1 Prologue

AN: Now then, this is going to be a revamped and rewritten version of my story, To be the absolute best. I shall leave the original up so readers may compare the two should they wish too. I find that I was unable to update the last story as it had not gone the way I had originally planned it to. For example, Harry was not as cold as I had wanted him to be for a few years; he accepted Daphne Greengrass and Tracy Davis way too quickly. And Harry is going to be in Slytherin as the title suggests.

And for anyone wondering, yes I will still be still working on my other story, Harry's war. As I'm quite pleased with how that is going and the reviews I've been getting for that story are very encouraging, thanks for that.


Albus Dumbledore (Supreme Mugwump, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Grand Sorcerer, defeater of the Dark Lord Gellert Grindelwald, Order of Merlin first class and Headmaster of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry) appeared on the end of Privet drive in Surrey with an almost silent pop. As he looked around the quite, dark street bathed in the half moon light, he heaved a heavy sigh. All up and down the country, witches and Wizards were celebrating the fall of the most evil and powerful Dark Lord in Wizarding history, Lord Voldemort. As the leader and founder of the Order of the Phoenix, a group who were dedicated to fighting the Dark Lord and his followers head on in battle, one would expect him be out there celebrating the downfall of Voldemort. However, on this Halloween night, he could not bring himself to celebrate, as two of his all time favourite students and very dear friends had been murdered by Lord Voldemort not five hours ago and their happy bouncing baby boy had been left orphaned when the Dark Lord had turned his wand on the boy, only to find his killing curse rebounding upon him self, destroying his body and forcing his spirit to flee the home. Harry James Potter had not even reached his second birthday, yet before he did he would be famous the world over, known as the only survivor of killing curse, known as the Boy-Who-lived, the hero of the light and the Wizarding world.

And that was why he was here on the Muggle street, while everyone he knew celebrated Voldemort's downfall, Dumbledore was overseeing the transfer of Harry to his Aunt and Uncle's home and hopefully, loving care. While it was true in the fact that there were plenty of Wizarding families that would have been all to happy to raise young Harry in the Wizarding world, Albus felt it was best for Harry to grow up away from the fans, the fame and grow up as a normal child with a normal childhood, without been in the spotlight every time he left his home.

As he reached the bottom of number fours garden wall, he took a quick look round before he took a seat on the low wall. His trusted friend and gamekeeper at Hogwarts was bringing young Harry to his Aunts and Uncle's house, as it was not practical to take a one year old through the Floo-network or use the other transport methods of Apparition or Port-key travel.

"Fancy seeing you here, Professor McGonagall." Dumbledore spoke seemingly to himself as there was not another human being to be seen on the street, only a tabby cat sitting on number six's garden wall. A few moments later, said cat had jumped off the wall and transformed into a rather severe-looking woman mid-jump.

"How did you know it was me?" Asked the woman as she walked towards Dumbledore, fixing her square glasses and emerald green cloak to make sure they were on correctly.

"My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly." Dumbledore answered with a slight soft chuckle as he turned his head slightly to look at McGonagall as she took a seat beside him.

"You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall for the last three hours." McGonagall replied tartly as she sniffed at the old wizard. "When word reached Hogwarts about tonight's attack, I knew this is you'd bring the boy." She said, explaining her reason for been in that neighborhood on that particular night.

"For four hours, when you could have been celebrating, why I must have passed over a dozen feasts and parties on my way here." Dumbledore mussed softly as he looked up at the empty dark sky; if one listened carefully, you could hear a very faint rumbling noise.

Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily. "Oh yes, everyone's celebrating all right, you'd think they'd be a bit more careful." She said impatiently, before the old wizard could comment she continued.

"People could be a little more careful; I heard it on their news." She jerked her head in the direction of the Dursleys dark living-room window. "Flocks of owls… Shooting stars… well, their not completely stupid, their bound to notice Shooting stars in Kent- and I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never did have much sense." Her nostrils flared in her anger and her lips thinned into a very tight line as she finished her little rant.

"You can't blame them Minerva, we've had precious little to celebrate in nearly twelve years." Dumbledore said gently. "It will die down soon, people are just celebrating the fact that hopefully there will be no more death and destruction happening." He explained in a gentle tone that seemed to deflate most of McGonagall's anger.

"I hope you're right." Began McGonagall. "The last thing we need is for the Muggle's to find out about us from people swapping rumors in broad daylight not even dressed as Muggle's." as she said this the Professor threw a sharp sideways look at Dumbledore.

"Are the rumors true? Did Harry really survive the Killing Curse?" McGonagall asked quietly with the slightest disbelief in her voice as she turned her head to look fully at the old wizard.

"Yes, Poppy confirmed it when we went to James and Lily's home." Answered Dumbledore sadly. "All three had been hit with the curse but only Harry survived." He bowed his head silently for the torn-apart family.

"How, how did he survive when no one in history has ever survived that curse?" McGonagall asked in a soft voice, quite unlike the brisk and stern woman.

"As to that I have absolutely no clue." Dumbledore began in a quiet tone. "At first I thought it must have been Lily's love and sacrifice that had protected Harry and then I remembered that countless mother's and father's have sacrificed their lives to save their children and yet their children had not survived the killing curse from either Voldemort or his Death Eaters, I knew that that could not be the answer." His explanation finished he bowed his head once more, remembering all the lost fighters and innocents in the war against Lord Voldemort.

"Do you have any other theories?" McGonagall asked him quietly.

"A few, each more unlikely than the last." He began before looking up at McGonagall. "Perhaps we may never know how or why Harry survived the killing curse tonight." He mussed softly as McGonagall nodded her agreement of his words.

"Harry will be famous in our world won't he?" asked McGonagall, she would not be surprised if today become known as Harry Potter day in the future.

"Oh yes, Harry will be famous, a hero and a Legend, known the world over." Said Dumbledore in a quite, sad tone of voice. "

"And that is the reason why I am having him raised with his Muggle Aunt and Uncle. So he can grow up away from all that, famous before he can even walk and talk, it is enough to turn any one's head, he will be much better off away from all that." Dumbledore explained in that same quiet tone of voice as the faint rumbling had begun to grow louder.

"Are these people really the best you can find for him?" Said McGonagall disgustedly. "I've watched them since I arrived and they are the worst sort of Muggle's imaginable, they…"

"Are the only family he has." Replied Dumbledore, gently interrupting McGonagall. However before either He or McGonagall could speak further, the rumbling that had been growing steadily louder as they had talked suddenly became thunderingly loud; the pair could feel the rumbling in their very bones as their teeth began to chatter slightly until they closed their mouths as they looked up.

Out of the midnight black sky, a huge motorcycle dropped onto the street and came to a screeching halt in front of Number four's garden wall. Sat astride the motorbike was a huge man, who looked to be too big to be aloud. As the man stood from the bike, it was clear that he was twice as tall as a normal human man and three times as wide. The huge man had wild, bushy, tangled black hair and beard, when he removed the goggles from over his eyes; he revealed crinkly beetle-black eyes topped by very bushy eyebrows.

"Good evening Professor Dumbledore sir, Professor McGonagall." Greeted the large man as he got off the bike (which stood up on its own accord) and walked over to the now standing Professor's.

"Good evening Hagrid, no problems I hope." Dumbledore greeted the large man with a gentle smile. The headmaster was quiet tall standing a little over six foot; however, he was dwarfed by Hagrid's height.

"No sir, the little tyke fell asleep right as we were flying over Bristol." Hagrid replied in as quiet a voice as he could, so as not to wake the sleeping baby that was settled snuggly in a baby sling attached to his massive chest.

Dumbledore peered into the sling; just visible was a shock of untidy black hair and a forehead, which had a curiously shaped scar, in the shape of a lightening bolt. The scar was very raw and red, showing just how new it was.

"Is that where-?" Whispered McGonagall as she took notice of the scar.

"Yes, that is where the killing curse struck him." Said Dumbledore sadly as he too looked at the scar. "He'll have that scar forever." He sighed slightly as the boy moved his head slightly, burrowing deeper into Hagrid's chest.

"Couldn't you do something about it?"

"Even if I could I wouldn't, scars can come in useful. I myself have a scar above my left knee that is a perfect map of the London Underground." Dumbledore did not like lying to his oldest friend but he would rather lie then tell the true reason why, he wouldn't or rather couldn't remove the scar on Harry's head, and it wasn't just because it was a curse scar from Dark Magic.

"Well, pass him here Hagrid we may as well get this over with." Hagrid as gently as he could passed Harry into Dumbledore's arms, successfully not waking the baby as he did so. Dumbledore turned and began heading towards the front door of number four, followed by McGonagall and Hagrid.

"Could I – could I say goodbye to him?" Hagrid asked quietly as they reached the front door.

"Of course." Replied Dumbledore as he turned to the large man, some of his eye twinkle coming back into his eyes for the first time since he had found out about Voldemort's attack on the Potter's.

Hagrid then bent his great shaggy head over Harry and gave him a very scratchy, whiskery yet surprisingly tender kiss. "Take care of yourself Harry." He whispered before moving away chocking back a loud sob.

"Good luck Harry Potter." Dumbledore said after he had placed the bundle on the doorstep along with a letter. "Minerva, perhaps you could assist me in placing some wards around them home and garden." He requested, with two of them putting up wards, they would be far stronger and harder for any one wishing to break them down. Hopefully they would be enough to protect Harry and his family in the unlikely event that Death Eaters managed to track him down. Both professors placed warning alarms that would alert them of any one trying to forcefully take down the wards, giving them ample time to respond and aid the little family.

Ten years later

Over the next ten years, Harry was not treated with the love that Dumbledore had hoped and wanted, But with disdain, Loathing and hatred. From the moment he had arrived, he lived in the cupboard under the stairs and until he started eating solids, he was only fed two bottles of very weak milk a day, and when he started eating solids he was fed two meals a day. A small lumpy bowl of porridge in the mornings and small portion of dinner, for lunch he received one slice of dry toast and a glass of water. When he turned four, he was forced to do all the cleaning in the house, everyday and if he missed a spot or a room was not to his Aunt's or Uncle's standards, he would be slapped by either his aunt or uncle before been thrown in his cupboard with no food until the next day. On his fifth birthday, he was forced to do all the gardening along with all the chores around the house, and god forbid if he damaged any of his aunts precious plants. As he got older, the beatings steadily got worse, when he was six his uncle had hit him so hard that he had bounced off the wall before hitting the ground with a concussion before been thrown in his cupboard for three whole days without food or water.

Harry learned very early on too hide his emotions; if he cried during a beating it only made it worse; if he scowled or looked at any of them in a wrong way he was slapped; he was even slapped for smiling as his Aunt and Uncle proclaimed that he could only be up to no good when he was smiling. Yes, Harry Potter learned very early in his life to keep a blank, cold mask on his face wherever he went or whoever he was around be it family, teacher or stranger, Harry's face was a cold blank mask with icy eyes.

He learned also very early on in his schooling, that he would get a severe beating no matter what his grades were like. For example, he had scored the best in his year in a math's test and when his aunt had found out, she had hit him with a frying pan she had been holding at the time, screaming it was all his fault that her precious Dudley received such low marks. That had resulted in his right arm been broken in two places which did not heal for months forcing him to write with his left arm, after a few weeks he had perfected his writing with his left arm and as a result he was now Ambidextrous.

Another example of his schooling beatings had been his uncle beating him after finding out he had done the worst in his year in an English test. After the broken arm from his Aunt, Harry had thought that they did not want him to do well and so to stop some of the beatings, he had deliberately flunked his English test. His uncle had taken his belt to Harry's bare back, for over fives minutes, all the while screaming about how stupid and worthless he was. After that he had realized that they did not truly care about his grades, they were just another excuse for giving him another beating. And so he had begun to study as hard as he could while at school, using the library as a sort of safe haven from his bullying cousin and his gang of thugs; by the time he was eight, his teachers wanted to bump him up to the year ahead; however Harry had been able to talk them out of that as it would result in nothing but trouble with the Dursleys.

However, as well as been cold and emotionless, Harry was also a very charming boy when he wanted to be. He had managed to charm his teachers into giving him his monthly report cards, promising up and down that his Aunt and uncle would receive them as soon as he arrived home, he happily binned the cards as he walked home. He had also charmed his teachers into giving him the letters about parents' evenings, stating that the letters would reach his Aunt and Uncle faster if he delivered them in person which gave the Dursleys time to make sure they were completely free that evening. The letters too were dropped into a bin and after parents evening had come and gone and the Dursleys had not attended, Harry always had the perfect excuse. His uncle had a very important dinner or party of his company's that he simply could not miss. Or a family member was terribly sick or the best, Dudley in his rush had taken a nasty fall and they all went to hospital with him. His teachers never batted an eyelash as he explained with a completely honest look and air about him, promising that the Dursleys very sorry for missing another evening and that they had promised to attend the next parents' evening; they never did nor would they ever attend one. The best part about it was Harry and Dudley had different teachers so when the Dursleys attended Dudley's parent evening, they never bumped into Harry's teachers.

However it was not all bad, excluding the one meal a day and beatings, Harry was able to get some small payback on his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin. Once a week, starting from when he was six, he would steal forty pounds from his uncle's permanently bulging wallet that he left in the living room, thinking Harry would be too scared to steal anything from him. He also stole twenty pounds from his Aunts also permanently bulging purse that she left in the kitchen and ten pounds from his fat-ass Cousin who left his wallet beside the television where he could always find it the next day. Everyday, Harry would walk to school and buy himself a sandwich for his lunch, a chocolate bar, a pack of crisps and a can of pop. He would always save the rest of the money he did not spend on his lunch or food at the weekends and trips to the local cinema as well as the amusement and water parks; so by the time he reached ten years old, Harry had managed to save over three hundred pounds. Which he hid in an old sock after changing the coins into notes. He had no fear of anyone finding them as only he cleaned his cupboard.

As well as stealing money from his family, Harry would steal some food at night when his relatives were asleep in bed, only been unable to steal food when he was beaten and locked in his cupboard. Most of the time when he was not beaten, his cupboard would be left unlocked so he could use the toilet in the cellar and mainly so he could have breakfast ready for them in the mornings when they came down to the kitchen. So instead of been an undernourished, boy, Harry was quite the healthy young boy. As along with the running from his cousin and his gang of thugs during "Harry Hunting" he would sneak out and go for a run every morning before he had to start breakfast, where he usually made himself bacon and sausage buttie's before his "family" came down for breakfast, munching away as he cooked. As he turned nine, Harry started doing press-ups and sit-ups, he only did twenty of each a day but it was better than any of the other students at his school. Moreover, when his cousin became interested in boxing halfway through his ninth year of living with the Dursleys and his uncle got him a small set of weights; Harry would use them every morning. As he reached ten years old, Harry was quite tall for his age at four foot six, and weighing around eighty pounds. His shoulders and chest were quite broad, most if not all of his muscles were solid (Though not too big to be noticed) with not an ounce of fat on him. The old and worn baggy clothes that he wore helped to hide his well toned body as well. He knew it was very unusual for some his age to have such a toned and fit body but he had one passion, to better than the Dursley men, never would he allow himself to become so fat and lazy.

On his eleventh birthday, Harry was just finishing up vacuuming the staircase for the third time that week when a loud knocking sounded at the door.

"Boy, answer the door and if it's a salesman or charity tell them to clear off." Vernon Shouted from his seat in front of the television, it was one of the fat man's rare weekdays off.

Harry opened the door without replying to his uncle. On the threshold he found a rather severe-looking woman dressed in a peculiar outfit. She was wearing a jet-black cloak over forest green robes; on her head was a pointed witch's hat. On her lined face were square glasses and she had styled her black, graying hair into a tight bun.

"Hello Madam, how may I help you?" Harry asked in a cool flat voice, hardly blinking at the woman's attire.

"Good morning, might you be Harry Potter." McGonagall asked as she held back a scowl at Harry's overlarge t-shirt and jeans and the sello-taped glasses.

"Before I confirm or deny that Madam, who might be asking." Harry asked in cold defensive voice. He was ready to bolt should the woman be from the "loony-bin" as the Dursleys called it and had threatened Harry with, stating he would be locked up in a padded room and the key thrown away.

"I'm Professor McGonagall and I work at Hogwarts School." Answered McGonagall in a gentle tone noting Harry's suddenly defensive voice and his stance, that quiet clearly said he was prepared to run if need be.

"Ok goody for you, what is it that you want with Harry Potter?" Harry asked still not confirming that he was Harry Potter or not.

"I have come to offer him a place at Hogwarts School." McGonagall replied, she was quiet sure that the young boy in front of her was Harry Potter.

"Well you best come in then." Harry said as he stood back to allow the woman entry into the house.

"Thank you." McGonagall nodded as she stepped into the, in her opinion far too clean hallway.

"Who is it?" Petunia demanded from the living-room.

"Some Professor or so she claims." Harry answered coolly as he led the woman into the living-room. He was very surprised when his Aunt and Uncle gasped at the sight of her, both turning quiet pale.

"What do you want?" Petunia asked in a fearful voice though she already knew the answer.

"A private talk with Mr. Potter here." Answered McGonagall as she gestured to a surprised Harry. Vernon and Petunia were about to protest loudly, however McGonagall had slipped her wand into her hand and the Dursleys left muttering to themselves, they did not want to be on the wrong end of a wand nor the Professor judging by the burning look she gave them

"Here Mr. Potter." McGonagall held out a letter to Harry once the Dursleys had left and she had turned her attention back to the blank-faced Harry. After a moment's hesitation, Harry took the parchment letter and upon opening it, began to read.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Turning to the second page Harry began to read that one silently, paying no mind to the woman who had seated herself in Vernon's chair and was watching his expression as he stood reading. She expected confusion, shock, out right denial or any other range of emotions to appear over Harry's face, however, his expression remained blank.




First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.


All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)

By Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi

By Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

By Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection

By Quentin Trimble


1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring and owl OR a cat OR a toad.


"I knew that I was special and not a freak." Harry whispered to himself as he finished reading.

"So I'm a wizard then?" he asked as he looked up at the Professor who was looking back at him, clearly not expecting him to ask that first.

"Yes Mr. Potter, you are indeed a Wizard." McGonagall then went on to explain that wizards were hidden from the (Muggle) none magical world. She explained a little bit about Hogwarts and the houses there. She was very surprised that Harry accepted all this without wanting demonstration as proof that what she was telling him was the truth.

"Ok Potter, that's enough for now there will be time for questions later." McGonagall said an hour later even though Harry had asked only three questions. "I shall escort you to Diagon Alley where you will Purchase…" she stopped mid explanation as Harry interrupted her.

"You're coming with me?" Harry interrupted with a slight scowl.

"Certainly…" She was interrupted once more.

"I don't need you." Said Harry. "I'm used to doing things on my own; I go around little Whinging and Surrey on my own all the time. How do you get to this Diagon Alley – Madam?" he added the last almost as an afterthought to appear polite.

For a moment Professor McGonagall was going to insist she accompany Harry to the Alley way but taking one look at his face she knew he would not budge in his decision to make the trip alone and would most likely be most difficult if she forced him to go with her. After a moment she told him exactly how to get to the Leaky Cauldron. "You will be able to see it, although Muggle's that is none Magicals around you will not. Ask for Tom the barman and he will help you get through the archway into Diagon Alley."

Harry nodded his head as she finished her explanation. Then, as though he could not suppress the question, as though it burst from him in spite of himself, he asked. "Were my parents Magical too?"

"Yes you're mother and father was both a Magicals." McGonagall replied her voice once more gentle.

"Then how did they die in a car crash then." Harry demanded to know in a cold tone. "If they were wizards, why did they not save themselves from the car crash?" his tone and eyes both demanded the absolute truth be answered quickly.

"Car Crash?" McGonagall asked raising her eyebrows at both Harry's question and tone of voice.

"I was told that's how they died by them." He jabbed his thumb towards the door the Dursleys had left through when McGonagall first arrived.

"James and Lily Potter were not killed in a car crash; they were murdered by the Dark Lord, He-Who-Must-Not-be-Named." McGonagall was incensed to learn that Harry did not even know how his own parents died. For one fleeting moment, Harry's face was a mask of hate and anger, his eyes burned with an emerald fire but in the blink of an eye his emotionless mask was firmly in place and his eyes once more icy. McGonagall blinked, unsure if Harry's facial expression had even changed at all or if she had imagined the hate and anger.

"So – when I've got all my stuff – when do I come to this Hogwarts?" Harry asked completely changing the subject.

"All the details are on the second piece of parchment." McGonagall began. "You will leave from Kingscross station on the first of September. There is a ticket in there too, with instructions on how to get onto the platform." She then handed him a tiny gold key, explaining how it was the key to his trust vault and how he should first visit Gringotts the wizard bank first upon arrival at the Alley. She explained how the bank was the tallest building, made from white stone at the end of the Ally and how it would take a blind man to miss it.

Harry nodded. McGonagall got to her feet and held out her hand to Harry, who after a moment shook it firmly. "I can talk to snakes, I found out last year when weeding the garden, they find me and talk to me, is that normal for a wizard?"

McGonagall knew that, Harry had withheld mention of that strange power until that moment, determined to impress. "It is unusual." She responded after a moment forcing her self not to grow pale at the mention of talking to snakes. "But not unheard of." One two wizards in history had had that ability; Salazar Slytherin and Tom Riddle aka Lord Voldemort, both very Dark Lords in their time. Was Harry Potter destined to be a Dark Lord also?

End of chapter

AN: So how was it? Please give you thoughts on how/if this start and title is better or worse then the first story. And yes I, most of Harry's talk with McGonagall was ripped right from the Tom Riddle and Albus Dumbledore scene in the HBP book; this is because I want to make Harry and Voldemort even more similar than in cannon. Also I didn't have the Dursleys kick up a stink about McGonagall because I just wanted to get on with Harry being told about being a wizard.

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