This document beta'd by the generous LadyDisdain2014
Chapter 6: The Hidden Alley
The day after Harry's party, the family set out for Diagon Alley. Harry peered out the window of the car, asking every 10 minutes how close it was. The bill of his ball cap kept sliding up, and Tom kept patiently reminding Harry to pull it back down. On the recommendation of Mr. Weasley, they were hiding Harry's scar for the day to retain some level of anonymity.
"A few minutes closer than the last time you asked, Harry," his father said good-naturedly. Truth be told, Tom was just as excited as Harry, though some of that was channeled into nervousness. He resisted the urge to put his hand on his shoulder holster for the umpteenth time. He was the only member of the group who was armed, and they were going into unknown and potentially dangerous territory alone. He'd been told Diagon Alley was one of the safest places in wizarding Britain by Sergeant Prewitt, but didn't calm his fears entirely. If had been just him, he'd have been fine. But he wasn't alone, so he worried.
Before long the family arrived at the Leaky Cauldron. The Weasley family was waiting, and the McAllister's were introduced to Mrs. Weasley, and the twin boys Fred and George.
"Please, call me Molly," Mrs. Weasley said to Alice, giving her a warm hug despite meeting only moments earlier. "Arthur has been doing nothing but talking about all the wonderful muggle contraptions you have at your house, and Ronald has been talking about this games man thing Harry had nonstop."
"It's a Game Boy, mum," Ron said, rolling his eyes.
"Hey Harry," Fred (actually George, but only his mother knew that) said, "Ever been to a magical joke shop?"
"Gambol and Japes has got loads of stuff," Not-George continued.
"-which we would be happy to recommend for your pranking pleasure," Not-Fred said.
"-for a small share in the mayhem," Not-George finished.
"Fred!" Molly protested, alarmed at what sounded like begging to her.
"Can I mum, please?" Harry begged, already thinking of ways to give his sister a going away "present."
Alice looked at Tom, who bent down to whisper in Harry's ear. "We'll go to the bank first. Get two of everything. We'll send one set to the lab for analysis. If it isn't too dangerous, we'll set a few off at the range."
"We have to go to the stupid bank first," Harry told the Weasley boys. "But then my dad says we can get two of everything."
"Two," George whispered.
"-of everything…." Fred finished, dreams of chaos and mayhem floating through their minds' eye.
Molly looked at Alice slightly aghast, who shrugged and smiled. "Oh, I'm sure Tom will supervise it. He takes Harry and Rebecca down to the range on base every now and again to show them how to shoot and set off fireworks and the like. They're all looking forward to experimenting with magic."
"Oh, um, er, we'll have to talk about that in more detail," Arthur began as they walked towards the back entrance as a group.
"Oh, say, Arthur, I found an old Walkman for you, the one we were talking about at the party. Here, I've got some old Queen and Sex Pistols tapes in there from when I was in OTS. Have a listen," Tom said, handing over a bulky old cassette player with headphones.
Whatever Arthur had been going to say was quickly forgotten as he delightedly examined and listened to the device, commenting on the "amazing things muggles have managed these days."
Tom nodded and played along. He'd brought a few other old electronic devices with him to test while they were in a magically active area and to keep his MInistry of Magic minder distracted as need be. Unbeknownst to Arthur, these had been enforced with what techies had dubbed "lodestone hardening" to allow them to function even in the midst of an active magical field.
The group made their way to Gringotts, where Arthur was reminded forcefully by Molly to explain magical exchange rates. "Oh yes, um, one Galleon for 17 sickles and one sickle for 29 knuts," Arthur said."
"So there are 493 knuts in a galleon?" Becky asked as they ascended the stairs.
Arthur nodded at her, slightly perplexed. "Um, yes, how did you know that?"
"Did it in my head,' Becky bragged. "It was simple."
"She actually likes maths," Harry said, making a disgusted face. "I'm glad they don't have maths at Hogwarts."
"You need maths if you want to be a scientist," Becky insisted. "That's as close to a wizard as I'll ever get. Batman's good at maths you know."
"What's a batman?" Ginny asked.
"He's a superhero, sort of like The Doctor but American and without the Tardis," Harry explained.
At Ginny's blank look, Becky immediately swooped in and began educating the youngest Weasley on the finer points of pop culture she'd missed growing up in a wizarding household. Fred and George listened in, becoming increasingly interested in what Becky was describing, especially the gadgets that sounded ripe for interesting pranks.
Arthur had given Tom the key to Harry's vault the day before, and the two families split up to make their respective withdrawals. Harry was shocked to see just how much was in his bank, and he and Rebecca both demanded to be allowed to stuff their pockets with treasure.
"The vault belongs to Mr. Potter alone," their goblin guide said, stretching out a hand to prevent the girl's entry.
"It's McAllister," Harry corrected, not taking his eyes off the coins. "And besides, I think it's my parents' right now anyway, I'm just a kid. And there's loads of stuff here, Becky can take some too, can't she, mum and dad?"
"The contents of Vault 687 belong to-" the goblin began, but stopped as Alice produced a folder of documents and handed them to the goblin.
"Legal adoption and name change, as well as legal guardianship given to myself and my husband. This vault belongs to Harry McAllister, and we have legal stewardship of it and it's contents until such a time as Harry comes of age and can lay claim to it."
The goblin snatched the papers and read them carefully while Tom helped Harry and Becky count out a good sum of money to put into the special purpose bags they'd been given. "Hmmm. Well, this does all seem to be in order. I suppose you'll want this converted to muggle currency then?"
Alice shook her head. "No need. Seeing how much is in here, I think we'll have to have a trust fund set up. Perhaps your bank can advise us as to investment opportunities in the wizarding world so that my son's money isn't simply rotting away in the vault and is doing something productive? We can set up a stipend of spending money for him as well off the interest."
The goblin lowered the papers, his fingers twitching and eyes glowing with dark fire. "Ah, ah, how exciting. Wizards never wish to discuss such important things. Hardly understand how loans and interest work. Yes, yes, I shall have my manager sit down with us and draw up some plans. There are several investment options we have for you, some high risk but with great reward, and others lower risk but with a smaller return."
Alice smiled, showing some teeth in a predatory smile. "I have my level seven diploma in wealth management. I was an independent broker until I met Tom, and I still manage our finances quite nicely. I look forward to dealing with you, but don't expect to take me for a ride."
The goblin looked at her with newfound respect, and extended a talon. "Griphook, associate banker with Gringotts Wizarding Bank. A pleasure, Mrs. McAllister. I think we shall have a most profitable relationship."
Alice stayed behind at the bank to negotiate with the goblins, while Tom, Harry and Becky re-joined the Weasleys. The children begged to visit the joke shop or get some sweets, but the adults were firm that business came before pleasure. The first stop was the bookstore, where school books were picked out. Becky used some of her money to get several books of her own on heroic wizards and witches of ages past, as well as some adventure novels.
"Don't wizards have comic books?" Becky asked Ginny, looking through the rather sparse fiction section.
Ginny shook her head. "No, after talking with you I'm starting to think maybe I'm missing out. You've read loads more books than I have, the only really interesting author writing books right now is Gilderoy Lockhart. I only have Gadding with Ghouls, the new ones are so expensive. Mum and I both love them."
"Well, let's just get a full set," Becky said as she selected one of each of Lockhart's books, which were somewhat erroneously filed in the nonfiction section. "You can come over and borrow them when I'm done, and I've got lots of other books you might like. Have you ever read Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH?"
Meanwhile Harry and Ron were selecting their own books, both of them rummaging through the second hand section.
"This is brilliant Ron. If we get second hand books, we can spend the extras at the joke shop."
"Oh yeah, um, that's right," Ron agreed, though he had automatically gone for the second hands, knowing it was what his family could afford. Harry was still somewhat oblivious to this, and began telling Ron about his bank vault.
"I've got loads of treasure in the bank that I never even knew about! It's like Smaug's horde! Does your family have a dragon horde of gold too?"
Ron muttered something under his breath, then grabbed the last of his books. "I've got to go," he stated abruptly, then stomped off to his parents.
"What's eating him?" Harry asked Becky. Ginny and Ron were back with their parents, and taking their leave from the store.
"Harry, were you talking about money with Ron?" Becky said quietly.
Harry looked up at her and shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so."
"I wouldn't. I think they're not very well off. It seems like a sensitive subject. Ginny doesn't have hardly any books of her own, and her mother scolded her when she asked if she could buy a new one. Plus, look at their clothes. They also seem rather proud. I wouldn't show off in front of them."
"Oh." Harry thought about that for a moment. He wasn't a cruel child, but he also was about as perceptive as your average eleven-year-old boy; which was to say not at all. He perked up a bit suddenly. "Oh, I know! I can buy everyone ice cream with my money to make it up to them."
"I think they'd be offended if you just gave it to them, Harry. Maybe say it's payment for helping us buy your school supplies and showing us around. I think they'd be more likely to accept that."
Harry nodded and hurried off with his offer to buy treats for everyone. At first Molly and Arthur protested, but when Harry made it clear it was payment for services rendered, saying "It's the least I can do for all the help you've given, and since I know Ron and George and Fred will help me at school" the Weasleys finally agreed to be treated.
The families split up after the ice cream so Harry could get his wand. "Ollivander's is the only place to get a new wand," Arthur explained. "We've ah, already got one for Ron. Family heirloom. But you folks go ahead. Mr. Ollivander is an expert, he'll take good care of you."
The McAllister's stepped inside of the musty old wand shop. Behind the counter sat a bespectacled man working with a small knife on a piece of wood, delicately carving it. Past him was a venerable warehouse of shelves, each packed with small boxes that had to contain the wands. Harry approached the counter eagerly, and the man looked up at him.
"Ah, Mr. Potter. I thought I'd be-"
"McAllister," Harry corrected automatically. He added a "sorry" when the man looked taken aback. "I'm adopted. I'm sure the Potters were brilliant, but I'm a McAllister now and I'm proud of it."
Tom squeezed his shoulder and nodded to the man. "We're looking for a wand for my son, Harry McAllister. He's attending Hogwarts in the fall. "
The man quickly recovered. "Ah, of course. Garrick Ollivander. You two must be muggles. His adoptive family? Ah, yes."
"Can I try a wand too?" Becky asked, eyeing the boxes.
Mr. Ollivander shook his head sadly. "I can give you a wand my dear, but it will do nothing for you. Without the innate spark of magic, a wand is nothing more than a stick. What it is that makes a wizard, I do not know. All I can do is make the wands that draw it out and make it wonderous."
"Would you make wands for norms if you could?" Harry asked. When Mr. Ollivander gave him a blank look, Harry blanched and clarified, "Muggles, I mean."
"Hmm. An interesting proposition. I suppose I would, given the chance. I've never much cared about bloodlines or whose parents are muggles and whose are not. Why, some of the finest witches and wizards, such as your birth mother who had a 10 ¼ inches long willow, were born of muggles. There was a young woman in here earlier with muggle parents, 10 ¾ inches, vinewood with dragon heartstring, who will make a most spectacular witch unless I very much miss my guess. But the wand chooses the wizard, you know. For some reason, they cannot see muggles, just as muggles cannot feel them. A tragedy, to be sure. So many wands I make, longing for the proper hand, but one never comes...such a waste. But ah, yes, to you, young man. A wand. First, your measurements."
A magical measuring tape took Harry's measurements, as Ollivander searched about for the perfect wand for Harry. Several wands were tried to no avail, though the criteria for which Ollivander was searching seemed nebulous to the McAllisters. Sometimes a wand would do no more than touch Harry's fingers before it was snatched away, other times Ollivander would have Harry wave the wand around before sighing and replacing it in its box. Finally though, Ollivander held out a box, a thoughtful expression on his face.
"Here. Try this one. Holly, with a phoenix feather. Eleven inches. Go on lad, give it a wave."
As soon as Harry took hold of the wand, he felt an odd sensation, like an electric current but one that made his mind focus and his stomach tingle with excitement. He waved the wand, a stream of red gold sparks emitted from it.
Ollivander nodded. "Yes, yes, that's the one. Curious...most curious."
"What's curious?" Tom demanded, his own stomach filled with a mix of dread and wonder.
Ollivander fixed Tom with a soul piercing stare as he took the wand and wrapped it for sale. "Mr. McAllister, I remember every wand I've sold, and to whom every wand has gone, and what ingredients were in each of my wands. No two wands are alike, yet some are related, just as some humans are. The core of your son's wand came from a Phoenix that gave me only two feathers. The first was the brother of the wand that chose your son. That wand was responsible for the scar he bears. That this particular wand would choose your son... it means he is marked for greatness. For the man that took the brother wand was also a great man. A terrible one to be sure, but a great one. Destiny it seems, has something in store for young Harry as well."
Tom nodded thoughtfully, looking down at Harry. "Aye. That it does."
He could only hope that that destiny was the one that would heal the divide between muggles and wizards, instead of forever dooming one side or the other.
Authors Note:
I was originally going to have Harry meet Draco in Madam Malkin's again, but there really wasn't any way that was going to end well, and it isn't yet time for the smashy-smashy fighty-fighty yet. Though it would have been pretty funny for a 12 year old girl to put Lucius Malfoy in a submission hold.
Some other time.
