Multiversal Hotel

Harry shifted in the cramped darkness of his cupboard, the dim glow from the single overhead bulb casting faint shadows across the dusty walls. Two days away, and already the small, dingy space seemed even more neglected, the thin mattress strewn with grit, the cobwebs in the corners thicker and grayer than before. He let out a soft sigh, brushing away a layer of dust from his pillow before settling in.

As he turned on the little lamp, more dust floated down from above, and he could hear faint creaks from the floorboards outside, as though the house itself held a grudge against him for his brief escape. But all of that melted away as he focused on the envelope in his hands, his fingers tracing over the wax seal one more time, making sure it was real.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

With his heart pounding, Harry slipped a finger under the edge of the seal and carefully broke it, pulling out the letter inside. The parchment felt thick and slightly rough, the ink flowing across it in a graceful script that seemed to pulse with life. He unfolded the first page, reading the words with growing disbelief and excitement.

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HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore –Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

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Harry's hands trembled slightly as he read, a warm glow of pride and astonishment filling him. Accepted. He had been accepted to Hogwarts—a school for wizards! A school he hadn't even known existed until Avalon, yet it already felt as if he'd been waiting for this letter his whole life.

Unable to contain his curiosity, he unfolded the second sheet, his eyes scanning the list of equipment required for first-year students. Among the neatly itemized items, his gaze landed on the list of books, a thrill of recognition running through him as he spotted familiar titles from the Avalon bookshelf. He read them carefully, each title a reminder of the books he had already touched, the ones that had whispered of magic and mystery.

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HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black) One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

COURSE BOOKS

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 Wand

1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 Set glass or crystal vials

1 Telescope

1 Set of brass scales

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

Yours sincerely,

Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus

Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions

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Harry's eyes lingered over each title, the names now familiar, yet somehow even more real in this context. He remembered paging through The Standard Book of Spells back at Avalon, where the spells had seemed tantalizingly close yet just out of reach. And then it hit him—he hadn't left those books behind. He still had them, carefully tucked into the enchanted suitcase he'd brought back from Avalon.

A thrill of excitement surged through him as he recalled the other volumes he'd packed, too—books he'd found from magical schools beyond Hogwarts, like Uagadou's The Art of Wandless Magic and spell books that had hinted at traditions he could barely comprehend. Avalon had given him more than just a glimpse of magic; it had given him resources that most wizards probably wouldn't even dream of.

He looked down at the list of books, his heart racing. Not only did he already have many of the Hogwarts-required books, but he also possessed an entire world of magic beyond what Hogwarts offered. In a way, he was ahead before he'd even begun.

For the first time, he felt truly prepared, a sense of belonging mingling with his anticipation.

Holding the letter close, he glanced around his cupboard. The dusty shelves, the cracked walls, the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling—they all seemed to fade away, replaced by the images of Hogwarts he'd created in his mind. A castle brimming with magic, where students learned to cast spells and brew potions. Where he wouldn't be an outsider or a nuisance but a student—a wizard.

He folded the letters carefully, tucking them back into the envelope and slipping it securely into his pocket. A small smile crept onto his face. 'They don't know what's coming,' he thought, a flicker of defiance sparking in him. The Dursleys had spent years keeping him here, hidden away in this cupboard, but now he had something they couldn't take from him.

He lay back on the mattress, one hand resting on the envelope in his pocket, feeling its comforting weight. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he looked forward to the future, his mind swirling with visions of a life beyond Privet Drive.

Several hours later...

A loud, insistent knock echoed through the silent house, jerking Harry awake. He blinked, momentarily disoriented, his hand instinctively reaching for the envelope tucked safely in his pocket. But as his eyes adjusted to the dim light filtering through the slats of his cupboard door, he remembered where he was: not in Avalon, but back at the Dursleys'.

The knocking grew louder, each pound vibrating through the walls. Harry slipped out of bed and carefully opened the cupboard door just a crack, peering out toward the front hallway. He spotted his aunt and uncle stumbling out of their bedroom, muttering furiously under their breath. Vernon's face was twisted with irritation, his jaw clenched as he stomped toward the door.

Harry kept quiet, watching from the shadows as Vernon reached the front door and wrenched it open with a growl. His scowl quickly faded, replaced by a look of shock and alarm as he took in the visitor's towering figure.

Standing there, filling the entire doorway, was a giant of a man. His shaggy hair and beard framed a pair of kind, beetle-black eyes that seemed to twinkle in the moonlight. He wore an enormous coat that looked as if it could hold a dozen pockets and still have room to spare. In one hand, he held an umbrella, and in the other, a box wrapped with a red bow.

"Evenin'," the giant rumbled, nodding politely at Vernon's stunned expression. "Mind if I come in?"

Vernon's mouth opened and closed several times, his face turning a mottled red. "W-what… who… what are you doing here at this hour?" he finally spluttered.

"Rubeus Hagrid's the name," the man replied, stepping over the threshold without waiting for an invitation. He glanced around the small hallway, his gaze settling on Harry, who had cautiously stepped out of the cupboard, unable to hold back his curiosity. "An' this must be Harry. Been lookin' forward to meetin' yeh, lad."

Hagrid's eyes softened as he took in Harry's slight figure and messy hair, but Harry, for his part, was in awe. He already knew he was a wizard—Avalon had shown him that—but here was someone who seemed to know even more. And somehow, standing in front of him, this giant felt like a piece of that new, hidden world made real.

"Are you… from Hogwarts?" Harry asked, his voice barely a whisper.

"Aye, that I am!" Hagrid beamed, his face lighting up as he held out the box. "Happy birthday, Harry. Got yeh a cake. Baked it meself."

Harry took the box, warmth spreading through him as he read the words "Happy Birthday Harry" scrawled across the top in bright green icing. He smiled up at Hagrid, feeling a rare sense of belonging.

But before Harry could say anything, Vernon let out a strangled noise, snapping out of his stupor. He rounded on Hagrid, his face twisted with fury. "What do you mean, Hogwarts? We're not having any more of this nonsense! He's not going to that—place!"

Hagrid's gaze turned steely, his cheerful demeanor fading as he looked at Vernon. "Dursley, I'm here to make sure he gets t' school. He's got a right to know about his world—about bein' a wizard."

Petunia, who had been lurking behind Vernon, recoiled at the word "wizard," her face paling as though she'd seen a ghost. "We swore we'd keep him away from… from your lot," she whispered, her voice trembling. "We promised…"

"Promised? Keepin' him from his heritage, more like!" Hagrid's voice rose, his eyes flashing with anger. "Did yeh really think yeh could stop him from bein' who he is? He's got magic in his blood, Petunia Dursley, same as his mum did. Nothin' yeh could've done would've changed that."

Harry's heart pounded as he took in the exchange. This was it—more confirmation that he was part of a world beyond Privet Drive, a world where he belonged.

Vernon's face turned a blotchy purple, and he puffed himself up, glaring at Harry with disdain. "I won't have it," he spat. "I won't have some… freak living under my roof and bringing—"

"Enough," Hagrid said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He turned to Harry, ignoring the Dursleys entirely. "Harry, Hogwarts is yer school now. They'll teach yeh everything yeh need t' know about bein' a wizard. Magic's part of yeh, like breathin'. Yeh understand?"

Harry nodded, his heart swelling with pride and relief. "Yes," he whispered, his gaze steady.

"Good lad." Hagrid gave him a reassuring smile before turning back to Vernon and Petunia, his expression hardening once more. "If yeh've got any sense, yeh'll let him go. There's a whole world out there he's got a right to be part of."

Vernon looked ready to burst, as Hagrid continued to confront Vernon and Petunia, Harry felt the weight of the words echoing in his mind. His aunt and uncle had tried to hide his heritage, his world, from him—and yet, deep down, he'd always felt that something was missing, something they weren't telling him.

Hagrid's eyes narrowed as he took in Petunia's pinched face, her lips pressed into a thin line of disapproval. He shifted his focus to her, his tone calm but firm.

"Petunia, yeh knew," Hagrid said quietly. "Yeh knew all along what Harry was. Knew what his parents were. An' still, yeh kept it from him."

Petunia's face twisted with an anger that was as much fear as it was hate. She took a step forward, her gaze fixed on Harry with a bitter glare.

"Of course I knew," she hissed. "How could I not, with a sister like that? Lily—the perfect one, the one with all that unnaturalness in her blood."

Harry's mouth went dry as he listened, the full weight of her resentment sinking in. She had known all along. He tried to meet her gaze, feeling as though he were seeing her clearly for the first time.

"Your mother," Petunia continued, her voice cold and almost distant, "was a… a freak. She got that letter, just like you. Went off to that… school and left the rest of us behind. She was always the special one, always the one who got everything, while the rest of us were left with nothing."

Hagrid's eyes flashed with anger, but he stayed silent, letting Petunia continue.

"Then she went and married that Potter," she spat, barely able to say his father's name without a sneer. "And what happened to them, hmm? They got themselves blown up! Died in a car crash, leaving you here for us to take care of."

Harry's stomach churned. He'd always believed what they'd told him—that his parents had died in a car accident. But now, with everything he'd learned, he couldn't help but feel that there was more to the story.

Hagrid couldn't hold back any longer. "A car crash?" he repeated, his voice thick with disgust. "Is that what they told yeh, Harry? That's a lie if ever I heard one! Yer parents didn't die in no car crash."

Harry's head whipped toward Hagrid, his heart pounding. "They didn't?"

Hagrid shook his head, a sadness flickering in his eyes. "No, Harry. Yer mum an' dad… they were killed. By a dark wizard, the most feared one of all. An' yeh survived. The only one ever t' do it."

Petunia scoffed, her arms folded tightly across her chest. "Well, I wouldn't be surprised if he got himself mixed up in all of that. They were always messing with things best left alone."

Hagrid's expression softened as he looked at Harry. "Don't listen to a word she says. Yer mum an' dad were two of the best people I ever knew. Brave, loyal… an' they loved yeh more than anything in the world."

Harry felt a rush of emotions—grief for his parents, anger at the Dursleys for keeping the truth from him, and a fierce sense of pride that these two remarkable people were his family.

Petunia let out a huff, turning her gaze away, but her mouth was set in a tight, bitter line. Vernon, who had been watching the exchange with a mix of confusion and anger, finally found his voice.

"Enough of this nonsense!" he barked, pointing a trembling finger at Hagrid. "You've filled his head with lies long enough. He's not going anywhere with you!"

But Hagrid stood his ground, unflinching. "Harry's got a right to know where he comes from. He's got a right to be part of his world."

Petunia shook her head, her face pale but determined. "Take him, then. If he's so eager to join that world, let him go."

Harry's heart pounded as he processed the words, feeling both a sense of freedom and a pang of sadness. He was ready to leave, to finally step into the world that was his by birthright. Yet he couldn't help but feel the weight of the years he'd spent here, under the thumb of people who saw him as nothing more than a burden.

Hagrid gently placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, his expression softening as he met the boy's eyes. "Right then, Harry. We've got a lot t' see an' do before school starts. Best get yeh set up with yer supplies."

With one last look at the Dursleys—Vernon still red-faced and trembling, Petunia's eyes cold and hard—Harry turned and walked out of the house, Hagrid's reassuring presence beside him.

Outside, as they stepped into the quiet night, Harry took a deep breath, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. At last, he was free of Privet Drive, free of the cupboard under the stairs, free of the endless cycle of questions and longing. He was ready to leave it all behind and embrace the world waiting for him.

Hagrid gave him an encouraging smile. "Yer on yer way now, Harry. Hogwarts is gonna be somethin' special for yeh, I can promise yeh that."

Harry nodded, clutching the cake box and his Hogwarts letter close, and with his other hand, he lifted the suitcase Avalon had given him. Its enchanted weightlessness made it easy to carry, though he couldn't help but feel its comforting, magical presence. Just as he started to walk, Hagrid's gaze landed on the suitcase.

"Blimey, Harry, looks like yeh've got more surprises than I expected," Hagrid said with a chuckle, his thick brows raised in surprise. "Fancy suitcase for someone who's been livin' in a cupboard under the stairs, eh?"

Harry just smiled, holding back the thrill that came with knowing the suitcase's true origin. Avalon was his secret, one he intended to keep for now. "Yeah," he replied quietly. "Guess so."

They continued walking, Harry glancing back only once at Privet Drive, a quiet farewell in his heart. As he looked forward again, the future stretched out before him, filled with possibilities, magic, and a sense of belonging he'd only dreamed of.