Harry woke the next morning by his own accord for the first time in months—no stinging hexes, no Filmore’s colorful curses dragging him from bed.
It was a welcome change.
It took him a few moments to remember exactly where he was.
He sighed at the daunting day ahead, but first came his morning exercises.
Those had become non-negotiable.
He changed into his exercise clothes, gave Hedwig a treat, and slipped out of the Leaky Cauldron.
He ran through the streets of Muggle London, passing Charing Cross Station before eventually reaching St. James’s Park.
After several laps around the park, he returned to the pub and finished with push-ups and other bodyweight exercises.
He took a long, hot shower, savoring the way the water soothed his tired muscles despite the warm weather outside.
Once dressed, he headed downstairs for breakfast.
“Good morning, sir,” Tom greeted him with a smile.
“Breakfast?”
“Yes, please. Porridge and some fruit,” Harry requested.
His morning run had left him ravenous.
“Right away.”
As he ate, Harry turned over in his mind how best to approach Dumbledore.
He had known the man for years, but this younger version might react very differently.
The Dumbledore of his time was open-minded, but Harry had no idea how this one would respond to the impossible story he was about to tell.
He could only hope he wouldn’t be dismissed as insane and carted off to St. Mungo’s.
He tried to formulate a solid plan but eventually gave up.
He would simply have to improvise and do whatever was necessary to make the Headmaster believe him. This story is hosted at g.com.
He had to make him believe.
Steeling his nerves, Harry left the pub and apparated to Hogsmeade.
The walk from the village to the Hogwarts gates felt endless.
Nervousness gnawed at him with every step, and he second-guessed himself the entire way.
When he finally reached the gates, he found them locked.
A wave of relief washed over him—perhaps fate was giving him a reprieve.
But he doubted he would find the courage to return if he left now.
Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and turned to go when a very familiar voice stopped him.
“What yeh doin’ ‘ere? Students ain’t s’posed ter be ‘ere durin’ the summer,” Hagrid said.
Harry turned slowly to face the half-giant.
Seeing his old friend—even younger and less lined—sent a warm rush of relief through him.
“Oh, sorry,” Hagrid added, frowning.
“I thought yeh were a student. Yeh look like one o’ the lads that goes ‘ere.”
The comment gave Harry an idea.
“Actually, I was hoping to enroll here. I wanted to speak with Professor Dumbledore about it.”
“I dunno ’bout that,” Hagrid said uncertainly.
“These gates are s’posed ter stay locked.”
“I’m happy to hand over my wand,” Harry offered.
At that moment, a massive, slobbering dog bounded up to the gate, tail wagging furiously as it tried to get Harry’s attention.
“Hello there,” Harry said, reaching through the bars to scratch the enormous beast.
“You’re a messy boy, aren’t you?” he chuckled as drool pooled on the ground.
Hagrid pulled the beast back with some effort.
“Get back, Dozer, yeh ruddy dog.”
“Dozer?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.
“All ‘e does is sleep,” Hagrid explained with a shake of his shaggy head.
“Ah.”
“I can’t jus’ let yeh in, but I’ll check with Professor Dumbledore if he’ll see yeh,” Hagrid decided.
“Thank you,” Harry replied nervously.
“Yeh stay ‘ere, Dozer, an’ keep the lad company.” The dog immediately pressed against the bars again for more attention.
“I reckon yeh’re a good lad. He doesn’ like many people,” Hagrid mused before heading toward the castle.
Harry waited anxiously, stroking the friendly dog until Hagrid returned about fifteen minutes later and unlocked the gates.
“Sorry ’bout that. Can’t be too careful these days,” Hagrid explained.
“Professor Dumbledore says he’ll see yeh. Jus’ keep yer wand away, mind.”
“I understand,” Harry said.
“It would be foolish for anyone to try attacking Dumbledore anyway. I don’t have a death wish.” He added a touch of flattery, knowing it would go a long way with the half-giant.
Hagrid led him across the grounds and through the familiar corridors to the stone gargoyle, which hopped aside at their approach.
Harry paused at the bottom of the spiral staircase and took a deep breath, steeling himself.
“Yeh alrigh’, lad?” Hagrid asked worriedly.
“I’m fine. Just a little nervous,” Harry admitted.
Hagrid chuckled.
“No need ter be. Professor Dumbledore is a good man. He’ll see yeh right.” He clapped Harry on the back—nearly knocking him over—and offered a massive hand.
“I bes’ be off. Lots ter do before term starts. Hopefully I’ll be seein’ yeh. Name’s Hagrid, by the way.”
“Harry,” the boy replied, shaking the enormous hand warmly.
“Yeh’ll be fine, Harry,” Hagrid promised before turning and heading back down the corridor.