Chapter 5: New Look Harry

After he thought he had done everything he needed to, Harry decided to take Draco's advice and get a 'new look'. Draco had popped in to the S.P.E.W. shop while Harry was also paying a visit, and had made a very generous donation, telling Harry that he should visit O'Hare's Barber and I.C.U. Glass's Optician. Harry still hadn't told Hermione about Neddy, and was wondering what she'd say when she found out.

I.C.U. Glass's was a small shop with a massive pair of spectacles above the door – they looked big enough to fit the giant Grawp. Grawp was Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts', half-brother and was progressively learning English. Harry had recently met Hagrid in Knockturn Alley – the huge man was overjoyed to see Harry and pulled him into a tight hug that nearly killed him. Harry pushed open the door to find a room that was completely devoid of glasses.  

"Er … hello," he said to Mr. Glass, a small man in spectacles that were five times too big for him. "I'd like to get some new glasses."

"Right," squeaked Mr. Glass. "Give me your old ones then."

Harry did so – the shopkeeper placed them on an instrument not unlike the wand-weigher at the Ministry of Magic. It vibrated slightly then … KERCHING!

An entire wall had filled with a vast array of glasses, each just the right size for Harry, but in a huge variety of types. There were glasses like Harry's old ones, shades, tinted glasses, glasses in twelve different colours, glasses that flashed twelve different colours, glasses that gave out light, glasses that gave you eagle vision …

"Er …" said Harry. "Can I try some on?"

"Certainly," squeaked Mr. Glass.

Harry put on pair of glasses after pair of glasses, but in the end he chose some black shades with eyepieces shaped like birds' wings, paid Mr. Glass three Galleons, eighteen Sickles, twenty-eight Knuts, and left to O'Hare's.

The owner of O'Hare's had a German mother and an Irish father, and liked to be called Herr O'Hare, Draco had told Harry. When Harry entered he stood up and greeted him in German: "Guten Morgen."    

"Hello," said Harry. "I was wondering – could you give me anything to make my hair grow quicker?" He had decided he wanted a style like his dead godfather's, but he didn't really want to grow it naturally – it would take at least a year and probably more.

"You vos vondering correctly," said Herr O'Hare in a strong accent. "Ve haf a large selection of different potions to make hair grow long. Vud you like to try Madam Nitt's?"

"Oh, all right," said Harry. "How much will it be?"

"It vill be elefen silfer Sickles a yar," said Herr O'Hare. "It iss the best falue ve haf."

He handed over a jar of blue liquid. Harry passed him the money. "Can I put it on now?"

"Ja."

Harry broke the seal and took out some of the potion. It was sticky to the touch. "Rub it in vell," said Herr O'Hare. Harry placed some on his hair, spread it all over and felt long hair tickle his shoulders. He touched it. It was greasy to feel.

"You vill need to put it on efery veek." 

"OK. Do you have anything to remove the grease?" Harry asked. He thought he had found out from where Snape got his hairstyle.

"Oh, ja, natürlich. Take diss. It vill be twelf Sickles." He handed Harry a bottle of green potion. Harry poured some over his head. There was a fizzling noise and Harry's head burned hot for a second, and the grease was gone.

"Thank you very much."

"It iss a pleasure. Auf Wiedersehen."  

 As Harry walked back to the Leaky Cauldron so he could get home, he noticed another of his old friends: a seventeen-year-old girl with protuberant eyes and straggly blonde hair.  "Luna!" he exclaimed.

The girl looked at him oddly. "Who are you?"

Harry laughed. Of course, the new look! "Harry," he said, taking off his glasses. Everything went rather blurry. "I'm Harry."

"Oh," said Luna. "Right. Hello." And she hugged him, kissed him and walked off, leaving Harry feeling rather strange. He put on his glasses and called her back. "Luna!"

She turned. "Yes?"

"How are you? You're here for your Hogwarts things, I suppose?"

"Yes. Have you got a job yet?"

"Yeah – I'm becoming an Auror!" grinned Harry.

"Great. Did you see that Terma Oh Ducca fly over the other day?"

"No. I'm going to the World Cup next week!"

"Really? Dad couldn't get tickets, again. Well, I'm in a hurry, bye!" She left, humming a tune.

"Master, sir, master, I is seeing Dobby, and Winky, and Harry, sir!" squeaked Neddy when Harry arrived home.

"Really?" asked Harry, sitting down on a bright red England Quidditch chair. Dobby and Winky were house-elves who were mad about Harry, and their son of the same name was very cute. "Where?"

"In the village, sir. They is taking their holidays there."

"Did they want to see me?" questioned Harry.

"Yes, sir, they did, sir. They is here, sir, now, sir. Behind you, sir!"

Harry turned to see the three elves giggling behind him. "Hi," he breathed.

"Good morning, Mr. Harry Potter!" squeaked Dobby and Winky, whilst Harry the baby elf waved.

"How are you?" asked Harry.

"Never better, sir!" said Dobby. "We has got you lunch!" He clicked his long fingers and food appeared on the kitchen table – a full roast meal.

Harry gasped. He hadn't had such a good meal since he left Hogwarts. Hermione's cooking tended to be slightly burnt, Ron could just about make toast with his wand, the Leaky Cauldron was expensive and Neddy's cooking was good, but of course it was hard work for him to make it all on his own. Harry could make breakfast; he had done it for the Dursleys many times; but not much else. "Thanks, Dobby, Winky … Harry!" he said. The small elf smiled. "This is great! Give some to Hedwig, Neddy."

"Of course, sir," squeaked the elf, and Harry began to tuck in, the small elf who was named after him stealing scraps of food while Winky tried to drag him back.