It seemed Hogwart's Headmaster was important, or at least had a lot of titles. The letter itself was distressingly vague. It told when it needed a reply and when school started, but that was it. Well, this wouldn't do at all. She pulled out some paper and a pen from a drawer and began writing as Vernon looked over the two pages.
Dear Mrs. McGonagall. We received your letter hopefully promptly today, on July 24th. However, no one in my family has gone to Hogwarts except my Sister, Lily Potter (Lily Evans at the time). We need a lot more details... Where do we go to get his supplies, where do we get that money they use, how do we get him to school, and so forth. We would also like a better method of communication, such as a non-magical mailing address or non-magical phone number, some way we can contact our nephew while is so far away.
Harry has many personal questions he would probably like answering as well, questions involving a certain dark wizard and his parents. Until he remembered that horrible night, I didn't even know what had happened to my own Sister! We have spent the last two years trying to contact anyone in the magical world to get guidance on the best way to raise a magical child, but have found no one willing to talk to us.
Please send someone to help us prepare our charge for a new world. If we can not be assured that he will be cared for properly, then we would rather not send him alone to who knows where.
Please respond soon;
Petunia Dursley (Formally Evans).
She looked over and handed the letter to Harry, who had stood next to her half way through the letter. He added some script at the bottom.
Dear Mr. Dumbledore, Mrs. McGonagall, Or whom it may concern;
I am not entirely sure why I was abandoned with people who could not care for my unique condition, but I have a working theory. Needless to say, a face to face meeting is a necessity, as I have already gained some experience of the darker side of your world and very little of the less evil variety.
If you or your associates are unaware, my parents were murdered by a dark creature of a man named Voldemort, who... Harry sighed and marked used a thread to erase the last sentence. It was probably not safe to trust a bird of all things with this kind of information. Bending back over the letter, he tried again.
I have a list of needs that must be fulfilled for me to consider joining Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Top of this list is a guide to help us on our journey. The lack of information in your introductory letter is both disturbing and feels disrespectful, considering how much you know of my local situation (As shown by the address).
Please respond;
Harry James Potter.
A quick signature and Petunia read it over. After she nodded, he walked to the front door as she began explaining to Vernon and Dudley what had happened and what they were doing at the moment. He walked down the mailbox, and looked closely at the owl.
Who just happened to be looking closely at him.
Creepy.
Harry took a breath. "Are you a mail delivery owl, one capable of delivering a response to an acceptance letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft an Wizardry?"
The owl looked for a second, then bobbed its head.
Harry shrugged. "Good enough for me." Not like they had any other options really, it was owl way or the high way honestly. He saw some string on the owls leg and tied the letter back on, with the new label on the outside directing it to "Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts". Almost instantly the owl took off and flew in a straight line away. He sighed. Hopefully he had actually responded instead of assaulting random wildlife. He turned back to the house, ready to start the whole waiting process again. The wizarding world may have separated from the non-magical one, but clearly mail delay had made it across the gap just fine.
Professor McGonagall was normally a tall witch, wrapped in propriety and draped with the feeling of suppressed power. Her stern expressions normally set children firmly within the rules and her professional manner gave her great respect within the teaching community.
Right now though, she was draped over a chair before a desk covered in parchment. Lesson plans for her next year had to be updated with changes and discoveries in the magics of Transfiguration, some of which she was proud to have discovered herself over her 70 years. Plans for new seventh year projects, forms to help her little lions try and get ministry positions or apprenticeships, even rough letters to old friends whom she hoped would be able to give advice for some of her more difficult charges.
She tucked an errant strand of hair back under her hat. All this work, and she couldn't even begin on it until more of her Deputy Headmistress responsibilities had been addressed. She had spent most of the morning going through dozens of letters to new students, and every year the process seemed more daunting. A good number this year had to be sent via the muggle postal system and she had been forced to go bother Professor Burbage about the proper method of sending bulk letters. Thankfully the Muggle Studies professor had not minded the interruption, but Charity had always been a dear.
Wishing for another cup of tea to help keep her headache suppressed, she went back through the various responses. Thankfully most of the new witches and wizards managed to get a response sent by owl this year, so only a few home calls would be needed. Maybe she could delegate a few, she knew her work load was unreasonably high this year.
She absently looked at the solid door leading deeper into the castle. Albus Dumbledore, her fearless leader, the leader of the light... She shook her head. He had been doing better for a while, but once again he seemed very distracted. If the political climate was not so volatile, she would be tempted to beg him to retire. A grim look settled on her face as she leaned back into her chair.
Lucius Malfoy had been pressing hard. As a governor of Hogwarts, he had been repressing almost everything, from replacing teachers, giving raises or hiring assistance, even just replacing older equipment like the school brooms. As bad as he was in the political arena, the damage he was causing just being a brick on the board of governors was hurting the future of the wizarding world much more.
Her eyes flashed with resolve. Well, not if she could help prevent it. True she had better offers from other friends, places with low work loads and high pay... but there were things more important than money. Her tired eyes looked back at a letter response from a familiar name. She was not sure why she hadn't been able to remember the son of her favorite student and one of the four most infamous pranksters... but she would do everything in her power to help him.
With a flick of her wand, she gathered her muggle traveling kit and moved to change into something less conspicuous. Whatever magic Albus had placed on dear Harry Potter, it clearly had worn down to where she could remember him again, and it was worth putting her work on hold to help the boy who had saved them all. Petunia was just cleaning up after lunch when she heard the front door give a firm knocking. Wiping her hands dry she opened the door to see a severe-looking woman with dark hair tied into a bun. Her posture was prim and she wore a rich dark robe... and they both seemed surprised at the other.
After an awkward pause, the woman seemed to pull herself back on track. "Mrs. Dursley, I presume? I received communication that you wished to converse with me. I am professor McGonagall for the school your charge has been invited to."
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