A/N: Like in the last chapter, A LOT of the passages will be taken from 'Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone' English Version ch5 'Diagon Alley'. Had to use them, it's the best way to describe things, plus all of the plot devices in this chapter. I don't own them.

P.S. I'm using the English Version because I have absolutely no clue where my American Version is. And even if I did, it's the second edition one. I lost the first edition copy a couple years ago. If you can't tell already, I'm slightly messy and scatter-brained.

Thanks to kittygirl220: I know how you feel. I want them to update Betrayal of the Best Kind or HP and the Unexpected Inheritance, two of my favs, but they haven't in a while and I'm dying!!! Another thing, my real first name is Jessica. Kinda creepy; Avlyn; JerseyGirl03; PheonixFire; and LittleEar BigEar's sis.

CH8: Meetings, Mementoes, and Magic

~"Welcome to Diagon Alley."~

Harry gaped in amazement. They stepped through the archway. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the hole shrink instantly back into a solid wall.

The pair took off down the street. Harry wished he had about eight more eyes. He turned his head in every direction as they walked, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, but mostly, the people. Harry was fascinated by the everyday lives of these witches and wizards. It was so magical and they were just shopping. A plump woman outside an apothecary's was shaking her head, saying, "Dragon Liver, sixteen Sickles an ounce, they're mad..." A hooting sound came from a dark store with a sign proclaiming 'Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy.' Several boys Harry's age were pressed up against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," he heard one say. "The new Nimbus Two Thousand - fastest ever." There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon...'It would have been great growing up around this' Harry thought sadly. He felt a pang of hate towards Voldemort for affecting his life so much. While he was glancing around, he got a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Hagrid, how am going to pay for this?"

"D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything? First stop fer us is Gringotts, the wizards' bank."

"But, wouldn't the money be in..." He tailed of. He was about to say the Potter vault, which would be foolish indeed with all these people around. Luckily, Hagrid understood.

"Nah, it's all taken care of." He winked. They had reached a snowy white building with bronze doors. Standing there was a small creature, about a head shorter than Harry, a great accomplishment since he was only 4'6''. It had a pointed beard and long fingers and feet. Harry thought he recognized it from a storybook he read as a child.

"Is that a-" he began.

"It's a goblin," Hagrid confirmed. The goblin bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing another set of doors, this time silver, with words engraved upon them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn,

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

"Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.

A pair of goblins let them through the double doors into a vast marble hall. Hundreds of other goblins were siting behind counters, writing in large books, weighing coins, examining rare stones. Lots of doors led of the hall and more goblins were leading people in and out of them. Harry and Hagrid walked up to a free counter.

"Morning," said Hagrid to the teller. "We've come ter take some money outta vault 134." The goblin gave Harry a scrutinizing look.

"You're Mr. Andrews then?" he questioned. Harry nodded. "Do you have the key?""I've got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, searching the many pockets of his coat. "Here it is." He handed over the tiny golden key.

"Seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid added, importantly. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault 713." The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well." He handed the letter back to Hagrid. "I'll get someone to take you down there. Griphook!"

Hagrid and Harry followed Griphook the goblin toward one of the doors of the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault 713?" Harry asked.

"Can't tell yer that," Hagrid said mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yer that." Harry reluctantly dropped the subject.

Griphook held the door for them and they walked into a narrow stone passage, lit with torches. There were railway tracks on the floor. When Griphook whistled, a small cart came speeding up to them. They climbed in and were off.

The cart hurdled through a an underground maze. It was like a roller coaster ride. Left, right, middle fork, right, right, left again, he didn't know how anyone could remember this. It seemed Griphook didn't need to as the cart was steering itself. The cart stopped at last and Hagrid climbed out weak-kneed. He looked rather green.

Griphook unlocked the door and Harry's eyes widened.

"Is this all mine?" he asked, staring at the mounds of gold, silver, and bronze coins. Hagrid nodded and helped Harry put some in a bag.

"The gold ones are Galleons. Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine bronze Knuts to a Sickle. It's east ter remember after a while." Harry was only half listening. He was gazing around the vault and saw a wooden box in the corner, about the size of a shoebox. He went over and picked it up.

"Vault 713 now, please." Hagrid said when they got out, turning to the goblin. "Can we go more slowly?"

"One speed only," replied Griphook and Hagrid moaned.

They were going deeper now and the air became colder and colder.

Vault 713 had no keyhole.

"Stand back," warned Griphook. He ran one long finger across the door and it melted away. "If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they would be sucked inside and trapped there."

"How often do check if anyone's in there?" Harry asked.

"About once every ten years."

Harry gulped and peered in the vault curiously. Hagrid entered, but only emerged with a tiny grubby package on the floor which he tucked in his coat. 'I wonder what's so important that it has this much security?' he thought as they got back in the cart.

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Hagrid and Harry emerged from Gringotts into the blinking sunlight. Hagrid then turned to Harry.

"Do you have yer list, Andy?"

Harry nodded and pulled out the parchment that came with his school letter. It read:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Uniform

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

Set Books

All students should have a copy each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set of glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set of brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST-YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

"Good, good. Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid. "At Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. But, listen, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? Yeh'd be fine?" Hagrid still looked rather sick, so Harry nodded his assent.

"Of course. I'll be alright."

Hagrid walked off and it was then Harry realized he had no idea where Madam Malkin's was. He would have to ask for directions. "Excuse me," he asked a girl a bit older than him. She was siting on a bench and reading a book. "Do you know where Madam Malkin's Robe shop is?" The girl looked up at him.

"First time in Diagon Alley, eh." She smiled. "It's about five shops down that way," she answered, pointing to the left.

"Alright, thank you." Harry waved at her before heading to the store. He walked inside.

Madam Malkin was a smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said. "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now in fact."

In the back was a boy with a pale face and light hair being pinned up by a second witch. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slid a long robe over his head, and began to work. "Hullo," said the boy, grinning. "Hogwarts too?"

"Yup," answered Harry. "I'm Evan Andrews, but you can call me Andy, everyone always does." He was really getting use to this whole new life deal and this boy could be good practice.

"Draco Malfoy," the boy returned. "I don't have a nickname or anything or you could call me that." Harry smiled.

"Are you a first year?" Draco nodded. "Me, too."

"My mom's up the street looking at wands right now. But I really can't wait to look at brooms. The Nimbus Series just released a new one."

"Yeah, I heard that," Harry said, thinking back at the conversation he overheard.

"Have you got your own broom?"

"No," he sighed, but then added for good measure "But I want one."

"Play Quidditch at all?"

Harry's brain flashed to images from when he was younger of his father taking him up on a broomstick and, without thinking, he answered, "Not in years."

The boy looked at him curiously, but went on. "I love it. I want to try out for the house team next year." He kept going on. "Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"Not a clue."

"Well, no one really knows until they get their, do they. My mother was a Ravenclaw and she really wants me to go there. But my-my...father was a Slytherin, so I don't know..." he trailed off looking uncomfortable. Harry was about to accept the topic change and ask him what position he played in Quidditch, even though he didn't know what they were himself, when Draco exclaimed,

"I say, look at that man!" He nodded towards the front window. Hagrid was standing there, pointing at two large ice cream cones to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts."

"Really, did he come with you?"

"Mmm-hmm."

"Why? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," Harry said shortly.

"I'm sorry." Draco looked genuinely apologetic.

"It's alright. It happened a long time ago. I'm over it."

Draco opened his mouth to respond, but the assistant witch cut him off. "Your done, dear." Draco hoped off the stool.

"I'll see you at Hogwarts," he grinned. Harry nodded good-bye. After a few minutes, his measuring was done as well and he left the store to see Hagrid. As they ate their ice creams, Harry asked a question that had been bothering him since he left the robe shop.

"Hagrid? What's wrong with Slytherin?"

"Hmmmm," Hagrid muttered.

"I was talking to this boy in Madam Malkin's and he mentioned Slytherin. He made it sound like a terrible thing."

"Well, there's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."

"I'm sure the entire house couldn't be bad. You shouldn't judge people just because of Voldemort." Hagrid and the people around him cringed in fear. Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head. He remembered what Dumbledore had said when they were concocting a past for Evan Andrews.

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"How powerful was Voldemort exactly," Harry questioned. Dumbledore put down his quill and turned to look at the boy.

"Think off it this way, Harry. Even today, when he has been gone for years, people refuse to speak his name."

"What?"

"They insist on calling him 'You-Know-Who' they are still so afraid."

"So I probably shouldn't call him Voldemort, either, huh?"

"No, no. Remember, fear of the name increases fear of the thing itself. are you afraid of Voldemort?"

Harry crinkled his nose in thought. "Not really. I dislike him strongly, but I don't 'fear' him."

"Then you have no reason not to call him Voldemort."

*********************************************************************

"Can we go get my books now?" Harry asked, changing the subject. Hagrid agreed and they went into the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts. In addition to his school books, Harry bought many others on Wizarding customs and history, a couple prank books, one for people who were switching from the muggle to the wizarding world, 'Quidditch Through the Ages', and 'Hogwarts - A History'. Plus, when he was sure Hagrid wasn't looking, he slipped in 'Curses and Counter-Curses (Bewitch your Friends and Befuddle your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and much, much more)' by Professor Vindictus Viridian and a book he found in the back off the shop, 101 Illegal Things in the Wizarding World (Instructions Included!!!) The shop keeper didn't say anything about these purchases, either. He just winked when he rang them up.

They stopped by the apothecary's, the cauldron store, parchment shop, and one with different odds and ends for his scales and phials. Afterwards, Hagrid turned to Harry.

"Just yer wand left - an' I wanna but you a late birthday present."

"You don't have to-," Harry began, but Hagrid stopped him.

"I know, but I want to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yeh an animal. An owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'." They stopped by Eelops Owl Emporium and left with a snowy white owl, asleep in her cage. Harry was thanking Hagrid profusely.

"Don' mention it," Hagrid said. "Just Ollivanders left - best place fer wands."

The last shop on the street was small and shabby. Gold letters over the door read 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC'. When they opened the door, a bell tinkled. Harry looked around the dusty shop. Thousands of boxes lined the walls, making the room seen smaller than it was.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry turned quickly. An old man was standing there, his wide, pale eyes glowing at them like moons.

"Hello," said Harry. He felt as if the man was looking right through him.

"Ah, Harry Potter, I thought I'd be seeing you soon." Harry was shocked for a moment, but recovered.

"How did you know?"

"That's of no consequence right now. I won't tell anyone. You can take off the disguise if you want." Harry hesitated, but removed the charm from his face. Mr. Ollivander stared at him.

"You have your mother's eyes. It seems like only yesterday she was here herself. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice for charm work. Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand who chooses the wizard, of course." He moved closer to Harry and brought a hand up to touch his newly uncovered scar. "And that's where...I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did that. Thirteen and a half inches. Powerful wand. If I only knew what it was going to do...." He trailed of and shook his head. "No need to dwell on that now. Mr. Potter, which is your wand arm?"

"Actually, I use both. Ambidextrous, you could say." Ollivander looked at him strangely. Harry wished he would blink. It was getting creepy. "I use my right arm more, though."

"Alright then." A tape measure magically started to take some measurements of him - knee to eyebrow, around the wrist, waist to index finger. As it did so, the wand maker flitted around the shelves, taking down boxes. "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results from another wizard's wand." The tape measure that was measuring between his nostrils suddenly crumpled to the floor. "Here we go, try this. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just give it a wave." Harry felt slightly foolish, but did so anyway. Ollivander snatched it away almost immediately. "Nope. Maple and phoenix feather. Quite whippy. Seven inches." Nothing happened. "No, no - here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Try it out." So Harry tried. And tried. And tried some more. The pile of rejected wands kept getting higher, but Mr. Ollivander seemed overjoyed. "Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we''l find you a match somewhere - I wonder - yes, why not - unusual combination - holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple." Harry took the wand. It felt warm beneath his fingers and, when he waved it, a sprinkle of multi-colored sparks flew out. Hagrid cheered, but whether it was because he was happy Harry had found his wand, or because they could finally leave, Harry wasn't sure. Mr. Ollivander took the wand and got it all wrapped up for Harry, muttering, "Curious, very curious..." under his breath, over and over. Finally, Harry had to ask.

"I'm sorry, but what's curious.

Ollivander stared at Harry. "I remember every wand I've ever sold - every single one. The phoenix's whose feather is in your wand gave just one other feather. And it's remarkable that you should be destined for that wand when it's brother gave you that scar. Curious how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard remember. I think we should expect great things from you Harry Potter. After all, He Who Must Not Be Named did great things - terrible, yes - but great." Harry shivered. He paid for his wand, re-did his disguise, and quickly left the shop.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hagrid and Harry quickly made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. They waved good-bye to Tom and walked to the door. But, they ran into someone on the way. Literally. Harry bounced off the person he hit and his bags went flying.

"I'm sorry," he said, helping the man to his feet.

"No-no it's m-my fault," the man stuttered. "Wasn-n't wat-atching wher-ere I was go-going."

"Professor!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Andy, this man will be your DADA teacher, Professor Quirrell. Professor, this is Evan Andrews."

"It's nice to meet you, Professor," he said, shaking the man's hand. The professor seemed overly nervous about something.

"Like-likewise, Mr. And-drews. I'm sorr-rry to-to have to ru-rush b-b-but I have to get going. Errands to r-run." He nodded a goodbye and took off towards the back door.

"Is he always like that?" Harry asked.

"Yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine studyin' out of books but then he took a year off ter get some first-hand experience...They say he met vampires in the Black Forest - never been the same since. We should probably get goin'." And they left the Leaky Cauldron to go back to Oakwoods.

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Whew!!! That was possibly the longest chapter I ever wrote. Took three hours to type it!!! A lot of the descriptions of Diagon Alley came out of the book itself, but I didn't want to mess with that. It's perfect the way it is. And the Ollivander scene was about the same - hard to change that.

And there are tons of plot critters running around this chapter (I refuse to call them bunnies - bunnies creep me out). Draco changed. 5 points for who can tell me why! And name the girl he asked for directions while your at it. I'll give you a hint - she'll be important later on. Bye for now!