Chapter two, Harry and Diagon Alley.
First thing to note - this is an unedited first draft. I'm trying to stay in character! Also, this is a universe where Harry and seven others have gone back in time to prevent a war following Voldemort's fall, and all have their memories. Changed my mind about editing this one because I feel so bad about not uploading - holidays and finals came first. Now that I've written this part, the second chapter with Harry shouldn't be so bad. After these two with Harry, what are your opinions? Multiple protagonists? Should Ginny visit Luna before the second year? Your words can affect the story more than you think!
Snores rumbled from the two occupied Dursley bedrooms, but not from the cupboard beneath the stairs at 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey. A certain Harry James Potter sat, cramped in his tiny bed, waiting for the moment he could be sure his uncle Vernon was sound asleep - if he awoke at any time while Harry was up and about, he wouldn't leave his cupboard for a month. Vernon, though a heavy sleeper, could detect noises like no other - especially when it came to Harry. Finally, sure that even Vernon was fully asleep, he sat up slowly. Miraculously, the old bed didn't creak. Unintentional magic, Harry thought, is truly a wondrous thing. Though Harry lacked a wand, any child with even a speck of magical blood often had their magic released in unusual ways - generally responding to their wants. For example, if a young wizard were held out of the window and dropped, they'd likely float down or bounce in order to not be injured - generally, a young wizard or witch could not control it, as it relied mostly on emotion. The Patronus charm and the Killing curse worked similarly - the Patronus must be cast when happy, or thinking of happy memories. The Killing curse relied on hatred.
As a result, though Harry was an adult in his head, he still didn't want to end up being caught by Vernon, and his fear was an asset in making sure it wouldn't happen. Standing up in the miniscule space between the door and the bed, Harry turned the doorknob carefully and opened it slowly, his eyes adapting to the darkness beyond his door. Stepping quietly, he tiptoed from the cupboard to the shoe closet, carefully grabbing his flats and slipping them on in the silence, before preparing to open the door - any number of things could go wrong, but luckily he didn't. Thirty seconds later, he was standing out in the crisp, dark night. From inside, Dudley's elephant snores began, and he began to walk down the darkened neighborhood road, alone in the dark, with only the sound of sprinklers and the moon above for company.
Finishing his walk to the park, he sat down at the edge of the road and swept his hair over his forehead to hide his iconic lightning scar. Harry raised his wand arm, and with a loud, disorienting bang, the Knight Bus flashed into view, pulling to a screeching halt unheard by any ears outside of the Bus except Harry's. The doors pulled themselves open, and a rather old man stepped off, glancing around before looking down at Harry. He gave a kindly smile, sweeping his conductor's hat off to reveal a balding head, and spoke.
"Quite late for a young lad like you to be out. You're not running away, are you?" His eyes twinkled good-naturedly, but he turned to let Harry in, "What's your name, kid?"
Harry paused before deciding on a name. "Colin. Colin Creevey. Nice to meet you!" Harry held out his hand to be shaken, appreciating this conductor much more than he had Stan. The conductor held out his hand, shaking it, and helped Harry get his short self up into the bus. Though Stan was still attending Hogwarts, Ernest still drove the bus - which, Harry noted, was a lot neater this time around.
"Where to? You got any money for the ride?" the conductor asked. Harry internally kicked himself for forgetting there was a fee for the bus. Of course there was!
"Just to the Leaky Cauldron, my mum and dad are out later than they said they'd be. They lose track of time easily, so they always tell me to just take the Knight Bus if they're out past the time they said they'd be. I guess I forgot to grab a few sickles, sorry." Harry lied.
"I know the bartender at the Leaky Cauldron, I'll just tell him to add it to your parents' tab and he'll give it to us next time he rides." The old conductor smiled, motioning for him to take a seat.
Harry nodded his appreciation, taking a seat and bracing himself for the force of acceleration. Taking one glance out the door, he noticed Mrs. Figg's light had turned on. That could spell trouble, Harry remembered she was supposed to keep an eye on him and even squibs could hear the Knight Bus arriving. However, he only got a glimpse before a bang and a heavy jolt brought them to London.
Stepping off the Knight Bus with weak legs, Harry approached the friendly dim light of the Leaky Cauldron, in between the darkened bookstore and music store that accompanied it. The bar's friendly light made the street seem safer. Passing through the door back into the undestroyed Wizarding world restored a part of Harry he'd never known he'd lost. When Diagon Alley had been destroyed by a truly horrific attack, Harry had been distraught. Seven wizards and witches had used their own wands to rip their magical cores from their bodies, disintegrating themselves in the process, and taking the whole alley with them. The crater was at least 50 meters in diameter, and Harry would never forget the scene from the still-smoking London side of the crater, where the once proud columns of the marble building stood cracked and in places melting.
Harry shook those thoughts from his head - he and the others had risked so much to make sure it wouldn't happen again. Though the bar was mostly empty, the bartender Tom was cleaning out a glass with a rag. Heading to the back, he realized he didn't have a wand to enter. Harry inwardly punched himself, then turned to Tom, who'd set down the cup and was now looking at Harry.
"Excuse me, sir, would you mind opening Diagon Alley for me? My mum and dad were supposed to come home tonight, but they drank too much Firewhiskey and need to stay the night at the inn just down the alleyway. They owled me, just a moment ago, and told me to come in. I guess the whiskey made them forget that I need a wand to get in." Harry said, convincingly.
Tom nodded, silently, and crossed the bar, pulling a battered wand out of his somewhat grimy apron pockets. Kneeling down, he placed his wand at the base of the wall, counted up three times, then to the right twice. Repeating this twice more, he stood up and watched as the wall began to crumble away, leaving a darkened and somewhat quiet Diagon Alley open to Harry's eyes to see.
Harry passed through the gateway, and as the wall crumbled behind him, he thanked Tom. Back to the Wizarding world, Harry thought in a giddy state, with a completely new chance. With a new spring in his step, Harry began his walk down the alley towards the biggest, grandest building of the economic centerpiece of the wizarding world - the goblin bank, Gringotts. Proudly it stood, professional and regal in stature, with its polished white marble columns reflecting the light of the moon. While Gringotts grew towards him, or rather he towards it, Harry looked around at his surroundings. To his right was Madam Malkin's, down across the street was Ollivander's - which he planned to visit - and not far off was Flourish and Blotts. However, for now, the shopfronts were dark and the streets were empty. Gringotts, however, was conveniently open 24/7. As he climbed the stairs, the goblins flanking the door looked at him disinterestedly and allowed him to pass through the silver engraved doors - Enter, stranger, but take heed…
The last time he'd been through these doors, he'd most definitely not paid attention to those engravings - he. Ron. and Hermione had entered with the plan of stealing from one of the most deeply guarded vaults in the entire bank. With a little help from a Ukrainian Ironbelly, they'd even managed to escape - though scalded from the immense heat of the duplicates produced by the Gemino curse. This time around, he simply planned on making a deposit and grabbing the items needed for his first year. His wand, robes, books, quills, and ink were the most important, followed by a few other assorted tools for Potions class.
The immense marble hall was considerably more empty during the nighttime hours. Though the long counter was still occupied by maybe two dozen goblins on their high stools, doing their normal various jobs such as weighing coins and precious stones, there was a quieter air to the bank. Harry was reminded of a library. Harry strolled to a goblin who seemed to not be busy and spoke. "Sorry to come in so late, but may I make a withdrawal from my family's vault? I don't have a key that I know of, perhaps Albus Dumbledore is holding it until I come of age to inherit my family vault, but the goblins are a very intelligent and clever race. Surely you have other ways of identifying wizards and other beings who come into your magnificent building to make withdrawals of the gold they hold within your vaults?"
Harry tried to be as respectful as he could, but he couldn't remember goblin etiquette for the life of him. Thankfully, his attempt had done well. The goblin peered down at Harry from behind a pair of spectacles. "There are ways of identifying young sons and daughters who don't yet own a key to their family vault. It came in handy during the Wizarding war ten years ago, when far too often young wizards and witches would come in orphaned and needing their family's funds. Admittedly, many goblins opposed the idea of so freely giving back vaults to young magic users, but I have always been considered soft by the community. Would you mind giving me your name, and proof that you are truly part of the family you claim to be of?"
"My name is Harry Potter, and would the goblins by any chance ever have received note of my peculiarly shaped scar?" Though Harry didn't want to immediately go to his scar for identification, it was the best thing he could think of on short notice to identify himself by. The goblin nodded thoughtfully, before pulling himself off the stool and looking underneath the counter for something. Harry heard parchment rustle, and his goblin teller muttering, before finally he came back up with a sheet of parchment in hand.
"According to the parchment, that sounds like you. Before you sign this paper over for the key to your vault, mind if I do something a little strange? The name's Bordok, by the way." The goblin said amiably to Harry. Although confused by the goblin's friendly personality, Harry accepted whatever the goblin would do to him. Bordok pulled out a small vial, with a strange attachment at the front, and pressed at the top. Instantly, a small jet of liquid shot out and hit Harry. Where it hit, he felt a strange tingling, but then it evaporated. "That's a vial of water from the Thief's Downfall, a defense measure we have for the deeper vaults. Any and all enchantments are broken by its touch - from Imperio to Polyjuice potion, it can counter just about anything." Harry remembered that those exact two had been broken when they'd broken into Gringotts. Signing the parchment, he noticed a red magic, not unlike fire, wrapping itself around his hand. That looks oddly similar to the Unbreakable Vow… is it possible to transfer that into heavily binding written contracts? Harry thought curiously.
Taking the signed and faintly glowing parchment from Harry, Bordok disappeared to a room behind the counter temporarily, and returned holding a golden key with a weaved pattern handle. "Now that the contract has been signed, you should be perfectly capable of opening the vault. I checked for you, let me lead you to Vault 687." Walking to the end of the counter, Bordok motioned towards Harry to follow, before opening a door leading off of one side of the hall. Bordok held the door open for him, and then followed Harry into the narrow stone passageway with a cart already waiting. The torchlight flickered, and a warm draft blew up from one of the many passageways the rails led steeply down to. They climbed in, and without Bordok doing anything, even lifting a finger, the cart began to move with a mind of its own. Carrying them down the steepest passageway to the right, the cart began to pick up speed, and though the cold air stung Harry's eyes, he kept them open for the trip. After passing through a maze of passageways, they hurtled past an underground lake surrounded by stone protrusions, and shortly arrived at the small door Harry had withdrawn from many times before. Bordok unlocked the door, and as it opened a copious amount of emerald green smoke billowed out. Fanning the strange gas away from him, Harry grinned and Bordok fetched him a bag for holding his coins with. Though Harry hadn't originally planned to grab more than just enough for his yearly supplies, he couldn't resist grabbing just under twice as much - there was so much of Diagon Alley he hadn't explored. He could feel free to buy just about anything this time around, and so he found childlike joy returning to him.
Returning to the cart with a fatter, thicker, heavier jingly bulging bag of coins, Harry felt giddy. Reversing the original direction, Harry and the polite goblin traveled back through the maze, past the vast, echoing subterranean lake, and came to a grinding stop back where they had begun. Hopping out of the cart, Harry said his goodbyes and left, lugging a magically lightened yet still heavy bag of gold - enchanted so it could not leave Diagon Alley (if apparated out, it automatically returned to Gringotts). Little had changed, other than the moon's position in the night sky, and Harry noted the position of the Bear's Den Inn, the place he'd planned on staying the night at. Taking a final look at the beautiful navy sky perforated with dots of light, Harry made a promise to do things better this time.
"I'd like a room, please."