The year that Harry was due to start at Hogwarts as a student was also the year the Minerva was promoted again, this time to the position of Deputy Headmistress.
'You'll have to call me "Professor", like everyone else,' she forewarned. 'I can't be seen to be favouring you. I'll have to call you "Mr Potter" too.'
Harry wrinkled his nose.
They decided together that when Harry started properly at Hogwarts, he would start school openly as Harry Potter. Not in a 'ta-da' kind of way, just in a *shrug* this is who I've always been. As the summer approached, Harry also made the decision that he didn't want to Glamour his scar anymore.
'If they see it, they see it,' he'd mutter. 'They're all going to be staring at it in September anyway,' he shrugged. Though he started to consciously brush his unruly hair forward, as if to hide his scar.
That summer, Minerva also made Harry read the books about himself, just so he understood the change that was going to happen.
'It's all bollocks!' he muttered.
'Language, Harry!' Minerva exclaimed, quite shocked. 'You need to stop hanging around those Weasley twins, they're a bad influence. What's... rubbish?'
'This stuff they've written about me. None of them actually know.'
'That's why I'm making you read it, so you understand what you're about to face. And you'll get more of this when it becomes public knowledge who you are. Everyone will have an opinion about you based on suppositions like this. It was the best thing to hide you in plain sight. Those that know you, those that matter, know you for who you are from you and not from this fiction.'
'Everyone except Snape,' he muttered.
'Professor Snape,' she corrected.
'I don't want to be famous,' he would grumble over dinner. 'I want to stay as just Harry.'
He'd got his round glasses now and he would push them up his nose with his index finger and then run his hand through his messy hair just as James had done. It made Minerva smile. She had never tried to tame his wild raven locks; he wouldn't have been his father's son if she had.
'You'll be just Harry to most of us, that's who we know you as.'
As July came to an end, Minerva was becoming more and more involved in the preparation for the new academic year and as Hagrid was running some errand for Dumbledore in London, it was arranged that he should collect Harry from his annual trip at Little Whinging and take him to Diagon Alley for his school things. It would be the first time Harry would be allowed to access his parent's vault at Gringotts Bank too.
Harry was tremendously excited. It was also to be his first trip to London. Minerva avoided the place at all costs, not least because she didn't like the smelly choked din of town and the way it reminded her of her early days in the DMLE and of Elphin, but also because the risks of Harry being recognised rose exponentially in the city.
Minerva Apparated them both to Privet Drive and for the first time in nine and half years, she felt an awful lump in her throat and horrible nerves in the pit of her stomach because she was leaving him there and not staying.
Petunia withered slightly under the glare of the older woman and reluctantly took in her nephew. Dudley just stared at his cousin with his mouth hanging open; Harry was still scrawny and not particularly tall; Dudley could have taken him out by just puffing in his face but everyone was scared of him and even more scared of the Witch that accompanied him every year.
The stay was uneventful for all three, they mainly sat in awkward silence as there was not an ounce of commonality between them. Eventually, Harry took himself off to bed, to his room. He had gone to kiss Petunia goodnight first and she'd recoiled, unused to such behaviour, though she relented and stuck her head forward, twisting her head away from him on her long neck so he could give her a peck on the cheek. It felt odd for a boy who was used to the affection he and Minnie showed each other.
The highlight of the stay was the arrival of an owl the following morning, it carried his official Hogwarts' letter and the list of equipment that he would need for the year. His small bag was packed and his coat was on half-an-hour before Hagrid was due to arrive. He was beyond excited.
'Happy birthday, 'Arry,' boomed Hagrid when he arrived. 'This is it! Today, officially, yer a wizard!'
Petunia Dursley winced, hoping her neighbours weren't listening in.
'Right! First stop fer us is Gringotts Wizarding Bank, safest place in the world - 'cept maybe Hogwarts. Got everythin'? Come on, then.'
They took the train, Harry cautiously leading the way until they got into central London. From there, Hagrid seemed to know where he was going.
''ere we are,' said Hagrid, coming to a halt, 'the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place. Ready?'
'Ready,' Harry sighed as Hagrid patted him forcefully on the back. 'No going back now...' and he pushed his hair back off his forehead.
The dark and shabby pub was to be Harry's first official outing as 'Harry Potter' and as soon as he stepped out from behind Hagrid's vast body the barman immediately exclaimed 'Bless my soul, Harry Potter... what an honour.'
It was overwhelming, there was a great scrapping of chairs as people rushed forward to shake his hand and introduce themselves, including the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher that Minnie had told him about but he was yet to meet. Professor Quirrell stuttered and trembled a lot as he introduced himself and generally looked terrified of life.
'Blimey!' Harry muttered as they left the pub into a dingy back garden. 'I know she said I was famous but...' He decided he was better off sweeping his hair forward again, he didn't want that every two steps.
Hagrid laughed loudly and started counting bricks in the wall above the dustbin. 'Welcome to Diagon Alley,' he said as the brick wiggled and a small hole appeared and grew until, a second later, they were facing an archway onto a cobbled street which twisted and turned out of sight. If Harry thought Hogsmeade was wonderful; this was truly magical.
He was agog at the different shops; the colourful people; the huge bank; at the goblins; at the twisting and turning ride they hurtled down to a vault that was full of gold and apparently all his; at the strange high-security vault numbered 713 that Hagrid visited which was dark and empty apart from the small grubby package wrapped in brown paper which Hagrid slipped discreetly into his deep pocket.
Harry's next stop was Madame Malkin's for his uniform and Hagrid slipped away as Harry pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Madame Malkin was a squat, smiling Witch dressed all in mauve.
'Hogwarts, dear?' she said, when Harry started to speak. 'Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.'
In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second Witch pinned up his long black robes. Madame Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length.
'Hullo,' said the boy, his hair was impossibly platinum-blond. 'Hogwarts too?'
'Yes,' said Harry, intrigued because the boy was so supremely confident.
'My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands,' said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. 'Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow.'
Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley. He also thought he might let slip into a conversation with Minnie what the boy had said, there couldn't be too many platinum-blond boys starting at Hogwarts in September.
'Have you got your own broom?' the boy went on.
'Just a restricted one,' said Harry casually.
'Play Quidditch at all?'
'No,' said Harry. It was something he was really looking forward to next year.
'I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?'
'No,' Harry said, trying not to sneer at the boy's stupidity. 'No one knows until they get Sorted, do they?'
'I know I'll be in Slytherin; all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?'
Harry bit back his retort, thinking of the friends he'd already made in Hufflepuff, he was already looking forward to seeing Cedric again, they'd become sort of friends despite the three years' age gap.
'I say, look at that man!' said the boy suddenly, nodding towards the front window where Hagrid was standing with two large icecreams.
'That's Hagrid,' said Harry. 'He works at Hogwarts.'
'Oh,' said the boy. 'I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?'
'He's the gamekeeper,' said Harry, liking the boy less and less each second.
'Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage - lives in a hut on the school grounds, can't do magic very well and keeps setting fire to the school.'
'Actually, he's brilliant,' said Harry coldly.
'Really?' said the boy with a slight sneer. 'Is he with you? Where are your parents?'
'They're dead,' said Harry shortly.
'Oh,' said the other. 'They were our kind, weren't they?'
Harry could feel his temper rising. 'They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean.'
'I don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They should just keep it in the old families. What's your surname anyway?'
Thankfully, before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, 'that's you done, my dear.' And Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped off the stool and left without a backwards glance.
Later that night, when he'd got home with all his books and his new wand and the Snowy Owl, which he'd called Hedwig from a name he'd read in A History of Magic, he was surprisingly quiet.
'What's wrong, Harry?' asked Minerva, worried, expecting him to be excitedly showing her everything.
'I met a boy, when I was getting my uniform. He was talking about not letting Muggle families into Hogwarts and was being nasty about Hufflepuffs. He was horrid about Hagrid too. Said he was going to be in Slytherin,' Harry said darkly.
'I'm afraid that there are some witches and wizards who are like that Harry.'
'Why, though, mum? Why can't they just accept everyone as the same? I thought I didn't care which House I got sorted into but I don't want to be a Slytherin if I'm expected to be like that and to be friends with someone like him!' he exclaimed.
'Don't let him upset you, Harry. You can't expect to get on with everyone you meet. And even if you are in Slytherin, it doesn't mean you have to be the same.'
They sat in silence for a while before Harry suddenly said, 'he's going to try and sneak a racing broom into the school...'
'Harry,' Minerva said sternly. 'I expect better of you than to come running to me, snitching on your contemporaries.' Though she made a mental note that all the new first years' luggage should be searched.
It was arranged that Harry would take the Hogwarts Express to school, even though he was on the doorstep. Mostly because Minerva didn't want Harry to miss out on the experience and the opportunity of making new friends. Having heard, over the many years, students talking about taking the train and then the boat trip across the lake before the Sorting, Harry was excited too. Hagrid agreed to take Harry because Minerva had to lock up their little cottage for the term and then be at the school.
Harry woke at five o'clock the morning he was due to catch the train. It was far too early but he was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans and a plain t-shirt and his favourite trainers. He knew Minnie would be a bit disapproving but they were his favourite clothes and he wanted to be comfortable. He double-checked his Hogwarts list again, saw to it that Hedwig was safely shut in her cage and paced his room until it was time for breakfast.
'Ready, darling?' said Minerva as she watched the clearly nervous Harry toy with his breakfast.
'What if I don't meet anyone, or make any new friends?'
'You'll be fine.'
'Perhaps I'll meet my soulmate...' he said, his eyes gleaming curiously.
'You don't need to think about that, there's plenty of time for those sorts of things. Have you got your train ticket?'
He checked his pocket and pulled out the gold embossed ticket. Platform nine and three quarters at eleven o'clock, it read. He hadn't noticed that before and was about to ask when there was a knock on the door. It was Hagrid.
He gave Minnie a tight hug, gathered up his bag and Hedwig's cage as Hagrid carried his trunk and they set off.
Hagrid, being Hagrid, just sort of dumped Harry at the entrance to King's Cross Station because he needed to get back quickly. 'See yer at Hogsmeade Station, 'Arry,' he said with a grin and disappeared off leaving Harry with a heavy and awkwardly loaded trolley that was garnering a few odd looks.
Still, he straightened his back and pushed his way towards Platform nine - and Platform ten. And stopped in horror. Hagrid must have forgotten to tell him something he had to do. Maybe he had to tap some bricks or something.
At that moment a group of people passed just behind him and he caught a few words of what they were saying.
'-packed with Muggles, of course-'
Harry swung around. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with distinctly recognisable flaming red hair.
'Fred! George!' Harry exclaimed, overjoyed to see someone he recognised.
'HARRY!' the boys said in unison.
'Fancy seeing you here!' said Fred, putting his arm around Harry and pulling him into a bear-hug.
Harry watched the oldest boy, Percy, march towards the wall marked platforms nine and ten and vanish through the wall.
'Fred, you next,' the plump woman said.
'I'm not Fred, I'm George,' said the boy. 'Honestly, woman, call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?'
'Sorry, George, dear.'
'Only joking, I am Fred,' and Fred winked at Harry before taking a hop and a run at the wall and disappearing through it, only to be followed quickly behind by George.
'Hello, dear,' the plump woman said, turning towards Harry. 'Is this your first time?' And when Harry swallowed slightly nervously, she said, 'not to worry, dear, just walk straight between the barriers, don't stop and don't be scared. Try it at a bit of run, just like the twins. Go on, go now before Ron.'
He closed his eyes just as he thought he was going to impact with the wall and when he opened them, it was to be greeted by the sight of a great big scarlet steam engine waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, 11 o'clock.
Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted at each other in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and scraping of heavy trunks.
'Want a hand, Harry?' said George and with the twins' help, Harry's trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of an empty compartment he'd found near the rear of the train.
'Thanks,' said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.
'What's that?' said George suddenly, pointing at Harry's lightning scar.
'Blimey,' said Fred. 'You're... how come we've never noticed? Two years and you're...'
'He is,' said George. 'Aren't you?' he added to Harry.
'What?' said Harry sheepishly.
'Harry Potter,' they chorused.
'Oh, him,' said Harry. 'Yeah...' he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.
'Don't worry,' grinned Fred. 'Your secret is safe with us!' and they charged off, muttering about Harry Potter hiding right under their bloody noses!
A whistle sounded and the train began to move. The door of the compartment slid open and the youngest red-headed boy came in.
'Anyone sitting there?' he asked, pointing at the seat opposite Harry. 'Everywhere else is full.'
Harry shook his head and the boy sat down, plonking an old and moth-eaten rat on the seat beside him who promptly stared briefly at Harry before curling up and going to sleep.
'I'm Ron,' he said nervously. And then he blurted out, 'are you really Harry Potter?'
Harry nodded and pulled back his fringe to show the lightning scar. Ron stared.
'So that's where You-Know-Who-?'
'Yeh,' said Harry, 'but I can't remember it.'
'Nothing?' said Ron eagerly.
'Well, some green light, but nothing else.'
'Wow!' said Ron.
After a moment of staring awkwardly out of the window, Ron said, 'I heard you went to live with Muggles.'
'Yeh, I did, but they weren't very nice so I went to live with Minn-Minerva McGonagall. She teaches Transfiguration at Hogwarts. I've kind of been living at Hogwarts a lot too.'
'How come no one said anything? I mean, five brothers at Hogwarts, you'd think one of them...'
'Kind of been keeping it quiet, we hid my scar and just never said,' Harry explained. 'I've met all your brothers, Bill and Charlie too. Haven't talked much with Percy.'
Harry and Ron talked about everything, about Ron's brothers and Harry's Muggle relatives. About Ron's pet rat, Scabbers, and Hagrid and Hedwig. And when the Trolley Witch came past, Harry brought one of everything to share with his new friend. It was nice to meet someone his own age straightaway. Reassuring too after the boy he'd meet in the uniform shop. They met someone called Neville, who'd lost his frog, and a girl who seemed to know everything. She had a lot of very bushy brown hair and large pretty brown eyes. She introduced herself as Hermione Granger and explained rather rapidly that she was a Muggleborn. She had, of course, heard of Harry, read about him in a few books.
She left Harry feeling rather dazed. It was suddenly sinking in what his name meant and he wasn't sure he liked it.
'Do you think we'll meet our soulmates at Hogwarts? Not everyone does, you know. We might have to wait until we're older.' said Ron eagerly. 'I hope mine's not a boy.'
Harry frowned, 'I don't think that matters so long as you're in love and treat each other well.'
'Well, yes, I don't mean...' Ron stuttered. 'Charlie told mum and dad this summer that he's gay,' he confided in a low whisper. 'I don't mind that; it's just I think girls are prettier than boys. I just think I'd prefer to kiss girls.' Ron blushed profusely.
'Oh, okay. I haven't really thought about it,' said Harry. And he thought that perhaps he didn't mind so long as they made him feel good and weren't mean to him or other people. But he also wondered if he should talk to people about that.
They fell silent for a while and didn't discuss soulmates any further.
When the door of the compartment slid open again and three boys entered, Harry recognised the middle one at once. The pointy pale boy from Madame Malkin's robe shop. He was looking at Harry with far more interest this time. Harry stared back, noticing the boy's unusual cold-grey eyes.
'Is it true?' the boy said. 'They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So, it's you, is it?'
'Yes,' said Harry. His guard immediately up. He glanced at the other two boys, they looked thickset and mean and like the pale boy's bodyguards.
'Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle,' said the pale boy carelessly, noticing where Harry was looking. 'And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.'
Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.
'Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasley's have red hair, freckles and more children than they can afford.' He turned back to Harry. 'You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.'
He held out his hand to shake Harry's but Harry didn't take it. He had thought this boy was mean when they'd met at Madame Malkin's and his sneering words only confirmed his feelings.
Draco noticed the raven-haired boy had raised an eyebrow querulously. This wasn't going quite to plan; he was trying to make a good impression on the famous boy he felt drawn to after what was obviously a failure in the uniform shop.
'I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,' Harry Potter said coolly.
Draco felt a pink tinge appear in his pale cheeks and a sort of rejection he'd never felt in his life before. His name; his manners, so carefully copied from his father; his money; and his family's associations with the Dark Side meant people usually scrabbled over their feet to befriend a Malfoy. He wasn't sure what to do beyond hit back. 'I'd be careful if I were you, Pottah,' he said, fury erupting in the pit of his stomach. 'Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riff-raff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid and it'll rub off on you.'
Both Harry and Ron stood up. Ron's face was as red as his hair.
'Say that again,' Harry said.
'Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?' Draco sneered, trying to quash the anxiety that he'd have to be bigger than his words. He seriously hoped Vince and Greg behaved like the trolls they looked like.
'Unless you get out now,' said Harry, more bravely that he felt.
Goyle was just reaching for one of Harry's chocolate frogs when he let out a screech. Scabbers, Ron's pet rat was hanging off his finger, sharp little teeth sunk into his skin. When Scabbers finally let go, the three boys scarpered.
The incident left Harry feeling more unsettled than he would have liked. He didn't understand how this boy could suddenly step into his life and disrupt it so completely. Ron was telling him about the Malfoys and their rumoured connections with the Dark Side but Harry only half-listened as he thought about strange grey eyes and drawling snide words.
At last, the train pulled into Hogsmeade Station and Harry began to feel steadier, he was back on familiar territory, he was nearly home.
***