Later that night, just before falling asleep for what Harry believed to be the fourth time today, Harry reflected on his day.
Somehow, someway, he had been named Harry again, something that he was very happy about since it would have been really awkward trying to get used to another name. Though a part of him couldn't help but wonder how odd it was that he got the exact same name again, he wasn't really going to complain about that but it was still a bit weird.
Harry had spent a great amount of time in his life wishing to see his parents again, wishing he could get the love and affection that he had seen other parents shower upon their kids. The kind of affection that Norman and Emily seemed insistent on showering upon him. He knew they weren't his original parents, they weren't James and Lily Potter, but then again...they were also his birth parents. A part of Harry felt like he was betraying his other parents, but was he?
He didn't think so, he would always love James and Lily, always appreciate the sacrifice they made for him. But he didn't really know them, he had heard stories about them, seen a couple of pictures, but that was it. Why should he deny himself the opportunity to get to know Norman and Emily? Harry wasn't going to start believing that he had suffered more than anyone else in existence, but he had suffered a lot. Voldemort took James and Lily from him, the Dursleys ruined ten years of his life and the next few years he spent suffering under attacks from dark creatures, the government and Voldemort again. Even the people that he had been trying to help, with the exception of his friends, had turned on him twice. Maybe this new family was the universe's way of saying sorry.
A big part of Harry couldn't help but be happy about being in a new world with a new life, and not just for the fact that he had a new family, it meant that Harry could get another chance at having a childhood. The Dursleys had ruined Harry's childhood in more ways than one, honestly, Harry thought it was a miracle that he was even able to make two friends. But it wasn't just Harry's social life that had been damaged, his education had also taken a great hit. The two adult Dursleys, seemingly not connected to the same reality as everyone else, were under the incredibly incorrect belief that their son, Dudley, was an angel in human form.
So if Harry, the freak, got a higher grade than him, then obviously he was cheating and deserved to be punished. Something that taught Harry early on to tank his grades if he wanted to get through the day with a barely sufficient amount of food and a smaller chance of getting beat up. That habit had also continued over to Hogwarts, sure Harry knew that Dursley hated magic in general and couldn't give two hoots about if his grades at magic school were good, but it was hard to get over something that has helped keep you safe for years. Not to mention Hermione and Ron, Harry knew that the two of them wouldn't leave him if he got better grades than them, they had been through too much together. But Ron did have moments of jealousy, a great example being during the Tri-Wizard tournament where Ron thought that Harry had cheated his way in, he didn't think that Ron would have acted badly to Harry having good grades but he didn't want to risk it. Plus at the time, he was more than happy to goof off and play with Ron, having a friend after being isolated so long was more important to Harry than studying.
Then there was Hermione, who studied more than what Harry thought was healthy. She was a great friend, but unfortunately, she was also incredibly competitive, Harry couldn't help but worry about her spending more time in the library trying to do better if he ever had managed to get better grades than her. Even if his grades didn't get as good as hers, he worried that she would try to make him study more than he wanted. Hermione took her studies very seriously, she might have been perfectly fine with spending an entire day in a library, but Harry wasn't. He admittedly liked studying stuff he was interested in, but he also wanted to have fun doing other stuff, unfortunately reading books was the only thing that Hermione found fun. Harry loved his friends, but they weren't really helpful when you were a socially inept boy who craved friends but also wanted to study a lot.
Now, Harry could start over, he could study a lot and nobody in his family would mind. Emily seemed supportive while Norman was a scientist himself, so they clearly wouldn't object if Harry decided to read a lot of books when he wasn't playing around. He could make new friends too, find somebody that shared his interests. Plus, Harry could enjoy the benefits of having a rich family. He wasn't money obsessed like Malfoy, but that didn't mean he doesn't understand the importance of it. The Dursleys had always forced him to wear second-hand clothes because they didn't want to spend money on him, now he could have his own wardrobe of clothes that fit him and the very thought of that brought a smile to his face.
Though admittedly he did have his fair share of concerns about living with the Osborns, one small reason was that they were - from what he understood - living in America, a place that Harry had never been to before, but he had heard stories about it. According to a 'very reliable source', all Americans were loud and fat wastes of space, and if you couldn't trust Uncle Vernon then who could you trust?
...
Apparently, you couldn't trust Uncle Vernon, who'd have known? Harry had spent a few years living with the Osborns and had confirmed that not all Americans were fat, he also confirmed that not all of them were loud, just a lot of them.
Harry's life with the Osborns, while very, very awkward at the start due to the fact that he had been in a baby's body, was pretty good all in all. Emily was exactly what Harry had imagined Lily Potter was like, a loving and caring mother that always seemed to have time for him. She was, for lack of a better word, perfect, at least as far as Harry was concerned. Norman was often away on some business or the other, but Harry wasn't really angry with him.
It turned out that Norman wasn't a regular businessman, he was the head of Oscorp, a multibillion-dollar multinational company that Norman created and ran as its CEO. Oscorp apparently had a hand in everything from genetics to tech and pretty much every available field of science there was. So while Harry wasn't entirely happy about it, he did at least understand, plus Norman did do his best to make up for it when he wasn't being drowned in paperwork.
Right now, an eleven-year-old Harry found himself waiting in a school hallway with his mother while his father was in the principle's office, discussing Harry's possible enrollment in what Harry was told was a very nice private school. Over the years Harry had learnt a few differences between America and Britain, such as the way people would say things. Thankfully, his mother was actually born and raised in England, so Harry had an excuse for any bits of British-ness that slipped through by simple saying he picked it up from his mother. One difference was the school system, in magical Britain you would spend your first years of life being taught by your parents or a school depending on your money and blood status, at least until you were eleven, then you'd be off to magical school until you were seventeen. In the muggle version, you have to go to primary school and then high school, which was pretty much all Harry remembered from his muggle side of things, even though he never went to high school. But the American system seemed a bit different.
Firstly there was pre-school which was optional but Harry's parents had sent him there in the hope of helping him develop social skills, then there was kindergarten/elementary school which Harry understood to be the same as primary school. Now Harry would be starting high school, from what he understood it was divided into junior high (AKA middle school) which would be grade six to eight, while the grades after that would be regular high school.
'Why don't they just have it all be called high school?' Harry couldn't help but wonder as he stood up.
"Harry, what are you doing?" His mother asked.
"I'm just going to go to the toilet, Mum," Harry answered, gesturing down the hall to the toilet.
"Okay, please be quick, dear."
"Hmm, okay Mum." Harry nodded before he walked off to the toilet.
A minute later Harry was washing his hands in the kitchen sink, thinking about if he actually wanted to go to this high school...or middle school...or whatever it was called. On the one hand, it was quite impressive looking and would look good on any future applications he might make, plus it could be quite good for him since he was quite advanced in comparison to kids, mostly due to the fact that he had studied most of this stuff before, but also because he was no longer worried about Uncle Vernon pulling a belt out if Harry got good grades. But on the other hand, he really wanted to be around regular kids his age and have a childhood as close to normal as possible, not to mention that the last time he went to a private school he ended up getting attacked yearly. But surely this school wouldn't be anything like Hogwarts, would it?
"Hello," A voice said just as a boy started using the sink next to him. "are you going to join here as well?"
"Um...yeah, I...am..." Harry paused as he took a good look at the boy next to him, a haughty looking, pale boy with blonde-nearly white hair that was slicked back. 'Please tell me that this is a coincidence.' He mentally begged.
"Hmm, my parents are waiting to talk with the principal, it's ridiculous that he hasn't already talked to them." The boy drawled as he began washing his hands. "After we're done my parents said we could go to a game store, I think I'll bully father into getting me a new bike as well. I'm Drake, by the way. Drake Malter."
"Right," Harry dully replied, 'are you kidding me with this?' He thought to himself. 'Drake Malter, seriously?'
"Do you have a bike?" The boy, Drake, asked.
"I'm more of a skateboarder, personally," Harry answered, he had tried riding a small skateboard a few years ago and eventually got quite good at it, it was no broom but he liked it well enough.
"Skateboarding?" The boy sniffed. "Isn't that a bit...uncouth?"
"That's a matter of opinion," Harry shrugged, not knowing what else to say.
"Hmm, well, do you do anything else? I'm quite a big fan of soccer," Drake smirked. "my father says it would be a crime if I'm not picked for the school team."
"Really?" Harry asked, 'have I somehow found a muggle Malfoy?'
"Yes, I wouldn't be surprised if I became a national level player," His smirk grew bigger. "especially since I'll be coming to this school. It was easy getting in here with parents like mine, are your parents...you know..."
"What?" Harry raised an eyebrow as he turned the tap off.
"You know, rich?"
"Um...yeah."
"Good," The boy nodded approvingly. "I know the school makes some exceptions for some kids who aren't rich, but I think they shouldn't. If they can't afford it then they shouldn't be allowed to come, don't you think?" Drake asked Harry who had finished drying his hands. Harry stopped and stared at Malfoy's muggle counterpart for a good few seconds before he turned around, and without another word, walked away. He walked out of the bathroom and towards his mother who was looking at some art posted on a wall opposite her. Harry stopped next to her and tugged on her sleeve, causing her to look at him.
"Mum, I don't want to go to this school."