Hello, hello. All places and things taken from Harry Potter belong to JKR, but just to let you know, I made up all of the names of the books from last chapter, and all of the names of the shops in this chapter. And, of course, every single character that appears in this fanfic. I may take the liberty to change things from canon that are not usually changed, but then, this isn't a usual fanifc, so you should expect it. Shout outs to all of you who commented since the last post, you are THE BEST. Anyone with artistic skills who wants a cameo? Send scans of fan art to the email in my profile! Enjoy all of the happenings in this awesomest of awesome chapters, adios!

Still writing for ya' guys,
Dr. Elemenohpee

Rally In the Alley

The Portkey trip had been odd, to say the least, but otherwise uneventful. With a touch of the enchanted empty can of Campbell tomato soup, he and his uncle had been transported through space itself to the front of a beautiful, one-floor house. The in-between had felt like a magical hook had gotten a hold of him below the belly button, and jerked swiftly. It was late when they arrived at Uncle Dellior's place, and Dag had immediately gone to sleep after being shown his room.

He was woken with breakfast in bed, served by the now familiar Forrin. "Good morning, Master Hartwood, I hope you had a pleasant night."

Dag rolled over and smiled. The bed was the most comfortable bed in the world, with a giant, fluffy comforter, a soft down pillow, and cool silky sheets. Propping himself up, he accepted the tray of eggs, toast, and a cup of orange juice from the air – Forrin had levitated it across the room to him. Ravenous after a long sleep, he dug in, relishing the gooey yolk of the egg in his mouth. "Fankf, Forrin," said Dag through a mouthful of eggs. " 'S r'lly goo'!"

The house-elf bowed and exited the room, whistling his way back to the kitchen to tidy up.

After breakfast, Dag dressed and acquainted himself with the house, the front yard, and the backyard. Uncle Dellior informed him that it was time to make the trip to Diagon Alley, for his school things, and so they got into his Volvo once again, on their way to the world of wizards. They drove to a nondescript string of shops, small and quaint, and Uncle Dellior stopped the car, parking next to an ugly green SUV. Walking up to a plain brick wall in between a hair-cuttery and an ice cream parlor, Uncle Dellior took a slim stick – His wand! thought Dag excitedly – from his pocket, searched the wall for a few moments, and lightly tapped on a brick. Instantly the wall before them melted away, revealing, to Dag's building exhilaration, another large street of shops, filled with people in odd robes, and strange noises everywhere. Dag looked to his left and right, but no one else seemed to have noticed the street that had appeared seemingly out of thin air. He turned his attention back to the spectacle before him, and his heart beat rapidly.

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Dag," his uncle said with a smile, resting a hand on Dag's shoulder.

They bought his books first, a one-stop-shop at the store Nooks Full O' Books, where there was every type of magical book available. The shop was like one extremely long hallway, twisting and turning and turning again, so that it seemed as if it shouldn't have been architecturally possible. Shelves set into the twisting walls held the bound books, the scrolls, and everything else. After being hypnotized into semi-consciousness by a large, mesmerizing tome, Dag was dragged out of the store by his uncle, to buy his school robes.

The Dream Seamstress, the robe shop, was supposedly of the highest standards, but the owner was not quite one-hundred-percent there, and she constantly got this faraway look in her eyes. After acquiring his four robes, Dag looked at the school list Uncle Dellior had entrusted him with. Next on the list was 'one medium pewter cauldron.'

He persuaded his uncle to let him get a collapsible cauldron ("You never know when it might come in handy, Uncle"), and it was with this purchase that he got his first glimpse of wizard money. He hadn't been paying attention at the other stores, but now he saw that the coins his uncle used to pay for the cauldron were of all different sizes and colors, and very different from the kind of coins he was used to.

"Am I going to need any money at school?" asked Dag as they walked away from the stall selling the cauldrons, meshing back into the stream of exotic shoppers.

"You might," Uncle Dellior responded absentmindedly, craning his neck to peer into the crowd ahead of them.

"But I don't have any of that kind of – "

His words were cut off as a gigantic Bang filled the air, followed by a series of smaller explosions. The mass of people in front of them scattered, a few of the stragglers being chased by playing cards sporting miniature wings, whirring like a hummingbird's. Dag let out a snort of laughter, his eyebrows rising in disbelief. A hunched old man with a bushy white beard wearing a large, dark green overcoat shuffled out of the shop from which the explosions had come.

Yanking off his beard (What the heck?), he threw it into the air and snapped his fingers. The tangle of white hair suddenly turned into a small butterfly net, which proceeded to zoom through the air, scooping up the flying cards. Once the scene was free of cards, the net hovered back to the old man – who was now a young man with no beard and a head of shining silver hair – and was gobbled up by a large pocket on the front of the overcoat. The silver-haired man, who looked to be about twenty, bowed and skipped back into the shop.

Applause echoed from all around, and Dag and Uncle Dellior joined in.

"Show off," muttered a voice from somewhere in the sea of claps.

"Uncle, do things like this happen all the time?" asked Dag, still clapping. Uncle Dellior wasn't listening, however, but was instead looking at his strangely marked watch and furrowing his brow. A few seconds after the furrowing, he shook his head worriedly.

"Look, I have something I have to take care of, Dag, I'm so sorry. Take this," his uncle said, dropping a jingling velvet bag onto Dag's open palm. "Buy everything you need, and a few things you don't. No need to worry about spending too much. Meet me in front of the book place when you're finished, got it?"

"Alright. Where are you going?" Uncle Dellior had already turned away, walking briskly across the street. "Wait! How do I use the money!" His uncle was already being pulled into the crowd.

"Gold ones are Galleons, silvers are Sickles, and bronzes are Knuts – the value going from greatest to least in that order!" Then he disappeared, and Dag was left alone on the busy streets of Diagon Alley, a small bag of odd coins in his hand.

How can I spend 'too much' with just this? There's almost nothing in here, he thought, giving the bag an experimental shake. Tinkle. Nope, not much at all.

He soon discovered that this was not the case, though – every time he used some of the coins, more appeared to take their place. Dag had bought everything on his list except for a wand when he ran into some trouble. "Ouch," he exclaimed, picking himself and his bags of merchandise up from where he had fallen. "Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't looking where I – "

"I kin' see ya' weren' bloody lookin' where ya' was goin', boy!" A creepy looking, thickset man stood in front of him, smelling like last week's lasagna, and looking like it too. He had more holes than teeth in his mouth, which was stretched in an angry snarl. "Next time, maybe I won' be lookin' where I'm pointin' mah wand!" he growled, withdrawing from his puke-colored cloak (Maybe that's what the smell is?) a gnarled black wand, and pointing it at Dag's forehead.

Oh no, this can't be happening, he thought, shock freezing him in place. I'm going to die, right here, and I haven't even done any magic yet!

"HEY UGLY, OVER HERE!" a voice called from the roof of the shop behind Dag. The big man raised his head to see who had spoken, a disgusted frown distorting his features. Not that they need much more distorting, Dag thought to himself. "SO THE PIG KNOWS HIS NAME, AYE?" The voice had a slight British accent, less so than the man, and sounded young and female. "RUN, MATE!" yelled the voice, referring to Dag. Dag ran.

The large man ignored him, choosing to focus on the rooftop from which the voice had come, where he was also pointing his wand.

"Watch out!" screamed Dag, fearful for his savior; but he needn't have worried. A high pitched whistling sound tore through the air, and all of the sudden the angry man was coughing his way through a cloud of thick gray smoke that had engulfed him. Dag stared, unsure of what he should do.

"Well, mate, don' just stand there, let's get outta' here." Dag whirled around to find a girl around his own age, with short, spiky blond hair, wearing cargo pants and a loose-fitting sweatshirt. She grabbed his arm and dragged him through the bunches of people in the street, ignoring insulted shouts of 'Well excuse you," and 'Hey, watch it," and "Ow!" They slowed to a stop outside of the silver-haired boy's store, panting, hands clutching their ribs, catching their breath.

"I'm Wincey – Wincey Arkington, nice ta' meetcha'," said the girl, sticking out a hand, grinning. Dag shook her small hand, still gasping for air.

"Maldagra Hartwood," he introduced himself, "but just call me Dag."

"And you can call me Wince, ev'rybody does. Close call back there, eh Dag?" She laughed, her eyes twinkling with amusement. "You here getting' your school stuff? I am."

"Yeah, I kind of just found out about all this magic stuff," he explained lamely, gesturing to their surroundings. "So I don't know much about, well, anything."

"Really? So you're family's all muggles? Ya'v never been here before?" Wincey – Wince, Dag reminded himself – looked interested.

"Uh, n-no, I haven't," Dag replied, feeling uncomfortable.

"Great! Lemme' show ya' around," said Wince excitedly, dashing off into the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley.

The rest of the morning flew past in a flurry of sprints from shop to shop, much buying of fun-looking objects, and a trip to the snack store. At half-past-two, Dag met Uncle Dellior out front Nooks Full O' Books. Wince had left to go back to her parents, promising to see him at Kings Cross – that was where the train to Hogwarts was.

"Hello, Dag, got everything?" greeted Uncle Dellior, relieving him of his bags of purchases. "Do you have your wand?"

"Uh..."

I am sorry that posts have been slow, midterms kill my time. The next chapter will be posted the 20th, so hang in there!