Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Consequences of a prepared mind
Harry walked slowly home from primary school for the very last time. Buoyed by the talk he had with his teachers and the heavy weight of his bag full of going away books, he nevertheless felt sad that he would never again sit in those colourful classrooms, or enjoy a debate of politics with Mr Adams, or discussions on the theory of relativity with Mr Carmichael. Stonewall High was an unknown, and though reassured by Mrs Hill as to the character of the teachers there, he didn't trust easily. Learning from an early age all about the masks that adults wear in public from the Dursley's, nice normal family that they were, he needed a long time to feel comfortable enough to trust others and even longer to depend on them.
The summer stretched before him, no doubt filled with the many chores that his aunt and uncle could come up with, to keep him busy and as normal as could be. He never really understood why he wasn't normal in their eyes. Yes he had survived the car crash that killed his parents, and yes he scored in the genius range on certain tests he took (which were never sent home in case of a sudden interest from his guardians), but his aunt and uncle always insisted he was abnormal, different in a way that they seemed scared that he would contaminate them. And so he kept secret his additional education, made sure to never show his intelligence or knowledge of the world around him, and definitely never ever allowed them to see his 'gifts'.
If fact no-one knew of said 'gifts'. For though he knew the teachers at school saw him as special, he knew that being able to heal cuts within seconds, disappear then appear somewhere else and float objects to him was not something he should talk about for fear of white padded walls and an interesting drug regimen. He didn't know if he was the only person able to do these things, some of which he could only do when he desperately needed to and others with a little practise he could do all the time, but he couldn't think of a way to safely find out. And so he studied hard and practised at his 'gifts' in the knowledge that one day he would be free of the Dursley's, free from Privet Drive and he intended to be prepared as possible for that day.
o0O0o
"…they attempted to modify the theory by making the gravitational force repulsive at very large distances. This did not significantly affect their predictions of the motions of the planets, but it allowed an infinite distribution of stars to remain in equilibrium – with the attractive forces between nearby stars balanced by the repulsive forces from those that were farther away. However, we now believe such an equilibrium would be unstable: if the stars in some region got only slightly nearer…" [1]
Harry looked up from the pages of his book and wiped his eyes of the dust from Dudley's descent of the stairs, he marked his place with a sigh and quickly hid the book under the thin foam mattress of his cot bed before his aunt opened the door. It wouldn't do for her to find his stash of books, no matter the questions raised or the beating for being different, he couldn't bear to spend the entire summer without some sort intellectual stimulus without going crazy. He could only rarely smuggle his uncle's paper into his cupboard at the end of the day, especially now his aunt had insisted on recycling anything and everything in existence. He assumed it must be the new 'in' thing to do among the neighbours, because Aunt Petunia didn't seem the type to bother with the environment, not if the amount of hairspray she used daily was any indication.
A quick bang on the cupboard door followed by the swish of the bolt let Harry know that it was time to start the day, first with the monumental size breakfast Dudley insisted on during the holidays when he had hours of leisure time to fill with eating. The plop of the mail landing on the mat made him turn to retrieve the post before he was asked, though never thanked for such things, it made for less yelling and that was always a good thing. A quick rifle through the envelopes made Harry almost jump with surprise, for there was thick envelope made of what seemed expensive paper and addressed in green ink. Though unusual this was not what had caused such a sudden shock to go through him, it was the fact that for the first time in eleven years someone had sent Harry Potter a letter.
A bang from the kitchen quickly brought Harry out of his staring and rushing forward, stopping for only a second to push the envelope under his cupboard door, he entered the kitchen quickly. Without a word he placed the other mail at his uncle's side on the table and then went to the stove, taking over the cooking without a sound. Inside he was shaking and his mind was racing as fast as it normally did when his teachers gave an unexpected pop quiz. Determined not to let his relatives spoil such a monumental occasion he slowed his movements down and was deliberate in his actions. For no reason did he want to draw attention to himself, and spilling the coffee or dropping the plates would be a sure fire way of attracting attention.
o0O0o
It was later in the day after mowing the lawn (again), weeding the front garden (I'm sure Aunt Petunia must replant the things they grow so quickly), and doing the laundry (how on earth does Dudley get through six pairs of jeans in two days?) he retreated to his cupboard. Lunch was finished and his determination to not become distracted during the day had worked as he was given a whole cheese sandwich to take with him. Sitting on his cot bed nibbling on the crusts he stared at the mysterious envelope. The sounds of his family loudly talking about Vernon's new work car for the entire neighbourhood to overhear, was drowned out by the sound of his thumping heart beat.
Slowly pealing back the wax seal imprinted with a large H and a fancy crest with minutely detailed animals in the four quadrants (he had thought that method of sealing mail was outdated a century or two ago), he slid what he thought he recognised as parchment out and took a deep breath … only to lose it after reading the first line.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Now if it wasn't for the fact that he knew the Dursley's had no sense of humour, he would have sworn it was some sort of trick on their part. One to make him look foolish or to draw him out and make a case of insanity. But there it was in black and white, well green and parchment coloured, and for some reason he felt … content, in a way that he wasn't sure he had felt before, but for some reason this felt right. With no other option he looked inside himself and decided that to follow his instinct, one that had never led him astray was a good enough reason as not. Scanning the list of books and equipment and then rereading the letter provoked many questions, the most prominent being "They await my owl…?"
Unsure of exactly what that meant unless it was something like a carrier pigeon, he routed among his school things until he found a notebook. With as much care as his shaking hand would allow, he wrote his reply.
Dear Ms McGonagall
I have received your letter and was shocked as to what I read. Disregarding this as some prank of my relatives, I would be very grateful if someone could come and talk to me and explain in more detail. I live with my Aunt and Uncle who don't know anything about magic and I would appreciate someone who could tell me more about the school, and such things as to where I could purchase my school supplies.
Thank you for your time,
Harry Potter.
Checking his spelling and grammar again, he wanted to make a good impression after all, he quickly exited his cupboard and finding an envelope in the kitchen drawer wrote McGonagall's name and Hogwarts School. Stumped as to the rest of the address he peaked outside to check on his relatives just in time to see them driving away. Remembering something about them shopping for Dudley's new school uniform and pondering on how to send the letter with no more than a school name, his eyes alighted on a very strange sight. Sitting on the garden fence staring at him was an owl. Now the presence of an owl in broad daylight is one thing, that it hadn't been shooed away by his relatives was another, the fact that it didn't seem to look away from him tipped the balance between coincidence and purposeful behaviour. Not understanding how, blaming it on magic and other such vague notions he reached over and opened the window. No sooner he had done so than the owl took off and landed on the window sill. Feeling rather stupid Harry extended the letter towards the owl.
"Would you possibly be able to deliver this to the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School, a Ms McGonagall for me?" he asked as politely as he could (this is an owl we're talking about, but good manners never cost you a thing).
The owl let out a calming reassuring sort of hoot before taking the letter in its beak and flying out of the window. Shocked at experiencing something that shouldn't have been possible, Harry mindlessly tidied the living room and the kitchen before going back to his cupboard to reread his letter. One thing he was absolutely certain of, this one letter, his first ever letter would change everything.
o0O0o
[1] A Brief History of Time - Stephen Hawking - Chapter 1
The summer stretched before him, no doubt filled with the many chores that his aunt and uncle could come up with, to keep him busy and as normal as could be. He never really understood why he wasn't normal in their eyes. Yes he had survived the car crash that killed his parents, and yes he scored in the genius range on certain tests he took (which were never sent home in case of a sudden interest from his guardians), but his aunt and uncle always insisted he was abnormal, different in a way that they seemed scared that he would contaminate them. And so he kept secret his additional education, made sure to never show his intelligence or knowledge of the world around him, and definitely never ever allowed them to see his 'gifts'.
If fact no-one knew of said 'gifts'. For though he knew the teachers at school saw him as special, he knew that being able to heal cuts within seconds, disappear then appear somewhere else and float objects to him was not something he should talk about for fear of white padded walls and an interesting drug regimen. He didn't know if he was the only person able to do these things, some of which he could only do when he desperately needed to and others with a little practise he could do all the time, but he couldn't think of a way to safely find out. And so he studied hard and practised at his 'gifts' in the knowledge that one day he would be free of the Dursley's, free from Privet Drive and he intended to be prepared as possible for that day.
o0O0o
"…they attempted to modify the theory by making the gravitational force repulsive at very large distances. This did not significantly affect their predictions of the motions of the planets, but it allowed an infinite distribution of stars to remain in equilibrium – with the attractive forces between nearby stars balanced by the repulsive forces from those that were farther away. However, we now believe such an equilibrium would be unstable: if the stars in some region got only slightly nearer…" [1]
Harry looked up from the pages of his book and wiped his eyes of the dust from Dudley's descent of the stairs, he marked his place with a sigh and quickly hid the book under the thin foam mattress of his cot bed before his aunt opened the door. It wouldn't do for her to find his stash of books, no matter the questions raised or the beating for being different, he couldn't bear to spend the entire summer without some sort intellectual stimulus without going crazy. He could only rarely smuggle his uncle's paper into his cupboard at the end of the day, especially now his aunt had insisted on recycling anything and everything in existence. He assumed it must be the new 'in' thing to do among the neighbours, because Aunt Petunia didn't seem the type to bother with the environment, not if the amount of hairspray she used daily was any indication.
A quick bang on the cupboard door followed by the swish of the bolt let Harry know that it was time to start the day, first with the monumental size breakfast Dudley insisted on during the holidays when he had hours of leisure time to fill with eating. The plop of the mail landing on the mat made him turn to retrieve the post before he was asked, though never thanked for such things, it made for less yelling and that was always a good thing. A quick rifle through the envelopes made Harry almost jump with surprise, for there was thick envelope made of what seemed expensive paper and addressed in green ink. Though unusual this was not what had caused such a sudden shock to go through him, it was the fact that for the first time in eleven years someone had sent Harry Potter a letter.
A bang from the kitchen quickly brought Harry out of his staring and rushing forward, stopping for only a second to push the envelope under his cupboard door, he entered the kitchen quickly. Without a word he placed the other mail at his uncle's side on the table and then went to the stove, taking over the cooking without a sound. Inside he was shaking and his mind was racing as fast as it normally did when his teachers gave an unexpected pop quiz. Determined not to let his relatives spoil such a monumental occasion he slowed his movements down and was deliberate in his actions. For no reason did he want to draw attention to himself, and spilling the coffee or dropping the plates would be a sure fire way of attracting attention.
o0O0o
It was later in the day after mowing the lawn (again), weeding the front garden (I'm sure Aunt Petunia must replant the things they grow so quickly), and doing the laundry (how on earth does Dudley get through six pairs of jeans in two days?) he retreated to his cupboard. Lunch was finished and his determination to not become distracted during the day had worked as he was given a whole cheese sandwich to take with him. Sitting on his cot bed nibbling on the crusts he stared at the mysterious envelope. The sounds of his family loudly talking about Vernon's new work car for the entire neighbourhood to overhear, was drowned out by the sound of his thumping heart beat.
Slowly pealing back the wax seal imprinted with a large H and a fancy crest with minutely detailed animals in the four quadrants (he had thought that method of sealing mail was outdated a century or two ago), he slid what he thought he recognised as parchment out and took a deep breath … only to lose it after reading the first line.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 31st July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Now if it wasn't for the fact that he knew the Dursley's had no sense of humour, he would have sworn it was some sort of trick on their part. One to make him look foolish or to draw him out and make a case of insanity. But there it was in black and white, well green and parchment coloured, and for some reason he felt … content, in a way that he wasn't sure he had felt before, but for some reason this felt right. With no other option he looked inside himself and decided that to follow his instinct, one that had never led him astray was a good enough reason as not. Scanning the list of books and equipment and then rereading the letter provoked many questions, the most prominent being "They await my owl…?"
Unsure of exactly what that meant unless it was something like a carrier pigeon, he routed among his school things until he found a notebook. With as much care as his shaking hand would allow, he wrote his reply.
Dear Ms McGonagall
I have received your letter and was shocked as to what I read. Disregarding this as some prank of my relatives, I would be very grateful if someone could come and talk to me and explain in more detail. I live with my Aunt and Uncle who don't know anything about magic and I would appreciate someone who could tell me more about the school, and such things as to where I could purchase my school supplies.
Thank you for your time,
Harry Potter.
Checking his spelling and grammar again, he wanted to make a good impression after all, he quickly exited his cupboard and finding an envelope in the kitchen drawer wrote McGonagall's name and Hogwarts School. Stumped as to the rest of the address he peaked outside to check on his relatives just in time to see them driving away. Remembering something about them shopping for Dudley's new school uniform and pondering on how to send the letter with no more than a school name, his eyes alighted on a very strange sight. Sitting on the garden fence staring at him was an owl. Now the presence of an owl in broad daylight is one thing, that it hadn't been shooed away by his relatives was another, the fact that it didn't seem to look away from him tipped the balance between coincidence and purposeful behaviour. Not understanding how, blaming it on magic and other such vague notions he reached over and opened the window. No sooner he had done so than the owl took off and landed on the window sill. Feeling rather stupid Harry extended the letter towards the owl.
"Would you possibly be able to deliver this to the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School, a Ms McGonagall for me?" he asked as politely as he could (this is an owl we're talking about, but good manners never cost you a thing).
The owl let out a calming reassuring sort of hoot before taking the letter in its beak and flying out of the window. Shocked at experiencing something that shouldn't have been possible, Harry mindlessly tidied the living room and the kitchen before going back to his cupboard to reread his letter. One thing he was absolutely certain of, this one letter, his first ever letter would change everything.
o0O0o
[1] A Brief History of Time - Stephen Hawking - Chapter 1
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