A Change in History: The Philosopher's Stone

A HP Fanfiction

Disclaimer: I do not own HP.

Chapter Two: Diagon Alley

"Stuff it, Theo."

"Oh, but Draco, you look absolutely darling--"

"I said, stuff it!"

Harry sighed and pressed his forehead against the blissfully cool stone of the fireplace before him, inwardly groaning. Would he have to deal with this all day?

"I'm warning you--"

"But Draco, purple is so slimming on you--"

"SHUT UP!" Both Draco and Theo jumped, wide eyed at the sudden sound. Harry pushed himself off his perch, glaring balefully at the pair. "We're not going to dawdle about and act like complete idiots. Draco," he addressed the blond boy, completely disregarding the sulking expression overtaking his face, "Your mother and father trusted us enough to allow us to go to Diagon Alley alone, and I for one don't want to give them cause to usher us about like cattle. So stuff it, the both of you, and get over it. I'm not in the mood today." Theo scowled at him.

"Wow, Harry, you're really in a bad mood. What's got your knickers in a twist?" Harry leveled a dark look at him. Harry felt he had full rights to be irritable, after the nightmare he had the night before—it was the same one that had been haunting his sleep off and on for about a year now, and it was always about the same thing.

"I just am, so please don't give me any reason to hex you to the brink of oblivion. Now, are we going or what?" Theo grunted an affirmative, and Draco's features turned stoic. It was a sure fire sign that he was brooding.

As if on cue, Blaise stepped through the door of the drawing room, strolling with a casual air towards them. "You lot ready to leave?" Draco's eye twitched, the only sign of his annoyance, but he nodded and stepped towards the grate, brushing past Harry indifferently with his nose in the air. The blond grabbed a handful of dust from an ornate canister on the mantle and tossed it into the roaring flames, which promptly turned green. Draco stepped forward into the fire, snatching up the end of his silk cloak as he did so in his left hand. With a swirl of the material and a shout of "Diagon Alley!" he was gone, shooting one last disdainful glance towards Theo as he did so.

"He always does that, the show off…" Harry rolled his eyes in exasperation and Blaise did the same behind him. The Dark Heir stalked up behind Theo and pushed him forward slightly, quelling any arguments with a fierce stare. Theo wilted and took up his own handful of Floo powder, copying Draco's actions verbatim—minus the theatrics, of course. When he was gone Harry sighed and knuckled his forehead, motioning Blaise before him. Today was going to be a long day.

"Harry, are you done yet?"

Harry grumble quietly to himself as he thanked the store owner and picked up the heavy bag at his feet, lugging it out of the gloomy shop into the open air where his friends awaited him impatiently. The sign for the Apothecary gleamed brilliantly in the bright sun above their heads and Harry had to struggle to make out what they were saying over the roar of the crowd pressing in around them.

"It's about time. I was about to go in and drag you out."

"No need for that, you know. I just needed a few extra potions ingredients is all." Draco and Theo both rolled their eyes heavenward.

"Yeah right, Harry. If you say so." Theo replied with a shrug.

"I told you to call me 'Damien' in public. We don't want to draw attention to ourselves." Harry hissed at him, his gaze darting around the avenue to check if anyone had heard. Theo flapped his hands nonchalantly.

"I know, I know. Habit, I guess. I'll get used to it." Theo squinted down the cobbled street, wincing when the sun hit his eyes. "Where to next?" he asked them. Blaise came forward out of the shadows where he had been leaning against the wall and watching the passersby and pointed down the street.

"How about the ice cream parlor? I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm sweating." It was true. Blaise's dark skin was dotted with large beads of perspiration, and Harry knew it must be sweltering in the heavy black robes the boy always wore. He was eternally thankful that he owned mostly lighter clothes, meant for the hotter months.

Feeling sympathetic, Harry agreed, though he secretly enjoyed the thought of ice cream on a day like today—no adults around, only him and his friends to talk about whatever they want without consequence or danger of being overheard by a house elf who would report to Draco's parents. "Yeah, let's go there. I need a break from all this shopping, anyways."

They four seated themselves in the shade a little further back from the crowded street and ordered their ice cream, settling back into the comfy chairs to enjoy the weather. After a moment of content silence while they waited for their orders Theo turned to Blaise.

"Heard your mother married again. How many times is that now?" Blaise snorted softly and glared slightly at the tabletop.

"Four and counting. We're getting richer by the day, or should I say, wedding, but I honestly don't really care about what she does. Most of the time she's off managing 'the business'." This was why Harry felt so connected to Blaise; they both had abusive or neglectful mothers, but fortunately for Harry Nagini had been there for him. Blaise had no one, which is why he turned out the way he did, Harry mused silently, though he knew that no matter what the other said it still hurt Blaise for his mother to ignore him. He turned away from the conversation—which had switched to Quidditch—and absently watched magic folk meander by, immersed in their own little worlds.

Harry had noticed a definite difference in the way people acted since—He—died. It took a few days, but after that incident a year or so ago his friends had finally managed to coax him out of hiding and into the sun once more.

Their first visit had been to Diagon Alley, on a day much like this one; Harry, who had been starting to see that there might be more to life and that all wasn't lost when in the company of his comrades, had felt all his goodwill be crushed when they happened upon that scene:

Everywhere in the streets people were celebrating, even days after His defeat. Magically summoned streamers were falling from the sky like rain, raucous music was playing and all the shops had closed down so that the owners could join in. Harry had grabbed the wall just inside the Alley and fought the urge to wretch, he was so distraught. Afterwards when they returned to the Manor Harry had locked himself into his room, reinforcing the locks and warding the perimeter so no one could reach him. It had taken a long time and much gentle persuasion from Nagini to come back out again. Harry realized that today was the first day he had stepped off the Malfoy grounds since then.

He found it odd. He wasn't really bothered now, though that might have something to do with the fact that everything was pretty much normal again.

Pretty much. Such a simple term, to be used for such a thing. His world wasn't completely whole; it was missing some of its most vital components, and what hurt him most was the fact that the world seemed to be celebrating that.

Harry clicked his jaw tightly and abandoned his morose thoughts when the ice cream arrived, focusing on losing himself within the sweet confines of chocolate and vanilla swirl. The group ate in general silence, broken every now and again by a small conversation between Draco and Theo. Harry noticed Blaise shooting him concerned looks whenever the other two became occupied and it annoyed him. His depression wasn't that obvious, was it?

"I say, look at that girl! I didn't know beavers could walk on two legs!" Harry was jolted violently away from his sugar-induced daydreams and stared in bewilderment at Theo, who merely pointed to the far end of the street. Harry twisted his body in his seat to see.

A girl that could be no older than they was coming out of Flourish and Blotts, fully laden with large and heavy books. A mass of bushy brown hair just barely crested over the bundle in her arms, and Harry could tell by the way she was dressed she was Muggleborn. Two adults—presumably her parents—followed her out of the shop, her father trying his best to take the heavy load off his daughter. To Harry's surprise she simply turned her body away, refusing to allow him access to her cache. She reminded Harry of a dragon guarding its hoarded treasure trove.

A villainous cackle turned his attention to Draco, who was watching the three with such obvious hate and disgust that Harry was sure everyone in the immediate area could feel it.

"Mudbloods," the blond spat venomously, watching the family make its way down the street with the focused attention of a cobra. "They're the reason we lost. They're the reason the Dark Lord is dead." Theo flinched in horror at Draco's blatant disregard for Harry, and shot the raven haired boy a look that told him plainly that Draco didn't mean what he said. Blaise twitched slightly in his chair, leaning forward to carefully dissect Harry's response.

Thoroughly uncomfortable with the scrutiny, Harry shot Draco a dark look before turning away, intending to drop the topic completely. Blaise, obviously satisfied, leaned back in his chair again and polished off the remains of his melted raspberry-chocolate blast. The muggle-born and her family rounded the corner and disappeared from sight, and the tension eased off Draco's features, though some of his earlier revulsion remained. He seemed to completely forget his earlier remark, and Harry had no intention of reminding him. His mind unwillingly flew to the details of his recurring nightmare, and he hastily shoveled the rest of his ice cream down his throat, attempting to drown out the images and voices.

The smell of feathers and things better off unnamed wafted through Eyelops Owl Emporium, but Harry didn't mind. He wandered through the rows of birds hooting and ruffling their plumage, competing for his attention. The others had gone on to the Magical Menagerie, but Harry wanted an owl. He didn't have anyone to send letters to, per se, but he liked the idea of having one.

So far Harry had not found a single owl he liked. Most were too pushy or too haughty for his tastes. The boy was about to turn around and leave, believing he would have been better off at the other shop with his friends when a flash of white caught his eye. He maneuvered between shelves and stopped in front of a cage that was secluded in the shadowy back.

Before him was the most beautiful owl he had ever seen; with glossy, snow white feathers and gleaming amber eyes, Harry felt his breath being taken away. The snowy owl cocked its head to the side curiously, giving him a once over before hooting at him softly. Harry wondered why such a magnificent creature would be way back here where no one could see her.

"Ah, found that girl, did'ja? No good id'll do ya. Won't answer to no one, this one. Always flyin' back 'ere after she's been bought. Can 'ever keep her in a home." Harry turned around to the see a worker in the store, eyeing him speculatively.

"I don't understand." Harry responded politely, keeping one eye over his shoulder on the striking owl behind him. "You mean she escapes from her new owners and comes back here?"

The man nodded, giving his a crooked albeit sincere smile. "Tha's right. 'Ever can keep her sold. But you look like yer interested. Now, lemme warn ya," he said sternly, his visage turning serious. "Iffa she's up and flown off, we ain't responsible for it. You buy her, you responsible. Got it?" Harry nodded. "Good. Well then, iffa ya wan' her bring her up front. I'll ring it up." The man turned away to return to his post at the counter and Harry gently grabbed the handle of the owl's cage, smiling slightly when she nipped at his fingers in a friendly manner.

It was close to late afternoon when the quartet entered the dusty atmosphere of Ollivander's (their last stop of the day), the orange sun shining radiantly through the glass windows and casting hazy glows across the shelves of boxes lining the walls. Draco took up post by the door, watching people go by with a hawk's gaze while Theo plopped down on the spindly chair in the corner, jumping slightly at the noise it made under his weight. Blaise accompanied Harry up to the counter. Harry reached for the bell, but Blaise's hand stopped him. Harry gave him a questioning look, and Blaise took a deep breath before shooting Draco a discreet glance.

"I just wanted to say that I'm proud of you for not attacking Draco back there," he said at last, meaning lacing his words heavily. "You had every right to, but you didn't. For that I'm thankful. We would have caused a scene, a bad one, so I'm glad you made the choice you did." Blaise dropped his hand from Harry's outstretched arm and retreated back a few steps, his arms behind his back and posture rigid like it always was. The mask was back on his face, but the feeling behind his eyes was still evident. Harry nodded at him speechlessly. Blaise never spoke with such emotion unless he absolutely meant what he said. Harry watched him for another moment before ringing the bell on the counter. The sound cut sharply through the still air of the room, and Harry heard a crunch behind him that told the raven haired boy that Theo had toppled off his chair in surprise.

As if on cue a far older man stepped through the back door, looking over each of them carefully as he approached. When at last he stood before Harry Ollivander—for Harry could only assume it was he—examined him closely with saddened eyes.

Saddened? Harry wondered. Why would they be saddened?

"I've been waiting for such a chance, Mr. Morgan." Ollivander said suddenly, his misty, moon-like eyes meeting Harry's nervous emerald ones. "Yes. For far too long…I almost thought you would not be coming. But I see now I was wrong. Yes…" Ollivander's eyes traveled over the group again, looking through each of them with the ease of a professional. "Yes…Which one of you will be first?"

They each went through the process; every wand tried piling high on the spindly chair Theo had evacuated earlier. Harry hung at the back of the cluster, wiping his hands anxiously on his shirt. Finally, Ollivander beckoned Harry forward and his friends retreated to the door to wait for him. Harry was the only one left who needed a wand.

Ollivander's eyes lit on him as he cautiously approached. "Ah. It's time for you, now, is it? Well then, hurry up, we haven't got all day. Which is your wand arm?" Harry held his right limb out in front of him and with a snap of the old man's fingers a tape measure on the counter sprung to life, beginning to take Harry's measures as the wand maker moved down the shelves of boxes. Harry was starting to get irritated at the thing buzzing around him (it was currently measuring his waist, a measurement he didn't want or need to know) when Ollivander returned, a box tucked under his arm.

"You may stop now." The tape crumpled lifelessly to the floor. "Well Mr. Morgan, let's try this one. Dragon heartstring, 12 ½ inches, willow. Give it a wave, go on…"

Feeling stupid, Harry took the wand from the man, but no sooner had he grabbed it the wand was ripped from him and Ollivander hurried back among the shelves, muttering to himself. Harry sighed and rocked back on his heels, shooting a longing glance to the setting sun outside. He wanted to go home already…

Ollivander ran him through many wands—at least twice as many as the others went through combined. By the end of the one hundredth wand Harry tried the wand maker was grinning widely, his eyes gleaming happily. "Tricky customer, eh? I wonder…Maybe…Hmmm…" Ollivander deposited the box he was currently holding under his arm on the counter and walked off to the back room, calling over his shoulder for Harry to wait a moment. When the man was gone Harry's shoulder slumped from the short reprieve and he glanced behind him to see how his friends were doing. Blaise was undaunted, resting his back against the wall with the air of someone who had all the time in the world. Theo and Draco had challenged each other to a game of portable chess (something Theo carried around at all times). His new snowy owl hooted at him reassuringly from her (the shopkeeper told him she was female) position by the rest of his purchases, resting safely by Blaise.

The soft thump of footsteps alerted Harry to Ollivander's return, and he turned around to see the wand maker approach him holding a container so carefully Harry thought for one wild moment that something sacred and priceless must be within it. However he restrained his curiosity and shot the man a questioning look, inclining his head slightly towards the package. Ollivander held it out to him carefully.

"There is a wand in here, Mr. Morgan," he said in a hushed whisper, sending a seedy glance towards Harry's friends as if testing their loyalty to the Dark Heir. "A wand that has been in my family since we started the family tradition of wand-making. It was one of the first my ancestors made, and widely considered one of the best." Ollivander painstakingly opened the rusted lid of the box, the worn hinges creaking with strain from such a simple action. Ollivander reached in and pulled out a dusk-colored wand. He rolled it around in his hands lovingly as he set the container down, holding it out for Harry to try. "Mahogany, 12 inches, basilisk heartstring." His voice dropped to a hushed, awed whisper. "It took many lives to down the creature whose heart resides in this wand. The King of Serpents. A truly powerful tool…" he hesitated for only a moment before pressing it into Harry's hands.

He felt it immediately. Harry sensed something chained and trapped struggle free from its bonds within the wooden shaft in his hands, and warmth spread up through his limbs in a way Butterbeer did; however, Harry was sure nothing could compare to this feeling. The lights in the shop flickered madly and the baubles around the room rattled ominously from a sudden quake of power before quietly settling back into place. Harry let out the breath he didn't even know he was holding and gazed back at Ollivander, truly humbled. The man's eyes, almost glowing in the dim light, were glassy with an emotion Harry couldn't identify.

"Use it well. This wand can be made to do many great things…After all; He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things…Terrible, yes, but great." The compliment made Harry smile slightly. "I believe we can expect great things from you, too…Mr. Potter."

A/N: Good to see you all liked the last chapter. I was considering having them go down Knockturn Alley, but I decided it wasn't necessary. And you lot are probably going to kill me for the suspense of the last line in this chapter.

Hedwig makes her first official appearance in this chapter! See? He has a pet now, and personally I love Hedwig.

The Muggleborn and her family mentioned in this chapter is indeed Hermione, in case you were wondering. You see the first real signs of Pureblood attitude out of the group here, which will be major in Hogwarts.

Sadly, that's about all that needs to be talked about in this A/N…It's unnaturally short.