The Weasley Manor was bustling with activity that summer. It had become a home full of ughter, with the usual chaos of the Weasley family mixed with Harry’s ever-growing anticipation. Ron had recently received his Hogwarts letter, and Harry could hardly contain his excitement as he eagerly awaited his own. For weeks, he had wondered if the letter would come at all. It wasn’t that he wasn’t sure he was magical—it was simply that Harry wasn’t entirely sure when his birthday was.

  Since the Weasleys had brought Harry into their home, the Dursleys' neglect had left Harry unsure about the details of his past, including the exact date he was born. But as much as he didn't know about his origins, he had an unwavering belief that his birthday would be July 31st, just like Charlie Potter’s had been. Deep down, Harry felt a connection to that date, as if the universe had made it clear to him. It felt right.

  July 31st arrived, and Harry’s excitement reached a fever pitch. He could hear the sounds of breakfast being made downstairs—Fred and George were undoubtedly cooking up some pranks to serve alongside the morning meal—but Harry’s mind was entirely focused on what the day might bring. He had been talking with Ron the night before about their shared excitement, and Ron had tried to calm him down, but there was no stopping Harry’s anticipation.

  “I know it’s today,” Harry muttered to himself, pacing in his room. “It has to be.”

  Downstairs, the Weasley family was gathering around the table. Ron, now fully aware that he would soon be heading off to Hogwarts with Percy, was practically bouncing in his seat. “What do you think my first day’s going to be like?” he asked anyone who would listen.

  “Not sure, Ron,” Fred said, shaking his head as he juggled three eggs on his fork. “But you’ll probably end up getting detention on your first day.”

  “Yeah, for looking too good,” George added with a wink. “Can’t have anyone stealing your spotlight.”

  Harry smiled at their antics, but his mind was still focused on the task at hand. What if this was the day? What if his letter came? He couldn’t help but feel a flicker of hope.

  The Weasleys were busy with their usual morning routine when Harry’s letter finally arrived. It was a typical summer morning at the manor, with Fred and George up to some mischief and Ginny practicing her Quidditch moves out in the yard. The scent of bacon and eggs wafted through the house, mingling with the sound of ughter.

  But Harry, perched near the window in his room, was watching the skies. He had read all the books he could get his hands on, and with each one, his desire to go to Hogwarts grew stronger. He couldn’t wait to meet the people he had heard so much about and learn everything he could about magic.

  Then, he saw it—a rge brown owl, soaring across the blue sky toward the manor. It was carrying something heavy, something important. Harry’s heart raced. This was it.

  With a flutter of wings, the owl nded neatly on the windowsill, hooting once before extending its leg for Harry to take the letter. He quickly reached out and grasped it, his hands trembling slightly as he tore open the envelope.

  Inside, Harry’s eyes scanned the words that would change his life forever.

  "Dear Mr. Harry Potter,

  We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of required books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl.

  Yours sincerely,

  Minerva McGonagall

  Deputy Headmistress"

  Harry’s mind was racing as he read the letter. Harry Potter. His full name—Harry Potter. He hadn’t even realized that his heart had been holding its breath until the moment the letter confirmed what he had always known deep down. The Potters. The name that he had long since reconciled with the idea of. But it wasn’t just his acceptance letter; it was his Hogwarts identity. The name “Harry Potter” felt like a key unlocking something far greater than just an admission to school.

  He stood still for a moment, staring at the letter. His emotions were a mixture of joy, confusion, and anger. Harry had no idea what to make of it. He felt a strange connection to the name, one that was more than just academic. And yet, it still didn’t feel real.

  Suddenly, there was a noise downstairs. Fred and George had heard the owl’s arrival and were rushing toward the stairs. “What’s that? Is it your letter, Harry?” Fred called.

  Without thinking, Harry opened his door and made his way downstairs. Ron, Ginny, and the others had gathered in the hallway, waiting eagerly to see the letter he had received.

  “Open it, Harry!” Ron urged, his eyes wide with excitement.

  But when Harry opened the letter to show them, the Weasleys all froze. They stared at the words written on the front of the envelope—Harry Potter, Tenth Bedroom, Weasley Manor. The name “Harry Potter” was unmistakably engraved on the envelope in elegant, flowing script. For a moment, there was complete silence.

  “Did you… did that say Harry Potter?” Fred asked, his voice high with disbelief.

  “Wait—Harry Potter? But you’re officially Harry Weasley now!” George added, his brow furrowing in confusion.

  Harry, sensing the panic growing in the room, looked down at the letter again, his fingers trembling slightly. “I… I don’t understand. This is the letter I got. It’s addressed to me… but why does it have Harry Potter on it, not Harry Weasley?”

  Molly Weasley rushed over, her face pale as she took the letter from Harry’s hand and looked at it in shock. “But Harry…” she trailed off, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “This doesn’t make sense. You’re Harry Weasley. We’ve legally changed your name Harry Weasley.”

  “It’s just a mistake,” Percy said, though there was an uneasy note in his voice. “Perhaps it's just a mistake with the address.”

  “No,” Molly said, her voice trembling. “No mistake. Harry Potter is engraved right here on the envelope.”

  The soft crackle of fmes in the hearth suddenly fred to life, the green light of the Floo Network casting shadows on the stone walls of Weasley Manor. Molly Weasley, holding Harry’s Hogwarts letter tightly in her hand, jumped in surprise as a familiar, elderly voice called out from the fire.

  “Molly, dear, if you could spare a moment? There are urgent matters to discuss, and I do believe it would be wise for you to come to my office.”

  It was Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts, and the tone of his voice immediately made Molly’s stomach knot with concern. She had seen him many times before, but this time, there was an urgency that made her heart race. She exchanged a gnce with Harry, she was still holding the letter addressed to him as Harry Potter.

  “Of course, Headmaster. I’ll be there in just a moment,” Molly called back, stepping quickly toward the firepce.

  She turned to her family, her face pale. “Stay here. I’ll go speak with Dumbledore.”

  With a muttered word, Molly stepped into the fmes and was whisked away in an instant. Harry stood by, his mind swirling with confusion, unable to fully grasp the weight of everything that was happening. He had just learned the truth about his name—Harry Potter—and now, he was about to witness something that would answer some questions, but create others.

  Moments ter, Molly arrived in Dumbledore’s office. The fmes settled, and Molly stepped forward, her heart racing. She blinked as she saw not just Dumbledore, but James and Lily Potter sitting in front of the Headmaster’s desk. Harry’s real parents.

  “Ah, Molly,” Dumbledore greeted her warmly, though there was an edge to his voice. “Thank you for coming. Please, sit. I believe it’s time for some expnations.”

  Molly felt her stomach lurch as she took a seat across from the Potters. Lily’s eyes met hers, filled with a strange mixture of sorrow and determination. “Molly, we’ve been waiting for the past few days. We saw the letter being sent out. It was addressed to him… Harry Potter. He’s our son.” Her voice trembled, but there was a firmness beneath it. “He’s our child, and we want him back.”

  Molly’s heart raced, and she barely managed to hold her ground. She had expected this—Harry’s parents, after all but hearing the words come out of Lily’s mouth made everything feel surreal.

  “Back?” Molly’s voice shook, but she kept her composure. “I don’t understand. You want him back after all these years?”

  Lily’s face softened, but her tone remained firm. “We had no choice, Molly. When Harry was a baby… when You-Know-Who's followers were onto us, we had to make a choice. And we thought we were protecting him, keeping him safe. But now, we see how much time we’ve lost. Harry’s our son, and I want him back. He deserves to know us, to be with us.”

  Molly could feel the anger bubbling up inside her. “You want him back?” she asked, her voice tight with emotion. “You abandoned him, Lily. You left him to be with those—those monsters who were supposed to care for him. You didn’t even know he was alive, let alone—”

  “Molly, please,” James interrupted, his voice calm but tinged with regret. “I know this isn’t easy, and we don’t expect it to be. But we want to be a part of his life. We just want to make it right.”

  Molly stood up, her chair scraping loudly against the floor. She didn’t care. Her heart was racing, her mind a whirl of conflicting thoughts. “You don’t get to just waltz back into his life after all this time,” she said, her voice rising with every word. “You didn’t know he was alive. You didn’t care! You sent him to live with people who treated him like dirt, like he wasn’t even worth a second gnce. The Ministry didn’t care, but I did. I did, Lily. I saved him. I gave him a home.”

  Lily’s eyes filled with tears, but Molly couldn’t stop herself. “You think you can just walk in now, take him back, and everything will be fine? He’s been through so much already, and you weren’t there. You weren’t there for him when he needed you most. I was.” Molly took a deep breath, trying to steady her emotions, but the words had already spilled out. “He’s my son now, Lily. I’ve been the one to raise him, to give him the love and care he deserves. And I’ll be damned if I let you come in here and rip that away from him.”

  James looked pained by Molly’s words, but he didn’t interrupt her. Instead, he looked over at Dumbledore, who had been sitting quietly, observing the exchange.

  “I… I didn’t know it would be like this,” James said softly, his voice filled with sorrow. “I never meant for things to turn out this way. I never meant for Harry to grow up without us. But we didn’t have a choice back then. We had to protect him.”

  Molly turned to Dumbledore, her voice shaking with emotion. “Headmaster, this isn’t right. Lily and James have no right to ask for Harry back. Not after what they did. They abandoned him, and now they want to come in and take him away from the family who’s loved him all these years. I will not let them do that.”

  Dumbledore nodded gravely, looking between Molly and the Potters. He didn’t say a word for a moment, but the weight of the silence was palpable. “Molly is right,” Dumbledore said finally, his voice soft but firm. “There are many complexities here, and it would be unwise to make any rash decisions. The Potters have been through a lot, and I understand their desire to be with their son. But Molly, you have cared for Harry, loved him, and raised him as your own. That bond cannot be dismissed so lightly.”

  Lily looked down, unable to meet Molly’s eyes. James squeezed her hand gently, but there was a sadness in his eyes that seemed to acknowledge the truth of Dumbledore’s words. There was no easy answer here. Not for any of them.

  “Molly,” Dumbledore said gently, “I know this is a difficult and painful situation, but Harry must be given the choice. You’ve raised him with love and care, but Harry must decide what he wants. That’s only fair to him.”

  Molly stood still, feeling as though the ground had shifted beneath her. She had protected Harry, loved him as her own. But the Potters were his real parents. She didn’t know how to reconcile these feelings.

  “I can’t just give him up,” Molly said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can’t.”

  “We don’t want to take him from you, Molly,” Lily said softly, her voice breaking. “We just want him to know us, to have a chance to decide for himself.”

  Harry’s name echoed in Molly’s mind, and she closed her eyes, her heart breaking at the thought of losing him. “I’ll let him decide. But, Lily, James… you need to understand that I am his mother now. And I will do everything I can to protect him.”

  The Potters nodded, understanding the depth of her love for Harry. The conversation wasn’t over—it had only just begun. And no matter the outcome, Molly knew one thing for certain: she would not let anyone take her son away without a fight.

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