The memories were difficult to think about: Harry had entered his life when it was at its bleakest. The year before Harry’s arrival had been painful. His father, of course, had died fighting Cell, and had chosen to stay in the afterlife. His mother had learned she was pregnant less than a month later. Months later, tragedy struck again: the baby was stillborn, but had inflicted great injury to its mother in death, and she’d followed the child into the afterlife. Both were considered natural deaths, and so they were out of Shenron’s reach.
Only days after his mother’s death, the infant Harry had appeared on his doorstep. It was fortunate that Gohan’s maternal grandfather was still alive, as Gohan was still a child himself.
When Harry was six, Gohan had begun teaching him to fight. By the age of eight, Harry had taken over for himself, although he was always supervised. Knowing that the world had to be protected, Gohan had maintained his own training.
At the age of 14, he’d entered the juvenile tournament of the 25th Tenkaichi Budoukai, and won it easily. Three years later, he’d won the adult division. It was at that tournament that he’d met Videl. They’d hit it off in an impromptu date after the tournament, and were married within two months. Videl had moved in with him the day after their wedding, and they’d been a family ever since.
Thinking of the letters made Gohan think of the boy he’d raised. He’d raised Harry to be strong. And so Harry was strong: strong in the mind, strong in the body, and strong in the will. It was hard to say, actually, which of those was the strongest. The physical training he’d started Harry on, and that Harry had continued, had greatly increased the control Harry had of his own magic, and the volume he had. Son Gohan didn’t quite understand magic, but he knew enough about the body to know that if a person’s body was strong, their energy would be strong as well, no matter what sort it was.
“Harry”, Gohan mused to himself. “You will be great. I know it.”
At that thought he once more felt Fawkes’ familiar energies, and felt Harry disappear with him seconds later.
He resolved to ask Dumbledore just how that worked.
~_~
There was a burst of flame, and Harry found himself once more in Dumbledore’s office. He’d been here just yesterday, and had met Dumbledore as well as four of his future teachers. Although, he supposed, one of them hardly counted.
He’d made up his mind the second he got home that if he was sorted into Slytherin, he’d leave. Having lessons with Professor Snape would be bad enough; much less having him as head of house. That would probably drive him mad.
His opinions of the other three were much more favorable. He thought that even if he didn’t like them, he could at least respect them. And he didn’t think that he’d have much trouble liking Professor Flitwick at least: the man’s cheeriness was very inviting. Professor Sprout was similar. Professor McGonagall, he could tell, was very sharp and not to be crossed, but she would probably be fair. He resolved to work as hard as he could in her lessons; not that he would slack off regardless. Gohan had taught him better than that.
His thoughts were interrupted by Dumbledore’s greeting him, and by a knock at the door. In stepped the largest man Harry had ever seen. He was even larger than Gohan’s grandfather, and that was saying something, considering how large Gyuu Mao was. This man had to be as tall as two normal men, and as broad as three.
“Yeh wanted to see me, Professor?” The huge man bent over slightly to fit through the open doorway.
“Yes, Hagrid. I did. Hagrid, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds here at Hogwarts.”
The man named Hagrid looked downward as soon as he heard the name, and saw Harry looking up at him. Harry held out his hand, and Hagrid shook his whole arm.
Harry shrugged. “Good to meet you, Mr. Hagrid.”
Hagrid smiled. “Good ter meet yeh too, Harry. Call me Hagrid. Everyone does. Bin a long time since I saw yeh last. ” He looked over at Dumbledore. “So what did yeh want to see me about, Professor?”
Dumbledore smiled. He pointed to a scroll of parchment on his desk with his wand, and muttered a single word: Portus. “Harry needs his school things. Harry, just grab one end of the scroll and let Hagrid take the other. It will take you where you need to go.”
Harry looked skeptically at the parchment. “How will that scroll take us anywhere?”
Dumbledore nodded. “I have turned it into a Portkey. A Portkey is an item that can transport a person or group of people from once place to another, in an instant. It’s very useful magic.”
Harry nodded. “When can I learn how to do that?”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “You may learn it whenever you find it in a book, but you will not be taught it until after you leave school, and maybe not then.”
Harry saw no importance to the distinction; he’d been teaching himself for years. He shrugged.
Harry put his hands on one end of the scroll, and Hagrid walked over to grip the other. Dumbledore flicked his wand. Harry felt a pulling sensation in his chest, just before he and Hagrid vanished.
The pulling sensation stopped as Harry and Hagrid found themselves in an alleyway between two buildings. There was a rubbish bin on the opposite wall.
“Right. Well, Harry, this is the entrance ter Diagon Alley. You’ll be able ter do this when yeh get yer wand, so fer now watch me.” He began counting bricks above the rubbish bin. “Three up, two across. Right, stand back Harry.” And Hagrid tapped the wall three times, with the umbrella Harry suddenly noticed he held.
The brick he touched quivered and wriggled; a hole appeared in the middle and grew, until it was large enough even for Hagrid. Harry stepped through. When Hagrid stepped through, it closed behind him.
“Welcome ter Diagon Alley, Harry.” The two walked forward down the cobbled street. There were many shops here, Harry noticed, with many very interesting things for sale. He wondered which shops they’d have to buy things at, and then suddenly remembered the list he’d put in his pocket this morning. He began reading through it.
“Can we get all these things here?”
“That an’ more, Harry. First stop is Gringotts though.”
“What’s Gringotts, Hagrid?” Harry had never heard the name.
“It’s a bank, Harry, wizard’s bank. Yeh need to be shown yer vault.”
“I have a vault? Why would I have a vault?” This puzzled him.
Hagrid nodded sadly. “Aye, Harry. It’s what yer parents left fer yeh.” He shook his head. “Good people, yer parents. I knew ‘em well. Yeh’ll meet ‘em one day, but still, it’s a shame yeh’ve never known ‘em. But...it was a war, Harry. It was a war.”
Harry nodded. “I know. Professor Dumbledore told me yesterday. He told me a lot of things.”
Hagrid seemed to be measuring his words. “Dumbledore...will be there fer yeh, Harry. He got me the job as gamekeeper. Great man, Dumbledore.”
Harry thought about pursuing this line of thought, but the look on Hagrid’s face told him the conversation was over.
~_~
When he looked back, even years later, Harry found that he had few memories of the rest of that day. He’d seen so much – done so much – that he had filtered out all but the most important things. Those – meeting Hagrid, meeting Ollivander and getting his wand, seeing his Gringotts vault – stayed with him long after he left school.
He found that once he’d gotten his wand, he never wanted to part with it. It was his. It was a story in itself: eleven inches, holly, phoenix feather core – a core from the same phoenix as the core of Lord Voldemort’s wand. Harry felt that was somehow appropriate: the phoenix that had armed the murderer, armed the avenger as well.
There was only the question, now that he had found his destiny, of when and how he would meet it.
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(Posted Sat, 27 Dec 2003 22:51)
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