Disclaimer: I make no claim to the rights of any characters that are owned by J.K. Rowling or Warner Bros., and make no money from this venture. This work is purely for entertainment purposes.
— CHAPTER THREE —
The New World
The remaining days of the two weeks before his birthday were some of the best days of Harry's life, not that he had that much to compare it to. Harry's life had changed for the better ever since his aunt and uncle's revelations. Well, parts of it did. He and Dudley weren't just civil to each other, but they were actually spending a lot of time together and becoming rather close. It had been slightly unnerving at first but Harry eventually got used to it. Dudley had even told Harry that he was going to try and change, starting with his attitude towards school. He told Harry that he had never really liked school, but he was beginning to see that it might be more important than he knew. He also claimed that because his parents always praised his work, he never felt the need to do any better than he already did.
This was surprising to Harry as he didn't really think Dudley was capable of change of such magnitude, but he was perfectly happy for Dudley to prove him wrong. After so many years of hatred it was a welcome change to see Dudley actually trying to be nice to him, and anything that would further that was more than welcome.
Harry had always known Dudley to be surrounded by a large group of friends at school. His gang, such as it was, was well known throughout the school as the group you shouldn't cross. Their primary target was always Harry Potter. Dudley, being the largest and stupidest, was the leader of this gang so he orchestrated pretty much everything that they did. At least as much as his small brain could, but now that he was beginning to change he was beginning to see many things differently.
"Harry, I've been doing some thinking," Dudley said three days before Harry's birthday. The two were in Dudley's room, as they had often been recently.
"Whoa, Dudley. Slow down. You don't want the world to collapse do you?" Harry joked before they both laughed.
"Seriously though, Harry. I've been thinking about my friends," Harry had groaned at the thought of them. In particular Piers Polkiss who used to hold Harry while Dudley pummelled into him. Dudley noticed the groan and continued. "I know, Harry, and I'm sorry. Anyway, I was thinking and I realised, I don't really know any of them. Kind of like I didn't know you before you found out you were a wizard. And since then I know more about you than I do about all of my friends combined. I've been friends with you for close to, what, two weeks and friends with them for over 5 years. Why do you think that is Harry? I mean, shouldn't all my friendships be like this?" Harry shrugged sadly.
"I dunno Dudley. I mean, you and them pretty much made sure I didn't have any friends at school," Dudley bowed his head and Harry continued. "I don't really care anymore. At least not as much as I used to," Harry leaned back and laid his head on the wall. "I don't know. Maybe you aren't friends with them for the right reasons."
Dudley looked thoughtful for a while. After he thought about it he sighed and said. "You're right. I'm only friends with Piers and all them 'cause I wanted someone to back me up and, to be honest, they're as scared of me as the kids we push around are. But what should I do?"
Harry rubbed the back of his neck while he thought.
"Make new friends, I guess," he said, feeling uncomfortable with the conversation. Talking to Dudley about his friends had always been a recipe for disaster in the past. "You're going to a different school this year so it shouldn't be too hard. Just make friends with someone not like Piers or the rest of those gits you normally hang around with." Dudley sighed.
"I know you're right, Harry," he said, slightly pained. "It'll just be hard that's all. Haven't had to make new friends in ages."
That discussion really changed Harry's opinion on Dudley. It was good to find out that, at least in some ways, Dudley was insecure just the same as he was. It was a relief in an odd way.
He had 'the dream' again the night before his birthday. It was the first time he had had the dream since learning about his wizarding abilities. The strange thing about it this time was that it was somewhat clearer. Not a great deal clearer, but enough so that certain aspects of the dream were easier to make out. The old man's nose and eyes were now visible. His nose was very crooked and looked as if it had been broken one too many times. His eyes however were a brilliant blue and sparkled like stars. The look in the old man's eyes was somewhat calming. It was a look that almost said, "everything will be okay."
This time, when he walked away Harry could see two other people there with the old man. He was able to make one out to be a woman wearing a very floppy, and pointed hat and a dark green robe, or something vaguely similar. The other person was a giant of a man standing next to a motorcycle. Harry could distinctly make out a long, black beard and dark matted, uncombed hair. This time instead of hearing the motorcycle go away, he saw it fly away. Fly away.
Then came the familiar green light and high pitched laughter before he awoke with a start reaching for his glasses with one hand and his lightning bolt scar with the other. Maybe when I get to Hogwarts someone can do something about this, he thought miserably, not really getting his hopes up.
Then another thought popped into his head. July 31st! For the first time in his life, Harry was actually happy about his birthday. He sat up and began to quickly get dressed and ready for the day. He even managed to nearly put a shirt on instead of pants. He bolted out of the cupboard, which no longer remained locked at any time, though Harry didn't know why, and then walked as calmly as he could towards the kitchen. Dudley was up and helping his mother make breakfast, which Harry had never seen happen before in his life. To say Harry was stunned would be an understatement.
"Morning Harry! Happy Birthday!" Dudley said excitedly, "Look! I'm cooking you breakfast!" Harry heard Aunt Petunia groan but she continued to work, obviously being coerced into helping her son. Harry had long since given up on his aunt and uncle when it came to anything to do with him at all. Uncle Vernon was sitting in his chair, reading the paper at the table which Dudley motioned for Harry to sit down at.Another first, Harry thought incredulously.
Dudley was a surprisingly good cook, even if Aunt Petunia did help. When they had both finished, Dudley even offered Harry seconds which he readily accepted and, upon receiving them, wolfed them down as if he had never eaten anything before in his life. Never before had he ever eaten seconds at the Dursley household's table. Sometimes he might be able to sneak some, but never had he been offered any.
Following breakfast Harry and Dudley raced up to Dudley's room to talk about the day's activities to come. They talked for nearly two hours before the doorbell rang and they both stared at each other grinning widely. They wordlessly got up and ran down to the living room where Petunia gave Harry a dirty, hate-filled look before opening to door to greet their visitor.
Harry was slightly disappointed because the man looked, well, normal. He looked to be in his thirties, was reasonably tall and had short dark hair but had a bald spot on the back of his head which Harry saw while he turned to greet Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia. He was wearing a dark black jacket and jeans with white sneakers. Harry thought he wasn't the right guy until the man looked towards Harry and looked straight towards his forehead. He must have seen my scar, Harry thought. But why would he know about that?
"Yep, you are the right one then," the man said to a very confused Harry. "My name is Quirinus Quirrell. I teach at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I used to teach the subject of Muggle Studies but, as of this year, I will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts. Not that you need it, eh, Mr Potter?" The man looked at Harry with a smile when he said that but Harry still looked quizzical. The man seemed to notice but he brushed it off. "Mr Potter, you will have to refer to all of your teachers at Hogwarts as Professor. So you will have to call me Professor Quirrell while we are out and about today as well."
"Okay. I will. Um … Professor Quirrell, a lot of what you just said at first went right over my head," Harry admitted to the wizard standing in front of him.
"I expect nothing less, Mr Potter. You were raised by Muggles after all. I can't expect you to know too much about our world," Aunt Petunia huffed but when Professor Quirrell looked at her she looked away and grabbed Uncle Vernon's arm a little too quickly. Harry cocked his head at them slightly before looking back to Professor Quirrell.
"Uh, Professor? Muggles?" Harry looked up at the professor who kept his face surprisingly still.
"'Muggle' is a term we use for people with no magical abilities at all. Like your aunt and uncle and, I am assuming based on the family, your cousin," Professor Quirrell answered in an unemotional tone which Harry only then realised he had used during the whole conversation. Dudley then piped up.
"Can you show us some magic Professor?" he asked eagerly before Harry nudged him in the ribs as if to say 'don't say that!'.
"Ah, don't worry Mr Potter. Yes, normally it is the student asking the question but it really doesn't matter who asks. It is always, inevitably, asked," Professor Quirrell said, with the slightest hint of amusement in his voice. "Of course I can ... I'm sorry I don't know your name."
"Dudley," he said very quickly.
Professor Quirrell pulled out a feather from the inside of his jacket pocket and gave it to Dudley. He saw the looks on Dudley's parents' faces and said, "Don't worry. The spell I am going to be casting can be toned down so it doesn't hurt him at all." They still looked terrified as Dudley held the feather in his right hand while Professor Quirrell pointed his wand at Dudley and said, "Expelliarmus."
The feather flew out of Dudley's hand and into Professor Quirrell's. Aunt Petunia shrieked when she saw the red light hurtle towards her son and Harry thought he heard Uncle Vernon yelp like a dog. Harry was hardly paying attention because he felt as if he knew that particular spell. How could I? He asked himself.
Dudley was clapping with a wide grin on his face. His parents looked relieved yet still very anxious and angry.
"What else can you do?" Dudley asked quickly.
He pointed his wand next at the sofa next to him and did a slight hand movement and said, "Wingardium Leviosa." The sofa jerked slightly and then it left the floor, rising towards the roof. Aunt Petunia let out a loud gasp and put her hands around her mouth until Professor Quirrell returned the sofa to where he had found it exactly as it was. Dudley had gone into full blown applause. Harry was blown away. Someone had just made a sofa fly. Professor Quirrell then reached into his jacket again but this time pulled out a letter and turned to Harry.
"Here you go. This is what you really need to see. Read it aloud so your relatives can hear it as well," Professor Quirrell said, while Harry felt a strange elation at being able to speak the words forbidden by his aunt and uncle.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
There were a lot of things in there that Harry did not understand at all.What's a Mugwump? We await your owl? Harry could tell there was going to be a lot about the wizarding world that he did not know. He gave that letter to Dudley to read as he read the second page.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Uniform
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags
Set Books
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
Other Equipment
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
The first thing that came to Harry's mind he also said aloud.
"There are actually broomsticks that fly?"
Professor Quirrell laughed a hollow laugh at that and Dudley looked at him with his mouth open.
"Of course there are, Mr Potter. How do you expect they play Quidditch?" Harry frowned wondering what Quidditch was. "Don't worry, Mr Potter, I am fully aware that you don't know what Quidditch is. I was simply making a joke at your expense. Although if you are anything like your father was you will definitely grow to love Quidditch," Quirrell said with a thoughtful look on his face.
Harry reread that part of the letter before giving it to Dudley to read who read it with an incredulous look on his face the whole time. When Dudley returned the letter, Professor Quirrell looked at Harry expectantly.
"Well then, are you prepared to leave? We don't really have too much time. At least it won't take long to get where we are going, however," he said.
"Exactly where are we going sir?" Harry asked Professor Quirrell politely.
"Diagon Alley," Professor Quirrell said simply as if that was a good enough answer.
"Oh. Okay," Harry said meekly, turning to Dudley. "Well, I guess I'll see you when I get back then. You can go through my stuff with me." Dudley looked very excited at that. So much so that he looked as if he could burst. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia however were pouting angrily and had been since their sofa floated to the roof of their house.
"Now, we can very easily Apparate from here to Diagon Alley but I know you haven't had any experience with either Apparition or Flooing before," Professor Quirrell was thinking aloud while Harry tried to work out even half of what he had just said. "No, Apparition is much safer because Flooing could lead you anywhere if you get it wrong, and Muggle-raised students usually get it wrong the first time." He turned to face the Dursleys. "This can be rather loud, especially when it involves two people so if I were you I would block your ears. Grab my arm Mr Potter." Harry didn't know what was going on but reluctantly grabbed Professor Quirrell's arm just below the elbow. "Be prepared. The first time can be rather … disorientating."
Professor Quirrell then spun on the spot and as soon as he did so, Harry saw the Dursley's home disappear. He felt as if he was being sucked up a tube and a world of colour surrounded him before his feet seemed to hit solid ground again. He felt a queasiness in his stomach but he had felt a lot worse before. He quickly gathered his bearings and the room stopped spinning.
"Normally on their first time people don't land well like that and are usually throwing up as well. It's almost like you have done it before," Professor Quirrell said suspiciously. It was at this point that Harry looked around and saw where he was. It looked amazing. There were shops everywhere and people wandering around with robes of all colours on carrying a large variety of objects that Harry couldn't even describe.
"This, Mr Potter, is Diagon Alley. It is here that the majority of the Wizarding population of England flock to get their supplies for either school or everyday life," Professor Quirrell said, his words making the place even more amazing than it already seemed in Harry's head. "It has been around for a very long time, and is one of the only places in Britain that people in our world can go about their own business without fear of being discovered by Muggles."
There were colours everywhere and people seemed to like everyone they met. He saw quite a few shops as he glanced around. He made sure to read their names. Eeylops Owl Emporium, Flourish and Blotts,Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions and, what was instantly his favourite, Ollivander's Wand Shop. He couldn't wait to go and have a look in all of them.
"First off we need to get you some money. We will need to go to Gringotts Wizarding Bank to do that," Professor Quirrell said, grabbing Harry's shoulder and moving him in the right direction.
"But Professor, I don't have any money at all and I didn't even know I was a wizard until two weeks ago. How will going to a bank help?" Harry asked sadly, looking down at his old tattered shoes.
"Before your parents died they set up a trust fund for you to use over the course of your seven years at Hogwarts if anything should happen to them before you turned eleven. I am led to believe that there is a sizable amount of money in there for your own use over the course of the next seven years, even outside of school," Professor Quirrell said with a slight smile as a very large beautifully white building came into Harry's view. Harry could read the golden writing near the top of the building. Gringotts. Harry's pulse quickened even more than when he first saw Diagon Alley. This building held the first link Harry ever had with his mother and father other than Aunt Petunia, who he didn't really count.
As he walked through the huge brown doors there was another set of doors with a golden plaque on it which read:
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.
"Whats that about?" Harry asked with a confused look on his face.
"It is basically saying 'rob us and die'. Some say there are actually dragons down there protecting the higher profile vaults," Professor Quirrell replied almost offhandedly. "I'm not sure if it's true or not. More than likely it was a ruse conjured by the more wealthy families to further protect their assets."
"Dragons?" Harry asked incredulously. "Dragons actually exist?"
"Oh my, yes," Professor Quirrell said with a strangely nervous look on his face. "I ran into a Welsh Green while roaming the country during some time off years ago. That was not fun at all. I barely got away. I still have a scar on my left shoulder where it got me."
Harry shuddered and kept walking. When he got through that set of doors he found himself in a very large room full of papers and desks with something sitting at each of them. They were brown-skinned and very short. They all seemed to have thinning grey hair and long pointy ears. He heard Professor Quirrell beside him huff at the sight of them.
"Goblins," he spat. "Foul creatures. Very smart, shrewd and economically minded and the only things you can trust with your money but still, absolutely foul. Never mess with a goblin if you can avoid it. They'll stab you in the back just as easily as look at you."
They continued walking through the large hall and Harry marvelled at the creatures working there. They all seemed to work very quickly, even though Harry was certain he would not understand one bit of what they were doing. It was only when they reached the end of the room that Harry looked away from the workers and at the Goblin at the head desk.
"We are here to make a withdrawal from Mr Harry Potter's vault." Professor Quirrell told the Goblin in a very formal voice. The goblin slowly looked towards Harry and spoke in a surprisingly low voice.
"Do you have your key Mr Harry Potter?" The Goblin asked Harry while staring deep into Harry's emerald green eyes.
"I have it," Professor Quirrell announced, pulling a small golden key out of his jacket pocket and handing it over to the Goblin, who looked it over for a moment.
"Griphook is the manager of Vault 687 and will take you there." The Goblin gave the key to another Goblin, who Harry assumed was the one he called Griphook.
"This way please," the one called Griphook said in a higher pitched voice than the other, but still sounding slightly gruff, as he led them towards a large door. When Griphook opened the door all Harry could see was darkness. And then, as Griphook stepped through, the place lit up and Harry was able to see a rather large cart. He began to wonder to himself exactly what the cart was there for. It reminded him of what Dudley had told him a rollercoaster was like. He didn't have to wonder for too long as Griphook stepped in and said to Professor Quirrell and Harry, "Get in."
When Harry stepped into the cart, he saw Griphook sitting next to a lever of sorts and wondered what it was for and why in the world they were in a cart. When Professor Quirrell finally sat, Griphook pulled the lever and the cart sped off so quickly that it was a wonder it could stay on the rails. The cart was faster than anything Harry had ever seen or felt. There were so many twists and turns and drops that Harry did not anticipate in the slightest. There was not much to be seen as the scenery whizzed by too fast, though Harry could have sworn he saw flames in the distance in front of them at one point. A dragon? Harry wondered amazedly. After perhaps five minutes the cart abruptly stopped. Harry thought that the whole experience had been amazingly fun.
Griphook stepped out of the cart followed by Harry and a very nauseated looking Professor Quirrell. It appeared that he had the opposite experience to the one Harry had had. When he set foot outside of the cart Harry suddenly felt extremely cold. He vaguely wondered how far down the cart had taken them, realising that for most of the trip they had been going steadily downwards. Griphook found the keyhole on a large black door that Harry hadn't seen until it started to swing open and gold blinded him for a second. So much gold. And silver. And bronze. Harry had no idea what the coins in front of him were, but he didn't need to know in order to realise what a big deal it all was.
Harry looked up to Professor Quirrell who had an amazed look on his face but then saw Harry and his expression swiftly changed back to emotionless.
"Right. You don't know Wizarding currency. The gold ones are known as Galleons, the silver ones are Sickles and the Bronze ones are called Knuts, with a 'k'. 17 Sickles to a Galleon. 29 Knuts to a Sickle. You seem to have quite a bit here. You will have to take a fair amount out but I noticed that you don't have anything to hold that money in. Which is why I have a gift for you," Professor Quirrell said, rummaging around in his robes for something before finally pulling out some kind of bag. "The Gamekeeper at Hogwarts, Rubeus Hagrid, asked me to give this to you. He knew your parents well and gave me a pouch to give to you, on which I have performed an undetectable extension charm and another charm which makes the pouch basically weightless even if it is full. Fill it up if you want. There is no limit to the money you can take from your own vault." Professor Quirrell said this dismissively but Harry wondered whether that was entirely true. Surely they would not allow him to remove as much as he wanted?
Professor Quirrell handed Harry the pouch which looked no bigger than two of Professor Quirrell's fists put together. Harry began to pile large amounts of money into it and it did actually seem to be endless. When they finally left the vault Griphook gave a report on the withdrawal which ended up as 200 Galleons, 400 sickles and 300 knuts. After quick calculation Professor Quirrell told Harry that that would be about £1146 which was far and above anything Harry had ever had before. Harry, once again, felt shocked, but he was also very aware that there would likely be more shocks before the day was finished.
The trip back was worse than the trip to the vault because this time they had to go upwards and that was more frightening to Harry and, evidently, Professor Quirrell who seemed to look even worse than he did when he left the cart earlier. Despite this Harry was the happiest he had ever felt and, as he left Gringotts and looked out once again at the beautiful Diagon Alley, he felt a strange sense of calm wash over him. As if he was where he was meant to be.