The streets of the capital were so crowded that it took all Harry's strength to maneuver around the people with his horse. Brilliant white and grey in a sea of bland neutrals and pale colors made him stand out like a sore thumb. Ron and Ginny rode chestnut colored horses from their father's estate, while Harry's stark stallion was his Godfather's.
"Woah Buckbeak." He called, pulling hard on the reigns when he saw Ron and Ginny depart down a side street. The back alleys and narrow paths were much less crowded, and Harry was finally able to take in the city. Little shops and carts lined every street, with bakers slinging hot iced buns and dressmakers promising the finest of garments for a night in the palace. He followed dutifully after his friends for a time, until he found himself drawn in by a dark-looking alley way. His friends were speaking with an innkeeper, a task which would occupy them for a time, so Harry decided to venture down the dark path.
It was strange, he thought as he crossed the cobblestone street, that there should be such a contrast of people between this part of town and the previous. Where there had been light colors and patterns and good smells and warmth in the entrance to the town, this place was dark and cold and smelled distinctly of something that Harry couldn't place other than that he would likely not be enthused to find out its origin.
The little street was deserted compared to the bustling city center, and Harry realized that those who were in the area didn't seem to want to meet his eye or looked at him suspiciously, as if he was trying to steal from them. Before he realized it, he had gotten lost in the darkness of the back alleys, arriving at a narrow street with shops lining the sides. At the end of the street was a mysterious looking shop with a mangled hand in the window. Not the sort of place he should've been, but he felt a need to go in anyway; surely someone there would be able to direct him back. Tying Buckbeak's reigns to a nearby post, Harry dismounted and walked cautiously into the shop. A worn wooden sign read Borgin and Burkes in chipping paint. Only a few feet into the shop, he was surrounded by disembodied heads, jars of eyes, a human brain; and he quickly made his way out.
He'd only stepped a single foot out of the creepy shop before a giant man with a wild beard approached him. "Blimey you must be Harry Potter." The man insisted, and Harry gulped as he realized the man was almost freakishly tall and broad. He looked like a giant! Wiping his glasses to make sure he was seeing the man correctly, he nearly gasped.
"How do you know me?" Harry asked, somehow preventing his fear from permeating his voice. While normally he would have been relieved to find someone who knew him, in this place it was less than welcome.
"I knew your parents. Lily was always so kind to me." The larger man smiled fondly on the mention of Harry's mother, and Harry could feel his apprehension leave his body.
"Yes well, I am Harry Potter, although I'm afraid that I do not know your name." Holding out his hand to the man, he tried not to wince when he shook it a little too tightly. He wondered how this behemoth of a man knew his parents.
"Hagrid. Rubeus Hagrid. I maintain the grounds at the Palace. Your mum loved chatting with me about the animals I care for, big heart for animals she had. Your dad was always trouble though…one time when he was around your age, a prank he pulled released all the chickens on the grounds. Took me days to gather them all back up again." There was no animosity or annoyance in Hagrid's voice, instead it was full of something like amusement accompanied by a bittersweet smile.
"Haven't seen you since you were a babe. You've become a handsome young man at that. Just like your father." Harry smiled brightly at the comparison. He loved looking like his father, but it wasn't often that that phrase was sent his way as a complement. Petunia preferred slinging it at him like it was acid when he displeased her, Oh you are just like your father boy.
"I would love to hear more stories about my parents, but perhaps we could converse in a less…dark location." Harry's body language betrayed how uncomfortable he was, and Hagrid clapped him on the back, saying that he would lead the way back to Diagon.
"Knockturn is a rather unsavory set of streets, but there are some things that can only be bought there. You shouldn't have a need to go back." Harry grabbed Buckbeak's reigns and fell into a quick rhythm following alongside Hagrid. The larger man was much older than he looked, and he apparently had some excellent stories about his Godfather as well.
"I can't believe Sirius is still alive!" Harry remarked, following Hagrid's story involving Sirius, purple dye, and a very displeased headmistress.
"McGonagall looked like she wanted to tan his hide when she discovered the plot, but if you ask me I think the old woman had a soft spot in her heart for those boys. Lord knows that's the only explanation behind why they weren't expelled every day." Through the stories Hagrid had told, he had woven them out of the dark corners that Harry had trapped himself in and they emerged back into the bright and bustling streets of Diagon.
"Harry!" A high voice cried out, and he didn't have time to prepare himself before Ginny had landed a hard punch on his arm.
"OY!" Harry yelped, pulling his arm away and rubbing where her fist had made contact. For such a slight aristocratic girl, she sure could punch.
"Oh shove off it didn't even hurt. Where have you been? Ron and I have been worried sick that you'd been trampled or enticed into some brothel." Ron simply nodded along absently as his sister yelled, shooting Harry a look that said, Why did you leave me alone with this?
"I got a bit turned around. Hagrid here came to save the day and showed me back. He knew my parents." Harry was beaming as he introduced the tall man, and was relieved to see a familiarity in their introductions.
"We know who Hagrid is Harry. Everyone in the city does. Been taking care of the grounds for decades. Thanks for returning our poorly directed friend back to us. First time in the city you know." Ron and Ginny shared a mischievous look and said their quick goodbyes to Hagrid, promising to stop by for tea during their stay.
Once they had gone their separate ways, Ron, Ginny and Harry made their way to the Leaky Cauldron to check in. Ron had booked two small rooms; one which he and Harry would share, and one for Ginny. While he grumbled about Ginny getting the nicest things because she's a girl, Harry knew Ron was excited to not be sharing a room with his younger sister. The room itself was quaint, with a large bed draped in reds and golds. Warmth permeated the space as a fire roared in the small fireplace. The flames bathed the room in a soft yellow light, and it was beautiful to Harry. Everything about this town was beautiful, even the shady place he'd been informed was called Knockturn.
"This bed is giant!" Harry commented, collapsing on the soft blankets with a dramatic sigh. Although Ron didn't live in a glorified cupboard like the Harry, his ancestral home was not as large as most - having been expanded over the years as more children were born – so the red-head nodded his head eagerly, jumping onto the side of the bed opposite Harry.
Ron began listing off all the things that they could do in Diagon, and with every additional phrase, Harry felt his smile grow. Who knew that this whole world existed outside of his home? His Aunt and Uncle didn't abide by the frivolous nature of the capital, but even they couldn't ignore the draw of the city once their precious Dudders had a chance to be King.
"We have about an hour before dinner is served downstairs if you want to go shopping for a bit." Harry lit up at the idea, before deflating again. "I don't have any money." Harry began, reaching into the pocket of his trousers and pulling out a small leather pouch. Inside the pouch was his meager savings, a collection of knuts, a handful of sickles, and one golden galleon.
"That's alright. We don't have to buy anything. I thought your parents left you a fortune though…" Ron added, realizing that he likely shouldn't have said that only moments after it was too late. The dark-haired boy's face scrunched in discomfort and moved his gaze away from Ron's.
"My Aunt and Uncle feel that I'm not responsible enough to have access to it. They've spent a lot of it I think…not even sure how much would be left." The sadness in his voice dripped with a mix of resentment, and he rubbed away the inklings of tears in his eyes. He'd spent too much time in his youth crying and wishing things would be different.
Ron, unsure of how to comfort his friend, clapped him on the back and changed the subject. "Well let's go. My brothers have their shop open, maybe they'll give me a family discount."
"What do you mean it's 5 Galleons? I'm your brother." Ron whined at two identical red-headed boys who looked like they were enjoying Ron's little fit perhaps too much. Harry noted his friend had a bottle of mead in his hand, and the twins seemed to share a knowing look before saying, "10 Galleons" at the same time.
Harry tried to hide his laughter, but a few chuckles escaped anyway. He had become close to the twins as well when he had visited Ron when he was young, and he was always fond of their pranks and overall mischievous nature. Now they ran a very profitable specialty shop that sold both alcohol and pyrotechnics; which Harry thought was brilliant but also a horrid combination.
Catching his eye on a little firecracker that looked like it wouldn't be too much money, Harry asked Fred what it cost. "Its on the house for our favorite little brother." Fred responded, making eye contact with Ron the whole time, and smiling as the boy in question turned a violent shade of red. Before Ron could say something, he'd regret, Harry thanked the boys and pulled his friend away by his collar.
"Arseholes." Ron muttered to himself, although all animosity was lost once they wandered into the sweet shop. Honeydukes was absolutely filled to the brim with people, and Harry was immediately overwhelmed by the selection and variety of candies, toffees, and chocolates. He looked fondly over at the chocolates section, remembering how his mother used to offer him pieces of chocolate when he was feeling particularly sad or missing his father a little more than usual. It's the only cure for sadness, you know, she used to say. Pulling out two of his sickles, he quickly grabbed a chocolate frog and traded the money with the woman at the counter, knowing that he couldn't afford to spend any more money on sweets.
By the time Harry located Ron in the moving throng of people, his friend's arms were filled with treats. Licorice sticks, sugar sticks and Bertie Bott's every flavor beans overflowed from his arms. "Choclit fro?" Ron asked, gesturing to the box in Harry's hand with his mouth full of a licorice twist.
"I was craving some chocolate, and this looked interesting." Harry offered, shrugging his shoulders. Helping Ron carry his treasure back to the counter, they departed back for their room at the Leaky. Ginny was in the lobby when they came back, and she simply rolled her eyes at her brother and stole a piece of licorice. She was already gone by the time he had opened his mouth to complain, and Harry smiled at his friend when he gave him a look like, Can you believe her?
When they arrived back at the room to drop off Ron's hoard of candy, he asked Harry what card he got from his chocolate frog. Confused, Harry opened the box, finding a portrait of an old man with half-moon spectacles smiling back at him.
"Dumbledore. I've got loads of him." Realizing Harry had never been to the capital before and was fairly sheltered from society, he continued to explain. "He's the advisor to the King and Queen. Practically runs the country, and actually runs that big fancy school in the castle. He's been Headmaster of Hogwarts since before my mum and dad went there." Harry's eyes lit up as he realized that the man must have known his mother and father well, considering they had met when they were attempting Hogwarts.
"Do you think I'd be able to meet him? He'd be at Princess Hermione's ball right?" Mentioning the ball brought up another topic that Harry had forgotten to consider. "Bugger. I completely forgot it's a masque. Suppose I'll have to buy something tomorrow. Where do I even get a mask?"
"Merlin you're right. I didn't even think of that. We'll have to go ask Gin. She's a girl, she'll have thought about that. You should've seen mum fussing over her getting the perfect dress to impress high society. I mean it's ridiculous, she's already engaged. I'm the one who's trying to bed a princess." Ron lifted his head up in an imitation of one of the highest lords, perfectly looking down his nose at Harry. It was an imitation that they had perfected as children, especially after having the displeasure of meeting Lord Malfoy and his prat of a son.
"I'm excited to dress up honestly. It'll be loads better than my grungy hand-me-downs certainly." He looked down at his shirt, noting it's discoloration. He never got clothing of his own nowadays; the last new shirt he owned had been when he was eleven, and he was at least a foot taller and much broader than he had been then. Now he just wore his robust cousin's old things, which almost all smelled even after being washed and had holes in them. "Why do you figure the Princess chose a masquerade? Do you think she's secretly hideous and they're trying to hide it?"
Harry was joking, but Ron sent him a glare. Honestly Harry didn't understand how his friend was so in love with the girl when he'd only seen her from a distance a handful of times. Resolving himself, he decided that he would much rather marry for love than for status. A bell rang somewhere downstairs, and Ron catapulted out of bed. Harry looked at him for a split second, confused, before he realized there was only one thing that would earn such a response from his friend; dinner.
The meal was not lavish by any means, but it was much better than Harry's diet of leftovers and hard bread. It was a simple dinner with roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, soft dinner rolls, and a brilliant pudding he'd never had before. "Wait so this is a pumpkin pastry?" Harry asked, eyeing the orange dessert with hungry eyes. He had never had much pumpkin at home, but he'd grown rather fond of pumpkin juice on the occasions he found himself at the Burrow.
"Ye…" Ron offered, once again speaking with his mouth absolutely filled with food.
"You know, you'll never catch your precious princess with manners like that." Harry joked, although Ron didn't seem to like that, as he threw a roll at Harry's face. Bouncing off his glasses, Harry just laughed. Ginny, having watched their whole interaction with an amused interest, finally gave in to the fits of giggles that she'd been holding back, which earned a glare from her brother.
"He's right Ronald. Imagine if mum was here to see you do that. If you embarrass her in court she's likely to murder you…or worse, accept the marriage contract Lord Brown has been offering." All color drained from Ron's face as he thought back on the silly girl he had spent a summer with a few years before. She had become too attached too quickly, bordering on obsessive. After Ron had informed her he had no intentions to marry her, she'd thrown a fit (not that Harry could blame him, he could only tolerate being called Ronniekins and Won-Won so much).
"So what were you up to today Gin?" Harry asked, tasting the pastry and nearly swallowing the rest of the dish whole. It was warm and gooey and perfect, and he grabbed a second and a third.
"Oh you know, met up with Luna, went shopping. The usual." There was a flush on her cheeks and a glint in her eyes that made it fairly obvious she was lying, but he wouldn't press the girl about it. She seemed relieved that he hadn't asked any follow-up questions, eyeing her brother nervously. There was only one thing she could've been doing that would lead to this type of response, and if Ginny spent the day with Dean, he wouldn't be the one to tell Ron about it.
"Who's Luna?" Harry asked instead of pressing on the vagueness of her answer.
Her eyes lit up with glee as she began describing her friend (who Harry thought sounded more like a fairy than a person). Ron added tidbits here and there, whispering to Harry that the girl was certifiably mental, but also the coolest person he'd ever met.
"She's coming to the ball with her husband, but don't be surprised if she tries to cleanse your aura or something. Eccentric is probably the best way to describe her, but none-the-less she's my best friend. I've actually asked her to be my hand-maiden for the hand-fasting when Dean and I get married in the spring." Ginny smiled so brightly at the mention of her fiancé, and Harry found himself longing for that sense of love.
"Well I don't know about you all, but I plan on leaving the ball with a wife of my own." Ron said confidently, digging into his second round of pudding as he did so. The confidence already made Harry feel the need to laugh, but to top it all off, some of the frosting from one of his cakes spilled onto his shirt. Both Ginny and Harry laughed so hard that they were having trouble breathing, and Ron glared at them both equally. After having a few minutes to recover, and a session of her brother pouting like a spurned child, Ginny turned to Harry to ask him a question.
"So what about you Harry? Planning to find the girl of your dreams at the Ball?" Her eyes glinted with mischief, and he hoped she wouldn't try setting him up (especially after hearing her describe her best friend). He took a moment to think over his response, trying to determine how to respond. Of course, he wanted to marry and have a family, but he'd never really thought it would happen, or rather that he'd have the opportunity.
"I suppose if I find someone who I can talk to as easily as I do you and Ron. I've never really considered it before. There aren't exactly many women waiting to throw themselves at a poor orphan in Godric's Hollow." Forcing a smile on his face, he tried to hide how much he wanted a love. Even Ron had had loves in the past, even if they were silly, vapid village girls.
"No worries mate." Ron started, clapping his hand on Harry's back. "When I marry the princess, I'll introduce you to some of her hand maidens." Harry couldn't help but laugh at his friend's offer and stifled a yawn. He hadn't slept well the night before, having had to prepare the Dursleys for their travel. It wasn't late yet, but everyone was weary from their travels, so they decided to go to bed early and go out to do some shopping and visits tomorrow. Ginny, whatever she had really been up to that day, had managed to get Harry a meeting with a professor at Hogwarts who had been friends with his father. The man actually seemed thrilled to be able to talk to James Potter's son.
Kissing Ginny's knuckles and bowing, Harry and Ron ascended the stairs back into their cozy room. Nearly collapsing on the bed, the dark-haired boy removed his glasses and shoes before laying back. He and Ron were both asleep seconds after their heads hit the pillow, excited for the days to come.
