The underlined portion was taken from Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.
Chapter 12: School Shopping
Alfred Braxton sat on his floor in his house because he had no chairs. He had no chairs, no sofas, no nightstands, no tables, nor a bureau to hold his clothes, which he also didn't have. "I should go shopping," he thought out loud to himself. Gathering up some money he went out into Hogsmeade, only to find that no stores sold furniture, and no sold clothes, and only one sold food (which Braxton didn't have), so he set off for Diagon Alley. Having never bought any furniture or groceries before, he didn't know where to start. His first home he ever bought had come furnished and his roommate did all the shopping. He never bothered to ask where to buy food in the Wizarding world. As Braxton walked into the Leaky Cauldron, he considered asking Tom, the barkeep, where he could locate the goods he needed. He saw a vaguely familiar redheaded man sitting at a table reading the newspaper.
"Hey, Tom," Braxton causally said, "where would a fellow buy furni-" Braxton was interrupted by a voice not that far from him.
"Harry!" the redheaded man called. "How are you?"
A boy with jet black, messy hair walked into the bar with a redhaired boy and a girl. Braxton's heart began to beat faster, because he's seen this boy before. At night, in Little Whinging. That was Harry Potter.
"Fine, thanks," replied Harry as he and his two friends set down their shopping supplies by the other man.
"Sir?" Tom asked. "Where you going to ask something?"
"Er, what?" Braxton replied, having forgotton why he was talking to Tom. "Oh, yes, just a firewhiskey, please." Braxton took the whiskey over to a table right behind Harry.
"They still haven't caught him, then?" Harry asked.
"No," said the redhaired man, sounding extremely grave. "They've pulled us all off our regular jobs at the Ministry to try and find him, but no luck so far."
"Would we get a reward if we caught him?" the other boy asked. "It'd be good to get some more money-"
"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," the man said. "Black's not going to be caught by a thirteen-year-old wizard. It'll be the Azkaban guards who get him back, mark my words."
A redheaded woman entered the bar followed by three boys and a young girl. Braxton snapped his fingers. They were the Weasleys, that's how they looked familiar. Braxton remembered the newspaper article. Two boys who looked remarkably like each other started shaking Harry's hand and making a general ruckus. They must be twins, thought Braxton. The young girl was so red in the face that it matched her hair. The other boy was tall and pompous looking.
"Excuse me, sir," Harry asked Braxton, "could we borrow these chairs?" he said, he and his friend picking up the two said chairs.
"Of course, go right ahead," Braxton replied quite politely. His heart was beating rapidly. Does Harry know? He thought desperately. Does he believe that-
A chair falling broke his train of thought. He glanced around for the source of the noise to discover that one of the twins had pulled a chair from underneath the pompous boy while he was standing. Mrs. Weasley began yelling at the twins while everyone continued to snicker. All too soon, everyone was done with dinner and going up to bed. Braxton watched as the table was cleared of people, and then cleared of dishes. His stomach growled and he realized that having some dinner might be a good idea. He ordered some ham and another firewhiskey, absently staring at the tables where Harry and his friends had sat. The fire flickered lowly, nearly just hot cinders. And when he finished his food, Braxton went to the bar to pay. There was a small vial on the bar countertop, and Braxton picked it up to examine it.
He turned to face the stairs when he heard footsteps coming down from it. It was Harry, and he looked almost worried about something. Harry went to the tables where he had dinner, and looked half-heartedly for something.
"Looking for this?" Braxton asked, startling the boy. Braxton held up the small vial.
"Oh, yeah, thanks," Harry said walking over to take it.
"What exactly is it?" Braxton wondered, examining once more.
"Oh, it's a tonic, for my friend's rat," Harry replied quickly.
"Is it sick?" Braxton handed over the tonic.
"Yeah, I guess. It looks a little peaky," Harry shrugged. "It's been in his family for a really long time, so I just think it's old."
"Do you know how long?" Braxton inquired.
"Maybe nine, ten years. I don't really know for sure," Harry said.
"The life of a rat isn't one of the hot topics amongst you kids anymore?" Braxton said, completely serious.
Harry couldn't help but laugh a little bit at Braxton's facial expression. The slight laughter broke Braxton's serious look and he joined in. Harry's smile drooped a little bit, and Braxton became a little concern.
"Something eating you, kid?" he asked.
"No, not really," Harry said. He seemed a little wary at this stranger who was talking to him.
"You sure? I'm told I'm a good listener, if there's anything you want to get off your chest," Braxton said.
"Sir, I'm sorry, but I have to go, I need to finish packing," Harry said. Braxton nodded and paid for his food and drink before going home also.
The next day, while all everybody was rushing to get to London, Harry looked above the heads of the people in the bar, just out of curiosity, to see if the man he was talking to last was there.