd given it all up years ago, when a particularly cruel boy had come up to him and handed him a reality check. He thought it'd never happen. Yet here he was, being handed the opportunity on a silver platter. It felt more like a hazy dream than anything.
Harry wasn't sure of much. He didn't know if he'd fit in or whether he'd truly be able to learn magic. He didn't know if he'd like his teachers or if he'd ever be able to get a degree with what he was taught. Hell, he didn't even know if he'd pass his exams and actually graduate. But, if there was one thing he did know, it was that his life would change, the second he stepped onto the train to Hogwarts.
He knew he'd do anything to keep this fantasy from becoming anything less than reality.
Far away, 3 old ladies sat together in rocking chairs. Their hair tied in buns and their shaking hands grabbing onto strings of yarn. One lightly brushed the edges of a bright green coloured thread and cackled. The other, grabbing a fist full of light blue yarn and unravelling it, holding it out for her sister to snap in half.
They glanced at each other, expressions of varying degrees of happiness and glee painted on their faces, before all speaking in unison.
"The light will fall once and for all. Soon, Death's champion shall rise, his beloved family behind, ready to fight."
They repeated it over and over, watching in a crystal globe as Harry left the group home behind without a second glance, walking his way into the depths of a new world that eagerly waited his arrival.
You see,
In one universe, Tom Riddle grew mad. His thirst for power and immortality presiding over all rationality. He was not capable of love nor affection and watched as the world burned in his fury, underestimating the true power of love and family. The only painting that was mounted on his wall was of torture and bore the deathly hallows symbol. In this universe, Hadrian Salazar Riddle ceased to exist and Tom Riddle's perfect relationship with his wife ended when they both became mad with grief at the death of their son and Harry Potter was left at the doorstep of the Dursleys who took him in, treating him as if he was no better than a servant at their disposal. Harry Potter lived the life of a perfect golden boy, defeating Voldemort for good on the whim of Dumbledore and the cost of all those he loved in the final battle at last. Dumbledore may not have lived to see the ending, but he had written it. The light had won and the world returned as it was. Biased and full of destruction.
In another, Tom Riddle grew mad yet he knew the strength of love and the power it held. He won the war in the end, smiling as he stood, the dictator of Magical Britain. The sole painting mounted on his wall was of his son, next to him as they stood on top of the world while the rest bled crimson tears and muttered pleading regrets. His wife dead. Harry Potter was simply another child living life in his rule. Hadrian Salazar Riddle was still taken, yet when found, grew and lived in a world vastly different to the one now. And the universe moved on, ruled by a dictator who cared little for individuals not part of his family. In this world. Hadrian Salazar Riddle fought against him, watching as his father burned the world in his power.
In this one however? Tom Riddle did not go mad. He stood, fully sane and healthy, capable of loving beyond his wildest dreams. The only picture he had framed was that of his family, his wife and his son surrounded by his inner circle. Harry Potter died one faithful night and Hadrian Salazar Riddle took his place, leaving behind a broken home. Tom Riddle died on the 31st of October, his spirit protected and his return promised. Hadrian Salazar Riddle when found, lived a childhood of happiness and childish glee. He fought against the forces of evil and watched, with his father by his side, as the world flourished.