Chapter Three: Human

Disclaimer: I do not own either Harry Potter or Fullmetal Alchemist.

Important! I have taken some lines directly from the book. No copyright infringement was intended. I will go back and edit this in the future. However, for the moment if you see a • surrounding a paragraph, it means that I took it from the book.

Last Time:

•It's been a very weird night Hedwig," he yawned.•

•And without even removing his glasses, he slumped back onto his pillows and fell asleep.•

Harry spent the next week or so in Diagon Alley. He did his homework outside of Florean Fortescue's ice cream parlor, as the owner was quite nice, and would give him free sundaes every half a hour.

Once, curious as to what everyone was staring at, he made the mistake of looking in the window of Quality Quiddich Supplies. Bad idea. There, bold as brass, was the brand new Firebolt broom. Harry had to constantly remind himself that no, he did not need a new broom. He already had a perfectly good broomstick, and that the little 'Price on Request' tag probably meant that the Firebolt was horrifically expensive.

As the days started ticking closer to the start of term, Harry began seeing Hogwarts students in Diagon Alley. He never saw Hermione or Ron, however.

•Harry woke on the last day of the holidays, thinking that he would at least meet Ron and Hermione tomorrow, on the Hogwarts Express.•

Once he was dressed, he glanced in the mirror to make sure that he didn't look like something out of a cheap zombie movie. He didn't. His hair, however, had grown again, and was now past his shoulders. The green tinge was also more prominent. He was starting to resemble some kind of foliage.

Harry sighed and headed downstairs, wondering if there was a decent barber in Diagon Alley. After a few hours of searching, he realized that, no, there wasn't a decent barber in Diagon Alley. Or any barber, for that matter.

Heading back to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch, Harry heard someone calling his name.

•"Harry! HARRY!"•

He turned around, grinning. Ron and Hermione were sitting outside of Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Ron had grown, and Hermione had a giant pile of books. Harry wondered how she could even carry so many. They were both waving at him cheerfully.

Harry sat down next to them, and the three friends immediately struck up an animated conversation. They talked about school, Sirius Black, Egypt, Harry blowing up his aunt, Cornelius Fudge, the Monster Book of Monsters, the amount of classes Hermione was taking, and-

"Harry, why does your hair look like a palm tree?" Ron asked, snickering.

Harry sighed in annoyance. "I don't know! It just happened! I would have cut it, except that I don't have scissors, there aren't any barbers in Diagon Alley, they don't sell scissors, I'm not allowed to go into muggle London, and-"

"Gah! We get it Harry! No need to go off on a tangent!" cried Hermione exasperatedly. "Anyways, I'm going to the Magical Menagerie to get myself an owl."

"I'll go too. Scabbers hasn't been looking too well since Egypt. I might as well get him looked at." said Ron, pulling out the rat. It looked a bit pale.

Harry decided to go as well, since he knew that something would go wrong.

While Ron was getting Scabbers looked at, Harry amused himself by looking at all of the exotic animals in the store. There were rats that did tricks with their tails, a flying mint green bunny, and a rather evil looking owl.

Way in the back of the store, Harry found... something. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, but it seemed like some kind of deformed gecko.

The thing was green, with lots of small, stumpy legs. It had a long, slit like mouth that went down to its midsection, and the mouth itself was lined with teeth. To top it off, it had two large, bulbous eyes, one on each side of its head. In short, the thing was disgustingly ugly.

Harry felt a surge of pity for the creature. "You poor thing." he murmured. "Living your whole life being so ugly, having everyone gawk at you for something that you can't help. I hope that something good will happen to you."

Giving one last sympathetic look at the thing, which just looked back at him apathetically, Harry went back up to the front counter.

Up at the front, Ron was handing over a few Galleons for some rat tonic. Just as Harry walked up, a ball of orange fur flew at him, yowling as though it were possessed. Before Harry could even begin to comprehend what was going on, the fur ball was clawing at his face, hissing and spitting madly.

Harry began yelling out profanities foul enough to make even the saltiest sailor blush.

After a lot of apologies, more swearing on Harry's part, and a can of tuna, they finally got the thing to let go of him. It turns out that the thing was a cat.

Harry and Ron decided to make a strategic retreat (*cough*runaway*cough*) to the Leaky Cauldron and get lunch while they waited for Hermione to get her pet.

While they waited for their lunch to arrive, Ron turned to Harry, awe in his eyes. "Where did you even learn all of those swear words?! Some of them were even in another language!" he asked, impressed.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. It just kind of happened."

"Oh," said Ron, visibly deflated. "By the way, what does 'shoraineo zesh' mean?"

Harry went beet red. "You don't want to know."

Hermione chose that moment to walk in, and sitting in her arms was... The demon cat. Thankfully, it seemed uninterested in clawing Harry's face off.

As their lunch arrived, Hermione was petting her new cat, Crookshanks, while arguing with Ron.

Mrs. Weasley soon bustled in, followed by the rest of the Weasley children. The lot of them laughed, talked, and enjoyed themselves until well after dark, when Mrs. Weasley practically shoved them all into bed.

Once Harry learned that Ron's rat tonic was gone, he offered to go downstairs and look for it. When he was halfway down the hallway, he overheard Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arguing. Apparently Sirius Black wanted to kill Harry.

Harry wasn't surprised, he was kind of expecting this. What made him gnash his teeth in anger, however, was the fact that someone would even consider not telling him something like this. This was relevant. This was important.

He would kill these pathetic humans, he would make them pay! How could such inferior beings even think of being condescending to him?! He would paint the streets with their blood, and... Wait, what?

Harry was horrified. How could he even think about killing someone? That was barbaric! And why did he think of them as 'pathetic humans' as though he wasn't one? Why did he think of himself as above them? He wasn't! Just because he was famous did not give him the right to think of himself as above everyone else!

Harry was interrupted by the sounds of the Weasley parents coming up the stairs. He scampered back into his room, waited until he heard their bedroom door close. As soon as he heard the soft snick of the door closing, Harry sped down the stairs.

•The bottle of rat tonic was lying under the table they had sat at earlier. Harry went to give Ron the rat tonic, then shut himself in his room and lay down on his bed.•

Silently swearing that he would not be murdered by some sidekick of a megalomaniac, Harry turned over and went to sleep.