Ten Years at the Asylum

Prologue Part Two: Ten Years in the Asylum.

Harry Potter was nothing like his relatives and each and every day, he thanked every single deity that ever existed or will exist for that fact. He was tall, handsome, and well-read for his age, not to mention he actually felt he had something to contribute to the world at large. The useless lumps could not even think if their life depended on it. His cousin Dudley was the worst of it, for he had the misfortune of acquiring the combined worst parts of the DNA of both his aunt and uncle.

Harry also pitied Dudley, or he would, for if it not were the fact he was an imbecile. And he seemed to get dumber every year. How that was possible, Harry only guessed, he might never know. Dudley was a scientific curiosity, as he devolved by each passing year. He wondered why.

It was ten long years since he was dropped off at the Dursleys. Harry remembered each and every moment with picture perfect clarity. There was this psychopath who killed his mother that much he remembered. His father, well Harry did not have much to do with him when he was a baby. Sure his father obviously loved him but he spent a lot of his time gallivanting with his friends, Harry recalled that memory with picture perfect accuracy. He had more memories of his mother than he did his father in his mind.

And more returned when Harry's mind grew stronger and he increased his mental processes. He found a day where he could not curl up with a good book to be a disappointment. The wizard read every book in the Surrey Library by the age of eight and went to London for his tenth birthday to read every book in there library. He retained every bit of information with pinpoint accuracy and was able to speed-read at inhumane levels.

He shook the cobwebs loose from his head when he thought about everything that happened.

From the moment he arrived at Number Four Privet Drive, he could tell he was loathed by his aunt and uncle. The reason why, Harry was not quite sure, although there were a few theories Harry put out there for consumption. He had a feeling that jealousy had a lot to do with what the Dursleys felt but he could not quite put his finger on why.

Every moment Harry was here, he excelled beyond the levels of that buffoon Dudley. Naturally, the Dursleys tried to hold him down. This did not end well for him, which Harry recalled for when he was five years old. He remembered that he was almost always brighter than his peers and refused to dumb himself down. His IQ was inhumane but as always he thought that there was room for improvement.

"BOY!"

Five year old Harry Potter rolled his eyes; he would think that his uncle would have the brain cells to learn his name. Then again, it might be giving him too much credit.

"What is the meaning of this?" Vernon asked, when he practically snarled at Harry.

"I got the top grade in the class on the last test," Harry answered in a voice that was both calm and unapologetic.

"Dudley failed the test," Vernon responded, his eyes beady. "I think you switched papers with him."

Harry wondered if his uncle could really be that stupid but then again, asking that question made him wonder about his own sanity. The young child clasped his hand together when he stared down his Uncle, their eyes meeting when the two locked eye to eye.

"I'm excelling in all of my tests," Harry responded, wondering if he should dial back his vocabulary a bit so Vernon could get the point.

"You better not show up Dudley ever again," Vernon stated through gritted teeth when he looked purple in a face.

Harry hoped his uncle would not get a heart attack; it would be a pity if he did.

"I'm going to do my best; it's not my fault that your son is an imbecile."

Vernon raised a fist but Harry blocked his hand, with super reflexes and strength. He was surprised at his own strength but did not question it.

"How dare you..."

Vernon pulled back and his fingers were purple from the force that Harry exerted. There was no telling what anyone who could do that was capable of. If Vernon Dursley was a smart man, he would turn around now and leave well enough alone, so he did not get injured.

Vernon Dursley was not a smart man. He tried to attack Harry.

Vernon Dursley found himself thrown through a wall, where he landed with a solid crash. Harry did not quite figure out how he did it, only that he did it and that was good enough for him.

Harry Potter loathed people that picked on those weaker than they were. Of course, one could argue that was a sign of true weakness themselves. Harry only defended himself and believe him, he could defend himself. He was not some weak and spineless little boy who allowed people to roll over him just because they were bigger than him. Not that he was that smaller than Dudley, well Dudley was wider and Harry was taller. Harry could pass as a thirteen or fourteen year old at least if no one was the wiser.

He stood tall for his age, nearly five and a half feet tall, with subtle muscles on his arms, and black hair that was messy. Harry thought about straightening his hair but it was too much work and it annoyed the ever living piss out the Dursleys. So he decided to keep his hair messy. His eyes were green, like glowing emeralds, and showed intensity that one could get lost in.

After the episode when he was five years ago, there was a bit of a ceasefire between the Dursleys and Harry, although the undercurrent of hostility remained between them. Vernon spent nearly two months in the hospital, being knocked into a coma. Harry was not sure what kind of spin doctoring that Petunia did but he knew that he got moved into the smallest bedroom faster than a speeding bullet. Obviously, no one would believe that a five year old would knock out a full grown man.

Harry enjoyed being in that bedroom, he stayed out the way of the Dursleys and they stayed out of his way; which was for the best. It was an existence that lent itself to a cold war like environment but he thought that keeping away from Vernon and Petunia was the best thing for all of them. He did all of the household chores and the cooking, being allowed to cook whatever he wanted. That was for the best, given that Petunia's cooking was mediocre at best.

Vernon and Petunia left him alone, Dudley on the other hand...well Dudley was a strong candidate for a Darwin award in Harry's opinion. He was not the sharpest knife in the drawer and he thought he was the most dangerous. He had his little gang of idiots that followed him around. Harry felt appalled that he had to share the oxygen that these troglodytes did and they got dumber every year. How that was possible, Harry had no idea whatsoever.

He managed to get into a private school on his own merits at the age of seven that set Vernon off a little bit, although he caved in and reluctantly conceded that Harry would go. Plus it indicated that Harry would only be home six weeks out of the year, which made Vernon all too happy to give him the encouraging nod and prod Harry out the door.

Harry was one that worked to his own pace and was glad that he went to a school that encouraged different levels of learning. It was amusing when Harry thought about it.

Over time it ceased to be a challenge as Harry kept breaking new barriers.

"Mr. Potter, I must say that I'm impressed with your marks, never has a student achieved such a high standard of education."

The old woman sat across from him, dressed conservatively, with thick glasses that allowed her to peer over them towards the now ten year old Harry Potter.

"I do think that there is not that much more for us to teach you in the future," the headmistress stated while she looked across from Harry at her desk.

"Then, I have everything that I want out of this place," Harry responded as he looked back at the woman.

"I never thought that I'd have to say this to a student but you have completed classes at a remarkable pace," the headmistress stated, almost in awe before she decided to close her eyes and keep herself in check. "The scary part is that you're only ten years old. I must admit that I was skeptical..."

"Many are skeptical but seeing is in fact believing," Harry responded with a self assured, but not quite arrogant, smirk. "I do thank you for the time I've spent here and the quality of your staff. I hope future students only get as half as I've got out of them."

"Let's hope so," the headmistress agreed as she wondered if she should be asking this to a ten year old. Even if it was one that looked and acted much older than his age. "So, tell me, what are your plans for this fall?"

Harry pondered that over but only for a second. "I always had some kind of backup plan in mind in case I finished here. I thought that it would be another year or two down the line but I have all my credits and there is nothing else for me to do at this school."

Harry thought about going on a journey to figure out what his special abilities were although he did not doubt that a ten year old going unsupervised was going to fly. A smile crossed his face, a shadow of one. Perhaps he could find out the missing puzzle piece. He had dreams of flashes of light, a crystal, a cave, and a burning "Z" surely all of them tied together, somehow.

"Oxford or Cambridge, I think that's the real question," Harry stated to the Headmistress, thoughtfully. "Although it may be a bit soon to go down that road."

'But never too soon to think about it,' Harry thought to himself, his fingers drumming on the desk.

"You will break many records," the woman stated across from him. "I do have a granddaughter around your age that has similar ambitions although I do think that in many ways you have surpassed her."

"Well, competition makes us strong and causes our brains to seek out further knowledge," Harry responded in a light tone of voice.

He thought about it, he always enjoyed having someone who challenged his intellect standing beside him, although that was quite rare. It was too much to hope for children his age not being childish. He had brief moments of challenge in school but they were fleeting and none of them lasted the distance. He knew that he was about to take the next step of his life and it would be quite fascinating.

Back in the present, Harry Potter thought that there was something different about him, although whether it was the good kind of different or the bad kind of different, that was a matter that was up for debate. He could do things that many would not dream of. The Dursleys knew what was up but neither Vernon nor Petunia fessed up with what they knew. The child prodigy found this annoying but decided that the journey would be worth it to find out.

He took a keen interest in military history and strategies, reading various books on the subject. Most of them were second hand but Harry acquired enough money by doing various odd jobs around the neighborhood. The Dursleys must not know about this for they would try and have it from them. Books could be easily hidden, nice clothes could not be. Although Harry tried to make Dudley's cast offs somewhat presentable but he could not work miracles.

He was able to jump higher, run faster, and last much longer in gym class without collapsing when their drill instructor like teacher pushed them to the limits. "Sarge" was what the students called her, at least Harry assumed it was a her. That's what the official word from the school board was, but Harry was not about to verify. He or she was a nasty cuss and actually that was somewhat appreciated by Harry.

Dudley hated her or him for it, imagine that.

Harry remained on his walk, he was checking out some new discovery of the plants that were at this science museum. The young man developed an interest in nature and the beauty of it as well, although it was shame that people were notoriously short sighted.

He arrived through the double doors, sticking near the shadows, careful not to overplay his hand. He saw another girl, within a few years of his age, maybe about fourteen or fifteen years old, standing beside him. She had red hair that reached down past her shoulders in curls and a pair of green eyes that could be seen behind her glasses. She wore a green t-shirt and blue jeans, with sandals. She was slightly taller than Harry, although not by much. He suspected she was taller than most girls her age.

The teenager stated when she looked at the plants with a smile on her face. She was in the apex of her interest. "Fascinating."

Harry looked at her, and smiled. "I know it is."

"Most people wouldn't share that opinion," the girl stated when she looked at Harry, a bit of frustration and a tiny bit of anger going through her eyes. "I...never mind."

"Never mind what?" Harry asked when he looked at the older girl, who took a moment to collect her thoughts.

"It's stupid..."

"Nothing is stupid if you believe in it," Harry responded as he turned towards her. "Those who deny that….well they are the fools."

The young woman decided to throw all caution to the wind. "Well there are more and more trees being cut down every year and...it wouldn't be a problem if we could keep up with the demand. But people don't think about that, they seem to think that there are an infinite number of trees there. And when they start cutting...cutting down endangered species, it's..."

"Calm down and take a breath," Harry responded and the teenager nodded, taking a deep breath before she sank down on her heels. It was no use getting exasperated.

"Well, plants like this, they're rare for a reason," she responded, her green eyes filled with sadness and despair when she tossed her hair back a little bit. "People keep killing them and they don't think what they need to do to replace them. You might think it's stupid but..."

"It's not, trust me," Harry chimed in as he looked into her eyes, with a reassuring expression on his face.

She looked on the verge of getting upset.

"Okay, I've just heard my fair share of snide comments when I try to get people to sign petitions to shut this hack and slash operations down," the redhead stated in a calm and tranquil voice before she closed her eyes and thought about it. "And that's not even counting what they throw up in the air chemical wise."

Harry felt her pain, while he knew that it would be stupid to put plants before people, poisoning the environment in such a way was going to kill people away. The average temperatures increased with each passing year and it was only going to get worse. Both sides of this debate looked bad given the heavy handed way they went at things, always to push an agenda, but Harry was not concerned about how other people looked, he was concerned about doing what he could to build a better future.

"I know, one day, someone's going to do something about it, hopefully it won't be too late," Harry stated, when he looked at her. "Maybe it will be me."

Harry was always one to reach for the stars.

The redhead hoped that he was right. "I'll...do what I can to help."

She stopped and offered a shifty smile. "You know, I've been talking to you for about five minutes and I haven't told you my name."

"Nor you with mine," Harry stated as he offered her to continue.

"Pamela Isley, I'm going to be a Sophomore at Gotham City High next year, I'm over here for a holiday with friends," Pamela stated whilst she focused her gaze on the young man before her "They want to go to the beach or something but I figured I'd stop over here and take a look at these endangered plants. I hope that next time there won't be even more in this exhibit."

"Hopefully they can find a way to preserve and replicate," Harry stated before he added. "Harry Potter...I'm not sure where I'm going this fall, I'm looking into my options, university beckons."

"You must be, what, fourteen, fifteen years old?" Pamela asked as she looked at him, eyebrow raised.

Although he did seem like he was much more mature, so perhaps he was rather young looking for his age, Pamela reasoned.

Harry wondered if he should tell the truth. "I'm actually going on eleven."

This was a statement that caused her eyes to widen and a question of disbelief to cross her face.

"I don't believe you," Pamela answered as she looked at him, skeptical at this belief. "Most eleven year old boys are snotty little twerps and most of the girls as well...no offense to people in your age group."

Harry chuckled when he looked at her. "None taken and point well taken."

"I mean, it's just that…no offense to you meant, but people your age don't act so enlightened," Pamela responded as she chose her next few words rather carefully. "They are among the type that….well they are among the type that tend to think with their posteriors more than their heads."

"Jeez, Pamela, say what you really mean," Harry responded, although he smiled. "Smart, beautiful, enlightened, really, that's a good combination. I wonder if I can keep you."

"No, I'm sure that my parents would want me back in time," Pamela stated, although a blush appeared on her cheeks. She'd be a liar if she was not seriously considering his offer.

"Well, fine, but we'll come back to this in a few years, once your parents might be less inclined to keep you," Harry responded as he leaned forward and teased her hand with a brief kiss to it.

This caused her mind to go into overdrive but she shook her head.

Pamela watched Harry, he was quite the interesting puzzle piece. "So, I'm in town for a few more days, so maybe the two of us can get together and hang out, continue this conversation."

"That would be excellent" Harry responded, feeling good about having someone on his intellectual level to talk to would do him good. Pam did seem to be rather withdrawn in many ways but he could tell that she had a good head on her shoulders and they barely scratched the surface in the time that they were together.

Days had passed since that initial meeting, with Harry and Pamela parting ways and exchanging contact information, so they could write or talk each other. Written correspondence was preferred although it would be pretty slow all things considered. Still, Harry knew that having Vernon, Petunia, or worse Dudley answering the phone would be an appalling situation. He wanted to keep anyone he was friendly with away from that lot as much as possible.

'Ah, back to the asylum,' Harry thought when pushed open the doors of Number Four Privet Drive and turned a moment looking around, a little bit. 'I can't lie...I'll be glad when I'm out of this place on a more permanent basis.'

Harry was not even inside the house for a few minutes when the mail arrived.

"Dudley, get the mail!"

"Make Potter get it, he's home."

"Boy, get the mail!"

'Fat arse,' Harry thought but he decided that since he was approximately three feet away from the door step, he would get the mail. He scooped up the mail in his hand and saw a few bills, a postcard from Aunt Marge.

Oh yes good old Aunt Marge, Harry had to admit that he was not sure who was uglier out of the two between Vernon and Marge or who was manlier rather. It was a toss up. It was funny how Marge resembled her favorite companion, a bulldog. Although the ten, nearly eleven year old, prodigy felt bad about comparing bulldogs to Marge. The poor animals didn't need to be insulted as such.

Yet there was something else.

There was a letter.

A letter for Harry, it rested in his hand, when he held it. It had a crest, with a badger, an eagle, a snake, and a lion, with a "H" in the middle. It was addressed to his bedroom and he quickly stowed it away.

"There you go Uncle Vernon," Harry stated in a completely polite and respectful voice.

Vernon took the mail without a word of "thank you". Then again, Harry did not expect the baboon to have manners. Actually he shook his head, he saw baboons at the zoo that looked more dignified than Vernon Dursley or his offspring acted. He passed Aunt Petunia, who barely acknowledged his presence. It was just as well, he did not acknowledge hers.

Harry walked down the streets. The neighbors did not pay too much attention to them. It was amazing how the Dursleys spread rumors about him being lazy and a juvenile delinquent to try and discredit him. It did the reverse, destroying what little credibility the Dursleys had. The neighbors regarded him with tension due to the fact that he was a bit too smart for his own good but they could not deny his hard working ability with his academic achievements showing up in the paper.

He stopped and slowly opened the letter, reading it.

Dear Mr. Potter.

We are pleased to announce that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You will find enclosed a book and supply list. We will await your owl no later than July 31st 1991.

Sincerely,

Professor Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress.

Harry stared at this letter.

'Await my owl,' Harry thought when he mouthed the words when they went over in his head. 'So...I'm supposed to go back inside and get the family owl because everyone has one of those, naturally.'

As if on cue, Harry saw an owl fly and drop down to the branches across the way. Suspicion flicked through his eyes. Its sudden appearance was too much to be a coincidence. Harry looked at the bird, following its progress with his eyes.

"I suppose this Hogwarts place sent you," Harry stated, feeling stupid for even engaging into conversation with an animal, even though he knew this particular breed of owls to be highly intelligent.

The owl hooted in response and almost nodded his head. Come to think of it, these owls were specially bred, they had to be, and perhaps for the purpose of carrying mail.

"I trust if I'm to post a letter, you will take it to this Hogwarts place," Harry offered, staring down the owl who hooted once again.

Magic would be a logical explanation with what Harry was able to do, he was not going to lie. Providing of course that was not a prank which he found the likelihood to be quite high. Although it would explain the nearly medieval reactions that the Dursleys had to some incidents that he did in the past. And the fact that he was able to hurl Vernon through the wall at super strength, yep that explained that.

Harry decided to write a response, although he would need more information before he decided to make an about face with everything. He had several scholarships to several good schools that he was considering and this school offered him nothing but a letter with vague promises about a mystical art.

Dear Professor McGonagall,

I find your letter to be quite fascinating and it would offer explanations to certain incidents that happened during my life. Although I do require more proof than a mere letter. If you can provide that proof, then I will give your school the proper amount of consideration. Providing you give me the proof but you should know that I am sitting on several impressive offers from some of the top schools in the country. So I do hope that what you have to say is worth my while.

Respectfully Yours,

Harry Potter.

Feelings of impending dread reached Minerva McGonagall, she received Harry Potter's letter mere minutes ago, dropped everything she was doing, and made her way to Number Four Privet Drive. She had a bad feeling about this place and given the tone of Harry Potter's letter, he did not know where his parents came from. Which meant Petunia demeaned the sacrifice James and Lily made and brushed it underneath the rug.

Minerva McGonagall could have passed as a woman in her mid to late thirties, even if she was much older. The magical aging process was quite interesting as it was accelerated prior to the age of consent before going a third as fast or even a fourth depending on the power of the witch or wizard in question.

McGonagall had her dark hair tied back in a bun as was her standard look. She had blue eyes behind a pair of glasses and a face that was always in a stern look. She found the stern look to be the most effective when dealing with problematic students, and she had her share of students over the years that could be troublemakers. Granted, Minerva did get into trouble a few times during her Hogwarts years but only when the situation warranted. There was a time where smiles were needed and there was a time to be serious.

She slipped off from Hogwarts before Dumbledore or anyone else could find out that there was an issue. She knew for a fact that he intended to send Hagrid to fetch young Mr. Potter. Bless his heart, but Minerva somehow doubted that Hagrid would be able to handle this situation. Minerva read between the lines and decided that it was time for her to take action.

She would have heat with Dumbledore later but she would eat that heat. She fought with him tooth and nail about the Snape thing for years before she caved in. Minerva thought that it would be easy to fire back at the Slytherins but that would be playing into Snape's hand as a tragic martyr. The Gryffindors took out their frustrations on most of the Slytherin house because of this and it was a circle of vengeance where there seemed to be no end in sight.

Quite frankly, the only reason why the house system was kept up was because it was tradition. And for Quidditch, one could not forget Quidditch. Minerva could not forget that Snape's Slytherins destroyed her Gryffindors for the fifth year in a row this past season, especially with the fact Snape made snide comments about what happened.

Of course, talking about sports was not important what was important was the action that Minerva was about to accomplish. She raised a hand and threw everything off to the side before she knocked on the door three times in succession.

She waited and watched for the door open. Minerva could wait and the door opened to reveal Petunia Dursley standing on the other end. She was just as Minerva remembered.

"May I help you?" Petunia asked in one of those polite tones of voices that rang false and Minerva was not fooled at for a second. Minerva's eyes narrowed slightly before she stared down this woman.

"Mr. Potter received his letter," Minerva stated and it was at these words Petunia turned the color of rancid milk. "It was a curious response, it is almost as if you did not tell him of his heritage despite the fact that Dumbledore told you to do so."

Petunia stepped back when she nearly fell over and Vernon, who was home from work, walked over.

"Petunia...what the devil are you doing here?" Vernon asked as he looked at Minerva through his beady little eyes.

"I am here because Mr. Potter wrote back a letter, he seemed to not believe that Hogwarts existed, despite you were to tell him about the school when he turned seven years of age," Minerva responded when her eyes flashed. "At least that's what Dumbledore made me believe but you were to inform him of his magical abilities."

Vernon cringed at the "m-word" like it was the "n-word" but he knew better than to say anything right now. His skin flushed over when he thought about everything. His heart thumped a little bit, when he thought about it.

"The boy isn't going," Vernon started; he tried to salvage this and to make himself believe that he had control of his own house.

"I believe that you have little say in the matter, given our laws," Minerva stated, while she most times respected the rights of the parents and guardians, there was a time where she had to make an exception to the rule. She kept a pair of eyes on Vernon ,staring at him with beady fury.

"What is this?"

Harry showed up and stood tall. Minerva frowned at the rags he wore, she was under the impression that the Dursleys were well off and even if they were not well off, they were supposed to get a bit of gold every month which would provide Harry's essentials.

"You wrote to me, Mr. Potter," Minerva stated, keeping her tone cool and professional. "I represent Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and I believe..."

"This meeting is a waste of time," Vernon stated nastily before he looked at Harry. "We've allowed you to go to that school because we hoped that it would stamp this foolishness out of you."

"Stamp this foolishness?" Minerva responded as she turned towards Vernon slowly and he gulped a little bit, realizing that he said too much.

"My uncle seems to think that all imagination should die," Harry answered helpfully when he looked at Vernon.

'Because he's inadequate and has nothing of his own going for him,' he added to himself mentally. 'Really sad that he has to project his short comings onto me.'

"So I trust you don't know what happened to your parents," Minerva stated, trying to keep her cool.

"The Dursleys told me they were layabout drunks and heroin addicts who got themselves killed in a car crash," Harry stated in a casual voice before he threw his hands back and waited for the shit storm that was about to happen.

Minerva mentally counted to ten, even though there was a subtle hint in the back of her mind that she should start in and begin to run down the Dursleys. They demeaned the heroic sacrifice that James and Lily Potter made, because of their...jealousy, that had to be it. Or perhaps because their own lives were miserable but she turned around to face the Dursleys.

"A car crash," Minerva stated in an icy cold voice.

Vernon's temper rose up. "What should we have told him?"

"The truth for one thing would be a good start," Minerva stated in her sternest tone whilst she burned a hole through Vernon with a stern gaze. "James and Lily Potter sacrificed themselves so ignorant people like you didn't have to be hunted down like animals. "

"What is this nonsense?" Vernon asked when he stated through gritted teeth.

"You know, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Dumbledore explained it to you in a letter," Minerva stated and now Harry was curious.

"Who must not be named?" Harry asked but Minerva was not quite done with ripping into the Dursleys.

"All you had to do was tell the truth and treat him like you would treat a child. You didn't have to spend one bit of your money on him even. Yet, you decide to hide the truth from him."

Vernon decided to step forward. "I don't know what lies he told you in that letter but I can assure you that I'll take care of it. And I'll have you know that as his legal guardian, I have a right to tell him what to do. He's lucky he's gotten the free reign he has. He's cheated to upstage our Dudley and he violently attacked me when I punished him with his freakishness."

"Defensive magic, it could be triggered when the young wizard or witch feels threatened," Minerva stated whilst she looked at Vernon through clenched teeth.

"Lies, he attacked me," Vernon stated when the purple vein bulged through his head, when he clutched his fists and breathed in and out heavily. "And I think..."

"If you thought much, you would have done something better with your life," Harry stated in an undertone when Vernon lunged forward.

Vernon tried to attack Harry Potter. Harry thought that he could use another corrective lesson but McGonagall was quicker on the draw. She jabbed her wand towards him and caused him to fall back with a bang, landing on the ground.

Vernon the man was replaced by a walrus on the ground. He flapped on the ground, his eyes still nasty. Petunia's eyes widened and she looked like she was on the verge of hyperventilating.

"You were warned what would happen if you mistreated Harry," Minerva stated crisply before she looked at Petunia's facial features. "I can tell that the protections in this house are doing their job as they should. Your looks on the outside are resembling the animals that you are acting like on the inside."

Petunia gasped at the implications but she heard the fair amount of jibes that she looked like a horse in the face. And she had a long neck, so she also resembled a giraffe in many ways. Dudley looked more piggish but she refused to hear any words against her precious baby boy.

Minerva's eyes blinked when she focused on Harry, before she transfigured the coffee table into a roaring lion that caused Petunia to back up a little bit in fear. She had her few seconds of enjoyment before she transfigured it back into a coffee table.

"I trust you have the proof that you have," Minerva stated when she looked at him.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall, you made a believer out of me," Harry answered whilst he looked at her, with a smile crossing his face.

"If you have anything that you need, then pick it up, otherwise follow me," Minerva responded when she waved at Harry who followed her.

Minerva stopped and turned back around to look at Petunia.

"Your husband will return back to what passes as normal for him in three hours."

She turned back around before she walked out the door with Harry. "This way Mr. Potter."

Harry followed her, knowing that he'd get more information that he did and he could figure out where he could go next. This Hogwarts could give him something to do with his time because he figured that an eleven year old going to university might be a problem. So he would see what McGonagall had to offer, even if he wished to keep his options open.