Chapter Two: Diagon Alley

As they had discussed, the boys waited until after Christmas to visit Diagon Alley. The time until then passed in a flurry. The holiday season was in full swing and it was a difficult time for Seamus, who was mourning his dad. To keep him from dreary thoughts, the boys threw themselves into Harry's magical education. Harry found that there was much he had to learn about the wizarding world, and Seamus readily filled in the blanks. The two of them had pushed together their dormitory beds and built a fort on the bottom bunks, where they could frequently be found up late into the night reading from Modern Magical History and whispering excitedly about potions, centaurs, and other magical phenomena.

The boys also had a decision to make. They needed to figure out if they should tell anyone where Harry was living. Seamus informed Harry that it was his choice, but urged him to think it through carefully, because once they told someone they couldn't undo it. He had hinted to Harry about the ministry's prejudice against muggles before, and he finally broached the subject outright as they read about wizarding law one evening. Seamus revealed his doubts that the ministry would have knowingly allowed Harry to grow up at a muggle orphanage. No matter how nice it was at McAllister's, there was no magical protection. Not to mention that if the public ever got wind of their savior living in an orphanage they would be outraged. After a bit of prodding, Seamus had admitted to Harry that not all wizards liked or approved of muggles. Even many of the people who had not supported You-Know-Who still looked down on muggles, and most witches and wizards thought them to be somewhat silly and dim-witted. Harry found that rather funny; he'd thought the same thing about wizards when he'd compared their archaic practices to those of modern muggle society.

The boys speculated on how Harry could have ended up at McAllister's, but they couldn't reach a clear solution. Harry showed Seamus the note that was left with him as a baby, and Seamus declared that it was definitely written using muggle instruments, so whoever wrote it knew enough about muggles to know that a note on parchment would seem strange. They just couldn't see how the ministry could have misplaced Harry. They had magic, for pity's sake. Had they entrusted someone with Harry's care, only for that person to get cold feet and abandon him? Was the ministry aware of Harry's disappearance, but keeping it from the public? Could they be searching for him right now? Or had they intended for the Boy-Who-Lived to grow up ignorant of their world? That final thought left both boys with goose bumps. Either way, Harry had opted not to tell anyone just yet. He decided that if the ministry couldn't keep track of him the first time, they couldn't be trusted to do any better now. He could end up somewhere a whole lot worse than where he was now. Besides, Harry liked McAllister's. Marianne was nice, and he had other kids to play with. He wasn't ready to lose that.

With that settled, their attention turned to the matter of Harry's disguise for their much-anticipated trip to Diagon Alley. They decided that Harry would go by his middle name in public, since he was used to replying to Harry James anyway. But while no one would be expecting him there, they needed to come up with a way to guarantee that Harry would not be spotted. Namely, they needed to cover his scar. The solution came wrapped under the tree on Christmas.


Christmas morning dawned relatively uneventful. Seamus woke up in a somber mood, and even a squealing Alexa couldn't shake him out of it. As was the norm, the orphans spent the morning opening gifts. Their gifts were never anything big, usually just clothing and a few new books or games, but to orphans who never had much to call their own it was a very special time of year. Harry beamed when Alexa presented him with a snow globe she'd made in school, and cheerfully passed her a framed picture of the two of them, taken the previous summer. Seamus had mentioned to Harry that he and his dad had often spent their evenings reading spell books and eating chocolate, so Harry had nervously handed him some nice muggle chocolates and a note explaining that while they probably weren't as good as chocolate frogs, this way Seamus could have a piece of his dad with him for the holiday. A stoic Seamus had read the note and thanked Harry, before bolting upstairs. He spent the rest of the day on his own, and at Marianne's urging the kids let him be.

Harry's final gift that morning was from Marianne; a light grey beanie she had knitted for him. It was simple and practical for the cold winter days, but Harry had an ulterior use in mind.

"It's perfect!" he exclaimed that night to a somewhat recovered Seamus. "I can just wear my hat to the Alley! It completely covers my hair and forehead. Someone would have to know my face really well to recognize me, and it's not like anyone has seen me since I was a baby."

"It won't hide those soulful green eyes though," Seamus teased with a wink. Harry scowled. Seamus had been taking the mickey ever since the boys had read Harry's description in Modern Magical History. The book had illustrated Harry as a relatively average looking baby, the only exception being his 'striking green eyes that seem to look into your very soul.' Eyes that he apparently shared with his mother. That had been news to Harry, who had never seen a picture of his parents.

"No one's going to see green eyes and automatically assume I'm Harry Potter. There've got to be loads of wizards with green eyes." Harry pouted stubbornly, though he was secretly glad that Seamus had cheered up since that morning.

"Not as many as you might think," cautioned Seamus. At Harry's dark look he quickly conceded. "You're right though. It's a pretty big leap to make. The beanie should work well enough in the winter, but we'll have to think of something new when it gets warm out. A knit hat in summertime would definitely draw the kind of attention we're trying to avoid." Harry nodded in acquiescence.


After the holiday, the boys started searching for an opportunity to escape to Diagon Alley. They decided it would be best to go on a weekend the first time, since school had started up again and they wanted to have a whole day to explore the Alley. The problem was that the boys were almost always with Alexa, and while they enjoyed spending time with her, Seamus had warned Harry that they could not tell her about the magical world. To do so would be breaking some serious laws, and the consequences could be frightening for her. Harry hated keeping it from her, especially knowing how excited Alexa would be to learn about magic, but he agreed to stay silent when Seamus told him about the obliviators. Apparently there was a group of people at the ministry whose sole job was to erase muggles' memories of magic. Harry shuddered. As neat as magic was, there were definitely some things that he did not like about the wizarding world. The obliviators had sounded like something out of a nightmare, and he vowed that he would never let them anywhere near Lexy.

The boys' opportunity to escape finally arose when Alexa was invited to a classmate's birthday party at the end of January. She would be gone all day, so they wouldn't have to worry about leaving her behind. There was a basketball tournament going on at the local community center that day, and the boys told Marianne that they planned to spend the whole day there, watching. Harry felt guilty lying to Marianne, but reminded himself that this was the only way to learn about his parents and his world.

That morning, they watched Marianne drive away with matching grins, and took off as soon as she was out of sight. The community center was just a block away from the boys' school, and from there, Seamus informed Harry, it was a mere four and a half blocks to the Leaky Cauldron. They arrived in no time, and by silent agreement stopped a few doors down before entering the pub.

"Remember," Seamus began, with a nervous look towards the pub, "if anyone asks, your name is James McAllister, not Harry Potter."

"Right," replied Harry. He nervously pulled his beanie down over his forehead and bit his lip. "How do I look?" Seamus inspected his face for a few seconds before breaking into a grin.

"Like a regular boy!" he declared, slapping Harry on the back. "Let's go." Harry felt himself relax at the other boy's buoyancy, and returned the grin with a small smile of his own.

"Ok. I'm ready." He nodded, and the boys walked the few steps and entered the pub.

The Leaky Cauldron was dingy and dimly lit. Although it was a Saturday, it was only half past nine so the pub was fairly empty. The barkeep was a short, bald man who looked to be quite old. Seamus whispered to Harry that his name was Tom. Tom looked up when the boys walked in, and set down the glass he'd been polishing.

"What can I do for you boys?" he asked in a gruff voice, looking them up and down suspiciously. Seamus approached the counter with practiced ease while Harry hung back shyly.

"We're headed to the Alley," he explained. "Do you think you could open the gateway for us? We'd really appreciate it, you see Dad dropped us off and we haven't got wands yet to open it ourselves." Tom frowned.

"You two look a bit young to be wandering the Alleys on your own." he commented. "How come your dad isn't with you?" Seamus faltered at the impact of Tom's question. Harry jumped in, thinking quickly.

"He's working today," he explained. Seamus nodded along and Tom turned his attention to Harry. "And we're almost ten." That was a stretch, but Harry straightened up, adopting an aura of false pride, and plowed on. "Dad says we're finally old enough to go to the library on our own- he even said we could stop at the stores on our way!" He didn't have to fake his excitement at that.

Tom's frown deepened, but he nodded and followed the boys out the back of the pub. He took out his wand and tapped the proper brick. Harry's jaw dropped and his eyes widened in awe as the wall slowly separated, revealing a cobblestoned alley littered with shops. He felt a kick from Seamus and quickly snapped out of it. He masked his astonishment just in time for Tom to turn back around.

"Now you boys be safe," he growled. "I don't want to be hearing any stories of mischief from the shopkeepers. And you stay well clear of Knockturn or I'll drag you back here by the ear." he warned. The boys nodded solemnly and quickly thanked him, before darting off into the Alley.

Their first stop of the day was Gringotts Bank, where they would exchange their pounds for wizard money. Seamus had explained galleons, sickles, and knuts to Harry, and each of the boys had brought a good portion of their pocket money with them to the Alley. While Seamus had an allowance from the money his father had left him, Harry's money had all been earned through hard work. He'd spent many long hours slaving away in the neighborhood, doing anything from gardening to pet sitting just to earn a few pounds. Harry tightened his fist around the money in his pocket. It wouldn't be easy to part with, but he hadn't spent much since the previous summer and he supposed he deserved to splurge.

As they walked toward Gringotts, Seamus regaled Harry with lighthearted stories of his trips to the wizarding bank. His (rather embellished) depiction of a time he almost fell from the cart on the way to his mum's vault left Harry in stitches.

"That sounds so cool," he proclaimed wistfully as Seamus described the roller coaster twisting through a maze of vaults under London, "I wish I had a vault down there." Seamus frowned.

"But you do," he insisted. "According to the books your parents were well-off when they died. I think your grandpa was an inventor or something." He shrugged. "I don't know exactly, but when he died he left a ton of money to your dad, so it'll be all yours now." Harry shook his head.

"No, that's not right," he explained. "If I'd inherited something, even if it were small, McAllister's would've been given an allowance for clothes and things. That's how it always goes with the kids whose parents died. Just like you get from your dad and Connie gets from her parents. I don't have that." Seamus's expression darkened.

"I hadn't thought of that. Your guardians should've been given an allowance until you were old enough to take it over. I guess that's another place the ministry messed up with you." He shook his head disdainfully.

"Well, it doesn't matter now. You have to be eleven and enrolled in a magical school before you can access your vault. Until then, you'll just have to make due." Seamus gave his frowning friend an apologetic smile. "If it makes you feel better, after your eleventh birthday, you'll probably never have to work again." he added sheepishly.

But it didn't make Harry feel better. He knew he should be happy with the news of his inheritance; it was every orphan's dream to inherit a fortune, second only to finding parents. But it seemed that this was just one more way that the wizarding world had done him wrong. For a world that claimed he was their hero, they'd done a rotten job looking out for him. First he'd ended up dumped at an orphanage, and now he'd just found out that he'd been wearing secondhand clothes and living off others' charity his whole life when he had an entire fortune that no one bothered to tell him about. Harry was reassured with his choice not to tell the ministry where he was. He wasn't sure he liked the way they ran things here.

The boys finally arrived at Gringotts, a white marble building on the north end of the alley. Seamus had warned Harry that the bank was run by goblins, but that didn't fully sink in until they reached the front entrance. The doors were guarded by a creature that could only be described as menacing. He had long fingers and pointed ears, and when Harry stared for just a second too long, the goblin turned and gave him a vicious smile, revealing sharp, pointed teeth. Seamus quickly urged Harry in.

"I know they're scary," he warned in a whisper, "but try not to stare. The goblins are mean, but all they really care about is money. Just act normal and don't try to cheat them and you'll be fine." Harry nodded, nervously eying the nearest goblin teller, before Seamus led him to the currency exchange counter on the far right. To Harry's relief, Seamus handled the exchange while Harry hung back.

When Harry and Seamus left Gringotts, their pockets were heavy with gold and silver. As they walked down the steps, Harry got his first chance to really look at the Alley. What he saw delighted him. Dozens of people strolled up and down the cobbled road, many of which wore long robes and pointed hats. Harry saw one man enter through the Leaky Cauldron wearing a set of bright pink pajamas with cupcakes on them. And the stores were like something out of a dream. They had displays full of wizardly items such as broomsticks, cauldrons, and wands. Harry saw one store advertising a bunch of sweets he'd never heard of, and from another he heard the hoots of what sounded like a hundred owls! His head swiveled from left to right, trying to take it all in.

Seamus caught Harry's expression and grinned at the shorter boy. "Where to first?" he asked. "The library is at the other end, so I figure we'll do our shopping first and then head there. I, for one, would kill for a chocolate frog right now." Harry nodded gamely and the boys headed to the nearest sweet shop.

While Seamus streamlined to the chocolate frog display, Harry wandered the store, eying the different candies carefully before making his selections. He only had a limited supply of galleons and he'd prefer not to spend them all in one place. He ended up with a nice assortment of cauldron cakes, fizzing whizbees, ice mice, sugar quills, and of course, chocolate frogs. Seamus himself was grinning like a madman, holding so many chocolate frogs that Harry suspected he'd cleared the whole shelf.

After the sweet shop, the boys headed to Gambol and Japes, the wizarding joke shop. Although they didn't buy any prank products since they wouldn't be able to use them at the orphanage, Harry did pick up a nice set of gobstones.

The boys spent the most time by far in Quality Quidditch Supplies. Harry had been fascinated by the sport ever since Seamus told him about it, and was very eager to learn as much as he could. He gazed longingly at the broom displays, knowing he wouldn't get a chance to fly until he went to Hogwarts. Seamus had to talk Harry out of buying on his own copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, reminding him that that was what the library was for, and they could hardly keep a bunch of wizarding books at the orphanage. They were stretching it just by having Modern Magical History in their dorm, where the other boys could easily find it should they get the urge to look.

The boys were almost to the library entrance when something caught Seamus's eye and he stopped. Harry followed his line of sight. Madam Marvel's Magical Makeup. His brow knitted.

"Seamus?" he asked the other boy, confused. A slow smile broke out on Seamus's face and he spun towards Harry.

"That's it!" he said with a triumphant grin.

"What?" asked Harry. He looked back at the shop, not getting it.

"Your scar!" Seamus cried, then glanced around worriedly before lowering his voice to a whisper. "We can use makeup to cover your scar!" He grinned at Harry. Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Makeup?" he asked with a grimace. He was less than thrilled with the prospect of wearing makeup. "Wouldn't that come off easily though? I'd spend the whole day worried it had faded…" Seamus shook his head.

"You're thinking muggle makeup. This is magic makeup. That stuff won't come off unless you use the right potion. Trust me, my mom lost hers once after a dinner party and she was stuck with this awful blue eye shadow for days before she could order the remover." Harry raised his eyebrows at that. "And," Seamus continued, "it'll completely blend with your skin. Not like that shoddy stuff the muggles sell." He started pulling Harry toward Madam Marvel's.

"But…" Harry was grasping for straws, "won't it be weird for a couple nine-year-old boys to buy makeup? We're supposed to be trying not to draw attention." Seamus paused at that, frowning. Then his face lit up.

"We'll tell her our sister has awful spots and she sent us to get it for her." He nodded to himself, satisfied. Harry sighed. He clearly wasn't going to win this battle.

"Ok, ok," he grumbled sulkily, following the other boy into the makeup shop.

Ten minutes later the boys emerged from the shop toting a bright pink bag. Madam Marvel was a sweet older lady, who'd dedicated her career to inventing and improving beauty potions. She had explained the usefulness of beauty potions versus spells to the boys. Glamours, she informed them, could be detected and canceled easily enough, but beauty potions could withstand cancellation spells and didn't show up on a standard detection scan. When Seamus had spun his tale about their fake sister's acne problem, Madam Marvel had lapped it right up, exclaiming over "that poor child" commending them for being such great brothers. Seamus had basked in the praise, but Harry had felt uncomfortable more than anything else. They were, after all, lying to the nice lady.

To Harry's dismay, Madam Marvel only sold the concealer he needed in large quantities. It made sense, since her usual clients used her product daily on their entire face, versus once in a while on a small portion of their forehead, but Harry had groaned inwardly at the price. Seamus had offered to help pay, but Harry had declined. It was his scar they were hiding after all, not Seamus's. It had cost nearly all the money Harry had left, but he now had enough makeup to last him for years, not that he would need it that long.

The boys finally made it to the library, a tall, tan brick building with an imposing set of cherry wood doors. The interior looked much the same as any regular muggle library, and Harry was a little put out by that.

"What were you expecting? Flying books and magic carpets?" Seamus teased.

"Something like that," Harry admitted sheepishly.

While neither Harry nor Seamus had a particularly strong love for books, they'd both agreed that they needed to do some research in order for Harry to fully understand the wizarding world. Harry still didn't know a lot about his family and his fame, as demonstrated by his lack of awareness of his fortune. He was desperate to learn more about his parents, and equally curious to read about himself and discover what the wizarding world was saying about him.

With that in mind, the boys turned their attention toward the news archives. The archives were located in a back room on the ground floor of the library. The room was dark and filled with rows and rows of tall shelves stacked with boxes. Harry groaned at the sight. They didn't want to ask a librarian for help since it would draw attention to the fact that they were researching Harry Potter, but all the boxes were unlabeled and appeared to be in no particular order. It would take months to get through them all.

Seamus saw Harry's crushed expression and smirked. He waved him over to a small table in the corner of the room. The table contained a blank scroll, though there was no ink or quill in sight. Harry looked at Seamus questioningly.

Seamus smiled smugly and placed his hand on the scroll. "Harry Potter," he spoke very clearly. Harry watched as the scroll slowly filled with electric blue writing.

The Daily Prophet, 2 August 1980

The Daily Prophet, 1 November 1981

Witch Weekly, 1 November 1981

The Daily Prophet, 2 November 1981

The Quibbler, 2 November 1981

The Daily Prophet, 3 November 1981

The list went on and on, and Harry noticed that as each new line was added to the list, different boxes would glow in the same bright blue color as the ink on the scroll. The list finally ended with The Daily Prophet, 31 October 1989 and the boys looked at each other.

"The books here may not fly," Seamus explained, "but magic does have its ways of helping us out." They shared a grin and quickly got to work searching through the glowing blue boxes. Harry found that when he opened a box, the article he needed would be lit up as well, and in no time the boys had a large stack of papers in front of them. They started at the beginning.

"The Daily Prophet, 2 August 1980," Seamus flipped through the paper until he found the article in question. "It's a birth announcement," he said. "'James and Lily Potter proudly announce the birth of their son, Harry James Potter, at 11:38 pm on 31 July, 1980 at St. Mungo's Hospital. Godmother is Marlene McKinnon and godfather is Sirius Black.' Well that doesn't tell us much." He set the paper down. Harry frowned.

"I have godparents? Then why don't I live with them?" he asked the other boy. Seamus shrugged.

"We can look them up later if you'd like," he offered. "But they might not even be alive. The war was bad back then, and your parents were right in the middle of it, so…"

"So their friends probably were too." Harry finished with a resigned nod. "Ok, we'll check later. For now let's work on these."

The boys spent the next hour reading every article about Harry that they could find. Most of them were quite ridiculous.

"This one says you're off training an army of wrackspurts in Siberia!" Seamus exclaimed, waving a magazine titled The Quibbler in front of Harry's face. Harry scrunched his nose.

"What's a wrackspurt?" he asked the other boy. Seamus shrugged.

"Beats me. But it was written when you were four!" The boys dissolved into fits of giggles.

There was, however, some useful information hidden within the papers. Harry learned that before that fateful Halloween night, he and his parents had lived in a village called Godric's Hollow. His parents were supposedly buried in the cemetery there, and their house had been memorialized in their honor.

Harry also learned what had happened to his godparents. Apparently, a few days after Voldemort was defeated Sirius Black chased down another wizard and killed him in cold blood, along with the twelve muggles who'd gotten between them. He had been locked up in Azkaban prison ever since, and Harry wondered what his parents had been thinking when they made such a violent man his godfather. After reading about Sirius Black, Harry decided to look up his godmother. He learned that Marlene McKinnon had been killed with the rest of her family in a suspected Death Eater attack in mid-1981. Harry lamented the fact that he'd never get to meet her.

The boys discovered that most of the more recent articles about Harry were rubbish, speculating about where he could be and how far his magical training had progressed. They were both relieved and amused to see that no one came even remotely near the truth. The closest guess, surprisingly enough, came from another Quibbler article. That article, published in early 1988, said that Harry was living with a family of wizards in Diagon Alley. It claimed that he often visited the wizarding districts and he hadn't been spotted simply because no one was looking for him. Naturally, that article had been dismissed as hogwash, and the general consensus seemed to be that Harry was off training in secret until the time at which he would attend Hogwarts. Harry snorted at that. If he'd had such advanced training then why in the world would he need to go to Hogwarts? Wizards made no sense sometimes.

When the boys had exhausted their supply of papers, they moved on to books. Most of the books that mentioned Harry only talked about his defeat of Voldemort, along with some theories toward the end about where he was now. It was in one of those books, titled The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, that Harry found his first real treasure. He was reading the typical story, and had just gotten to the part where Voldemort showed up at his house, when he turned the page and froze. There, in all its moving glory, was a photo of a young couple and their baby. The man had messy black hair and hazel eyes framed in round glasses. He wore a broad grin and waved up at Harry. The woman was smiling as well. She had long, dark red hair and bright green eyes. My eyes, Harry realized. Sure enough, he looked down at the caption. James, Lily, and Harry Potter, shortly before the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry looked back at the picture and greedily drank in the details. His mother was beautiful. He had clearly inherited her eyes, as well as her nose and cheekbones, he thought. But his looks favored his father by far. They shared the same messy hair, poor eyesight (although Harry wore contacts), and general facial structure. They even had the same smile. Harry stared longingly at the picture, slowly tracing his parents' features.

"What's wrong?" Seamus asked. He'd noticed his friend had stopped reading. Harry silently tilted the book so Seamus could see. Seamus looked down with a frown. Then his eyes widened as it slowly dawned on him. "Is this the first time you've seen them?" Harry nodded and the boys fell into a brief silence. Abruptly, Seamus stood.

"Let's go," he told the other boy, who had yet to move his eyes from the picture. Harry looked up in concern.

"But… I haven't finished reading this one," he started, but Seamus shook his head.

"We're going to the bookstore," he said firmly. "Flourish and Blotts will have a copy you can buy of your own." Harry's looked back at the book, crestfallen.

"I haven't any money left," he began, his eyes slowly filling with tears, "I spent it all at Madam Marvel's."

"Then I'll buy it." Seamus stated.

"But…"

"No. I'll buy it. Consider it a late Christmas present." Harry stared at him for a minute, before throwing his arms around the other boy and thanking him profusely. Seamus shook his head.

"Every kid should have a picture of their parents." He said it in a firm voice that brooked no argument.


That night, the boys sat in the fort in their room. An assortment of books they had borrowed from the Diagon Alley library lay spread across their beds, and Harry had his brand new copy of The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts propped open to his family's picture. Seamus, who was munching away at a chocolate frog, looked over.

"The resemblance really is scary," he commented, gesturing between Harry and the waving image of James Potter. "I mean, now that you've taken that hat off you're practically identical. It's a good thing you wear contacts, with some big round glasses there'd be no mistaking who you were, even with your scar covered." Seamus frowned thoughtfully. "We'll have to do something about that hair." Harry looked up, alarmed.

"I'm not cutting it," he declared immediately. "Marianne tried once… It was awful. I looked like Gollum from The Lord of the Rings." Seamus snickered at the image and Harry pointed to his head. "The hair's staying."

"Ok," Seamus conceded, "but we'll have to do something to make it less… Distinct." he finished tactfully. Harry nodded.

"I know. It just won't stay still though. I'm telling you, it's got a mind of its own. I brush it every morning and ten seconds later it's back like this." He gestured irritably at the wild mop on his head.

"Have you tried gelling it?" Seamus asked. Harry wrinkled his nose. "Not slicked back completely," Seamus assured him, "you don't want to look like a complete ponce. Maybe just a little to help style it and keep it still?" Harry shrugged.

"I guess I could try it," he muttered doubtfully, "I'll have to make some more pocket money first. I'm all wiped out." Seamus nodded.

"You won't need it until it gets warm out anyway. You've got the hat until then." Harry nodded and looked back at his book, absentmindedly sucking on a sugar quill. A few minutes passed, in which Seamus tore into another chocolate frog and began flipping through a copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. Then Harry spoke up.

"Hey Seamus," he began hesitantly.

"Hm?" the other boy replied, glancing up from a passage on hellhounds. "What is it?" he asked.

"It's just…" he gestured down at the book in front of him. " When I first saw this picture I was excited, you know? I'd never seen their picture and I had no idea what they looked like until then. But when you saw it you knew who they were right away. You've seen their pictures before, haven't you?" Seamus nodded. He thought he knew where this was going. To be honest, he'd been waiting for this ever since he'd told Harry about magic.

"I've spent my whole life wondering who I am and where I came from," Harry continued, "and then this afternoon, we went to the library and learned all this stuff about me. It was just sitting there for anyone to read." Harry's frown deepened as he went on. "I never even knew my parents' names, and the rest of the world knows all this stuff about them. You didn't think twice about seeing their picture in that book, it was normal to you. And it's just… It's just not fair. It's like a part of me was stolen and given to the public without me even knowing." Harry finished, clearly distressed. Seamus nodded compassionately and put a hand on the other boy's shoulder.

"You're right," he agreed, taking Harry by surprise. "What the wizarding world did to you was horrible. Whether they meant to or not, they abandoned you and left you clueless to who you are. It's like you did your part and saved their world, so after that they couldn't be bothered. It's not fair." Seamus's building anger caught Harry off guard. He'd never seen the easy-going boy so serious. Harry continued, encouraged.

"And then there are all those articles about me. They say I'm off training and learning advanced magic. They all think I've been on some big adventure my whole life. What's going to happen when I go to Hogwarts? Everyone will expect some great and powerful wizard, and if I hadn't met you I wouldn't have even known about magic until I got there. Part of me wants to refuse my letter when it does come just to get back at them, but I really, really want to learn magic. They're going to be so disappointed when it turns out I'm just average, though." Seamus's eyes narrowed and when he spoke his tone was lethal.

"You won't be average, Harry. We'll make sure of that." There was a fire growing in his eyes. "We'll study up and become great wizards. That's how you'll get back at them. The wizards think they can just do whatever they want to people and no one will stop them." Seamus slammed his book closed in frustration. "Well they're wrong. We won't let them." He was breathing deeply and Harry stared, stunned. He tilted his head, his frustration melting to concern.

"Seamus?" he probed gently. Seamus looked at the other boy, suddenly realizing how carried away he'd gotten.

"Sorry," he explained, "They just make me so angry sometimes…" He tried to shrug it off, but was clearly still upset. Harry was trying to figure something out.

"Did they do something?" he asked, "To you?" Seamus shook his head.

"No. They didn't do anything." He looked at the other boy, an obvious debate going on inside him. "Harry… I told you I have an uncle, right?" Harry nodded. "Well, he's my mum's older brother, a wizard," Seamus continued quickly before he could lose his nerve. "When mum died he got into this big fight with my dad, who's a muggle, you know. He threatened to take me from dad." Harry's eyes widened. "When dad objected, Uncle Ronan told him that since I was a wizard, Dad had no rights to me. He said if he wanted to he could take me right then and make my dad forget he'd ever had a son." Harry gasped, horrified. "He didn't," Seamus hastily assured him, "Dad and I left and I haven't seen him since. But Harry… I looked it up later. Uncle Ronan wasn't lying. As my closest magical family, he could have taken me from dad and erased his memory. That's legal." He finished, disgusted. Harry stared.

"But that's," he began, "that's crazy! He's your dad! They can't do that!" he exclaimed. Seamus snorted darkly.

"Remember what I told you about the obliviators?" Harry shuddered. He remembered. "The ministry doesn't care about muggles. As far as they're concerned, they're not even people. It's like I said before, they just do whatever they want and no one stops them."

There was a long pause, then, "We'll stop them." Harry declared confidently. "And we'll find a way to get back at them too. Your uncle, the ministry, and anyone else who tries to hurt us. We'll show them that they can't just push us around and make us do whatever they want." Harry looked back down at the dark haired man and green-eyed woman beaming up from the pages of his book. "And they can't take away our families." He finished firmly. Seamus nodded back at the other boy, with a hint of a smile.

"I'm glad I met you, Harry."