Yer a wizard Harry...
Harry, yer a wizard,” the giant—whose name turned out to be Hagrid—said, his voice booming through the tiny hut.
A wizard? Harry stared at him, stunned. That explained a lot. It also felt oddly right. Harry Potter, the wizard. He liked the sound of that.
"I believe you," Harry said, trying to wrap his head around everything. "That explains a lot." The pieces were starting to fall into place, but his mind was still struggling to process the magnitude of it all.
"Great! Not many kids believe it right away," Hagrid said, settling back down on the sofa. It creaked loudly under his weight, and the cushions groaned as they sank lower. “So, what kind of things have you done? Y’know, weird things?”
Harry’s mind raced, trying to remember. "Well, I once talked to a snake."
At Hagrid’s shocked expression, Harry added, “Isn’t that something wizards can do?”
Hagrid shook his head. “Uhm, well, Dumbledore’ll talk to yeh later about that,” he said, clearly unsure what to make of it. “But I reckon it’s about time yeh read yer letter.”
Harry’s heart skipped a beat when Hagrid handed him a yellowish envelope, addressed in emerald green to Mr. H. Potter, The Floor, Hut-on-the-Rock, The Sea. His fingers trembled slightly as he opened it, carefully unfolding the parchment inside. He read aloud:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of 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 been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress
Harry stared at the letter, his mind reeling. “So... my parents were wizards too?” The thought had finally sunk in, and it felt like the weight of a thousand questions pressing down on him.
“O’ course they were! And thumpin' good ones, I’d say,” Hagrid grinned, clearly proud of them.
“And you just said I’m famous?” Harry asked, confused. “If I’m so famous, why didn’t anyone come look for me?”
Hagrid’s face grew serious, and there was a sadness in his voice as he spoke. “Yeah, yer parents were famous too. But I’ll tell yeh why later. It’s a bit complicated.”
Harry sat back, overwhelmed, but in his gut, he knew it all made sense now. All those strange things that had happened to him, the stuff he could never explain—suddenly, they fit into place. Hogwarts was a place where he belonged. He couldn’t wait to go there and show the world he could do something special.
The next day, Harry found himself walking through the busy streets of London, Hagrid by his side, as they made their way to the places listed on the Hogwarts supply list. “Hagrid, can we buy all this in London?” Harry asked, looking at the list in his hands.
“If yeh know where to go,” Hagrid replied with a wink, clearly enjoying the mystery.
After a short walk, Hagrid stopped. “This is it, the Leaky Cauldron. It’s a famous place.”
The second they stepped inside, Harry was met with a chorus of greetings. The pub was buzzing with witches and wizards. One of the patrons, a man who stammered and looked rather nervous, introduced himself as Harry’s new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Hagrid mentioned he was always that way, and Harry wondered just what kind of world he was stepping into.
They made their way to Gringotts next, where Harry learned he had a vault filled with more money than he could ever have imagined. It was hard to believe, and Hagrid had to leave for a quick pick-me-up when he wasn’t feeling well, so Harry was left to visit Madam Malkin’s robe shop on his own.
When he walked in, a smiling witch immediately took him to the back of the shop. “Hogwarts, dear?” she asked, her voice friendly.
Harry nodded, and the witch motioned toward a pale boy with almost white-blond hair, who was standing on a footstool while a witch pinned up his robes. Madam Malkin placed Harry on the stool next to him.
“Hello,” the boy said, his tone cool and detached. “Hogwarts too?”
“Yes,” Harry replied, feeling awkward. “I’m Harry Potter. And you?”
“My name’s Draco. Draco Malfoy. I’m pureblood.” He said it like it was a badge of honor.
“Pureblood?” Harry asked, completely confused. “What does that mean?”
Draco looked him up and down with disdain. “Ah, so you’re Potter,” he said, voice dripping with distaste. "The Boy Who Defeated the Dark Lord." He pronounced “Potter” as though it were an insult. "And I'm a pureblood wizard—no Muggle blood in me. Your mum was a Muggle-born, wasn’t she?"
Harry blinked. He hadn’t expected to hear about his mother from someone he’d just met. “Yes, but I don’t see why that matters,” Harry said, surprised by the tone of the conversation.
Draco smirked. “Well, Potter, I doubt you’ll ever understand. Anyway, my parents are buying me everything I need. Then I’m going to bully my father into getting me a broom. They’re not allowed for first-years, but I’ll find a way to smuggle one in. Do you play Quidditch?”
Harry stared at him, completely bewildered. What in the world was Quidditch?
“I do,” Draco said proudly. “My father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house. And I have to agree with him. Do you know which house you’ll be in?”
“No,” Harry said, still unsure what he was talking about.
Draco shrugged. “Well, no one really knows for sure, but I’ll be in Slytherin. All our family’s been in Slytherin. Can you imagine being in Gryffindor? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”
“Is Slytherin better?” Harry asked, genuinely curious.
“Oh, definitely,” Draco replied. “All the great wizards come from Slytherin. Better be Slytherin, I’d say.”
Harry’s curiosity got the better of him. “Well, then I want to be in Slytherin.”
Draco smiled smugly. “Great. See you at Hogwarts, Pottah.” With a parting glance, he walked away.
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The rest of the day passed in a blur of new experiences. Harry picked up the rest of his supplies, including a beautiful snowy owl from Hagrid, which he named Hedwig. He also got a wand, and Hagrid explained that it was the same type as Voldemort’s—something that made Harry feel uneasy.
Back at the Leaky Cauldron, Hagrid sat Harry down with a serious look on his face. “I’ll tell yeh why you’re famous,” he said quietly. “It’s because, when yeh were a baby, yeh defeated the Dark Lord. Everyone says it’s 'cause you’re special, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.” Hagrid paused, looking uncomfortable. “Yer mum set up a protection spell using Runes. When she sacrificed herself, the curse reflected and destroyed Voldemort.”
Harry’s mind was racing as the pieces started to come together. “Wow...” he breathed.
They talked for a while longer, and Hagrid handed Harry his ticket for the Hogwarts Express. Harry’s heart pounded with excitement. He couldn’t wait for September 1st. Hogwarts was closer than ever, and he knew, for the first time, that his life was about to change forever.