CHAPTER 2: The Rose of Diagon Alley
Harry awoke the next morning with a start. His scar was burning. Harry had a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. Every time Harry's scar had hurt before, it meant that his enemy, Lord Voldemort, was near. Harry had had a dream the night before, but he didn't remember much of it. Harry didn't want to panic, but the last person he wanted another encounter with He immediately jumped out of bed and over to his desk. He seized a parchment and quill. Harry tried to think who would be the best person to write to about his scar hurting. It didn't take him long to decide to write to Sirius Black. Sirius was his godfather. He had been a prisoner at the wizard prison, Azkaban, but had been released. Harry had written to him the last time his scar hurt. Harry decided to mention the pain in his forehead casually. He didn't want Sirius to worry, or worse, come to the Dursley's house. He begun to write the letter. It read:
Dear Sirius:
Thank you for the birthday letter. Hermione says hello; she came to visit me. Oh, by the way, my scar hurt this morning. Nothing serious, but I just thought I'd let you know. Can I ask what you need to keep an eye on at Hogwart's this year? I'm glad you're teaching… never a coveted position, but I'm sure you'll be very knowledgeable about the subject. See you in September.
Harry
After he had rolled up and tied the letter, Harry had to wake Hedwig up, so he wondered if he should the letter to her. He thought about giving it to Pig, but Hedwig hated Pig. When he started to tie the letter to the tiny owl, Hedwig woke up and flew over to Harry with her leg extended towards him. Harry chuckled slightly and tied the letter to Hedwig's leg. He sent her through his window and gazed at the horizon as she flew smoothly through the rain. Although it was July, it was rather chilly out. It was a gray morning, and Harry hadn't realized how early it was. He noticed that all of the other houses had their curtains drawn, a sign that the inhabitants were sleeping. As Harry turned to look at his clock, he wiped his raindrop-speckled glasses off. The electronic clock on his bedside table read 6:46. Harry never woke up that early. What time had he fallen asleep the night before? It couldn't have been earlier than 11:00. He wasn't tired, but Harry climbed back into bed anyway. As he looked around his cluttered room, Harry eyed his book that Hermione had given him, sitting near the foot of his bed. It looked for a moment as if the gold embossed letters were moving. Harry rubbed his eyes. He looked back at the letters. They had stopped moving. Must be tired, Harry thought, but he picked the book up in spite of the giant yawn that escaped his mouth. He opened the book to the first page. The first entry was dated July 4th, 2002. It showed moving pictures instead of words. Harry watched intently as the pictures came to life. He could see people talking but couldn't hear them saying anything. I wish I could hear it, he thought, and instantly, the volume increased. Harry recognized the bustling alley where the pictures took place as none other than Diagon Alley, the headquarters for wizardry and witchcraft supplies, spell books, and the place to meet other wizards or witches. Harry's eyes bugged out as he saw himself moving through the crowd. He was alone. The entry date was just one day away from now, and how could the book know that Harry was planning on going to Diagon Alley tomorrow? He hadn't, in fact, been planning on it. Perhaps the book decided for him, Harry thought with a smile. He decided to concentrate on the book and keep an eye out for the "clues" that Hermione had mentioned. He watched himself make his way into the Leaky Cauldron, the major pub in Diagon Alley. As he walked up to the bar to order a butterbeer, Harry heard a familiar voice.
"Harry!" Harry watched himself whirl around to see his best friend, Ron Weasley, standing in front of him. Ron was taller than Harry, with red hair and freckles. He was grinning immensely.
"Hullo, Ron!" Harry smiled back. "Want a butterbeer?"
"Sure, thanks!" Ron replied.
The real Harry squinted as he saw something appear on a table in the pub. The object was a rose, and it was glowing. Harry tried to look closer at it. Was it a clue? Harry had a sudden urge to be in Diagon Alley. He wanted to make the Harry in the book look at the rose, to pick it up and see what it was. He wanted to keep the rose, and wanted to examine it. The rose began to glow even more brightly. Harry tried to see a clock in the pub. The only clock he could see anywhere in the picture was his own watch. He tried to see the time. It looked like 11:32. Harry decided that when he went to Diagon Alley, he needed to be at the Leaky Cauldron at 11:25. He would meet Ron, and quickly tell him about the book. He would watch the table for the rose, then try to pick it up.
Harry continued to watch the pictures. He and Ron were still laughing and talking, and Harry was telling Ron about Hermione's visit.
"… and we were talking about Professor McGonagall turning into a cat, and Hermione said she had been doing all of these spells and stuff, and they were so scared, Ron! It was incredible…"
Harry closed the book abruptly. His scar had suddenly begun to hurt again. Was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named at the Leaky Cauldron? Was he in disguise? Would Voldemort be somewhere near Diagon Alley in tomorrow? Harry couldn't worry about that, he needed to pack his things up and get ready to leave early in the morning.
Harry searched his closet and found a knapsack. Inside of it he placed four bags of galleons, his invisibility cloak, his wand, and his list of books he needed for school this upcoming year, his 5th year at Hogwart's. Harry glanced back at "The Road to Nowhere" and walked over to it. He picked it up and placed it in the knapsack. He might need it. Harry looked at his clock. It was nearly 8:00; the Dursleys would be up soon. In the meantime, Harry decided to write a letter to Ron. In the letter, he thanked Ron for the broom polish, told him that he would meet him at the Leaky Cauldron at 11:25 in the next day, told him about the book, his scar, and the letter from Sirius. He told him about Hermione's visit, and how Pig crashed into the window. It turned out to be a very long letter indeed. When he attached the letter to Pig's foot and sent him out the window and into the now-pouring rain, he saw that it was 8:27. He could hear the clatter of pots and pans downstairs, and headed for the kitchen.
Aunt Petunia was cooking eggs and pancakes and bacon, but Harry knew that all of that was for Dudley. He saw a plate with an unpeeled orange on it, which Aunt Petunia handed to Harry and said, "Your breakfast." she said it rather petulantly, and made an especially loud noise with the pan. She seemed quite perturbed with Harry.
"er… Aunt Petunia," Harry said meekly, "I'm-I'm going to London tomorrow, Diagon Alley." He decided to add some pizzazz to his statement. "er… very important wizard business."
Aunt Petunia looked at Harry. She raised her eyebrows disapprovingly. "All right," she said, "have fun." The sarcasm in the latter part of the statement was painfully obvious.
"Thank you." Harry retorted with an equal amount of dramatic contempt in his voice. Harry was exasperated with Aunt Petunia. She never cared about anything Harry did, and he was sick of it. He seized his orange off the plate and dug his fingernails into it. After he had peeled the rinds, he stuffed large amounts of juicy orange into his mouth. He placed the orange peels back on the plate and put the plate on the counter. He returned to his room and closed the door. He did have some homework from Professor Snape. Harry took his cauldron out of his trunk in his closet and realized he didn't have any of the ingredients he needed. He wrote down on a parchment:
~Powdered dragons tooth
~Fubbleroot
~Malcora juice
~Toads' eyes
Harry decided he would buy the necessary ingredients once he reached Diagon Alley and put the parchment in his bag. Harry looked at the clock. Only 9:12.
The rest of the day passed very slowly, and Harry couldn't fall asleep that night. When he finally did, he dreamed about the rose. He dreamed that he was in a beautiful garden. He was surrounded by daisies and pansies. As he looked around him, he saw the single rose, glowing a deep red. He went to pick it and was pricked by the thorns. His hand bled, and Harry slumped to the ground. Harry saw the light fading. He suddenly had the sensation of falling…
Harry woke up. It was 6:45 in the morning. Just the day before, Harry thought, he had first looked at his clock at 6:46. Why was he waking up early? He never had before. Harry was breathing quite heavily. His scar wasn't hurting, but his finger was. Harry gazed in bewilderment at the wound on his finger where the rose had pricked him. So, he thought, it had been real. The rose - the dream - it was all real. Perhaps there was more to the book than Harry, or even Hermione, thought. Harry sat for hours in his bed until it was time to go. He watched pictures of himself at Hogwart's in from the past four years. At 11:10 he decided it was time to leave.
Harry slowly got out of bed and approached his trunk. He took a small tin out of it, marked: FLOO POWDER. Harry grabbed his knapsack, put his robes on, and carried the Floo Powder downstairs. Looking around quickly to make sure no one was around, he lit a fire in the fireplace. This made the room uncomfortably hot, partly because it was July and partly because Harry had made an unusually large fire. Harry opened the Floo Powder tin and took a pinch. As he walked into the flames, carrying his knapsack, he said loudly and clearly, "Diagon Alley!"
Harry saw visions whizzing past him, a normal occurrence with Floo Powder. Within seconds, he was walking out of the fireplace in the Leaky Cauldron. No one seemed to notice he had arrived, except one person-
"Harry! Look, mum! It's Harry Potter!"
"Hello, Colin…" Harry mumbled with disdain in his voice. The boy was Colin Creevey, a fourth-year student at Hogwart's. Colin had always been somewhat obsessed with Harry, capturing pictures of him at every chance he got, and following him like a lost puppy. Harry glanced at his watch. 11:12.
"Come and meet my mum, Harry," Colin stipulated, seizing Harry's wrist and leading him towards a table where a woman, a man, and a boy sat. Harry recognized the boy as Colin's 3rd year brother. Colin was talking to his mother very quickly indeed. Harry wasn't exactly listening; he was looking around for Ron.
"Yeah, so, mum," Colin continued, "You-Know-Who is his defeated foe, and he's been ever so brave at school… and he's my hero, aren't you Harry? And we're really good friends, right, Harry?" Harry nodded quickly and said,
"Sorry, Colin, I've really got to go, Important Hogwart's Business, you know… See you." Harry had spotted Ron across the crowded room. As he walked away from the Creevey table, he heard Colin saying,
"D'ja hear that, mum? 'Important Hogwart's Business'! Can you believe it?" He sounded truly enthralled with Harry's "business".
"Ron!" Harry called and waved.
"Harry!" Ron walked towards Harry. "Er… want a butterbeer?" Ron asked. Perhaps it wasn't exactly like the book, Harry thought. His scar wasn't hurting yet, either.
"Harry," Ron said, lowering his voice, "About that book…"
"I'm supposed to look for a rose on that table," Harry pointed, "At 11:32. Then I've got to pick it up so I can keep it. It's a clue. Ron, you've got to help me with this."
"Okay," Ron said, looking at his watch, "It's 11:26. We've got 8 minutes. Tell me more about Hermione's visit."
"She said she was there for my birthday," Harry stated thoughtfully, "But I don't know if that was the only reason she was there. She knows something about this book, Ron. Something I don't."
"Like what?" said Ron, confused.
"I don't know yet. I told you about Sirius, right?"
"Yeah! I don't believe it! Sirius, a teacher? Why? How? What's he got to keep an eye on?"
"I asked him in my last letter," Harry said slowly, "But I can't think of anything. Unless… unless it has something to do with my book!" Harry's eyes lit up.
"Hmm…" Ron took a sip of his butterbeer. "Maybe. Just can't think why else Hermione would have been there…"
"Have you seen her?" Harry asked. When Ron shook his head, Harry continued, "Her hair, it's straight! She looks so different."
Ron looked as though her were going to say something, but he suddenly diverted his widened eyes to the table where the rose was supposed to appear. "Har-Harry… look! There it is!"
Harry ran over to the table. He picked up the rose gingerly, because of what had happened with the rose in his dream. Harry carried it carefully over to Ron.
Ron's eyes were glowing almost as brightly as the rose.
The door to the pub opened, and a short man completely covered in a black cloak entered. Harry didn't think much of it, just another person entering the Leaky Cauldron… until he nearly doubled over in pain.
"Ron," he gasped, struggling to breathe, "My-My scar. It hurts really bad… Ron!" Harry had the same sensation of falling as he had had before. His vision blurred, but he could see the small shrouded figure leaving the Leaky Cauldron door, and Ron's face with a look of terror.
Just as suddenly as it had started, the pain in Harry's scar subsided.
"Voldemort…" Harry hissed.
"What?!" Ron was flabbergasted.
"Every time my scar hurts… the man with the cloak… let's go!" Harry started for the door. He saw Ron place a few gold coins on the counter and follow him. Just as Harry went to open the door, it opened in front of him.
"Hagrid!" the humongous silhouette in the doorway, emerging from the bright outside light, and shaking the rain off his giant-sized umbrella, was none other than the Hogwart's gamekeeper, Harry's friend Hagrid.
"Harry! Good ter see yeh! What're you doin' here? Buyin' yer schoolbooks, I 'spect."
"er… yeah, that's exactly what-" Harry stopped abruptly. Hagrid's eyes were incredibly wide, and his mouth hung open.
"What're yeh… What're yeh doin' with that rose?!" Hagrid seemed quite frightened.
"Oh, don't make fun, Hagrid, it's a long story," Ron piped up, thinking that Hagrid simply thought it odd that Harry had a rose in his hand. "It just happens to glow."
"I-I know what that there rose is…" Hagrid said, backing away towards the door. "Don't - er… put that away, Harry, will yeh?"
"Hagrid, what's the problem? You know something about this rose?" Harry looked anxiously at Hagrid.
"It's-It…" Hagrid lowered his voice and leaned down towards the boys. "All I can tell yer is it's bad news… it's something to do with You-Know-Who… but-" Hagrid stopped. The door banged open, and the black shrouded figure burst into the pub again. Harry heard screaming, and felt extremely dizzy. He saw the light fade, and the last sounds he heard were the voices of Hagrid and Ron… but he couldn't tell what they were saying…