The day after Harry's birthday was the trip to Diagon Alley. Everyone went, and the first years from Muggle families came along as well. In the Leaky Cauldron, Tom the barkeeper had noticed Harry and exclaimed, "Bless my soul! It can't be Harry Potter!" That had attracted the attention of the other people in the pub and they'd all come up to shake Harry's hand. Several introduced themselves. A woman named Doris Crockford had come back many times to shake his hand, and Harry recognized Dedalus Diggle as the man who had once bowed to him at a shop.
Finally Professor Snape said curtly, "Excuse me, but we need to go about our business. Please step aside." Doris Crockford gave Harry's hand one last shake and they managed to make their way to the back courtyard. It was empty except for a few trashcans and some weeds. Professor O'Leary tapped the wall three times with her wand, and the brick she had touched quivered - it wriggled - in the middle, a small hole appeared - it grew wider and wider - a second later they were facing an archway on to a cobbled street which twisted and turned out of sight.
A girl with bushy brown hair and rather large teeth that had been introduced as Hermione Granger gave an excited squeal. "This is wonderful!" She turned and gave Abby an excited smile.
The first stop was Gringotts, the wizarding bank. They reached a snowy-white building which towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was -
"Yes, that's a goblin," replied Professor McGonagall to Hermione's excited query.
The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Harry noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn,
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins on brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these.
The parents of the Muggleborn students went to a counter to exchange pounds for wizarding money. Mr. McIntyre (History of Magic) and Madam O'Malley went with them to help. Professors McIntyre and Lupin took Harry to one of the free goblins and said, "Excuse me, but we need to take some money out of Mr. Harry Potter's vault. However, he doesn't have a key. I think Professor Dumbledore has it, but I have not asked him."
"That is not a problem," said the goblin. "I will have Griphook see to it."
The goblin Griphook came over and pricked Harry's index finger. A drop of blood was squeezed out onto a glass strip. After a minute, Griphook said, "You are Harry James Potter, son of James Potter and Lily Evans Potter. A new key will be made for you shortly. In the meantime, do you wish to know about your assets? That is, the money in your vaults and any property you own?"
Harry looked up at the two teachers, who nodded their assent, so he answered, "Yes, please, Mr. Griphook."
Griphook looked up at him, surprise on his face. "Well, you certainly are polite, Mr. Potter. Your assets stands as follows: In the Potter vault is approximately sixty million Galleons, forty million Sickles, and fifteen million Knuts. In your trust vault, it comes to twenty thousand Galleons, thirty thousand Sickles, and fifteen thousand Knuts. There would be more, but a stipend of sixty Galleons, or three hundred pounds, is paid out every month to your relatives to help pay for your upkeep. Al-"
"Stop those stipend payments immediately, Mr. Griphook," interrupted Professor McIntyre, furious. The Dursleys had been getting three hundred pounds a month to help with Harry's upkeep, yet they abused him and treated him like a house-elf.
Harry also felt angry and nodded in agreement. "Yes, please stop them, Mr. Griphook," he seconded.
"Mr. Potter, there is something you need to understand," said Griphook. "Professor Dumbledore has control of your assets at the moment, and he was the one who ordered the payments to your Muggle relatives. You may withdraw money from your trust fund, but you cannot countermand his orders unless you order to have all access to your assets cut off to him, or you turn of age."
Harry glanced at the two teachers, who nodded. He turned back to Griphook and said, "All right then, I order that Professor Dumbledore loses all access to my - uh - assets. I will take full charge of them."
Griphook nodded and wrote it down on a piece of parchment, then asked, "I take it that you also wish for the block on your mail to be removed? Albus Dumbledore had a spell set so that all your mail would be stopped until he took a look at them. Then such mail he deemed suitable would then be sent on to you."
"Yes, I would," said Harry. Behind him, Professor McIntyre frowned, and Professor Lupin made an angry growling noise.
Griphook added the second order on the parchment, then continued, "You also own a Black vault. It belonged to your grandmother, Dorea Black Potter, and was part of her dowry. It contains twice as much money as your trust vault. The final vault you own is the Peverell one. You are the last of the line of Ignotus Peverell, after all. The money in that vault comes to eighty million Galleons, seventy million sickles, and fifty million Knuts. Finally, you own five properties. There is the Potter mansion, the house your parents lived in in Godric's Hollow, though it's just the land now, a cottage outside Liverpool, a house outside of Paris in France, and a townhouse in London. The townhouse dates from a time when witches and wizards had social seasons and the Potter family lived there when they came up to attend them."
Finally he snapped his fingers, and a small pile of mail appeared. "Here is all the mail that was stopped and never sent on to you, Mr. Potter. Peruse them at your own leisure. The Potter and Peverell vaults also contain certain heirlooms and other items. A complete list of the items can be found in the vaults. Certain items marked on the lists may be removed, but you may not withdraw the rest nor any of the money except from you trust vault until you turn of age. That is according to your parents' will, Mr. Potter. That is the extent of your assets. Here is your key, Mr. Potter."
"Thank you, Mr. Griphook," said Harry politely, giving a small bow.
Griphook looked surprised again. "Your welcome. It was a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Potter." Harry heard him mutter, "If only all wizards could be as respectful as him. Only the ones that are associated with Myrddin Academy and a few others have been as polite."
"Come along, Harry," said Professor McIntyre. "We need to withdraw money from your trust vault to pay for your school supplies. Tomorrow or later on in the month we can return and you can look through your other vaults."
Harry's eyes widened when they reacher his vault and unlocked it. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze coins. "The coins are gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts," explained Professor Lupin. "Seventeen sickles to a Galleon, and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle." He helped Harry fill a bag, and then they went to join the others.
The first stop was Flourish and Blotts for the set books. Harry checked his booklist, then picked out the required books. He saw Abby pick up a couple of extra books for background reading, and Hermione did the same. The two girls were apparently bookish types and he saw them strike up a conversation.
Ron rolled his eyes when he saw Hermione and Abby chattering animatedly away and whispered to Harry, "Ugh, now we'll be seeing a great deal of Hermione now that Abby's being friends with her."
Harry shrugged. "Hermione doesn't seem to be that bad. She'd make a decent friend."
Ron nodded, but he didn't look convinced. "Let's go talk to the boys."
The Muggleborn boys were Justin Finch-Fletchy, Dean Thomas, and Terry Boot. They were very interested in the magical world and asked many questions, all of which Ron did his best to answer. Justin mentioned that his name had been down for Eton, but he preferred attending a magical school. Dean said he might not really be Muggleborn, for his father had disappeared when he was a baby, and his mother had been wondering if he had been a wizard ever since Dean had gotten the acceptance letter.
Next was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. She greeted Professor McIntyre, then looked over the students. "All for Myrddin School? All right, then." She beckoned to Terry Boot, who was first in line, and led him to the back of the shop to be fitted.
Finally everyone was fitted and had gotten their robes. The older students went off to buy their parchment and other writing supplies while the first-years went to get their cauldrons and potion supplies. Then they switched, and finally the first years went to get their wands.
The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty for a single spindly chair. Harry felt strangely as though he'd entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions which had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.
Hermione and Abby, who had been talking ever since Flourish and Blotts, were now silent and stared around the shop. Justin and Terry looked nervous.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped, and so did the other students and their parents. The only ones who didn't jump were Professors McIntyre, Lupin, O'Leary, McGonagall, and Weasley, the teachers accompanying them.
An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. He greeted them, then turned to the teachers. He proceeded to name the wands they hand, and asked if they were still in good condition. The teachers nodded, then Mr. Ollivander turned to the students. Hermione was first, and she went through about fifteen wands before she was handed a vine wood wand, with a dragon heartstring core. Blue and gold sparks shot out of her wand and a delighted Mr. Ollivander pronounced it the perfect wand for her.
Next was Ron and his wand was willow, fourteen inches, with a unicorn hair core. After Abby, who's wand was elder, unicorn hair, twelve inches, and Mari, who's wand was beech, phoenix feather, ten and a half inches, it was Harry's turn.
"Ah yes," said Mr. Ollivander, nodding at Harry. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it- it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes. "And that's where..."
Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.
"I'm sorry to say that I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... Well, if I'd known what that wand was going out in the world to do..."
Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and Mr. Ollivander quickly picked up the tape measure. "Which is your wand arm?"
"Er - well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.
"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. Then Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.
"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander took it out of his hand almost at once. Wands began piling up, and to save time, Dean began trying the wands that were discarded for Harry. After awhile, Dean found the perfect wand and Justin took over. He soon found the right wand as well. Harry must have tried almost every wand in the shop before the perfect wand chose him. It was holly, phoenix feather, eleven inches, and white and silver sparks shot out of his wand. Mr. Ollivander revealed that the brother of the wand had given Harry his scar.
Then Terry, Emily Spencer, Mandy Brocklehurst, and Sally-Anne Perks got their wands. As the wands were paid for, Professor O'Leary quickly explained about Voldemort and how he had given Harry the scar. The Muggleborn students stared at Harry in awe, and Sally-Anne exclaimed, "Wow! I can't believe you defeated an evil wizard like that!" A look of hero-worship appeared on her face.
Emily gave Sally-Anne an exasperated look and said, "It happened when Harry was a baby, so he doesn't remember it. And I very much doubt he'd appreciate having a big deal made of it. He certainly didn't seem to like all that fuss in the Leaky Cauldron. He kept flinching."
On the way back to the Leaky Cauldron, Emily whispered in Harry's ear, "I think I know the real reason you were flinching. You've been abused before, haven't you? I won't tell anyone."
Harry stopped and gave Emily a startled look. How had she figured that out? She gestured for Harry to keep walking and continued in a whisper, "I was once abused as well. My real father started drinking when I was six, and began yelling at my mum and hitting me when I got in the way. When I was eight, Mum finally had enough and divorced him."
Harry stared at her again. "I didn't realize that other children might have had to go through-"
"Hush!" hissed Emily. "You're talking too loud, Harry. Anyway, I have some idea of what you went through. I'm not going to tell anyone, except my mum, who'll keep it a secret. I do take it that you don't want it to become general knowledge? I'm sure the wizarding world would freak out if they found out their savior was abused by his relatives."
"They would," said Harry. "Yes, don't tell anyone except your mum, Emily. Well, the staff know, but they're not going to spread it around."
"Okay then, Harry," said Emily. "And you can call me Em." She left Harry and went back to her mother's side.
Back at Myrddin Academy, Harry put his purchases in his trunk, and settled down to look through his mail. There were several acceptance letters from magical schools around the world, and he wrote and sent brief replies saying that he had decided to attend Myrddin Academy and theorfore would not be coming to their schools. The rest of the mail was letters from witches and wizards congratulating him on his defeat of Voldemort and asking him about his life.
Those he set aside for Professor Lupin to help him to deal with. Then he had lunch and spent the afternoon looking through his schoolbooks.
