Disclaimers : I don't own any characters or settings apart from a few. All credits goes to J. K Rowling. ( Normal text is the Harry potter story line and text in bold is Marauders era reactions.)

The light of dawn filtered through the cracks of the old, weathered hut, and Harry stirred, reluctant to open his eyes. It was all just a dream, he told himself, clinging to the fragile hope. "It was just a dream," he murmured to himself. "A giant named Hagrid didn't come to tell me I was a wizard. When I open my eyes, I'll be in my cupboard under the stairs."

"Oh! Harry," cooed Lily.

A loud tapping noise interrupted his thoughts. Harry frowned. That couldn't be Aunt Petunia knocking—this wasn't the familiar, sharp rapping he was used to. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

"All right, all right! I'm getting up!" Harry groaned, pushing himself upright. As he did, Hagrid's enormous coat slipped off his shoulders, confirming that it hadn't been a dream after all.

"You know, when I was his age, I would've been far more thrilled to see a giant coming through the door." exclaimed Sirius.

Sunlight flooded the room, and there on the windowsill was a brown owl, its beak tapping against the glass, a newspaper clutched in its talons. The storm had passed, leaving a clear, crisp morning behind.

Harry stumbled to the window, heart racing with excitement. He threw it open, and the owl fluttered in, dropping the newspaper onto Hagrid's massive chest before descending to the floor.

So Hagrid is here, thought Harry.

Peter grinned, his eyes gleaming. "Hagrid's going to be the best part of this journey for Harry."

It began pecking aggressively at the coat Harry had just thrown off.

"Hey! Stop that," Harry scolded, waving a hand at the bird, which snapped its beak at him in defiance.

"Hagrid," Harry called, louder this time. "There's an owl in here!"

Hagrid grunted, barely lifting his head from the sagging sofa. "Pay him," he mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

"Pay him? Pay him what?"

"Check the pockets," Hagrid muttered, shiftingto get comfortable again.

Confused but curious, Harry began rummaging through Hagrid's voluminous coat. He pulled out an odd assortment of items: keys, teabags, balls of string, and even slug pellets. At last, his hand closed around a handful of strange coins.

Molly watched Harry with a smile, shaking her head lightly in amusement. "Honestly, it's adorable how lost he looks."

"Five Knuts should do it," Hagrid said, not bothering to open his eyes. "The little bronze ones."

Evanka, who had been silent for a moment, smiled knowingly. "Hagrid's not exactly the most organized, is he?" 

Harry picked out five small bronze coins, holding them up uncertainly. The owl extended its leg, and Harry saw a tiny pouch tied to it. Carefully, he dropped the coins inside. With a hoot of satisfaction, the owl soared back out the window.

Hagrid yawned and stretched, his massive arms brushing the walls of the hut. "Best be gettin' a move on, Harry. Lots ter do today. Gotta head to London and pick up yer school things. But first..." He reached for a plate of sausages, grinning. "Have a bite. Not bad, even cold. And a slice o' that birthday cake wouldn't hurt either."

Harry held one of the coins up to the light, marveling at its strangeness. "Hagrid," he began hesitantly, "I don't have any money. The Dursleys—well, they'd never pay for me to go to a school like this."

"Don't worry about that," Hagrid said firmly. "Yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh nothin'? They wouldn't keep their gold in the house, now, would they? Nah, first stop for us is Gringotts. Wizard bank."

Remus raised his eyebrows, smiling wide. "Ah, I remember the first time I went to Gringotts," he mused, his grin widening. "Completely overwhelmed, thinking I was going to mess it all up."

"Wizards have banks?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Just the one—Gringotts. Run by goblins." Hagrid said, standing and pulling on his enormous boots. "It's the safest place in the world, aside from Hogwarts. No safer place to keep gold."

Harry's eyes widened. "Goblins?"

"Yeh wouldn't wanna mess with 'em, I'll tell yehthat. Fierce little blighters. I gotta visit Gringotts too. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." 

Arthur smiled softly as he watched Harry's growing sense of awe. "Goblins are... well, they're not the easiest creatures to deal with," he said, a gentle chuckle escaping his lips.

Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you gettin' things from Gringotts -- knows he can trust me, see. Anyhow, ready? Let's get goin."

The boat that Uncle Vernon had left was still tied to the rock, now half-filled with rainwater from the storm. Harry couldn't help but ask, "Hagrid, how did you get here? There's only one boat."

Hagrid's eyes twinkled mischievously. "Flew," he said simply.

"Flew?" Harry repeated, amazed.

"Yup. But now that I've got yeh, we'll take the boat back. Not s'pposed to use magic, yeh see." He winked. "That is, unless yeh don't mind if I speed things up a bit."

Sirius Black, laughing, "Honestly, imagine poor Vernon's face if he saw this happening! Bet he'd have choked on his own mustache!"

"I—I don't mind at all," Harry said eagerly.

Grinning, Hagrid pulled out his battered pink umbrella. He tapped the side of the boat twice, and it shot forward, skimming across the waves so quickly that Harry's hair whipped around his face.

Peter gave a nervous chuckle. "Well, no one's stopping him, are they? And it's not like the Ministry is tracking his magic."

"Wow!" Harry exclaimed, clinging to the edge of the boat. "Is Gringotts really that safe?"

"Aye," Hagrid said, settling back and unfolding a newspaper. "Spells, enchantments, dragons guardin' the high-security vaults... And Gringotts goes deep under London, hundreds of miles below. Yeh'd die o' hunger trying ter get out if yeh tried robbin' it."

Sirius Black smirked. "Sounds like a great place for a heist. What do you think, Moony?"

Remus Lupin raised an eyebrow. "I think you'd be caught before you even made it past the lobby, Padfoot."

Harry stared at Hagrid, his mind buzzing. "Dragons?"

"Wouldn't mind havin' one meself," Hagrid admitted wistfully as he pulled on his boots. "Always wanted one since I was a lad."

Professor Flitwick chuckled. "I'd expect nothing less from Hagrid. He always had an odd fondness for magical creatures."

Harry sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Harry had learned from Uncle Vernon that people liked to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, he'd never had so many questions in his life.

"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page.

Charlus Potter chuckled. "Ah, some things never change."

Gideon Prewett smirked. "Well, The Ministry's been a disaster for decades."

"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself. "

'Course," said Hagrid. "But what does a Ministry of Magic do?"

Augusta Longbottom exhaled through her nose. "A good question, really. I'd love to hear someone from the Ministry try to answer that without embarrassing themselves."

Edgar Bones, a Ministry employee himself, folded his arms. "In theory, it should be upholding the law and protecting the magical community. In reality... well, you see how people talk about it."

Both Silas Ferre and Lorenzo Petre exchanged knowing looks, silently thinking how their own Ministries—efficient, structured, and far less prone to chaos—would never allow the kind of blundering incompetence that seemed to plague the British magical government.

"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."

"Why?"

"Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."

Lucius Malfoy scoffed. "For once, the oaf is correct. The secrecy of magic is crucial. The last thing we need is Muggles interfering in our affairs."

Rabastan Lestrange nodded. "Muggles knowing about us would be a disaster. They'd fear us or try to control us. The Ministry is weak, but at least they get that right."

Regulus Black gave a small hum of agreement but said nothing.

Andromeda Tonks rolled her eyes at them.

At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street. Harry was bursting with questions, but he kept them to himself as they climbed onto dry land. The train ride to London was another adventure. Hagrid, too large for the seats, spent the journey knitting something bright yellow and drawing curious stares from the other passengers.

Molly Weasley, watching with interest, smiled fondly. "Oh, I do love a man who can knit. Maybe I should send him some proper wool."

Arthur Weasley, grinning, leaned toward her. "You just want to see what he makes with it."

"Still got yer letter, Harry?" Hagrid asked as the train rumbled on.

Harry nodded, pulling it from his pocket.

"Good, good. There's a list o' everything yeh need."

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM (.......)

COURSE BOOKS (......)

OTHER EQUIPMENT (......)

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

James Potter groaned dramatically. "That's a crime against Quidditch!"

Sirius Black huffed. "I hated that rule. First years should be able to bring brooms if they prove they can fly!"

Camille Davis chuckled. "It's a safety measure, Sirius. Not every eleven-year-old is born with Quidditch skills."

Marlene McKinnon, grinning, replied, "Unless, of course, one happens to be a natural at flying."

"Can we buy all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud.

Evan Rosier grinned. "Oh, if only he knew."

"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid. 

Navigating through London's bustling streets, Hagrid's sheer size cleared a path, and Harry trailed behind, trying to keep up. The streets were lined with ordinary shops, but Harry's eyes darted around, searching for anything remotely magical.

Mary McDonald, soft with nostalgia, whispered, "I remember my first time there. It felt like stepping into a dream."

Alice Fortescue, smiling, murmured, "Nothing like seeing it for the first time. The lights, the people, the magic everywhere..."

James Potter, grinning, nudged Sirius. "Bet he won't be able to stop staring at the brooms in Quality Quidditch Supplies."

Sirius Black smirked. "Or at the wands in Ollivander's. That's a moment you never forget."

 "This is it," Hagrid finally said, stopping in front of a small, dingy pub. "The Leaky Cauldron."

Harry blinked. The pub was so ordinary-looking that he wouldn't have noticed it if Hagrid hadn't pointed it out. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Hagrid could see it. Before he could mention this, Hagrid had steered him inside. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Harry's shoulder and making Harry's knees buckle.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at Harry, "is this -- can this be --?"

James Potter, stiffening, felt his breath hitch. "Oh, Merlin. They recognize him already?"

Lily Evans, clasping her hands, her voice barely above a whisper. "Of course they do... He looks just like you."

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter... what an honor."

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

Dorcas Meadowes, worried, murmured, "He must be completely overwhelmed... he doesn't even know what's happening."

Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming. Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Harry found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."

"Always wanted to shake your hand -- I'm all of a flutter."

Dorea Potter, shaking her head, sighed. "That's too much weight for an eleven-year-old."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before!" said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."

"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!" Harry shook hands again and again.

Benji Fenwick, frowning, muttered, "Blimey, this is too much attention for a kid who's never even set foot in our world."

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p- pleased I am to meet you."

Barty Crouch Jr, narrowing his eyes, hissed. "What's up with that twitching? He looks more nervous than a house-elf on cleaning duty."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.

Severus Snape, with a sarcastic edge, scoffed, "Defense Against the Dark Arts, huh? How's that for irony? The guy can't even handle a conversation without shaking."

But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harry to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble. 

"Must get on -- lots ter buy. Come on, Harry."

Hagrid grinned at Harry. "Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh -- mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

Michael Zabini, snickering, remarked, "Of course Quirrell was trembling. He's probably terrified of anything that isn't a book. The guy's a walking wreck."

Emmeline Vance, teasingly, said, "I bet Harry's wondering how he ended up with the most eccentric guide in all of wizarding Britain."

"Is he always that nervous?"

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience.... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag -- never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject now, where's me umbrella?"

Anastasia Granger, quietly, said, "You don't get that nervous for no reason. I'm starting to think there's a darker side to Quirrell's story."

Vampires? Hags? Harry's head was swimming. Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.

"Three up... two across he muttered. "Right, stand back, Harry."

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

The brick he had touched quivered -- it wriggled -- in the middle, a small hole appeared -- it grew wider and wider -- a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

Christian Walker, laughing softly, said, "You know, I've seen it done, but it still gets me every time. 

"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."

 He grinned at Harry's amazement. They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall.

Lily Evans, with a soft sigh of relief, said, "I always dreamed of this for my kids. I just wish I could be there with him to see it firsthand."

Professor McGonagall, looking at the scene with an amused expression, said, "Honestly, I still love watching first years' reactions to the magic. Diagon Alley never gets old."

Harry's heart raced as he walked beside Hagrid, his eyes wide with wonder. The cobbled streets of Diagon Alley were filled with chatter, laughter, and the sound of magical objects clinking together. Everywhere Harry looked, something new and extraordinary seemed to jump out at him. The shops were strange and marvelous—some with towering shelves filled with glowing jars, others with odd, shimmering potions bubbling out of their windows. Harry had never seen anything like it before.

Remus Lupin, his eyes wide with awe, said, "I forgot how amazing Diagon Alley is, even the entryway. I bet Harry's eyes are popping out of his head right now."

"I still can't believe I'm here," Harry muttered, barely able to contain his excitement.

Hagrid, looking down at him with a grin, patted him on the back. "Well, it's all real, Harry. You've only seen a fraction of it so far."

Benjy Fenwick, grinning, said, "You can't help but get excited when you see Diagon Alley for the first time. I can't wait to see what Harry thinks of all the shops and magic."

Harry, though still overwhelmed, couldn't stop himself from peering at every shop window they passed. When they reached the imposing marble structure of Gringotts, Harry paused, staring at the giant doors. It was like walking into a building that belonged in a fairy tale, except it was all real.

Rowen Avery, eyes bright with excitement, remarked, "I remember that feeling! It's like the world opens up, and it's all so new and magical. I bet his heart is racing with wonder."

"Come on then, Harry. No time to waste!" Hagrid called over his shoulder, urging Harry to follow him. Inside, goblins with sharp, beady eyes and pointed ears scurried about, their hands moving quickly over papers and coins. The air smelled faintly of dust and parchment, and the metallic clink of coins could be heard from every direction.

Amelia Bones, added, "It's so massive. Gringotts always felt like it had a life of its own, with its high marble walls and that air of mystery."

"Come on, Harry, this way," Hagrid said, leading him toward a goblin standing behind a desk.

Ted Tonks, smiling gently, added, "I think Harry's still trying to make sense of everything. But he'll catch up soon. It's just a lot to absorb."

"Good morning," Hagrid greeted a goblin at the counter. "We're here to withdraw some money from Mr. Harry Potter's vault."

"Do you have the key, sir?" the goblin asked briskly.

Dorea Potter raised an eyebrow, "Wait a minute, how did Hagrid end up with that key?

Charlus Potter, looking equally puzzled, leaned closer, "I know! But how? How could he have it?"

James Potter, added. "Honestly, he probably got it from Dumbledore." 

"Got it here somewhere," Hagrid replied, rummaging through his oversized pockets. He began piling their contents onto the counter, scattering a few stale dog biscuits across the goblin's ledger. The goblin's nose wrinkled in distaste as Harry observed another goblin nearby meticulously weighing a heap of rubies that shimmered like embers.

Frank Longbottom, laughing, remarked, "Hagrid's pockets are like the Hogwarts Express—just when you think it's done, something new pops out. It's a wonder anything's ever in order!"

"Aha! Here it is," Hagrid finally declared, holding up a small, golden key triumphantly.

The goblin inspected the key closely before nodding. "Everything appears to be in order."

"And I've also got a letter from Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid added with an air of importance, puffing out his chest. "It's about... the item in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin took the letter, scanning its contents carefully before handing it back. "Very well," he said. "I'll have someone escort you to both vaults. Griphook!"

Fabian Prewett leaned forward, raising an eyebrow at the exchange. "A letter from Dumbledore about something in vault 713? That's intriguing. Do you think it has something to do with... well, you know, the dark times?"

Another goblin stepped forward, sharp-eyed and efficient. Once Hagrid had stuffed the dog biscuits back into his pockets, he and Harry followed Griphook toward a set of doors leading out of the main hall.

"What's in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Can't tell yeh that," Hagrid said with a meaningful look. "It's top secret. Hogwarts business. Professor Dumbledore's put his trust in me, and it'd be more than my job's worth to spill the beans."

Remus Lupin, thoughtfully, said, "You know, there's something about that vault that feels... off. Maybe there's definitely something more to it than we know."

Griphook held the door open, leading them into a narrow stone passage lit by flaming torches. The floor was lined with rails, and when Griphook whistled, a cart came racing toward them. They climbed in—Hagrid with some difficulty—and sped off down twisting tracks.

Harry tried to keep track of the turns—left, right, middle fork—but the cart seemed to steer itself, rattling through tunnels at breakneck speed. The rushing air stung his eyes, and once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage, but they plunged deeper before he could confirm it. They zipped past an underground lake with towering stalactites and stalagmites.

"What's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?" Harry shouted over the noise.

"Stalagmite's got an 'm,'" Hagrid managed, looking pale. "Don't ask me questions now—I think I'm gonna be sick."

When the cart finally stopped by a small door, Hagrid leaned against the wall, his knees shaking. Griphook unlocked the door, and green smoke billowed out. As it cleared, Harry gasped at the piles of gold, silver, and bronze inside.

"All yours," Hagrid said, grinning.

Sirius Black, grinning widely, said, "Now that's the kind of inheritance I would've loved to get! I'm sure Harry was feeling a mix of shock and excitement. Imagine having that much money when you've barely had a proper breakfast!"

Harry stared in disbelief. The Dursleys would've emptied this vault in a heartbeat if they'd known about it. Hagrid helped him fill a small bag.

"Gold ones are Galleons," Hagrid explained. "Seventeen Sickles to a Galleon, twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle. That'll cover a couple terms."

"Vault seven hundred and thirteen now," Hagrid added, groaning. "And slower, please?"

"Only one speed," Griphook said firmly.

The cart shot deeper, colder air biting at them. They crossed a ravine, and Harry tried to peer over the edge before Hagrid pulled him back. Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

Evan Rosier, grinning , said, "I would've loved the thrill of that ride. But poor boy, probably thinking, 'What on earth have I gotten myself into?' First a giant, now a deep ravine—his life's one wild ride already!"

Pandora Lovegood rolled her eyes , hearing her brother's comment.

"Stand back," Griphook instructed, stroking the door. It melted away.

"If anyone but a goblin tried, they'd be trapped," Griphook said with a sharp grin. "We check every ten years or so."

Everyone grimaced at that.

Inside, Harry saw no treasures—just a small, wrapped package. Hagrid tucked it into his coat without a word, and Harry knew better than to ask.

Ivanna Rosier, eyes narrowing in curiosity, said, "Now, that's suspicious. No treasures? Just a small, wrapped package? There's more to that than meets the eye. 

"Back in the cart," Hagrid muttered. "And don't talk—I need to keep my mouth shut."

One wild ride later, they emerged into the sunlight. Harry clutched his money bag, overwhelmed by the sheer wealth he now had. It was more than he'd ever dreamed of.

Their next stop was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where Harry was fitted for his school robes. He stood still, trying to soak in everything around him. The shop was busy with students and their families, all trying on robes for the upcoming term.

James Potter laughed from where he sat "First time in the robes, eh, Harry? He is gonna look great!" His voice was full of fondness, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. "I remember my first fitting. Those robes were way too big for me, I practically tripped over them for a week."

Hagrid squeezed past a crowd, grinning. "You go on and get fitted, Harry. I'll take care of the books."

The shop was small but cozy, with bolts of fabric stacked neatly along the walls and robes of every size hanging from rails.

"Ah, Hogwarts, dear?" asked Madam Malkin, bustling toward him with a warm smile.

"Yes," Harry replied, glancing around.

"Stand here, then," she instructed, guiding him to a stool. "I'll just get your measurements sorted."

Evan Rosier, lounging nearby, couldn't help but snicker. "Robes, huh? What a way to kick off the adventure." 

Regulus Black raised an eyebrow, his smirk never fading. "Yeah, because there's nothing better than looking like a walking curtain."

As Harry climbed up, the sound of voices floated in from the side. Two boys, already being fitted, were chatting animatedly. One was a pale blond with sharp, aristocratic features; the other had dark chestnut curls with a more relaxed demeanor.

Lucius and Narcissa shared a glance, having a hunch that the blond boy is definitely their future son. Narcissa is overcomes with emotion, that after a number of miscarriage she got to have a son.

James Potter leaned forward immediately, smirking. "Let me guess—Malfoy. That blond hair, that attitude. Yep, that's gotta be a Malfoy. Probably already sizing up who he can boss around."

Sirius Black barked a laugh. "Definitely a Malfoy. You can smell the smugness from here. And who's the other one? He looks like he's auditioning for the role of 'Malfoy's Most Agreeable Sidekick."  He grinned, his tone dripping with mockery. "Bet they're already talking about blood purity or broomsticks." He shot a glance at Regulus with a teasing grin. "What do you think, little brother? Does he remind you of anyone?"

Regulus shot Sirius a withering glare but didn't dignify the teasing with a response. 

Peter Pettigrew, glancing nervously at the scene, mumbled, "I wouldn't want to meet someone like that on my first day. It's intimidating enough without someone looking down their nose at you."

Narcissa crossed her arms, coming to her son's and cousin's defense. "You're all really that threatened by two eleven-year-old?" She let the question hang in the air for a moment, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "How very brave of you."

James, ever quick to react, leaned back with a shrug, though his grin faltered slightly. "Threatened? Hardly. Just...calling it like we see it."

"Oh, I don't know,"  Ana mused, her tone light but her gaze calculating. "If I were them, I'd be thrilled you're wasting so much energy talking about me. Just about to start Hogwarts, and already the center of attention. Sounds like a win to me."

Eva chuckled, tilting her head toward Ana. "Right? It's almost impressive how much time you're dedicating to these kids. Makes you wonder what kind of first impression you're making."

Sirius scoffed, crossing his arms. "Oh, come on. He's a Malfoy. You know what they're like—arrogant, conniving, always looking for a way to make themselves look better."

Laurel's soft laugh carried across the room, sharp and deliberate. "Sirius, you're describing yourself more than him." Her words were accompanied by a subtle tilt of her head, her expression one of faint amusement. "Projection is a fascinating thing, isn't it?"

Ester cut in, smirking as she crossed her arms. "You know, Sirius has a point. Malfoy or not, that kid's already got that 'I'm better than you' look down pat. It's uncanny."

"Enough!" Elanor's voice cut through the room like a whip. She stepped forward, her presence commanding as she glared at both Sirius and Ana. "That's enough out of all of you. This isn't about anyone's family, legacies, or whatever rivalry you think you're continuing." She looked pointedly at Sirius. "And it's not a competition to see who can one-up the other."

The room fell silent, tension crackling like a lingering spell.

After a moment, Elanor softened her tone. "Look, we're supposed to be better than this. He's just a kid. Maybe let him figure out who he is before you decide who he's going to be, yeah?"

James exchanged a glance with Sirius, who let out a long breath and muttered, "Fine. Whatever."

The blonde boy looked Harry up and down before stepping forward. "Are you going to Hogwarts?" he asked, his voice casual, though there was a glint of something in his eyes.

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling a bit thrown off. "I am."

"Well, of course you are, otherwise you wouldn't be here," the other boy said matter-of-factly, causing the blond boy to glare at him.

"Shut up Theo". He then turned towards Harry. "I'm Draco" He gestured toward the other boy. "And that's Theo. We're first years too."

"Harry," he replied simply.

Sirius and James shared a look of disbelief; future Slytherins behaving this way, especially a Malfoy, was as unexpected as it was unsettling.

The slight upward curve of Ana's lips betrayed her smug satisfaction; she didn't need to say a word—her point had been made.

Draco didn't seem to notice his hesitation. "My father's off at the broom shop. He's been looking at the new Nimbus model. My mother's next door, examining cauldrons—said the pewter ones were too basic. She always has standards." Draco paused, glancing at Harry. "Have you got your things yet?"

The other boy, the brunette, snorted softly. "Yes, Draco, we all know your family's taste is impeccable." He glanced over and waited for Harry's response.

"Not yet," Harry admitted.

Before Draco could launch into more, Theo interrupted with a laugh. "Slow down, Draco. You're overwhelming him." He turned to Harry with a smirk. "Don't mind him. He's just in one of his 'I'm better than everyone' moods. Besides I am much more fun to talk to, if you ask me."

Fabian laughed loudly, slapping the arm of his chair. "I like this Theo kid! He's got a good sense of humor, doesn't let Draco get away with the nonsense.

Draco scowled, looking annoyed, but Theo didn't seem to care.

Gideon Prewett, smirking, added, "Harry looks like he's trying not to laugh. He probably doesn't know if Draco's serious or just dramatic."

"Draco's just upset because they won't let first years bring brooms to school," Theo continued, clearly enjoying the situation. "He's throwing a tantrum about it, but don't worry, it's not a big deal."

"I wasn't throwing a fit," Draco said indignantly, his pale cheeks flushing slightly. "It's an outrage. First years should be allowed to join the Quidditch teams. It's ridiculous."

Theo rolled his eyes. "You'd think he was planning to be the next Quidditch star. He hasn't even been sorted yet."

Draco crossed his arms with a scowl. "It's a violation of basic rights! And if they had any sense, they'd let first-years try out."

Rabastan Lestrange leaned back with a grin. "Classic. Blondie's definitely got the Malfoy dramatics down. 'Violation of basic rights'? Merlin, he's barely twelve and already lobbying for broom privileges."

Barty Crouch, chuckling, added, "Theo's clearly the comic relief. I like him. He might keep Draco from taking himself too seriously."

Theo chuckled and gave Harry a look that clearly said, Look at what I have to deal with.

Harry smiled awkwardly, unsure what to say. It was clear the two were friends, but their teasing was beyond him.

Peter Pettigrew said nervously. "It's a bit much, isn't it? Poor Harry probably doesn't know what to think of them."

"So, which house do you want to be in?" Draco asked, as though it were the most important question in the world.

Harry, taken off guard, shrugged. "I don't really know. I guess I'll find out."

"No one knows before the Sorting," Draco said, looking thoughtful. "But I'm hoping for Slytherin. My whole family's been in Slytherin. We're the best, obviously."

Theo nodded. "Same here. Though..." He smirked at Draco. "I'm not entirely sure about you, Malfoy. You might just end up in Hufflepuff. You get awfully whiny when things don't go your way."

Royce McLaggen, laughing loudly, added, "Whiny? This Theo kid knows how to hit where it hurts! Hufflepuff for Malfoy—what a sight that'd be."

Chris smirked. "It's interesting. They're already so wrapped up in house rivalries before even being sorted. Makes me wonder if Theo's half-serious or just enjoying riling Draco up."

"Hufflepuff?" Draco repeated, horrified. "As if! You're more likely to land in Gryffindor with your recklessness."

Theo's eyes widened dramatically. "Don't curse me like that, Draco. My father would faint."

Frank Longbottom, grinning, leaned over to Alice. "This reminds me of our first trip to Hogwarts. You remember how everyone was obsessed with where they'd end up?"

Alice Fortescue smiled warmly. "I do. But I don't remember anyone being quite as dramatic about it as them. It's amusing to see Harry taking it all in stride."

Fabian Prewett chuckled. "Imagine if Malfoy did end up in Hufflepuff. His face would be worth a hundred Galleons."

Gideon Prewett nudged his brother, grinning. "He'd probably throw a tantrum and demand a re-sorting."

As they bickered, Harry watched, amused and slightly confused. He wasn't sure what they were talking about, but the back-and-forth between them was entertaining.

"Mr. Nott!" Madam Malkin called.

"What! He is Nott. How in the name of Salazar was this kid related to Thoros." cried a surprised Andromeda.

Meanwhile Rowen was looking at the one would  probably be her son, if her betrothal with the Nott heir was anything to go by.

"Finally," Theo said, stepping down. "Enjoy your measuring, Draco. Don't terrorize the new guy."

Laurel Parkinson, grinning, remarked, "Theo's got a point. Draco's a handful, but at least Theo isn't afraid to call him out on it. Still, I bet he's not going to stop acting like he owns the place."

Anastasia laughing added, "That's all part of his charm."

Draco ignored him, turning to Harry instead. "Where are your parents?"

Harry hesitated. "They're dead," he said quietly.

For the first time, Draco seemed at a loss for words. "Oh," he said, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "Sorry, I suppose."

Esther Reed, with a frown, said, "That's... an uncomfortable question. Draco doesn't seem to realize just how personal and painful that could be for Harry."

Alyssandra stiffened, her gaze flicking to Esther with a quick flash of irritation. She shot back sharply, "That's because  Draco doesn't know anything! He's just a kid himself. He's not intentionally trying to hurt Harry." Her voice was clipped, her words edged with frustration."

There was an awkward pause.

Draco cleared his throat, clearly searching for something to say. "What's your full name?"

Before Harry could answer, they hear a  woman's voice calling "Dragon!"

Hearing that both Lucius and Regulus turned to Narcissa with identical incredulous looks but she paid them no mind. 

Draco stiffened, his ears turning pink. "Coming, Mother!" He turned towards the door, muttering like "I've told her not to call me that," before striding off toward the door.

Rabastan Lestrange, snorting with laughter, said, "Oh, I'm sure he LOVES that nickname. His blush says it all."

Theo, finished with his fitting, followed with a cheeky grin. "See you at Hogwarts, Harry."

Madam Malkin called Harry for his measurements.

Once Harry had finished with his measurements, he walked out of the shop, where Hagrid was waiting with a big grin on his face, holding a cage with a snowy white owl inside. It is your birthday gift Harry, he said. 

Lily Evans, her voice soft with emotion, added, "An owl... That's so thoughtful of Hagrid."

When they had left the shop, he said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"

James Potter, eyes lighting up, grinned widely, "Oh boy! Quidditch! That's the best sport in the world! I can already tell Harry's going to fall in love with it."

"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like -- like soccer in the Muggle world -- everyone follows Quidditch -- played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls -- sorta hard ter explain the rules."

"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

Sirius Black, laughing with a shake of his head, added, "Slytherin? Don't worry, Harry. I'm sure you'll never end up there. They're all about power"

Anastasia's brow furrowed as she crossed her arms, her tone sharp. "What's wrong with being in Slytherin?" she asked defensively, glancing  at Sirius. "Ambition, power... what's wrong with wanting to be the best? Not everyone has to play by the rules."

"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but --"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff" said Harry gloomily. 

James Potter with a mischievous grin, said, "Hufflepuff? Oh, please, Harry, you're too brave for that. They're sweet, but I don't think you're going to end up there. You've got the Gryffindor spirit in you, I can feel it."

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."

Aldrin Rosario leaned against the wall, shaking his head. "It's ridiculous, isn't it? The way people treat Slytherins like they're all villains just because of the house they're in."

Jaxon Rosier snorted. "Yeah, like ambition and cunning are automatically bad."

"You're just bitter because no one appreciates your 'cunning,'" Camille, sneered. "Slytherins always think they're so much better than the rest of us."

Laurel Parkinson shot her an amused look. "Really? So you think Gryffindors are all saints? But sure, keep thinking Slytherins are the problem."

Lily, folded her arms. "It's just that Slytherins will do anything to get ahead—step on anyone, make deals with the wrong people... you can't pretend that's not true."

Liam, Marlene's brother, scoffed. "Yeah, and we're supposed to forget how many dark wizards came from your house? At least Gryffindors do what's right, not what's easiest."

Evan Rosier leaned in, his voice smooth. "Sure, until doing what's 'right' ends up being wrong—it's easy to pretend you're the hero when you have everyone backing you up, huh?"

Selena Rowle chuckled. "Exactly. But let's be real, it's just easier to blame Slytherins because they're always the ones who think outside the box. You'd all rather just stay in the 'good guy' lane than acknowledge that not everyone fits into those neat little boxes."

The Gryffindors exchanged uneasy glances, clearly thrown off balance by their argument. After a beat, Liam scoffed and shook his head.

"Whatever," he muttered. "You'll always defend them."

"Vol-, sorry - You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"

"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid. 

The rest of the shopping trip was a blur of excitement. Harry followed Hagrid through the bustling streets, picking up everything he needed for school. But as they passed a bookshop, Harry caught a flash of brown curls through the window—a brief glimpse, but it stopped him dead in his tracks.

Sirius Black, with a grin, said, "Ah, the ol' friend-from-the-past moment, eh? Must've been a shock seeing something that reminded you of her here in Diagon Alley."

For a second, Harry thought he might have seen Mia, but the curls quickly disappeared. He frowned, his heart skipping a beat. Could it really have been her? It was hard to believe, but for a moment, he felt a pang of guilt—he hadn't thought about her in so long. He peered inside the shop, but there was no sign of her.

Advik Patel, with a smirk, teased, "Ah, I see, Potter. I think you're feeling a bit sentimental."

"Harry?" Hagrid's voice called from ahead, and Harry quickly turned away, shaking off the strange feeling. "Come on, we've got more shopping to do."

As they walked on, Harry tried to push the thought of Mia out of his mind. He had enough to focus on now, like getting his wand.

The last shop on the list was a narrow, dusty place with peeling gold letters over the door reading Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Inside, the air tingled with a quiet magic that made Harry's skin prickle. Hagrid squeezed onto a spindly chair as Harry gazed at the towering stacks of narrow boxes.

A soft voice broke the silence. "Good afternoon."

Cecilia Bones, with a playful grin, said, "Ollivander! I always knew this moment was coming. Nothing like the first meeting with the wandmaker. Bet Harry's heart skipped a beat when that voice came out of nowhere."

Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. 

An old man with wide, moonlit eyes emerged from the shadows. "Ah, Harry Potter," the man said, stepping closer. "I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Yes, yes..." He studied Harry's face with unnerving focus. "You have your mother's eyes. Lily Evans—ten and a quarter inches, willow, swishy. Excellent for charms work. I remember it well."

James Potter, smiling with pride, said, "Ah, my Lily flower. I always knew her wand was something special. He's right about that willow. She was brilliant with charms. I remember all the times she'd charm something just to show off."

Lily blushed hearing that.

Harry blinked as the man leaned even closer.

"Your father's wand, on the other hand, was mahogany. Eleven inches. Pliable. A powerful wand, good for transfiguration. Of course," the man added, his voice softening, "it is the wand that chooses the wizard."

Remus Lupin, nodding, said, "James was always the natural at Transfiguration, and his wand was the perfect fit. The man always had a bit of a show-off streak, doesn't he, always ready to leap into action."

James was beaming now.

Harry took a small step back as the man's pale gaze lingered on his scar.

"And there," he murmured, raising one long, pale finger to touch Harry's forehead, "is the mark of the other wand. Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. A powerful wand, yes... but in the wrong hands, terribly so. I'm sorry to say I sold it." His voice dropped into a whisper.

Mostly everyone flinched at that.

Hagrid cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly on the fragile chair.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid!" The man turned sharply, his voice suddenly warm. "Sixteen inches, oak, rather bendy. A fine wand."

"It was," Hagrid said, looking sheepish.

"I assume they snapped it when you were expelled?"

Hagrid shuffled his feet. "Er—yes, sir. Got the pieces, though. Uh.. Harry I will wait outside".

Xenophilius Lovegood, chuckling, said, "Yeah, Hagrid's wand was never exactly a 'textbook' kind of wand. But of course, Ollivander would remember it. He's got that uncanny ability to recall every wand he's ever sold, and Hagrid's was no exception."

Ollivander's sharp eyes flicked to Hagrid's pink umbrella, but he said nothing, instead returning his attention to Harry.

"You can't hide a wand from it's maker", said Yvette Osborne.

"Now then, Mr. Potter. Let's find your match."

He pulled a long silver tape measure from his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er—right," Harry said, holding it out.

The tape measure sprung to life, measuring him from every angle—shoulder to fingertip, wrist to elbow, round his head, and even between his nostrils—without Ollivander needing to touch it.

"Every wand at Ollivanders contains a magical core," Ollivander explained as he searched the shelves. "Unicorn hair, phoenix tail feather, or dragon heartstring. No two wands are the same, just as no two magical creatures are quite the same."

Selena Rowle, with a knowing look, said, "Ah, there it is. The famous line. Ollivander's right, of course."

The tape measure crumpled into a heap as Ollivander handed Harry a wand.

"Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Give it a wave."

Harry waved it, but Ollivander snatched it back almost immediately.

"No, no. Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy."

The pattern continued—wand after wand was placed in Harry's hand, only to be pulled back just as quickly. The pile of discarded wands on the spindly chair grew higher.

Everyone was exited for Harry to get his wand.

"Tricky customer!" Ollivander said, looking delighted. "Not to worry. Let's try... holly and phoenix feather. Eleven inches. Nice and supple."

Ella Montgomery, with a reflective look, said, "It's always interesting to see how a wand fits with a person's magic. There's something deeply personal about the way a wand and its owner connect."

Harry took the wand, and immediately, a warmth spread through his fingers. He raised it, and red and gold sparks erupted from the tip, showering the shop in glittering light.

"Bravo!" Ollivander cried, clapping his hands. "Yes, indeed! Very good."

Dorea Potter, glancing at Ella, said, "Look at that. It's like it was meant for him. The sparks, the light—it's like magic recognizes Harry as much as he's discovering it. There's a beauty in seeing a wand come to life with its owner."

Harry grinned, but Ollivander's expression turned thoughtful.

"How curious," he murmured, wrapping the wand in brown paper.

"What's curious?" Harry asked, his smile fading.

"The phoenix whose feather is in your wand gave just one other feather. That feather resides in the wand that gave you your scar." Ollivander's pale eyes met Harry's. "It is curious that you should be destined for this wand, when its brother..." He trailed off.

Mary McDonald, her tone slightly more serious than usual, remarked, "It's all too... coincidental, right? The same wand core. That's got to mean something. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. I mean, Harry doesn't need that kind of pressure, does he?"

Harry swallowed.

"The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. I think we can expect great things from you. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things—terrible, yes, but great."

Everyone has varying degrees of reactions. Curious, Sad, Serious, Terror etc.

Unsettled, Harry paid seven Galleons and rushed out off the shop.

Harry was still buzzing with excitement as he stepped out of Ollivanders. He couldn't stop staring at the wand in his hand, a beautiful piece of holly with a phoenix feather core. Every now and then, he'd give it a subtle flick, watching sparks of red and gold burst forth like tiny fireworks.

People chuckled at his excitement.

But Harry wasn't paying attention. His eyes were fixed on the wand, marveling at how perfectly it fit in his hand. He didn't notice the figure coming toward him until it was too late.

Thud!

Alice Fortescue, chuckling, said,  "I bet he's still getting used to the idea that things are real now, that he's part of this world. And who could blame him? I know I'd be distracted if I were in his shoes—except I'd probably trip over my own feet."

Harry stumbled backward, nearly dropping his wand.

"Oh, sorry!" Harry gasped, looking up.

The man he'd bumped into was in his early thirties, with neatly combed brown hair and sharp blue eyes. He was holding the hand of a young girl with strikingly similar features, her long brown hair tied back in a loose braid. The man steadied Harry, a light laugh escaping him.

From across the hall, Evanka's voice broke the silence, filled with playful shock. "No way! Is that—is that really Hyperion?"

Hyperion, in shock, raised an eyebrow as he watched the scene unfold. He couldn't believe his eyes, and for a moment, he just stared at the man- someone he would grew up to be. 

Jaxon, grinning was unable to hide his amusement. "Well, well, well. If it isn't our  champion, looking all grown up with a little one by his side. Who would've thought?"

Anastasia, still trying to process what she was seeing, couldn't resist laughing. "My platonic soulmate , I didn't think you had it in you. Fatherhood, eh? Tell us, did you always picture yourself with a little one running around?" she winked, sparing a glance at Laurel. "And I bet the future Mrs. Hyperion's just as charming as ever."

Hyperion, trying to maintain his composure but clearly flustered, ran a hand through his hair. "What do you mean, grown up? I—I wasn't planning for any of this! You know, its future... and all that, I... uh..." He scratched the back of his neck, still in disbelief. "You guys... don't start. Not now, please."

Breanna, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion, said, "I can already see it now, Hyperion. A little family of your own, spending afternoons reading stories to your daughter. I wonder who's the real softie in the relationship?" She teased gently.

Hyperion, exasperated but secretly amused, could only shake his head. "Alright, alright. Let's just focus on the task at hand, yeah? We'll talk about this later." But even he couldn't help but laugh as he scold off his friends, knowing this would be the subject of their banter for the foreseeable future.

Andrew, with a smirk, called after him. "Don't worry, we'll hold you to it. And do tell us when the wedding date is, mate!"

"No harm done," the man said kindly, brushing a speck of dust from Harry's shoulder. "Wand excitement, is it? I've seen that look before."

"How Polite", Laurel teased looking at Hyperion, to which he rolled his eyes.

Harry flushed. "Yeah... I just got it." He held it up, unsure if the man would be impressed or laugh.

The man chuckled. "No worries. Excitement's expected from first years. My oldest daughter, Daphne, has got the same spring in her step."

"Oh my god! He got many kids guys," Natasha said, nudging Alyssandra.

"Who would have thought Hyperion 'I don't like relationship' Greengrass would marry and have two kids...or more." said Leanne.

The little girl giggled and tugged on the man's hand. "Daddy, I too want a wand."

"AWW, My god daughter is soo cute." said Ana to which Hyperion raised him eyebrow as if  asking 'whose god daughter'.

The man laughed softly. "Yes Tori, You will also get one when it's your time. 

"Well, clearly we know who the softie is". said Phillipe while bumping Laurel with his shoulder causing her to glare at him.

Harry smiled awkwardly, introducing himself. "I'm Harry."

'So, he somehow know about Harry' was the thought passing through James, lily, Sirius... 

The man's eyes flickered for a moment before he masked the reaction with a friendly smile. "Nice to meet you, Harry. I'm Hyperion."

We know was the response of all the Illvemorny chaps

"And I'm Astoria," the little girl chimed in, smiling up at Harry. "I'll be there at Hogwarts soon too!"

"WHAT" shouted Priscilla Hawthorne, and if looks could kill, Hyperion would have been dead by now. 

"Where are you headed now, Harry?" Hyperion asked, his tone conversational.

"Back to Hagrid," Harry replied, glancing over his shoulder.

"Hagrid, you say?" He seemed momentarily thoughtful, but he smiled again quickly. "Well, do give my regards. And remember, excitement's fine—just keep an eye on where you're going."

"Thanks," Harry said, still a little flustered.

Hyperion patted him on the shoulder. "Good luck at Hogwarts, Harry."

"Bye!" Astoria chirped, waving.

"Bye!" Harry said, giving her a small wave before hurrying back toward Hagrid, who was waiting patiently a few steps away.

Elenore Ferre, thoughtfully, said to Alphard Black , "There's something endearing about that—young witches and wizards just starting out, filled with that excitement and anticipation. It reminds me of how things were for us when we were first learning."

The late afternoon sun dipped low as Harry and Hagrid retraced their steps through Diagon Alley, the Leaky Cauldron, and into the bustling streets. Harry barely noticed the curious looks they drew on the Underground, the snowy owl asleep in its cage on his lap. It wasn't until Hagrid nudged him at Paddington Station that he realized where they were.

"Got time fer a bite before yer train," Hagrid said, leading him to a café.

Over hamburgers on plastic seats, Harry sat quietly, his mind churning. The day had been incredible, yet a knot of uncertainty lingered.

"Oh Food! Joy!" exclaimed Peter

"You all right, Harry? Yer awfully quiet," Hagrid asked gently.

Harry hesitated before answering, "Everyone thinks I'm special, but I don't know anything about magic. They expect so much... and I can't even remember what I'm famous for."

Tears welled up in Lily's eyes as she whispered, "Oh, Harry... you've spent so long feeling alone, and now you're being thrown into a world that expects the impossible from you. I wish I could hold you, tell you that you don't have to be anything but yourself. You are enough, just as you are."

Hagrid leaned in, his kind smile softening his rough features. "Don't fret, Harry. Yeh'll learn, same as everyone else. Just be yerself. Hogwarts'll be the best thing that's ever happened to yeh—trust me on that."

When it was time, Hagrid helped Harry onto the train and handed him an envelope.

"Yer ticket for Hogwarts. First o' September, King's Cross. If the Dursleys give yeh trouble, send me a letter with yer owl—she'll find me. See yeh soon, Harry."

Remus Lupin, nodding thoughtfully, added, "Hogwarts wasn't just a school for us—it was home. And for Harry, it will be too. He may not know it yet, but he's about to find the place where he truly belongs."

As the train pulled away, Harry pressed his nose to the window, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Hagrid. But when he blinked, the towering figure had already disappeared into the crowd.

"Is it me or does anyone think that Hagrid forgot to mention how the find platform platform no 9 3/4." said a Ravenclaw Prefect.

"Well, Shit..."

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A/n: Hello again, I am finally back with a new update. 🥰

Don't forget to let me know how it was like. 😁😇

Pls vote and comment. 🙏🏻🫂