Chapter 2: Mason and Hutt

The next day, Harry packed together all of his belongings, got on his broomstick, and flew off under his Invisibility Cloak. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia seemed very happy that he was finally out of the house – they held a huge party and invited all the neighbours round.

Harry landed outside the Leaky Cauldron, a small, shabby pub on Charing Cross Road, less than an hour later. He pulled off his Invisibility Cloak – no Muggles noticed him appearing from thin air, but a few pigeons did and hurriedly took flight. Pushing open the door, he entered the pub.

"'Morning, Mr. Potter," said Tom, the toothless old barman. "Got time for a drink?"

Harry shook his head. "No, sorry. I'll come back later. Can I leave these here?" He motioned at his trunk and broomstick.

"Of course!" smiled Tom. "Just put them down in front of the bar."

A few minutes later, Harry stepped out into Diagon Alley. There were a number of things he planned to do: get his Auror equipment, see Ron and Hermione, visit Fred and George, and then, that afternoon, take his Apparition test. He had been training to Apparate (disappear from one place and appear in another) since last summer, although his final year at school meant he had had to delay his test. Nevertheless, Andy Anzac's Apparition was very good, and he was sure he could pass with flying colours. But firstly, he wanted to buy a new house.

Where to live was something Harry had been pondering over for the last few weeks. At Auror College rooms would be provided, but he needed somewhere for the holidays. His dead godfather Sirius' old house was the Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, an organisation of volunteers that helped the Ministry of Magic track down Dark wizards, and although everyone was sure Sirius would have given it to Harry if he hadn't been an convicted, though innocent, murderer and had a say in the matter, it was a busy, noisy place and not particularly homely. What was more, it reminded Harry of his godfather's death, which he didn't like to think about. He had given his old broomstick, a Firebolt and present from Sirius, to Neville Longbottom at the start of their sixth year, and bought the new Nimbus 2500 instead. As a result, Neville had greatly improved at Quidditch with his new broom, which had helped him gain confidence in other areas. Whilst he was not brilliant, Harry thought he could at least play for an amateur side.

Looking around, Harry spotted the wizarding estate agents', Mason and Hutt. It was a small building with pictures of strange looking houses in the window. Harry went inside.

"Good morning. How may I serve you?" asked a young, blonde witch at a desk.

"Erm ..." began Harry, "I want to buy a house."

The witch nodded and smiled at him, her eyes flicking to the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead. "We have a wide selection of apartments, cottages, houses and mansions available, Mr. Potter."

Harry didn't ask how she knew his name. "Yes, well, I want something quite … cheap."

His parents had left him a small fortune, but Harry was sure that seven years at Hogwarts and a new broomstick would have reduced that significantly. Houses weren't cheap – the minimum price was at least five thousand Galleons.

"We have a nice little cottage in Godric's Hollow. You know, in Yorkshire – mostly wizarding village but with a couple of Muggle inhabitants – it's where a lot of Muggleborns send their parents when they get old."

Godric's Hollow. Where Harry's parents had lived. He'd never been there. "How much?"

"Oh, about ten thousand. It was well looked after by its last owner, so you shouldn't have to spend much on maintenance, she put lots of charms on it to keep it clean."

Ten thousand. Harry could just about afford that. He was beginning to realise how expensive it was to be a wizard – taxes had to be paid to the Ministry, although presumably he'd be left out of that as a government-employed worker, wireless licensing fees had to be paid to the WWN, food had to be bought …

"Can I look around sometime?"

"Yes, of course," replied the witch. "If you'd just like to step into the fireplace for the Floo… house is called Saddle Cottage"

The Floo – a magical transportation network – was yet another thing that would have to be paid for. Harry took a handful of powder from the pot beside the fireplace and through it into the grate. The flames roared a bright green colour. Harry stepped in and, trying not to cough, shouted "Saddle Cottage!"

He was spinning around at amazing speed, he could see fireplaces whizzing past him, he tucked his elbows in and then …

"Welcome, sir! Would you like a tour?"

It was a house-elf. Harry stood up and looked down – the bald creature had a pointed nose and bat-like ears and was wearing an old blanket. Hermione would have tried to set it free in an instant. "Do you come with the house?" asked Harry.

"Yes sir!" said the elf. "My name is Neddy. I will show you around now."

"OK," replied Harry. "So this is the kitchen, right?"

"Right," squeaked the elf. "What is your name, sir?"

"Harry Potter."

The elf gasped. "Master Potter! I is not seeing you for a long time! Welcome back!"

"Pardon?" said Harry. What was Neddy talking about?

"Before Madam Ticklit took me in, my master was your grandfather, Mr. Potter! He and his wife was killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, sir." The elf's ears drooped slightly.

"You can call him Voldemort," said Harry. "He's gone now, anyway."

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you destroyed him, sir! You are a great wizard, and kind too Neddy hears, like your father and his father as well. I remembers you when you was just a little baby, sir!"

Harry smiled. "Really? OK, show me around."

Neddy nodded. "Yes sir! This is the kitchen, as you can see, here is the fireplace, the oven and the dining table."

The elf showed Harry all around the house, as well as the kitchen, there was a hallway and a study on the ground floor, a lounge and a bedroom on the first and a bathroom and another bedroom on the second. There was also a cellar and an attic, both filled with old boxes and crates, and a garden filled with wonderful plants. "You must mind the fairies in the trees," squeaked Neddy. "They can be very selfish."

"Thanks for showing me around, Neddy," said Harry.

"It is a pleasure, sir," squeaked the elf. "I hopes you wishes to buy the cottage."

"You know what Neddy?" answered Harry. "I think I will!"