Harry shuddered awake early the next morning and stared at the unfamiliar ceiling as the voice from his dream and the green light at the edge of his vision faded away. He pulled the blanket around himself and sat up in the bed. He looked at the floor and noticed a sock and, confused, Harry pulled back the blanket and saw he only had one sock on. He looked over at Dudley and held back a laugh – despite the cold his cousin had kicked off all of his blankets and lay spread-eagled on his bed. He noticed the green icing around Dudley's mouth and frowned and then the memories from last night hit him and Harry hurried around the room, almost falling over himself as he tried to put his sock on.

He walked into the main room and froze. Sunlight poured in through the large window and the floor and dining table in the middle of the room felt incredibly inviting. At the far end of the room, collapsed on the sofa, was Hagrid. The cold of the tiles slowly seeped through Harry's socks as he stood there and remembered the things he had learned a few hours ago.

There was a sudden tapping noise and Harry's heart jumped. He looked over at the window and rubbed his eyes. He looked again and stepped forward, smiling involuntarily as he felt the warmth of the sunlit titles.

'There's an owl at the window,' Harry said aloud. 'With a newspaper.'

'Let him in,' mumbled Hagrid, and then he shot up, wide awake. He grabbed his coat from the floor and began rummaging through the pockets.

'What's wrong?' asked Harry.

'I forgot. In all the talking, I forgot.'

'Forgot what?'

Hagrid pulled out a ruffled owl and held up the parchment he had written on hours earlier. 'Forgot to send this.' He hurried over to the window and let the owl out while letting the newspaper-carrying one in. He pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins and counted out five little bronze ones. 'These are Knuts,' he said, holding them out for Harry to see.

'Knuts?'

'Wizard coins.' The owl held out its leg and Hagrid put the money in the small leather pouch tied to it, and then it flew out the still-open window.

'What would you like for breakfast, Hagrid,' said Aunt Petunia as she walked into the room. Hagrid gaped and mumbled and looked at Harry and then back at Aunt Petunia and then shrugged. 'Eggs and bacon it is, then,' she said, smiling.

The aroma quickly filled the room and the two remaining Dursleys soon joined them.

'We've got a lot to do today, I expect,' said Uncle Vernon, 'best to eat well before we get too busy.'

Hagrid nodded and smiled as Aunt Petunia ladled some beans onto his plate.

'We'll have ter go to the bank first,' he said, looking at Mr Dursley carefully.

'What for?' asked Uncle Vernon, 'we have money set aside for Harry.'

'Well, it's, er… it's wizard money.' He dug into another of his pockets and placed some coins on the table. 'Different to Muggle money, see?' He pointed at them and said, 'the gold one is a Galleon. Seventeen of these silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine of these 'ere Knuts to a Sickle.'

Uncle Vernon nodded, his moustache waving on its own, and asked, 'And is the exchange-rate between our money and yours good?'

Hagrid looked at him and his mouth opened and closed a couple of time before he said, 'I don' know 'bout that. Never thought about it.'

'But what about Muggle-borns like Lily?' asked Aunt Petunia. 'I'm sure we went to Gringotts in order to change some money.'

'Yer know 'bout Gringotts, too?' Hagrid said, stunned.

Aunt Petunia leaned forward and whispered to Harry and Dudley, 'if we're lucky we may get to go to the vaults. Lily told me stories but I don't think she ever got to go.'

'How come?' asked Harry.

'I think because the vaults belong to old wizard families and Lily wasn't from them. But maybe after she married James…' she sat back, lost in thought and memory, and the boys looked over at Hagrid as he layered rashers of bacon onto some toast and made himself a sandwich. 'There are goblins, though,' Aunt Petunia said suddenly.

'Goblins are real?' breathed Dudley.

'Never mess with goblins,' Hagrid said loudly, as he covered his mouth. He swallowed and said, 'Yeh'd be mad to try and rob Gringotts. Safest place in the world for anything yeh want ter keep safe – 'cept maybe Hogwarts. But d'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything, Harry?'

'Well…' Harry said slowly, 'if their house was destroyed—'

'They didn' keep their gold in the house, boy!'

'Gold?'

'The Potters 're a really old wizarding family.'

'But… why didn't anyone give any of that to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon? It could have helped them with-'

Uncle Vernon shook his head. 'Wouldn't have accepted it, Harry. No. If there's gold, as Hagrid here says, then that's your inheritance and what you can use later, when you're older.'

'But—'

Uncle Vernon turned in his seat and faced his nephew. 'Harry, we haven't always done right by you,' he said, and he tugged on the large sleeve of Harry's jumper. 'We've tried, and I hope you will believe that,' he smiled when Harry nodded, 'but we also… we also tried to keep things about you a secret. About the magic and… and about the truth. We never wanted to put you in the room under the stairs, it's just… anyway, you're our son, you're Dudley's brother, and while I couldn't send you to Smeltings like I had wanted, I would like to help with this Hogwarts place, if you would let me.'

'There's no need for tha', Dursley, Harry's parents—'

'Aren't here, Hagrid.' Uncle Vernon reached into his pocket and pulled out a creased and folded parchment. 'This is the list of things Harry needs. All I'm asking is that we be allowed to provide these for him for his first year. After that, it's up to him.' He squinted at the bottom of the list as if to check that something was still there and said, 'I'm still not sure about this broomstick thing, though. Always thought that was just for witches.'

Hagrid's laugh filled the room. 'Wizards've got to travel somehow, too, Dursley.'

'So,' said Aunt Petunia, 'shall we get ready and head to Diagon Alley?'


Much to everyone's astonishment, Hagrid had rowed their boat from the Calf of Man to Liverpool, near the museum, in less than fifteen minutes. 'No point gettin' tha ferry,' he said, 'take too long', and no one argued with him on that. From Liverpool, after Mr Dursley had withdrawn some money, they took the train in to London and, for two hours, Aunt Petunia asked Hagrid all sorts of questions 'to know how much has changed and so Harry can have an understanding'. By the time they arrived at Euston station Hagrid found that he was quite fond of Mrs Petunia Evans Dursley.

Harry had been to London before – the Dursleys would take the boys to see the Christmas lights every year and, now and then, a musical – but he had never seen Aunt Petunia look so excited. Hagrid led the way and seemed to know where he was going but Uncle Vernon, Harry felt, seemed to be a little sad. Dudley was quiet throughout the journey, although he did laugh when Hagrid got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small.

'I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic,' he said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops. They walked the rest of the way in silence, already conscious of the stares they were getting because of Hagrid's size, but Harry and Dudley both noted that there was nowhere around them that looked like it had anything to do with magic. There were bookshops and hamburger restaurants but nothing that looked like it could sell you a magic wand.

'This is it,' said Hagrid, coming to a halt. 'The Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place.'

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub and, if Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harry and the others would have walked right on by and would never have noticed it. As it was, the Dursleys looked at where Hagrid was pointing, and frowned. All they could see was a bookshop on one side and a record shop on the other.

'I was afraid o' this,' Hagrid said softly. 'Muggles can't see it. Stops them from coming in, see?'

'What if,' asked Uncle Vernon, 'what if we held hands with you and followed you in? Petunia's been to Diagonally before, so it's possible for us to, isn't it?'

'Can't hurt,' said Hagrid, and he smiled and held out his massive hand.

The Dursleys gasped as a misty veil seemed to be lifted and, right in front of them, they saw the dark windows of an old pub. Hagrid tugged on the door and the sound of chatter poured out. They all stepped in and Aunt Petunia shuddered a little. For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. The chattering stopped and Harry could feel everyone's eyes on them. Hagrid waved and everyone around them waved and smiled at him. They all seemed to know him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, 'The usual, Hagrid?'

Hagrid shook his head and guided Harry and the Dursleys through the pub and over to the door to the courtyard.

A whisper started to spread as they walked: 'It's Harry Potter. Look. It can't be. It is.' For the first time in a long time, Harry wished he was invisible.

The old bartender hurried out from behind the bar and seized Harry's hand, tears in his eyes. He gasped as Hagrid gently prised his hands off Harry's. 'Sorry, Tom, no time for dillydallying today.'

More and more people began to crowd around them and reach out to them, with some of them tugging on Mr and Mrs Dursley and thanking and praising them for being so kind and good for looking after Harry. Seeing Mrs Dursleys cheeks redden, Hagrid stood taller and broader and coughed loudly, and the eager and excited voices faltered and faded to soft murmurs and nervous smiles.

Harry, without meaning to, held on to Mr Dursleys arm. They kept trying to move forward and thanked and nodded and shook hands with everyone who approached them. Flashes of memory danced through Harry's mind as he found himself recognising some of the individuals in the throng, with their strange hats and capes, as people he had seen while shopping in town or playing in the park and he wondered how many of them had watched him growing up.

Clearing the way, Hagrid held out his arm, holding the crowd back, and bowed a little at Aunt Petunia, 'Ma'am,' and she giggled and shushed him. He directed them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds. He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.

Harry and the Dursleys stepped back as the wall shivered and the bricks began to move. Before they could even look at each other, an archway had appeared and, beyond it, they saw a mixture of cobbled stones like the ones at St Katherine's Dock or the Piazza at Covent Garden.

Holding the boys' hands, Mrs Dursley stepped over the dusty threshold as Hagrid nudged Mr Dursley and, chuckling, bid them a warm welcome to Diagon Alley. Harry and Dudley quickly looked back over their shoulders and saw the archway shrink back into a solid wall.

'First stop, Gringotts,' said Hagrid.

Harry, Dudley and Uncle Vernon kept looking around in every direction as they followed Hagrid. Aunt Petunia nodded at the various store signs as if checking them off a list she had in her head. The boys caught sight of several other boys their age, with their noses pressed against a window. Harry and Dudley tried to push themselves in closer to get a look at what had so awed the boys and, seeing the display of brooms, shrugged their shoulders, unimpressed but still curious.

'They really use broomsticks,' whispered Dudley, and they both yelped when Uncle Vernon grabbed their shoulders and pulled them out.

'We'll look around later,' he said, 'don't worry.' He pointed at a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. 'I think we're supposed to go there.'

Hagrid and Aunt Petunia were waiting at the foot of the stone steps and, above, standing beside the bronze doors that shone as if aflame and wearing a uniform that reminded the boys of hotel porters at fancy London hotels, was a goblin. It was shorter than Harry, barely coming to his chest, and the long fingers and feet tugged at an uncomfortable memory of a movie Aunt Marge had forced them to watch when she had babysat them a few years ago. He bowed as they walked inside. In front of them was a second pair of doors, made of silver. A strange light shimmered and glistened as they stepped closer and Mrs Dursley and Hagrid, quiet throughout, stepped aside and watched as the others realised that words were engraved in the doors and Mr Dursley read them aloud.

'What more could there be?' asked Mr Dursley when he finished reading the poem a second time.

'More than you want to know,' said Hagrid, 'and likely more than they will ever say.'

Dudley squinted at the goblins by the massive door and dug his hands deep into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out and touching their skin. The ceiling of the enormous hall they entered was so high that Mr Dursley staggered backwards a little as he craned his neck a little too far. Stretching down one wall, attending to scores of people, were dozens of goblins dressed in strange and somewhat uncomfortable-looking suits, and Dudley whispered to Harry, 'a wooden leg named 'Smith'', and Harry grinned and whispered back, 'what was the name of his other leg?'.

Mr Dursley stepped forward and said to Hagrid, 'Remember, we're going to exchange some money,' and Hagrid nodded and lead him over to a counter.

'Afternoon,' he said to the goblin, 'we've come ter exchange some Muggle-money.'

The goblin looked over his spectacles and said, 'Muggle-born?'

'No,' said Hagrid. 'It's for Harry Potter.'

The goblin looked from Hagrid to Mr Dursley and then leaned to the side and looked over at Harry and Dudley. 'Mr Potter has a safe, does he not?'

'He does,' said Mr Dursley, 'but—'

The goblin sighed and gestured for Hagrid and Mr Dursley to follow him. They waved at Harry, Dudley, and Aunt Petunia and hurried through a door.

'Is it how you remembered?' Harry asked his Aunt.

'It is,' she said. 'I used to look at maps of London to see if I could find this place. Maps and photographs, but there was never anything there. Other buildings, other roads, and other places, but here… magic,' and she sighed.

A few minutes later and Hagrid and Uncle Vernon came back out of the room. Uncle Vernon had two pouches in his hands and Hagrid was patting at the numerous pockets of his coat. Uncle Vernon held out one of the pouches and said, 'This is for today's shopping. I think it should be enough. This one is for your school year. Hopefully.' He gave the pouch to Harry who then promptly gave it to Aunt Petunia.

'Ah ha!' whispered Hagrid, holding out a tiny golden key. 'Knew I had it here somewhere.' He crouched down in front of Harry and took his hand. 'This is the key to yer vault. Yer can ask the goblins to check it if yer want. I've got to get something from another vault for Dumbledore. Hogwarts business. You can all head out and start shopping and—'

'We should probably stay with you,' said Aunt Petunia quickly.

'Yer sure?' asked Hagrid, and everyone nodded.

'Okay, follow me then.' He walked back to the counter and held out a letter and they watched as he puffed out his chest proudly and the goblin poured over the letter. The goblin glanced to its right and a second, older, goblin ambled over and looked at the letter. It nodded at Hagrid and then signalled for a third goblin to approach.

'I take it, Mr Hagrid,' said the older goblin, 'that your companions would like to look at their vault, too?'

'If it wouldn't be too much trouble,' said Mr Dursley.

'Very good. Griphook here will look after you.' He shuffled to the side as a small door opened and Griphook stepped through to the main lobby. As they turned to follow the goblin, they all gasped when they saw the older goblin standing in front of them with his long hands clasped on its chest. 'I apologise for the discomforting surprise,' he said softly, ignoring the looks from a half-dozen goblins as they stopped what they were doing, 'but I just wanted to say that your sister was a very kind woman and someone I will always hold in high regard.'

'You knew Lily?' whispered Mrs Dursley.

'I regret not having been able to express my condolences to you before but please accept them now.'

'Of course. Thank you.'

The goblin bowed and gestured for them to follow Griphook, and a murmur filled the room as the watching-goblins quickly got back to work.

'There's so much about Lily's life I don't know about,' said Mrs Dursley, and Harry felt his throat tighten a little as he watched his aunt dab at her eyes with her handkerchief.

When they stepped through the doorway, Harry and the Dursleys found themselves in a stone passageway that reminded them of the tunnels under Nottingham Castle. Flaming torches lined the walls but they didn't flicker when Hagrid let out a loud breath.

'Are the flames not real?' asked Mr Dursley.

'Put your hand in and see for yourself,' snarled Griphook.

'Perhaps another time,' said Mr Dursley quickly. He then noticed a set of railway tracks on the floor behind the goblin. 'This is why you were looking forward to the vaults?' Uncle Vernon whispered to Aunt Petunia.

'And the dragon,' she replied, and he nodded, paused, looked at her again, and mouthed 'Dragon?' and she smiled and patted his arm.

Griphook whistled and two small carts came hurtling down the tracks towards them. They climbed in – Harry and Dudley in the first one, with Hagrid, and Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia in the second on.

'Vault seven hundred and thirteen,' said Griphook, and they were off.

The carts twisted left and right and up and down and upside down and round and round, and Harry and Dudley clung to the thin bar in front of them so tightly their knuckles turned white. Behind them, they could hear Aunt Petunia whooping and Uncle Vernon emit a high pitch moan.

They went over an underground ravine and their teeth began to chatter as the air grew colder and colder. Hagrid grabbed the boys by the shoulders as they leaned over the side of the cart in order to see what was at the bottom.

The carts screeched to a sudden halt and Griphook ambled out and over to the vault door. It had no keyhole. He flexed his long fingers and motioned for everyone to stand back. He stroked the door gently with one of his fingers and the door melted away.

'"Booty traps",' whispered Dudley, as they all stepped onto the platform in front of the vault.

'You mean booby traps?' asked Mr Dursley.

'"That's what I said",' said Dudley and Harry loudly, '"Booby traps!"' and they laughed as their voices echoed around them.

Griphook glared at them and then stepped back to the door as Hagrid returned to the carts, having collected whatever it was he had come to the vault for. 'Wouldn't be laughing if they got stuck in there, though, would they,' muttered the goblin as his fingers weaved and twisted and glowed and the doorway shimmered and the metal and stone door reappeared. 'Should show 'em the bones of the last one who got stuck.'

Hagrid patted his coat a couple of times and then helped Uncle Vernon into the second cart. After checking that everyone had settled into their carts, Griphook asked, 'Do you still want to see the Potter vault?'

Harry looked at his uncle and shook his head. 'We can do that another time,' he said, 'if that's okay?' Mr Dursley smiled weakly.

'Best we don't talk on the way back, eh Dursley?' said Hagrid and Uncle Vernon, his face pale, nodded and put his hands to his mouth for a couple of seconds. Once outside Gringotts, Uncle Vernon and Hagrid, still pale from the cart rides, decided that it was best that they go to the Leaky Cauldron for a pick-me-up while Aunt Petunia and the boys headed to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions to get Harry's uniform.

When the three of them walked into the shop Madam Malkin, a squat, smiling witch dressed in mauve, squinted and frowned a little when she saw Aunt Petunia. 'Two for Hogwarts?' she asked, and Harry stepped forward and said that it was just him.

She gestured for him to go into the fitting room and flicked her right hand as he walked past her. 'Would you like some tea?' she asked Aunt Petunia, and a small table and two chairs slid across the floor. Dudley gasped and looked at his Mum.

'That would be lovely,' Aunt Petunia answered. 'Thank you.'

A tray laden with cakes and biscuits and a teapot and cups floated through the air and set itself down on the table. A strange clipboard appeared and a quill hovered just above it. 'Please fill in the delivery details,' she said as she stepped over to the curtain separating the fitting room from the main shop floor. 'We won't be too long.'

A voice drifted over from the fitting area. 'I think it's stupid, really. I've been flying for years, all over our estate. My stupid elf told my father that I put my broom in my trunk.' The voice rose a little, exasperated, 'I'm a natural but if I can't have a broom then I can't play Quidditch, can I?

'No,' said Harry, 'you can't. Are you any good?'

'Am I? Me? Didn't you just hear me tell you that I'm a natural?'

'So, you were in a team?'

'Were you?'

'No, but my father used to be a chaser.'

Aunt Petunia set her cup down and got up to look at the range of fabrics on display.

'Your father used to be a chaser but that doesn't mean you'd be any good,' sneered the voiced.

A roll of measuring tape hovered behind Aunt Petunia, quickly taking measurements as she reached out to touch a set of dress robes. Dudley's head turned left and right as he watched fabric and scissors fly across the rear end of the store, behind a large 'Do Not Cross' sign, and a clothing rail slowly filled with new robes of various colours and sizes.

'Come along, Mr Malfoy,' they heard Madam Malkin say. 'All measured up. Your mother chose the fabrics and I'll make sure they're sent to the mansion in plenty of time.'

There was a slight thud and a soft grunt and the curtain parted and a boy with a pale, pointed face stepped through. He looked at Dudley and then spotted Aunt Petunia and gaped. 'Why are Muggles in your store?' he hissed.

'Never you mind,' said Madam Malkin.

Aunt Petunia hurried over to Dudley and stood next to him. Neither of them said anything as the boy looked at them and squinted. 'Are you a Mudblood?' he said slowly and loudly and, beyond the curtain, they heard Madam Malkin say, 'He means you, dear.'

'No,' said Harry, 'my parents were a witch and wizard.' He excused himself and stepped through the curtain and walked past the boy.

'Then who are they?' asked the boy, and he pointed with his chin.

'My Aunt and cousin. My family.'

'But they're Muggles!' exclaimed the boy, and he looked back at Madam Malkin as if urging her to agree.

'And they're my family. I'm not sure why that's so hard for you to understand.'

The boy looked at Harry for a good while and then his eyes widened. 'That scar,' he said, his voice soft and as if awed. 'You're Harry Potter.'

Harry felt his face redden and his arm twitched as he fought the urge to hold his Aunt's hand.

'Father said there were rumours you were being raised by Muggles, but…' he stepped forward, looking Harry up and down, and then sat on the arm of one of the chairs. 'Harry Potter.' He stood up again and held out his hand and said, 'My name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy. It's a pleasure to meet you.' Harry looked at the outstretched hand and then at his Aunt and cousin and then took Draco's handshake.

'Harry Potter.'

Draco stepped forward and gestured at the people walking by outside. 'You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort.' He turned and smiled at Harry. 'I can help you there.'

'I… I appreciate that,' said Harry, 'but, if it's all the same, I'm going to take this one day at a time.'

A pink tinge appeared on Draco's face but he smiled again and said, 'Just try not to hang around with riffraff or it will rub off on you.' He turned towards the door and stopped, gaping. Hagrid was standing by the front window, grinning at Harry and the Dursleys, and pointing at four large ice creams.

'Hagrid!' said Dudley, and Draco looked at him over his shoulder. Without saying another word, Draco opened the door and left the store.

'Well,' said Aunt Petunia, 'we've met a Malfoy.'

'You know them?' asked Madam Malfoy.

'Only what my sister told me. That they're an old wizarding family.'

'"Sister"?'

'Lily Evans. Lily Potter.'

Madam Malfoy smiled and nodded. 'You looked so familiar but I wasn't sure.' She looked through the window and said, 'your ice creams are melting.' She smiled again and led them out of the shop. 'Welcome to Diagon Alley.'

Hagrid handed Harry and the Dursleys their ice creams and they followed after him as he walked away. 'Yer Uncle's gettin' yer cauldron and stuff and said he'd meet us later. Figured I should show you the bookstore before we get you yer wand.'

In Flourish and Blotts they bought an additional copy of A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot – it was the only way they could get Aunt Petunia to leave the store. As they neared Ollivanders they could see Uncle Vernon waiting for them across the road. He was surrounded by a large pile of wrapped items of various shapes and sizes. At his feet was a pewter cauldron and, in it, sat a strange creature with large eyes and even larger ears.

'Told yer they'd insist on loaning you their elf, Vernon,' said Hagrid with a chuckle. The little elf stared at him, wide-mouthed. 'Let him take this stuff to yer house. Won't take him long.'

'But we can't have this stuff outside the house, Hagrid.'

'Trust me, this little fella can put everything in the house, nicely unpacked an' everything. You won't have ter lift a finger.'

'Well…' Uncle Vernon glanced at Aunt Petunia and said, 'we don't have the car with us…'

Aunt Petunia knelt in front of the cauldron and held out her hand. The elf looked at her hand and then up at Hagrid. Slowly it reached out its hand and wrapped its fingers around Aunt Petunia's. 'It's really not too much bother, ma'am,' said the elf. Its voice was squeaky and wavered a little.

'If you're sure,' said Aunt Petunia, 'but,' she gestured at the stack of books under Hagrid's arm, 'if you could also take those and put that wrapped book in my room,' the elf nodded its head quickly, 'and,' she bit her lower lip and everyone looked at her. 'And, there's an old shirt in the small room that you can have, if you like.'

'Shirt, ma'am?'

Hagrid looked around quickly. 'Er… Petunia-Miss,' he whispered urgently, 'I'm thinking that's not such a good idea.'

'Look at the rag it's wearing, Hagrid. The shirt won't free him, I'm not its owner, but I can give him something like that.'

The elf shook its head. 'No ma'am. You can give but Hooky won't take.' Aunt Petunia sighed and nodded. She stepped back and smiled at the elf and said, 'Hooky, if you would be so kind as to take these things to 4 Privet Drive and place them in the third bedroom, we would be very grateful.

The elf climbed out of the cauldron and gestured for Uncle Vernon to step back. He then bowed to Aunt Petunia and clicked his fingers.

Hooky and the packages disappeared and Harry, Hagrid, and the Dursleys were left standing in Diagon Alley. Harry turned and looked at the shop behind them. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C..

'Before we go in there, Harry,' said Uncle Vernon, 'this is from Hagrid and myself.' Harry heard his Aunt gasp and turned to see Uncle Vernon, with Hagrid's hand on this shoulder, holding up a large cage. A beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing.

'It's yer birthday present, Harry. We weren't sure what to get yeh but I figured an animal would be good. I don't like cats, they make me sneeze, so… well, it's an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everything'.'

Harry leapt forward and hugged his Uncle and then hugged Hagrid.

'Might make it easier to keep in touch, eh?' said Uncle Vernon gruffly.

'So,' said Hagrid cheerily, 'into Ollivanders.'

A bell tinkled somewhere in the store as they stepped inside. Rows and rows of narrow boxes were piled right up to the ceiling, each one emitting a soft glow through the black of the fabric they were wrapped in. There was a brighter patch of light ahead of them but most of the shop was the dark, the glow from the boxes only emitting a few centimetres of light.

The walked into the brighter area and looked around themselves. Dust drifted in the air, twinkling in the light, and Dudley stroked his arm and frowned. 'It feels warm,' he whispered, and Harry and the Dursleys nodded.

'Good afternoon' said a soft voice and, standing before them, was an old man. His eyes were wide and pale and, in the gloom beyond where they stood, they shone like moons. He looked at Harry and stepped forward as his eyes flitted from side to side. 'Green eyes,' he said, 'green and curious, just like hers. Mr Potter, eleven already...? his voice drifted as he looked at the others gathered in his shop.

'Ms Evans,' said Mr Ollivander softly.

'It's Dursley now,' said Aunt Petunia, and she squeezed her fingers.

Mr Ollivander looked at Uncle Vernon and then at Dudley. 'Is it now? Indeed. I must confess, I never expected to see you again. Not after last time.' Aunt Petunia felt her cheeks flush and was glad the lighting was so poor. He looked back at Harry and said, 'Do you remember your sister's wand?'

'Only that it was made of willow,' replied Mrs Dursley, her voice quivering a little.

'Indeed. Indeed.' She was quite good with it, from what I heard. Do you remember much at all about wands, Mrs Dursley?'

'That it's the wand that chooses.'

'Quite. Quite.

Mr Ollivander stepped forward and leaned towards Harry until they were almost nose to nose. He pulled back and then reached out and touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.

'That is quite curious, isn't it?' he said softly.

'What is?' whispered Harry.

'Your scar.' His traced his finger along the scar and then asked, 'does it tingle?'

'I-I don't think so,' said Harry, and he felt a little anxious that he couldn't see past Mr Ollivander's head and find his aunt.

'Magic – powerful magic – leaves traces, Mr Potter. I've had doubts over the years, when I heard about what happened, but I can see now that it was one of my wands that did that to you.'

'One of yours?'

'I'm not the only wandmaker in the world, Mr Potter.' He stepped away and flicked his fingers at a couple of shelves of small boxes. 'I may be the best, according to some, but I'm not the only one.'

'So, you hoped it had been another?' asked Mrs Dursley.

Mr Ollivander turned to look at her. 'I have seen many wizards and witches come through those doors, each with different kinds of potential and promise. The wand that did that to your nephew, that took your sister, is one I made many, many years ago. There is always hope for great things to be achieved by a wand and its wielder, but 'great' is not always 'good'.'

'How are the wands made, though?' asked Mr Dursley aloud, as he looked at the shelves closest to him.

'There are all sorts of ways of making them, sir,' replied Mr Ollivander, 'some are preferred over others, and others are known to very few.' He picked up a wand that was on display on the far counter and brought it over to Mr Dursley. 'This is an old wand. It's more than 700 years old.' Mr Ollivander smiled as Mr Dursley pulled his hands back and shook his head, refusing to take the wand from Mr Ollivander's hands. 'It's quite alright. As old as this wand is, it's quite useless.'

'It's inert?' asked Mr Dursley and, tentatively, he took the wand and held it for Harry and Dudley to look at.

'In a manner of speaking. Wands, despite their appearance, are more than just sticks. Each has a core that, in itself, is magical, and there are many wands, like this one, that have an attachment to one user and rarely any other. That attachment is because of the personal nature of the core. Personal to the owner of the wand.'

'But what about all of these wands?' asked Harry, 'they can't all be personal.'

'Not initially, no. With my wands, the bond between wand and wandbearer grows over time, but there is something special when a wand finds the bearer it wants to be with.'

'"Wants"?'

'The wand chooses, dear,' reminded Mrs Dursley.

'Now, Mr Potter, onwards with the search for your wand.' Mr Ollivander began pacing the room, looking up and down the rows and columns of boxes. He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket just as Harry looked at his right hand and the tape measure shot across the room and began measuring him.

For the next hour or so Mr Ollivander kept placing a wand in Harry's hand and immediately snatching it away. Neither Harry nor the Dursleys males had any idea what Mr Ollivander was waiting for but Aunt Petunia kept squinting and shaking her head. As frustrated as Harry was Mr Ollivander appeared to be happier and happier.

'I've been reluctant to try this,' said Mr Ollivander, softly, as he gently opened yet another box. 'Reluctant and curious, but this one seems to be the most likely.'

Harry took the wand and his arm raised above his head and, as Aunt Petunia held on to Uncle Vernon's arm, a light surrounded him and warmed the room.

'What's curious?' asked Uncle Vernon. Mr Ollivander took the wand from Harry and put it back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper.

'I've waited more than fifty years to find the one who was meant for this wand.'

'Is it special?' asked Harry.

'Other than being made by me?' teased Mr Ollivander. 'It's special in that its core is a tail feather from a phoenix. It's special because it has a twin and that twin-'

'Killed Harry's parents,' said Dudley. Mr Ollivander glanced at Dudley but before he could say another word in response, Dudley said, 'It did, didn't it? It did kill Aunt Lily.'

Mr Ollivander leaned over the counter and closer to the young boy and nodded. 'What Mr Potter does with his wand, young Mr Dursley, is unknown, but I can say this: as similar as he may be to the bearer of the other wand, he is all the more different because of each of you. It may, perhaps, serve him well to remember that and, I feel, for you to remind him of that from time to time.'

A little unnerved by Mr Ollivander's cryptic words, Harry paid seven Galleons for the wand and the group readied themselves to leave. During the 'want-fitting' session, Aunt Petunia had invited Hagrid to dinner and, after a lot of protesting, Hagrid agreed to attend. As they began to move towards the door Mr Ollivander stepped forward and approached Aunt Petunia.

'Ms Evans… Mrs Dursley, I have something here that I never thought I would ever give to you. Not because I didn't want to, you understand, but because I never thought an opportunity to do so would arise.' He held out a long box similar to the one he had placed Harry's wand in. 'Wands have journeys of their own and, sometimes, they find their way back to where they started from so that they can start another part of their journey.' He stepped forward and took her hand and placed the box in it. 'I long believed this was why this came back to me.'

Aunt Petunia opened the box and pulled the layers of tissue paper aside. Etched along the bottom edge of the wand were the letters 'PELE'.

'Lily's wand,' she whispered.