A/N: Disclaimer and etc in first part. For those familiar with Greg Lam's Harry Potter and the Other Side of Evil might recognize the ref. in this chapter. And for those who don't, you should look up the story. It's an interesting read. ;)
C h a p t e r T w o: London Calling Diagon Alley
Tim Hunter felt lost.
Ash had helped him reach this world, and they were in London of all places. It didn't seem any different from his London. At least, that was before they reached the Leaky Cauldron, an out of the way pub that appeared to be hiding from the street in a sense. Tim could sense the familiar tingle of magic as they went inside. Conversations stopped as they entered. He thought he heard some mumblings about somebody named Porter or Potter, but he didn't think anything of it.
The bartender glanced up at them, and squinted a little, "Well, there's someone I've not seen for a very long time. Ash? Is that you?"
Ash smiled in return at him, "Hello Tom, it's been a while." They shook hands over the counter.
"To say the least," he agreed, and then turned to Tim, "And this is…?" He frowned a little in thought, and it appeared like his eyes were looking toward Tim's forehead for some odd reason.
"This is Tim Hunter."
Upon the introduction, Tim could see a flicker of disappointment, but then the bartender's face brightened again. It was also then when conversations sprung back up around the room as well. The bartender remarked, "Well, then, any friend of Ash's. Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, lad. Attending Hogwarts then?"
"Er… yeah…" He glanced at Ash worriedly. How could he hide if the school was common knowledge? But then he remembered the Walker's earlier remarks about magic being more accepted here.
"Well, we have to get Tim here some supplies, so we must go for now."
"Yes, yes, quite right. You remember the way?"
He nodded, "It hasn't been that long." The two then headed through a back exit, and toward a brick wall where there were some rubbish bins off to the side.
Tim turned to him, "What did you mean supplies?"
"School supplies. They're rather specific. Books, robes, and all."
He rolled his eyes, "Next you'll be telling I need a ruddy wand as well."
"Yes, that too," Ash said as he tapped the bricks with an ash branch. They both stepped back, and watched as the bricks moved back to form an archway. He then gestured, "Go on ahead. You can find your way around from here." He handed him an envelope, "Information is in there." He turned around to leave.
"Wait!" Tim called to him, and he glanced back at him. "Where do I go?"
"You said you're the all knowing mage. I think you'll manage," Ash deadpanned, and then walked away.
Tim sighed, and with little else to do, he opened the envelope that was addressed to him. Blah-blah, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They can't be bloody serious? Be at King's Cross Station, Platform 9 ¾ on September 1. Platform and what? He had been to King's Cross Station, and there wasn't anything there. Just two arches, one that lead to Platform 9 and the other to Platform 10. Then, again, it's magic so anything's possible.
He stepped through the archway, and glanced up and down the crowded street. It was a little like he had stepped onto a movie shoot. Old buildings lined the street, which was not uncommon in London, but there was also typically more modern buildings hunched up right along side of the old. And the people… There were many people walking around, all ages and gender, most dressed in robes in every imaginable color. Plus, he could see skeins of magic everywhere; the whole area breathed it in and out like oxygen.
"Are you Tim?" A voice, the American accent obvious in its inflection, spoke. He turned, and beheld a woman in her mid-twenties. She had dark hair, amber eyes, and nut-brown skin. The expression on her face reminded him a bit of Khara, that woman who had had a child with an angel. He hadn't seen her since Araquel's death, probably in mourning. She had helped him before, but she always seem to have an expression of wise expectation on her face, a bit like a teacher. This woman appeared to be one as well.
"Yes, I'm Tim Hunter."
"Great. I'm Cora Lowry. I'll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, and I was likewise asked to help you around." She then added in a quieter tone, "Yes, I know of your situation, though they picked the oddest time for you to be here."
He frowned, "What do you mean?"
She shook her head, "Oh, never mind. Something you probably won't have to worry about where you're going. I understand the school's well protected." She then added, "So, you're going to be needing supplies I'll bet. Books and all. Plus I think the school's private. Uh…sorry, forget I'm in England now. You'd call it public school here, right?"
"Yeah, that's right. You're American then?"
She nodded, "By way of Philadelphia, yes. It's kind of different there."
"I know, been to America a couple of times now."
"Really, hmm… well, visiting is a little different than living there. But anyway, getting sidetracked. I can help you with getting books and stuff like that, but there's something you'll have to get yourself." She then remembered, "Oh, you'll be needing money. Shops around here don't use pounds."
"What do they use? Huge bloody stones?" He scoffed, and was rewarded with an up cuff to the back of the head.
She frowned at him, "Heard you're a bit of smart-ass. I'd keep that 'tude of yours in check around here if I was you. I don't want to have to explain to the Headmaster why you're coming to school as a frog or something."
"You're joking." He stared back in shock. Ok, he could do things like change into cats and birds himself, but apparently that wasn't very common. What kind of a world was this?
"I am, but not about that. Try to be polite, and don't piss off somebody who doesn't deserve it." Cora then went on, "Now, as I was saying, currency here's based on Galleons, Knuts, and Sickles. Um, Galleons are kind of comparable to your pounds, or dollars, though they're all in coin, not paper. An account's been set up for you over at Gringotts. It's just for while you're studying here, so think twice about any shopping sprees. Bulk of it's for school supplies and materials only."
They headed to Gringotts, and received a little trouble since the goblins first had trouble locating Hunter's account, and it took a half hour to straighten the matter. Luckily they had little trouble at the other shops. There was only one thing left to pick up, and something that Professor Lowry felt Tim should take care of alone.
* * * * *
A while later, Tim glanced up and read the sign on the building. Ollivander's, Maker of Fine Wands Since 482 BC. *Yeah, how likely was that?* He snorted to himself before entering. An elderly gentleman peered over at him from where he had been hunched at work on something. Some blasted wand probably, Tim figured.
The man studied him momentarily, and his gaze flickered upward toward Tim's forehead before making eye contact again.
"May I help you?"
"Er, yeah, I'm supposed to buy a wand, I think."
The elderly man beamed at him, "Well, that we have. I am Mr. Ollivander, and you would be hard-pressed to find a better wand than these. All hand-crafted with a core of magical substance you understand."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but only just. He already felt like such a dolt for simply being in here. Like hell he was going to ponce about with a wand, and be dressed like some fairy-tale wizard while he was at it. "Uh, right. So I just pick any one of them?"
He shook his head, and then commented off-handedly, "You think this is silly, don't you? I assure, there are more to them then you think. For one, they choose you, not the other way around."
"You make them sound like they're alive." Tim remarked.
"Who's to say they're not? Now, let's see. Which is your magic arm?"
Tim wasn't sure about that. He was right-handed but he tended to use whichever arm, or both to do spells. "Uh, either?"
"Let me rephrase, right or left handed?"
"Right." Tim replied, and Ollivander started measuring his arm.
"I'll admit, you're rather old to only be getting a wand now. What did you do before? Wave your hands around like a great bat?" He asked with a bit of a chuckle in his voice.
He sniffed, "Worked alright before."
"Perhaps, but this will help you hone your abilities. Here, 10 ¾ in., maple and dragon heartstring." He handed one out to Tim, who took it and stared at it. "Well, give it a wave to test it."
Tim shrugged, and waved it, but the owner plucked it from his hand immediately, "No, here, 11 ½ in., ebony and phoenix feather." Again, it was taken from him just quickly.
"No surprise, difficult to place. Not unlike a lad similar to you, but I'm sure you know about him."
"Who?"
He blinked, "Why, Harry Potter of course. For a moment, I wondered if you two were related. Though, different eyes yes, and the hair's a tad lighter, but a remarkable resemblance. Now he was a tricky one. Holly and phoenix feather, unusual combination." He then paused in thought, and went over to the counter to grab something.
"Who in the bloody hell is Harry Potter?" Tim exclaimed.
"You don't know? Curious, very curious indeed." Ollivander peered at him intently, "I don't believe I caught your name."
"Well, it isn't flipping Potter, whoever the hell he is! I'm known as Tim Hunter."
For some reason, it made the other gentleman a bit more interested in him, "Ah, yes. Heard something about you, Mr. Hunter. Your father is not unknown around here. And you do take a great deal after him, I can see that now." He smiled knowingly.
He frowned. This was a different world, how would his father ever…? But then he remembered: his real father, Tam Lin, and like his mother, also dead. He was once a falconer who could also transform into a falcon, and onetime consort of Queen Titania. Supposedly he was considered the same Tam Lin that was mentioned in legends and ballads. And Tim remembered how easy it was to reach different worlds from Faerie. So perhaps his father knew of this world too.
The owner then added, "In fact, he gave me something, and asked for a favor. A special request order, should his son ever find this world."
And he handed over a wand. "12 ½ in., rowan wood, and a very unique core, a falcon tail feather." Off Tim's look of surprise, he continued, "Oh yes, a feather donated from one Transfigured Tam Lin."
Tim wordlessly took the wand, and didn't even have to give it a wave. The polished surface seemed to glow, and he thought he could hear the distant cry of a falcon. "Do I owe you anything?"
"No. Not a thing. As I said, I could not sell it to anyone else. And this is simply a debt that is now paid in full. Take good care of it, and it will serve you well."
"Er, yeah right. Cheers," Tim quietly said, and left quickly with a troubled expression.
The owner watched him leave, and remarked to himself, "So the Merlin himself is here. Perhaps there is hope yet."
* * * * *
Elsewhere in Diagon Alley, Harry was picking up his supplies for the school year, along with the Weasleys.
"I can't believe we really need all these books. How do they expect us to read them all?" Ron grumbled loudly to Harry.
Mrs. Weasley replied, "You both have your O.W.L.'s this year. And Ron, I do hope you do well on them." She was a bit concerned since his older brothers, Fred and George, liked to goof off more than take tests. Ron didn't think it was that big a deal since his other older brothers had done well on them, especially Percy. Though he knew his grades were only good, partly from hard studying, and partly from Hermione helping him, and Harry with their work. Only in guidance however, as she considered it, since she was adamant against doing people's work for them.
Harry had been feeling a little uneasy since they arrived in the marketplace. He felt rather queer, and at times, like he was in two places at once. His scar wasn't bothering him for once, so he didn't think too much of it.
A little later, Mrs. Weasley had taken Ginny over to get potion supplies, and told them to meet over at Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlor. But as Ron and Harry turned the corner, they thought they saw somebody dressed in muggle clothes leaving from Ollivander's. As they got closer, they both were struck by the fact that the boy heading down the street looked a lot like Harry. But as they hurried after him to find out, he vanished into the crowd.
"Well, that was strange." Ron commented.
Harry nodded, "Yeah." He looked around, and said, "We should probably head back."
"Right." Ron agreed, but Harry wondered who it was. Plus, he remembered someone else who shared similar looks to him, someone who while was much older now, was also back in full power. The boy they saw also looked a great deal like Tom Riddle, aka Voldemort.
C h a p t e r T w o: London Calling Diagon Alley
Tim Hunter felt lost.
Ash had helped him reach this world, and they were in London of all places. It didn't seem any different from his London. At least, that was before they reached the Leaky Cauldron, an out of the way pub that appeared to be hiding from the street in a sense. Tim could sense the familiar tingle of magic as they went inside. Conversations stopped as they entered. He thought he heard some mumblings about somebody named Porter or Potter, but he didn't think anything of it.
The bartender glanced up at them, and squinted a little, "Well, there's someone I've not seen for a very long time. Ash? Is that you?"
Ash smiled in return at him, "Hello Tom, it's been a while." They shook hands over the counter.
"To say the least," he agreed, and then turned to Tim, "And this is…?" He frowned a little in thought, and it appeared like his eyes were looking toward Tim's forehead for some odd reason.
"This is Tim Hunter."
Upon the introduction, Tim could see a flicker of disappointment, but then the bartender's face brightened again. It was also then when conversations sprung back up around the room as well. The bartender remarked, "Well, then, any friend of Ash's. Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, lad. Attending Hogwarts then?"
"Er… yeah…" He glanced at Ash worriedly. How could he hide if the school was common knowledge? But then he remembered the Walker's earlier remarks about magic being more accepted here.
"Well, we have to get Tim here some supplies, so we must go for now."
"Yes, yes, quite right. You remember the way?"
He nodded, "It hasn't been that long." The two then headed through a back exit, and toward a brick wall where there were some rubbish bins off to the side.
Tim turned to him, "What did you mean supplies?"
"School supplies. They're rather specific. Books, robes, and all."
He rolled his eyes, "Next you'll be telling I need a ruddy wand as well."
"Yes, that too," Ash said as he tapped the bricks with an ash branch. They both stepped back, and watched as the bricks moved back to form an archway. He then gestured, "Go on ahead. You can find your way around from here." He handed him an envelope, "Information is in there." He turned around to leave.
"Wait!" Tim called to him, and he glanced back at him. "Where do I go?"
"You said you're the all knowing mage. I think you'll manage," Ash deadpanned, and then walked away.
Tim sighed, and with little else to do, he opened the envelope that was addressed to him. Blah-blah, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. They can't be bloody serious? Be at King's Cross Station, Platform 9 ¾ on September 1. Platform and what? He had been to King's Cross Station, and there wasn't anything there. Just two arches, one that lead to Platform 9 and the other to Platform 10. Then, again, it's magic so anything's possible.
He stepped through the archway, and glanced up and down the crowded street. It was a little like he had stepped onto a movie shoot. Old buildings lined the street, which was not uncommon in London, but there was also typically more modern buildings hunched up right along side of the old. And the people… There were many people walking around, all ages and gender, most dressed in robes in every imaginable color. Plus, he could see skeins of magic everywhere; the whole area breathed it in and out like oxygen.
"Are you Tim?" A voice, the American accent obvious in its inflection, spoke. He turned, and beheld a woman in her mid-twenties. She had dark hair, amber eyes, and nut-brown skin. The expression on her face reminded him a bit of Khara, that woman who had had a child with an angel. He hadn't seen her since Araquel's death, probably in mourning. She had helped him before, but she always seem to have an expression of wise expectation on her face, a bit like a teacher. This woman appeared to be one as well.
"Yes, I'm Tim Hunter."
"Great. I'm Cora Lowry. I'll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year, and I was likewise asked to help you around." She then added in a quieter tone, "Yes, I know of your situation, though they picked the oddest time for you to be here."
He frowned, "What do you mean?"
She shook her head, "Oh, never mind. Something you probably won't have to worry about where you're going. I understand the school's well protected." She then added, "So, you're going to be needing supplies I'll bet. Books and all. Plus I think the school's private. Uh…sorry, forget I'm in England now. You'd call it public school here, right?"
"Yeah, that's right. You're American then?"
She nodded, "By way of Philadelphia, yes. It's kind of different there."
"I know, been to America a couple of times now."
"Really, hmm… well, visiting is a little different than living there. But anyway, getting sidetracked. I can help you with getting books and stuff like that, but there's something you'll have to get yourself." She then remembered, "Oh, you'll be needing money. Shops around here don't use pounds."
"What do they use? Huge bloody stones?" He scoffed, and was rewarded with an up cuff to the back of the head.
She frowned at him, "Heard you're a bit of smart-ass. I'd keep that 'tude of yours in check around here if I was you. I don't want to have to explain to the Headmaster why you're coming to school as a frog or something."
"You're joking." He stared back in shock. Ok, he could do things like change into cats and birds himself, but apparently that wasn't very common. What kind of a world was this?
"I am, but not about that. Try to be polite, and don't piss off somebody who doesn't deserve it." Cora then went on, "Now, as I was saying, currency here's based on Galleons, Knuts, and Sickles. Um, Galleons are kind of comparable to your pounds, or dollars, though they're all in coin, not paper. An account's been set up for you over at Gringotts. It's just for while you're studying here, so think twice about any shopping sprees. Bulk of it's for school supplies and materials only."
They headed to Gringotts, and received a little trouble since the goblins first had trouble locating Hunter's account, and it took a half hour to straighten the matter. Luckily they had little trouble at the other shops. There was only one thing left to pick up, and something that Professor Lowry felt Tim should take care of alone.
* * * * *
A while later, Tim glanced up and read the sign on the building. Ollivander's, Maker of Fine Wands Since 482 BC. *Yeah, how likely was that?* He snorted to himself before entering. An elderly gentleman peered over at him from where he had been hunched at work on something. Some blasted wand probably, Tim figured.
The man studied him momentarily, and his gaze flickered upward toward Tim's forehead before making eye contact again.
"May I help you?"
"Er, yeah, I'm supposed to buy a wand, I think."
The elderly man beamed at him, "Well, that we have. I am Mr. Ollivander, and you would be hard-pressed to find a better wand than these. All hand-crafted with a core of magical substance you understand."
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, but only just. He already felt like such a dolt for simply being in here. Like hell he was going to ponce about with a wand, and be dressed like some fairy-tale wizard while he was at it. "Uh, right. So I just pick any one of them?"
He shook his head, and then commented off-handedly, "You think this is silly, don't you? I assure, there are more to them then you think. For one, they choose you, not the other way around."
"You make them sound like they're alive." Tim remarked.
"Who's to say they're not? Now, let's see. Which is your magic arm?"
Tim wasn't sure about that. He was right-handed but he tended to use whichever arm, or both to do spells. "Uh, either?"
"Let me rephrase, right or left handed?"
"Right." Tim replied, and Ollivander started measuring his arm.
"I'll admit, you're rather old to only be getting a wand now. What did you do before? Wave your hands around like a great bat?" He asked with a bit of a chuckle in his voice.
He sniffed, "Worked alright before."
"Perhaps, but this will help you hone your abilities. Here, 10 ¾ in., maple and dragon heartstring." He handed one out to Tim, who took it and stared at it. "Well, give it a wave to test it."
Tim shrugged, and waved it, but the owner plucked it from his hand immediately, "No, here, 11 ½ in., ebony and phoenix feather." Again, it was taken from him just quickly.
"No surprise, difficult to place. Not unlike a lad similar to you, but I'm sure you know about him."
"Who?"
He blinked, "Why, Harry Potter of course. For a moment, I wondered if you two were related. Though, different eyes yes, and the hair's a tad lighter, but a remarkable resemblance. Now he was a tricky one. Holly and phoenix feather, unusual combination." He then paused in thought, and went over to the counter to grab something.
"Who in the bloody hell is Harry Potter?" Tim exclaimed.
"You don't know? Curious, very curious indeed." Ollivander peered at him intently, "I don't believe I caught your name."
"Well, it isn't flipping Potter, whoever the hell he is! I'm known as Tim Hunter."
For some reason, it made the other gentleman a bit more interested in him, "Ah, yes. Heard something about you, Mr. Hunter. Your father is not unknown around here. And you do take a great deal after him, I can see that now." He smiled knowingly.
He frowned. This was a different world, how would his father ever…? But then he remembered: his real father, Tam Lin, and like his mother, also dead. He was once a falconer who could also transform into a falcon, and onetime consort of Queen Titania. Supposedly he was considered the same Tam Lin that was mentioned in legends and ballads. And Tim remembered how easy it was to reach different worlds from Faerie. So perhaps his father knew of this world too.
The owner then added, "In fact, he gave me something, and asked for a favor. A special request order, should his son ever find this world."
And he handed over a wand. "12 ½ in., rowan wood, and a very unique core, a falcon tail feather." Off Tim's look of surprise, he continued, "Oh yes, a feather donated from one Transfigured Tam Lin."
Tim wordlessly took the wand, and didn't even have to give it a wave. The polished surface seemed to glow, and he thought he could hear the distant cry of a falcon. "Do I owe you anything?"
"No. Not a thing. As I said, I could not sell it to anyone else. And this is simply a debt that is now paid in full. Take good care of it, and it will serve you well."
"Er, yeah right. Cheers," Tim quietly said, and left quickly with a troubled expression.
The owner watched him leave, and remarked to himself, "So the Merlin himself is here. Perhaps there is hope yet."
* * * * *
Elsewhere in Diagon Alley, Harry was picking up his supplies for the school year, along with the Weasleys.
"I can't believe we really need all these books. How do they expect us to read them all?" Ron grumbled loudly to Harry.
Mrs. Weasley replied, "You both have your O.W.L.'s this year. And Ron, I do hope you do well on them." She was a bit concerned since his older brothers, Fred and George, liked to goof off more than take tests. Ron didn't think it was that big a deal since his other older brothers had done well on them, especially Percy. Though he knew his grades were only good, partly from hard studying, and partly from Hermione helping him, and Harry with their work. Only in guidance however, as she considered it, since she was adamant against doing people's work for them.
Harry had been feeling a little uneasy since they arrived in the marketplace. He felt rather queer, and at times, like he was in two places at once. His scar wasn't bothering him for once, so he didn't think too much of it.
A little later, Mrs. Weasley had taken Ginny over to get potion supplies, and told them to meet over at Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlor. But as Ron and Harry turned the corner, they thought they saw somebody dressed in muggle clothes leaving from Ollivander's. As they got closer, they both were struck by the fact that the boy heading down the street looked a lot like Harry. But as they hurried after him to find out, he vanished into the crowd.
"Well, that was strange." Ron commented.
Harry nodded, "Yeah." He looked around, and said, "We should probably head back."
"Right." Ron agreed, but Harry wondered who it was. Plus, he remembered someone else who shared similar looks to him, someone who while was much older now, was also back in full power. The boy they saw also looked a great deal like Tom Riddle, aka Voldemort.
