Although Kate had only managed to drift off to sleep at one o'clock in the morning, she practically bounced out of the station as the group made their way down Charing Cross. Professor Sprout had met them at the platform; she was wearing a comfortable-looking patchwork of wool and cotton, underneath a long, battered coat. Her old hat was squashed firmly on her head, and she paused every now and then to catch her breath.

Kate adored London. Her parents took her on sporadic trips to the British Museum whenever they could, and she had seen just about every historical tourist trap the city offered. The filthy, grimy underbelly of street hawkers and shadows lurking in alleyways, the tourists with their cameras, the locals shouting and laughing as they clambered down the street. Kate couldn't get enough of the place.

"Here we are, the Leaky Cauldron!"

At first glance it looked no different than any of the numerous down-at-the-heel traditional pubs. The mullioned window panes were foggy with age, and the rusty iron sign hanging above the front door squeaked in the breeze. But Mr and Mrs Richardson spent a full minute blinking owlishly at it, then gasped in surprise. Kate smiled; she was pleased that she'd been able to see it so easily.

When they entered they passed by a red-faced, elderly gentleman who was standing behind the bar. He nodded a greeting and went back to cleaning the glasses with an old cloth. The patrons were a mixed bunch; there was a group of little old ladies sitting around a table, and something swathed in black lurking in a dark corner which had large pointy ears. Kate skirted around a hooded individual who, judging by his elongated fingers and bone-white skin, she was absolutely convinced was a vampire.

"Hullo Quirrell, afraid we can't stop!" Professor Sprout waved cheerfully at a thin young man in a purple turban as they passed through the back door of the pub and out into a tiny courtyard. "Professor Quirrell will be taking over the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts this year. Hopefully he stays a bit longer than the others; I'm afraid we've had a pretty poor run of teachers leaving that department of late."

"Why's that?"

Professor Sprout pulled her wand from her pocket and shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't know. Now stand back please and remember-" she gestured towards a small knot of bricks in the middle of the wall. "-these are the ones you want." She tapped them three times with her wand.

The bricks jostled and shifted, a hole forming in the middle of the knot. The hole widened until they were standing before a large archway with a cobbled street lined with shops beyond. Kate blinked, pinched the back of her hand discreetly to make sure she wasn't asleep, and took a step forward.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley!" Noise assaulted her from all direction; owls hooted from store fronts and voices raised and lowered in pitch as they walked along. There were bushels of herbs drying on racks, large piles of cauldrons with signs in front of them, and people walking about everywhere in robes. Her parents nearly slammed into the back of her when they passed Flourish and Blotts; when they reached Quality Quidditch Supplies, her father had to practically carry her to get her to away from it.

"Yes you will be learning to fly a broomstick at school but I'm afraid first years must borrow theirs from the Hogwarts supply" explained Professor Sprout, as they reached the end of the street. Looming over them was an imposing, slightly lop-sided building with Gringotts emblazoned across it in large golden letters. They climbed the white marble steps, and Kate read the inscription on the frosted glass door.

"What does it mean by 'finding more than treasure there'?"

"Well," said Professor Sprout, pushing the door open, "According to local gossip, the lower vaults of the bank are guarded by dragons." Kate nodded; that made a lot of sense. Dragons were notorious for protecting treasure; what better security system for a magical bank than a twenty-foot fire-breathing menace? She hoped they were feeding them well.

There were goblins everywhere. Parts of them looked quite similar to the pictures Kate had seen in books of fairy tales, but for the most part they were beady-eyed and short, with clever faces and sharp pointed smiles. They joined a short queue and were served by a female goblin, Lockfang, who exchanged the wad of cash the Richardsons had brought for a bag of unusual coins.

"Where shall we go first hmm?" asked Professor Sprout. Kate looked over her mother's arm as she consulted the supply list the school had sent. "Why don't we get everything in order?" said her father. "Alright then" said Professor Sprout. She gestured across the street; a brightly-lit shop with dressmakers dummies in the window beckoned them forward.

The dummies were fitted with robes and cloaks of various designs, and had been enchanted to move around whenever someone approached. A squat woman in mauve looked up as the bell above the door jingled, and cheerfully bustled over. "Hogwarts dear?" Kate nodded, and the lady ushered her towards the back of the shop.

The fitting room was a half-moon of mirrors, foot stools and pin cushions. Kate stepped up onto a stool and the witch pulled a long black robe over her head and began to pin it into the right length. A shiver of excitement ran through her. This was really happening! Magic, real magic, was real and happening to her! WOO!

They paid for the robes and headed towards Flourish and Blotts. Kate strolled confidently through the shop, playing find-the-book until they had the complete collection. She added a copy of Hogwarts: A History to her pile and almost got away with sneaking in Moste Potent Potions before Professor Sprout noticed and gently but firmly persuaded her parents not to buy it. Apparently it was "too advanced" for her just yet.

"Are there any books about the history of the magical world?" Kate asked, when they approached the counter to pay. The attendant got up from his seat and came back with a copy of Modern Magical History, which they bought as well.

Pleased, Kate scampered happily down the street, drinking in the sights and peering longingly at the broomsticks which were hung outside Quality Quidditch Supplies. "Am I really not allowed my own broomstick yet?" she wheedled. Professor Sprout shook her head apologetically and steered her towards a shabby store with one wand sitting alone in the window.

The shop was silent and looked like the inside of an enormous archive. Row upon row of wooden boxes sat in neat little piles on sets of wooden shelves. There was a single chair tucked away behind the door for customers to perch on, and there didn't seem to be any staff around.

"Good afternoon"

Everybody jumped except for Professor Sprout. The elderly gentleman had appeared out of nowhere; he was wearing plain robes of rich velvet, and his wispy white hair stuck up from his head in several directions.

"Got a first year here for her wand Mr Ollivander" Professor Sprout beamed, proudly. Ollivander crooked a finger and Kate stepped forward. He pulled a long measuring tape with silver markings from within a pocket and hesitated expectantly. "Which is your wand arm?" Kate, thinking, held out her right arm, and Ollivander started taking measurements.

He drifted off towards the shelves, muttering to himself, as the measuring tape continued on without him. "That will do" he said, returning from his walk. The measuring tape dropped to the floor and he presented a box to Kate. "Try this please; a lovely ash with unicorn hair; Nine and a half inches. Just give it a wave."

Kate did as she was told but after half a minute Ollivander took the wand back off her. "No, no, that will not do I'm afraid. Wait here please." He wandered back down the aisles and came back with another box. Kate tried another wand, then another, and another; she was beginning to get worried, thinking that she was never going to find a wand that was suitable. She couldn't go to Hogwarts without a wand!

Ollivander scurried back from the bowels of the shop, holding yet another box. "Spruce with unicorn hair. Ten and three fourths; quite bendy. Impressive, in the right hands. We shall see won't we, hmm?" He handed over the wand and stepped back. Kate swallowed her growing doubts, gripped the handle lightly, and flicked.

Bubbles erupted from the tip of the wand, accompanied by a shower of sparkling glitters. She squealed with delight, jumping up and down as her parents gasped and Professor Sprout started applauding. "Well done! Yes, well done indeed!" Kate reluctantly handed the wand back and Ollivander packed it away gently in its box. As her parents paid, Kate peppered Ollivander with questions about wand care and the different types of wands available.

After Ollivander bowed them out of his shop, Kate pulled the wand from its case, looked it over, and slipped it into her pocket. It stuck out a little, so she pulled her jacket closer to her to hide it. "Is it possible to do magic without a wand?" she queried. Professor Sprout nodded. "Yes, it is possible, however it is extremely difficult to do so. Hogwarts teaches its student to perform wordless magic, but only after your third year."

They ambled along to Eeylops Owl Emporium just as a dark-haired boy walked out clutching a snowy owl in a cage. Kate froze, blinking, her jaw dropping.

"HARRY?!"

She sprinted forward and flung herself around Harry, who only just managed to put the cage down in time. He hugged her back, beaming.

"YOU'RE-A-WIZARD-HOW-ARE-YOU-WHERE-ARE-YOUR-GLASSESS?"

She stepped back a little but kept a hand on either shoulder. Harry was fatter-looking than he had been, his long, lanky frame thicker, less anaemic. His scruffy hair had been professionally cut and his clothes were a little worn but looked relatively new. He wasn't wearing his glasses but he didn't seem to be having any trouble seeing.

"Yeah" Harry grinned, and looked over his shoulder at a couple who had just appeared behind him. "Mum and Dad paid for eye surgery. I don't need glasses anymore." Kate leaned around him and gave the couple a once-over. The man was blonde, curly-haired and of average height. He was wearing a red sweater and holding a fistful of shopping bags.

His wife was tall and elegantly-dressed, with thin black hair cut into a bob. She beamed nervously, blushing, at Kate. Kate squinted, pursed her lips, and nodded. "I approve." The couple relaxed with small sighs of relief. Harry grinned.

"Adam Jones" Harry's foster father shook Kate's hand, smiling. "And this is Maggie, my wife."

"Hello" She shook Kate's hand as well. "Are they treating you well?" Harry nodded. "I've got my own room now. They're alright." Adam chuckled and ruffled Harry's hair.

A shadow passed over them and Kate looked up into an enormous, ruddy face.

" 'Allo there!"

"Hagrid! Wonderful to see you" exclaimed Professor Sprout. "Helping young Harry buy his supplies, I see" Hagrid drew himself up proudly, beaming. "Dumbledore asked me himself. Great man, that Dumbledore. An' what are you buyin' today eh?" Hagrid asked, turning back to Kate. "I bought Harry his birthday present" he gestured at the owl by Harry's feet, "Owls are helpful fer carryin' messages and the like. Smart creatures, owls."

Kate bent down; the owl blinked at her austerely, and cocked its head to the side. "Hello! My name's Kate." Harry knelt down beside her and stuck a finger between the bars of the cage. The owl shuffled forward and pushed its beak against it, chittering quietly. "What are you going to call it?" Harry shrugged. "I've no idea. She's a girl, by the way."

"Come along children, onwards and upwards!" Professor Sprout stepped aside as the children entered the shop. The smell of urine and dropping filled the musty air, and Kate was slightly overwhelmed by the amount of eyes staring back at her from along the walls.

Kate wandered slowly around the room. Owls, cats and toads of every size and colour stood beside hissing snakes and several giant tortoises with bright, bejewelled shells. Kate cooed over a tiny baby tortoise with small aquamarine crystals set into its back, but reluctantly decided against it.

"No you don't!" She jumped, startled, as a small black lump came hurtling across the floor and scuttled, hissing, up her leg. The harried-looking witch who had rushed out from behind the counter began to splutter profuse apologies but Kate was barely listening.

The small black kitten hissed at the approaching woman, its mismatched eyes filled with hatred. Kate reached down and carefully peeled it off her trouser leg. It mewled pitifully at her and scraped a rough tongue against the tip of her nose. "I'm going to call you Smudge."

They paid for the kitten and spent the train ride home together, swapping stories and addresses along the way. Harry invited her up to his house in Gloucester, and Kate promised to do so as soon as possible. Their respective familiars were getting on like a house on fire; Smudge, mewling and prodding, had stared with great curiosity at Harry's owl. The owl had hooted back at him, amused and interested by the small fluffy ball. Eventually Smudge clambered up onto the top of the cage and they both drifted off to sleep.