Chapter Sixteen – Diagon Alley

Harry was finally able to send a reply to Millie's letters, which had grown steadily shorter and more irritable after the first had met with no response. Harry made sure to explain the mistake that had been made, and begged Mrs. Zabini to let Millie come visit. Blaise joined Harry's pleas, though they were hardly necessary, as Mrs. Zabini had no objection. She even suggested that Millie come spend the rest of the summer with them at Ascending Downs. Millie's parents were appealed to, and in no time at all, they had a response stating she could come the very next day.

Mr. and Mrs. Bulstrode were rather different than Harry had imagined. Millie took after her father, who was very tall and broad, with a large, square head atop even squarer shoulders. Surprisingly, Mrs. Bulstrode was very thin and bony, much like Harry's Aunt Petunia. She wasn't exactly pretty, but Harry got the impression that she was a woman who cared a great deal about appearances. To Harry's untrained eye, they were dressed in expensive clothes, though Mr. Bulstrode's formal-looking robes fit a little too tight across his chest and shoulders, as if he'd grown too big for them. He looked stiff and uncomfortable. Mrs. Bulstrode seemed more at ease in her slim-fitting gown, although Harry thought her clothes appeared a bit old-fashioned. There was a distinct smell of dust around them, and something similar to mothballs, causing Harry to suspect that these clothes were rarely worn, and had been dragged out specifically for this occasion.

Mrs. Zabini gave no indication of having noticed their slightly shabby appearance, though Blaise gave Harry a very pointed look, showing that the smell had not escaped his attention. Millie, thankfully, seemed like her normal self, if not a bit more surly than usual.

Mrs. Zabini invited everyone in to have a cup of tea. The Bulstrodes accepted graciously, and soon they were seated around the fireplace in the grand parlor. Harry and Blaise were doing their best to behave, when all they really wanted to do was drag Millie from the room and tell her everything they knew, and suspected, about Draco's plans to keep Harry from Hogwarts this year.

Instead, they silently sipped their tea while the adults made small talk.

"It's terribly kind of you to allow Millie to stay with us for the rest of the summer," Mrs. Zabini was saying, "Blaise has talked of nothing else but having his friends over for a visit."

"No trouble at all," Mr. Bulstrode replied. Harry was surprised to see his rather gruff face break into a warm smile, "We should be thanking you. Very kind of you to take in interest in our poor Millie."

Harry saw Millie's cheeks turn a light pink. She lowered her face and drank her tea in silence.

"I take an interest in all of Blaise's friends," Mrs. Zabini said.

"Yes, I see," noted Mrs. Bulstrode. Her gaze had rarely strayed from Harry since they first arrived, though she hadn't yet ventured to address him. Harry felt embarrassed as her eyes raked over his hairline, clearly searching for the scar hidden beneath his fringe.

She finally looked away, turning to address Mrs Zabini, "But it really is very kind of your son and... It's very kind of the boys to make friends with our Millie. We know she hasn't much to offer someone like..."

"Millie's great," Harry blurted. Millie was staring straight at her feet. She refused to raise her head.

Millie's father had carefully avoided looking at Harry as much as Mrs. Bulstrode had done nothing but stare. Now he turned his full attention to Harry for the first time, and Harry saw his warm smile turn to stone. The expression was still there, but Harry felt as if the grin did not quite reach his eyes.

"Oh, we know our girl is special! But that's just a parent's partiality. We know it can be difficult for other people to appreciate her merits. I daresay you boys took an interest in her out of pity. It's the best we can expect, but we hope in time you'll come to be good friends."

"We're already good friends," Harry asserted. "Millie is the coolest girl I know."

"Mum, can we go show Millie where she'll be sleeping?" Blaise asked suddenly. Harry got the impression that he wanted to distract everyone before things got serious.

Harry and Blaise jumped out of their seats before Mrs. Zabini could grant them permission. Millie was no less reluctant to rise and follow them. She gave her parents an awkward sort of curtsy that Harry found strangely formal, then she followed the boys out of the room without a backward glance.

Harry took a moment to compose himself. He was angry and embarrassed on Millie's behalf. His own treatment by the Dursleys had been dreadful, but at least he knew where he stood with them. Poor Millie had parents who at least seemed to mean well, but what good could they think to do by talking about her as if she wasn't there?

Harry didn't know what to say, and clearly Blaise was at a loss as well. They trekked up the staircase, saying not a word between them, and Harry knew there had to be some way to break the silence. He wanted to say something reassuring, but knowing Millie, she would resent any reference to the conversation they'd all just heard. It would be better to say nothing at all.

"Draco Malfoy sent his house elf to spy on me," Harry said abruptly as they reached the landing.

"He did what with who?" Millie asked, her downcast eyes immediately rising to meet Harry's green ones, searching for an explanation.

Pleased that his first attempt met with success, Harry proceeded to tell her about Dobby, and his plan to keep Harry away from Hogwarts.

"So that's why you didn't get any of my letters!" Millie exclaimed as they reached the guest bedroom that had been prepared for her. "But you could have written to me, you know. Then at least I would have known something was wrong."

"I wanted to write, but I couldn't. Hedwig was locked up."

"Locked up?"

"The Dursleys. My relatives," Harry said with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Another story."

"And you think Malfoy is trying to prevent you from joining the Quidditch team?" Millie asked.

Harry glanced at Blaise, the one who first suggested the idea. He shrugged his shoulders and said, "Well, that's the only thing I can think of. Why else would he be trying to keep me from school?"

"The elf said something about a plot right? A dangerous plot?"

"He was probably just trying to scare me," said Harry, "It didn't work. Nothing's scarier than the thought of living the rest of my days on Privet Drive."

Millie was soon called down to say a final farewell to her parents. Harry and Blaise watched from the top of the landing, gazing down into the foyer antisocially, despite Mrs. Zabini's efforts to coax them down to give a proper send-off. Millie's parents did not appear affronted. They merely gave their daughter a hug and waved at the two boys cheerfully, taking their leave without much ado. Harry thought they seemed rather glad to be rid of Millie. He wasn't sorry to see them go.

The day finally came when their Hogwarts letters arrived.

They were seated at the breakfast table, in the close, familiar nook that was often the place for meals when there was no company to be entertained in the large dining room. Mrs. Zabini was enjoying a cup of coffee while reading the Daily Prophet, and Harry and Blaise where having a game of kicking at each other under the table, before Harry accidentally kicked Millie, and she upset a tureen of orange juice. Mrs. Zabini was about to scold them all when three brown owls soared through the open window and deposited three identical envelopes in the laps of the children.

"I'd wondered when we'd be getting these," Mrs. Zabini said as Torsh whisked away the sticky orange mess with a snap of their fingers.

Blaise tore open his letter and tossed aside the first page carelessly. Harry was in the processes of opening his own, and saw that the first page contained the familiar reminder that start of term was September first, as if Harry would ever forget, and that they would be leaving on the Hogwarts Express from Platform 9 ¾.

The pages that Blaise glanced over contained their school supply list.

"Nearly every book on here is by some bloke named Gilderoy Lockhart!" Blaise exclaimed. "Would you listen to these titles? Wanderings with Werewolves, Gadding with Ghouls, Holidays with Hags... You'd think he was pals with every monster imaginable!"

"Wanderings with Werewolves, indeed," Mrs. Zabini said, plucking the list from Blaise's fingers and running her own eyes over the titles, "He makes them sound quite docile."

"We'll have to go to London, won't we mum?" Blaise asked, sounding excited, "We'll only be able to get all this stuff in Diagon Alley."

"Yes, I suppose there's no sense putting it off. And a long drive sounds nice," agreed Mrs. Zabini. She folded the letter back, sliding her fingers along the creases with a decisive gesture, "Finish your breakfast. I'll just get dressed and we'll be off shortly."

It must take great deal of work to look as lovely as Mrs. Zabini every day, as it was over an hour before they set off. Mrs. Zabini had changed into a long pumpkin orange gown over which she threw a light-weight, brown cloak. Harry had never much cared for the color orange, but he found that on Mrs. Zabini, it was stunning.

Diagon Alley was exactly the way Harry remembered. Harry raced his friends down the slightly crooked street to the shining white structure that was Gringott's bank. Millie had already been given an allowance from her parents to complete her school shopping, and but she tagged along with the others while Harry and Blaise stopped by their vaults. Harry had never felt any shame about the small fortune his parents had left him, but he was astounded to see just how much wealth lay hidden in the Zabini family vault. The amount of gold, precious gems, and other assorted finery packed into the large chamber was frankly obscene, and Harry found himself averting his eyes, as if ashamed should Blaise find him staring.

"Can I take this with me?" Harry heard him ask.

"Certainly not. That was Trey's."

"Yeah, hence, I want it!"

"And what exactly would you do with an enchanted sword?"

"Mum, aesthetic."

"Put it down. I don't even know what it does."

Harry heard a clatter as Blaise dropped whatever sword he was holding in frustration. He begged his mother to let him take a few more jewel-encrusted artifacts for "aesthetic reasons" before finally bagging up a healthy amount of galleons, and departing.

Mrs. Zabini insisted that their first stop be a salon. Harry was curious to see what a witch's salon would be like, though he felt a little embarrassed going there as a boy. Millie flat out refused to be a part of their trip, and stalked off to a nearby store to stock up on parchment and ink. It wasn't until Harry saw Blaise confidently stroll inside the alarmingly pink building that Harry followed suit.

Mrs. Zabini wanted them both to get their hair trimmed. Harry sat in a chair not much different than the chairs he'd seen in barber shops, though this was a bit more cushy and shaped a little like an armchair.

The witch assisting Harry had a difficult time of it. While Blaise laughed from his chair as the witch serving him used charms to make his hair grow longer and shorter in turns, Harry's tried potion after potion on his stubbornly untidy mane without success.

"I just don't understand it!" she finally cried after dumping nearly an entire bottle of "Sleekeazy's Hair Potion" on Harry's head, only to have it bounce right back to its original shape.

"I've tried nearly every trick I know! Is this some sort of curse you're under?"

Blaise, hearing the comment, laughed louder as Harry tried to stammer out his apologies for something he had no control over. Mrs. Zabini's eyes flicked in their direction while a little fairy painted intricate murals on her nails with a minuscule paintbrush.

"I suppose it can't be helped, Clara," she said, "Just give him a trim if you can and leave it be."

Clara didn't seem satisfied with this, though she complied with Mrs. Zabini's recommendation, she was still muttering about a possible hair tonic as Harry leapt from his chair and was disappointed to see little change in his reflection.

Blaise strolled over to him with a huge grin on his face. His hair had been neatly trimmed, and Harry was impressed to see the image of a serpent twisting its way along the side of his head. It shimmered a vibrant green when Blaise turned his head from side to side.

"Pretty cool, huh?" he asked, "The color is a charm. It'll fade in a few weeks. But I thought it might be good to start the school year with a little house pride."

Harry eyed the green snake enviously.

"Cool..." he breathed.

"Huh?" said Blaise, turning to look at him in confusion.

"I said cool!" Harry repeated, giving his friend a wide smile to hide his jealousy. He wished his hair were more manageable. Perhaps he should have asked Clara to crop his short like Blaise, but then again, he was sure he'd look ridiculous if he tried a similar style.

Blaise trotted over to his mother, who rolled her eyes at the sight of the green serpent, but said nothing against it, perhaps thinking the damage had already been done. As she was still having her nails painted, and the little fairy doing the work was busily mixing new colors on an impossibly small palette, it didn't seem she would be done any time soon, Blaise begged leave to go shopping with Harry and Millie alone. Mrs. Zabini used her free hand to pass the school supply list to Blaise, telling him she would meet with him outside Florian Fontescue's ice cream parlor.

Free to wander the streets, Harry and Blaise found Millie seated at the very ice cream parlor where they'd promised to meet Mrs. Zabini. She was sitting at a small bistro table outdoors, eating a sundae of a strange light-purple color. Seated in her lap was a large, long-haired black cat.

"Hello, who's this?" Blaise asked as he took a seat opposite Millie.

"I just bought him at the pet shop," said Millie, "My parents said I could take a pet with me to Hogwarts this year. I saw him in the window and thought he was perfect. I think I'll call him Mammon."

The cat was staring fixedly at Harry, and Harry stared back at the cat. He wasn't sure if "perfect" was the word he'd use to describe him. Ever since the days when the Dursleys would leave him with his cat-loving neighbor, Mrs. Figg, Harry had developed a sort of aversion to cats. And as far as cats went, Mammon was an unsettling creature. Its fur was black as pitch, its features nearly lost in the darkness of its coat. Only its eyes stood out, bright and golden, as it continued to stare at Harry. Finally, it opened its mouth, and Harry saw a flash of white and pink as it hissed evilly at him.

"You shouldn't stare, Harry. Cat's don't like that."

Harry nearly stated that if they didn't like it, then they shouldn't stare themselves, but decided against it.

Blaise suddenly cried out, "Not fair! Harry's got Hedwig, and now you've got a cat. I want a pet, too!"

"What about Mephistopheles?" Harry asked, referring to the Zabini's owl.

"That's mum's owl. He's alright, but she won't send him with me. She needs him for all her correspondence."

Something about the way he said it made Harry think he'd had this conversation with his mother already. Millie suggested he simply ask for his own owl, and Harry agreed. Mrs. Zabini did not seem the kind of mother to refuse this request from her son.

Blaise decided he would ask as soon as she was done at the salon, and the trio amused themselves with ordering more ice cream than necessary, and stuffing their faces until Mrs. Zabini appeared.

"Mum! I want an owl!" Blaise said the moment she arrived.

They were not disappointed. Mrs. Zabini agreed to the scheme without argument, merely stating that Blaise would have to be responsible for the animal, taking care of its feeding and cleaning and the like. Blaise agreed, privately sharing that care for the owls was done at Hogwarts by house-elves, and he would simply ask Torsh to care for his pet during holidays.

Millie followed their group back to Eelops Owl Emporium, which housed a number of other familiars, rather than just owls. Millie began browsing the shelves for a collar or something that would suit her cat, while Mrs. Zabini and Blaise engaged the shopkeeper in a discussion of different owl breeds, and their various benefits.

Harry stood near them for a moment, until his attention was drawn to one wall of the shop. It was completely filled by shelves, and on those shelves were various glass tanks of different sizes and odd shapes. Harry found himself moving closer to peer inside these strange compartments. Several were filled with frogs and toads in every color imaginable. There were bright blue poison dart frogs and large toads with orange eyes and bumpy green skin. One circular tank housed a particularly large, nasty looking spider, until Harry realized the curve of the glass merely magnified its size to monstrous proportions, and the spider he saw was actually a snack for the bearded dragon within. Harry smiled at the reptile, and continued to browse the shelves, peering at the assortment of amphibians and reptiles within.

He stopped at a small rectangular tank, where a spotted python was sunbathing under an enchanted red orb, which was giving off a strong heat. The snake lifted its head to peer at Harry as he approached, and Harry felt an odd sense of deja vu.

"What are you looking at?" asked a voice over his shoulder.

Harry jumped in surprise, striking Blaise across the shoulder for startling him. Blaise laughed, then spied the snake that was now slowly uncurling itself to get a better look at the two young wizards.

"Oh, cool!" Blaise exclaimed. He dipped his hand directly into the open top of the tank and pulled the snake from inside. Harry thought this was a rather bold move, and cautioned Blaise to be careful of a bite, but the snake did not appear to mind. It coiled its muscular body around Blaise's hand and wrist, peering at the two of them calmly.

It's small, forked tongue flicked out of its mouth, smelling them.

"He's cute!" Blaise said, obviously delighted with the find. "What do you think? Think mum will let me get a snake instead of an owl?"

"I dunno. Are students allowed to bring snakes to school? I thought it was just owl, cat, or toad."

"If Weasley can bring his mangy-looking rat to school, I don't see why I can't have a snake."

Harry shrugged, then directed his attention to the python.

"Hello there," he said in greeting. The snake had been staring at him, and Harry made sure to blink rapidly. He wasn't sure if snakes disliked being stared at as much as cats. "Would you like to come to school with us?"

"Uh, Harry? What are you doing?"

Harry glanced up at Blaise, who was staring at him with wide eyes.

"I was just saying hello," Harry said.

"You were hissing."

"I was?" Harry asked, shocked.

"Do you often talk to snakes?"

"Well no. Not often. I did talk to a snake at the zoo once. I accidentally made the glass disappear and it escaped. But that's not that strange, is it? I mean, I bet a lot of wizards can do it."

"Not really, Harry," said Blaise, looking impressed, "Actually, it's a really rare ability. Salazar Slytherin was a parselmouth. He was famous for it. That's why, you know..."

He pointed to the green serpent etched into his hair.

"A parselmouth?" Harry repeated. He didn't need an explanation to guess the meaning of the word.

Blaise broke into a grin. "This is too cool! Do the snakes talk back to you?"

Harry looked back at the python in Blaise's hand, deciding to give it another go. "Um, I'm Harry Potter, and this is Blaise Zabini. Do you have a name?"

The snake flicked it's tongue out once more before giving a slow shake of its head.

"It says it doesn't have a name."

"Ask it what it would like to be called!" Blaise demanded excitedly.

Harry asked, and the snake stared at him for a moment, as if thinking. To Harry's surprise, it spoke back to him. He could hear the words clearly, as if someone were whispering into his ear, but below that, he could also hear a faint hiss that was the snake's true voice.

Whatever you choose...

"It says you can choose a name," Harry said to Blaise.

His friend was now bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, clearly elated. He dashed over to his mother, who was still in deep conversation with the shopkeeper about owls.

"Mum! I like this one. Can I?"

"Whatever you like, dear," said Mrs. Zabini, distracted by the sight of a new birdcage she was eyeing for Mephistopheles.

The shopkeeper broke away from admiring Mrs. Zabini long enough to spot the snake in Blaise's hands.

"Ah! The Eastern Noose Python! Your son has excellent taste, madam," he said.

Mrs. Zabini gave a start and turned to look at the snake in Blaise's hands. She gave him a withering look as she said, "Blaise... I thought you said you wanted your own owl?"

"You did say I could have whatever I like," Blaise reminded her, "And besides, if I want to send anything, I can just borrow Hedwig, right Harry?"

Harry nodded his head in agreement. He was starting to get excited by the idea of having an animal around that he could converse with.

Mrs. Zabini rolled her eyes heavenward and asked the shopkeeper, "Do they get very big, these Noose Pythons?"

"Oh no, not so very big," said the shopkeeper unconvincingly, "But they are whip smart. Very useful creatures to have as one's familiar. And particularly independent creatures. They require very little maintenance, and are quite capable of feeding themselves."

Mrs. Zabini directed a stern gaze toward Blaise as she paid the shopkeeper and ordered the requisite supplies for the snake's care.

"If that thing eats my owl, I'll transfigure it into a belt."

"He won't! He'll be good!"

Millie joined them a moment later and directed a surprised glance at the snake, who was happily coiling itself around Blaise's neck. Her look of surprise quickly evolved into one of suspicion, and she hugged Mammon close to her chest.

"You better keep that thing away from my cat," she warned.

"Relax, Millie. He's just a baby. Your cat is like, ten times bigger than him."