"All students must be equipped with... One standard size two pewter cauldron, one wand, one telescope, one set of glass or crystal... crystal... Hagrid, what is P-H-I-A-L-S?"

"Phials, I believe. What else, Harriet?" Hagrid asked, as they walked the streets of London.

People parted to make way for Hagrid and gave him plenty of stares, as he was rather large and hairy, and a bit frightening at first glance. But they had no problem plowing into Harriet, who was already rather exhausted, having only got a little nap on the bus, she had lagged behind so much that finally Hagrid picked her up and placed her on his large shoulders.

"And one set of brass scales. Students may also bring, if they desire, either an owl, a cat, or a toad." Harriet frowned at the paper. "Can we find all this in London?" She asked.

Hagrid smiled. "If yeh know where tah look."

They headed down a few more streets before coming to a corner store, which had a sign over head that read, "The Leaky Cauldron"

Was this where they got the cauldrons? Harriet wondered.

As Hagrid pulled Harriet off his shoulders and placed her on the ground with a stomach clenching swoop, she got the most peculiar feeling that they were the only ones who could see the shop.

Before she could mention it, Hagrid had already walked in.

The inside was very dark and grimy, and full of smoke and people sitting at tables, eating and drinking. It was a pub not a place to buy cauldrons then.

"Ah Hagrid! The usual?" A voice asked.

"Can't Tom." Hagrid said, placing a hand on Harriet's shoulder. "I'm on Hogwarts business. Just taking young Harriet here shopping fer her school supplies."

There was quiet all around, a lady in the corner had dropped her pipe and one man turned around so fast his hat spun on his head.

"Bless my soul." Tom, the barman, whispered. "It's Harriet Potter."

There was a cacophony of noise as chairs were pushed back and people rushed towards her.

"Welcome back, Ms. Potter, welcome back!" One man said, shaking her hand.

"Doris Crockford." The witch who dropped her pipe said, shaking Harriet's other hand. "I can't believe I get to meet you at last."

It seemed like every single person in the pub wanted to shake Harriet's hand, including a middle aged man, with green robes, hazel eyes, and graying brown hair.

"I know you!" Harriet exclaimed. "You bowed to me at the super market a few weeks ago!" Indeed it was the same man. Aunt Petunia had been ruffled when she asked Harriet who the man was, of course Harriet hadn't a clue, then Petunia rushed them out without buying a single thing.

The man almost exploded with delight at being recognized. "Bless her soul! Bless her soul! She remembers me! Did you hear that! Dedalus Diggle, Ms. Potter!"

Harriet shook hands some more, with Doris Crockford and Dedalus Diggle coming back many times.

Finally, a pale looking young man walked up to her, looking very nervous and twitchy. The most particular thing about him was the purple turban around his head.

"M-m-ms. P-p-potter." He stuttered out, grasping her hand. "C-c-can't t-tell you how p-p-pleased I am to meet you."

"Hello professor!" Hagrid said, politely. "Harriet this is Professor Quirrell. He'll be yer Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."

Professor Quirrell gave a small shudder. "F-fearfully fascinating subject." He said, acting like he didn't care for the thought of it. He gave her a shaky smile. "N-not that you n-need it. E-eh Potter?"

Harriet didn't quite know what he meant by that, but then next thing she knew, Hagrid was clearing his throat in a warning sort of way. "Well, best be off. Lots tah buy! Heh."

"Good bye." Harriet said politely, shaking one more round of hands as Hagrid lead her out.

"See that Harriet, yer famous!" Hagrid said, leading her out the back and into a back alley, that held nothing more than a few dustbins that leaned against the brick wall opposite to the pub.

"But why am I famous Hagrid?" Harriet asked.

Hagrid suddenly looked uncomfortable. "I'm not quite sure I'm the right one tah tell yeh, Harriet." He reached out and tapped his pink umbrella against a brick.

Harriet was about to ask why he did it, when the brick quivered and wiggle and then a small hole disappeared. That hole eventually grew bigger until it was wide enough for even Hagrid.

"Wow!" Harriet cried. The cobbled street was lined with stores, and filled with people carrying the strangest things.

"Welcome, Harriet, to Diagon Alley!" Hagrid said.

As they moved through the streets, Harriet was in a daze, spinning around to look at things so much and so fast that she made herself dizzy and had to keep a hold of Hagrid's coat so she didn't get lost. There were cauldron shops, candy shops, robe emporiums, green houses, and apothecary's.

They past the owlery and Harriet squealed at the sight of a beautiful snowy owl.

"Hagrid." Harriet said, a sudden thought occurring to her. "How am I to pay for all this? I haven't any money."

"O' course yeh do. It's in Gringott's." Hagrid said, then looked at Harriet's confused face. "Wizard bank. Not a safer place 'cept maybe Hogwarts."

They walked into the bank and Hagrid led her down a tiny aisle, passing tiny, lumpy looking creatures as they went.

"What are those?" Harriet asked, as one of the lumpy things glared at her.

"They're goblins." Hagrid said, even he looked unsettled. "Clever as they come, but not altogether friendly. Best stick close."

Harriet grabbed Hagrid's sleeve with both hands and hid as much of herself as she could behind his arm.

They approached a goblin at a desk and Hagrid cleared his throat.

"Ms. Harriet Potter wishes tah make a withdrawal."

Harriet peeked around to look, and found the goblin squinting at her in a way that made her uneasy.

"And does Ms. Harriet Potter have her key?" The goblin asked?

Harriet panicked for a moment. She didn't have a key.

"Wait a minute. Got it right here." Hagrid said, digging into his pocket and showing the goblin a silver key. "There's the little devil." He said, then leaned in closer. "Also, I've got a letter from Dumbledore." He pulled out a letter wrapped with twine. "It's about yeh-know-what in vault yeh-know-which."

The goblin nodded slowly. "Very well."

Harriet tried to ask Hagrid what the you-know-what was as they hurtled through the tunnels on a cart but Hagrid shushed her. "No questions. I think I'm going tah be sick." He did indeed look very green. Finally the cart stopped at a small door.

"Vault 687. Key please." The goblin, Griphook, said, taking the key from Hagrid and putting it in the keyhole.

The door was pulled opened and Harriet gasped. It was full of shiny coins. Mounds of gold coins, piles of silver coins, and stacks of bronze coins. "This can't possibly be all mine." Harriet squeaked.

Hagrid chuckled. "Yeh didn't think yer parents left yeh with nothing, did yeh?"

The Dursley's don't know about this. Harriet decided as Hagrid helped her fill a back with the gold coins, Galleons, silver coins, Sickles, and the bronze coins, Knuts. If the Dursley's had known about this vault full of gold and silver and bronze, it would have been cleared out in a week's time.

"Now Harriet, there's seventeen Sickles tah a galleon and twenty-nine Knuts tah a Sickle. That's easy enough isn't it? Right. This should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe fer yeh."

Harriet watched Griphook close up the vault, then climbed back into the cart, and they zoomed down until coming to a halt at vault 713.

"What's in there, Hagrid?" Harriet asked, trying to peek around the giant. It looked like a small package that Hagrid swiftly scooped up and tucked in his pocket.

"Best yeh don't know. And best yeh don't mention this tah anyone." Hagrid gave her a gruff look and Harriet nodded.


"I still need... A wand." Harriet said, as they walked down the street, carrying bundles.

"Well, yeh'd be best off in Ollivander's." Hagrid said, motioning to a small shop. "Now yeh run on in, I got something I need tah do first. Wait fer me here alright?"

Harriet nodded, and he took her bundle and set off in another direction.

She walked inside the small store, and was hit with a dusty, musty smell, similar to the smell that came out of the cedar chest of Aunt Petunia's that sat up in the attic. There were stacks and stacks of small boxes that no doubt contained wands. But there was nobody in sight, not even at the cluttered desk.

"Hello?" Harriet called.

There was a thunk as a ladder rolled along a track and stopped near the desk. An old and gruff looking man was perched on the ladder. He gave her a wistful smile. "I was wondering when I'd be seeing you, Ms. Potter."

Harriet was startled. Did he know her?

The man climbed down. "It seems like only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their very first wands, just like you are know." The man, undoubtedly Mr. Ollivander, eyed her. "Which is your wand arm?" He asked.

Harriet blinked for a moment. "Oh, uh, I'm right handed."

Mr. Ollivander nodded, and selected a box from the shelf. "I think, perhaps this one. Yes, yes. Give it a wave." He said, when he handed it to her.

She frowned and gave the wand a gentle swish. And the shelves from a book case flew across the room and clattered against the wall, the books went crashing to the floor. Harriet dropped the wand on the counter, and looked at Mr. Ollivander, expecting him to be mad. But he didn't look mad, just amused.

"Apparently not." He shuffled through the aisles and selected another. "Perhaps this one, dear?" He said, handing it to her.

This wand was a bit longer than the last, and thicker. She waved it, and a vase exploded, she jumped in the air.

"No. No. Definitely not." He said, shaking his head, looking disappointed. "Let's try this again."

They went through several more wands, one causing Mr. Ollivander's tie to roll up and smack him in the face, then another sent papers whirling around, and another did absolutely nothing. And instead of getting frustrated, Mr. Ollivander got excited.

"Tough customer, hmm? No matter. There's never been a soul that's walked in that hasn't found a wand in my shop!" He then disappeared into the back, and rummaged around for some time.

Harriet heard him still and mutter to himself, then came out with a box and a suspicious look on his face.

He handed Harriet the wand, so delicately as if it were a dangerous weapon bound to go off.

The minute the wood touched Harriet's fingertips, a warmth spread through her entire body, and to her surprise red and gold sparks flew out of the tip of the wand.

"And we have a winner." Mr. Ollivander muttered. "Curious. Very curious."

Harriet blinked. "I'm sorry, but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander hesitated, then a wistful look shone in his eye. "I remember every wand I sold, Ms. Potter. It just so happens that the phoenix, whose tail feather resides in your wand gave one more feather. Just one. It is particularly curious that you should be chosen to wield this wand, when it's brother gave you that scar."

Harriet inhaled and her fingers found the thin jagged lightning bolt scar. "And who owned that wand?" She asked.

Mr. Ollivander drew back. "Oh we do not speak his name."

Harriet frowned and looked at her wand. What did he mean he couldn't speak his name?

"The wand chooses the wielder, Miss Potter." Mr. Ollivander said. "It's not always clear why, but what is clear is that we can expect great things from you. After all, he who must not be named did great things. Terrible." The man shuddered then leaned a bit closer. "But great."