Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter and would never dream of making any money off it. It all belongs solely to J.K. Rowling.

Chapter One – Welcome to the Wizarding World!

By Shadow of the Blue Moon

The 24th of July, 1991, was a sunny day. To most people who lived in Britain, that should have been a relatively good day, even if it wasn't a brilliant one – it was a sunny day, it was a Friday (just one day left until the weekend!) and it was summer. For the raven-haired, green-eyed boy known as Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, to the wizarding world – even if his real name was Harrison Potter – it was a week until his eleventh birthday, as well as the day his life changed forever, for the better and the worse.

At seven a.m. on that auspicious day, Harry Potter was standing behind the kitchen sink of a two-storey Muggle house, cleaning the pans used to cook breakfast. That house in Little Whinging, 4 Privet Drive, was the house in which he had resided in ever since the night he lost his parents, Halloween of 1981. He lived there with his Aunt Petunia (his mother's sister), her husband Vernon, and their son Dudley Dursley. That meant he had been living there for almost ten years, although it definitely wasn't a home for him.

While Harry was busy cleaning the used kitchen utensils, his so-called family were gorging themselves or picking at their food. Uncle Vernon and Dudley were both stuffing their faces with food while Aunt Petunia was picking at her food, nowhere near finished even though she only had a slice of toast and a scrambled egg on her plate. Harry eyed their plates of food, trying to figure out if there would be enough leftovers for him to eat breakfast. If there wasn't, he'd have to wait until lunch.

Just then, they heard the click of the mailbox and the flop of letters on the doormat, meaning the post had arrived. "Get the mail, boy," Uncle Vernon snapped at Harry, seeing as his son hadn't finished breakfast yet and neither had he, as usual. Although he had cooked it, Harry wasn't allowed to eat with them, meaning that he had to fetch the mail every morning, save for the occasional days when Vernon, Petunia or Dudley was expecting something important and went to get the mail.

Without a word, Harry set down the pan he had been cleaning and the cloth he was using, washed his hands and went to fetch the mail. As usual, there was a stack of mail, which he picked up and began to sort through. Today, there were only three things, less than there usually were: a postcard from Uncle Vernon's sister, 'Aunt' Marge, who was currently on holiday on the Isle of Wight, a brown envelope that looked like the electricity bill, and a letter for him.

Harry's eyes grew wide as he took in his letter. His first letter, actually. Putting the rest of the mail down on the doorstep, he held his letter closer to his face and inspected it closely. The envelope, and he suspected the letter as well, wasn't made of paper. There was a wax seal on the back, with the crest of a place called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. And the strange thing was, it had his address – down to the 'Cupboard Under the Stairs' – written in green ink on the front.

"Boy! What are you doing with the mail?" Uncle Vernon called from the dining room. "We told you to get it, not read everything!"

Harry stared at his letter for a few more seconds, before quickly tucking it away in a pocket of his pants lest the Dursleys find out about the letter and try to take it from him (he wouldn't put it past them). He picked up the rest of the mail, and, returning to the dining room, handed the pile to Uncle Vernon. He then returned to what he had been doing before he left, knowing that the faster he finished his chores for the morning, the faster he could return to his cupboard to read the letter.

Later that morning, after all his chores for the morning had been finished, Harry returned to his cupboard to read his letter. It was a letter from the Deputy Headmistress of a school called 'Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry', a woman named Minerva McGongall, who was inviting him to the aforementioned school. Enclosed was a booklist, with things like a wand, several spellbooks, robes and a cauldron. Was it possible that magic existed?

Seeing the word 'Magic' triggered a bombardment of memories: a bookstore, filled with books from ceiling to floor, packed with people. A apothecary, which sold things like 'unicorn horns' and 'hemlock' instead of usual things. A pet shop, which sold owls and toads. A shop display of broomsticks, all known as 'Cleansweeps'. A small pub known as the 'Leaky Cauldron', which was packed full of people in robes. A white bank, Gringotts, which was run by little creatures known as 'goblins'.

The Leaky Cauldron. Somehow, that seemed important, even if he had no idea why. Upon delving through his 'Strange' section of his memories – his memories were organised and in sections, which he needed because of his near-perfect memory – he found that it was the gateway between London and wizarding Britain's shopping area, an alley called Diagon Alley that would sell everything he needed for school. All one had to do was get to the pub, enter it from the London side and exit through the magical side.

After he had finished going through his memories, he looked through his travelling memories – which were admittedly few in number, as he had rarely been taken somewhere, and even then, the Dursleys had never taken him to London – and found a possible route to London. Once he arrived there, he could easily walk to the Leaky Cauldron – which was located on Charing Cross Road – and get to Diagon Alley that way. Now, all he had to do was convince Aunt Petunia to let him go for one day.

But did he really want to come back to 4 Privet Drive and the Dursleys? If he had to be honest, the answer was a resounding no. Even though his aunt and uncle had – albeit grudgingly – given him a roof over his head and some food to eat, this wasn't a home. While they weren't as extreme as to physically hurt him themselves, they had made him their slave, as well as turning a blind eye to Dudley's 'Harry Hunting', a game which involved catching Harry and hitting him repeatedly.

So if the answer was a 'No', he had to find a new place to live. Preferably somewhere in the wizarding world, he supposed, as the police would ask too many questions about why he was trying to find a new home if he left for another place in the non-magical world. Real estate would probably be quite pricey, though, so he'd probably see if he could find somewhere cheap to stay for a month or so until he could go to Hogwarts. But to do that, he needed money first, and he could only get that at Gringotts.

Finally, after a while of thinking, a solution eventually presented itself to Harry. Tomorrow, he'd go to Gringotts to see if his parents or any relatives had left him any money. If there wasn't any money for him and nobody would take him in, he'd contact this Deputy Headmistress about his lack of money or school supplies and return to the Dursleys. If there was some money – a little would be enough – he'd leave the Dursleys and stay in the wizarding world.

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The next day, a Saturday, dawned bright and sunny, putting everyone in the Dursley household in a good mood. By nine o'clock, Uncle Vernon had gone to London for a business meeting, Dudley had gone to meet up with his gang at the park and Harry had completed his morning chores. As a result, Aunt Petunia was in a good mood, so Harry decided to take his chances and ask now if he could go out for the day. Surprisingly, Aunt Petunia agreed and let him go.

Soon, after a journey on the Underground train, he arrived at Charing Cross Road, which was lined with modern-looking shops and buildings. He certainly couldn't spot any kind of pub anywhere, but eventually he noticed a small, grubby-looking pub with the sign 'The Leaky Cauldron' tucked between a large bookstore and a record shop, which people didn't seem to notice. In fact, their eyes slid from the bookstore to the record shop as if the pub didn't exist at all, and Harry got the feeling that only he could see it.

Harry entered the Leaky Cauldron. It was half-empty, which was slightly surprising considering that it was ten in the morning, and the people that were present were mostly wearing cloaks, drunk and asleep. Many had several bottles partly full of some beer-like liquid in front of them, and occasionally someone would wake up, bleary-eyed, for a few seconds and reach for the bottle, before promptly falling back asleep. The barman, a bald man that looked like a toothless walnut, was wiping the counter.

"Hello there," the barman said, upon seeing Harry. "My name's Tom, and I'm the barman of the Leaky Cauldron. Are you looking for someone in particular?"

"No, I'm looking for a way to get to Diagon Alley," Harry said. "It's nice to meet you, Tom."

"Oh, are you buying your Hogwarts supplies?" Tom asked. "Muggleborn, are you? That's easy, then. Follow me and I'll help you get through." Tom put his cloth down on the counter and, beckoning Harry, went over to a backdoor. The door led into a tiny backyard, which was surrounded by a high brick wall and which only had a rubbish bin. Tom pulled out a long stick and, counting the bricks, tapped a specific one. Suddenly, the brick began to quiver, then a small hole appeared, which grew wider and wider.

A second later, they were facing an archway, which led onto a cobbled street lined with shops and buildings. Above the archway was a sign: Welcome to Diagon Alley. Harry stared at the sign for a few seconds, barely noticing Tom talking about the things you could buy in Diagon Alley. Finally, he turned around, said goodbye to Tom, and went through the gateway. He was finally here in Diagon Alley, where he was about to find out whether or not he would have to return to the Dursleys.

He quickly entered the alley and, looking back, found the archway had turned into brick wall again. But looking forward, he saw that the sun was shining on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop, which had a sign saying, 'Cauldrons – All Sizes – Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver – Self-Stirring – Collapsible' hanging over them. They gleamed brightly, and, remembering his list, Harry wanted to buy one first so he wouldn't have to come back. But he had to get some money first, if there was any for him.

Diagon Alley was a fascinating place, as Harry found out within three minutes just by walking down the street. Witches and wizards strolled down the street, discussing prices of various things. The alley itself was packed with shops full of weird and wonderful things Harry had never seen before. Children stood with their faces pressed against the window of Quality Quidditch, a shop, begging their parents to buy them the Nimbus 2000, the latest broomstick. "It's the fastest ever," Harry heard one child say.

Eventually, he finally reached the building that he was trying to get to – Gringotts. It was a large, snowy-white building, which towered over the other shops in Diagon Alley. To enter it, you had to pass through burnished bronze doors, which had a creature standing beside it in a uniform of scarlet and gold. The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry, with long fingers and feet, a swarthy face and a pointed beard. He bowed as Harry walked up the stone steps and through the bronze doors.

Then Harry was faced with a pair of silver doors engraved with a warning about stealing. A pair of goblins bowed Harry through the silver doors, and then Harry found himself in a vast marble hall. There was a long counter down one side of the hall, with about a hundred goblins sitting on high stools behind it, who were writing in large ledgers, weighing coins, examining precious stones and so on. Many doors led off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these.

Heading for the counter, he found a free goblin and stood before him, wondering what to say when the goblin looked up and noticed him. "What do you want, wizard?"

"I'm here to see if my parents left me any money when they died," Harry said. "My name is Harrison Potter, but I usually go by Harry Potter."

The goblin stared at him for a few moments, then took a piece of paper – well, whatever type of paper it was that his envelope and letter had been made from – and wrote something on it before dropping it into a box. "I've told the Potter Account Manager you're here," the goblin said. "He'll send someone to take you to him." The goblin stared at Harry's forehead, where his lightning-shaped scar was, for a few more seconds before continuing to write in the ledger he had been writing in before he noticed Harry.

After a few moments, another goblin came up to Harry and said, "Are you Mr. Harrison Potter?" When Harry nodded in the affirmative, the goblin went on, "I'm Griphook, and I've been sent by the Potter Account Manager, Stoneclaw, to take you to him. Follow me." He glanced at Harry's scar – Harry was beginning to wonder why people, well, goblins, always looked at his scar first – before turning around and beckoning Harry to follow him into the depths of Gringotts.

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At twelve o'clock noon, Harry finally emerged from Gringotts. His meeting hadn't gone especially well, but it had gone better than Harry expected it to be when Harry first saw Stoneclaw's expression. Stoneclaw had turned out to be a goblin that was about half a head shorter than Harry, although he was dressed in a business suit like the ones that Uncle Vernon wore. As soon as Griphook had shown Harry down – by riding a fast-moving cart down – he knocked on the door politely, shown Harry in and left.

As soon as he walked in, Harry immediately got the impression that Stoneclaw wasn't pleased with him, and it wasn't his fault! Firstly, Harry had to do a blood test to confirm his identity – just in case someone was pretending to be him so they could steal from the Potter vaults. Then, Harry and Stoneclaw sat down to 'have a little chat', which basically consisted of Stoneclaw asking questions about Harry's disappearance from the wizarding world, and Harry trying to answer them (and often failing).

After those questions were over, the two started discussing finances. First, Harry was given an overview of the Potter accounts. It turned out that the Potter family was quite rich, and held two large vaults and one trust vault (for Harry) in Gringotts. However, the majority of their wealth was in investments and businesses, both in the Muggle – the word that wizarding folk used to describe 'non-magical folk' in Britain – and the wizarding worlds. The Potter family also had several properties around the world.

However, not everything was all rosy for the Potter family financial-wise. The vaults had been inactive for a decade, meaning that they had to update everything. Added to that, Harry was furious to learn that almost half a million Galleons had been stolen from him by a man named Albus Dumbledore, who was Hogwarts' Headmaster, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump and had claimed magical guardianship of Harry. The last one meant he could effectively steal money from Harry to 'use for his care'.

Harry immediately wanted to pull back all the money, but Stoneclaw convinced him that wouldn't be wise and let him know the 'jig was up', to use a Muggle phrase. Instead, they would keep track of the money, and next time Dumbledore came in and took more money from Harry, the goblins would put tracking charms on them. That meant they could see where all the money was going. When they found out, they could then have a chat with Dumbledore, and then see what would happen next.

Once the overview was finished, Stoneclaw told Harry a little about the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter when he found out that Harry knew nothing about his heritage. The Potter family had existed for many centuries, and were descended from one of the twelve knights of King Arthur's Round Table that were left after Lancelot betrayed King Arthur and left. That meant there were only eleven other families that were just as old as the House of Potter, all Noble and Most Ancient Houses, known as the Twelve.

Harry also learned that while he could become the Head of House Potter when he turned eleven, he couldn't become the Lord Potter until he came of age or was emancipated earlier. For now, though, he was officially 'Heir Apparent Potter', as he was the last of the main Potter line. This topic was discussed and finished within fifteen minutes, as it was pretty simple and there wasn't much to talk about. However, the next topic took a while: a betrothal.

"A what?" Harry said, trying to make sure he heard clearly. "A betrothal? Who could I be betrothed to?"

"A Miss Daphne Isabel Greengrass, who is the Heiress of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass," Stoneclaw said. "She is a fine match for you, lineage-wise."

"How can I be betrothed?" Harry asked. "The last time we met, if we ever did meet, we were babies!"

"Well, I heard this story from my predecessor, who heard it from his, so it might be a little different," Stoneclaw said, sighing. "But the gist is that in the 1910s, there was a Muggle war, which the Potters and the Greengrasses were involved in. As a result, the two Houses were nearly wiped out. So the current Lords Potter and Greengrass decided that if there was ever a time when the main line of either House had no sons, the Heir Apparent and the daughter closest to the Heir Apparent's age would become betrothed."

Seeing Harry's expression, Stoneclaw decided to move on to another topic and let him internalise it first. After the meeting was over, Stoneclaw called for Griphook again by writing something on a piece of parchment – he learned that was what the wizarding world's 'paper' was called – and dropping it into a box, like the goblin teller behind the counter had done to tell Stoneclaw that Harry was here. When Griphook arrived, he told Griphook to show Harry to his trust vault and let him take some money out.

However, before he let Harry go, Stoneclaw gave Harry two envelopes which both had 'To Harry' written on them and explained those were letters from his parents that had appeared on his desk magically the night they died. "They should also explain about the betrothal," Stoneclaw said. "Your parents were very smart people. They knew that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was hunting them, and that there was a chance they would be killed. They wanted to leave you a message in case they died." Harry just nodded.

Harry and Griphook rode, yet again, in a cart down to his trust vault. Griphook explained that as this was just a trust vault, it wasn't as far down as the two main Potter vaults were and anyway, he wasn't allowed into the main vaults unless he was of age or was accompanied by the Lord Potter. However, Harry was fine with his trust vault, which was supposed to contain five hundred thousand Galleons but now only contained a hundred thousand due to Dumbledore's stealing (he could only access Harry's trust vault).

There, he picked up a thousand Galleons, which he then stored into a coin pouch that Griphook gave him. "It's part of the standard banking procedure," Griphook said. "The first time you come in to pick money up, we give you a coin pouch. It's 'wizard-spaced', by the way, meaning that it can hold more things that it's supposed to, so you can fit a maximum of two thousand Galleons inside. If you lose this coin pouch, however, you can either buy one from us or buy one yourself somewhere else."

Then, Griphook returned him to Stoneclaw's office. Stoneclaw then stepped Harry through the steps he was required to do so he could blood-lock it to himself, before then giving him a copy of all the bank statements Harry should have received. Stoneclaw shrunk them so a finger tap could undo the shrinking and gave them to Harry so to put in his coin pouch. According to Stoneclaw, he couldn't give Harry a copy of his full financial holdings, as he was only allowed to get it three weeks after Harry turned eleven.

Once he exited Gringotts, he stood nearby and took a look at his booklist to see what supplies might be there. Textbooks featured prominently on the list, and he thought it might be nice to be able to both finish buying his textbooks and learn a little more about the wizarding world, through books. So, he decided that he would go to the bookshop first. After asking someone for directions, he was able to make his way to the bookshop, Flourish and Blotts, without any trouble.

Upon entering Flourish and Blotts, he asked an available sales assistant if she could help him find his Hogwarts textbooks for first year. Setting aside what she was doing for the moment – reading a book – she took him to an aisle near the counter. "These are the necessary Hogwarts textbooks, sorted from first year to seventh. There are some previous years' textbooks here as well, especially for Defence Against the Dark Arts. Will that be all?"

"Thank you," Harry said, "but I'm afraid not. You see, I'm new to the wizarding world, so I'd like to find out more information through books. Could you possible show me where I can find books relating to introduction to the magical world; information about the Houses; etiquette in the wizarding world; general information that most people know already and is considered basic information; mind magics and possibly some books about the government?"

"Of course, I can show you around," the sales assistant said, who then proceeded to show Harry to the relevant sections, where he collected books that he felt might be useful or necessary. After all, he had the gold, so why not buy some books? Then, the sales assistant showed Harry a section with his name on it, to his surprise. Glancing at the bookshelves, he could tell that these were fiction adventures with him as the main character, or books that supposedly had all the facts about the night his parents died.

"This is our current Book-of-the-Month," the sales assistant said, proudly pointing to a book which stood on top of a pedestal in the middle of the section. It was titled Harry Potter: The Boy-Who-Lived. "It's a very popular book, with record-breaking sales from the moment it was published. It's a true recollection of the days and important events leading up to that night, that night in detail and the aftermath of the next few days. Would you like to buy a copy?" Clearly, she hadn't recognised Harry.

"Yes, I suppose so," Harry said, taking a copy of Harry Potter: The Boy-Who-Lived as well as several other Harry Potter books. He didn't necessarily want to relive that night, but at least he could see what was so interesting about him, and why he was called the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and why people kept looking at his scar. He headed back to the assistant, who had produced a book basket for him to put his books in. Then, he went back to collect his Hogwarts textbooks, before queuing up to pay for his books.

Once the assistant at the counter had finished ringing up Harry's books, Harry was surprised that books cost quite a lot: fifty Galleons, meaning that it was nearly two hundred and fifty pounds. But, he had bought quite a lot of books, so maybe it wasn't that surprising. Once Harry had paid with fifty gold coins, the assistant at the counter put them into two large boxes and shrunk the boxes. "You can unshrink them by waving your wand over them and saying 'Finite Incantatem'," the assistant said when Harry asked.

Harry then put the two shrunken packages into one of his pockets, before deciding that he should eat lunch. His stomach was rumbling and, according to a charm that showed the time, which someone showed Harry when Harry asked for the time, it was nearly one o'clock and he hadn't eaten much at breakfast, as Dudley and Vernon had eaten more than they usually did today. Harry only had had one slice of toast with a scraping of butter, which was less than he usually got.

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Once he finished his lunch, Harry took a few minutes to decide what he needed to buy next. After a few moments of deliberation, he decided on going to a shop called Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions to buy some new outfits so he didn't have to keep walking around in Dudley's hand-me-downs. There were already quite a lot of people staring at him, probably because he wasn't wearing those robes that wizarding folk all seemed to wear, as well as the fact that they were clearly too big for him.

When Harry walked inside, he found a rather large shop completely full of clothing, both Muggle and magical. After a few minutes of standing there, two women appeared, one laden down with shopping bags, who promptly waved goodbye to the other and left. The second woman, who was dressed in mauve and had blue eyes and white hair – she seemed quite old, although rather spry – in a bun, approached Harry. "Hello, dearie," she said. "I'm Madam Malkin. Are you here for your Hogwarts robes?"

"Yes, ma'am," Harry said. "However, I would also like to purchase other clothing, both Muggle and magical, but mostly magical."

"I can help you with that," Madam Malkin said. "But we should sort out your Hogwarts robes first." She led Harry over to a tall stool, and gestured for him to stand on it, which he did. "Feet slightly apart and arms together, please." Harry obeyed, and watched as a clearly magical tape measure did the work, while a quill wrote by itself on a piece of floating parchment. When both stopped, Madam Malkin gestured for a rack of Hogwarts uniforms that seemed to be about the same size as clothes that would fit Harry.

She pulled a set of plain black robes out and, slipping it over Harry's head, began to pin it to the right length. "I'll be done in a jiffy, and then you can either wait here or you can come back in half-an-hour or so for these robes once I'm done fitting you," Madam Malkin said. "Of course, if you're buying other clothes as well, as you said you want to, my sales assistant can probably finish your robes in time for you to pay for them at the same time as your other clothing."

When Madam Malkin was done, she gestured for Harry to get off the stool and handed the robes to her sales assistant. "Adjust this please, dear," she said, before turning to Harry. "Now, what sort of clothing were you thinking of buying? Formal, semi-formal or informal? Ones to wear at home or outdoor ones? Do you need wish to have your clothes made of special materials? What colours would you like? Looking at you, I think greens and blues, or pastel colours, would do nicely. Dark reds to contrast, maybe."

"Everything, ma'am," Harry said. "Treat it as if I've lost all my clothes in a house fire except for these clothes, and these are damaged beyond repair. Underwear, robes, pants, shirts, belts, shoes, socks, jackets. For Muggle clothing, I just need informal clothing, but for robes, I could do with formal, semi-formal and informal. Oh, plus my Hogwarts robes, of course, but you've already measured me for that, so I don't really need to mention it. I also don't really care about the price, as long as the quality is good."

"Well, then we'll have to get started," Madam Malkin said, smiling. "I think that you're going to be spending quite a lot of time here."

What followed was a good few hours of Harry constantly trying different clothes, changing styles, items and colours to suit his liking. He tried on formal, semi-formal and informal robes, long- and short-sleeved shirts, T-shirts, trousers, jeans, shorts, jackets, belts, trainers, boots, socks, other accessories and everything he could possibly need or want. Eventually, he bought quite a lot of the items he had tried on, counting himself lucky that Mafdam Malkin didn't notice his scar, which was covered up by his hair.

While Madam Malkin was calculating the cost of his new attire – which ended up costing around 200 Galleons – Harry asked her if there was a place where he could stay in Diagon Alley for a few days. She suggested the Leaky Cauldron, the pub which Harry had come through from Charing Cross into Diagon Alley, as it was quite cheap and convenient, so Harry decided to take her advice. She then packaged up his clothes, before shrinking them. Again, Finite Incantatem could return them to their original size.

Next, he decided to buy his wand. Considering that all his newly-bought possessions were shrunk and could only be reversed by Finite Incantatem, which required a wand, and he needed a wand to go back and forth between the Leaky Cauldron and Diagon Alley, a wand was an immediate necessity. Plus, he needed one for Hogwarts, and for basic things such as telling the time, as there seemed to be no clocks whatsoever in any shop in Diagon Alley, nor in any establishment.

But since he hadn't passed a shop that sold wands yet, he decided to ask someone and save time by not wandering up and down in search of a wand shop. So after stopping a wizard on the street and asking where he could buy a wand, he headed straight for a shop that the wizard had called 'Ollivanders'. "Best shop in the world if you're looking for a wand, Ollivanders is," the wizard said gruffly, and proceeded to give him directions. Harry thanked him and set off to find the wand shop.

Harry soon found 'Ollivanders', as the wizard called it. It was a narrow and shabby shop, which read on the sign over the door in peeling gold letters: 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.'. It was grey, and although people passed by it constantly and it was situated in a crowded alley, there seemed to be a layer of dust over the shop itself, if that was possible. The window display consisted of a single wand on a faded purple cushion, and as Harry entered, a tinkling bell rang somewhere in the shop.

The inside of the shop was rather empty, although the air and silence seemed to tingle with some ancient, strange and forgotten magic. There were thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly up to the ceiling and a single spindly chair in the shop, but apart from that, there was nothing else. A thin layer of dust lay over everything, just like the outside seemed to. Harry sat down on the spindly chair to wait for Mr. Ollivander to arrive, the back of his neck prickling with the strange magic.

"Good afternoon," a soft voice came from the back of the shop. Harry jumped up from the chair as an old man, who was presumably Mr. Ollivander, approached, with wide, pale eyes that shone like moons through the gloomy shop. "Ah, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." Mr. Ollivander moved closer, his pale eyes unblinking, which began to creep Harry out. He began to tell Harry about his parents' wands, and the day his parents came in to get their first wands.

Then, when he was done, he pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"I'm right-handed, sir," Harry said, holding his right arm out. The tape measure started measuring by itself from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head, without the help of Mr. Ollivander – who, Harry realised, was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes and piling them on the floor.

As he flitted around the shelves, Mr. Ollivander said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand." He picked a box up from the pile on the floor. "Try this, Mr. Potter. Beechwood and dragon heartstring, nine inches. Just wave it."

Feeling rather foolish, Harry did so, but he had barely waved it before Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand. "No, no, that won't do," he said. "Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy." Harry tried it, but again, had barely waved it before it was snatched out of his hand. "No, no, try this. Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy." Harry tried that. "No, what about this? Yew and dragon heartstring, ten inches, nice and supple." Harry tried that. And the next. And the next.

Over the next half-an-hour or so, Harry tried many different wands. They were made of different woods: beechwood, alder, yew, ebony, maple and so on; and had different cores: unicorn, phoenix tail feathers, dragon heartstring and rarer types. The pile of wands that Harry had tried grew higher and higher, while the stack of untried wands dwindled rapidly, as Harry was trying wands as fast as Mr. Ollivander could pull new ones from the shelves for him to try.

Eventually, he pulled a box down and said, "Ah, yes, why not? It's an unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Harry tried that, but managed to set the spindly chair on fire with it instead. Mr. Ollivander put the fire out with his own wand, before taking the wand Harry was trying back. "No, no, clearly not. Strange, Dumbledore thought that might be yours. I don't know why he thinks he's an expert in wandlore or why he's taking an interest in your wand, but there you go."

By now, the pile of untried wands was reduced to one wand. "Ah, try this one, then. It's a special one, if I say so myself. Elder and thunderbird feather, eleven inches, not too flexible but not too rigid either." As Harry took the wand, a strange, warm feeling came down his arm and into his fingers. He raised the wand above his head and swished it through the dusty air, causing red sparks to shoot from the end. "Bravo!" Mr. Ollivander cried, clapping his hands. "But curious, curious. Do you know what your wand means?"

"No," Harry said. "Could you explain then, Mr. Ollivander?"

"Elder wands are special," Mr. Ollivander began. "They contain powerful magic inside them, and are the hardest type of wand to master. It takes a very remarkable and unusual wizard to find a perfect match in them, let alone keep or master an elder wand. When such a pairing occurs, it may be taken as certain the person in question is marked out for a special destiny. Thunderbird feathers contain power in them too, so I think we can expect great things from you, Mr. Potter, great things indeed."

"Thank you, Harry said, as he paid seven Galleons for the wand – so about thirty-five pounds – and five Galleons for a wand Holster. Clutching the wand, he then exited the shop gladly, as he didn't like it very much. It gave him the shivers, with all the magic that tingled in the air, as well as Mr. Ollivander's pale, unblinking eyes staring straight at him, almost as if he could see into Harry's mind. Harry then headed straight for a trunk shop, as he wanted to put everything down in one trunk instead of carrying it around.

.

.

'Lucky Luggage' was the name of the luggage shop that Harry found nearby in Diagon Alley, which had been painted a mint green. Gold lettering announced the name to all, and below it in slightly smaller letters, 'Maker of Exquisite Trunks Since 1830 B.C.' had been written in similar gold lettering. In the window, a brown trunk was open, with a piece of cardboard saying, 'SCHOOL SALE: 20% OFF ON HOGWARTS TRUNKS (Applicable to everyone)' propped on it. Harry decided to enter.

The moment Harry stepped in, he was greeted by the owner of the shop, a slightly plump man with brown hair and eyes. "Hello," the owner said. "My name is Mr. Porter, and I'm the owner of this shop. Are you here for a Hogwarts trunk, or are you here for something else? We have many types, colours and styles in here, so I'm sure we can find one that tweaks your fancy. If not, you can always get one custom-made if you're willing to pay more gold and wait a little longer, of course."

"I'm just looking for a trunk," Harry said. "But I don't just want the basic, or standard, student type as I need one that's slightly larger."

"We can do that," Mr. Porter said, nodding. "If you don't just want a normal one, we have mokeskin-lined trunks, meaning they're 'wizard-spaced'. Would you prefer that type, then? Then, you can buy the 'normal' type, which can hold twice as much as it looks from the outside and has many compartments. Do you need one for Hogwarts, or do you just need one to store things? We also have the 'roomy', 'large', 'grand' and 'premium' type, which all have rooms inside. Would you prefer one of those?"

"I might," Harry said. "How are those trunks with rooms like? They're definitely 'wizard-spaced', so they should have enough space for what I want to fit inside."

"Well, the 'roomy' type is like a normal trunk, but with one room inside," Mr. Porter said. "The 'large type' has three rooms inside instead of one. The 'grand' type has a two-bedroom apartment inside it, along with some compartments like the 'normal' type on top, making it look like a normal trunk from above. The 'premium' type has a three-bedroom apartment inside instead of a two-bedroom one. And yes, the last two are 'wizard-spaced' like you wouldn't believe."

"Do they come with safety features or any recognisable marks?" Harry asked.

"Yes, of course," Mr. Porter said. "We can help fit safety features on it, which can suit your preferences. The trunks can also be in different colours according to your liking, and you can have your name and family crest printed onto the top of the trunk so it's easily recognisable. I'll step you through those once you choose the type of trunk you want, and then select the trunk you want from our selection. What type would you like?"

"I think the 'grand' type would suit me best," Harry said. "An apartment to myself would be nice. Does it come with furniture?"

"Yes," Mr. Porter said. "But if you don't want furniture, it'll be cheaper than it currently is. Probably about sixty percent of the current price, I'd suppose, so... one fifty Galleons? We're having a sale, that's why it's so cheap. The total, with the furniture, is two fifty Galleons. Without the extra features like adding more rooms, that is. Those cost more money, as it has to be specially changed for you, and it takes time, especially with 'wizard-spaced' things."

"I'll take the 'grand' type, but I want the furniture," Harry decided. "I don't want extra rooms, though." Grinning, Mr. Porter led Harry to a section marked 'Wizard-Spaced: Grand' where an array of trunks sat on displays. There were black ones, brown ones, grey ones, silver ones and white ones, all quite beautiful. But Harry felt his eyes drawn to a black one with silver decorations that was at the end of the line. "I'd like that one, please," he said, pointing to the trunk he was drawn to.

"Very well," Mr. Porter said. "Would you like any features? The only one that costs extra is the extra rooms, but as you've already said you don't want extra rooms, the cost will still be two-fifty no matter what you decide. I've told you how you can change its looks, but we can charm them to be Featherlight, Self-Locking or Self-Levitating permanently, which will be deactivated by pressing on an embedded rune stone. We can also change the type of lock if your dissatisfied with the standard type and fit wheels onto one end."

"I'll have it charmed to be Featherlight," Harry decided. "I like the colour, and I think I'll get wheels– wait, is there a levitating spell?"

"Yes, of course," Mr. Porter said. "Swish and flick your wand, and say 'Wingardium Leviosa' while pointing your wand at the trunk. It would be much easier than dragging your trunk around, especially as it's just going to sit in your Hogwarts dorm room for the majority of the year. What about your lock? There are four types of locks: the standard, which is unlocked with a key, a lock that requires your fingerprint, a lock that has a number password, and a lock that answers to your voice."

"I'll have the lock that answers to my fingerprint only," Harry said. "Or could I get a lock that answers to my fingerprint or my voice?"

"Yes, if you want to pay five Galleons extra," Mr. Porter said. "What's your name, and would you like your family crest printed?"

"I would, but can you keep a secret? I'd appreciate it if you didn't let everyone know that I was here," Harry said. "I'll have the lock that answers to my fingerprint, by the way."

"Of course," Mr. Porter said. "Are you ashamed of your name because your parents chose a name from the seventeenth century or something?"

"No," Harry replied. "My name is Harrison 'Harry' Potter, and I'm told that I'm supposedly the famous Boy-Who-Lived or some such nonsense, according to the many books I found with my name on them written about in the books, in Flourish and Blotts. Just call me Mr. Evans, please. Henry Evans, if you must say my full name for any reason."

Mr. Porter's eyes widened. "Well," he said after a while. "That's quite a surprise, having Harry Potter in my shop. But of course, I'll keep your secret. Would you still like to have your name and family crest printed? I can always cast a Notice-Me-Not over the area, which can be undone by a simple 'Finite Incantatem'. But may I suggest that you either buy a hat or cast a simple glamour to hide your scar if you don't want to be recognised? You can find out how by reading a few books in Flourish and Blotts."

"Thank you, I'd like the Notice-Me-Not," Harry said. "When can I come back to pick my trunk up, and should I pay now or later?"

"You can come back tomorrow morning," Mr. Porter said. "Tomorrow morning, any time after eight in the morning. Just pay one hundred Galleons now, and you can pay me the next one hundred and fifty tomorrow when you come to pick up your trunk. Of course, I can always deliver it to you instead, but the 'shipping fee' is 2 Galleons." He produced a piece of parchment and a quill from his pocket. "Fill this in if you want me to deliver it instead, and then sign it at the bottom and give me the money."

"I'll just come back and pick it up tomorrow," Harry replied. "But thanks, anyway." He handed one hundred Galleons to Mister Porter, before exiting the shop.

.

.

Once Harry arrived back at the Leaky Cauldron – he decided that he should call it a day on shopping, as it was already five in the afternoon – he managed to get a room under the name 'Henry Evans'. Harry was surprised the old bartender didn't ask any questions, just gave him a room and ran through a well-rehearsed spiel about the available facilities. Then he produced a room key, handed it to Harry and said, "Don't lose this key, or it's 10 Galleons. You've got Room 12, on the first floor."

Harry thanked Tom and took the key. He then went upstairs to drop his packages off and unshrink them before coming back downstairs again.

"Is the room alright, Mr. Evans, or are you unsatisfied?" Tom asked as soon as he saw Harry.

"The room's fine, thank you," Harry said. "I just need to make a phone call to someone in the Muggle world, and I was wondering if you've got a Muggle phone."

"Here you go," Tom said, producing a phone from under the counter. "This one should work, but you've got to step out of the Leaky Cauldron to the Muggle side to use it, or it won't work properly. Something about how there's no 'phone signal' or something in the Leaky Cauldron or Diagon Alley, and it won't work anyway because it's 'elktronic' and the magic affects it." Harry took it and crossed the Leaky Cauldron to the 'Muggle' side of it, and stepped out of the door

He then dialed the Dursleys' phone number, and Aunt Petunia picked up. Before she could say anything, though, Harry immediately said everything he needed to. "Hello, Aunt Petunia. I've decided to run away and, as I've found somewhere else to live, I won't be returning. Do what you like with my possessions in my cupboard, I've got new ones anyway." Then, as he heard Aunt Petunia start to scream, he hung up and walked back inside, giving the phone back to Tom.

Afterwards, he headed up to his room to change into basic, black, informal wizard robes that he had bought today in Madam Malkin's shop. He then put his wand, his money pouch, his copy of An Introduction to the Wizarding World and the two envelopes which Stoneclaw had given him into his pockets. As it was nearing six o'clock, according to what Tom said, it was dinnertime, so he could read his book and the two letters while eating. He ordered some dinner, before sitting down at a table.

As the food still wasn't ready – when it was, Tom would shout the number of your order (the number depended on the order that people bought their food in) and you'd go to get it from the counter – Harry decided to start reading his letters first. He picked up one of them – he didn't choose it for some reason, he simply picked it because it was the first one that he could reach – and opened it. It read:

Dearest Harry,

I hope by the time you read this then you're a happy, healthy boy under the care of either your godmother and her husband, Lord Franklin 'Frank' and Lady Alice Longbottom, or your godfather and his wife – if he chooses to marry – Lord Sirius Black and the future Lady Black. If they weren't able to take you in, hopefully you've grown up with Lord Cygnus and Lady Isabel Greengrass, or Lady Amelia Bones and her husband if she chooses to marry. At least one of them should have been able to take you in.

But no matter who you've grown up with, as long as they're in the aforementioned list, I hope that your life has been a happy one so far and that it'll continue to be a happy one for the rest of your life. By the time you're reading this, you should be about eleven and about to start your first year at Hogwarts in a month or so, so I hope you're ready for Hogwarts. It's a wonderful place, by the way, and not just because of the magic – it's also because of the people.

Now, you've probably heard about your betrothal, which Stoneclaw – or his replacement as the Potter Account Manager, if there's been one since I died – should have told you a little about. Yes, you really are betrothed to Miss Daphne Greengrass, Heiress Presumptive of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass. This should be a good match, as our families have been quite close friends over the centuries both Houses have existed. But, I'll explain it anyway in case Stoneclaw hasn't told you 'why'.

A few generations ago, there was a huge Muggle war – World War I – in which the Potters and Greengrasses were heavily involved in, as both Houses had business relations, investments and dealings in the Muggle world. As a result, both were nearly wiped out. So Lord Henry Potter and Lord Samuel Greengrass, the Lords of the Houses at that time, decided that in the case that either of the Houses didn't have a male heir to carry on the name, a betrothal would come into play.

This betrothal basically stated that in the case of that happening, the Heir Apparent of one House – the one with a son – and the daughter closest to the Heir Apparent's age would become betrothed in an unbreakable contract. This is you and Daphne, as the Greengrasses do not have a male heir and will never have one in Daphne's generation. The reason I know this is because Lady Isabel Greengrass is pregnant with a female child, and the Healers have said that it will be too risky to have another child after this one.

I'm sorry if you feel like you are 'trapped' in this contract, due to the fact that it is unbreakable. But if Daphne is anything like her mother – looks or personality-wise, as her mother is quite smart and very friendly to all, as is her father – then hopefully you might be a little happier. I don't know how she's like at the moment – this letter was written in 1981 – but I hope she's nice to you and you're at least friends. I know you two will grow up to do powerful things together, and continue to make both your Houses proud.

I'd also like to explain a little about the Potter family. This is also not to be public information, but private information that is given out only on a need-to-know basis. The House of Potter is descended from the House of Peverell, which has long gone extinct in the male line due to a lack of male descendants. The eldest brother, Antioch, was murdered; the second brother, Cadmus, had a daughter who married into the House of Gaunt; and the last brother, Ignotus, had a granddaughter who married into the House of Potter.

You should know why this is important, as you've probably read 'The Tale of the Three Brothers' by Beedle the Bard. But if you haven't, well, I suppose you should read it quickly. You'll figure out why it's important, as that information is too delicate to write down. If you really can't figure it out, even after a long time of thinking, you should go and ask either Stoneclaw – or his replacement, if he's got one – or whoever's your guardian now that your father and I are dead.

But remember, your father and I will always love you, even from the afterlife. We may be gone physically, but we're still with you spiritually. If you ever get stuck in a dark time, think of us and we'll guide you to the right way. Remember, always do what is right, not what is easy.

Lady Lily Jane Potter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter (Mum)

Harry stared at the letter for a while before opening the next one. At least he knew for sure that he wasn't supposed to go to the Dursleys – instead, Dumbledore had dumped him there on the doorstep of 4 Privet Drive, without even knocking on the Dursleys' door. No, he put a letter in with Harry, and expected them to keep him based on what he wrote in a letter! At least they weren't his guardians anymore. The next one read:

Hey Prongslet (that's your Marauder name!)

If you're reading this, that means I was killed – probably in the war – before you were eleven. And if I'm dead and died in the war, that probably means your Mum's dead as well, or you probably wouldn't be reading this letter and anyway, she'd want to get 'revenge' on whoever killed me, even if she died herself. I'm sorry we weren't there for you as you grew up, but I hope you have had a happy life so far with any of the people we designated to be your guardians in case we died.

Oh, that reminds me. If I was killed, my will's probably been activated, but as you're probably not of age or have been emancipated yet, you probably won't have had a chance to read my will or your Mum's will. Anyway, the main gist of it is that everything we have goes to you, with the exception of a few thousand Galleons or so that we've bequeathed to our friends. There's also a list of people who are supposed to take care of you, and people who are NOT, under any circumstances, allowed to take you.

The people that are on the list (in order) that are supposed to take care of you are:

– Lord Franklin 'Frank' and Lady Alice Longbottom – Alice is your sworn godmother, as your mother is the sworn godmother of the Longbottoms' son, Neville Longbottom. They are both responsible people, as is Frank's mother, a formidable woman named Augusta Longbottom, who is a widow. If Frank and Alice are somehow incapable of taking care of you but are your guardians, the guardianship should temporarily transfer to Augusta. She will look after you well, we know.

– Heir Apparent Sirius Orion Black – he could be Lord Sirius Black the Third by now, as the current Lord Black is getting quite old and Sirius is the last male left of the Black line. I campaigned hard against your mother to put Sirius first on the list, as he's your sworn godfather, but your mother overruled me, saying that Sirius is far too immature. While I know Sirius would take responsibility if he was forced to, sadly, I must agree with your mother.

– Lord Cygnus and Lady Isabel Greengrass – Close friends, although we were in different Hogwarts Houses. Cygnus and I became close after we graduated from Hogwarts and immediately signed up to be Aurors, while your mother and Isabel grew close as both were aiming to get their Charms Master's Degrees together, under Professor Filius Flitwick, who is the Charms Professor and Head of Ravenclaw at Hogwarts. You're also betrothed to their eldest daughter, Daphne.

– Lady Amelia Susan Bones – A close friend from within the DMLE, and a very good Auror too. She's a couple of years older than us, but is already rising through the ranks as fast as possible. I wouldn't be surprised if she's currently the Head of the DMLE, she's that good at her job. Her niece, Susan Bones, was also part of the circle of children you used to play with. The group included Daphne, Neville, Tracey Davis, Hannah Abbott and Luna Lovegood.

Now, onto the topic of Luna Lovegood. She's the Heiress Apparent of the Ancient House of Lovegood, and the only daughter of Xenophilius and Maya Lovegood. She's born on September 2nd, 1980, which means she missed the cut for your Hogwarts year by one day. But, your mother and I, along with the Longbottoms, the Greengrasses and the Blacks – all Noble and Most Ancient Houses, and we're Four of the Twelve – wrote a letter to the School Board, asking if Luna could be in the same year as you. They agreed!

Next, the topic of the betrothal. Your mother's most likely told you already, but anyway, the gist is that the Potters and the Greengrasses were nearly wiped out, so the two Lords of the Houses of Potter and Greengrass at the time decided to write an unbreakable betrothal contract. If either House didn't have a male heir, the Heir Apparent and the daughter closest to his age would be betrothed, to marry when the Heir was of age (don't worry, Daphne's only a week older than you, as her birthday's on July 24th).

You also have to learn about the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. We're allied with the Noble and Most Ancient Houses of Longbottom, Black and Greengrass, as well as the Noble and Ancient House of Bones. Longbottom and Bones are 'Light' Houses, while Greengrass is a 'Grey' House and Black is a 'Dark' House. Please be careful with the House of Black, especially, as there are many members that it would be a pleasure never to meet (especially Bellatrix Lestrange, neé Black).

I also hope you've been playing plenty of pranks – especially on Sirius – and continue to be a mini-Marauder. But, I also hope you've been training and studying hard to get ready for Hogwarts and for taking your rightful place in wizarding society. Remember, we'll always love you, no matter where we are, and we'll be watching over you from the afterlife. I hope you have a long and happy life with Daphne, and have lots of children of your own.

Love from your Dad

Once Harry was done reading, he sat there for a while, thinking about them, before putting them back in their envelopes and setting them aside. When his food was ready, he got the food – sandwiches and a drink called 'butterbeer' – and started reading An Introduction to the Wizarding World while eating. When he noticed that everyone who wasn't drunk and slumped on the tables was disappearing, he put everything back into his pockets and made his way back to his room, which was surprisingly comfortable.

Once he arrived back in his room, he took a quick shower, before lying on his bed. He organised his memories of the day, creating new sections within his mind. He re-labeled the 'Strange' section, calling it 'Magic', and put all his memories of the day into the newly-labeled 'Magic' section. In the 'Magic' section, he created more categories, organising it by time. Then he reviewed his mental to-do list, before quickly falling fast asleep – his first night in a proper bed that wasn't stuck under the cupboard, like at the Dursleys'.

.

Hey guys!

I'm Shadow of the Blue Moon. What do you think about this fanfic? Is it too long (not all the chapters will be as long as this one)? Do you like how it's going? Do you want anything to be different? Please review, follow and favourite, and I'll hopefully be posting my next chapter soon! (Note from August 21, 2018: I've edited this so the storyline is slightly different, but the main parts are still the same.)

Shadow of the Blue Moon x

Chapter Word Count (rounded to nearest 100): 10,400