AN: Hey guys! I bought a ton of books this weekend, including Bram Stoker's Dracula
in which I am currently engrossed. I recommend it for anyone over 13, as it is rather dark.
And long.
Chapter 8
Door to the Past
My feet made sickening slop slop sounds as I ran along the corridor. I wished I had a watch. Just as I decided to turn around and go back, I saw the steps looming before me. I started up.
One, two, three, four... I soon lost count. Then my head hit the trapdoor above me.
Success! I pushed it open and peeked out, still under the cloak. Nobody
around. I hoisted my body out and landed like a cat.
Pulling the trapdoor back into place, I straightened my back and looked around for the steps. I found them and started to climb. Then I heard it, a voice from upstairs.
"While you're there, get some more Fizzing Whizbees. I hear Hogwarts started yesterday, That means somebody will sneak over here..."
"How right you are, Madam," I thought. I slipped into the store and out onto the street unnoticed. Now to find a shop that sold Floo powder, I thought, pulling off the cloak. Zonko's and Honeydukes certainly didn't sell any, and the Three Broomsticks wouldn't either. Those were most of the stores that I had ever been into. So I started walking down the street until I came to a small store with dusty sign above the door.
It read "Tarulli's: Makers of Fine Transporters since 1492". Just what I needed. I pushed the door in and took a step over the threshold.
A small bell tinkled someplace overhead. I looked around. In the murky light, I could just make out rows and rows of bottles, boxes and papers. Dust clung everywhere, even to thin air. It smelled like an attic, long locked away. There was a door covered in velvet in the back. From within, a short and dumpy witch waddled over to me.
"Hello," she said in a hoarse voice, folding her hands. "What may I do for you?" Her voice sent chills down my spine.
"Umm, I need floo powder."
"Ahhh. What model?" I was taken aback. I didn't have a clue what model I needed. I didn't have a clue there were different models. My face must have shown it. "Never mind," she said with a chuckle. "Where do you want to go?"
"Diagon Alley." I was relieved to be asked a question I knew the answer to.
"Here," she said, handing me a small velvet pouch from a shelf. "4 sickles. Be careful though, it's strong. Just a pinch will do." I handed her the silver and walked out of the shop.
Once back outside, I squinted in the sunlight. Then an idea struck me. There was no apparating on Hogwarts grounds. What if you couldn't use Floo powder there either? I looked at the clock over the town square. 8:35. I marched over to the post office and pushed my way inside. I paid to use a tiny scopes owl for the day. I sat down at a rickety desk, and scribbled a note.
Hermione and Ron-
Gone to Gringotts. Used Floo. Be back by dinner. Don't worry.
Harry
I tied the letter to the owl's leg, and threw it out the window. Now all I needed was a fire. I walked over to the register and stood on tiptoe.
"May I help you?" said the lazy voice of the clerk.
"Um, yes," I replied. "Do you have a fire I could use?" The man pointed to the side of the room, where a grate stood with dying flames. He held out his wand and the fire soared back to life. Then he held out his hand to me, clearing his throat loudly.
"Thank you?" I ventured. The man shook his head. I understood him this time and places a few knuts in his outstretched hand. Walking over to the fire, I opened the tiny bag and threw out just a pinch. Taking a deep breath, I stepped inside and shouted,
"Diagon Alley!"
I began to spin around. Faster and faster and FASTER until I thought I was going to be sick. And then... it stopped. I fell face forward onto a hard wood floor. There was a spot a few inches from my nose that smelled suspiciously like liquor. I bent back onto my knees and my worst fear was confirmed. I had landed in the Leaky Cauldron.
Normally, this wouldn't have fazed me. Except you needed to use magic to get to Diagon Alley from the Leaky Cauldron. You need to tap the brick. I couldn't do magic out of school. Maybe Tom would help me.
I stood up and looked around. There was Tom, sitting behind the desk with his head in his arms. I didn't want to wake him up, but...
I tiptoed over to Tom and hissed in his direction. "Tom... Tom, wake up. I need some help."
Tom shook off sleep and looked up. "Mr. Potter, sir. How may I help you?" He smiled a toothless smile.
"I need to get into Diagon Alley," I muttered.
"Surely, sir," he said. He hopped off his stool and walked out the back door. I followed him close behind. He reached the wall and tapped the brick above the trash can. The
gateway opened and I thanked Tom as I ran inside.
There were few people in Diagon Alley, probably because school had just started.
Jogging down the street, I tried to find Gringotts. There it was at the end of the street.
Its marble exterior shone like new sickles, and the goblin outside was as neatly pressed as
ever. I reached him and nodded a hello. Once inside the two sets of doors, I
walked over to the goblin behind the desk.
Handing him the key, I asked, "May someone show me to vault 623?"
"Griphook!" yelled the goblin. "Take him..." he waved in my direction "...to vault 623."
Griphook nodded and pointed to the infamous small carts. I threw myself inside and
watched as Griphook did the same. The cart began to move down the tracks. Faster and Faster and FASTER! It was almost as bad as Floo Powder. I swear I saw a dragon; I
think it was a Horntail, but I'm not sure. After a few tense minutes the cart stopped
HTML1DocumentEncodingutf-8outside a row of doors. Griphook pointed one out to me and waited in the cart. Walking
over, I took a deep breath and pulled the key back out of my pocket. I reached towards
the door, inserted the key in the lock, and turned it slowly. The door swung open, and the dust of ages cleared.
Craning my head for a better look, I spotted something in the corner behind a mound of
knuts. Pushing them aside, I saw the box my father had in the pensieve, and something
else. Realizing what it was, I gave out an involuntary shout and stared. It was a fire. Small and burning in a tiny glass jar. But how could this be? With all the dust that came out of the box, I doubted that anybody had opened it since my parents died. But there it was, soft and glowing. I tapped the jar with my finger. Cold as ice. Picking up the jar, I made to turn it upside down, looking for a label or note, but when it shook it gave off a small pop. The fire disappeared and in its place was a scroll. Throwing caution to the wind, I unscrewed the lid and reached inside. It wasn't a scroll, but a picture. In it were my father, Sirius, Remus, and Peter (I swore loudly and...creatively). Now this wouldn't disturb me, except they were in animal form. Which meant someone had to
know about them. But why wasn't Lupin eating the photographer? He would have had to turn into an animal, and work the camera from there. I could tell you one thing though. From what Sirius had told me, my mother never was an animagus, which excluded her. So someone did know about them. Sirius had never told me though. I would have to talk to him.
I grabbed the package I came for, and jumped back into the cart. I must have sat staring at the picture, because I don't remember the ride back. Nor do I remember the trip back to the Leaky Cauldron. I do remember the Floo powder though, as I held on tightly to the package and the picture. Once back inside the post office, I rushed to Honeydukes, throwing the cloak back on. I crept around Fred and George, who by the looks of it were trying to sell Canary Creams to the landlord. I snuck back into the tunnel and before I knew where my legs were taking me, I found myself outside the witch, face to face with Ron and Hermione. And neither of them looked happy to see me.
