A/N So, it's been, what? A year? Hello again! I know I probably said this a thousand times before, but now I promise to finish this up before the end of June (at the most)
Yeah, so, you know the drill. If you have anything to say, from "hey, you mispelled Remus's name ten times!" to...well, anything, just tell me.
skulblaka222: Hi! I'm back. And really, thanks for all the happy little replies/ inputs/stuffs. I'm glad that you like the last chapters, I hope to make these last...13 even better.
world peace: Hey, what's up? Here's hoping that you'll enjoy these chapters too!
DISCLAIMER: If I was J.K. Rowling, I wouldn't have to worry about a US History exam, or homework, or stuff like that,. So no, I do NOT own any of this.
James was not a scholar like Remus; reading was never a hobby of his. It took the same amount of focus and concentration that was usually reserved on the Quidditch field, however, it was easier to loose said focus and concentration while reading rather among the cheering fans. At least, James thought, I'm not like Sirius, who'll start yelling how he hears voices in his head. No, what James needed was some peace and quiet, a small cozy bubble free from the chaos of the Marauders.
Looking around, James realized this was just what he had. With Peter sleeping in his animagus form, (and thank Merlin for that! How Peter managed to snore loud enough to wake the entire Gryffindor tower and stay asleep befuddled James to no end.), and Sirius quiet mutterings turning into whispers; and Remus's staying upstairs, doing whatever he does upstairs, James had the perfect opportunity to at least read a few pages ahead.
CHAPTER FIVE DIAGON ALLEY
Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight.
"It was a dream," he told himself firmly. "I dreamed a giant called Hagridcame to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my cupboard."
There was suddenly a loud tapping noise.
"And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door," Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still hadn't opened his eyes. It had been such a good dream.
Tap-Tap-Tap!
"Tappitty-tap-tap!" Said a voice from right behind James's head.
"Sirius." James groaned. So much for getting a few pages ahead. "What are you doing?"
"What, did I scare you?"
"What, did you just not answer my question?"
"I'm commenting. Keep reading."
"Alright," James said, smirking. After all, Sirius didn't say to read out loud.
"All right," Harry mumbled, "I'm getting up."
He sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed
"You aren't funny, you know." Sirius said, grabbing the book. "I asked you to read."
"I am reading." James smirked at Sirius, who was trying his best to glare (which was a .001 on the official Marauder glare-o-meter). "You know, you would look scarier if you weren't smiling."
He sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak. Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him.
"Um, and why, exactly, would having a balloon inside you make you happy?"
"It's a figure of speech, Pads" Said Remus as he came down the stairs, a book in his hand.
"Moony, I know this is hard for you, but shut up."
He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.
"Don't do that."
"Because that'll help loads." Sirius said sarcastically.
Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat.
"I am so good at predicting things." Sirius said.
"And the fact that you probably read ahead is just a coincidence" Remus said from the couch.
"Hagrid!" said Harry loudly. "There's an owl -"
"Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa.
"What?"
"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets."
"How does he know?"
"Know?" James asked
"About the owl, I mean, it could want to just, you know, eat Hagrid's jacket."
"Who would want to eat his jacket?" James asked
"The owl just brought the paper. Obviously, Hagridalways gets the paper from this owl, and he knows from experience that it'll want to be paid." Remus said, flipping the pages of a book that had a familiar black haired kid on the cover.
"Remus?" James asked.
"Mhh?"
"Don't tell me you're reading one of the other books."
"Well,"
"Moony," Sirius moaned. "We didn't even finish this one."
"So?" Remus asked, angrily.
"So we didn't finish this one yet."
"You've said that already."
Moony, why are you reading another book?" James asked.
"What, you don't want to see if Harry lives in the end?"
"You're reading the LAST BOOK?" Sirius shouted.
"Well, if it makes you feel better, he lives."
"Thanks Moony," Sirius groaned. "Now the whole story is ruined."
James just laughed at them as he continued to read.
Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets - bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, mint humbugs, teabags ... finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins. "Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily. "Knuts?"
"You know, nuts. The things you eat, like penuts and walnuts and hazelnuts..."
"Pads..."
"...and amlonds too. those don't say their nuts, though, their in denial."
"Padfoot, please, can you not talk anymore"
"And you know what I told them? I said that the first step to rehabilitation is to admit your crazy. Then I ate them. I was kinda hungry...What?" he said, looking around at Remus's face. "I know what your about to say. I'm not crazy. Really, I'm not."
"The little bronze ones."
Harry counted five little bronze coins and the owl held out its leg so Harry could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew out through the open window.
Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up and stretched.
"Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up terLondon an' buy all yer stuff fer school."
"Hey! School shopping. Isn't that like your Christmas, Moony?" Sirius asked.
"Ha, ha, ha… no."
Harry was turning over the wizard coins and looking at them. He had just thought of something which made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.
"Thank Merlin. That could have definitely led to some serious internal problems."
"Sirius, when are you going to get it through your head? It's a FIGURE of SPEECH."
"Whatever you say. I'm just glad that young Mini-prongs is not going to die from an attack of evil balloons."
"Well, you don't have to worry about that," said Remus. "I read some of the last book, and it said Harry lives."
"So?"
"So he's not going to die from balloon exposure."
"But did that book say that he wasn't attacked by balloons?"
"Um - Hagrid?"
"Mm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.
"I haven't got any money - and you heard Uncle Idiot last night
"It doesn't say that!" Remus said.
"Does it matter?" James asked, then continued on.
.... he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."
Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "D'ye think year parents didn't leave yeh anything?"
"But if their house was destroyed -"
"They didn't keep their gold in the house, boy!
"What about James's Piggy Bank? The one in the shape of a snitch!"
"Yeah, what about my Piggy Bank?"
"Prongs, I'm sure you either got rid of it, or it was destroyed with the house."
James sighed. "Well doesn't THAT just make my day." he said sarcastically.
Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold - an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither.
"Wizards have banks?"
Just the one. Gringotts.
"They still have just one?" Remus said, somewhat shocked.
"What's so wrong with just one bank?" James asked.
"Honestly, don't you two ever pay attention?" The look on the two boys faces were all the confirmation he needed. "Ok, long story short, there were problems with the banks in the 1930's. And when I say problems, I mean globally, international chaotic problems.
"Our kind of chaos or the bad kind?" Sirius asked.
"What do you think?"
"Oh, come on, Moony! You know I can't think."
Run by goblins."
Harry dropped the bit of sausage he was holding.
"Goblins?"
"Yeah - so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe - 'cept maybe Hogwarts.
"Bum, ba buuuuum!"
As a matter o' fact, gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you -
"Yeah, because babysitting some kid is real important."
"Um, Prongs, that's your kid."
"I know, Pads. He's MY son; he can take care of himself. Do you know why?"
"No, tell us." Remus said, rolling his eyes. James ignored him.
"Because he's made of win and fun, just like me. That's why."
gettin' things from Gringotts - knows he can trust me, see."
"Got everythin'? Come on, then."
Harry followed Hagrid out on to the rock. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.
"How did you get here?" Harry asked, looking around for another boat.
"Flew," said Hagrid.
"Flew?"
"Flew!" The boys repeated.
"Yeah - but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."
"So how do you fly with magic?" James asked. The other two boys just looked at him. "No, seriously…"
"Yes?" Answered Sirius. Remus sighed.
"No matter how much you may deny it, your middle name is NOT Lee, Pads." He said. "And Prongs, I thought you would have known."
"Known what?"
"Well, let me put it to you this way," Sirius said, pacing. "What is made of wood, flies, and is the objection to your obsession?"
"A broom?" James asked. Sirius nodded. "Good, because I thought you were going to say Lily."
"Lily doesn't know how to fly."
"And, surprisingly, she's not made of wood either."
Sirius gasped. "She isn't?"
"But wait a minute, Prongs." Remus said. "Wouldn't a broom be nearby if he flew on one?"
"Oh."
"The plot thickens," James said, turning the page.
"I don't think that a missing broom is considered a plot thickener." Remus said.
"Well, I didn't think that you would ever say plot thickener, but we're not always right, now are we?" Sirius interrupted.
They settled down in the boat, Harry still staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying.
"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving Harry another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter - er - speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"
"Come on Harry, be a rule breaker, make your old man proud."
"You know you just called yourself old, right?"
"Okay, make your young dad proud!"
"He's actually just five years younger…"
"What do you want me to say?"
"Um…whatever's on the page would be nice."
"Of course not," said Harry, eager to see more magic.
"Good boy."
"He's not a dog, Prongs."
Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat and they sped off towards land.
"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked.
"Spells - enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there are dragons guardin' the high security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way - Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."
Harry sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Harry had learned from Uncle Vernon that people like to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, he'd never had so many questions in his life.
"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page.
"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself.
"'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."
"But what does a Ministry of Magic do?"
"Well, their main job is to-
"Mess up completely, break promises, and elect stupid people."
"Prongs, that's not in the book."
"It should."
"That, and the fact that last time the Muggles knew about us, they wanted to burn us or hang us or drown us."
"Really? I thought the reason was because they're just so boring."
At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper and they clambered up the stone steps on to the street.
Passers-by stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. Harry couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Harry? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"
"Hagrid," said Harry panting a bit as he ran to keep up, "did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?"
"Pshh, no. It's against the law to have a dragon, the bank wouldn't do that."
"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."
"You'd like one?"
"But, Hagrid! The law, think of the law!"
"Moony, I don't think that he's going to care about what the law says. Remember how he took in a Augurey in our second year?"
"Augurey's are NOT illegal, Padfoot!"
"Oh, just get over it."
"Wanted one ever since I was a kid - here we go."
They had reached the station. There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand 'Muggle money', as he called it, gave the notes to Harry so he could buy their tickets.
People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent."Still got yer letter, Harry?" he asked as he counted stitches.
Harry took the parchment envelope out of his pocket.
"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list of everything yeh need."
Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn't noticed the night before and read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
"AKA: Moony's Christmas list."
Uniform
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat
"Rainbow colored required."
(black) for day wear 3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar) (rainbow colored perfered) 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) A History of Magic Magical Theory A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi Magical Drafts and Potions Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection
"Please note that, if you are going to do any damage to said books, do it in front of Madam Pince, in order to give her a well deserved heart attack."
"Pads, that's just wrong," James yelled.
"What? Remember that time when she gave us detention for two for talking?"
"No."
"Oh, well. Madam Pince gave us detention for talking."
"Actually, I think it was just you." Remus interrupted.
"Same difference."
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
"Wow, look at all this new stuff for Moony!"
"It's all the same thing, we've already have these things." Remus said. James grumbled. "What?"
"They still allow first years to bring a broom!"
"So?"
"So that means Harry can't have one!"
"So?" Sirius said.
"So that means that Harry's going to be more of a deprived child than ever before! And don't you dare say so again."
"And your point is?"
"Can we buy all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud.
"No, we just brought you here to see the pigeons."
"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.
Harry had never been to London before. Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not too used to getting there in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.
"Not the slow trains! Anything but the slow trains!"
"When are you going to shut up?"
"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said, as they climbed a broken-down escalator which led up to a bustling road lined with shops. Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all Harry had to do was keep close behind him. They passed book shops and music stores, hamburger bars and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath them? Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Might this not all be some huge joke that the Dursleys had cooked up?
"No, their way too stupid to do something as awesome as this."
If Harry hadn't known that the Dursleys had no sense of humor, he might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Hagrid had told him so far was unbelievable, Harry couldn't help trusting him.
"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place
It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have noticed it was there. "
That's the beauty of it! It's hidden in plain sight!"
"Not that it's magical, or anything"
"That's what I like to call a coincidence."
The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Hagrid could see it.
"And that's why it's called magic."
"No, that is why it's called hidden-in-plain-sight." Sirius said quickly.
Before he could mention this, Hagrid had steered him inside. For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old barman, who was quite bald and looked like a gummy walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid;
"Somebody's popular."
they waved and smiled at him, and the barman reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?" "Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Harry's shoulder and making Harry's knees buckle. "Good Lord," said the barman, peering at Harry, "is this - can this be -?"
"Someone a thousand times more amazing than you?" James asked. " Yup."
The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent. "Bless my soul," whispered the old barman. "Harry Potter ... what an honor." He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed towards Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes. "Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back." Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming. Then there was a great scraping of chairs and, next moment, Harry found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron. "Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last." "So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud." "Always wanted to shake your hand - I'm all of a flutter."
"I think Harry stole Hagrid's title for Most Popular of the Year."
"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you. Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."
"Deds! Shouted James. "Hey, kid! How've you been. Have any recent brainwaves on how to torture Slytherins?"
"Pads, you know he can't hear you, right?" Remus asked.
"Um, sure he can! He just doesn't want to answer back. You know, so I don't steal his ideas."
"I've seen you before!" said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."
"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!"
Harry shook hands again and again - Doris Crockford kept coming back for more."
A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.
"And since he was so twitchy" Sirius said, looking over James's shoulder, "They called him Quirrell. But no one knew why."
"Could it be because that's his name?" Moony asked, quietly.
"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."
P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."
"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"
"D-Defence Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" he laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.
But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harry to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble. "Must get on - lots ter buy. Come on, Harry."
Doris Crockford shook his hand one last time and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a dustbin and a few weeds.
Hagrid grinned at Harry.
"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh - mind you, he's usually tremblin'."
"Is he always that nervous?"
"Oh, yeah, poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some first-hand experience... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag - never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject
"So that's why he's such a twitchy fellow."
- now, where's me umbrella?"
Vampires? Hags? Harry's head was swimming.
"You might want to get that checked, it could be fatal."
Remus sighed. "Padfoot, say this after me. IT. IS. A. FIGURE. OF. SPEECH!"
"YOU. SMELL. LIKE. A. PEACH!" Sirius yelled back.
"It's hopeless, Moony." James said. "His inner child's a five year old, it can't be helped."
Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the dustbin. "Three up... two across..." he muttered. "Right, stand back, Harry." He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.
"I love Diagon Alley." Remus said. "So much stuff to buy, so little time."
"Pshh. You just like it because you read and get a heads start before school starts." James interrupted.
"I do not."
"Do too."
"Do not!"
"Do too!"
"Do NOT!"
"Do TOO!"
"Well, what about that Quidditch store, eh? Don't you like that?"
"Yes, but that's different."
"Is not."
"Is too.
"Is not!"
"Is too!"
"What are you yelling about?" Came a sleepy voice from across the room. Peter, who was sleeping in his animagus form, had transfigured back once he heard the commotion. "Don't tell my you've read without me!"
"Sorry Wormtail." Remus said. "You didn't miss much. Harry's just getting into Diagon Alley."
"And along the way, Harry's faced a yellow circus tent, ingested balloons, the Ministry of Magic, and a mob of fan girls."
"They were not fan girls, Sirius." James said.
"They acted like it." He said. "Oh, Harry Potter!" he said, mimicking the people in the Leaky Cauldron, except with a higher pitched voice. "I can't believe it's finally you. Oh my goshly goodness, you shook my hand! I will never wash this hand again!"
"So, yeah. You didn't miss much." James said, before reading.
"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."
Harry wished he had about eight more eyes. He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an apothecary's was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen sickles an ounce, they're mad..."
A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand - fastest ever -"
James?" Sirius asked. "Can you stop drooling? It's kind of gross."
"It's a broom! It's the fastest nimbus broom."
"We kind of got that, Prongs." Peter said.
"Harry must have it!" James shouted, jumping up.
"And how do propose we give it to him, hmm?" Remus asked, grabbing the book out James's hands.
"With stealth and determination!" James said, looking proud of himself.
"Yeah, I don't think that's going to do it, Prongsy old pal." Sirius said. "Moony, if you could do the honors."
There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon ...
"Gringotts," said Hagrid.
They had reached a snowy-white building which towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was -
"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps towards him.
The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry.
"Wow. Prongslet must be a midget or something, if the goblin's just a bit taller than him."
"Are you calling my son a midget?" James shouted.
"Are you changing his nickname?" Peter asked.
"Are you doing this on purpose, just to get Prongs angry?" Remus asked.
Sirius smiled. "Yes, yes, and of course." he said. "Pease continue, Moony."
He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Harry noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:
"Hey, Moony?" Peter asked. "Can you skip this? We all know it by heart."
"Sure."
For those who take, but do not earn,
"That's not what skipping is, Moony." Sirius said. Remus just ignored him.
Must pay most dearly in their turn. So if you seek beneath our floors
"No, seriously." James said.
"Yes?" asked Sirius innocently.
"Not you, I meant Moony!"
"But his name's not Seriously?"
"And neither is yours. You are SIRIUS. Spelled S.."
"W.H.I.C.H. space M.A.K.E.S. space A. space S.E.R.I.O.U.S space S.O.U.N.D." Sirius said.
"Wait, what?" Peter asked.
"I spelled what I was saying. Because James spelled my name."
A treasure that was never yours, Thief, you have been warned, beware Of finding more than treasure there.
"Yeah, there's caves and train tracks and little frogs." Peter said.
"Frogs?" The boys asked.
"Don't ask."
"I think we just did." James said.
"Well, pretend that you didn't."
"Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.
A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins on brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid and Harry made for the counter.
"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe."
"You have his key, sir?"
"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog-biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose.
"Good job, Hagrid. Gross the goblin out. That's just what he needs."
"Padfoot…" James warned.
"He's working all day; he deals with annoying customers and Muggles."
"How would he deal with Muggles? This is a wizard's bank!" Remus asked. "Key word: wizard's."
"And you know how Muggles are. They don't know what they're doing and they ask to go to the wrong safe and then they get eaten by dragons."
"I thought there were no dragons in Gringotts." Peter asked.
Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.
"Good job, Harry. Don't pay attention to Hagrid getting money out of your safe." Sirius said.
"Lets not start this again." James said.
"I mean, it's not like you don't know if Hagrid is the sort of person that would steal your money or anything." he said sarcastically.
"Moony, maybe if you just read he'll stop." Peter said.
"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a golden key. The goblin looked at it closely.
"Good job, random goblin guy."
"SHUT UP!" The boys said.
"What's wrong. Can't you take a joke?"
"That seems to be in order." "An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."
"Because that wasn't suspicious or anything."
"Yes it was!" exclaimed James. "It was one of the most suspisious things I've ever seen Hagrid do!"
"It's called sarcasm, Prongs."
The goblin read the letter carefully. "Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!" Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog-biscuits back inside his pockets, he and Harry followed Griphook towards one of the doors leading off the hall. "What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked. "Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously.
"Bum, Ba buuuuum!"
"Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that." Griphook held open the door for them. Harry, who had expected to see more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downwards and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks towards them. They climbed in - Hagrid with some difficulty - and were off. At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible.
"It's not impossible," Sirius said. "I know mine!"
"Really?" Remus asked skeptically. "Well then, what is it?"
"Right, right, second to last left, middle fork, left, right, two loop-de-loops, a circle around the giant rock thing, left, right, right, right, which actually could be a left but whatever, left, straight, and then you would skid to a stop in front of safe 425."
"Wow, you really remembered it!"
"So you could always take your money if you wanted."
"Actually, no. I just made it up."
The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering. Harry's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but was too late. They plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor. "I never know," Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?" Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick." He did look very green and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees trembling. Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts. "All yours," smiled Hagrid All Harry's - it was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than blinking. How often had they complained how much Harry cost them to keep? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London. Hagrid helped Harry pile some of it into a bag. "The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a sickle, it's easy enough.
"Easy as last year's finals." James said.
"Urg. Let's not talk about those finals." Sirius said.
Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe fer yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen, now, please, and can we go more slowly?"
One speed only," said Griphook.
"No, there isn't."
"There isn't?"
"No, there's actually ten speeds. But the one that they're going on is probably the slowest."
"Good to know."
They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine and Harry leant over the side to try and see what was down at the dark bottom but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck.
Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.
"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.
"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.
"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.
"About once every ten years," said Griphook, with a rather nasty grin.
Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top-security vault, Harry was sure, and he leant forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least - but at first he thought it was empty.
Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but he knew better than to ask.
"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, its best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.
One wild cart-ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Harry didn't know where to run first now that he had a bag full of money. He didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that he was holding more money than he'd had in his whole life - more money than even Dudley had ever had.
Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? Hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.
Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.
"Hogwarts, dear?" she said,
"No, he's going to Beauxbatons." Sirius joked.
when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact." In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head and began to pin it to the right length. "Hullo," said the boy, "Hogwarts too?" "Yes," said Harry.
"What else?"
"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands,"
"Thank you for telling us your life story," Peter said."Though we didn't ask for it," said Sirius.
"Nor wanted to know," added James.
"Or even cared how your mother could even pick out a wand without you there." finished Remus.
said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first-years can't have their own.
Well, let me explain this to you." James said. "First years, by nature, are incredibly stupid. That being said only those in an unstable state of mind would ever allow a first year to own a broom, which could, if handled improperly, result in the injury or death of the rider or observer or innocent bystanders." The others just stared at him. "So, you like my Moony impression?"
"Not really, Prongs. It was slightly creepy."" Sirius said, grinning while Remus mumbled under his breath. "What are you saying, Moony?"
Remus glared. "I don't sound like that!" He said.
"Yes, you do." Peter said.
"Since when?"
"Since forever."
I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley. Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on. "No," said Harry. "Play Quidditch at all?" "No," said Harry again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.
"WHAT!" Yelled James, jumping up. "How on earth could you not know about Quidditch? It's only the only thing that makes life worth living!"
"What about our pranks? What about the Marauding legend?" cried Sirius.
"What about Lily?" said Remus, smirking.
"What about your life long dream to be on a Famous Wizard card?" asked Peter.
"None of that matters! Quidditch is life itself! It's the one thing that drives all Potters! And now my own son doesn't even have a clue what he is missing!"
"Oh, what a deprived child." Peter said sarcastically.
"Like we didn't know already." Sirius answered.
"I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" "No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin,
"Oh, good. Then I don't have to feel guilty about hexing you until your hair is pink and your skin is polka dotted." James said.
"Don't you think that's a bit, you know, pathetic?" Asked Peter.
James snorted. "He's a first year. Let him learn how to do some magic and then we can really curse him out."
"You know, he's not even born yet." Remus said. James frowned.
"Oh, yeah. I forgot about that."
all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"
"I'd leave if I was put in Slytherin." Sirius said, shuddering. "Imagine, living with Regulas and the rest for a whole year."
"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting. "I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding towards the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice-creams to show he couldn't come in. That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."
"Good for you, Prongslet! Maybe that blonde will learn something useful!" Siruis yelled.
"Like how stupid it is to actually wish to go into Slytherin." Muttered James.
"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"
"Or, he could, you know, decide to be a git."
"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less every second.
James sighed. "At least he has my wonderful character judgment. Now, how to tell you about Quidditch…"
"Wait a second." Remus said. "Since when have you ever been good at judging people?"
"Since forever, Moony."
"What about that time in our third year when you asked that kid to watch your broom before the first Quidditch match of the year and he went and broke it?"
"Hey, that's not my fault!"
"Or the time when you asked Mitchell Ryan to join us on one of our pranks and he told McGonagall and we had detention for a month?" asked Peter.
"Mitchell is such a sneak, I thought he would never…"
"Or all those times you've asked Lilly out and she completely embarrassed you?" asked Sirius.
"Does it really matter?"
"Yes!"
"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage -lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and ends up setting fire to his bed."
"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.
"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you?
"Because he doesn't want to be with you!"
Where are your parents?"
"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.
"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"
Enter, stranger, but take heed Of what awaits the sin of greed
"You know, this kid really should be in Slytherin." Sirisu said slowly. "He's stupid, spoiled, and sneering. All characteristics of a true Slytherin.
They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean." I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"
"And he's obsessed with blood types and family names. He might as well be related to me!" Sirius muttered. "He sounds exactly like my cousin Bella."
Before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear,"
"Thank you Madam Malkin."
and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.
Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Hargid bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).
"What's up?" said Hagrid.
"Nothing," Harry lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote.
When they had left the shop, he said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"
"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know - not knowin' about Quidditch!"
"Don't make me feel worse." groaned James.
"Don't make me feel worse," said Harry. He told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin's.
"-and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in -"
"Yer not from a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh were - he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents were wizardin' folk - you saw 'em in the Leaky Cauldron. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles - look at yer mum!
Look at what she had fer a sister!"
"So what is Quidditch?" It's our sport, wizard sport. It's like - like soccer in the Muggle world
"Hagrid! How could you! Desecrate the noble and admirable pastime that is Quidditch by comparing it to this 'soccer.'" James ranted, pacing angrily on the carpet. "'Like soccer', Hagrid? There is no game in the world that shares even an inkling similarity towards Quidditch, let alone some Muggle game!"
"Hey, Prongs, don't you think you're going a little too far there?" Remus asked.
"They don't even play on brooms! How barbaric can one be?"
"Seriously, Prongsy ol' pal, the whole Quidditch speech can wait until tomorrow. Or after eternity." Peter muttered.
"So now I ask you, traitorous gamekeeper we affectionately call Hagrid, will you willfully and intentionally rot this young, innocent son's mind…"
"He's a Marauders son, James! NO MARAUDER IS INNOCENT!" Sirius yelled angrily.
"…with such horrendous and despicable lies? It is an abomination to your reputation, to the wizarding society, and to the world at large!"
"You know, if you take that effort into your homework, you might actually stop failing."
"Shut up, Moony."
- everyone follows Quidditch - played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls - sorta hard ter explain the rules." "And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?" "School houses. There are four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but -" "I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Harry gloomily. "Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."
"Hey, would you look at that. Voldemort was in Slytherin, and he turned out to be, what we kids on the street say, evil. And Snape is in Slytherin."
"Coincidence?" James asked Sirius.
"I think not!" They yelled in unison.
"Vol - sorry - You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"
"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.
They bought Harry's school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all.
"Books with nothing in tham at all?" Sirius asked, jumping to his feet. "I, Sirius Lee Awe Some Black, hereby dub thee, Notebook!" He proclaimed, mock knighting an invisible notebook. "Arise, ye of no words, and we shall have many adventures with Sirs Quill and Ink."
Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these.
Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends and Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.
"I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley."
The boys cheered. It seemed like Harry was going to be a model example of a second generation Marauder.
"I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid. "An' anyway, yeh couldn' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level." Hagrid wouldn't let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("It says pewter on yer list"),but they got a nice set of brass scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the apothecary's, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls, bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop). Outside the apothecary's, Hagrid checked Harry's list again. "Just yer wand left - oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present." Harry felt himself go red. "You don't have to -" "I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer an animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at -an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer post an' everythin'."
"Hagrid?" James asked.
"Getting a normal pet?" Peter said, perplexed.
"What is this world coming to?" Shrieked Sirius in horror.
Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage which held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. He couldn't stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell.
Don' mention it, said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Dursleys.
Just Ollivanders left now - only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."
A magic wand... this was what Harry had been really looking forward to.
"Cue the suspense!"
The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.
A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty for a single spindly chair which Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he'd entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions which had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.
"Now, gradually, let the suspense crescendo into tingly, magical secretiveness with a hint of panic." Sirius said, moving his arms like a conductor, his voice changing from a tone used only by music professors into one shared by the most accomplished of cooking chefs.
"I don't sense any panic, Pads." Remus said, smirking.
"Well, you can't be good at everything." came the reply.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.
An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.
"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.
"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
"Huh, good to know." James said, while Remus groaned.
"Prongs, lets not act like a stalker today, ok?"
"No, Silly Billy. That's just not how James works." Sirius said.
"Stalker?" James asked darkly.
"I think that's better than 'Silly Billy'". Remus replied.
"Your right, it's a bit off. But I can't just call you Silly Moony; it doesn't fit."
"How about giving me a nickname that's not 'Silly' anything." Remus suggested. Sirius ignored him."
"Maybe Silly Molly…but that doesn't work either…"
"How am I a stalker?" James demanded, but Remus was too focused on the future of his new nickname to listen. Peter silently watched, wondering what madness Sirius could come up with this time.
"Silly Millie…makes you sound like a girl…or a pansy, whatever that it."
"Which I'm not."
"Which you are." Sirius and Peter said instantaneously. "I'll get back to you," Sirius continued. "Have your people call my people. We'll get in touch, have some lunch, and drink spiked punch. The whole nine yards."
Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it- it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."
My Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.
"It's not polite to stare."
"And that's where..."
Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.
"I'm sorry to say that I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... Well, if I'd known what that wand was going out in the world to do..."
He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid.
"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"
It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.
"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.
"The plot thickens!"
"Wormtail, the plot is too thick already without you stating the obvious."
"Er - yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.
"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.
"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. Harry noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.
"Oh, of course you don't."
Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now - Mr. Potter. Let me see."
He pulled a long tape measure with silver marking out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"
"Er - well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.
"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head.
As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns or dragons or phoenixes are quite the same.
"They are all unique, just like all the others."
And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."
Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own.
"Boy, I do love the smell of tape measure in the morning."
"Really? Great! Then I know just the thing to give to you for Christmas."
Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.
"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beech-wood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander took it out of his hand almost at once.
"Oh, come on, Ollivander! Give the boy a chance!"
"Prongs, if the wand doesn't choose Harry, then no amount of time will help him."
"Yes it will! What if it's still deciding whether it likes him or not…"
"Wands don't have brains, Prongs."
"…though what kind of a person would hate a Potter is beyond me."
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try -"
Harry tried - but he had hardly raised it when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.
"No, no - here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."
Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.
"Sadist," muttered James under his breath.
"What, is he not allowed to like his job?" asked Peter.
"No. That would just be stupid, to like the job you have. I mean," James shuddered, "you would have to work."
"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere - I wonder, now - yes, why not - unusual combination - holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."
Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers.
He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework,
"HA! That just proves it!"
"Proves what?" asked Sirius, as Peter grabbed the book, re-reading to find out what got James's attention this time.
"Harry's going to be in Gryffindor! This lady, Rowing or whatever…"
"Rowling," grumbled Remus, glancing at the book.
"…she just proved it!"
Sirius laughed. "Prongsy, most wands shoot sparks. Regulus's sparks were blue and yellow, but that doesn't mean that he's going into Ravenclaw!"
James stared gapping at him. "But he's a Potter."
"Really?" Peter asked. "I didn't know."
"Shut up, Peter, and just read the book."
"And how am I supposed to do both?"
"Come on." Whispered Remus. "He's hysterical enough as it is."
throwing dancing spots of light on the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."
He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..."
"Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?"
Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter.
"Because I have absolutely no life whatsoever, and I thought that my time would be much well spent if I memorized all of my orders since the 1400's, rather than buying twenty cats, or, I shudder to think, socializing."
Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather - just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother - why, its brother gave you that scar."
The room was absolutely silent. James and Sirius were glanced at each other worriedly, Remus seemed to be stuck in his 'deep-thinking, do-not-disturb' mode, and Peter was barely breathing. Eventually, Remus came back to the idiotic world he shared with his friends, and took the book away from Peter's stiff hands.
Harry swallowed.
"Yes, thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things -
"I beg your pardon?" squeaked Peter.
terrible, yes, but great."
"That's better."
Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much.
"No one does, believe me."
He paid seven gold Galleons for his wand and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.
The late-afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harry and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Harry didn't speak at all as they walked down the road; he didn't even notice how much people were gawping at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the sleeping snowy owl on Harry's lap.
Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Harry only realized where they were when Hagrid tapped him on the shoulder.
"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said.
He bought Harry a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. Harry kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow.
"You all right, Harry? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid.
Harry wasn't sure he could explain. He'd just had the best birthday of his life
"And to imagine, you just went shopping."
- and yet - he chewed his hamburger, trying to find the words.
"Everyone thinks I'm special,"
"Is that all?" James asked. "Harry, my dear boy, there's no need to worry! They just like to state the obvious; it's nothing to be ashamed about."
he said at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander ... but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Vol- sorry - I mean, the night my parents died."
"I do!" Sirius said, jumping up and down. "Oh, oh! Pick me, pick me?"
"Pick you for what?" Peter asked.
"It's a secret." he answered, narrowing his eyes in an attempt to look mysterious. It was a failed attempt, of course, but the boys didn't have the heart to tell Sirius this.
"Fine. You, sir, in the back. What do you have to say?"
"Harry lives!"
"Oh, is that all?" Remus said. "Nice to know, thank you."
Hagrid leant across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile.
"Don' you worry, Harry. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts - I did - still do, 'smatter of fact."
"Everyone does. It's a requirement. Otherwise, your expelled."
Hagrid helped Harry on to the train that would take him back to the Dursleys, then handed him an envelope.
"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts," he said. "First o' September - King's Cross - it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl, she'll know where to find me... See yer soon, Harry."
The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone.
"Oh, no, Hagrid doesn't do magic at all! That's for the evil people!" James said, his voice ten times lower then usual.
"Please, Moony, can you read some more?" Peter asked.
"Might as well." Remus replied.
