Querencia

Of explanations and Promises

"You're a wizard Harry." The man had spoken. His words had been said to sincerely. So truthfully that when Harry had given him a look of pity and anger, he half expected the man to pout in misery and throw a tantrum. Maybe he had escaped from some mental asylum or some hospital nearby? Maybe he just needed help?

"What? Are you..okay sir? Do you need to sit down? Maybe go to the hospital?" Harry smiled placatingly at him, retreating back ever so slightly one step at a time. "I'm..just going to call Ms Haskins, the owner out. I think she's more suited to help you here." He relished in the grimace overtaking the man's face and held back laughter at the vaguely annoyed look he made. He looked odd when he did so. Like a man wishing to dictate yet ending up looking no more than a helpless follower.

"No! No m'boy. That won't be necessary." The man burst out, his expression switching from annoyed to panicked the second Harry had touched the doorknob. "Would it perhaps help if I demonstrated a trick? To convince you that this isn't some elaborate hoax."

Harry didn't have the time to answer because before he knew it, he found himself staring at a pointed stick. "Right...you have a wand. Of course you have a wand." He murmured to himself, wondering what he did to warrant a situation like this. He retreated back further, gripping the doorknob tighter, already thinking of possible ways to escape this room if things took an unexpected turn.

"Why of course m'boy. We need wands to cast spells. Some powerful individuals are able to accomplish spells without the use of a wand but the majority of our world use a wand to get by. When I take you shopping for your supplies, you shall pick up your wand too." The man smiled at him. His lips upturning into a small curve, appearing more to him as a fake grandfatherly look than anything. The man was grasping at straws. Magic didn't exist. It was a meaningless fantasy, used to entertain children. But Harry wasn't a child. He hadn't been one since the minute he'd been thrown into the foster system. Magic didn't exist right? Of course it didn't.

Then why, did, all of a sudden, the hat rack next to him burst into flames. Letting out a quiet shriek of surprise, Harry scrambled to the side, stumbling to the floor and hurriedly moving back till his head touched the adjourning wall and his hands gripped the carpet so tight he was sure there would be nail marks when he let go. "How-" He squeaked stopping abruptly when with another swish of a wand, the fire was immediately extinguished and the ashes swirled in a circular motion before once again becoming an identical hat rack.

"Magic my dear boy. Magic."

Harry nodded slowly biting his lips and staring with wide eyes at the wand gripped in the man's hands with fear and awe. "Holy-"

"Do you believe me now?" The man chuckled, his expression smug and full of arrogance. His eyes twinkled brighter for a split second and he scaled the length of the room till he was standing next to a dumbstruck Harry who couldn't bring himself to do anything but nod frantically.

"Wonderful! Now, since all the formalities have been sorted, I believe it is time for us to go shopping for your school supplies."

"Uh, lets not get hasty." Harry chuckled, sheepishly rubbing the back of his head. "You haven't even told me who you are. Or the schools name. Or..anything basically. I can't just go on a joyride with you without knowing who you are or where we're going."

The man stared at him with an indescribable look before jumping in shock and surprise. "Oh! Where is my mind today? My name is Albus Dumbledore. You may refer to me as Professor Dumbledore. I am the headmaster of Hogwarts school for Witchcraft and Wizardry. The school your parents attended when they where younger and the same school you have been invited to attend. There are a number of supplies you require to attend. Oh my! I've forgotten to give you the letter!" Dumbledore laughed nervously, reaching down in his robe's endless pockets and pulling out a slightly crumpled yet pristine envelope. Harry slowly took it from his hands and turned it over, tracing the words written on the front of the envelope.