Later that night, (or more
accurately, early the next morning) Tem was awakened by a tapping at his
window. Still mostly asleep, he padded
over and opened the shade. He was shocked
fully awake at the sight of the giant snowy owl that he had seen in Harry's
bedroom perched on his sill. It held a
letter in its beak. It looked almost
intimidating with those large, intelligent golden eyes sizing him up. It gave an exasperated hoot, and Tem took
this as a signal to take the letter.
The owl waited patiently, possibly for an answer.
Tem opened the letter, noting that
it was written on what looked like old-time parchment. Spidery handwriting was scribbled across the
page. It read:
Dear Templeton, {Tem shuddered at the use of his real
name}
My name is Harry Potter. I just turned 15 years old and will be going
to Hogwarts for my fifth year next term.
While I've lived next to you for almost as long as I can remember, I'm
pretty sure we've never met. I'd like
to meet you and get to know you better, but the Dursleys won't even let me out
of my room this summer. It's comforting
to know that there's someone else like me around, though. *Yeah,
no kidding, * Tem thought. Aunt Petunia is going to the market
tomorrow. If you want to, you can come
over when she leaves. (I'd come over
there, but if I'm not in the house when she comes back, she'll kill me. And so would Uncle Vernon when he came
home.) I'll send Hedwig (my owl) over
when it's safe for you to come. I can't
wait to meet you, but until then I'd better go.
-Harry
Tem went back to his bed and read the letter over again. He was now wide-awake with no possibility of
going back to sleep. Almost without
thinking, he flipped the parchment over and wrote a short message back.
Harry-
That sounds great. Let me know when a good time to come over
would be-I'm free all day. By the way,
call me Tem. I hate Templeton.
-Tem
Tem held out the folded parchment, and the owl
picked it up primly in its beak and fluttered off across the path. Tem saw a hand reach out and quickly pull
the owl in through Harry's window before disappearing again. He then sighed: it seemed that nothing could
surprise him anymore, and picked up his journal, which still lay open on his
bed where he had fallen asleep writing the day's events. There had been more than usual today. He picked up his pen and began to write
again:
Dear Journal, (like you haven't gotten
enough of me already today)
I
just got a letter from Harry. He seems
like a really cool kid, but it's just weird.
He sent it by owl. I don't
know. This whole 'wizard' thing is
still so new. It's like there's this
voice at the back of my head saying, "It's not right, it's all a joke. A dream.
A figment of your imagination.
This will all be over when you wake up." And I keep waiting to wake up, but the dream just doesn't
end. I don't know if I want it to.
I really don't know what to expect when I visit
tomorrow. The way Harry talks, he's in
some mortal peril. It sounds like the
Dursleys keep him under lock and key up there, yet Harry still calls them
"Aunt" and "Uncle". I just don't think
any blood relation could do that to their kin.
Hell, I don't know how any human
being could do that to another.
And what's Harry doing with the Dursleys anyway? Where are his parents? Well, I guess I'll find this all out
tomorrow. *Tem
looked at the clock* I take that
back. Later on today. Doesn't that kid ever sleep? I can still see a light in his window. I suppose if you're imprisoned all the time,
you can basically keep any schedule you want to. Well, I guess that's it for now.
It's almost 4 a.m. Maybe I can
get some sleep before I have to meet him.
I'll write tomorrow and let you know what happens.
-Tem
***********************************************************************************************
At 10:00 the next morning, the
hooting of an owl at his window awakened Tem.
Angry that he had to get up after so little sleep, but happy that the
last 24 hours hadn't been a dream, he jumped up and took the note that Hedwig
proffered.
Tem-
If
you're coming over, now would be the best time. Aunt Petunia is at the market, Uncle Vernon is at work, and
Dudley is still asleep. The front door
is unlocked, so just come in. Go
upstairs and knock on my door (You'll be able to tell which one it is), but be
careful not to wake Dudley. See ya
soon.
-Harry
Tem threw on some clothes, ran a
comb through his short brown hair, and flew out the door, hurling an excuse to
his mother on the way. He crept up the
front path and paused at the Dursleys front door. He had always avoided this place. Either Dudley was beating him up, or Mr. And Mrs. Dursley were
yelling at him to stop picking on their baby.
Tem entered the foyer, cautiously
making as little noise as possible. He made
his way up the stairs and stopped at the top when he heard a groan come from
the room to the right of him. The creak
of a bed under the strain of a lot of weight followed. "Mommy?" questioned a thick, sleepy
voice.
Tem stifled his laughter at the sound of a voice usually so
cruel and taunting calling for his mother.
He soon, however, realized that he was in immediate danger of getting
caught. Tem screwed his voice up as
nagging and high-pitched as possible before calling softly, "It's ok, sweetie. Go back to sleep." He waited until he heard Dudley grunt and roll back over again
before starting down the hallway.
It
was then that Tem saw what Harry had meant.
He could indeed tell which room belonged to the wizard. At the end of the hall, a huge padlock was
fixed to the door handle, while iron bars covered a small window at the top of
the door where someone could just look in and see what the "prisoner" was
doing. Tem got the idea that this was
built more to Mr. Dursley's height than to Harry's. He walked up and knocked softly on the door twice.
"Hang on," came a soft whisper from
the other side. He heard a few words
muttered, but couldn't quite catch them.
Suddenly there was a small spark, a puff of smoke, and the lock fell to
the carpeted floor with a soft thud.
The door opened, and Tem was pulled in by an unseen hand. He looked up into what could only be the
face of Harry Potter, who was laughing so hard his round black glasses were
hanging from one ear. "That," he said
between gasps, "Was the funniest thing I have heard in a very long time. MOMMY!!" he cried in imitation of Dudley,
then sank to the floor in helpless fits of laughter.
Tem joined in with a nervous
chuckle. "Yeah. I really thought I was caught there for a
minute." He was pretty nervous, but
after seeing Harry like that, he couldn't help but loosen up a little. He hadn't really known what to expect, but
it wasn't this. Harry was just a normal
kid. He had been picturing
something…more mysterious. He peered
around the room. Though fairly bare, it
was normal enough. The only thing that
seemed slightly out of place was a few rolls of parchment piled in the corner,
along with some quills and strange textbooks with names like Transfiguration
104: Pigs to Wigs and The
History of Divination: Past, Present,
and Future. And then there was the
owl.
"You can pet her if you like," Harry
said once he had re-gained self-control and noticed Tem's interest in the
bird. "She may look kind of
threatening, but she's really very gentle."
Hedwig visibly glared at Harry as if he had just given away some
intimate secret. Tem hesitated for a
second, and then, not wanting to look afraid in front of Harry, he gave Hedwig
a little scratch on the head. Her eyes
immediately closed in ecstasy and she gave a little coo in the back of her
throat. So much for threatening.
Tem smiled. "She's really soft. And beautiful."
Harry had to agree. "Yes.
That, and she's very reliable. I
got her my first year at Hogwarts as a birthday gift from my friend,
Hagrid. You're going to need a pet when
you go to school. Owls are great,
because we also use them to carry mail in the wizarding world."
Tem nodded. "I still don't really believe that this is
all happening. One minute, I was a regular
kid, writing in my journal, and the next I'm getting letters from schools
claiming that I'm a wizard, and then owls from the weird kid next door! It's a bit much to take."
Harry smiled at this description of
himself and nodded. "I know exactly
what you mean. When I first found out,
the Dursleys had been trying to keep it from me. I kept getting these weird letters that they wouldn't let me see,
and finally they tried to take me away so that the school wouldn't find
me. They're rather afraid of magic," he
added, seeing the mortified look on Tem's face. He grinned. "So you can
imagine what happened when Hagrid, who's about ten feet tall, came, tore down
the door to the cabin we were staying in, and gave Dudley a pig's tail. It was really funny, but I didn't know what
was going on. Hagrid just kind of swept
me off to this whole new world where everything was different.
"I had never heard about wizards before, other than the
Muggle legends. It really helped to
have somebody who knew what was going on.
Which is why I guess Dumbledore asked me to help you. It's hard to swallow at first, but wait
until we go to Diagon Alley. It'll
really sink in then."
"Are you really related to the Dursleys? It's just that you seem so…well adjusted
after spending so much time with them."
Harry laughed at this comment. "Yes. Unfortunately, I
share certain DNA strands with them, but that's about as far as it goes. My parents died when I was very young, and
they've been taking care (if you call this care) of me since then."
"Oh." Tem wanted to
ask more about Harry's parents, but something stopped him. So he said the next thing that came to mind
to fill the awkward silence. "What's
Diagon Alley?"
***********************************************************************************************
Three days later, Harry and Tem
stood outside a small hole-in-the-wall pub called the Leaky Cauldron. Harry had decided that they should take the
bus up; he had said that the Floo powder (whatever that was) had been a lot to
take the first time. They were about to
meet some of Harry's friends in Diagon Alley.
Thousands of thoughts flooded Tem's mind. He was so excited and could hardly wait to get to the Alley. He just wished he had a pen so that he could
write it all down. He also wished that
his parents had opted to come. Both of
them had been very reluctant at this, though.
They felt, after all that had happened with their friend Becca, that
they just didn't belong in the wizarding world. Tem wondered if they ever would fully accept the fact that he was
a wizard. They seemed happy enough that
he was magical, but didn't really seem to want to be involved with anything
that had to do with it. Mrs. Patterson
had just given Tem some money, made sure he had his list for school, and sent
the boys off.
Tem looked around in wonder at his
surroundings. Once they had entered the
pub, it wasn't nearly as dilapidated as it seemed from the outside. Mahogany booths lined the walls of the
building; the bar was rimmed in gold, and crystal glasses hung from a rack
overhead. As they walked through the
place, Tem was astounded when Harry talked to Tom, the barkeeper, and the other
patrons like they were family.
"I stayed here for about a week one year. I had just blown up my aunt on accident and
run away from the Dursleys, and I needed somewhere to go. They're good people here," he explained as
they passed out a back door into what seemed like a walled off dead-end. Harry appeared to counted the bricks, three
up and two over, and tapped one with his wand.
Suddenly a wide archway stretched in front of them, opening to a busy
street. "Welcome to Diagon Alley,"
Harry said. Tem was awed. People young and old, walked the
street. Most wore long robes and pointy
hats, and were carrying strange parcels, birds, and cauldrons.
Harry had walked ahead already, and Tem had to run to catch
up. Harry had apparently been talking
while he had been admiring the crowd.
"We'll go to Gringott's first, that's the bank, and change over your
money. We don't use the same kind of
money that Muggles do. Then I guess
we'll get you fitted for your robes. I
could use a new one myself. Then,
we'll…" As Harry talked, Tem became increasingly conscious that a lot of people
were staring at him and his companion as they passed. At first he had thought that it was his clothes. He thought was pretty out of his element
here, but then he noticed that a lot of kids were wearing Muggle clothes, too,
and they weren't getting weird looks.
When he asked Harry about it, he just looked kind of
embarrassed and mumbled something about his scar. It was true; he had noticed the scar before. Who wouldn't? But he had never asked about it to be polite, and Harry had never
seemed to want to talk about. So he left
it alone. They walked up the busy
street and stopped in front of the biggest building that Tem had ever
seen. It was beautiful with its large
white marble pillars. The entire
building was marble, and it glistened.
Not a speck of dust from the street seemed ever to have touched it, even
with the thousands of people walking in and out of it at that very moment.
The first thing that they did was to exchange the money Mrs.
Patterson had given him for wizard money.
Tem was delighted as giant golden galleons were piled into a leather bag
and handed to him. Then they went down
to Harry's vault to get the money that he needed for his supplies. One thing that Tem had never before
experienced was motion sickness. He
never had a reason to before, as his parents hated traveling, or generally
anything that moved faster than a moderate walk.
The cart ride was Hell.
The Gringott's goblins laughed as he was sick over the edge
twice. Tem hated appearing weak, but
couldn't control the fact that his breakfast much preferred to enjoy the view
of the ride outside rather than stay in his stomach. He opted to lie down in the cart while Harry got his money, and
toughened up for the ride back; he only let loose once then. As they tottered back out of the bank, Harry
asked if he would be ok. Tem replied
shakily, "Never…again. I will never
ever get a vault there unless it's in walking distance." Harry just laughed and said nothing.
"Ok," Harry began, always the authoritative one. (Tem was glad, because he didn't know what
would have happened if he were in charge.)
"We'll start at the robe shop.
You can get fitted while I wait for my friends outside. They should be here soon. I really think you'll like them." Tem nodded, and went into the shop. Harry called over his shoulder, "If you need
anything, just call!"
As he walked into the darkened shop, Tem felt a rush of
anxiety. This would be his very first
act on his way to being a wizard. (He
discounted his trip to Gringott's. He
never wanted to remember that again.
Ever.) A kind witch led him to a
stool and mirror, where another kid was already standing. He looked really bored. The kid's face brightened up as he saw Tem
walk up.
"Hi! I'm Alan! What's your name? Are you a first year, too?
OOOH! You come from a Muggle
family, eh?" The kid fired off the
questions like bullets, and Tem didn't know what to answer first. He eyed the kid. He was kind of tall, with blonde hair and crystal clear blue
eyes. And a loud mouth.
"Umm. Hi," he said,
stepping up to the stool where the witch started measuring him. "I'm Tem Patterson. Yeah, I'm a first year, and how did you know
I come from Muggles?" He just decided
to answer all the questions at once so that he could get a word in
edgewise. Alan looked at him like he
was crazy.
"It's the clothes.
Blue jeans just don't fit in around here." Tem looked down at his clothes and realized he had forgotten how
out of place he looked. "It's ok," Alan
continued, "They'll get you straightened out here. Say, what house do you think you'll be in? Gryffindor's supposed to be the best. Besides, that's the house that Harry Potter
is in. Every kid wants to be in
that house."
Now it was Tem's turn
to look at Allen strangely. Sure, Harry
was a great guy and all, but this kid really seemed to revere him. Dumbledore had mentioned that he was a very
promising student, but could anyone be this popular? "What's so special about Harry Potter?" he
asked the kid. Alan fell into a state
of open-mouthed shock.
"Y-you mean you don't know?" he stuttered. Alan didn't seem to know what to say. "But…but…You-Know-Who…his parents…the scar…the
tournament…YOU DON'T KNOW?!" He managed to whimper out.
Tem opened his mouth to ask about what when the bell
on the door tinkled and a familiar voice came through. "Tem," Harry shouted. "Hurry up!
Ron and Hermione are here and I want you to meet them!" Tem turned and yelled that he would be there
in a minute, then turned back to the mirror, where the witch was pinning up his
robe. Alan looked at him in amazement.
"Was that…" he whispered, his voice filled with awe.
"Harry? Yeah. He's my next-door neighbor. He's showing me around some." Tem couldn't help but be proud of the fact
that he was friends with Harry, even though he didn't know what the big deal
was. He decided to tell Harry about the
kid when he left, and they would get all get a big kick out of it. Alan let out a final squeak, trying to
regain his voice, but as soon as it looked like he could say something, the
witch announced that he was done and could leave. "I'll see you at school!" Tem called after him as the kid walked
stiffly out the door. His robes were
soon finished, and he, too, paid and left.
He spotted Harry as he walked out of the store; with him were
a tall, gangly boy with flaming red hair who was laughing, and a shorter girl
with frizzy brown hair who was looking indignant. Harry introduced them as his best friends, Ron and Hermione. As if Tem couldn't guess. They were all Harry talked about, besides
the Dursley's. Tem introduced himself,
and then they set off to finish their shopping.
By the time they left, Tem had all his textbooks, a young
brown owl, a wand (11-inch rowan with Pegasus wing feathers), several robes,
and a hat. He had had a great time with
Harry and the gang. He really liked
Harry's friends, and found he got along with Ron particularly well. Tem arrived home that evening happy, and
went to bed with the familiar dread that he would wake up and find out it had
all been a dream, though this time it seemed less likely. He fell asleep that night, face in journal,
when the words that had earlier been a raging torrent from his pen became a
trickle and died.
