Harry Potter doesn't belong to me, it belongs to J. K. Rowling.
Some of the text is taken directly from the books. That text is in bold.
This chapter takes place in the book "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone".
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The next morning, unusually, Iris woke up after her brother had already gotten up. As she was stretching her shoulders after the night on the floor, she heard Hagrid conversing with her brother.
"Um - Hagrid?"
"Mm?"
"I haven't got any money - and you heard Uncle Vernon, he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."
"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "Do'ye think yer parents didn't leave yeh and yer sister anything?"
"But if their house was destroyed -"
"They didn't keep their gold in their house, boy! Nah, the first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank."
"Wizards have banks?"
"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."
"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. As a matter o' fact, gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business. He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you - gettin' things from Gringotts - knows he can trust me, see."
Soon after, Iris and her brother packed up their things and followed Hagrid out on to the rock. They travelled first by the boat Uncle Vernon had hired, then by a train. While on the train Hagrid encouraged them to take out their Hogwarts acceptance letters and read the second page. Having read it already the previous day but wanting to refresh her memory, Iris followed Harry in unfolding the second page. It read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
sets of plain work robes (black)
plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)
First-year students will require:
Please note that all pupil's 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 Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric 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
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
Yours sincerely,
Lucinda Thomsonicle-Pocus
Chief Attendant of Witchcraft Provisions
The second page was very interesting. Iris couldn't wait to be able to read The Standard Book of Spells and A History of Magic. It just sounded so wonderful! Learning to cast magic at all sounded wonderful!
"Can we buy all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud, only just having finished reading the page being a slower reader than Iris.
"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.
Travelling through London with Hagrid was rather interesting but strange. Hagrid constantly complained about the train's seats being too small and loudly wondered how "Muggles" get anywhere without magic.
"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, Iris was pretty sure she would have overlooked it. 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. Hagrid steered them 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 bald. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; 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 hands on Iris and Harry's shoulders.
"Good Lord," said the barman, peering at Harry, "is this - can this be -?"
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."
Then there was a great scraping of chairs and, next moment, everyone in the Leaky Cauldron rushed to shake hands with Iris' brother.
"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."
"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud." And so on and so forth.
A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.
"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Iris, 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-Defense 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 your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.
But the other wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harry to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. Seeing all that, Iris couldn't bring herself to be jealous of Harry's fame - being mobbed by strangers for merely entering a pub wasn't the sort of fame she wanted. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble. "Must get on - lots ter buy. Come on, Iris, Harry." Hagrid led them through the bar and into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a dustbin and a few weeds.
The giant grinned at Harry.
"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh, you are famous. Even Professor Quirrell was trembling ter meet yeh - mind, he's usually tremblin'."
"Is he always that nervous?"
"Oh, yeah, poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studying 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 - now where's me umbrella?"
Hagrid tapped several bricks in the wall in some kind of pattern and the bricks moved to reveal a magical street. It was full of people dressed in cloaks and wearing pointed hats.
"Cauldrons?" Harry asked looking at a shop named Potage's Cauldron Shop, whose windows were indeed filled with cauldrons.
"Yeah, you'll be needing one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."
"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 a swarthy-faced, long-fingered fellow.
"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps towards him.
As the goblin bowed them inside, so did Iris bow him back. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:
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.
"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 Iris yet again bowed back, and then 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 the twins made for the counter.
"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry and Ms. Iris Potter vaults."
"You have their keys, sir?"
"Got them 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.
"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up two golden keys.
The goblin looked at them closely.
"That seems to be in order."
"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said the giant importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."
The goblin read the letter carefully.
"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to the 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 a vault seven hundred and thirteen?" asked Harry.
"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "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. 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. One could try but never succeed in remembering all the turns the cart took - left, right, right, left, middle fork and so on, and so forth. The cart seemed to know its way, because Griphook wasn't steering.
During the ride Iris registered that Harry and Hagrid were talking but she wasn't listening - she was enjoying the rush of air into her face and the weightless feeling. 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.
"Vault 689, Mr. H. Potter's vault." the goblin announced.
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 coins.
"All yours, Harry," smiled Hagrid.
"What kind of coins are these? And what is their worth?" asked Iris the goblin.
"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine bronze Knuts to a Sickle."
"Thanks."
Hagrid helped Harry pile some into a bag.
"Right, that should be enough fer a couple of terms, we'll keep the rest safe fer yeh. Now, to Iris' vault."
They went back to the cart and rode even deeper. After some dozen turns, the cart stopped and the goblin announced, "Vault 701, Ms. I. Potter's vault."
Following her brother's example, Iris piled up some money in a bag taken from the side of the vault.
"Vault seven hundred and thirteen, now, please, and, can we go more slowly?" Hagrid asked Griphook.
"One speed only."
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 foolishly 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 the goblin.
"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.
"About one every ten years," said Griphook, with a rather nasty grin.
Inside the vault was but a single, small brown package lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat.
"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep my mouth shut," said Hagrid.
One wild cart ride later, they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts.
"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, Iris, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? Hate them Gringotts carts." He did look a bit sick, so both Harry and Iris entered Madam Malkin's shop without him.
Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.
"Hogwarts, dears?" she said.
The twins nodded and were ushered to the back of the shop where there were several footstools. Madam Malkin stood Iris on a footstool, slipped a long robe over her head and began to pin it to the right length. When Madam Malkin announced, "That's you done, my dear," Iris climbed down and paid. With Hagrid still gone and Harry taking his turn to get measured for robes, she decided to leave the clothes' shop and go ahead to the bookstore. Before leaving, she turned to her brother and told that she was going to the bookstore they saw on their way to Gringotts and asked whether he would like for her to buy his books too.
The bookshop called Flourish and Blotts was magnificent. 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.
Iris went to first collect her and Harry's course books before picking up other books she would like to buy. Having noticed that The Standard Book of Spells were a series of seven books, she guessed that each book was meant for each of the seven grades at Hogwarts and immediately grabbed The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 2) and The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 3) in addition to Grade 1, which she was told to purchase, for reading ahead. The next book to catch her attention was titled Easy Spells for a Clean Household. This book caught her attention largely because Hagrid had informed them that Hogwarts was a castle and such a book might be useful. It cost her two galleons, whereas each Book of Spells cost only a galleon. The last book she bought was called Hogwarts: A History. She chose it wishing to be more informed about the castle and school she was going to attend. As Harry wasn't much of a reader, Iris didn't search for any additional books for him, though she did purchase with her own money Quidditch Through the Ages, hoping that this book about a wizarding sport would be interesting for Harry. The last one was cheaper than their textbooks - it cost 14 sickles and 3 knuts.
After paying for her and Harry's books, Iris exited the bookstore and went back to the clothes' store. She got back just in time to see Harry leaving Madam Malkin's, Hagrid waiting for him.
"Harry, here are your books! And this one is a gift from me for your birthday." said Iris giving him his Hogwarts textbooks and Quidditch Through the Ages.
"What's Quidditch?" Harry asked.
"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know - not knowing about Quidditch!"
"It's our sport, wizard sport. It's like - like soccer in the Muggle world - everyone follows Quidditch - played up in the air on broomsticks and there are four balls - sorta hard ter explain the rules."
They bought pewter cauldrons and two nice sets of brass scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then, they visited the apothecary, 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 and Iris, Iris was examining unicorn hairs, each of which cost 10 galleons.
Outside the apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry's list.
"Just yer wands left - oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh birthday presents."
"You don't have to -" Harry started to say with a red face.
"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get for each of you an animal. Not toads, they went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at - an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get you owls. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer post an' everythin'."
Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Iris now carried a striking-looking screech owl in a cage while Harry carried a cage with a snowy owl. While Iris had thanked Hagrid two times - once while choosing an owl and the second time when they were leaving the Owl Emporium, Harry 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 Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now - only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."
The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door of the shop read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. 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. There were thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. The very dust and silence here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry and Iris 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.
"Good afternoon," Iris said in response to the man's greeting.
"Ah, yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "Iris Potter. Both of you have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." Mr. Ollivander moved closer to the twins.
"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." Mr. Ollivander had come so close to Harry that he and her brother were almost nose to nose.
"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 obvious 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.
"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 as he rather obviously gripped his pink umbrella very tightly.
"Hmmm," said Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now… Ms. Potter, first. Let me see."
He pulled a long tape measure with silver marking out of his pocket.
"Which is your wand arm?"
"The right one."
"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Iris 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, Ms. 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. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."
Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.
"Right then, Ms. Potter. Try this one. Beech-wood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Iris tried - but Mr. Ollivander took it out of her hand almost at once. After several other wands, Mr. Ollivander gave her a wand of pine with a dragon heartstring. Almost at once she felt comfortable heat seemingly radiating from the wand. She raised her wand a few inches and brought it swishing down, the wand shooting out blue and silver sparks. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo!"
"Do the wand woods tell something about their owners? And what are pine wand's strengths?" asked Iris, having been wondering about that ever since she realized that different woods meant having different strength in magic, like mahogany's affinity for transfiguration or willow's for charms.
"Well, now, Ms. Potter, pine wand, it is said, always chooses an independent, individual master who may be perceived as a loner, intriguing and, perhaps, mysterious. Pine wands enjoy being used creatively, and unlike some others, will adapt unprotestingly to new methods and spells. Most of us wandmakers believe that pine wands usually choose owners who are destined for long lives. The pine wand is, also, one of those that is most sensitive to non-verbal magic."
"That's really interesting. I hope I will fulfill the wand's potential." said Iris, pleasantly surprised by the description.
"Now, Mr. Potter." Iris didn't watch what wands her brother was being handed, trying to connect to her wand like she did on their first contact. She was woken out of her trance by Mr. Ollivander's cry.
"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. 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." 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 - terrible, yes, but great."
As silence descended upon the shop, Iris tried to ease the air by asking what Harry's wand wood meant.
"Mr. Potter's wand wood is holly. Holly is one of rarer kinds of wand woods; traditionally considered protective, it works most happily for those who may need help overcoming a tendency to anger and impetuosity. Wood from Holly trees has magical healing properties and is thought to repel evil. At the same time, holly wands often choose owners who are engaged in some dangerous and often spiritual quest.
"It sounds accurate to me," Iris teased Harry, hinting at his temper and foolhardiness.
After paying for their wands and leaving Ollivanders, Iris told Hagrid that they needed to buy trunks for schools since it was doubtful whether the Dursleys had them and if they had, whether they would allow them to be used by the twins. In Biggins' Bags and Trunks, Iris and Harry found a trunk each, Iris choosing to take a steamer trunk whose insides had been expanded to be twice as big as they should be, Harry choosing a more simple trunk - a standard one, with two compartments, only one of which was expanded. In addition, Iris bought an expanded school bag, so there would be no need to carry her school supplies in her hands and encouraged Harry to buy one too.