Disclaimer: I own absolutely none of this story, other than any OC's I may choose to use in the future. All of this belongs to J.K Rowling, I also ask you that you do not hold me to her standards, because I am not, nor will I ever be on her level when it comes to creativity or writing genius.
Authors Note:
Ok, so another chapter. and there's one thing I'd like to address. First, is Harry's relationship with Dumbledore. Harry doesn't like or hate Dumbledore. He is for the most part neutral in that regard. However, he is more than a little upset with him and greatly mistrusts him.
"Speech"
'Internal Dialogue'
Parseltongue
Memories
Chapter 3 Diagon Alley
Harry's head was spinning. In the last hour, he had been told he was a wizard, that his parents were killed, not by a car crash; but by the most powerful dark lord in human history, and that he, Harry, as an infant had conquered said Dark Lord. He had then been transported to a place called the Leaky Cauldron, told briefly of the goblins that ran the wizarding bank, Gringotts, and warned to treat them with the utmost respect. He had then been given a key to his Gringotts vault and then, thankfully, the old man had taken his leave and left Harry in peace.
Now, Harry stood outside of the shabby little place known as the Leaky Cauldron, and took a deep breath before entering. The interior was also a bit shabby, but Harry thought it suited the place quite nicely. He tried to walk through the pub without drawing attention to himself. Since Dumbledore had told him he was the most famous wizard alive, and to be honest, Harry had know intention of dealing with a mob of people wanting autographs. Therefore, his heart sank when the bartender called to him. "Oi, you there, want something to drink, need assistance, anything."
Harry turned to face the man and instantly regretted the decision. By doing this he gave the man a clear look at his face. And in his rush, he hadn't even made sure his fringe was hiding the lightning scar on his forehead, which Dumbledore had explained was just as famous as it's owner. Despite the emotions running through his head, Harry kept his face an impassive mask. Years of needing to suppress his anger with the Dursleys had taught him to conceal his emotions very well indeed. But, the inevitable happened, the bartender's eyes went wide, and he rushed out from behind the bar to greet harry.
"By Merlin's staff, everybody it's HARRY POTTER!" Harry almost cursed as the bartender screamed his name for the world to here. Immediately muttering broke out.
"Harry Potter did he say?"
"THE, Harry Potter?"
"That boy can't be Harry Potter, he's far too sickly looking."
Harry tried hard not to snap at that last one. And then a bald man with a very high voice rushed forwards and interrupted Harry's brooding. "Diggle sir, Dedalus Diggle, an honour, AN HONOUR to meet you at last!"
Harry reluctantly shook hands with Dedalus Diggle, and for the second time that day regretted his decision. Harry was then met by Hestia Jones, Elphias Doge, Sturgis Podmore, and countless others who he could not remember. He then begrudgingly shook hands with Tom the bartender before finally making his way out of the Leaky Cauldron, and into Diagon Alley.
Harry's next breath caught in his throat, this place was… well… there was no other word for it, magical. Harry saw shops of varying varieties. Shops that sold potions ingredients, shops that sold books, shops that sold owls, shops that sold cats, and toads, shops that sold broomsticks, and cauldrons, and telescopes. He saw an ice cream shop, a building that looked to be a joke shop and one building taller than all the rest, which Harry deduced must have been Gringotts, the Wizarding bank that Dumbledore had spoken of. Harry set his sights on Gringotts and began to make his way in that direction.
Harry had to try very hard not to get side tracked, and he was quite proud of his success. He had kept on his track the entire way, even when a boy had muttered somewhere off to his left. "Wow, a Nimbus 2000, that's the fastest broom in the world that is."
Though Harry was successful at staying on track, it still took him ages to reach the Wizarding bank, this was because for all of his success at staying focused on his goal, he had not had half as much success remaining inconspicuous.
Harry stopped counting how many times he was stopped in the streets after shaking hands with the 27th stranger since the Leaky Cauldron.
When Harry at last reached, and climbed the marble steps leading to Gringotts, he couldn't help but notice the goblins stationed almost like security guards. However, when reading the message inscribed on the doors, Harry realized that was probably exactly what the goblins were.
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.
"So," thought Harry, "they really do take security seriously."
When Harry entered what appeared to be the main lobby of the bank, his breath caught in his throat for the second time since entering the magical mecca.
The lobby was stunning, brass floors emblazoned with the emblem of Gringotts, marble pillars from floor to ceiling, and gold plated doors leading off in every direction.
Harry walked to what appeared to be the main desk very hesitantly. As angry with Dumbledore as he was, he had not forgotten his warning of what would happen to him if he disrespected the goblins. He also remembered that according to Dumbledore goblins took too much emotion as a sign of weakness. And Harry would NEVER again be perceived as weak! So, he plastered a blank mask upon his face and stepped up to the desk.
"Greetings," he said in a polite but firm tone, bowing slightly as he spoke. "My name is Harry Potter, and I have come to take a withdraw from my vault, and I also ask that my parents will be read." Harry had not told the old man of this invention for he was quite sure that his parents would never have wanted him with his aunt and uncle, and that this will would prove it. He also suspected from speaking with him, that Dumbledore would not approve of him leaving his aunt and uncle. So for a quick moment Harry felt quite smug, feeling like he had outwitted the old man. That was until the goblin spoke.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, a pleasure to see you at last; we have been expecting you for years now. I will have a goblin take you to your trust vault immediately, if you present me with your key." Harry did so, and the goblin, upon examining Harry's key spoke again. "Yes, all seems to be in working order; however, on the note of your parents will, I'm sorry to inform you that we were given strict orders by your parents not to read the will to anyone until your 12th birthday. You can of course, come to Gringotts next July, the day you turn 12, and the will will be presented to you without question."
Harry's heart sank, but on the pleasant side, at least it gave him something to look forward to next summer. "Very well." He said. "If that was the wish of my parents, I will honour it with no complaint."
It was at this moment that another goblin stepped forward.
"Ah yes Griphook," the first goblin spoke "Mr. Potter would like to visit his trust vault, you will escort him to his vault and bring him back here."
"Trust vault?" Questioned Harry, only partially succeeding at keeping the surprise out of his tone.
"Yes," said the goblin, "we were to keep you on a trust account with 50,000 galleons, this will be refilled every month to that capacity, assuming of course you have withdrawn money in that month."
"When will I get access to my vault?" Harry questioned yet again.
"We will not know the answer to that question until the will is read next summer." The goblin answered cooley.
"Very well, thank you for your assistance, I will go to my vault now." Harry said this with another slight bow, and a nod to the second goblin, Griphook.
Harry was led into a rickety cart. The cart zoomed down the tracks at breakneck speed, it hugged corners, and went up and down bumps in the track like the world's oldest, and most dangerous roller coaster. Though Harry did not get the least bit motion sick, as the goblin had said happened to plenty of wizard's, he couldn't help but be a little nervous as they zoomed further, and further underground until they finally reached the vault in question.
"This is it," the goblin spoke in a rather high voice. "The Potter trust vault. Key please?" Griphook held out a hand, and Harry handed him the key.
Griphook opened the vault and Harry's jaw nearly hit the floor.
Harry had been told the vault contained 50,000 galleons, but hearing it and seeing it were too very different things. Harry also remembered that Dumbledore had said that a galleon worked out to approximately £5. So, with some quick mental maths, Harry deduced that he stood in front of a small fortune worth £250,000 in the muggle world. He couldn't help but smile ear to ear. This was more money than Dudley had had, or probably would ever have, in his life. This was more money than his uncle made in a year, and yet it was only a small portion of the true fortune that Harry was entitled to. He also knew, without a shadow of a doubt that the Dursley's had absolutely no idea of this vaults existence. If they had known, Uncle Vernon, who complained regularilly about how expensive it was to house Harry, would have ransacked the vault years ago.
Harry filled a fairly large bag with Galleons, and despite the bags fairly large capacity,: it was positively bulging with the golden coins. He then did the same with two more bags, filling one with silver sickles, and the other with bronze knuts. Harry knew this was far more money than he would need for the year, despite him not knowing exactly how much he had taken out, but he just didn't care. Harry had never had so much as $1 to his name until this moment. So if he seemed like a prat for carrying around an exuberant amount of gold, than so be it, and let the world take pity on those who couldn't share this luxury. 'While the world is at it,' Harry thought with a smirk, 'let the world burn the Dursley's in hell for keeping him from his rightful fortune for 10 long years.'
Once Harry was done looting his vault, Griphook took control of the kart and just like that, they were back in the breathtaking lobby of Gringotts. Harry bowed deeply to the goblin. "Thank you for your assistance Griphook, your time and effort is not lost on me, and it is greatly appreciated." Harry spoke the words in the most polite voice he could manage. In reality, he was sure Griphook was paid for this, so he wasn't overly bothered.
Griphook gave Harry an odd look before speaking again. "You are a very odd wizard Harry Potter."
"How so?" Asked Harry.
"Most wizards couldn't care a flobberworm for our kind, nor our time, your gesture is much appreciated Mr. Potter." With that the goblin returned Harry's bow.
"And with that I bid you a fine farewell, and let your gold flow, and your enemies parish."
"Likewise, Griphook." With that Harry stepped back out into the blinding light, and smouldering heat of the warm, summer day.
Harry pondered where to spend his first galleon in the wizarding world. He almost asked for the price tag on that Nimbus 2000, but then he remembered that his letter had explicitly stated that first years were not allowed their own broomstick; and given its length and quite obvious shape, Harry very much doubted his ability to smuggle it in to the school unnoticed.
So it was, with this in mind that Harry opened the door to Madam Malkin's Robes For all Occasions. A bell rang gently out as Harry opened the door and stepped into the well lit shop.
"Hogwarts dear?" Asked a middle age woman who must have been Madam Malkin.
"Yes madam," Harry intoned.
"Excellent, come back this way my dear, there is another boy getting done up right back here. If you would just stand on this stool I will begin."
Harry did as he was instructed and glanced over to his right as he did so, there, another boy was being robed in the same standard black robes as Harry was.
The boy was quite a bit taller than Harry, maybe 4 or 5 inches, but that was no surprise, years of malnourishment had made Harry one of the shortest and skinniest boys his age that he had ever seen. Many of the girls had been taller than him at his own school. With another vengeful thought towards the Dursley's, Harry inspected the boy more closely, he was very pale, with platinum blonde hair and deep grey eyes. Despite the obvious disparity in height he looked no older than Harry.
"Hello," the boy said, "Hogwarts as well?"
"Yes," said Harry, "are you a first year as well?"
"Yes, shame really, I desperately want a new broom, but because of that stupid rule against first years owning one mother won't buy me one. She's down the street looking at cauldrons and my father is looking for school books. I may try to bully father into getting me one anyway. Though I suppose a broomstick wouldn't be the easiest thing to sneak in." He spoke the last part more to himself then to Harry, but Harry laughed inwardly that this boy had had the same thought about the broom that Harry had. "So, do you know what house you'll be in?" Asked the boy.
Harry was confused by this. He assumed this was something to do with Hogwarts but Dumbledore hadn't gone into any detail about the school itself. "No." Harry said simply.
"Well," Said the other boy, "I suppose no one really knows where they'll end up until they get there, I'm sure I'll be in Slytherin though, my whole family have been Slytherin's you know." The boy finished the statement with a great amount of pride in his draulling tone. But the boy wasn't done there."Say, do you play Quidditch?"
Again Harry was lost so he spoke up again.
"I never have." Then he added in a lie to try and make it seem like he wasn't completely clueless, "wouldn't mind giving it a shot though. You?"
"Oh yes," said the boy casually, "I play all the time. Father said it'll be a crime if I don't make the house team second year when I have a decent broom. Say, what's your surname."
Harry's heart sank, he knew that when he gave the answer to this question, he would end any normality in this conversation. But, the boy had been friendly with him, something Harry was not accustomed to. So he decided to answer honestly.
"Potter, OW!." The moment he had spoke his surname, the lady doing his robes had stabbed him rather painfully with the pin she had been holding. He heard the boy beside him gasp, and then cry out as well, as the woman doing his robes also evidently stabbed him.
"I'm sorry dear." Both women quickly amended.
"Are you really?" The boy asked, seemingly making no attempt to keep the utter astonishment out of his voice.
"Yes." Harry answered. "The thing is, I don't know anything about this world, I was raised by muggles and-"
"WHAT!" The boy exclaimed. "YOU WERE RAISED BY MUGGLES! Harry Potter, heir to ant Ancient and Most Noble House, the vanquisher of the Dark Lord, and they go and repay you by sticking you with MUGGLES." The boy spat on the floor.
"Really!" Madam Malkin exclaimed, "if you could keep your saliva in your mouth where it belongs it would be much appreciated." She spat at the boy.
The boy however, seemed completely unphased as he pressed on. "I've heard loads of stories you know, well I guess you must not know. Any DECENT wizard hates muggles, they've done so much to wizards in the past, and we all think they're savages-"
"Now really!" Exclaimed one of the women. "We do not need you endorsing your pureblood supremacist views in this shop! Really I'm sure muggles aren't that bad." She then looked at Harry. "Aren't I right dear?"
"They're HORRIBLE!" Harry exclaimed, drawing horrified looks from the women doing their robes. "There might be some decent ones out there, but all of them I've met are dreadful. My aunt and uncle at the top of the list. They hated magic, and never even told me I was a wizard." He let out a derisive laugh. "The only reason I'm here right now, is because Dumbledore came and told me my story personally."
"Disgusting," the boy said, "this is exactly why any wizard with a decent sense of self worth recognizes that muggles are a vermin on this planet. Some wizarding families though, I'm afraid to say aren't so wise." At this, he smeared at the woman who had advacated against him moments earlier. "There are some families you'll want to stay clear of." The boy's robes were done now, and he stepped off the stool. A moment later Madam Malkin pronounced Harry's robes to be complete as well. Harry stepped down as well and turned to face the boy, who spoke again. "I can help you sort out who are the right kinds of wizards Potter." The boy said confidently. He held out his hand pompously. "I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
Harry reached out and took Draco's hand, shaking it firmly. "Thanks Draco, I appreciate it, and I'm sure I'll need the help."
So, with that, the two new companions walked out of Madam Malkin's.
Harry wasn't quite sure what to think of this boy. On one hand, he had been quite kind to Harry, but on the other he seemed a bit annoying an obnoxiously arrogant. 'However', Harry thought, 'he did seem to know what he was talking about.' So Harry decided, he'd get to know the boy, and if he didn't feel like being "friends," he would at the very least, lead Draco to believe they were, and use him for his knowledge and apparent connections.
"So," Harry said as they walked, "like I said I'm completely clueless, so could I ask you some questions? To you, they'll probably seem stupid, but I really don't know.
"That's hardly your fault." Draco remarked a rather bitter expression plastered upon his pale face. "Sure, ask away."
"What were these houses you were talking about earlier?"
"Ah, probably a good thing you asked that. Hogwarts is divided into four houses. Your house is kind of like your family at Hogwarts. You have a house common room, a house dormitory, you eat with your house, and you go to lessons with the people who are in your house and year. There are 4 houses," Draco Malfoy continued. "Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." Harry could literally feel the love in Draco's voice as he spoke the word "Slytherin" and likewise, he could here the disgust as he spoke the first two, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. "You get sorted into your house by this magic hat," Draco explained, "I don't know how it does it, but I guess it must be able to read your mind or something."
Harry suppressed a shutter at the very thought of "mind reading." "You're sorted into a house based on character. Each house has something it values, and you're sorted into the house that your characteristics best line up with. Gryffindors are brave; but that also means a lot of them are adrenaline seeking idiots, Hufflepuffs are supposedly loyal, but my older brother, father, and just about everyone else in the world says there a bunch of duffers. Ravenclaws are all really smart, brainiac kids who are obsessed with books, and learning. I suppose," Draco added seemingly more to himself then to Harry,"Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad. But then there's Slytherin." The love and pride in his voice were suddenly evident yet again.
"Slytherin is the best!" He stated matter of factly. "They're all cunning and ambitious. That means they get what they want, no matter what! And since they're all really ambitious they almost all become excellent at everything they do, and almost always achieve their life goals.
Harry thought that Draco was probably exaggerating that last bit a little. Though cunning, and especially ambition sounded like it suited him. Harry had been oppressed for 10 long years. He wanted nothing more than to prove himself, to master magic, to kill the son of a bitch who murdered his parents in cold blood, and to one day, maybe even become the greatest wizard alive. 'And,' he thought to himself, I'll do almost anything to get there.' So cunning lined up pretty well also. So it was then Harry decided, he was going to be a Slytherin, and he wouldn't take no for an answer.
"Ok," Harry spoke up, and at last voiced his next question, "tell me about yourself, and tell me about this "quidditch."
As they walked Draco gave Harry, what he considered, far more information than he had needed on Quidditch. Though he was finding that Draco talked far too much, and that this was an annoying habit, still, he couldn't help but be fascinated by the game of Quidditch, and suddenly, had the desperate urge to hop on a broom and give it a go. Harry also learned of how Draco's family was one of the richest and most powerful wizarding families in Great Britain, if not the world, and how his father was on the board of governors for Hogwarts. It was at this point they walked into Ollivander's wand shop, and they ran into a beautiful woman. She was quite tall, with long pale blonde hair, a willowy figure, and blue eyes.
"Draco," the woman spoke in a firm and slightly haughty tone. She stepped forward and pulled what must have been her son into a tight embrace.
"Mother," chimed Draco, "you're embarrassing me in front of my new friend. A first impression goes a long way you know."
The woman chuckled and released her son, she then turned her eyes upon Harry.
"Narcissa Malfoy." The woman spoke to Harry holding out her hand. "And to whom do I owe the pleasure."
Harry shook hands with the woman and said "A pleasure to meet you Mrs. Malfoy, my name is Harry Potter, and I'm pleased to become your acquaintance."
Harry suddenly had to suppress the instinct to wince as Narcissa Malfoy's grip suddenly became vice like, and Harry lost feeling in his fingers, as her long nails dug rather painfully into his skin.
"By Merlin," she said softly "so you are." She then seemed to notice that Harry's hand was imprisoned in hers. "Oh, I'm sorry my dear." She said, mercifully releasing Harry's hand. "You just gave me the surprise of my life is all, an honour to meet you Mr. Potter."
Harry wanted to groan, but instead he plastered a completely artificial, but equally convincing smile onto his face. "The pleasure is all mine Mrs. Malfoy." He said politely, and then another voice spoke from the shadows.
"Harry Potter, so we meet at last; I have been expecting you for some time now."
The man who stepped out of the shadows was ancient, with dark grey eyes, and whitening hair.
"You must be Mr. Ollivander, Sir." Harry said without much confidence.
"Indeed, I am Mr. Potter, and may I presume you are here to collect your wand."
"Yes sir." Harry said firmly
"Alright then." The old man said inspecting Harry with what seemed to be great interest. "You have your mother's eyes you know. It seems only yesterday she was here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
"Your father on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven Inches. Pliable. A bit more powerful, and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it — but it really is the wand that chooses the wizard of course."
Mr. Ollivander came so close that him and Harry were almost nose to nose.
"And that's where." He said softly, touching the lighting bolt scar on Harry's forehead, Harry flinched away instinctively, and had to fight down the urge to bat the old man's hand away. "I'm sorry to say that I sold the wand that did it," he said softly, "thirteen and a half inches. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands —- well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do—-"
He shook his head, and then, to Harry's relief spotted the Malfoy's. The old man struck up a quick and polite conversation with Narcissa and shook hands with Draco, before calling out a magical tape measure to measure Draco, seemingly in every way imaginable. When it was done, the old man took box after box off the shelves and Draco tried about a dozen wands before finally he found the one. Draco's face lit up as soon as his hand had closed around the wood of the wand. He then waved it violently and one of the boxes shot across the small shop and struck one of the shelves with such force that the boxes of wands on it promptly tumbled to the ground.
"Bravo, bravo!" Exclaimed Mr. Ollivander "10 inches long, Hawthorn and Unicorn hair. Very well done indeed." Draco beamed and looked even more pompous than Harry had seen so far. "And now," said Mr. Ollivander, with what seemed to be excitement in his voice, "Now, it is your turn Mr. Potter."
After being measured in every uncomfortable way he had witnessed Draco suffer through earlier, the fun began. Harry tried wand after wand after wand, but none of them were working. The peculiar thing was that the more wands Harry tried, the more enthusiastic Mr. Ollivander seemed to become, until finally, he said, more to himself then to the others. "I wonder if … perhaps, it is funny how these things work out sometimes … ah why not let's give it a try." Mr. Ollivander handed Harry another wand.
But this one was different, as soon as Harry's fingers closed around the wand he felt warmth spread from his fingertips to every fiber of his being. Harry raised the wand, and brought it slashing through the air. Golden light erupted from the tip of the wand and exploded in mid air into what was an incredible firework display.
Draco whooped and cheered. Mrs Malfoy clapped and said "Well done, well done, I wish my first display of magic had been half as impressive."
The most peculiar reaction however, was neither one of the Malfoy's, but instead Mr. Ollivander. As he took the wand and wrapped it in paper and put it carefully back into the ornate box, he was muttering to himself. "Curious … curious"
"Excuse me sir," interrupted Harry in the most polite tone he could manage, "but what's curious?"
"I remember every wand I've ever sold Mr. Potter, every last one. This one," he indicated the boy, the box in his hands, "is 11 inches made of holly, and it's core is that of a phoenix tail feather." Narcissa gasped, and Draco looked gobsmacked. "Phoenix feather Mr. Potter, is an unbelievably rare core, it is very unyielding, it will wait for the absolute perfect match, and will accept them and only them. To give you some context on how rare they are. This one has been sitting on my shelf for 56 years."
Harry was shocked by this, but he felt like there was more to the story. "Go on." Harry said encouragingly
"Well, it just so happens," Ollivander continued "that the phoenix who provided the tail feather for this wand gave one other. And this wand's brother," he was speaking deathly quiet now, his voice was barely more than a whisper. "This wand's brother gave you that scar, this wand's brother belonged to the Dark Lord."
Harry tried to mask his emotions, but despite his skill in the field he failed miserably. He now looked equally as gobsmacked as Draco had minutes earlier.
"I think," Mr. Ollivander pressed on, seemingly unphased by the sudden change in the atmosphere, "that we should expect great things from you Mr. Potter. After all, the Dark Lord did great things, terrible yes, but great."
After exchanging quick pleasantries with Mr. Ollivander the three left the shop and made their way around some of the other stores in Diagon Alley. Harry bought his scales, telescope, phials, and potion ingredients when they entered Flourish and Blotts bookstore.
"Father!" Exclaimed Draco. "Father come here, I have somebody who I would like you to meet." Draco's father was a tall thin man with a pale complexion, and a pointed face much like Draco. He also had the pale blonde hair, and slightly haughty look of his wife and son. His hair however, was long, falling down passed his shoulders. His eyes were the same piercing grey as Draco's."Father," Draco cut in again, "I'd like you to meet Harry Potter."
The man's face registered shock for only a second before he pulled it back together. Being skilled in that very same motion, Harry appreciated the way Draco's father pulled it off, and could tell that much like himself, he had mastered the skill years earlier. He smiled politely at Harry, and either the smile was genuine or this man deserved an Oscar. He held out his hand and spoke. "Mr. Potter, an honour, an honour indeed; I've been looking forward to this day for many years. My name is Lucius Malfoy, and by the look of it you have already met my son Draco, and my beautiful wife Narcissa."
"Yes sir," Harry replied, shaking the man's hand while doing so. "Your son has been very good at explaining things to me, seeing as I was forced to live with muggles, and knew nothing of this world up until a few hours ago."
Lucius's face darkened at the mention of the muggles and grew more enraged the further Harry got with his statement. "Bastards!" Lucius hissed under his breath. "Well Mr. Potter, I'm pleased to hear that my son has been of some assistance, if you have any questions between now and September the 1st, do not hesitate to owl me. Which reminds me Draco, we must be off soon to get your owl. Mr. Potter would you like to accompany us, I see you have not purchased one yet yourself."
"Thank you sir," Harry said politely. "It would be my pleasure, I just need to purchase my books first."
And with that, Harry purchased not only his school books but some others as well. He took recommendations both from the shopkeeper and from the Malfoy's. Soon he not only had his school books but also had Hogwarts a History, and Quidditch Through the Ages, along with a couple of books on curses and hexes, one on the Ministry of Magic, one on the Wizengamot, one on bloodlines, and one on pureblood customs and traditions. The last three had been suggested by Mr. Malfoy after he had informed Harry that one day, he would be the head of the Ancient and Most Noble House of Potter. Draco had recommended Quidditch through the ages. The shopkeeper had recommended the ones on Hogwarts and the Ministry. And the ones on jinxes and curses well, Harry thought, he wouldn't mind testing a few of those out on the Dursley's.
After Flourish and Blotts they made their final stop of the day to Eeylops Owl Emporium. Draco's father purchased Draco an eagle owl, and Harry selected a snowy white owl who he was quite fond of. To his great surprise Mr. Malfoy insisted on paying for Harry's owl. "No trouble at all Mr. Potter," he had said, "call it an early birthday present from us." Harry had graciously accepted the offer, and thanked him repeatedly for the gesture.
After a large helping of dinner at one of the many restaurants, it was finally time to part ways.
"You'll write to me?" Draco asked, sounding, to Harry's great amusement, rather nervous of his answer.
"Of course I'll write to you." Harry said, this drew the largest smile Harry had seen on Draco's face all day, aside from perhaps when he had selected his wand.
"Brilliant!" The other boy exclaimed excitedly! "I'll see you on the train on September the 1st then."
"Take care Mr. Potter, I hope those barbaric muggles treat you as fairly as their nature allows." Harry shook hands with Mr. Malfoy again.
"It was great to meet you Harry, and I'm happy you have taken to our son," said Narcissa. "You seem to be a great young man, and I think you and Draco will be very good for each other."
"Thank you Mrs. Malfoy," Harry said, as for the first time in living memory he was pulled into a hug. This shocked him and he stiffened. Harry hated being touched above all other things. Probably because the only thing that had touched him before were knuckles. He tried his best not to show it, but he could tell she noticed. Mercifully however, she did not pursue the issue.
"Thank you so much for the owl Mr. Malfoy." Harry said shaking hands with the man one final time.
"Think nothing of it, we hope to see you on September the 1st, and remember any questions, any at all, just owl me, and I will answer to the best of my ability. And if for some unearthly reason I can not answer, I would bet you a million galleons I know someone who can."
"Thank you sir," Harry turned to Draco, "thank you Draco, I'll write you, but if I don't write you soon enough for your liking, feel free to write me, I think I'm going to be nose deep in books the rest of the summer. I have a lot of catching up to do."
"Sure thing Harry, see you then." And with that the Malfoy's were off, and Harry boarded the bus, and endured the long ride back to Privet Drive.
…..
Authors Endnote
Wow, this was longer than I expected. I'm a little nervous to see how this one is received, because I think this was quite highly anticipated and quite a lot happened. I hope I met your guys's expectations.
Also there was one reviewer who expressed his desire for Harry to have a different wand, I hope you guys don't mind, but there was absolutely no way I was changing his wand. Not only is it a hell of a plot device for future duels, but it is a symbolic bond between Harry and Voldemort along with their physical one.
Two more things while we're here
First, yes I know, Draco doesn't have an older brother, but for the sake of this story he does.
Second, yes I exaggerated the rarity and importance of phoenix wands, they are quite rare, but I made them out to be near impossible to get. That was just a plot device to make Harry and Tom's wands seem even more connected.
Finally I'd like to give a shout out to someone who has been an incredibly frequent reviewer and who has given me a few very interesting ideas for later on.
So thank you and shout out to PhoenixAureum, your support is much appreciated.
Next chapter, Harry boards a scarlet steam engine for the most important ride of his life, and runs into his first bit of resistance in the magical world.
This chapter has been revised on June 2nd 2019 in order to fix some horrendous grammatical errors; as well as to address my outdated AN's and style of formatting. I also made a few small tweaks to the dialogue, which I will be doing a lot of where Draco is involved. As well as changing the convention from $5 to £5.