CHAPTER THREE

A/N Sorry for the short chap, he has short parents, it's not his fault.

Harry had his plan all worked out for getting to London. He would use that purple bus. Hopefully, the dime trick would work again for the cutlasses that the conductor had asked for. Or was it scimitars? Sickles? Whatever; Harry didn't have any weaponry (it was a bit of a sore point with him).

Harry walked out to the street to summon the nighttime bus, then realised it wasn't nighttime – but just then, Hermione pulled up in a Volkswagon Beetle. "Hop in, Barry!" screeched Hermione.

Harry quickly checked in his memory banks for any references to getting in cars with crazy friends in Sniper Rifle Dude, but found none, so shrugged and got in. Something about this felt off, but he wasn't going to question a free ride.

On the way to London, Hermione explained to Harry about a crazy letter she had got, and how it had detailed instructions about getting into a wizarding supplies ally called Diagonally. Harry defiantly remembered something about going into allys with crazy people from Sniper Rifle Dude. But he was also pretty sure that the crazy girl meant 'alley', so he decided to just go with it. Luckily, Hermione was genuine in her explanation, and suddenly the two found themselves in Diagon Alley. Bystanding wizards and witches screamed in horror at the metal monster that had just appeared amongst them, running over several small children. "Sorry, sorry," mumbled Hermione as the children's parents quickly healed them with magic.

They found a parking spot – it was easy, as nobody else in the wizarding world owned any cars so all the spots were free. Except Arthur. But he wasn't in Diagon Alley that day, so it didn't matter that Hermione stole the one spot specifically installed for him. Hermione went to get some ice cream, so Harry went to Madam Malking's robe shop.

Inside, he met a really rich boy that made Harry remember he had no money – so Harry instead went to the bank for inheritance tests in case he owned a small fortune. The goblin, HoldBrick, stabbed Harry's finger to take a blood sample. Then he stabbed Harry's finger again just for fun, then again so that he could verify the first sample, and then once more to give him a special mokeskin pouch keyed to him. The goblin examined the first drop of blood and muttered a number of incantations until he stopped in amazement.

"According to this drop of blood, you are the sole surviving descendant of Merlin, Godric Gryffindor, Salazar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, the House of Potter, and also the rightful inheritor of the Malfoy fortune! Also Harry Houdini. Lord Potter!" Harry was gobsmacked (the goblin really enjoyed causing his customers pain).

The goblin went on, "And this verification drop only says Potter Fortune. Which has been largely depleted by the war efforts 11 years ago. So you're far from rich, kid. And you're not a Lord, because we don't even have Lords in the wizarding world." The goblin smirked to himself; he played that trick on all new wizards and witches. Only this time, the kid actually HAD inherited the Potter Fortune, so that bit was ruined. Realising this, he frowned.

Harry was terrified by the goblin's evil frown and wanted to make a good impression, so decided he would carefully control his spending… but that solid gold cauldron had looked awfully impressive…

Anyway, after Harry rode the underground rollercoaster he shovelled some galleons into his pockets and gave some to Griphook as well, then went off to find Hermione.

"I assume you've got your robes?" she asked, as that was what he had been sent off to do.

"Umm…" said Harry.

"God, you're hopeless!" said Hermione. "I suppose we'll have to go together then, seeing as I forgot my robes altogether when I was here with my parents earlier."

Harry sighed with relief. He hadn't wanted to go and face that rich boy alone, not after Harry had boasted that he was probably actually richer than him. Harry and Hermione went in, and Madam Malking pined all over them before she sold them some robes. Harry was mildly disgusted by the hopeless pining, but at least he now had the school uniform. Hermione didn't mind as much; she knew what it was like to have a broken heart…

**FLASHBACK**FLASHBACK**FLASHBACK**

"I'm breaking up with you!"

"OH NOOOO" Hermione howled

**END FLASHBACK**END FLASHBACK**END FLASHBACK**

A single tear escaped Hermione's eye. Harry pointed at it and laughed.

"Wha—I JUST HAVE DUST IN MY EYES!" yelled Hermione.

"Eye," Harry corrected, "There was a single tear. Like you're SINGLE!"

"Right," said Hermione, reareding the sentence.

Harry decided he didn't need books, so they went off to get his wand.

When he entered the shop, it was empty. When Hermione entered the shop behind him, Harry was in there. Then Ollivander followed them both in, "Why did you break into my store during my lunch break?" he asked them mildly.

"We don't have wands, so we don't know any better," Hermione attempted.

"Ah! Of course, I understand entirely," Ollivander assured them, "Now let us remedy the problem, shall we?"

Not believing their luck, Harry and Hermione went along with the game that followed, whereby Ollivander would hand them obviously useless sticks and then laugh at the results when they waved them around.

Finally, Ollivander seemed to tire of the game with Hermione, and thrust a final stick at her unceremoniously, "Here's your wand, I want to humour him a bit more though, it's funny." Hermione took the wand and felt a sudden warmth overwhelm her. She sank to the ground in a faint.

Harry, not noticing Hermione's predicament, tried numerous other wands for some time.

"Tricky customer, eh?" Ollivander said delightedly, "Not to worry, not to worry… your reactions are quite amusing!"

Then, Ollivander suddenly stopped, back ramrod straight. He turned slowly on the spot to survey Harry with his wide, unblinking, creepy, surprised, shocked, multi-faceted eyes. His feet twitched, then he stomped both legs, then his arms waved around a bit, his head nodded, and finally, his eyes widened.

"I wonder…" he said slowly. "Could it be?" he continued.

Harry jumped up and down excitedly, just as Ollivander had been hoping he would.

"Your WAND!" shouted Ollivander triumphantly.

He held up the most battered wand Harry had yet seen, eyeing it with reverence.

Harry stopped jumping excitedly. Instead, he looked rather dejected – people in the wizarding world seemed to like playing with his emotions.

"No, I'm just joking," said Ollivander, as Harry half-expected.

"Actually," Ollivander said, "Your wand is more special than most, sharing a brother core with The dark lord's. But, anyway, it's on the top shelf. Could you climb the ladder and reach it for me?"

Harry excitedly started climbing the ladder, and climbing, and climbing, and climbing, but he never seemed to reach the top. He eventually gave up, tears in his eyes, and went to tell Ollivander that he couldn't. As he looked down for the next rung down, he realised that he was on the bottom rung. And his friend Hermione seemed to be either dead or unconscious, but that wasn't important. Harry ran across the room and punched Ollivander in the face (because he didn't appreciate the cruel prank the man had played). When the old man collapsed, Harry noticed a box with 'Harry's wand' written on it poking out of his pocket. Feeling unobliged to make the payment, Harry simply took the box and dragged his friend's body out of the store. Luckily, a passing wizard used enarvate on Hermione (luckily for Hermione, anyway).

Harry decided that potions also wasn't important, so didn't purchase a cauldron except for the solid gold one, and no ingredients at all. Then he demanded Hermione take him home.