Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling; various publishers including, but not limited to, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books; and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: I'm coming to the end of this first book. There is one more chapter after this one, and then I'm taking a break from posting for a week. During that week, I'll try to get the omake scene up for you, and then posting will begin on part two of the story arc.
Chapter Nine: Diagon Alley
Throughout the remainder of the month of July, Severus made copious notes on the wards surrounding the Brewer lands, while Albus made a copy of Aurilia's grimoire. A.J. spent the week with Harry and his family, and returned home when her parents returned from Florida. A.J. also told her Nana that she was definitely a witch, and her Nana began teaching her some basic spells. Albus arranged for the fireplace in Aurilia's living room to be hooked up to the floo network, with special authorization from the International Confederation of Wizards for it to be one of the few privately-owned international connections. He also gave Aurilia instructions on how to access Diagon Alley for Harry's school needs, and how to contact him at Hogwarts, and gave them a specialized portkey that would work for muggles that would allow Aurilia to drop Harry off at Kings Cross station to catch the Hogwarts Express on September first. Finally, on the twenty-seventh of July, the headmaster deemed it time for both he and Severus to return to Hogwarts.
Aurilia and Dave took Harry to London on the day before his eleventh birthday to purchase his school supplies. Aurilia and Dave both found it extremely disconcerting to go from six o'clock in the morning, spun madly though the floo, only to emerge at precisely noon in a dusty little pub. The bartender, who introduced himself as Tom, opened the archway to Diagon Alley for them. "Lemme see that list, kiddo," Dave said, trying not to gawk at all the strange sights.
Harry, who wasn't even trying not to stare, silently handed over the list that Dumbledore had given him, as well as the list of books that Snape had recommended. Dave read through the list from Dumbledore while handing the other list to Aurilia. Harry had long since had both lists memorized.
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.
COURSE 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 Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic 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
wand
cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
set glass or crystal phials
telescope 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
Snape's list of recommended books wasn't quite the same length as the required items list from Dumbledore, but was close.
Hogwarts: A History by the United History Association of the UK
Aaurinspores to Zythnikan Bile: The Potions Compendium of Ingredients and Practices by Alma Umyerai
The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts by Thomas Krisp
Of Two Worlds: Balancing Muggle and Magic by Lorelai Pierson
Ensuring Quiet: Occlumency and Other Mental Disciplines by Minnie Reardon
The Life and Times of Merlin by A. Pendragon
Feeling it Out: An Empath's Guide by Mercedes Alegre
Ministry Rules and Regulations in Layman's Terms by Prof. G. A. Ruther
Gobstones and Exploding Snap: Games Beyond Quidditch by Carl Ponties
Quidditch Through the Ages by the International Quidditch Association
Wizarding Customs and Culture by Fiona Malfoy
Tracing Your Roots: the Wizard's Guide to Genealogy by Juan Pasado
Dumbledore had also let Aurilia know which shops to visit to purchase the various books and other assorted requirements, so the three Iowans first headed towards the large white building at the end of the street. Aurilia knew from Dumbledore's descriptions that the building was Gringotts – the wizard bank. Aurilia needed to transfer some money into wizarding funds and they also needed to see about the vault that Harry's biological parents had left him. Harry was busy staring at what appeared to be a particularly ugly old woman, thinking I wonder if she's supposed to look like that? when Dave's voice startled him out of his musings. "'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.' Kinda ominous, if ya ask me."
"I agree," Aurilia replied. Harry didn't say anything; he thought the poem was actually rather catchy and the perfect motto for a bank that no doubt had all sorts of magical safety precautions. He followed his mom and uncle to a sign that said 'Currency Exchanges' and the three waited in line behind a tall, round, older man who walked with a limp and a shorter boy that was probably close to Harry's age. The boy was fidgeting, but the older man clasped the boy's shoulder tightly. "Justin! Stand still, for Christsakes, boy. The stores won't be going anywhere."
Harry was suddenly grateful he'd been raised in Iowa. Who knows who would have been standing with him if he'd not been adopted by his mom? After a lengthy wait, it was finally Aurilia's turn. To Harry's surprise, the teller wasn't one of the strange creatures at the other windows, but a brightly cheerful young woman. "First time to Gringotts?" she asked.
"Yes," Aurilia replied.
"Will you just want a straight currency exchange, or will you be looking to open up an account with us?"
"An exchange for now, though my son's already got a vault here. I was told he inherited it from his biological family."
The girl looked flustered for a moment before she took a deep breath and recited something to herself. Harry thought it sounded like, "One thing at a time, Lissa. One thing at a time." Out loud and to his mom, she asked, "And how much will you be exchanging today?"
"I'm not sure. I need to outfit a Hogwarts first year, and get him a few extras. What would you suggest?"
The girl checked a complicated-looking chart, "Hmm… First year… Hogwarts… Around a hundred galleons ought to cover everything nicely and give your son a bit of spending money for when he gets there. That will be five hundred, twenty-five pounds, please."
Aurilia sighed, "How much in dollars, please? I've not dealt with British money for seven years."
The girl checked another chart, "Nine hundred, forty-six dollars."
Dave let out a low whistle, "Damn," he whispered.
Aurilia merely nodded and handed over ten one-hundred-dollar bills. After a few moments, she received a bag of bronze, copper, and gold coins, along with a receipt and her change. "In order to check on any hereditary vaults, you will want to join that queue over there," she pointed to the proper line. Luckily, it was nearly void of people.
"Thanks," Aurilia said to the girl, then led Dave and Harry to the other line. Their wait was only a couple of minutes and then they were face-to-face with a Gringotts goblin. "Name and business, please."
"Aurilia Brewer, come to inquire about a vault which my son seems to have inherited from his biological parents."
"Have you a key?" the goblin asked, peering over the counter at her.
Aurilia nodded, "Yes, sir. Here," she handed the tiny, golden key to the goblin.
A moment later, the goblin looked up and asked, "Wait here, please."
They waited for a full five minutes before the goblin reappeared. "Follow me, please."
They followed the short, misshapen creature through a series of hallways and doors to a door that had a brass plaque on it which read 'Trust Office.' The goblin opened the door and motioned for them to enter. "Someone will be along shortly," he said and disappeared.
Another wait of several minutes passed, during which Dave muttered, "I hate bureaucracy."
Aurilia snickered, and just managed to stop when yet another door opened to reveal a very wizened goblin. "This way, please." They followed the goblin into a respectable and comfortable office. "Please have a seat. I understand you," he addressed Aurilia, "are Mr. Potter's legal guardian, correct?"
Harry spoke up before Aurilia could, "She's my mom, but my last name's Brewer now, sir."
"Indeed," the goblin replied and began making notations on a long scroll of parchment. "With the deaths of Lily and James Potter, the contents of the Potter family vaults were sealed and sent to this office to be held in trust for Harry until he either came of age or a legal guardian was selected. The key you held was an expense account, meant to provide for Harry's schooling. Since he now has a legal guardian, the entire account may be opened to peruse at your leisure. All you need do is sign this," he snapped his fingers and a thick scroll appeared. He handed it to Aurilia.
"Pardon, but don't you need some sort of identification?"
The goblin's face contorted into what could only be a grin, "There is no need, Mrs. Brewer. We goblins are able to detect untruth through any means. And now, if you would?" he motioned to the scroll.
Aurilia unrolled it and found that it was almost incomprehensible; full of 'parties of the first part' and other legal jargon. "What does all this mean?" she asked.
"Simply that you are indeed Harry's guardian, and are accepting the responsibility of taking over the Potter Trust for him. Your access to the vaults will become restricted as of July 31, 1997 – the day Harry comes of age in the wizarding world. He can, of course, reopen that access once the vaults are transferred to his name. Also, any transactions of more than one thousand galleons will need to be signed for by both you and Harry," the goblin explained.
"What if Harry needs access to an amount more than a thousand galleons and I'm not available?" Aurilia asked, though why Harry would ever need nearly ten thousand dollars was beyond her, she felt it best to ask, if only to assuage her curiosity.
"In that instance, we would attempt to contact you through any means necessary. If you still remained unavailable, and it was dire need, the expense would be audited by the Trust Association, and either approved or denied accordingly."
Aurilia nodded and picked up the quill pen the goblin held out, "Will I be able to get a copy of this?" she asked.
The goblin nodded, "A copy will be made available for you before you leave. Though I understand you already exchanged some money for your purchases today, you may want to see what is available in the vaults – many of our patrons store things other than money with us."
Aurilia signed her name with a flourish, "Will my husband have the same privileges as me?"
"If Harry wishes for him to, just have him sign your copy, and his signature will appear on our copy of the document." Harry signed his name below his mom's and the scroll flashed bright gold before disappearing. "I shall now send for a goblin to take you to the Potter vaults," he clicked his fingers again and they were soon joined by another goblin, "Racknock, please show these people to the Potter vaults."
The other goblin, Racknock, bowed and said, "This way, please."
Aurilia, Dave, and Harry followed the short creature back through the hallways and doors to a room that reminded Dave of the last time he had been to a theme park. "Sit down, please," the goblin motioned to the two rows of seats. When everyone was sitting, the cart took off down a long track. Though Harry tried to count the different turns, they were going so fast, and there were so many of them, that he wasn't able. After several minutes the cart pulled to a stop at the end of a short, dead-end hall. Dave and Harry tumbled out of the cart, laughing. Dave told Harry it was almost as good as a roller coaster, but Aurilia, on the other hand, had never really liked carnival rides. She had to pry her fingers out of the side of the cart. She was white and shaky. It took her a moment to realize that the goblin was speaking again. "There are three primary vaults. The first holds solely the cash funds of the Potter estate, the second is used as a depository of objects of value. The last is used to hold documents pertaining to the estate. Which do you wish to see first?"
Harry shrugged and looked to his mom, when he realized that she wasn't going to be much help, he turned to Dave. "Objects?" Dave offered.
"Why not?" Harry grinned and returned his attention to the goblin. "The objects vault, Mr. Racknock."
The goblin nodded and walked to the door sitting at the exact end of the dead-end hall. He made a complicated-looking gesture with his hands. "Most of the old families like the Potters also have a specific ward over their vaults, limiting access to those with the family blood only. You are allowed to take guests in with you, of course, however, until you request for the ward to be dismantled, no one not of Potter blood will be able to enter the vaults, even to act in your stead." Racknock explained before opening the vault door.
"Is there anything I need to do?" Harry asked. "And is there any way to adjust the ward so Mom, Dad, and Uncle Dave can come here without me?"
"You need not do anything, as long as the guests you bring are within ten feet of you when you enter the vault, the wards will recognize them as your guests. And to alter the ward in the way you described, we will need a drop of blood from all involved parties."
Harry grimaced, he'd never really enjoyed having his blood drawn for any reason. "In that case, go ahead and have it dismantled. I'm sure whatever protections y'all have normally will be enough."
"As you wish, Mr. Brewer." The goblin stepped aside and took a guard position outside the door.
"You comin', Mom?"
Aurilia shook her head, "I don't think so, Harry." Harry had to admit, he'd never seen his mom looking quite so ill before, and that included the time she found a petrified peanut butter and jelly sandwich stuck to the underside of the microwave. Harry still didn't know how it ended up there.
"What about you, Dave?"
"Are you kiddin'? Wouldn't miss it for the world, Hare-bear." Harry scowled at the nickname and headed into the vault. Once he stepped inside, several torches sprung to life along the walls. It looked like a slightly cleaner version of a typical attic, with numerous boxes and trunks piled everywhere. There was a distinct lack of dust, which Harry figured had to have something to do with magic.
"What are we lookin' for, any idea?" Harry asked.
"No clue," Dave replied, then grinned. "Looks like fun."
Harry returned Dave's grin before wandering around the room. He picked a shiny blue trunk at random and opened it, completely missing the initials J.P. engraved into the lock plate. The first thing Harry noticed was that it contained a ladder going down, down much farther than the depth of the trunk. "Hey, Dave! Take a look at this!"
"Whacha find?" Dave hurried over.
"Look at this. Where do you think it goes?"
Dave pulled out the miniature Mag-light he carried on his belt, along with his buck-knife. He twisted the end to turn it on and shone it down the ladder. "Only one way to find out," he said.
Dave went first. When he reached the bottom, he shone the light up to Harry, "It's okay. Some sorta room or somethin'. Come on down."
Harry swung his legs over the side of the trunk and set his feet on the outside of the poles of the ladder. He tugged his sleeves over his hands and slid down the ladder. Dave caught him at the bottom. Taking a moment for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, he asked, "D'you think we're still in the trunk?"
"No idea, Harry," Dave replied.
The room was set up like a cross between a library and a bedroom, either that or the bedroom of someone with a serious book addiction. The floor and walls were a polished hardwood, and there was a single bed in one corner, complete with gold-and-scarlet covers. The opposite wall was a single large bookcase, containing what had to be hundreds of books. There was a desk built into the wall, too. On the desk was a thick packet of parchment.
Sirius C. Black or Harry J. Potter.
Harry's skin prickled with goosebumps when he saw it. "Dave?"
"Hmm?" Dave asked, looking down from where he was inspecting the book titles.
"Does that say what I think it does?"
"Well… It looks like it's either addressed to you or some guy named Sirius Black. Go ahead an' take it, Harry. Let's see what it says."
Harry reached out and seized the packet with a shaking hand. "Can we go back up to read this? It's kinda dark down here." He didn't know why, but he was suddenly afraid that the trunk would close and lock, trapping them in the small, dark room.
"Sure thing, kiddo," Dave handed him the flashlight and quickly climbed up the ladder. Harry was close on his heels.
Once back in the relatively bright atmosphere of the vault itself, Harry cracked open the wax holding the packet closed. A heavy gold ring that had an engraving of a winged lion flying over a crossed wand and sword fell out, along with a single sheet of parchment, folded over several times. Dave picked the ring up from where it fell on the floor while Harry read the letter.
31July, 1981
Sirius,
If I'm still alive and well, please return my ring and burn this mess of parchment. It just means I was too stupid to clean out my old school trunk after everything died down. If not…
Merlin, I don't want to write this, but I feel I have to. You know I never did put much stock in divination, right? Even though I keep getting these weird hunches… Like fifth year. Something's telling me that this is a good idea.
First off, I have to say that you're right, and I'm sorry about your jaw. You really are too obvious to be our Secret Keeper and everyone that was at Hogwarts with us or that has met us since would know in a heartbeat that you'd be our Secret Keeper. And, I know it hurts, but Remus really isn't the best option, either. We just don't know if someone would be able to get the information on the full moon… Lily and I decided to go with Peter as our Secret Keeper. Yeah, I know. Little Peter Pettigrew. Merlin, Sirius, it's a bad idea. I know it is. But, Lily does have a point – no one would suspect us trusting Wormtail with such an important task. Then again, everyone – us included – has always had a tendency to overlook and underestimate him. Isn't that why we let him into the Marauders to begin with? Because no one would suspect him?
However, I appear to be getting away from the topic at hand. If you are reading this – because, let's face it, I don't think I'd forget to retrieve the signet-ring – then everything has gone completely balls-up. I hope you and Harry have been happy and that you've brought him up in true Marauder style. Or, if you're reading this and Harry's still little, then please teach him how to have fun. Pranks are never too big, nor too small. After all, I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.
Harry, if you're the one reading this, then I'm sorry for not being there over the years. You can blame me if you've not had the life you wanted, if it makes you feel better, though the real fault lies at the feet of Voldemort and his bloody Death Eaters. You see, Harry, there's a prophesy out there. I knew the moment I heard it that it was about you, though everyone else says that it could be about the Longbottom boy. I don't believe that for a second, son, and you shouldn't either. If Voldemort has already been disposed of in an appropriate manner – personally, I always thought it would be entertaining to watch the bastard slow-roast over a volcano – then good for you, Harry! If not… Merlin, I don't want you to have to face him. Ever. But he won't give you the option to ignore him, Harry. That prophesy won't let either of you loose.
'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies, and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not, and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives, the one with the power to vanquish the dark lord will be born as the seventh month dies.' That's the whole thing. As you can see, it's nothing a parent really wants their child to have to go through.
Sirius, if you're the one reading this, you have to promise me to tell this to Harry when he's old enough to understand. It's important. Really important. Not the I-just-have-nothing-to-do-so-I'll-prank-someone important, but fate-of-the-world important. Harry has to know this. I don't know why it's so important, just that it is. I also know that if it was left up to Albus, Harry won't know of it until it's potentially too late. Too late for what? I don't know. Dumbledore's heart is in the right place, it's just his execution that leaves something to be desired. Had he had it his way, I doubt we would have learned of the prophesy at all. Luckily, one of our friends in the Department of Mysteries came through for me. Cost me the last six cases of Granddad's firewhiskey, though.
Also, if you're reading this and Harry's living with Lily's sister, GET HIM OUT OF THAT HOUSE!! I don't care if you have to kidnap him, don't let Petunia raise Harry. I have nightmares about that. Harry, if for any reason you were left with the Dursleys instead of Sirius, I want you to track down Remus Lupin or Sirius – Merlin, they shouldn't be too hard to find, one usually is near the other… Show them this letter and run away with them. Don't stay with the Dursleys. I can't stress that enough, Harry. Stay away from the Dursleys. I can't explain why it's a bad idea, just like I can't explain why I feel compelled to write this, but please… I'm begging. Stay away from them.
Merlin, there's so much I want to say, but I know I don't have the time. Lily will be back with Harry from the market at any moment, and I don't want to have to try to explain one of my 'silly little hunches' to her again. You know how stubborn she can be…
Sirius, you are the best mate a guy could hope for – you're truly the brother I never had.
Harry, I hope that you manage to best Voldemort and go on to have a long and happy life. Beware the temper of red-heads, though. They're the best kind of girl, but they do have a tendency to bite back… rather hard.
With all my hope that this proves unnecessary,
James Potter
Somewhere around the second paragraph, Harry had sat down on the floor. The letter created far more questions than it answered, and his head was spinning. "What's it say, Harry?" Dave asked, kneeling down beside the boy. Harry shook his head and handed his uncle the letter. Dave quickly read it and let out a low whistle when he came to the end. "Damn."
"Guys?" Aurilia's voice floated into the vault. "You two about done poking around in there?"
Harry shook himself and called back, "Yeah, Mom. Just a sec!" He put the ring and the letter back into the envelope and slid down the ladder into the room in the trunk once more. He placed the letter back on the desk before returning to Dave in the vault. "Grab the trunk, would you, Dave?"
Dave nodded and hefted the bright blue trunk to his shoulders, noticing that it was much lighter than it should have been – not that he really had any idea how much the average room-in-a-trunk was supposed to weigh.
"What's this?" Aurilia asked when they emerged from the vault.
"A trunk, what's it look like?" Dave sarcastically replied.
"I can see that, but why this one?" Aurilia caught the glimmer of blue and shook her head, "Never mind. I see why. So, are we going to finish up our business here and head home sometime today?"
"Lead on, MacDuff," Dave grinned.
Harry had Dave sit the trunk on the floor of the cart, beneath his and Racknock's feet. They then all piled back into the cart for another harrowing ride to the surface. When the cart pulled to a stop, the wizened old goblin from earlier met them and handed a copy of the scroll from earlier to Aurilia. "Thank you," she said.
"You're welcome," the goblin replied. Harry had the distinct impression that the goblin was rather surprised to be thanked for doing what he saw as his job. Once out in the bright sunlight, Harry had Dave set the trunk down. He had noticed a little knob where the key would normally be on a regular trunk.
"Wonder what this does?" he asked aloud. It had three settings: blue, green, and grey. It was currently set on grey. He turned the knob until the little arrow was pointing at the blue selection and opened the trunk. Instead of the ladder leading to the strange little room, there was a disorganized mess of books and papers. Most of them appeared to be schoolwork and notes, almost entirely in the same slightly-sloppy handwriting as the letter he'd read earlier.
"You didn't bother cleaning it out before bringing it with you?" Aurilia asked, slightly irritated.
"You didn't really give us the chance, Aurilia," Dave replied.
Harry, meanwhile, had closed the trunk and turned the knob to the green section and opened the trunk again. This time, it was full of out-of-date clothes, most of which looked to be too big for Harry. Harry sighed and closed the trunk again. "It's more than it appears, Mom. It has an entire room in it. We'll show ya when we get home. Let's hurry up an' finish up here so we can go."
Aurilia nodded, "If you insist."
Their first stop was at the apothecary – Dumbledore had told Aurilia that it was the best place to get Harry's phials and cauldron. Once finished there, they stopped by Flourish and Blotts, where it took a full hour to hunt down all the books that were both required and recommended. Harry had added a couple of others that looked interesting. Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was extremely busy, though. They had to wait in line for nearly an hour while students were called up for their fittings. Harry found himself between a girl with bushy brown hair and her nose buried in a brand-new copy of The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, obviously standing with her father as they looked rather alike, and an intimidating old woman who had a stuffed vulture on her hat and a death-grip on a short, round boy who looked somewhat lost. Harry leaned over to the girl with the bushy hair, "Is it interestin'?"
She jumped and looked up from her book, "Pardon?"
"Your book. I was wonderin' if it was all 'at interestin'. I got a copy of it, but ain't read it yet."
The girl grinned, "Yes, it's rather fascinating." Her eyes flicked to the scar on Harry's forehead and shock registered on her face, "My, you're Harry Potter, aren't you?" Luckily, the shop was rather noisy, and the only ones who heard her were Harry, Dave, and Aurilia.
Harry shrugged, "Kinda. My last name's Brewer, though. I was adopted when I was a baby. What's your name?"
"Hermione Granger," the girl tucked the book under her arm and offered her hand.
"Pleased ta meet ya," Harry said shaking her hand. "This is my mom, Aurilia, and my uncle, Dave."
Hermione looked up at the adults, "Pleasure."
"What?" Aurilia looked down. "Oh, hello. Harry, you're up next, after that black boy is done."
"Yeah, I know," he rolled his eyes at his mom, though Aurilia didn't notice. "You goin' to Hogwarts this fall, too?" he asked Hermione.
Hermione beamed, "Yes, I am. This is my last stop for the day. What about you?"
Harry shook his head, "Nope, not done yet. We still have to get me a wand, an' some other stuff, like the telescope."
Hermione's brow furrowed, "Where are you from?" she asked. "I don't think I recognize your accent."
"I live in Iowa with my adopted Mom an' Dad. Dave lives there, too."
"And you're coming to Hogwarts rather than going to a school in the US?"
"Yeah. I wasn't sure if I wanted to or not, but hey… It is a castle. I ain't seen one before, an' if I wanted ta go to the magic school close to home, I'd hafta wait another two years, 'til I was in ninth grade."
After conversing with the famous Boy-Who-Lived, Hermione had to admit to being rather disappointed. He sounded stupid. Luckily, she was saved from having to further the conversation any by Harry's number being called for fittings. "Guess I'll see ya at school, Hermione," he smiled at her. She returned the smile – it was the polite thing to do, after all. Harry hurried up to the fitting platform and tried not to squirm too much during his fitting. When he was done, Aurilia paid for the robes, Dave picked up the bag, and they continued on their way.
Their last stop was Ollivander's, for his wand. Harry had particularly been looking forward to this part. By the time he left, though, Harry was thoroughly freaked out about the wand that chose him, as well as the old man that ran the store. Apparently, he ended up with the brother wand to Voldemort's. He didn't think that was a good sign, especially after reading the letter from his father. To his surprise, they didn't go straight home. Aurilia paused outside a candy store and sighed. She handed Harry the rest of the money from their trip and said, "Go ahead, luz. Have fun, and please try to save some of the money for during school."
"I will, Mom." Harry grinned and grabbed the little leather pouch before heading into the store, his apprehension at his wand momentarily forgotten in the face of so much sugar.
He wasn't quite sure what most of the candies were, so he got a selection of everything that sounded good; chocolate frogs, Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, licorice wands, pumpkin pasties, cauldron cakes, acid pops, Droobles Best Blowing Gum, and much, much more. The bag was heavy enough that the shopkeeper took pity on him and cast a lightening charm on it for him.
"Jesus, Harry, did you leave anythin' in the store?" Dave asked when he saw the bag.
Harry nodded, "'Course I did. An' I didn't spend all the money, Mom, so ya don't hafta ask."
"Thank Gaia for small favors," she muttered before leading them back towards the Leaky Cauldron and home.
A/N2: Thanks again for continuing to read!