Harry was riding the thunder.

He knew that was impossible, though. It wasn't possible to ride on a sound. His entire body vibrated with it and he awoke inside the smelliest bundle of cloth he had ever experienced, and he had worn Dudley's old unwashed clothes.

Harry pushed open the bundle he had been wrapped in to get some fresh air, then almost choked when he got too much air. He gasped as high winds and rain pelted his face. He tried to block some of it with his hands and looked around at where he was. It took him a minute to realize he was in the sidecar of a motorcycle.

“WHAT'S GOING ON?” Harry yelled over the sound of thunder, which was actually from the motorcycle.

“Harry, yer awake.” Hagrid said, his voice full of relief. “I was about ta stop off and land at St. Mungos if yeh hadn't woken up on yer own.”

“Stop off... and land?” Harry asked, confused. He kept his face mostly covered and turned to look out of the side of the motorcycle sidecar and only saw dark clouds. No road. No buildings. There was nothing but clouds. “AHHHHHHH!” He yelled, terrified. He had never been let out of the house for more than half an hour, let alone flown up into the air.

“Blimey, Harry. Calm down.” Hagrid said. “Hold on, I've got somethin' fer that.”

Harry screamed incoherently as Hagrid let the handlebars of the motorcycle go to start searching his pockets. They started to plummet towards the ground and Harry ducked down into the stinky clothes and huddled in on himself as he waited to die. He would have wet himself again if he had anything left in his bladder.

“Ah, here! I got it.” Hagrid said and put a hand on the handlebars. The motorcycle pulled up out of the steep dive it had been in and flew back up to the proper height. Having never experienced a change in gravity like that before, let alone several g-forces on his tiny and weak body, Harry opened up his mouth and emptied his stomach.

After a few moments, he was only dry heaving and managed to stop.

“Better out than in, I always say.” Hagrid said. “If I knew yeh weren't feeling well, I mighta stayed on the roads fer a bit.”

Harry glared at him, clearly angry, and didn't tell him that it was his fault. For some reason, he knew that the giant man would just shrug it off.

“Here, Harry. Drink this.” Hagrid said and handed him a small vial. “You'll be feeling all right after.”

Harry stared at the little glass vial and wondered how brain dead the big oaf was, if he thought that a boy he just met would willingly accept a strange drink from him because he claimed it would make him feel good after.

Hagrid wasn't sure what was wrong, so he explained as best as he could. “It's just a pepper-up potion.” He said and shook it. “It makes yeh alert and lets yeh understand things better for a short while.”

Harry carefully took it from the giant's large hand. “Why didn't you drink it already?”

Hagrid gave him a big toothy smile. “I fergot I had it til now, ta be honest.” He said. “It's been in my pocket fer... well, I can't remember.”

Harry sighed and thought about refusing, then what the giant man said finally registered. I'm holding a magic potion in my hand. He thought, amazed. A. Magic. Potion.

All doubt fled Harry's mind and he popped the little cork, then he downed the whole thing. What Hagrid didn't tell him, or knew for that matter, was that depending on the potion, the strength increased the longer it sat. Just like fermenting alcohol. Hagrid had that potion for quite a long time, so when Harry drank it all in one gulp, it practically exploded in his stomach.

Harry was extremely lucky that he had just emptied his stomach, because the expanding potion filled the space instantly. He would have thrown up explosively if there had been anything left in there. Instead, the potion immediately went to work. His entire body turned red, instead of just his face like it was supposed to, then Harry's ears burst out with steam with a very loud train whistle sound. It lasted for almost six minutes, instead of the ten seconds it was supposed to.

Hagrid looked a bit concerned, until the steam and the whistle died down. “Harry? Are yeh alrigh'?”

“I'm... fine.” Harry said, and he was. His mind was clear and alert and he wasn't afraid anymore. The wind and the rain didn't bother him at all now and he was happy about that. He also realized something that he hadn't quite grasped before. He was currently riding on a flying motorcycle. An actual, honest to god, flying motorcycle... and he didn't freak out about the impossibility.

Harry's hand touched the letter he had tucked under his clothing and he knew for a fact that everything it said was true. Magic is real. It exists. He thought, then he smiled. I'm going to learn magic.

“Hold on now. I'm coming in fer a landing.” Hagrid said.

Harry only sat back and braced his feet inside the bundled coat, which did the same thing, and it held him steady. The motorcycle landed on the empty street with several bumps and Harry didn't shake or move at all. Hagrid parked it and hit several buttons on the gas tank, then he took the keys and pocketed them.

After another use of the simple cleaning spell to mostly clean Harry's shoes and his coat of throw up, Hagrid spoke. “Follow me, Harry.” He said and wiped off the chunks of sick that the spell had missed. “Stay close. I don't wanta lose yeh in the crowd.”

Crowd? Harry asked himself and followed the giant man into a dingy old bar called The Leaky Cauldron and it had the picture of what it was on the sign. Ha. A cauldron is an old cooking pot.

“Ho, Hagrid.” The barman said when they entered. “What brings yeh here on a day such as this? It's a bit early for yer usual.”

“I'm bringing young Harry here to get his school things, Tom.” Hagrid said, proudly.

“Bless my soul.” Tom the bartender said. “Harry. Harry Potter.”

The whole bar fell silent at Tom's words and everyone turned to look at him, then they all looked at Harry.

“Welcome back, Mr. Potter.” Tom said excitedly and came out from behind the bar. “Welcome back.” He said and grabbed Harry's hand before he could pull away. “Welcome back!”

Suddenly, Harry was surrounded by greeters, well wishers, hand shakers, and multiple pats on the back. Even with a clear mind, he didn't bother trying to remember any of their names. He knew that he was probably never going to see them again and there wasn't much point to make the effort.

“Ah! Professor Quirrel!” Hagrid said as they moved across the room. “Harry, Professor Quirrel is gonna be one of yer teachers at Hogwarts.”

“P-P-Potter.” Professor Quirrel stuttered and took Harry's hand to shake it. “I c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to m-meet y-you.”

The sound of grilling meat filled the bar and no one could tell where it was coming from... until Professor Quirrel started screaming.

“AHH! AHHHHHH! Let go! LET GO!” Professor Quirrel yelled and everyone looked at him. His hand was locked together with young Harry Potter's and it looked to be burning up from the inside.

Harry was frozen solid at the man's terrified screams and couldn't let go, even though he really wanted to, and everyone watched as the hand he held turned to something that looked like burned ash. The burning flowed up Quirrel's arm and into his chest as he continued to scream in pain. Everyone was just as stunned as Harry was and no one reacted or tried to stop it, not even when it was much too late to do anything about it.

The screams cut off as the effect moved up into Quirrel's throat. His eyes were nearly popping out of his head in shock, then the hand Harry held crumbled into dust. The crumbling continued, as did the internal burning effect, then there was a blood curdling and inhuman howl as Quirrel's face was consumed. His chest caved in and the body dropped to the floor. The turban he had on his head rolled slightly away and left only a pile of clothes and ash.

No one noticed that, however. They were too busy staring at something that shouldn't exist.

To everyone's utter shock, a ghostly fog with a human-like face was left floating there. Another howl escaped the thing and then it zoomed out of the bar and out of sight.

Bokuboy

I know some people are going to be upset about this, so I want to make things clear. Professor Quirrel actually does shake Harry Potter's hand in Chapter 5 of the first book. Yes, really. What I described actually should have happened.

Edit: I forgot to mention that in the movie, they change the scene and Quirrell doesn't take Harry's hand to shake it. ?

Bokuboy

A bit more of my explanation: As far as I know, Quirrel was on vacation / hunting something in Albania in a haunted forest, and was possessed / gave himself up as a host. It's why he was wearing a turban that year, because he had gained the quirk during the summer break to hide old Voldy's face (he hadn't worn a turban before then).

He had just come back from vacation and was hanging out in Tom's bar, the Leaky Cauldron, to listen for news about himself and the latest word on the death eaters.

Harry showing up like he did, both in the books and the movies, caught him completely off-guard (since no one knew he was being brought that day). He also doesn't know about the curse / protection of Harry that his mother's death gave him. Of course, neither does Harry.