chapter 3

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July 22nd 1991

Harry woke up early to get a start on breakfast. Then he would grab the post. He had been counting down the days until today, he was preparing to save his cousin a little strife over the next week. He didn't really care about his uncle spending the week half-insane, but Dudley helped him once near the end of the war and this was the only way Harry was ever going to repay him.

It was Monday so he had to cook a big breakfast before his uncle went to work. He tried to cook quickly so that he was settled ready to move.

When the bacon and eggs were finally on the table and everyone was eating- Harry obviously not included- the post came.

"Dudley get the post."

"Make Harry get it."

"Boy go and get that. Then get to Mrs Figgs."

"Yes uncle." Harry rushed to get to the front door. He picked up the letters, sifting through for the thick parchment envelope. He shoved it into his shirt and passed the rest of the letters to his uncle Vernon.

"Now get off."

Harry hid his smile until he got out of the door. He ran at a full sprint all the way to Mrs Figgs house.

"You look out of breath Harry. Come in and have breakfast." Mrs Figg knew he wouldn't have had breakfast so always offered him some cereal. He felt guilty for thinking so badly of her at the very beginning. She was more family than the Dursleys' would ever be.

"Thank you."

"Oh it's nothing Dearie. Now eat."

She made Harry take some of the banana milk from the fridge. She was trying to fatten him up ready for Hogwarts and Banana milk was something Arabella Figg had had a weakness for since she was a child.

"Thanks Mrs Figg. I've got something to show you." Harry told her from across the tiny table in the kitchen. "My Hogwarts letter!" He showed her the parchment envelope.

"Oh well done Harry." Harry and Mrs Figg had developed a sort of grandparent like relationship; and Harry was glad for someone to share his excitement with. His memories did nothing to hinder his ten-year-old joy. "Come on and finish your milk. You can borrow Candace to send Albus your reply."

Mrs Figg leant Harry a piece of parchment and a quill to write his letter. The quill felt alien in his hand, his handwriting had never been great but it was like he was holding the quill for the first time again.

"Are you okay Harry?"

"I'm finding it hard to write Mrs Figg. It's strange, I've written with a quill a thousand times before." He confessed to her.

Mrs Figg looked down at the page and thought for a moment; though she new a little of time travel most of it was guess work for her. "You know what I think Harry. I don't think you have." She smiled and cut him off. "Wait let me explain. Your memories, or soul travelled back in time. Not your body. This body has never held a Quill before. You need to re-learn." She smiled in a comforting, joking sort of way. "Either that or its because you're hands are tiny."

"Damn, Snape's going to have my head- again." Harry complained making the older woman smile even wider. It was great for her, she didn't get very much contact with wizards. Even if it was just little Harry Potter.

"There, there. You can practice this summer. You have a good few weeks to get ahead. Your mother and that girl Hermin- you said they picked it up well and they were muggle born."

"Hermione."

"Oh yes. You can come over here to practice; I'll help you. Now, let's see, tell me what you have to say and I'll write it down so the headmaster can read it."

"Thank you Mrs Figg."

"It's your birthday soon, isn't it Harry." Mrs Figg could move around more now and the two were drinking lemonade in the garden with the Kneazles-Cat hybrids running around them.

"The thirty- first." Harry was leaning on the small weather battered table copying from an old, worn out book that Mrs Figg had lent him. It was a basic book on Herbology and its uses as in potion making; It had made its way onto Mrs Figgs bookcase from her sister's time at Hogwarts. It was either that or a deadly boring history of magic textbook.

"I have a present for you."

"Mrs Figg you've given me more-"

"Harry come here." They moved into the room which the Dursleys used as their dining room. "Have a look."

"Kneazles; babies?" This was Mrs Figgs cat room. She used it for breading and caring for her new-borns. It had a very distinct smell.

"Half-Kneazle. Both their parents are Half Kneazle- Snowy here is their mother." Mrs Figg petted the magical mother cat on the head. "You can have one of the kittens. I won't charge you Harry. They're going off to the Magical Menagerie in September. "

Harry smiled and looked down at the nine little kittens. There were three orange ones, one pure white, one light grey, two black ones and two deep grey and blue speckled ones.

"I did want an owl Mrs Figg." He told her honestly as he thought of Hedwig and then of Crookshanks.

"I'm sure I could talk to Albus; Don't you worry Harry."

"Really?"

"Pick a cat Harry. Let me do this for you." She looked down at the cats, her voice going soft and a little sad. "I want you to have a pet that can protect you." She knew Harry was going to go through so much.

Harry leaned down and looked between the tiny kittens. They were just old enough to be moving away from their mother. "Can I have a girl?"

Mrs Figg pulled two of the cats away- the only two boys there so he lost a ginger cat and the grey one. As this happened one of the speckled kittens began to pull at Harrys leg, clawing him sharply.

"Ouch. Hey." The cat just meowed at him and hurried back to her mother. Harry put his hand on the bleeding cuts. "I'll take this one Mrs Figg please."

"She's a live wire." She warned.

"She's Zany, I'm going to call her Zana."

The older woman smiled, it was strange how wizards found their familiars. "I'll keep her here for you until September. You don't want your aunt having a fit."

"I wish I could live here with you." Harry admitted.

"That's sweet of you. You're heading to school in September, you'll be there."

"I'll send you an Owl to tell you how I'm getting on."

"Thank you Harry; I'd like that. Very much."

Hogwarts

Albus Dumbledore always got a lot of mail; as Headmaster of Hogwarts, as the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, even just with his reputation.

He always read every piece of mail he received; although not always as thoroughly as he once did. There was just so much to read through.

He recognised the brown owl that came through his window. Arabella knew to only contact him if Harrys life was in danger. He had told her as much after her first two letters.

Petunia would warm up to the boy eventually- stop comparing him to his parents. It was nearly impossible to raise a child and not become attached.

He hastily picked up the parchment from the owl's leg and opened it.

'Dear Headmaster Dumbledore of Hogwarts.

My Name is Harry James Evans-Potter. I recently received my acceptance letter to your school and want to personally thank you for believing that I would be able to learn such a thing. I was ever so surprised when I got my letter, but pleased of course. I never even knew there could be such a thing as magic.

I would like to know if there is someone that can help me find my supplies for school as I have no idea where I could possibly get these things. Furthermore, as you can see from the way I introduced myself I like to use my mother's maiden name with my fathers and will be making this legal when I am old enough; would it be at all possible to be registered with the school as Evans-Potter rather than just Potter. It is okay if this is not possible but I felt the need to ask.

Thank you so much for accepting me to your school. I hope I will do well.

Yours in good faith

Harry Evans-Potter'

Dumbledore looked over the letter again. Did Arabella tell Harry about herself? Or Did Harry confide in her when he got his letter?

The headmaster penned down a letter of questions to Arabella Figg. How else would Harry have used the Owl?

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