Chapter 2: The Boy Who Lived

Today was 10, August, 1991, and Neville Longbottom was going to Diagon Alley in London! He had to wait almost two whole weeks since he got his acceptance letter and he had thought the waiting was going to kill him. But it was finally here, his grandmother was taking him to get his uniform, course books, cauldron, potions supplies, and the rest of the school supply list. As soon as he started carrying around the things he would need to attend Hogwarts he knew that it would feel more real. It is one thing to get a letter saying you are accepted at a school, and then buying the uniform and books to go to that school. Now he would have something tangible to remind him that if he wasn't actually going to Hogwarts he would not have the entire school supply list.

As he was pulling on his jeans Neville heard his grandmother's voice float up the stairs. "Get up Neville; we need to be leaving for Diagon Alley in twenty minutes on the dot." Augusta Longbottom's voice projected well for her age, it didn't have the breathy or weak sound that many people her age had. He snapped the button on his jeans and pulled up the zipper. Found a pair of plain white socks, put those on, and then grabbed a crimson t-shirt from his drawer. The only thing on the crimson sweater was the emblem of a golden lion in one corner. It was the house crest of Gryffindor, where Neville was hoping to be sorted to.

"Coming, grandma!" he yelled back. Then he located his money that he always kept in his sock drawer in the very back left corner of the drawer. Neville knew that he would probably find something in Diagon Alley that he might want to purchase for himself other than the school supplies. So, he grabbed two heavy gold Galleons, ten silver Sickles, and twelve little bronze Knuts then stuffed it deep into his right hand pocket. There, that should be enough for whatever he wanted to get.

He threw open his bedroom door and ran down the stairs two at a time. Being short on time, he decided to put in a piece of toast and would butter it and put some jam on it. Though not a proper breakfast it should be enough to hold him over until they stopped for lunch. "So how are we getting to Diagon Alley?" Neville asked. Judging by how high the sun was up in the sky when he woke up he guessed it was already ten o'clock. He had been thinking to himself that they probably should have left earlier because they had to go into downtown London to get to The Leaky Cauldron.

"An excellent question, Neville. We are going by Floo Powder. You use it by stepping into our fireplace, throwing a handful of Floo Powder down at your feet and speaking clearly the name of the place you want to go. Many places are connected magically and it is called the Floo Network. You can go to any place on the Floo Network you choose to. Remember to enunciate clearly Diagon Alley. Be very specific because if you mispronounce a word it could take you to a different destination then the one you intended to go to. You go first Neville, I'll follow." She told him and gave him a little nudge.

Neville stepped into the fireplace and grabbed a handful of the slightly green powder. His grandmother nodded to him to encourage him to keep going. He threw the green powder at his feet and bright green flames engulfed him. Oddly they did not burn him though they his entire body was covered in them. "Diagon Alley!" he yelled as clearly as he could. The green flames seemed to then propel him up into the fireplace, and before he knew it he was flashing by living rooms and shops and all the places on the Floo Network between him and Diagon Alley. It was slightly disorienting, but also kind of enjoyable knowing he was going to arrive practically in the instant in which he left his homes.

Ever so slightly he began to slow down and then he arrived, spinning in the fireplace of The Leaky Cauldron. Augusta Longbottom had explained to him that the pub was magically enchanted so that the alleyway at the back of the pub ended in what appeared to be a brick wall, but was really a magical concealment of the entrance to Diagon Alley. He hurried out of the fireplace because his grandmother was coming after him. Sure enough after he took his first step out of the fireplace his grandmother appeared. "Well, what do you think of travelling by Floo Powder?" she asked him.

"It was slightly disorienting and almost made me nauseous, but it was also really fun." he replied to her query. Neville looked around the pub. It looked just like any other pub he had ever been too. Tom the landlord and barman of the Leaky Cauldron has a toothless smile and was cleaning a mug. Some of the people in the bar were wearing wizard robes, others suits, and others just jeans and t-shirts. The pub's walls were a deep brown and seemed to suck up all the light in the room. Even though there were candles lit at every table and all over the walls it was still dim lighting in the room. Nothing you could do would make that place bright and happy. That was not what the pub was shooting for; it was a place to come and get drinks and maybe spend the night. Tom wasn't trying to impress anybody with five star qualities.

When Neville Longbottom stepped into the Leaky Cauldron everybody turned and stared at him. He knew they had seen his scar, which was the only reasonable explanation for why they would be staring at a slightly chubby eleven year old boy on his way to get his school supplies for Hogwarts at Diagon Alley. In his opinion that wasn't even a reasonable explanation but for others it was. The whole world knew him by that scar, it wasn't by his blonde hair and blue eyes or his face, and he was always identified by the black mark on his forehead. Most of the time he didn't mind, but when an entire room is staring at you it becomes quite uncomfortable. His grandmother never even looked up at his forehead, she saw him for who he really was. For that he was grateful, yet now he was realizing that to the most of the world he is famous and an icon. He had defeated the greatest dark wizard of all time as a baby; even though he didn't know how he survived he knew people would expect great things out of him.

He could hear a faint murmuring going around the bar now. They were whispering, "it's Neville Longbottom, The Boy Who Lived.", and other things along the same lines. The Boy Who Lived was a title that the wizarding world had chosen to call him. Since he had actually survived being attacked by Voldemort when so many had been destroyed easily gave him an aura of mystery. Nobody knew how he survived, or if they did then nobody had told Neville about it. By all the laws of magic he should be dead; at least that is what logic told him. Yet somehow, some way he was still alive. He did not expect he would ever find out why the killing curse rebounded off of him instead of killing him instantly. Yes, Neville Longbottom was famous, but he was not comfortable in the spotlight. He would have preferred to have nobody notice him.

A couple of the wizards made a line. The one in the front said his name was Dedalus Diggle. He explained how it was such an honor to meet The Boy Who Lived, and Neville shook his hand but it took about a minute before he was able to get it back. Dedalus Diggle was wearing a purple top hat, and Neville was only about four inches shorter than him. Most adults tower over Neville but Dedalus was very short.

Next he met a tall thin man who wore a turban wrapped around his head. He said that his name was Professor Quirrell, and would be teaching him Defense Against the Dark Arts. The thing you first notice upon meeting Quirrell is that he has a terrible stammer. The professor was clearly nervous to be meeting someone famous, and looked like he would be uncomfortable meeting most ordinary wizards and witches as well. "M-my job is to t-t-teach you young Hogwarts st-students how to fight d-d-d-dark wizards, c-creatures, dueling, and m-m-many other things that will help you s-s-survive if you get into a st-st-sticky situation." He shook Neville's hand and oddly his scar started to smart a bit. Must be a coincidence. he thought to himself.

Despite Professor Quirrell's stammer and nervousness around him Neville liked him immediately. Most likely because Neville himself was awkward around new people and would occasionally start stuttering himself. It was something he had in common with a person he was going to be seeing at Hogwarts. Which was good; since Neville didn't think he would have very many things in common with most of the professors. "I'll do my best to be a good student professor." he told him. Professor Quirrell simply nodded and walked back to where he was sitting before he got up to introduce himself to Neville.

There was nobody left waiting to meet with him after Professor Quirrell; so his grandmother introduced him to the barman and landlord of the Leaky Cauldron, simply known as tom. He seemed to be a nice fellow, far from hansom with a toothless smile and completely bald. Tom had blue eyes that had a kindly look about them. Yes, he seemed a decent fellow and kept the Leaky Cauldron in good order even if it wasn't fancy.

Then Augusta Longbottom said, "Now that you've met everybody who wanted to introduce themselves we should go to Diagon Alley. That is the reason we are here after all." She grabbed his arm and led him out the back door of the Leaky Cauldron and led into a brick alleyway. The wall at the end of the alley was about fifteen feet tall. But that didn't stop Neville's grandmother for a second. He just watched stunned as she took out her wand and tapped a brick in the middle of the wall. Neville paid attention to which brick she tapped and noted that it was three up and two across. Instantly the brick wall began to turn into an archway that opened up from the brick that she had tapped. The archway was labeled Diagon Alley and was made of what looked to be iron. So this is Diagon Alley…