A/N: Sorry for such a long delay guys and gals I just really hope this doesn't disappoint. You know the drill by now though, just R+R for me and I may consider not making you wait for so long before I post the next chapter.
Chapter 10.
To Hogwarts we will go. Part 2.
Now as it was, Harry found himself with a problem. His route to Hogwarts had all been planned out so that was fine. Well, fine except for the fact that Remus and Sirius had made him promise not to deviate from the chosen path at all. He hated breaking promises, and would normally never even consider it unless he really needed to. This unfortunately fell under the latter consideration. Unknown to his friends; and his godfather, over the summer Harry had developed a certain destructive addiction that he was not proud of. Nevertheless though, it was still and addiction, and one that had driven him crazy for the past fortnight at the Burrow. The insanity had almost reached its peak when Bill had pulled out a long clay pipe one night in the garden, and had proceeded to share it with the adults around the table. Harry had developed an addiction to nicotine, and though he was not quite ready for a pipe yet, the smoke still made it very hard to stay quiet.
Now though, as he soared over London on his birthday present; the big black bike, trying to make out the Hogwarts express in the distance, he found himself once again gripped in the throes of that craving. Fighting against his own conscience and morals for what seemed like the thousandth time, he turned the handles of the bike; breaking his promise to Sirius, and started to circle London, getting lower and lower with each cycle. To his great surprise he found that he was zeroing in on the Leaky Cauldron; a stroke of luck, but a surprise nonetheless. Finding his way to the back of the building, and the yard that housed the muggle wheelie bins, he executed a no less than perfect landing and switched off the engine. He noticed the complete silence almost immediately; his legs missing the now familiar vibrations of the bikes engine, and was about to take off his helmet, when he noticed the open windows at the back of the inn. The people inside; inebriated as they were, were obviously aware of his presence. They would have heard the bike pull in, and would obviously think it very strange that a Hogwarts pupil; and a very famous one at that, was in one instance absent from school and in another, illegally riding a flying motorbike. But this was a problem he already had an answer to.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Now how do you hide in a crowd of people, from a dark wizard, who has your face magically ingrained on his minds eye?" was the question that Dumbledore had asked Harry all those months ago. At the start of his sixth year at Hogwarts, he Ron and Hermione found that they had extra lessons on Sundays, when no one else did. What worried him more was that on his first Sunday there, he, Ron and Hermione, had awoken to find themselves in the Chamber of Secrets. Not only that, but Harry had sat up and come face to face with Lord Voldemort; in all his glory, surrounded by his Death Eaters, all with their wands out. As Hermione screamed though, the figures around them melted away in a smoky haze, Leaving Dumbledore, McGonnagal, Mad Eye Moody, and the Marauders, looking down at them. When Hermione finally got over the disgust at what she believed was the sickest practical joke ever, Dumbledore explained.
The new lessons they were to attend were for those three and for them only. Against the curriculum, and the laws of the Ministry, Dumbledore and the other wizards assembled would be teaching them how to defend themselves against the most powerful dark magic, and how to destroy it. Their lessons would cover duelling, protection, magic without wands and most importantly, the Unforgivable curses. All of these had been briefly touched upon before, but now they would become master of these disciplines. They would need to if they were to survive another confrontation, with Lord Voldemort.
So they had worked for months, for hours and hours every Sunday, to that very end. One day though, Dumbledore was smiling at them. He had hinted that they would have fun that day. But when he had asked that strange question, their apprehension grew. 'What did Dumbledore have planned?' was the question forefront on their minds. His lesson turned out to be quite enjoyable however, starting from the moment his body changed into that of a man in his mid twenties who bore no resemblance to Dumbledore whatsoever. His lesson, they found out, would teach them to take on a completely different appearance; a good spell to know if you ever had to hide out for a while. Hermione was obviously the first person to manage the spell, shocking both Harry and Ron with how much she resembled their respective mothers. Spurred on by his soon-to-be girlfriend's success, Ron changed next. His new persona was a mix between Remus and Sirius. He had the round, jolly but tired face of Remus mixed with the penetrating eyes and strong stature of Sirius. He also had long straight black hair down to his knees, which he spent the rest of the day stroking lovingly…
***********
Harry silently murmured the spell, and suddenly felt his head change shape inside the helmet, just as he pictured his own transformation last year. Feeling the neck strap become tighter around his Adam's apple, he quickly undid it and pulled his helmet off slowly. His Goth clothes; baggy as they always were, felt decidedly tighter around his shoulders and crotch. Taking this as a sign that the transformation was complete, he carefully got off the bike, remembering to put the stand down to the floor. Taking off his glasses, as his new body didn't seem to need them, he placed them in his pocket and stretched a bit, getting used to his slightly exaggerated frame. Once he was ready he moved away from his bike, and made for the back door of the Leaky Cauldron. As he got closer, he caught his reflection in the small window and smiled widely. Before him stood the reflection of a strikingly handsome young man, with coal black hair and eyes to match. His hair was short, cut no more than two inches from his head, and it was stylishly arranged… for a muggle. His shoulders were broader than Harry's, and his crisp, sculpted body, hung from his cheekbones like a fine Armani suit. Harry's favourite part of all of this however was his forehead, his completely scar free forehead.
He pushed the back door open and felt his addiction momentarily waver, as the sweet smell of flavoured Wizard tobacco touched his senses. The next thing he noticed was the same in any pub he had ever been in; the patrons dotted around took your measure, and went back to their own business. Harry however knew all to well that appearances were more than deceiving; he preferred to keep a close eye on anyone he didn't trust, which left the rest of the world bar a handful. Sat before him a group of very old and decrepit looking wizards argued about the true Wizard Chess champion. He chuckled as he heard them mention Dumbledore's name in there, and pressed on instead of butting in to agree. In the far corner, sat a group of ugly looking goblins; a far cry from their clean and decidedly rich cousins at Gringotts. Every once in a while one would pull out a gnarled and rusted weapon and smash it on the table just to put a point across. He smiled at their drunkenness, and turned his attention to another young drunk at the end of the bar. He was a boy Harry recognized as being a few years ahead of him in school, and he was about to meet an early grave if he didn't stop harassing the badly disguised Hag. It seemed through his beer goggles, that he didn't notice the look on her face; as she decided whether to boil him in oil, or skin him alive. At the other end of the bar though was stood Bill, the young Barman that Harry had become quite friendly with in his time here. Quite happily Harry strode straight up to him and slapped him on the back.
"Alright Bill mate, how's it going?" Harry said grinning. Bill turned to him with a startled, confused look on his face.
"I'm sorry sir, but I know the face and name of every wizard who has ever been in this establishment, but I don't know you…" he said timidly as if he was insulting Harry. Harry kicked himself hard; he couldn't believe his own stupidity, and there was no visible way of recovering. Looking around quickly, mimicking an all knowing laugh, he looked over his shoulder to the front window; possibly for a way to get out, but instead finding salvation. The Knight Bus could be seen pulling up outside and whizzing off again, after just dropping someone off. Now the Knight bus was manned by the most annoying git in the entire world, namely Stan. Not many people liked Stan and tended to try their damndest to forget every fateful meeting. This was something he could use to his advantage.
"Come on Bill you remember me, Stan's Cousin? Came on the Knight bus?" Harry blurted out with a huge cheesy grin spreading from ear to ear. He needn't have bothered that much as Bill didn't know whether to be scared of him or pity him for his relations. But Harry knew how to get along with Bill and in minutes they were best of friends. Harry could have stayed there all day to enjoy the conversation, especially when Bill introduced his very buxom blonde sister, but he was here for a reason and had already lost an hour of the day. Pushing Lucinda gently off of his lap, he tapped Bill and downed his Tankard in one motion.
"Is there any chance of something to smoke around here? Muggle cigarettes if you know of them?"
"There is as it happens…" he paused for a while as if trying to remember someone else asking him the same question, "There' a new shop in Knockturn Alley, but you don't have to go in that far, so don't worry," He said as if Harry had never been down Knockturn before. After Bill gave him general directions, and Harry asked him to look after his bike, he walked out the back door and began to tap the stones in the wall with his wand.
**********
Diagon Alley had been extremely quiet as he had just walked through; he didn't bump into one person. It was a damn sight different than it had been the day before when they had been there to buy their things. Harry supposed that all the wizarding parents had spent all of their money the day before, and now they were working to recover from the bankruptcy that is… having children. But Harry knew where he was headed.
He took a right turn as soon as he got to Gringotts; he didn't need to make a transaction today. Immediately he was plunged into another world. As it had been the first day he had set eyes on Diagon Alley, now Knockturn Alley seemed so alien to him. He could feel the eyes upon him; only some of them human, but he paid them no attention. He knew that most of these eyes would have attacked him by now for the bounty on his head; had his head actually been that of Harry Potter. Straight away he found the shop that Bill had spoken about. It was quite brightly lit for Knockturn Alley, with all manner of smoking devices in the windows. As he looked at the name of the shop; YE OLDE WORLDE TOBACCONIST, he wondered if the owner had been in any alternative muggle shops before.
As he entered though he fought to push horrible memories out of his head, as his senses were assaulted by the smell of Marijuana. Forcing himself to forget about the club that was no more than a mile away, he headed deeper into the shop. When he got to the front he was shocked to find that it was like any other tobacconist, with a huge display stand behind the desk, filled with cigarettes and tobaccos from all over the world. Sitting on a small stool behind the glass cabinet desk; which was filled with pipes and ornate bongs, was a quite attractive woman. Well, attractive until Harry noticed the centipedes and Beetles that her arm was composed of. He normally would have shrunk back from this, but his new body plodded on. As he drew closer she looked up at him, and broke into a toothless grin.
"Hello friend," her voice was like slime over gravel, and it sent a shiver down his spine, which he hoped didn't register in his features. He put on his most sinister devious smile possible and leant over the counter towards her.
"I've heard you've got some never ending cigarettes for sale…" he left the last words hanging in the air, a malevolent reminder that if she tried to trick him, he'd kill her outright. Her lips thinned as her smile became slightly strained, as she caught his understanding. She bent down a little and pulled something out of what seemed like thin air behind the glass counter. When she righted herself she placed a pack of twenty Marlboro Red. He looked at her and smirked, "If it's never ending then why do I need twenty of the bastard things?" his voice was loud and corse, but he was only warning her.
"I'm sorry sir," her slimey voice more sure of itself now, "but people do tend to lose a few so I sell them in Muggle packs, just so they're always on hand if you do…" She was smiling but her eyes showed she feared him. His clothes were a major affront to the traditional wizard robe, and as all wizards had been taught; wizards with that much apparent disrespect, were always ones to be feared, "If it pleases sir, I could give you a discount; first time buyer and all that…" the look of hope in her eyes was pleasing to Harry and he let his demeanour warm a little. She was visibly pleased by this an held them out to him, "One Gold Galleon please…" He smiled warmly at her, as they exchanged money for goods; she obviously wasn't cut out for this kind of thing. He tilted his head in his own way of saying goodbye and made for the front of the shop. As he reached the door he pulled out one of the cigarettes and put it in his mouth. With his wand he mumbled a spell and the tip set the cigarette alight. With one short drag he was outside, and revelling in the smoke as it passed through his system. He smiled at the looks he was getting from passer-by and was about to start blowing smoke rings when he heard a distinctive POP, from the alley next to him. Taking the fag away from his lips, he cocked his head around to see a heavily robed figure standing in the darkness. As Harry skulked back into the shadows of the shop doorway he was in, the figure stepped out onto the street.
BANG! A boy had ran headlong into the figure, their robes becoming entangled, causing his hood to open. Harry still couldn't see who the figure was but the boy was staring straight at him.
"Sir, Mr. M…" the boy was shaken out of his sentence as the figure pulled their robes apart. Then the figure grabbed the boy and pulled him bodily off the floor, so their faces were inches apart.
"You say my name out loud boy and it'll be the last thing you ever do!" the figure whispered and the boy ran back in the direction he had come from. The figure hid its face again, but Harry had heard everything he needed to. Stubbing out his cigarette and watching for a second as it grew back, he followed Lucius Malfoy down the road.
**********
The shop he found himself outside was like an anti-Flourish and Blotts. The books in the front window were old, tattered and covered in cobwebs. As he looked through the window, he saw Lucius. He had taken down his hood and was very impatiently, slamming his hand down on the bell. Looking around to make sure that no one was there, he pulled his invisibility cloak out of his bag, and wrapped it around him. Making sure not to make any noise, he pushed open the door and stepped in, thanking the god of cleaners for the dust which masked his footsteps. As he got closer to the desk, the clerk ran out with a disgusted look on his face, and almost ran back in when he was faced with Malfoy's impatience.
"Mr. Peregrin, so wonderful of you to pay attention. I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd stop by to pick up a book, for my illustrious master. Anything in particular you'd think he'd like?" Mr. Peregrin was about to say no when Malfoy's staff came crashing down on the counter turning a very old book to dust, "DO NOT TRY AND FOOL ME PEREGRIN!!! I know you have that book…" he paused to compose himself a little bit. "Now let me refresh your memory of the book I'm talking about. It's very old, leather bound, MERLIN wrote it, it has a jewel shaped like a phoenix on the front… Need I go on, or do I need to get my Master to make a visit. I'm sure he'd be dreadfully UNHAPPY to oblige…" He let his words hang in the air like icy cold water that every once in a while trickled down the back of your neck and made your skin crawl. Shaking with fear Peregrin almost fell back through the door, to look for the book.
//Merlin wrote it?// Harry thought to himself as he silently followed, //He was the most powerful wizard ever, Voldemort can't get that!!!// he rushed after Peregrin and found him violently throwing boxes about the place. Wherever he had put the book, it wasn't there anymore. Harry smiled to himself for a second, at the thought that Voldemort may never get it, but then a sparkling light caught his eye. It was right next to where Peregrin was looking but far enough out of the way for him to risk it. So silently he could have sneaked up on a Ninja, Harry placed the cloak over the pile of books and shuffled away with them, still hidden from Peregrin. With a quick check over his shoulder to make sure that Peregrin wasn't looking, he pulled the pile apart. Finally he found the sparkle, a gold crest of arms which was dominated by a fiery red phoenix. Above and below the bird were written the words, GRIMORUM ARCANORUM, but he would have to find out what that meant later. Pushing the book into his bag he made sure the cloak was tight around him and made a run for it. As he broke out of the corridor, he noticed the confusion on Malfoy's face. He could obviously hear Harry but he couldn't see him. Harry smiled at this, and remained thankful that he had left the shop door open. It took him a second to round the counter, and with that he was gone.
***********
Panting and nursing his knee, he slammed heavily against the side of his bike, as he collapsed to sit on the floor. He had ran straight back to his bike, as soon as he had emerged from the shop. Only looking back to check if he was being followed. Unfortunately he should have been looking forward in one of these instances, and had smashed headlong into the same boy Malfoy had hit earlier. The boy ran away screaming believing he had been cursed, while Harry raced back here. Now that he wasn't running on it however he realised how much damage that knock had really done. To get his mind off of the pain, he pulled the book out of his bag and opened it; wincing as he put it down on his bad knee. The first page was an old handrawn picture, of Merlin himself; who Harry had to say, looked an awful lot like Dumbledore. When he opened the next page it was surprisingly blank. He shrugged at this and kept turning, but they still kept coming up blank. The lightbulb above his head suddenly clicked on and he went back to the picture of Merlin at the beginning. He was about to touch Merlins nose with his wand when the picture began to move.
"Ohhh please do, that's been itching for millennia," As the picture spoke Harry smiled. It sounded Like Dumbledore aswell. He willingly scratched the nose of the picture, watching as the picture let out a very satisfied sigh, "Thank you ever so much for that. You have no idea how good that feels…" he paused now to regard his saviour and suddenly smiled widely, "SO… your Harry Potter, I've been waiting to bump into you," Harry was very surprised that the picture knew who he was but suddenly a blast of white magic came from the book, and he was himself again, "There, much more comfortable, don't you agree?" he said his voice ancient but warm, sending reassuring thoughts through his mind. But all of a sudden he started to look around, startled by what he saw. He took a minute doing this and then looked back at Harry, "Mr. Potter, why aren't you at school?" Before Harry could even say anything, he felt a wet patch on his arse that was getting bigger by the second. He felt underneath, but felt wet grass all around him. He suddenly realised it had gotten much darker, and when he looked up he realised why. Before him; lights shining in every window, stood Hogwarts, framed by stars in all its glory. He was on the opposite side of the lake and could barely make out the students climbing the front stairs. He looked down into his lap and saw the book laying there closed. The phoenix on the front sparkled and glowed in the darkness and then winked out. He looked down at the book, then up at the Castle, and then back at the book. Finally he got off of his arse and got onto his bike.
"Cool…"
Chapter 10.
To Hogwarts we will go. Part 2.
Now as it was, Harry found himself with a problem. His route to Hogwarts had all been planned out so that was fine. Well, fine except for the fact that Remus and Sirius had made him promise not to deviate from the chosen path at all. He hated breaking promises, and would normally never even consider it unless he really needed to. This unfortunately fell under the latter consideration. Unknown to his friends; and his godfather, over the summer Harry had developed a certain destructive addiction that he was not proud of. Nevertheless though, it was still and addiction, and one that had driven him crazy for the past fortnight at the Burrow. The insanity had almost reached its peak when Bill had pulled out a long clay pipe one night in the garden, and had proceeded to share it with the adults around the table. Harry had developed an addiction to nicotine, and though he was not quite ready for a pipe yet, the smoke still made it very hard to stay quiet.
Now though, as he soared over London on his birthday present; the big black bike, trying to make out the Hogwarts express in the distance, he found himself once again gripped in the throes of that craving. Fighting against his own conscience and morals for what seemed like the thousandth time, he turned the handles of the bike; breaking his promise to Sirius, and started to circle London, getting lower and lower with each cycle. To his great surprise he found that he was zeroing in on the Leaky Cauldron; a stroke of luck, but a surprise nonetheless. Finding his way to the back of the building, and the yard that housed the muggle wheelie bins, he executed a no less than perfect landing and switched off the engine. He noticed the complete silence almost immediately; his legs missing the now familiar vibrations of the bikes engine, and was about to take off his helmet, when he noticed the open windows at the back of the inn. The people inside; inebriated as they were, were obviously aware of his presence. They would have heard the bike pull in, and would obviously think it very strange that a Hogwarts pupil; and a very famous one at that, was in one instance absent from school and in another, illegally riding a flying motorbike. But this was a problem he already had an answer to.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
"Now how do you hide in a crowd of people, from a dark wizard, who has your face magically ingrained on his minds eye?" was the question that Dumbledore had asked Harry all those months ago. At the start of his sixth year at Hogwarts, he Ron and Hermione found that they had extra lessons on Sundays, when no one else did. What worried him more was that on his first Sunday there, he, Ron and Hermione, had awoken to find themselves in the Chamber of Secrets. Not only that, but Harry had sat up and come face to face with Lord Voldemort; in all his glory, surrounded by his Death Eaters, all with their wands out. As Hermione screamed though, the figures around them melted away in a smoky haze, Leaving Dumbledore, McGonnagal, Mad Eye Moody, and the Marauders, looking down at them. When Hermione finally got over the disgust at what she believed was the sickest practical joke ever, Dumbledore explained.
The new lessons they were to attend were for those three and for them only. Against the curriculum, and the laws of the Ministry, Dumbledore and the other wizards assembled would be teaching them how to defend themselves against the most powerful dark magic, and how to destroy it. Their lessons would cover duelling, protection, magic without wands and most importantly, the Unforgivable curses. All of these had been briefly touched upon before, but now they would become master of these disciplines. They would need to if they were to survive another confrontation, with Lord Voldemort.
So they had worked for months, for hours and hours every Sunday, to that very end. One day though, Dumbledore was smiling at them. He had hinted that they would have fun that day. But when he had asked that strange question, their apprehension grew. 'What did Dumbledore have planned?' was the question forefront on their minds. His lesson turned out to be quite enjoyable however, starting from the moment his body changed into that of a man in his mid twenties who bore no resemblance to Dumbledore whatsoever. His lesson, they found out, would teach them to take on a completely different appearance; a good spell to know if you ever had to hide out for a while. Hermione was obviously the first person to manage the spell, shocking both Harry and Ron with how much she resembled their respective mothers. Spurred on by his soon-to-be girlfriend's success, Ron changed next. His new persona was a mix between Remus and Sirius. He had the round, jolly but tired face of Remus mixed with the penetrating eyes and strong stature of Sirius. He also had long straight black hair down to his knees, which he spent the rest of the day stroking lovingly…
***********
Harry silently murmured the spell, and suddenly felt his head change shape inside the helmet, just as he pictured his own transformation last year. Feeling the neck strap become tighter around his Adam's apple, he quickly undid it and pulled his helmet off slowly. His Goth clothes; baggy as they always were, felt decidedly tighter around his shoulders and crotch. Taking this as a sign that the transformation was complete, he carefully got off the bike, remembering to put the stand down to the floor. Taking off his glasses, as his new body didn't seem to need them, he placed them in his pocket and stretched a bit, getting used to his slightly exaggerated frame. Once he was ready he moved away from his bike, and made for the back door of the Leaky Cauldron. As he got closer, he caught his reflection in the small window and smiled widely. Before him stood the reflection of a strikingly handsome young man, with coal black hair and eyes to match. His hair was short, cut no more than two inches from his head, and it was stylishly arranged… for a muggle. His shoulders were broader than Harry's, and his crisp, sculpted body, hung from his cheekbones like a fine Armani suit. Harry's favourite part of all of this however was his forehead, his completely scar free forehead.
He pushed the back door open and felt his addiction momentarily waver, as the sweet smell of flavoured Wizard tobacco touched his senses. The next thing he noticed was the same in any pub he had ever been in; the patrons dotted around took your measure, and went back to their own business. Harry however knew all to well that appearances were more than deceiving; he preferred to keep a close eye on anyone he didn't trust, which left the rest of the world bar a handful. Sat before him a group of very old and decrepit looking wizards argued about the true Wizard Chess champion. He chuckled as he heard them mention Dumbledore's name in there, and pressed on instead of butting in to agree. In the far corner, sat a group of ugly looking goblins; a far cry from their clean and decidedly rich cousins at Gringotts. Every once in a while one would pull out a gnarled and rusted weapon and smash it on the table just to put a point across. He smiled at their drunkenness, and turned his attention to another young drunk at the end of the bar. He was a boy Harry recognized as being a few years ahead of him in school, and he was about to meet an early grave if he didn't stop harassing the badly disguised Hag. It seemed through his beer goggles, that he didn't notice the look on her face; as she decided whether to boil him in oil, or skin him alive. At the other end of the bar though was stood Bill, the young Barman that Harry had become quite friendly with in his time here. Quite happily Harry strode straight up to him and slapped him on the back.
"Alright Bill mate, how's it going?" Harry said grinning. Bill turned to him with a startled, confused look on his face.
"I'm sorry sir, but I know the face and name of every wizard who has ever been in this establishment, but I don't know you…" he said timidly as if he was insulting Harry. Harry kicked himself hard; he couldn't believe his own stupidity, and there was no visible way of recovering. Looking around quickly, mimicking an all knowing laugh, he looked over his shoulder to the front window; possibly for a way to get out, but instead finding salvation. The Knight Bus could be seen pulling up outside and whizzing off again, after just dropping someone off. Now the Knight bus was manned by the most annoying git in the entire world, namely Stan. Not many people liked Stan and tended to try their damndest to forget every fateful meeting. This was something he could use to his advantage.
"Come on Bill you remember me, Stan's Cousin? Came on the Knight bus?" Harry blurted out with a huge cheesy grin spreading from ear to ear. He needn't have bothered that much as Bill didn't know whether to be scared of him or pity him for his relations. But Harry knew how to get along with Bill and in minutes they were best of friends. Harry could have stayed there all day to enjoy the conversation, especially when Bill introduced his very buxom blonde sister, but he was here for a reason and had already lost an hour of the day. Pushing Lucinda gently off of his lap, he tapped Bill and downed his Tankard in one motion.
"Is there any chance of something to smoke around here? Muggle cigarettes if you know of them?"
"There is as it happens…" he paused for a while as if trying to remember someone else asking him the same question, "There' a new shop in Knockturn Alley, but you don't have to go in that far, so don't worry," He said as if Harry had never been down Knockturn before. After Bill gave him general directions, and Harry asked him to look after his bike, he walked out the back door and began to tap the stones in the wall with his wand.
**********
Diagon Alley had been extremely quiet as he had just walked through; he didn't bump into one person. It was a damn sight different than it had been the day before when they had been there to buy their things. Harry supposed that all the wizarding parents had spent all of their money the day before, and now they were working to recover from the bankruptcy that is… having children. But Harry knew where he was headed.
He took a right turn as soon as he got to Gringotts; he didn't need to make a transaction today. Immediately he was plunged into another world. As it had been the first day he had set eyes on Diagon Alley, now Knockturn Alley seemed so alien to him. He could feel the eyes upon him; only some of them human, but he paid them no attention. He knew that most of these eyes would have attacked him by now for the bounty on his head; had his head actually been that of Harry Potter. Straight away he found the shop that Bill had spoken about. It was quite brightly lit for Knockturn Alley, with all manner of smoking devices in the windows. As he looked at the name of the shop; YE OLDE WORLDE TOBACCONIST, he wondered if the owner had been in any alternative muggle shops before.
As he entered though he fought to push horrible memories out of his head, as his senses were assaulted by the smell of Marijuana. Forcing himself to forget about the club that was no more than a mile away, he headed deeper into the shop. When he got to the front he was shocked to find that it was like any other tobacconist, with a huge display stand behind the desk, filled with cigarettes and tobaccos from all over the world. Sitting on a small stool behind the glass cabinet desk; which was filled with pipes and ornate bongs, was a quite attractive woman. Well, attractive until Harry noticed the centipedes and Beetles that her arm was composed of. He normally would have shrunk back from this, but his new body plodded on. As he drew closer she looked up at him, and broke into a toothless grin.
"Hello friend," her voice was like slime over gravel, and it sent a shiver down his spine, which he hoped didn't register in his features. He put on his most sinister devious smile possible and leant over the counter towards her.
"I've heard you've got some never ending cigarettes for sale…" he left the last words hanging in the air, a malevolent reminder that if she tried to trick him, he'd kill her outright. Her lips thinned as her smile became slightly strained, as she caught his understanding. She bent down a little and pulled something out of what seemed like thin air behind the glass counter. When she righted herself she placed a pack of twenty Marlboro Red. He looked at her and smirked, "If it's never ending then why do I need twenty of the bastard things?" his voice was loud and corse, but he was only warning her.
"I'm sorry sir," her slimey voice more sure of itself now, "but people do tend to lose a few so I sell them in Muggle packs, just so they're always on hand if you do…" She was smiling but her eyes showed she feared him. His clothes were a major affront to the traditional wizard robe, and as all wizards had been taught; wizards with that much apparent disrespect, were always ones to be feared, "If it pleases sir, I could give you a discount; first time buyer and all that…" the look of hope in her eyes was pleasing to Harry and he let his demeanour warm a little. She was visibly pleased by this an held them out to him, "One Gold Galleon please…" He smiled warmly at her, as they exchanged money for goods; she obviously wasn't cut out for this kind of thing. He tilted his head in his own way of saying goodbye and made for the front of the shop. As he reached the door he pulled out one of the cigarettes and put it in his mouth. With his wand he mumbled a spell and the tip set the cigarette alight. With one short drag he was outside, and revelling in the smoke as it passed through his system. He smiled at the looks he was getting from passer-by and was about to start blowing smoke rings when he heard a distinctive POP, from the alley next to him. Taking the fag away from his lips, he cocked his head around to see a heavily robed figure standing in the darkness. As Harry skulked back into the shadows of the shop doorway he was in, the figure stepped out onto the street.
BANG! A boy had ran headlong into the figure, their robes becoming entangled, causing his hood to open. Harry still couldn't see who the figure was but the boy was staring straight at him.
"Sir, Mr. M…" the boy was shaken out of his sentence as the figure pulled their robes apart. Then the figure grabbed the boy and pulled him bodily off the floor, so their faces were inches apart.
"You say my name out loud boy and it'll be the last thing you ever do!" the figure whispered and the boy ran back in the direction he had come from. The figure hid its face again, but Harry had heard everything he needed to. Stubbing out his cigarette and watching for a second as it grew back, he followed Lucius Malfoy down the road.
**********
The shop he found himself outside was like an anti-Flourish and Blotts. The books in the front window were old, tattered and covered in cobwebs. As he looked through the window, he saw Lucius. He had taken down his hood and was very impatiently, slamming his hand down on the bell. Looking around to make sure that no one was there, he pulled his invisibility cloak out of his bag, and wrapped it around him. Making sure not to make any noise, he pushed open the door and stepped in, thanking the god of cleaners for the dust which masked his footsteps. As he got closer to the desk, the clerk ran out with a disgusted look on his face, and almost ran back in when he was faced with Malfoy's impatience.
"Mr. Peregrin, so wonderful of you to pay attention. I was in the neighbourhood and thought I'd stop by to pick up a book, for my illustrious master. Anything in particular you'd think he'd like?" Mr. Peregrin was about to say no when Malfoy's staff came crashing down on the counter turning a very old book to dust, "DO NOT TRY AND FOOL ME PEREGRIN!!! I know you have that book…" he paused to compose himself a little bit. "Now let me refresh your memory of the book I'm talking about. It's very old, leather bound, MERLIN wrote it, it has a jewel shaped like a phoenix on the front… Need I go on, or do I need to get my Master to make a visit. I'm sure he'd be dreadfully UNHAPPY to oblige…" He let his words hang in the air like icy cold water that every once in a while trickled down the back of your neck and made your skin crawl. Shaking with fear Peregrin almost fell back through the door, to look for the book.
//Merlin wrote it?// Harry thought to himself as he silently followed, //He was the most powerful wizard ever, Voldemort can't get that!!!// he rushed after Peregrin and found him violently throwing boxes about the place. Wherever he had put the book, it wasn't there anymore. Harry smiled to himself for a second, at the thought that Voldemort may never get it, but then a sparkling light caught his eye. It was right next to where Peregrin was looking but far enough out of the way for him to risk it. So silently he could have sneaked up on a Ninja, Harry placed the cloak over the pile of books and shuffled away with them, still hidden from Peregrin. With a quick check over his shoulder to make sure that Peregrin wasn't looking, he pulled the pile apart. Finally he found the sparkle, a gold crest of arms which was dominated by a fiery red phoenix. Above and below the bird were written the words, GRIMORUM ARCANORUM, but he would have to find out what that meant later. Pushing the book into his bag he made sure the cloak was tight around him and made a run for it. As he broke out of the corridor, he noticed the confusion on Malfoy's face. He could obviously hear Harry but he couldn't see him. Harry smiled at this, and remained thankful that he had left the shop door open. It took him a second to round the counter, and with that he was gone.
***********
Panting and nursing his knee, he slammed heavily against the side of his bike, as he collapsed to sit on the floor. He had ran straight back to his bike, as soon as he had emerged from the shop. Only looking back to check if he was being followed. Unfortunately he should have been looking forward in one of these instances, and had smashed headlong into the same boy Malfoy had hit earlier. The boy ran away screaming believing he had been cursed, while Harry raced back here. Now that he wasn't running on it however he realised how much damage that knock had really done. To get his mind off of the pain, he pulled the book out of his bag and opened it; wincing as he put it down on his bad knee. The first page was an old handrawn picture, of Merlin himself; who Harry had to say, looked an awful lot like Dumbledore. When he opened the next page it was surprisingly blank. He shrugged at this and kept turning, but they still kept coming up blank. The lightbulb above his head suddenly clicked on and he went back to the picture of Merlin at the beginning. He was about to touch Merlins nose with his wand when the picture began to move.
"Ohhh please do, that's been itching for millennia," As the picture spoke Harry smiled. It sounded Like Dumbledore aswell. He willingly scratched the nose of the picture, watching as the picture let out a very satisfied sigh, "Thank you ever so much for that. You have no idea how good that feels…" he paused now to regard his saviour and suddenly smiled widely, "SO… your Harry Potter, I've been waiting to bump into you," Harry was very surprised that the picture knew who he was but suddenly a blast of white magic came from the book, and he was himself again, "There, much more comfortable, don't you agree?" he said his voice ancient but warm, sending reassuring thoughts through his mind. But all of a sudden he started to look around, startled by what he saw. He took a minute doing this and then looked back at Harry, "Mr. Potter, why aren't you at school?" Before Harry could even say anything, he felt a wet patch on his arse that was getting bigger by the second. He felt underneath, but felt wet grass all around him. He suddenly realised it had gotten much darker, and when he looked up he realised why. Before him; lights shining in every window, stood Hogwarts, framed by stars in all its glory. He was on the opposite side of the lake and could barely make out the students climbing the front stairs. He looked down into his lap and saw the book laying there closed. The phoenix on the front sparkled and glowed in the darkness and then winked out. He looked down at the book, then up at the Castle, and then back at the book. Finally he got off of his arse and got onto his bike.
"Cool…"