Formerly Harry Potter and the wolf boy: Book 1 of the Phoenix series. Harry Potter is a special boy, the wizarding world is about to find out just how special he is
Chapter 1: A change of lifestyle
in which we meet our hero & our hero learns the truth about his life, a visit to the bank is in order
Harry Potter was an interesting young man, but you wouldn’t know that by looking at him. In fact your first impression would be that he was younger than his 11 years, he was small and scrawny, with messy unkempt black hair and glasses that hid his sparkling green eyes and framed his face and drew the attention away from the only blemish on his youthful face, a scar over his left eyebrow, a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. He rarely spoke, and was often caught by his school 'mates' with his head in a book. Harry tended to keep away from the other children who attended his school Little Whinging C of E Primary, as they reminded him of his cousin Dudley. Dudley Dursley was the exact opposite of Harry, Fat instead of Thin, Violent instead of Quiet, A Bully rather than the Victim.
However, Harry Potter was extraordinary not because of his mind (which was sharp), but of the fact that he was a wizard. Since he had been taken in by his Aunt and Uncle, Vernon and Petunia Dursley, aged one, after his parents were 'killed in a car crash whilst drunk' Harry's life had been difficult. Thrown in a cupboard under the stairs for a bedroom, at age 3 he was dusting the house, at age 4 he was scrubbing floors and at age 5 he had been forced to cook all his relatives meals and clean the entire house, yes his life had been difficult. He considered himself lucky however as neither of his relatives had hit him yet, as whenever it seemed they were about to they would get a glazed look and wander outside. Harry noticed he was different on his 9th birthday when, in a desperate attempt to escape Dudley and his gang he had found himself on the school roof. This had caused chaos in the 'normal' Dursley house and he had been called freak ever since. This, however had got him thinking, back to when other strange and seemingly random occurrences had happened and he had come the conclusion that, if he was a freak, he see if he could control his 'freakiness' and make it help him out instead of getting him in trouble. However this was easier said than done and it had taken over a month of tireless exploration to find a place, deep in the heart of the Surrey country side, a good 10 minutes walk away from Privet Drive to sit and ‘practice', it was a small clearing, around 6 feet squared, hidden away in the middle of a copse of young oak and birch trees, the sunlight would flicher through the leaves and branches overhead and there was little sound exceot for the warbling of songbirds. Not knowing where to start he had tried to mimic the 'force' that he had seen the one time when Aunt Petunia had forgotten to lock the cupboard door whilst they were watching a film, however when that failed he went to the one place in Little Whinging that he felt safe, the library however the only books he found there were books on card tricks and large complicated tomes on physic energies, he did however find a few books on meditation and yoga, and not to be deterred he had practiced and practiced, slowing is breathing and trying to find his ‘centre’ until one day, something amazing occurred.
It was 3 in the afternoon, on cold September day, a few months after our hero's 9th birthday and Harry Potter was sitting, legs folded, eyes closed, calmly breathing, ignoring everything when all of a sudden he found himself stood in the middle of what appeared to be Little Whinging Library, but it was different, the windows were boarded over and the selves were dusty and the place looked in disrepair. On top of that instead of the Dewy decimal system there was rows saying things like Maths, History, Life Experience, on and on it went until there was a small isle that said had Magic marked on it in neat cursave scipt that appeared to be blocked by a shinning golden barrier.
Harry was stunned “Magic?” He thought “is that what I can do when I’m angry or scared? Magic? If it is then why can’t I do it all the time, maybe I don’t have enough, maybe it only comes when I need it too, or maybe I have to practise until I can use It and what is that barrier, it stops me from getting to the magic section, who would want to do that, and why would someone block my magic section, am I dangerous or is there something else?” Shrugging the thought aside he continued his exploration of, what he had come to realise was, his mind’s library until he found a section marked “The Past” and deep into the isle was a door, it was black, pulsating with a vile purple light and was oozing a tar like substance onto the floor in a puddle that was slowly expanding. “This looks bad” he thought and tried to scoop up the tar and move it, only for searing pain to lance through his forehead and he awoke sweating in the middle of the clearing in Little Whinging. “Ouch!” said Harry as he rubbed the scar, “I won’t try that gain” before he stood and hurried home to cook the Dursleys’ dinner before uncle Vernon got home from work.
Harry took many more trips into his mind over the next month, trying to break a hole in the block that stopped his access to his ‘magic’ section, until he had managed to make a hole large enough for a hand to reach in and grab a scroll from the shelf. “Controlling yourself and your magic” he read excitedly, his fingers almost trembling, this was it, the beginning to unlocking his freakishness, his magic. Reading through the scroll he found many hints on how to manipulate the core to push magic from his hand to lift objects, and it was then that Harry Potter started to practise, for hours he would relax himself and try and push his magic towards a twig that he had placed on his palm, no matter how little movement there was, he was always sweating and tired afterwards. He made almost no progress for 6 whole months until one day something in his mind shattered and he felt warmth run up his hand and the twig shot into the air, when he tried with another twig he found he could hold it in the air about 3 or 4 inches up from his palm. The next time he went into his mind he felt glass under his feet and saw that the barrier blocking him from the magic section had broken, and he tore through it with earnest. Soon he could control the twig in the air, call it to him or push it away, his mind marvelled with the possibilities of what he could do to larger targets, mainly his cousin Dudley and his sycophantic friend piers but he quickly chasised himself, he was determined to use his powers for good, not evil.
Harry practiced for the rest of the year, gaining more and more control of his magic, he could now move the air around him and change its temperature to compliment the weather, at school and at the Durlsey's nothing really thrilling happened and life continued as normal until Dudley’s 11th Birthday, 5 weeks before Harry’s. Now on previous Dudley birthday’s Harry had been carted off to his neighbour Mrs Figg, which he didn’t really enjoy as she smelt of cats and kept trying to get him to look at pictures of cakes. However this morning was different. “It’s terrible” wailed Aunt Petunia “Mrs Figg has broken her leg and is in hospital, she can’t take the freak, he’ll have to come with us”, “mum!! He can’t come, he’ll ruin everything” screamed Dudley, throwing his arms around in a tantrum, the doorbell suddenly stopped the tantrum as Dudley ran to greet his best friend Piers. On the journey to the zoo Harry was warned many times that if he did any freaky stuffs it was the cupboard for him for the rest of the weekend. Harry wandered throughout the zoo with a smile on his face, nothing had gone wrong and he had even got an ice cream, this joy lasted until the reptile house where as he walked past the Boa Constrictors cage, he heard a voice. “Sssssooooo veeerrrry coooolllddds in heeere, ssssssooo many ssstuuuppiiiddsss hummmaannnssss”, Harry turned and stared at the snake “wwhhaaaatttssss yousss looookkinggssss atttsss?” it said as it stared at him, “Pardon” said Harry. The snake gave a lurch off its branch and looked at Harry with an air of surprise, it looked like it was going to say something else when Harry was shoved to the ground and Dudley pressed his pig like nose to the glass. At least, that is what he meant to do, but when Harry had been pushed out the way his magic had flared, and the glass had vanished, the result being that Dudley had fallen into the snake pen and was currently being introduced to a hungry looking Boa. Dudley’s screams had brought Vernon, Petunia and a nearby zoo keeper running and after a brief struggle Dudley had been got free and they had left the zoo at a rapid pace. This event earned Harry the rest of the summer in his cupboard, or at least that was plan.
It was the morning of July 31st, Harry’s 11th birthday and the Dursley family were sat eating breakfast, Harry munching on the one piece of dry toast he was allowed to have, when the mail clattered through the letterbox. “Get the mail freak!” spat Uncle Vernon, sending sausage over the table, Harry scurried off to do as his uncle said, not wanting to anger him so early in the day and earn more cupboard time. It was as he was approaching the door when there was a sharp knock, “Get the door freak!” Vernon’s voice drifted through from the kitchen. He opened it to find a stern looking woman, with grey hair in a bun and funny looking dark clothes staring down at him. “Harry James Potter?” she said in a Scottish burr, “I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry, I have come to offer you a place in our school”, she appeared to be about to say something else but Uncle Vernon’s voice cut her off “Who is it freak? A Salesman? Send the good-for-nothing away and tell him that we don’t want whatever he is selling!” he bellowed. Professor McGonagall’s eyes furrowed at the term freak and she strode past him into the house.
Her arrival in the kitchen of number 4 privet drive caused a chain reaction of chaos, Aunt Petunia fainted and Uncle Vernon turned a dark shade of purple. “Explain just why you just called your nephew freak Mr. Dursley” spat Professor McGonagall “surely you do not despise him because of his magical heritage”. “You’re a freak too!!!” Vernon roared “GET OUT, GET OUT OF MY HOUSE, I WILL NOT HAVE IT SULLIED BY ANOTHER FREAK, I WILL NOT STAND FOR IT”, “Mr. Dursley, I am merely here to get Harry to offer him tuition at Hogwarts” “NO, I forbid it, he won’t learn it, he’s already a bookworm freak, I won’t have you filling his head with rubbish and turning him even more freakish, I’m not paying for that worthless no-good piece of shit to do anything!” Vernon was ranting, turning more and more purple, his eyes bulging; he looked for all the world like a heart attack was only seconds away. “It is obvious to me that leaving Harry here was a mistake, one that I must rectify immediately, Mr. Dursley you leave me NO other option. Harrison James Potter, I hereby grant you the status of ward of the school of Hogwarts for your own protection, So Mote It Be!” This last word was shouted as a white glow surrounded the confused youngster as Vernon made a lunge for the woman, however for all the things in the world quick was not something that characterised Vernon Dursley, the woman drew a long cylindrical stick and shouted a word that sounded to Harry like “Stupify”, a red light flashed and Uncle Vernon was collapsed on the floor a second and third light hit Aunt Petunia and the wide eyed Dudley, the former stayed still on the floor where she had been beginning to rise, the latter fell forward, his pig-like face hitting the plate of meat in front of him.
“Excuse me?” asked Harry “but what is Hogwarts and what is a ward of the school, and why did I glow, and what where those red lights?”
Professor McGonagall smiled at the inquisitive boy and explained that Hogwart’s was a school for magical children, headed by one the most powerful wizards alive Professor Albus Dumbledore, it was where he would go to learn magic and that being a ward of the school meant that the school was now responsible for him in the magical world until he turned 15 and could legally be emancipated, the glow was just showing that the bond had been accepted by the school and himself, she also explained that the red light was a stunning spell that was a little bit to advanced for him at this moment in time. “And now Mr Potter, here is you Hogwart’s letter, it is normally delivered by post but somehow I don’t think that your (here she grimaced) relatives would like an owl arriving at the breakfast table” “no” grinned Harry as he read the letter in front of him “ They don’t like anything that’s not normal”.
The Letter read as follows:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin 1st Class, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump.)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to announce that you have been accepted into Hogwarts, your name has been down on our books since birth, courtesy of your parent’s heritage. Enclosed is a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1st September. We would usually deliver this letter by Owl post however circumstances mean that this letter is hand delivered by a member of staff
Minerva McGonagall – Deputy Headmistress
Harry stared at it, his eyes wide as he took in the list of books, so many new things to learn, inside he was bouncing for joy, especially at the mention of his parents, but he realised something and turned to the Professor with sad eyes. “But Professor, I don’t have any money and the Dursley’s wouldn’t have paid for anything, I can’t afford this”. “Nonsense Mr Potter, you are the last of an Ancient and Noble family, there is a vault waiting for you at Gringotts, now collect your items and we shall head off.” Harry went to his cupboard and pulled out his only other set of clothes and the few broken army men that served as his childhood toys “I’m ready miss” he said. Tears filled the professors’ eyes as she realised just how badly the boy had been treated and vowed to never let it happen again. “Now Mr Potter” she said “before we leave there are several things I must tell you but I need to know where to begin, tell me, what do you know about your parent’s deaths?”, “not much professor, Uncle Vernon told me they were worthless drunks who died in a car crash” said Harry with a touch of bitterness. “Well I can tell you that’s nonsense Mr Potter, your parents where two well respected wizards who were murdered by one of the darkest wizards of our time, his name is not widely spoken in our world, people prefer to call him you-know-who or he-who-must-be-named, however his name is Lord V...V...Voldemort, although I would prefer you not to say it, this leads me on to the (here she sniffed) the night your parents died Harry, they were betrayed and Voldemort came to your house where he murdered you father and mother but when he went to kill you something happened, and somehow he was gone, defeated, and all that was left was you and your scar, your well known for that in our world Mr Potter, you are too many witches and wizards... a hero, the Boy-who-lived, and they will be (here she grimaced) eager... to meet you, to try and be your friend, I will give you this advice Mr Potter, Choose your friends well, because the light could not deal with another betrayal” and with that cryptic statement she swept out of the door.
Harry stood there for several minutes, trying to absorb the information that the professor had divulged. He didn’t really think he could be a hero; he was having a hard time accepting he didn’t have to go to the Dursleys again let alone be some sort of super hero wizard! “Come Mr Potter, I do not have all day” came the professor’s voice from somewhere outside; Harry took one last look around Number 4 Privet Drive, took a deep breath and walked out the door, closing it softly behind him.
At the end of the driveway the professor held her wand up, the tip flashed purple and seconds later a large purple London double decker bus sat there gleaming, heat pouring from its engine, the professor turned to Harry and said “welcome Mr Potter, to the Knight Bus”. The Knight bus was a bizarre contraption that seemed to be much larger on the inside that outside, it had beds as well as the usual bus seats. Harry sat next to the professor as a voice suddenly was heard overhead. “NEXT STOP – LEAKY CAULDRON” and the bus shot off, throwing harry off his seat. Just as he had picked himself up the bus lurched again and he found himself sprawled on the floor as a voice said “All for the leaky cauldron this is your stop, next stop Ottery St catchpole, followed by Godric’s Hollow and the international portkey centre”. The professor helped him up, laughter in her eyes and once getting off the bus, guided him towards the door of an old looking pub; she didn’t stop once she was inside either, creating a path for him to walk through until they had exited through another door and arrived in the back yard, where they stopped. “Remember this Mr Potter” she said as she drew her wand “To enter Diagon Alley, that is the main wizarding street in Britain, you must touch this brick with your wand” she pointed to a brick 3 up and 2 to the right from the lid of the dustbin, as she touched it the wall faded into itself revealing a breathtaking street that made Harry gasp. It looked like an old street that he had seen in a history book on the Victorian times, except it was bursting with colour; brightly coloured buildings had signs saying things like Eyelops Owl Emporium and Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Harry wished he had many more pairs of eyes as he walked down the street, trying to match the fast pace of his professor, a young girl with shinning red hair noticed him, their eyes met briefly before she saw his scar and screamed “ITS HARRY POTTER!!” gasps took in this statement before Harry found himself surrounded by people all patting him on the back, grabbing at his hand, at him in general, he couldn’t see the professor and was getting more and more wound up as the people wouldn’t let him through, he was starting to panic. A canon shot sounded, silencing the baying mob and then a furious professor McGonagall was storming towards the crowd “HOW DARE YOU! ALL OF YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED, WHAT WHERE YOU THINKING! THE POOR BOY LOOKS AS WHITE AS A SHEET!” she grasped his hand firmly and guided him in through the doors of a large white marble building with silver doors.
Once inside she turned and asked harry if he was alright, and after gotten assurances that he was indeed alright, they approached the strange looking creature, who was manning a large podium “What!” it snapped, “Mr Potter needs to visit his vault, here is his key” the professor showed the creature the key, it turned and sneered. “What you lookin’ at child?” is asked, showing many sharp teeth. “Excuse me? But what are you?” asked Harry politely “I am a goblin child, this is a goblin bank” it said looked at him with a puzzled expression as if trying to decipher if he was serious, its long fingers stroking a long goatee beard, after a few seconds of apparently making up its mind, it turned “GRIPHOOK, it shouted, take Mr Potter to his vault”. Another Goblin, smaller that the first and with a smaller goatee beard arrived and ushered harry over to what looked for the entire world like a mining cart with seats. Once in the cart, it shot off like a roller coaster cart that soon had Harry whooping and shouting for it to go faster as the stale warm air rushed past through his hair, after 5 minutes of awe-inspiring speed the car came to a leisurely stop in-front of vault 687.
Once out the cart the goblin gestured for harry to insert the key into the heavy gold lock on the vault door, there was a slight sound a cogs moving before the door swung open and harry looked inside, his eyes bulged as he took in the piles of large gold coins and hexagonal silver pieces as well as the stacks of smaller copper coins that seemed to fill the large space. He turned to the Goblin and asked what the coins where, “The gold ones are Galleons, 1 Galleon is worth £100, there are 10 silver Sickles to a Galleon and there are 50 copper Knuts to the sickle, it is fairly easy to remember(2)” Harry took a bag from the wall and filled it up with 300 Galleons, a large pile of Sickles and a smaller number of Knuts. On the way back up Harry was thinking that he was glad the Dursleys didn’t know he had money, as he was sure that they would have spent it all and not given him any of it for himself. Professor McGonagall met him at the top of the run and explained how she had arranged for them to leave the bank through a side door to avoid the crowd she was sure had gathered at the main entrance. She was proved right a few moments later as, when they stepped out a side door further down the street Harry was amused and yet slightly scared to see a largish crowd had gathered by the front entrance and that some of them appeared to have camera’s. All that was on his mind a few seconds later however, was when the professor turned to Harry and said "Well Mr Potter, lets go and get you your wand".
That’s it for Chapter 1. I stopped it here so that in the next chapter we shall have the shopping, Hedwig, meeting Draco Malfoy for the first time, an interesting wand choosing, as well as a brief encounter with Ron Weasley, we also will have Harry’s trip to the station and the ride to Hogwarts! So much stuff!
(1)Vault Changed to Correct number! Thank you for telling me the correct number
(2) I also chose an easier currency exchange model as well
I would appreciate any help and advice you can give, this is the first time i've actually tried to write something other than a poem.i also think at what seems to be 1000mph so if there is a sentence where a word is missing please point it out to me.
(Also I will explain what it means to be a ward of the school and Harry’s wandless magic will be discussed in the next few chapters)
This hasn't changed from last time