The morning of August 1, 1991, cast a soft, golden light over Little Whinging, the suburban streets hushed under the rising sun. At Number 4 Privet Drive, the Dursleys' pristine house stood silent, its occupants unaware of the pivotal moment brewing. Harry, newly eleven, sat cross-legged on the thin mattress in his spare room. The previous night's revelation in the park near the docks still thrummed in his mind.
Harry's letter, received weeks ago and tucked in his journal, had come by owl, but no professor had followed. As he was swimming in his thoughts, the doorbell rang, sharp and insistent, pulling him towards reality.
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Harry slipped his wand into his jacket, the charmed bracelet's faint warmth indicating no immediate hostility. He crept down the stairs, his steps silent. Below, Petunia's voice, shrill with unease, greeted the visitor: "Who are you? We don't take visitors!" Peering through the banister, Harry saw a massive figure filling the doorway, twice Petunia's height, with wild black hair and a tangled beard. The man's patched coat carried the scent of earth and straw, and his voice boomed, warm but firm: "Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper o' Keys an' Grounds at Hogwarts. Here for Harry Potter."
Petunia froze, her face paling, and Harry's mind raced, dissecting the situation. Lena and Jasper had emphasized that Hogwarts sent professors for inductions, not groundskeepers. Suspicion flared, but the bracelet's low warmth suggested Hagrid harbored no hostile intent.
Petunia, stammering, called up: "Harry! Someone for you!" Her fear, likely of magic, was contained by Harry's narrative over the Dursleys; she wouldn't interfere. He descended while keeping his expression neutral.
Hagrid's beetle-black eyes sparkled as Harry appeared. "Blimey, Harry! Yeh look like yer dad, but with your mother's eyes!" The familiarity unsettled Harry—Lena had warned his parents' fame as aurors and Voldemort's victims made him recognizable, potentially a target. He kept his tone guarded: "You're from Hogwarts?"
"Aye, sent by Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid said, pulling a crumpled envelope from his coat. "Yer acceptance letter, though seems yeh got one already. Here to take yeh to Diagon Alley, get yer school things, tell yeh 'bout the wizardin' world."
Harry took the envelope, which was identical to his first. The letter's authenticity was solid, but Hagrid's role wasn't. "I thought a professor would handle this," Harry said, eyes narrowing. "You're the groundskeeper?"
Hagrid shifted, scratching his beard. "Aye, I ain't no teacher. But Dumbledore trusts me for special tasks. I know Hogwarts, the wizardin' world, an' I'm good with creatures. Been there years, Harry. Yeh can trust me."
The admission confirmed Harry's suspicions—Hagrid didn't fit the induction process. This suggested Hagrid was likely genuine, but didn't dispel doubts. Lena had cautioned that Hogwarts, under Dumbledore, had complex agendas, and Harry's instincts, honed with great practice, urged vigilance. But if he refused Hagrid, he risked exposure of his situation to Dumbledore. The bracelet's faint warmth indicated no hostility, supporting a calculated risk. "Alright," Harry said, voice steady. "Let's go to Diagon Alley."
Hagrid's grin was wide. "Tha's the spirit! We'll take the Underground—muggle way, then a bit o' Hogwarts magic to get there quick."
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On the Underground, Hagrid's bulk drew glances, but his chatter about Hogwarts—its castle, houses, and creatures—felt authentic. Harry probed subtly, his intelligence parsing Hagrid's words. "What's Dumbledore like?" he asked, testing loyalty.
"Greatest wizard alive," Hagrid said, eyes shining. "Wise, kind, looks out for every student. Gave me a home when I needed one." The devotion was clear, but vague details kept Harry wary.
At a quiet station, Hagrid led Harry to a secluded corner, pulling a small, engraved stone from his pocket. "This is a portkey," he whispered, "Hold on". The stone glowed, and the world lurched, landing them in a cobbled alley behind the Leaky Cauldron.
The Leaky Cauldron's dim interior hummed with robed figures, their murmurs feeding Harry's suspicion slightly. The bracelet's warmth stayed low, confirming no hostile intent. He followed Hagrid through the pub, the system dormant unless triggered, keeping his focus sharp.
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Diagon Alley's vibrant chaos—owl shops, potion stalls, and chattering witches—greeted Harry, familiar from his trip with Lena and Jasper. He feigned awe, masking his emotions and feelings. Knowing he already had his wand and books, Harry needed to steer Hagrid toward the remaining supplies: a pet, potion ingredients, and school uniform. To avoid unnecessary stops, he focused his intent, channeling a wandless Suggestion Pulse at Hagrid, a technique honed under Jasper's guidance and enhanced by his wand's Lethifold essence. The pulse, subtle and precise, nudged Hagrid's mind: Focus on buying a pet, potion supplies, and school uniform.
Hagrid blinked, then nodded. "Right, Harry, let's get yeh a pet, some potion stuff, an' yer Hogwarts robes?" Harry shook his head, relieved the suggestion worked.
At the Magical Menagerie, Harry surveyed the cages. A snowy owl caught his eye, her sharp eyes mirroring his own alertness. "That one," he said, naming her Hedwig. Hagrid paid, and Harry's Status would later note the owl as a non-magical asset.
At the apothecary, Harry selected potion ingredients—bezoars, lacewing flies, and unicorn hair—guided by Lena's potions primer. Hagrid, oblivious to the suggestion's influence, approved the choices.
At Madam Malkin's, Harry was fitted for Hogwarts robes, the black fabric crisp and formal. Hagrid's stories—about Hogwarts' forest and his love for creatures—felt genuine, but his groundskeeper role gnawed at Harry.
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Over stew at the Leaky Cauldron, Harry weighed his options. Hagrid's non-teacher status and Dumbledore's involvement raised flags, but the bracelet's low warmth and Hagrid's actions—delivering the letter, guiding safely—suggested no hostility.
Lena and Jasper's advice to blend in while gathering intel supported the proceeding. "I'll start Hogwarts," Harry said, meeting Hagrid's eyes. "Thanks for the help."
Hagrid's grin was warm. "Yeh'll love it, Harry! Best place there is!" He handed Harry a Hogwarts Express ticket.
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In his spare room, Harry opened his system's Magic journal.
He created a new protocol: Create a new feature, Hogwarts Intel. Track information about Hogwarts staff, students, and layout, prioritizing strategic value. Save the protocol.
'Hogwarts Intel' Protocol saved. Ready to record data.
Testing it, he input Hagrid:
Hogwarts Intel: Rubeus Hagrid
Role: Keeper of Keys and Grounds, non-teacher, no magic outside Hogwarts.
Strategic Value: Dumbledore's trust, grounds access, creature knowledge.
Note: Verify motives, monitor at school.
As night fell, Harry prepared for Hogwarts, by planning for the things to do before the day of school opening.
[Word Count: 1066]