“I headed this way the second I heard you got the letter,” Hagrid said with a laugh.
“When they told me you never received it, I got worried the Dursleys had done something.” The giant who called himself Hagrid ducked and squeezed through the doorway.
After two steps he gave up, sat down cross-legged on the floor, and still took up half the hallway.
“What are you doing here?” Harry asked, looking up.
“What am I doing here?
Good question.
You know Hogwarts, right?
The magic school?
You just got that letter.
I figured you’ve been waiting forever to go there.” “No,” Harry said, shaking his head.
“I only just learned about Hogwarts—from you.” He couldn’t mention the other world.
So he had to pretend he knew nothing.
“You don’t know?
You really don’t know?!” Hagrid’s eyes went wide.
His beard trembled.
“Those bloody Dursleys—did they tell you nothing at all?” “Tell me what?” Harry tried to look clueless.
Lying made his heart race.
He could feel his face getting hot.
If there’d been a mirror he probably would’ve seen it glowing red.
Hagrid didn’t notice.
He was furious, looking like he wanted to tear the whole house down.
Dudley appeared at the top of the stairs, woken by the pounding and Petunia’s scream.
One look at Hagrid sitting in the doorway and he vanished back into his room like a rabbit.
“You’re a wizard,” Hagrid said.
“Your mum and dad were wizards too.
Your whole family’s famous in our world.
I can’t believe the Dursleys never told you.
Dumbledore even left a letter.” Harry’s surprise was real this time.
“My family’s famous?
Why?” “Because you did something incredible.
Your parents fought the evil… the bad guy.
And you, Harry Potter—you beat him.” Harry stared.
“Wait.
You’re saying I defeated someone?
Seriously?” He had zero memory of that.
He didn’t think he had that kind of power.
“Doesn’t matter.
Everyone believes you did it.
He killed a lot of people.
Nobody survived once he decided to kill them.
Except you.
You lived, and then he vanished.
We figure you must’ve beaten him.” Hagrid’s eyes shone as he looked at Harry like he was staring at a hero.
He pointed at the lightning scar on Harry’s forehead.
“This scar?
That’s from the curse he used.
The Killing Curse—one of the Unforgivable Curses.
It rips a person’s soul apart.
No one survives it.
But you’re different.
You were born different.” Harry felt like there had to be some mistake.
Then a thought hit him.
“What about my parents?” he asked.
“Did they really die in a car crash?” That’s what the Dursleys had always said.
But now he doubted everything.
Wizards didn’t die that easily.
Hagrid hesitated for a long time.
“They were killed by that man.” The words brought back a flash from Harry’s dreams—green light, cold laughter.
Harry sucked in a sharp breath and bit down hard.
It felt like a stone had lodged in his chest.
“Who is this man?” “Can’t just say his name lightly.
Nobody says it out loud.
It might draw his attention… all right, I’ll tell you.
But don’t go repeating it.
His name is Voldemort.” Voldemort.
Harry locked the name in his memory.
He’d ask his parents about it the next time he crossed over.
Hagrid went quiet for a moment, then blew his nose loudly on a filthy handkerchief.
The sound was so ridiculous it made Harry feel awkward about being sad.
“They were good people.
The best.
Such a bloody shame…” It took Hagrid a while to pull himself together.
He stuffed the handkerchief back in his pocket.
“I thought this trip would be harder.
Figured I’d have to argue with the Dursleys, maybe even fight.
I was ready to use magic if I had to.” He patted the battered pink umbrella in his hand.
Harry glanced at the umbrella, confused what it had to do with magic.
“Right, time’s wasting.
We should get moving.” Hagrid suddenly boomed, making Petunia jump in the corner.
“Moving?
Where?” “London.
To buy all your school supplies.” Hagrid grinned, beard lifting at the edges.
“Supplies… um… do I need to bring money?” Harry figured he could probably “borrow” some from the Dursleys.
They wouldn’t care right now.
“No need.
You don’t have to touch their money.
Your parents left you plenty.” “But they’ve been dead a long time, haven’t they?” Harry had heard Uncle Vernon complain about banks plenty of times—called them bloodsucking vampires.
Said if someone died, their savings got swallowed and the debts got dumped on the kids.
“Not the same with wizard banks, Harry.
Long as you’re alive, they can’t touch your gold.
Those goblins wouldn’t dare steal from a living wizard.
Gringotts is safe.
Nobody messes with it—not even the goblins themselves.
I’ve got business there too.
Something important Dumbledore asked me to fetch.
He trusts me with the big jobs—like coming to get you.
Wouldn’t trust anyone else.” Hagrid looked proud, like being trusted by Dumbledore was the greatest honor in the world.
“Come on.
You don’t need to bring anything.” Hagrid stood up.
His massive frame nearly blocked the entire hallway.
Harry had pictured experiencing wizard life with Mom and Dad first.
Instead he was about to see how wizards lived in this world before the day was even over.
“How are we getting there?” He’d half expected Hagrid to pull out some magical gadget.
Instead the giant just shrugged.
“Would’ve used the Floo if I’d brought powder.
Looks like we’re taking the subway.”