Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, and Number Four Privet Drive had gone through big - and when I say big, I mean big - changes. Harry Potter now lived in the second bedroom of the Dursley house, for one. Books were scattered all over the house, for two. For three, uh... there's only two reasons.
Today was June 23, 1991, an extremely special day that both Harry and the Dursleys would remember fondly. Harry got up, convinced that he was going to cook breakfast today-
He glared at the thin woman who Dudley seemed to take after. Petunia smirked back. She had gotten to the kitchen first, after all. It was her turn to cook food for the family.
"Darn it!" Harry muttered, walking back upstairs to his room. "Drats!" His head hit the pillow, and he drifted off.
Two hours later, Harry came back downstairs, followed by Dudley. "What's for breakfast today?"
"Eggs and sausages and toast and bacon and-"
"Mom! You know I don't eat that much," Dudley whined. It was true. Normally, he was so engrossed in his books that he ate so little so quickly, just to return to reading. This time, he was stuck with a book called Guns, Germs, and Steel.
"Dudders! It's your birthday, anyways!" Petunia scolded. "Eat up some!
"Yeah, Dudders," Harry snickered.
Dudley reluctantly picked up his fork, stabbing some scrambled eggs. "Harry, how many times do I have to tell you to note call me that-"
KNOCK! KNOCK!
"Hello?" a woman's voice echoed. "Is anybody here? I'm looking for the Dursley residence!"
"I'm right here!" Harry shouted, bolting from his seat, running from the kitchen, and lunging for the door-
-before getting smacked out of the way by Dudley, who bolted straight for the door-
-who got pushed to the side by Petunia Dursley, who turned to look at the two boys. "Ha!" she crowed merrily, before unlocking the door. "Welcome to the Dursley- WAIT, it's you again!"
"Yes, it's me again," Professor McGonagall said irritably.
"I-it's y-you!"
"Yes, it's me."
"B-but-"
"Yes."
"Are you the same one-"
"-who delivered the letter to Lily? Yes."
"Oh."
"I'm here to deliver the Hogwarts Acceptance Letter-"
"-to Harry James Potter? You're early-" Petunia interrupted.
"-No, it's addressed to one Dudley Dursley."
"What?"
"I'm delivering this letter to Dudley Dursley," the professor repeated.
"U-uh, I'm right here," the aforementioned boy said timidly. "I'm Dudley Dursley."
Professor McGonagall stared at him. "I'm here to bring you to Diagon Alley, so you can get ready for Hogwarts. Feel free to bring any family members."
"Would it be okay if we used this opportunity to get Harry's supplies too?" Petunia asked. "I mean, I don't want to keep going back and forth-"
"Yes, it's fine," the teacher said. "Do I need to prove the existence of magic? Or anything?"
"No, it's fine," Petunia said. "Come on, let's go!"
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at this, but she shook her head while reaching for Harry, Petunia, and Dudley. There was a twist-
-a SNAP!-
-and they had arrived on the street. Harry was jostled by some people passing through the crowd, though he held onto Petunia's hand as they passed through the streets.
Professor McGonagall sighed. "Normally, I'd take you guys to Gringotts, but the school has a special fund if you're disadvantaged-"
"No," Petunia said. "We'll pay for it. Lead the way to Gringotts!"
McGonagall's lips twitched before she marched the group to the end of the street (trust me, it's a really long street). Right before they entered the bank, Harry noticed-
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn,
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
"Hello," Professor McGonagall said, walking to the nearest booth. "We are here for the withdrawal of money for Harry James Potter, as well as the creation of a Gringotts vault for Dudley Dursley."
"Wait a second," Petunia said. "The vault is under my name, since I'm the one paying for it."
The goblin, Ragnok, sneered. "Unfortunately, muggles cannot own vaults."
"What?"
"Muggles cannot own Gringotts vaults. Dudley is the only wizard in your family, so he gets the vault."
Petunia gnashed her teeth in anger. "We'll go to Harry's vault first, then we'll talk about this later."
"Your key, please."
Professor McGonagall blushed a deep shade of crimson-red. "Oops...er...I didn't think that you would bring Harry with you...so I didn't get Harry's key-"
"-and why would you have his vault key?" Petunia asked.
"That's something I would like to know myself," Ragnok said, leaning in to hear McGonagall's explanation.
"Er..." Professor McGonagall said, startled by the questions. "I e-er d-don't exactly kn-know myself..."
Ragnok sneered. "I'll need some of Harry's blood to verify his claims, then. Gringotts will fashion him a new key. The old key will no longer work. Do you understand, McGonagall?"
She nodded quickly.
"Now, Harry, come with me. We'll have to go to the Blood Verification Chamber at once." A door opened behind his booth, and Ragnok motioned for Harry to join him. Petunia stepped forward- "Not you, muggle."
The two walked into the entrance down a plain hallway decorated only by lights and torches adorning the passage. "So," Harry said, trying to start up a conversation. The silence was getting awkward and oppressive. "How's your day?"
"Fine," Ragnok bit out.
The silence just became more awkward and one-sided. "That's great!"
"..."
"..."
"..."
"..."
"This is the Gringotts Atrium," Ragnok explained as the light came closer, signalling the end of the tunnel. Harry sucked in a breath as he entered the room. It was huge, with massive tunnels branching out everywhere. In the center of it all...there was a large, golden statue. A lone goblin stood, his dagger stretched upward, as if to challenge the humans that hung around in the upper parts of the bank. Molten gold poured out of his mouth and steamed as it flew downward into the rest of the golden fountain.
Harry wondered how that worked. If they were melting the gold, how wasn't the statue melted? Perhaps magic had some charms to prevent the statue itself from melting.
"This way," Ragnok bit out, his firm hand dragging Harry right, then left, then right again, with two more lefts. "We're here. The Blood Verification Chamber."
Two goblin medics bustled towards Harry, dragging him to the chair. "This is going to hurt," the first said.
The second brought out a knife, and Harry instinctively flinched. "Whoa!" Harry said.
"Look!" Ragnok shouted. "It's Bigfoot the Yeti!"
Harry looked away- "OW!" The blood flowed freely from his arm into the bowl the first medic had out right under his arm.
"Hey, normally my distraction doesn't work!" Ragnok exclaimed.
The wound healed just as quickly, after a quick potion, though Harry felt betrayed. He had never ever felt such deep pain. "So..."
The medic dropped the bowl onto a piece of parchment, where ink began to form. "James Potter... Lily Potter... Charlus Potter... Dorea Potter... Rose Evans..." Harry murmured.
"That's you then, Mr. Potter. We'll have to wait for another goblin to bring the keys, though."
"It's fine," Harry said.
"It won't be much of a wait, anyways," Ragnok said. "Our carts are very fast. In fact, I think I can hear it right now!"
"Really?" Harry asked skeptically. "No way-"
A cart zoomed into view. "Griphook, bring the key over here!" Ragnok shouted.
"Here you go, Ragnok sir," the goblin said respectfully.
Ragnok grabbed the key and handed it to Harry. "We'll return back to the surface to collect the woman, the other woman, and the boy."
Griphook snorted, trotting off the cart and into the deep recesses of the cavern. Ragnok jumped into the cart, with Harry following shortly after-
"WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!"
Ragnok snorted. "I did not think you would gain such...pleasure...from such rides," he said, throwing his hands back as well, hoping to enjoy the thrill of the ride.
"I'VE NEVER BEEN THROUGH SOMETHING AS BRILLIANT AS THIS!" Harry shouted back, the wind blowing his face into huge proportions. "THIS IS AMAZING!"
"It would be nice to have a human like you working here at Gringotts," Ragnok said calmly. "You don't seem as condescending towards us like other wizards," he said. "We can offer you a job starting at 100 Galleons a year once you graduate from Hogwarts, though the number would change depending on your credentials."
Harry grinned. "Sounds interesting! What do you do here?"
"We store money," Ragnok said. "We find money. We make money. We buy money. Have I mentioned that we store money?"
Harry snorted. "Yes, you have. It sounds very...interesting."
Ragnok bared his teeth in an eerie smile. "It is interesting, Mr. Potter." The cart slowed to a halt, and Harry's grin was reduced to a small smile. "We're here!" the goblin said, jumping out of the cart, showing Harry the way back to the booth. They had somehow skipped the Atrium on their return trip.
"Hi!" Harry exclaimed, waving at the waiting group. "Hope we weren't gone for too long!"
Professor McGonagall sighed. "Lead the way, Mr. Ragnok."
Half an hour later, they walked back out onto the streets, dizzy as heck. The Professor and Petunia were both swaying on their feets, while Dudley stumbled around like he was drunk. Harry was disoriented and actually ran into three people, though it stopped being such a big problem after a few minutes.
"I'm going to have to get a...drink," Professor McGonagall said. "You kids go on to Madam Malkin's Robe Shop. I'll guide you there, then I'll go onto Tom's bar."
Two minutes later, Harry and Dudley found themselves alone in the shop. Even his own mother had abandoned Dudley in favor of a drink. "Hello?"
"Oh...uh...me and my cousin are here for some robes."
The salesgirl rolled her eyes. "Why else would you be here? Sit in the seat and wait for Madam Malkins."
The two boys complied, and while they were waiting-
"Yes, that book," Harry said. "What's interesting about this one?"
"Actually," Dudley said. "I've read this one before. The Art of War, by Sun Zi?"
"Oh, that one," Harry said. "Psh, you and your silly little books."
"I'll have you know that my books are infinitely better than your silly little computers!"
"I'm sorry, but my computers are neither silly nor little!"
"I'd beg to pardon! Besides, there's a reason why you're wearing glasses!" Dudley exclaimed.
"You're wearing glasses too," Harry pointed out.
Dudley flushed crimson red. "Yeah, but..."
"Hello?" A plump woman appeared. "Oh, you must be here for your robes! Oops!"
"Yes, they're here for their robes," the salesgirl said. "What else would they be here for?"
"Don't listen to her, sweetiepie! She's...special."
"I can hear you!" the salesgirl shouted.
"Psh, whatever. Anyways, I'm Madam Malkins, and I'll be fitting your robes today." Almost immediately, her assistant appeared and began fixing Dudley up, so Harry waited awkwardly while he was being fitted. The door opened again just as Madam Malkin brought out her ruler, just as a girl walked in. Harry waved at her.
"Hello!" she said, excited. The girl's parents walked in with a really, really short person (Harry wasn't trying to be rude, but he was...short). "Is this Madam Malkins?"
"Yes," Madam Malkins said without turning around. "I'm Madam Malkins. Who are you, sweetie?"
"I'm Hermione Granger!" the girl exclaimed. "Uh...where do I stand?"
"Right next to Harry, please!" Hermione bounded straight to the pedestal right next to Harry.
"So...Harry...I heard you two talking about the Art of War!"
"You've heard of it?" Dudley asked, surprised. "Based on how dumb my cousin is-"
"-HEY!-"
"-I was surprised that anybody knew what it was!"
Hermione grinned. "Finally! A fellow bookworm!"
"I would fistbump you if I could," Dudley muttered. "Unfortunately, I'm getting fitted." To demonstrate his point, Madam Malkins' assistant poked him with the ruler once. "Ow!"
"Right," Hermione said, not listening. "Anyways, you know the part where Sun says 'When you surround an army, leave an outlet free. Do not press a desperate foe too hard', right? It's in... Chapter... er... I don't remember which chapter it's in."
"Uh...yeah?" Dudley said. "Random topic change," he muttered.
"My parents and I disagree on how we should interpret his words," she said. Her parents only glanced up once from the Wizarding newspaper they were reading. "They thought it literally meant 'no pincer movements'."
"Isn't that what he's saying?" Dudley asked. "Leaving an outlet free means that you don't surround them."
"But that's contradictory! When you say 'surround an army, but don't surround it', that's hypocritical!"
"Some people make mistakes," Dudley said, shrugging.
"What I think," Hermione said. "Is that Sun Zi is telling us that we have to be merciful."
"What?" Dudley asked. "I don't see the word 'merciful' anywhere in that quote."
"Firstly," Hermione said, sounding very authoritative. "Translations don't always work well. Secondly, I think that's the implied meaning."
"Implied meaning? How do you get that?"
"See, back at the Battle of Kursk, the Germans were surrounded. Under other circumstances, they would have fought desperately for a way out, but they probably expected some mercy. So that was their outlet out! They could surrender - and still survive!"
"Sure," Dudley said. "That makes sense, but if they surrendered, they could still turn against the Germans, right?"
"Y-yeah," Hermione said, stumbling out of shock of finally being challenged once. "But what's most important is getting your opponent to surrender, which is especially true on the battlefield."
"What's the point of the victory if it's not absolute?" Dudley asked. "The point of a victory is so that you win, not so that you lose!"
"But how do you get to that victory?" Hermione asked.
"You learn enough to force your enemy to back down!" Dudley exclaimed.
"Is learning the solution?" Hermione asked. "Or is forcing your enemy to back down the solution?"
"The first one leads to the second one," Dudley said. "So I'd say the first is more important. Knowledge is more important than the ultimate victory, since having it will eventually lead to the ultimate victory."
"But surrendering is necessary for the ultimate victory, since it's literally a pre-requisite."
"Knowledge-"
"Done!" Madam Malkins exclaimed. "We're finished here."
"Thanks," Harry said, paying her the appropriate amount of money.
"Wait, lad," Hermione's father said. "Where are your parents?"
"Dead," Harry said. Behind him, Madam Malkins and Hermione gasped, while Hermione's parents clutched their hearts. Dudley sighed.
"Oh my gosh. I didn't mean to ask such an insensitive question...where's your guardian?"
"Oh, Aunt Petunia is out for a drink."
"A drink?" Hermione's father muttered to his wife. "Come, we can bring you to the stores. Professor Flitwick is guiding us, anyways."
"Yup! Right here!" Harry's head swiveled around, trying to see the professor. "Here!" Harry continued to turn, looking for the Professor, but he couldn't-"Below you!" Harry looked down. Oh, that was where he was!
"Oops. Sorry about that..."
"It's fine, young man," the Professor said. "Come on, let's go!"
"Over the rivers and through the woods, to Ollivanders we go!" Harry sang, skipping through the streets-
The group slid to an abrupt halt. "What is this?" Professor Flitwick cried.
The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.
Ollivander evidently was not present. Professor Flitwick had the feeling that he wasn't here, almost like a goblin's sixth sense.
"We'll just have to knock, right?" Hermione's father asked, curious. His hand rapped smartly on the door.
No response.
Professor Flitwick's sixth sense was telling him that something fishy was going on here.
Had Olivander been kidnapped?
Taken from his home?
Killed and murdered?
"Oh no!" Professor Flitwick squealed, diving into the shop.
A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which Professor Flitwick sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions which had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.
"Ollivander, are you okay? Garrick? GARRICK? Oh no, where are you-"
"BOO!"
"AHHHHH!"
An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. "I have to try that more often," he said, chortling. "I assume this is young Harry Potter and two muggleborns?"
Professor Flitwick nodded. "Right as always!"
"We'll have to begin immediately!" Ollivander exclaimed. ""You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work. Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course. And that's where…"
Mr Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.
"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands … Well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do …" He shook his head.
"Hmmm," said Mr Ollivander, giving Professor Flitwick a piercing look. "Well, now – Mr Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"
"Er – well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.
"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."
Harry suddenly realised that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.
"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try –"
Harry tried – but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr Ollivander.
"No, no – here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."
Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.
"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not – unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."
Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Professor Flitwick whooped and clapped and Mr Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well … how curious … how very curious …"
He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious … curious …"
"Sorry" said Harry, "but what's curious?"
Mr Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, its brother gave you that scar."
Harry swallowed.
"Yes, thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember … I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter … After all, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."
Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr Ollivander too much. He paid seven gold Galleons for his wand, and Hermione stepped forward for her wand.
"Ah, muggleborn?" Ollivander asked, not even bothering to wait for an answer. His hands sprung into action, measuring Hermione from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head.
"Right then, Ms Granger. Try this one. Oak and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
She waved it a little, but-
He had taken it back. "No, no, it simply won't work. Try this one - Willow and Unicorn Tail hair. Eight inches."
She tried again-
"No," Ollivander said, taking the wand back. "I think we had more results with the dragon heartstring. Try this Willow and dragon heartstring, ten inches."
She tried-
"No," Ollivander said, grabbing the wand. "Still, it's improving. Let's try breechwood and dragon heartstring."
She-
"No," Ollivander said. "Much better than Unicorn Tail hair. Let's try Blackthorn and dragon heartstring."
S-
"Nope," Ollivander said. "I feel like you'd be better with vine and dragon heartstring."
She-WHOA, she had finally finished a thought without interruption from Ollivander! Great! Anyways, she waved the wand, and sparks flew out.
"Wonderful!" Ollivander exclaimed, clapping. Dudley stepped forward. After around four or five tries, he ended up with Blackthorn and unicorn hair wand.
Filius grinned, paying Ollivander fourteen galleons. "Wonderful!" he said. "Now, let's go to our next location," he said, leading the group out of Ollivanders' shop. "Moving on to-"
"Filius!"
"Huh?"
"Filiu!"
"Where?"
"I'm right here, you dolt!" Professor McGonagall appeared, her cheeks blushing red. "Oh, that's where you are, Harry and Dudley! Petunia and I had worried that we had lost you!" She belched, forcing the group the recoil a bit before giggling a bit.
"Pardon her, please," Professor Flitwick said. "I think she's drunk-"
"Drunk?" Professor McGonagall asked. "Ha haa! No, I am not!"
"You best apparate back to Hogwarts," Professor Flitwick said, just as Petunia appeared. One CRACK! later, McGonagall was gone. "Hello, Petunia."
"Hi," Petunia said, almost just as drunk as Professor McGonagall.
"We'll have to go outside Diagon Alley to get you on the Knight Bus," he said, leaving with Petunia. "I trust you to keep Harry, Dudley, and Hermione safe!" he shouted back to the Grangers.
Mr and Mrs Granger nodded resolutely. "Professor Flitwick got us cauldrons while we were waiting."
"He got the cauldrons and glass-?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Yeah, he got them for you while you guys were in Madam Malkins. Now onto Flourish and Blotts!"
The bookstore itself was nice and quaint. Harry, Dudley, and Hermione immediately began scouring the bookshelves, trusting Professor Flitwick to get the essential books. After all, there were more...interesting...books to be found. Almost immediately, Harry began seeking out information on the basic school subjects.
"Hogwarts: School Curriculum," Harry mused. He picked it out and stood reading it for a good 12 minutes before putting it back. "This Arithmancy sounds interesting," he said, grabbing two on it, Numerology and Grammatica and New Theory of Numerology. I already know some math, so maybe I could apply it to magic?
"I'll take Ancient Runes Made Easy, and maybe Transfiguration for Dummies, and The Standard Book of Spells. That should be enough for the rest of summer." After all, Ancient Runes seems to be an elective I'd want to take when I'm in third year, Transfiguration is mandatory-hey, Dudley's been rubbing off on me again!
Dudley had been transfixed by some books about the History of Magic, while Hermione had just bought the whole store. Dudley had chosen some obscure books about the Chongzhen Emperor of the Ming, Ivan the Terrible, the recent Wizarding World War (with Grindelwald and Dumbledore), and the Goblin Rebellions.
Hermione, on the other hand, had purchased indiscriminately, though her main restriction was that she was only going to buy books about her current subjects. She bought all seven years of charms textbooks, transfiguration books, along with all other required books up to third year.
Whatever, Harry thought, sitting down between two shelves in the Arithmancy section. Let's start reading!
'Before we start anything on true Arithmancy,' Harry read. 'We must first understand arithmetic. To help us understand it better, this book suggests using your fingers to count. For example, if you have the math problem 1 + 1 = x, then you would use one finger on your hand. Then, because you are adding a one, you would hold up a second finger. After that, you need to count your fingers. One, two. I believe that should help you understand addition. In case the above arithmetic problem is complicated, you can simplify...'
What? Harry thought, shocked. Teaching addition using 1 + 1? While saying it may be complicated? Encouraging using fingers to count? I'll skip past this chapter, Harry decided.
'Chapter 2: Subtraction-'
HECK NO! Harry thought. I've done this before. 1-1 is obviously 2! I'll move on to-
'Chapter 3: Multiplication-'
...moving on... Harry thought.
'Chapter 4: Division-'
Nope, Harry thought simply. Not even going to look at the rest. The next chapter should start actual Arithmancy, I hope.
'Chapter 5: Exponents-'
I swear, this book is only teaching what I learned several years ago!
'Chapter 8: Uses of Arithmancy'
FINALLY! Harry's brain cried out in relief.
'Arithmancy is used...'
Two hours later, Harry had both the required books and some (a lot) extra books, and they were heading out to the Magical Menagerie.
"We're here!" Professor Flitwick announced before entering the shop. "If you want an owl, you'll have to go to Eeylops Owl Emporium, I'm afraid." After staying inside the Menagerie for a good 2 minutes, the group moved on to the Emporium.
"Hm, that's a Barn Owl, a Snowy Owl-hey, that one looks cool!" Harry exclaimed. The Snowy Owl gave a hoot. "I think we could be friends!"
The clerk showed up immediately. "You want Owl No. 5238? Sure. 15 galleons, please." Harry handed over 15 galleons.
"Nice choice," Professor Flitwick said. "This Snowy Owl looks cute!"
The owl hooted.
"But not as cute as me!" Professor Flitwick exclaimed. "Geez, I'm kidding! Come on, let's go." After crossing the border into Tom's Leaky Cauldron, the group found themselves back on the streets of London. Professor Flitwick brought out his wicked wand and gave it a flick-
-BANG!-
-and a bus somehow appeared. Written on its side in huge letters were the letters-
K
N
I
G
H
T
B
U
S
"-I guess this is where we say goodbye," Hermione said, while Flitwick was giving directions to the conductor.
Harry and Dudley nodded. "We'll see you at Hogwarts, though," Dudley said. "Besides-WHOA-!"
The bus immediately began flying through the London traffic, going everywhere at once. Inside the bus, the passengers were tossed right - then left - then right again - a shove forward - a push back-
"We're here!" the conductor shouted, as Harry and Dudley slowly walked down to the ground.
"Remember, here's your ticket to the Hogwarts Express. You just need to run into this wall, and it'll send you to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Have a fun summer, Harry and Dudley!"
"Thanks, Professor."
"No problem, Harry! Have a wonderful summer!" The man let out a CRACK! and disapparated again.
"I guess we're back," Harry mumbled, sitting down on the pavement next to Dudley. "Hey, let's just relax in the nice sun and read some nice books!"
Dudley nodded, flopping down next to him with the book about Ivan the Terrible. Time quickly passed.
A minute.
Two minutes.
Three.
Five.
Twenty.
An hour-
-until what sounded like a stampede reached Harry's ears.
"Dudley! Quick, run in! Piers Polkiss is coming!" Dudley quickly ran into the house, bringing both Harry's belongings and his own.
"Oh look, it's Potty!" The rat-like boy snickered. "What are you doing here?"
"This is my house, dumbbutt."
"Oh, really?" Piers asked mockingly. "What? How? Your parents are dead!"
Harry gritted his teeth. "At least my parents were good people! Unlike yours-"
"Don't insult my momma!"
"See? They didn't even raise you with manners!"
Piers looked annoyed. "Potty, I think it's time for you to stop defending your nerdy brother-"
"He's my cousin."
"Whatever. I've told you so many times - there's no reason why we should be enemies-"
"Get out!"
"-there's no reason-"
"He's family, and that's reason enough. GET OUT!"
"-no reason-"
"BOY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" Uncle Vernon's voice boomed threateningly from where he stood at the doorway.
"Er..." Piers mumbled before turning away and running.
"Come here, Harry," Uncle Vernon said, smiling. "I'm proud to call you my nephew. Now, give me a hug."
Thanks for reading and reviewing! PLEASE REVIEW AND BE SUPER NICE - it makes me feel all happy on the inside!
USA83: Thanks so much for catching the errors! They have been fixed.
Sakura Lisel: They're family, so I'm sure they can still cooperate in terms of money.
Arabella Lee Smith: Thanks!
Auror Dafni: I'm glad you think it's funny!
Guest(s): Thanks for the reviews, guys!
JamesPotter: Thanks!
XxThe-Crest-Of-AnubisxX: The story follows canon (in the beginning), except the Dursleys are nicer. Of course, apart from the first two chapters, Harry's change and Dudley's entrance should shake things up quite a bit.
Less Wrong: Are you sure that it's in Rowling's style? Maybe Chapter 1 was, but 2 isn't as much. And three definitely isn't.
Just in case you're wondering, I actually did randomize the list of professors, and McGonagall came out. How random!
And yes, the Madam Malkins' scene was not random. It will influence something later.