DISCONTINUED
Harry wasn't what anybody expected. Well, that's not exactly true, in fact he acted exactly as expected in front of them. He'd been left with the Dursleys, and had spent nine long years basically as their slave, not even knowing his nam...
It was his birthday today, his eleventh one, to be precise, and Harry was waiting at Number 4 Privett Drive for his Hogwarts letter. He'd used his connections in Gringotts to discover today was to be the day it came, and frankly, the only overwhelming emotion he was feeling was boredom. The letter wasn't the exciting part of this for him, he really just wanted to be learning and around kids his age.
Why was there nothing to do? Even though the Dursleys were now unable to prevent him from watching television, he'd discovered he hated it anyways, and much preferred reading books-
Slapping a hand over his eyes, he shook his head and silently called himself all sorts of stupid. This was just embarrassing. Harry took out is current book on Dwarvish Runes, and found himself quickly engrossed.
It was quite interesting, really, the runes were almost 2x stronger than the elven-made ones and a good 14x stronger than wizarding runes. The runes had to be very specially prepared, and most dwarves were unable to make them due to the intricately difficult forming process and how magically expensive they were. To create a Dwarven Runestone, one had to be of incredible power and talent, and there simply weren't many dwarves that fit the requirements. According to the book, there had also never been a recorded case of any other creature being able to craft a runestone.
Due to the difficulty of acquiring them, most runestone sets belonged to older families and were passed down from generation to generation, carefully kept out of thieving hands. The book had pictures of the most famous runestone collection, which was the largest set ever to have been made and continued to grow through the generations, though none currently alive were making runestones to be put into the collection.
There were about four hundred in the set, each hewn of polished white moonstone with the runes engraved carefully and filled with gold. Each was roughly a quarter the size of an adult's palm, or half the size of his. The set belonged to the dwarven royal family, and the publicly known runes were said to be displayed in the castle while the more private, unknown, or dangerous ones were hidden away somewhere people wouldn't find them.
Harry read on, curiousity growing, and was reading how the runestones' cores and base stones/woods were decided when the fluttering of wings interrupted his information gathering.
He gently closed the book and placed it on the table beside him as a lovely barn owl came swooping over to him, a letter securely grasped in its beak. Reaching out, he watched as the bird placed it into his extended hand and she ruffled her feathers, for it was a her, he could tell just by her face.
With a silent command, he set out a dish of water and one of dried meat so that the owl could eat before having to make her return journey. The letter, he now saw, was addressed to Mr. H Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs, 4 Privett Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.
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Dear Mr. Potter, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.Yours sincerely,
