II
Harry woke up later in the morning but didn't bother to get up just yet. Instead, he thought about his situation, trying to decide on what to do.
Ever since the disastrous visit to the Ministry of Magic, Harry had felt rather ambivalent; he both wanted to do something and occupy his time and thoughts, and just lie around and do nothing but think; he both wanted to see his friends, and just stay away from people in general. This state of mind did nothing at all to help him plan a course of action.
Knowing that his friends and the Order were there, on his side and ready to help him should he need it, meant a lot to Harry, but it didn't dispel the feelings of apathy he had felt while at the Dursleys'. When not writing the occasional letter to Ron or Hermione, he had spent most of his time lying on his bed, staring into space. He couldn't take his mind off the loss of Sirius; even during the few hours of sleep he got every now and again, his godfather's death haunted him...
Harry had barely felt up to anything; however, the recent incident with the Dursleys had spurred him into action. He might have gone straight to The Burrow if it hadn't been the break of dawn. Harry hadn't wanted to inconvenience the Weasleys when they were likely still in bed. They would have questioned his sudden appearance too, and he didn't feel he could have answered them. As it turned out, Harry had spent a couple of hours sitting outside The Leaky Cauldron under his Invisibility Cloak, waiting for the pub to open. The only thing that had been on his mind at the time was getting away from the Dursleys and to somewhere safe where could be alone and think.
Being alone now at The Leaky Cauldron only accentuated the feeling of needing time to himself, away from everyone that reminded him of the prophecy and his loss. Though he missed Ron and Hermione, and knew they would listen to his problems, Harry didn't want to burden anyone with his miseries. He would write to them later. Having the freedom of doing whatever he wanted without someone watching his every move was a rare occurrence for Harry. He knew it was also very dangerous at this time and he would have to be careful.
Harry was famous in the Wizarding World, however, therefore easily recognizable. This led Harry to deciding that he had to be inconspicuous- and the best way for him to do that was to continue to move around, and possibly spend most of his time in the Muggle world, where he wasn't known. To do all this Harry needed Muggle money, and to get Muggle money he needed to exchange Wizarding currency- and he could only do that in the Wizarding bank, Gringotts.
With a destination now in mind Harry sat up and stretched, wincing when he moved his wrist. Looking at it, he saw the purplish discolouration- and winced again. Sighing, Harry grabbed his wand from the bedside table and pointed it at his wrist.
"Ferula," he said.
A bandage wrapped itself tightly around the limb, splinting it. Harry examined it and tested his wrist, before shrugging and getting changed.
That morning, after a quick breakfast, Harry went out into the small courtyard out the back of The Leaky Cauldron, took out his wand, tapped the third brick from the left above the dustbin and waited for the archway to appear- and that was when he received his first shock.
Diagon Alley was a long, winding cobbled street lined with mismatching shops that sold all sorts of wizarding needs. Harry could remember his first visit here, when the street was crowded with people bustling about doing their shopping.
The first thing Harry noticed this time was the silence. There was only a slow trickle of people cautiously wandering from store to store, occasionally rushing through doors as if worried someone was going to pounce them if they weren't quick enough.
As Harry slowly made his way down the street he noticed more and more of the shops were darkened and had boarded up windows. He knew why the famous once-active alley was now so dreary. Since Lord Voldemort's return became public knowledge his followers (Death Eaters) had been attacking almost indiscriminately. A vast number of people (Muggle and Magic) had been killed or had disappeared already.
Diagon Alley had been hit just a week before. With a sinking heart, Harry covered his head with the hood of his sweater and set off towards Gringotts at a brisk pace, keeping his head down. He made it to the familiar snowy-white building in record time. Once inside he discreetly asked for his vault, filled his money bag and then quietly exchanged some of it for Muggle currency. He then stepped back out of the bank and walked back the way he came.
Looking around, he saw that Florean Fortescue's stall was empty- as were many other shops. Their windows, however, were almost completely hidden by blown-up versions of the Ministry's security pamphlets and posters of escaped Death Eaters.
Harry stopped when he came to Ollivander's. The shop's windows had been smashed and were also boarded over. Glancing around, Harry walked to the door and opened it. He heard a faint tinkling bell as he slowly stepped inside.
The shop was dark, and there were papers strewn all over the place. However, Harry could still sense the same sort of secret magic he had the last time he was here. Harry could remember that day five years ago well.
Harry's head suddenly felt very heavy, and his vision blurred. Bowing his head, Harry held his hands to his ears as he heard a high-pitched ringing that seemed to be echoing in his own head. He then felt his knees hit the floor.
The ringing stopped and his head stopped spinning. Breathing shallowly, Harry shook his head to clear it. He then jumped when he heard a cheery voice in the room.
"Tricky customer, eh?" Said the voice.
Harry looked up, shocked, as it continued speaking.
"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 gasped when he saw Ollivander standing in the suddenly brightened shop, handing a long black wand to a small, thin boy with messy black hair and glasses.
Standing up quickly, Harry's breath quickened as he watched the small boy take the wand, raise it above his head, and then swish it down through the dust, causing red and gold sparks to stream from the wand like fireworks, and making spots of dancing lights on the walls.
Harry knew who this boy was- it was himself. Harry was watching himself when he had got his wand from here five years ago. But how?
He stood, pale and shocked, as Hagrid and Ollivander cheered on his younger self, though their voices seemed to echo a little. How could this be?
Ollivander was muttering to himself. "…how curious…how very curious…"
"Sorry," said the younger Harry. "But what's curious?"
Harry watched on with a frown on his face as Ollivander stared at his younger self, then proceeded to explain to the boy how his wand was the twin of Voldemort's, and that Voldemort's had given Harry his scar.
"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."
The boy Harry shivered. So did Harry in the present. He then closed his eyes tightly so he couldn't see the shop or the curiously-vivid memory. After a few seconds, he found he couldn't hear anything either. He opened his eyes again- and blinked.
Ollivander, boy Harry, and Hagrid had all disappeared. The shop was dark and vacant once more.
Harry shivered again. He wasn't sure what had just happened, and he wasn't sure he liked it. Glancing around once more, he turned and left the shop. He then quickly made his way back to The Leaky Cauldron, not making eye contact with anyone, and not even noticing the people who had appeared along the street and who were trying to sell him things from tiny shabby stalls.
Keeping to his plans of remaining anonymous, Harry only stayed in his room at The Leaky Cauldron long enough to make sure all his things were packed, that Hedwig had food and water, and to ensure he wasn't wearing anything that would make him stand out in any way. He would be checking out later, but would likely come back once he had his school list for the next year (as he didn't know what subjects he was taking until he got his O.W.L. results.) He then hid his wand inside his jacket, made sure his room door was locked (not that he was really expecting anyone to try to break in, as the inn was quite empty), then left the pub and stepped out into the streets of Muggle London.
Even though Harry knew exactly what he was looking for, it still took him a little while to navigate through the crowded streets and find the stores he wanted. He had never shopped in Muggle London before. After a couple of hours, however, he had bought himself some casual Muggle clothes that actually fit him, some plain Muggle writing paper and a ball-point pen. He then found a small café and bought himself something small to eat. While he was waiting for his order, he took out the paper and pen and began to write.
Dear Ron,
If Hermione is with you, please send this letter on to her when you get the chance.
I'm writing to let you know that I am no longer at my relatives'. There's also no need for anyone to check on them as one: They will not tolerate our kind and two: They are leaving to go on holiday soon anyway. I am not going with them.
I won't say where I am or what my plans are in case this letter is intercepted. Just know that I am safe and plan to remain inconspicuous.
As I'm not sure when I'll be able to write next, please pass this message on to the others. Also, can you please look after Hedwig for me? Thanks.
I will write again when I am able.
Harry
Placing the cap back on the pen, Harry read through the message several times. He thought it was important that Ron and Hermione knew he was no longer at Privet Drive, and he knew they would pass on the news to the Order, no matter whether he asked them to or not. Even he wasn't sure of his plans at the moment… perhaps he should find a place to stay in the Muggle world for the remainder of the holidays?
No, Harry thought as he ate his sandwich, he didn't have enough Muggle money for that. He only took out enough so he could buy the clothes, and to grab meals if he needed to. He couldn't rent for long with what he had, and he didn't want to make another trip into Diagon Alley until he had his list of school supplies.
Deciding he would think on it once he was back at The Leaky Cauldron, Harry packed up and left the café.
Not wanting to risk anyone seeing and recognizing Hedwig, Harry hadn't let her fly freely since they had arrived at The Leaky Cauldron. Hedwig, therefore, was in a huff when Harry returned from Muggle London that afternoon.
"I'm sorry, Hedwig, but it was too risky," said Harry as he walked over to her cage.
Hedwig just clicked her beak at him.
"Well, you can fly now. I'll be leaving soon, and I need you to deliver this letter for me," said Harry, unlatching the cage door.
Hedwig blinked at him, and then hopped out of the cage and onto the desk it was sitting on. Harry took the finished letter out of his pocket and tied it to the owl's leg. Hedwig then stepped onto his arm and Harry carried her to the window, which overlooked a busy Muggle side street.
"Take the letter to Ron and stay there, OK?" Harry said to the owl as he opened the window. "I'll be going to a small Muggle hotel once I've checked out from here."
Harry stroked her soft feathers a few times; Hedwig then spread her wings and took off. Harry watched her until she was nothing more than a speck in the sky.