*Author's Notes* Apologies for the exposition filled chapter, but as with all year one Harry Potter stories, some slow chapters are a necessity. I'll try and keep them to a minimum. I'm much happier with this chapter than I am the prologue. I'm not sleep deprived this time and I feel there are less glaring mistakes and clunky writing.

The next chapter should be a more exciting one, it'll certainly be more fun.

Chapter One

4 Privet Drive is a wholly unremarkable house, sat amongst identical neighbours in a quaint cul-de-sac in the little known town called Little Whinging. It's front garden is a typical middle-class garden, with a manicured lawn and a paved driveway. It is for all intents and purposes completely ordinary, even it's residents are particularly mundane; well, almost all of them.

For inside this ordinary house, with mundane residents located in a nondescript cul-de-sac in a rather uninteresting town is one extraordinary boy. Although he is completely unaware of the fact he is extraordinary. Well you would if you lived in a tiny cupboard underneath a set of stairs and spent your life acting as a servant for what is supposed to be your family.

Harry Potter is the Boy-Who-Lived, the most famous wizard alive who before he could walk was vanquishing a Dark Lord so powerful few in the annals of history can compare. Of course Harry, the be-speckled eleven year old with a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead and unruly black hair, has no idea.

Sat quietly on his bed, Harry was unhappy, it was a common feeling for him, his Uncle Vernon and Auntie Petunia had treated him badly since the moment they took him in. Whilst other children were out playing with toys, or down the park, Harry was in the kitchen cooking or in the bathroom cleaning. The moment he could walk he was given a duster and put to work, he'd think this was normal if it was not for his cousin Dudley.

The fat obnoxious boy is a polar-opposite to Harry, rude, selfish and a bully he is the pride and joy of his parents Vernon and Petunia. They bend over backwards trying to please him and Dudley in the way only spoilt brats can, was upset at every attempt. It was never enough for him, no matter how many presents, trips out or special dinners, he was always wanting more and his parents duly obliged.

This infuriated Harry, whilst he worked his fingers to the bone trying to meet the ridiculous standards of his adoptive parents, Dudley was given everything and took even more. He also took great joy in insulting and hurting Harry. If Harry had finished cleaning, Dudley would walk in and cause a mess, just to see Harry get punished. Dudley did this so regularly that Harry could set his watch by him; if he had a watch.

This morning Dudley had been particularly cruel. For today was a rare occurrence, Harry had received a letter, Harry had only received a letter once before and that was because his nursery school were pleased with his progress and had written the Dursley's a letter telling them about all the good things he was doing. They weren't pleased about it, he'd immediately been removed from the nursery and 'home-schooled' instead.

So Harry had tried to hide the letter so that he wasn't cruelly punished for it, of course Dudley being the omnipotent overlord of pain in Privet Drive had spotted Harry's subterfuge and immediately began screaming for his parents. It didn't take long for Vernon to forcibly remove the letter from Harry's grasp, and without a moment's hesitation destroyed it in the living room fire. He then walked Harry to his cupboard, pushed him in and locked the door, the last Harry heard was Vernon walking off proclaiming, “We're too kind to him Petunia, far too kind, he should be locked up for his own good... Yes, his own good.”

So now he was quietly planning his revenge on his bed, which of course he'd never carry out because let's be honest, an eleven year old boy would never get away with what Harry was planning. Though he was willing to spend his life in prison if it meant Dudley the Dunce turned into a whimpering wreck, and his sadistic parents locked into padded cells. Yes, if he could pull that off he would enjoy prison.

Harry was knocked out of his reveries by a tremendously loud knocking from the front-door, it was so loud Harry was wondering if someone had decided to use a battering ram to knock on the door.

“QUIT THE BANGING, I'M COMING! CHRIST! DOES NO-ONE USE THE BELL THESE DAYS?” roared Vernon from the vicinity of the kitchen.

The knocking ceased as Vernon reached the front-door. “DID YOU HAVE TO KNOCK SO LOU...” Vernon went white as he opened the door and saw the culprit responsible for knocking so loud you could hear it in Greater Whinging. It was a giant man with a huge bushy beard and long frazzled grey hair, wearing a large grin that sent a shiver down Vernon's spine.

Stood next to him was a thin stern looking elderly woman in dark robes, wearing a conical hat.  She was looking disapprovingly at the giant man and whilst her head was barely above his waist, he still shied away from the glare.

“Hullo.” said the giant man, “'ere for 'arry.”

Vernon stepped back nervously and tried to rub away of what clearly was an hallucination.

“Well, where is he?” the giant asked.

It took a moment before Vernon could shake away the shock of it all and regain his typically displeasing demeanour. “What's the meaning of this!? Are you trying to humiliate me?”

“Eh?” said the giant thoroughly confused.

“If the council finds out I've been visited by a circus freak and his handler, I'll be a laughing stock, so good day!” Vernon slammed the door and turned away thinking the matter closed. Only instead of the satisfying sound of the door slamming shut, he heard a dull thump. He turned his head and the giant was now stood in the doorway holding the door in his hands.

“Mr. Dursley.” Said the old woman, “ would you please let Harry Potter know that Rubeus Hagrid and Professor Minerva McGonagall are here to see him.”

“No. You're not seeing him, not now, not ever.” Vernon said his face now a very deep shade of vermilion.

“On the contrary Mr. Dursley, you were notified of his lineage and we are well within our rights to speak to Mr. Potter, it is his decision after all.”

“Ha! He'll never go to that god forsaken school, I've already destroyed the letter you sent him and will make sure that cretin Dumbledore never gets his hands on him.”

Vernon smirked at McGonagall and then froze as Hagrid in a fit of rage destroyed the front door in a shower of splinters by closing his hand.

“HOW DARE YEH CALL ALBUS DUMBLEDORE A CRETIN!!” shouted Rubeus, his right hand launched at Vernon and stopped suddenly if held in an invisible vice.

“Calm down Rubeus, there's no need to get violent.” said Minerva in a motherly voice, which quickly defused Hagrid's rage.

“Mr. Dursley, I highly recommend you invite us 'in' or I might not be so quick to hold off Mr. Hagrid here.” The thinly veiled threat had done the trick, Vernon reluctantly stepped to the side and allowed Hagrid and McGonagall to pass. They followed his directions to the lounge and sat themselves down. McGonagall picked the armchair opposite the TV and Hagrid took the sofa, his size making everything else poor options.

“Wait here, I'll get the boy,” said Vernon bitterly.

Vernon swiftly left the lounge and took a few steps down the hallway until he was outside of Harry's 'room'. He banged loudly once. “Boy! Get your lazy arse up and into the lounge!”
Harry being an eleven year old boy had been trying to eavesdrop from the moment he heard the front-door open. Whilst listening through the ventilation grate in his door wasn't the best of methods for eavesdropping it was adequate enough for Harry to know that this was going to be an interesting and potentially exciting day.

“I'll be right out,” he said excitedly, as he tried to make himself look presentable for the surprise guests. Of course his hair being the unruly beast it is, had no intention of being any less of a mess as he brushed it, but it's the thought that counts.

His Uncle unlocked his door and went back into the lounge, melodramatically huffing and puffing with every step. It was to Harry a classic example of his Uncle adhering to the protocols of house-guest etiquette whilst still showing that it does not sit well with him. He had no doubt that when all this was finished, his Uncle would begin a lengthy tirade on the cheek of his guests and the humiliation he suffered. A tirade Harry would be forced to listen to in silence, else he spend the next week cleaning the toilets with a toothbrush.

Harry stepped into the lounge and couldn't believe what he saw, he was expecting the man to be big, but he had no idea he'd be this big. Even whilst sat Rubeus Hagrid still towered over everyone in the room and he was so wide, that he barely fit the Dursley's sofa. Harry had to stifle a laugh at how ridiculously big he was, and the ridiculousness of it all was further exacerbated by the stick thin old woman sat with him. Wearing robes Harry was certain were out of date in the 18th century.

“Hullo 'arry,” said Hagrid grinning from ear to ear.

Harry could only muster a half-hearted wave and a smile which was more a grimace.

“Come closer 'arry, let's see how yeh grown.”

Harry stepped forward tentatively, his hands fidgeting as he looked everywhere but at the giant who was now back on his feet and stood before Harry.

“Yeh grown up good, ain't ya? I remember when yeh were small enough t' fit in me hand, use to make Lily all nervous y'know...”

“Oh Rubeus, you're scaring the boy. Now Mr. Potter please take a seat, we have a lot to discuss.” Minerva pointed to the one free seat and Harry swiftly clamoured into a seated position. Hagrid shook his head jovially and sat back down, the sofa groaning under his weight.
“Mr. Dursley perhaps some refreshments would be in order,” said McGonagall her eyes focused on the fat man stood in the archway that leads to the kitchen. Vernon tried to meet her gaze but failed miserably, instead he resorted to puffing his chest out in a vain attempt to show he was still a dominant male. McGonagall raised a single eyebrow in reply and Vernon's blustered collapsed.

“Fine, I'll get some drinks, my wife would oblige but she's still out food-shopping, she'd be back by now if it wasn't for that brat and your god forsaken letter.” Vernon stormed off into the kitchen, paused in the centre of the kitchen then began mumbling obscenities as he looked around confused at what exactly went into making refreshments.

“Right, with Mr. Dursley otherwise engaged, let us get started,” McGonagall said as she turned her gaze back to Harry.

“Mr. Potter, you have been invited to enroll at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

Harry's jaw just dropped, “Uh... Um... You... What?”

“Yeh a Wizard 'arry.” Said Hagrid.

“Don't you be telling that boy any lies now, everyone knows magic doesn't exist,” shouted Vernon from the kitchen.

“Yeh shut yeh muggle mouth, or I'll come in there and shut it for yeh!” Retorted Hagrid at a volume loud enough to vibrate the windows. Vernon shut his mouth swiftly and disappeared from sight.

“Yeh run away like a good muggle.”

“Muggle?” asked Harry who was utterly confused.

“Non-magical being,” replied Hagrid.

“Oh. Right.”

“Now Mr. Potter, I'm aware this will be a shock, but have you ever felt like you do not belong? As if strange and impossible things only happen to you?” said McGonagall.

Harry understood, there had been a few incidents in his life where impossible things had happened to him. One particular event was when he was seven; his Aunt had got angry at him one night and in a fit of rage cut all his hair off with a pair of kitchen scissors. The next morning Harry had expected to see short patches of hair and instead, his wild, unruly locks were back and seemingly longer than before the impromptu shearing.

Harry had just thought the whole haircut was a nightmare he'd had whilst he was asleep but being told he was a Wizard had cast a whole new light on the event.

But being told he was a Wizard wasn't enough, he may be eleven and he may be taken to moments of whimsy but he was still a sensible young boy, he'd need more than words, he'd need cold, hard, proof. Preferably proof that humiliates his family.

“I need proof,” said Harry firmly, his face moulded into a mask of determination to show how serious a request this was.

Professor McGonagall nodded her head in acquiescence and pulled out a nine and a half inch finely carved stick. She pointed it at the coffee table and Harry's jaw dropped as the table levitated in the air as she gently swept the stick upwards.

“Wow! A stick can do that?”  said Harry astounded.

“Don't be silly Mr. Potter, this is not a 'stick', it is a wand.” replied McGonagall without a hint of humour.

“Oh right, still even 'muggle' magicians can make stuff float and fly about, I need to see more.”

“Very well Mr. Potter.” Professor McGonagall stood up, took one step forward then began to change in front of Harry's astounded eyes; what was once a rake-thin stern looking elderly woman in tartan clad robes was now a grey tabby cat. If Harry wasn't already sat he would've collapsed to the floor from shock. To say Harry was speechless would be an understatement, he was barely able think coherently let alone speak. All he could think about was how if he repeated what he had just seen he would spend his whole life in a loony bin.

“D'ya believe us now 'arry?” Hagrid asked.

Harry gulped and then nodded very quickly, it was hard to not believe them having witnessed someone morph into a cat. Coupled with a giant being sat on a sofa as if it's an armchair, unless this was all a weird dream he very much believed.

Harry was jolted out of his shock by his Uncle who was noisily handing out refreshments, those being 3 glasses of water and a plate of stale rich tea biscuits. Though considering Vernon's propensity for bland and tasteless food, this was not a surprising selection. McGonagall declined the biscuits, whilst Hagrid was all too happy to accept, his handful of biscuits disappearing in a blink of the eye.

With the refreshments consumed, Hagrid turned to Vernon. “So, why was 'arry not told 'bout his being a wizard?”

Vernon sputtered for a moment before finally replying. “Why would I tell that good for nothing boy something so ridiculous? There's no talk of magic in this house and I'd thank you to keep quiet about how I run my household or...”

“Or what!?”

“Or I'll have the boy locked up where no amount of 'magic' could help him.”

Hagrid was silent for a moment and then let out a roaring laugh, the whole house seemed to shake with his laughter. Even the stern-faced Professor McGonagall let loose the smallest sign of amusement, as short-lived as it was.

“You muggles are very funny,” said Hagrid finally over his bout of laughter.

“Mr. Dursley, you'd do well to remember the promise you made to Albus Dumbledore when you took in young Mr. Potter.”

Vernon Dursley groaned, nodded his head in resignation and turned to leave for somewhere other than the disapproving gaze of Professor Minerva McGonagall and the humiliating smile of Rubeus Hagrid. Except they weren't finished with him yet.

“You may have kept him ignorant about magic, but you did tell him about his parents, yes?” said McGonagall.

“Well, about that...” replied Vernon weakly.

“I was told they died in a car-crash,” interjected Harry.

“A car-crash!?” shouted Hagrid.

“Yes, a car-crash, I couldn't tell the boy the truth, or he'd ask more bloody questions and I'd never live it down with my neighbours if he blabbed about it.”

“Get outta my sight, before I decide to use you as a footrest,” said Hagrid sharply, his smile now gone, replaced with an angry scowl.

Vernon didn't hesitate he had left the lounge before Hagrid could finish enunciating footrest. A few moments later Vernon could clearly be heard stomping up the stairs and shouting at Dudley to stop eavesdropping. Harry let slip a small smile, whilst he may be upset at being lied to, he could still enjoy Vernon scampering away like a coward.

“So, um, how did they really die?” asked Harry tentatively, he wanted to know, but he was certain that knowing might not be such a good idea.

“They died protecting you from You-Know-Who,” said Hagrid.

“Who?”

“You-Know-Who.”

“I don't know who that is.” Harry was thoroughly confused.

“Rubeus stop confusing the boy.”

“Right, sorry. You-Know-Who was the Dark Lord... Voldemort.” said Hagrid practically whispering Voldermort.

“They died protecting me? Am I still in danger?” said Harry nervously.

“Yeh in no danger 'arry,” replied Hagrid reassuringly.

“I'm not? So my parents defeated this Voldemort?”

“You-Know-Who, we don't use his name.” said McGonagall. “And no, you're parents did not defeat 'You-Know-Who', you did.”

Harry opened his mouth to reply and then stopped, this didn't make sense. He defeated this Dark Lord? When on earth did it happen? Because he had no memory of such a event, the closest he came to defeating a Dark Lord was confusing Dudley at every opportunity.

“W-w-when?”

“On the night of your parent's death, in the magical world you're known as the Boy-Who-Lived,” answered McGonagall.

“The Boy-Who-Lived? This isn't a joke is it?”

“Of course not Mr. Potter, as ridiculous as it sounds, it's all very real. But I think it best if you save your questions about it all for a later date, we've a schedule to keep and we have more pressing matters to discuss.”

Harry was about to ask a barrel of questions, but stopped himself, he was curious but he didn't want to be silenced magically.

“Mr. Potter, do you want to enroll at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?” asked McGonagall.

“I have a choice?”

“Of course you do, if you feel that being a Wizard is not for you, then we'd respect that and let you live your life with these muggles.” Hagrid had visibly tensed up at this point as Professor McGonagall was now leaned towards Harry.

Harry didn't hesitate at all with his answer, “Yes! Yes! I'll go to Hogwarts, I want to be a Wizard.”

The tension immediately lifted from Hagrid's shoulders, his worried expression now a giant grin. Even McGonagall looked visibly relieved.

“Oh good, well there's no point in delaying matters. If you'd like to follow us Mr. Potter we have places to be, things to do, Rubeus will carry any possessions you'd like to take with you.”

“Will I be coming back?” asked Harry.

“I shouldn't think you;d be returning here until the holidays and that's if you'd like to, Hogwarts is a boarding school Mr. Potter.” answered McGonagall.

“Oh ok, well then no, I've nothing I'd like to take.”

“Very well then, let us be off.” Professor McGonagall stood, motioned for Harry to join her and held out her hand for Harry to hold.

“Come hold my hand Mr. Potter, or you'd be stuck here when I apparate.”

Harry decided not to ask what that meant, he had all the time in the world to ask questions, he was more concerned with leaving Privet Drive. He took hold of Professor McGonagall's hand and looked up at her expecting some mysterious to happen.

“Rubeus you know what to do, we'll be at the Leaky Cauldron.”

Hagrid nodded his head in acknowledgement and then suddenly Professor McGonagall and Harry were gone, winked out of the Dursley's lounge, leaving Hagrid sat there smiling. A few seconds later he too disappeared, an audible pop following his magical exit.

It would be a very long-time before Harry Potter ever returned to 4 Privet Drive.