Disclaimer – I borrowed some ideas for this chapter from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" which is JKR's. Bits you don't recognise are mine. Simple!

In the name of Helga

Hazel Whinlatter

Diagon Alley

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.

Sally-Anne Perks read the inscription engraved on the silver doors with awe. She and her mother had been waiting in the outer foyer of Gringotts Wizard Bank for ten minutes, waiting for the guide they had been promised in a second Hogwarts letter. As a Muggle born who had never even been to London before, never mind a magical haven like Diagon Alley, she needed it.

They'd found their way to the Leaky Cauldron easily enough – as a witch, Sally had been able to read the hanging sign and lead her astounded mother through the strange crowd of people sitting inside. An old man was standing behind the bar who seemed to notice the trepidation that surrounded them like a cloud. "My name's Tom" he said, with a kindly grin that showed he didn't have many teeth. "Hogwarts, yes? Muggle born?" Sally nodded. "Well, follow me and I'll show you how to get into the Alley. After the first time you'll be able to do it yourself." Sally grabbed her mother's hand tightly and followed where Tom led – a difficult task, as Mrs Perks was unable to take her eyes from anything in the dark, dingy pub.

The three of them walked out into a tiny walled courtyard paved with concrete. The young witch watched carefully as Tom counted some bricks above a dustbin and tapped them with an over-long finger. Ever so slowly, the wall melted away to reveal a bustling little cobbled street, packed with people and surveyed by owls who glided over the rooftops. It was difficult to take everything in.

"Welcome" Tom said, "to Diagon Alley".

Doing his best to avoid a collision, particularly with the excited Wizard children who ran up and down the Alley, Julian Fortescue ran out of the Ice-cream Parlour's side door and headed for Gringotts. They day before, he'd received another owl from Hogwarts, requesting that he showed a Muggle born student around Diagon Alley to buy her school things. Still running, he looked down at his watch. The only hand on it pointed to "You're Late". With his breath getting short and burning in his chest from the effort, he rounded a tight corner and came to a halt in front of the bank. The building never failed to impress him – its tall, snowy white walls were smooth and majestic, and its heavy bronze doors were strong and intimidating. It helped that Gringotts was so tall that it towered above everything else in the Alley, although this was misleading; Julian knew that most of the upper floors housed offices and historical records, and that the main business of the goblins inside was conducted many miles below his feet. Jogging up the broad marble steps, he nodded politely to the red and gold clad goblin at the door and entered the foyer, where Sally-Anne and Mrs Perks stood in front of him.

"So sorry I'm late" he gasped as he tried to catch his breath. He extended his hand to Mrs Perks and Sally in turn, giving each a warm handshake. "I'm Julian – I live above the ice-cream parlour down the road. Dad asked me to help set up before I came, got held up."

"Quite alright" smiled Mrs Perks. "It's not as though we were going anywhere, right Sal?"

For the first time, Julian looked at his companion and appreciatively took in her sparkling green eyes, and the thick blonde hair that hung to her shoulders in waves. Seeing her nerves, he smiled. "Sally, is it?"

"Sally-Anne, actually. Most people call me Sally or Sal though, makes things easier", she mumbled, attempting to return Julian's cheerful smile. "Hadn't we better get going?" she enquired, looking at the solid silver doors standing in their way. "There's no spells on them, are there?"

He shook his head. "Don't need them, the goblins are enough security. I'll take you to the exchange goblin, shall I?"

Julian pushed open the huge doors that creaked and groaned as they turned on their ancient hinges. Walking behind him, Sally and Mrs Perks looked around with even more astonishment than they had done in the Leaky Cauldron. Gringotts interior was even more grand than its exterior – their feet paced over cool marble tiles that shone with flecks of jade green, and they were surrounded by tall gilded desks and booths (each one attended by a fierce looking goblin). Julian led them over to one that bore a sign saying "Muggle to Wizard Currency exchange".

Even the Magical vocabulary seemed alien to Sally. "How does Wizard money work, Julian?" she asked her new friend as they joined the queue behind a girl with bushy brown hair, who seemed to be trying to listen to his explanation. She must have been Muggle born too.

"Pretty much the same as Muggle money, except we don't use paper" he said, watching as Mrs Perks started taking coins and notes from her purse. "That'll be easily enough" he interrupted, "Wizard shops are quite cheap for clothes and stuff. Where was I?" he continued. "Oh yeah, the coins. There's three types – bronze Knuts, silver Sickles and gold Galleons. Twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, and seventeen Sickles to a Galleon. Easy enough to remember once you get used to it."

"How much is that in nor- er, I mean Muggle money?"

"I'd say a Sickle's about fifteen pence, so a galleon's about four pounds." was Julian's answer. He was quickly stopped, however, when the bushy-haired brunette had finished collecting her change, and the goblin at the desk started to count out more cash.

"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)

Oh, and I need name tags as well, dad."

"We can charm those on when we've bought the rest of your uniform, Hannah."

Hannah and Anton Abbott were standing outside a clothes shop called "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions', where there was a piece of parchment in the window saying "Hogwarts Uniforms: In stock now!" Hannah's mother, Sarah, had gone to buy things like her cauldron and books, leaving her husband and daughter to get her uniform and wand. Hannah was looking at some beautiful dress robes in the window – her particular favourite was sky blue, nipped in at the waist and had a full skirt whose hem was so long that its hem touched the floor. It even had twinkling gold stars on the wrists.

"Hannah, it doesn't say dress robes on your list" Anton said, smiling down at his daughter, who was looking longingly into the window of Madam Malkin's. "If they start having Yule Balls again, you can have one. But only then!"

His daughter's reaction only made him struggle to contain his laughter. "But Dad, you have to be in fourth year to go to a Yule Ball unless you get asked to go with someone older!"

"You'll appreciate it all the more then, won't you? Go on, in! I'll be out here when you're ready to pay."

Groaning reluctantly, Hannah tore her gaze away from the window and entered the shop. A little bell rang as she walked through the door, and as she looked up, Hannah noticed that it was suspended in mid-air. "Of course", she thought. "Madam Malkin's got to be a witch."

And a witch she was – a stout little witch, dressed in robes of shining mauve. Beaming across at Hannah, she nodded approvingly. "Hogwarts, dear?" When Hannah replied that that was indeed why she was there, Madam Malkin waved her wand in the air and conjured a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. "That's the part of your uniform we don't have to measure – your hat, gloves and the like" she explained, looking over to see that Hannah understood. Satisfied that she did, she gestured over to the back of the shop. "We've got another Hogwarts pupil being measured up now, as a matter of fact." Hannah glanced over and saw who she meant – a tanned, dark haired boy with long legs was standing on a stool while one of Madam Malkin's assistants took his measurements and conjured the pieces of cloth for his robes out of thin air, before passing them to another witch who used a stitching charm to sew them together. Madam Malkin patted a stool next to the boy, and Hannah jumped onto it as her own measurements were taken.

Hannah felt as though she was being watched, and as she looked to her right, noticed that the other boy was looking at her. Deciding that she ought to make friends as soon as possible, she spoke to him and tried to mask the nervousness in her voice.

"So you're going to Hogwarts? Are you a first year too?"

"Yeah" he replied. "I'm really nervous as well, first I was worried about not getting in and now I'm worried about going!"

Hannah already felt as though she could identify with him, and her own laughter joined his as they relaxed in each other's company. "Are your family magical?"

"Yes again" he told her, rolling his eyes towards the shop ceiling. "They're the reason I was worried about coming here in the first place! I thought I'd end up being a squib or something!" Hannah continued to laugh – she could tell they were going to get along OK. Once she'd stopped laughing, the boy said "My name's David. David Nott" and shook her hand. "I'm Hannah Abbott" she told him. Then something clicked inside her head – David's surname sounded awfully familiar. "Nott? Were your parents both in Ravenclaw or something?"

"Yeah, they were actually – why do you ask?"

"I think my dad might have been to school with them. That's him, out there" she pointed, waving and pulling faces at her father. "See?"

David craned his neck to look. "I see him. So he was at Hogwarts? What house?"

"Hufflepuff. Talk about mad, when he has reunions with his old housemates they talk about their old practical jokes as if they were still there! It's sooooo embarrassing!" she complained, which made it David's turn to suppress his amusement.

"My parents always got on with the Hufflepuffs. I wonder if they had lessons together" he mused. "Do you think you'll be in there too?"

Hannah shrugged. "I honestly haven't a clue. I'm quite like my dad, though, so if I do end up there it's not like I'll hate it or anything." Before she could confess that she actually knew very little about the Hogwarts Houses, Madam Malkin tapped David on the shoulder. "All done, dear."

David hopped down from the stool and gathered up the package that she handed him. "I guess I'll see you on September First then" he said. Walking over to the door, he turned and called to Hannah – "Are you going to Hogwarts on the train?"

"Yeah!" she called back. "I can't wait!"

"Me either!" David grinned. "I'll see you at King's Cross!"

Justin Finch-Fletchley looked around Flourish and Blotts Bookshop in fascination. He had been assigned a guide too – they had met earlier at the Leaky Cauldron – and now she was moving around the store as if she'd lived there all her life. If you made this assumption, you wouldn't be far wrong – for Justin's guide was none other than Rachel Bagshot, whose grandmother was a famous author. To get him accustomed to life as a Wizard, Rachel had enlisted Justin's help in looking for their books.

"Ok Justin, now we need 'Magical Theory'. It's by Adalbert Waffling.."

"Is this it?" Justin asked, manoeuvring around a pile of huge leather-bound tomes called 'Curses and Counter Curses' before picking up the book. "It looks a bit funny though". Justin suspiciously eyed the felt cover as it gently morphed from a pale, baby blue to a soft sea green under his nose.

"They're perfectly safe" Rachel responded. She was by now halfway up a huge ladder, scanning the shelves for 'A History of Magic'. "It's just the spells in them – eventually you learn to personalise the cover so people know it's yours. That's what Grandma told me, anyway. Ha!" She called in triumph, and pulled out two copies of a very thick textbook with a picture of a goblin on the front. Being a magical textbook, the picture was moving – Justin thought he was going mad when the tiny figure pulled a sword from its belt and began to duel with an imaginary enemy. Climbing back down the ladder as carefully as she could, Rachel saw his shock and cheerfully waved the image at him. "Speaking of Grandma", she said as she put the books on the counter with a clatter, "She wrote this one. Even taught Magic History in America for a few years."

Clearly impressed, Justin asked Rachel if she wanted to follow in Grandma Bagshot's footsteps and become an author herself. Rachel, who had been pulling some galleons out of her purse to pay for her share of the books, stopped and thought. "I don't know. I mean, it'd be a great job – Grandma's travelled loads – but I don't know what subject I'd want to write about really."

"Not History of Magic, then?" queried Justin.

His guide shuddered. "Merlin, no. You'll find out when we get to Hogwarts that Magic History's incredibly dull." She patted the volume in front of her and grinned fondly. "Besides, I think a single HOM author's enough for one family!"

"Students may also bring an owl or a cat or a toad" read Rebecca, who now stood outside Eeylops Owl Emporium. "I don't know about you", she said to the boy who was standing next to her, "but there is no way I'm getting a toad. We've already got three frogs and a newt at home, Mum wouldn't be too pleased if I brought another amphibian into the house."

Her companion, who she'd met earlier in the queue for the apothecary, chuckled and shook his head. "And I'm not getting a cat – my brother's allergic to them. He's snotty enough as it is."

Rebecca paused and surveyed the shop front before her. "Looks like owls for the both of us, then." With that, she led the way into the tiny little shop, Antony following behind her.

Once inside, it took a least a few minutes for their vision to adjust to the Emporium's darkness. Lit by a single oil lamp hanging from the ceiling, row upon row of wrought-metal cages lined the walls. From inside them came the sound of hooting and rustling feathers, and the youngsters could see masses of jewel-coloured eyes that observed them with interest.

While they gaped at the beautiful creatures around them, they were approached by a shop assistant who didn't look much older than twenty one. The midnight blue orbs of his eyes bored into Antony and Rebecca's mystified faces, and he smiled. "Buying an owl for school?" he said. They both nodded.

"I don't suppose you know about the procedure we use for the selection of owls? No, you wouldn't, it's much too difficult" he muttered before giving them a chance to answer. "Basically, one of you steps forward into the middle of the room. We unlock each of the cages, say an incantation, and the owl that suits you best will fly out and land on your shoulder. Of course, it is possible to buy an owl for someone else, and for them to not be present during the process, but we find that this method works very well indeed."

His two young customers exchanged a glance, and with a nervous squeak Rebecca's voice piped up – "I'll go first!" Treading the floorboards carefully so not to frighten the owls, she stood in the middle of the shop and looked expectantly at the assistant. "What do I do now?"

"Wait - " he said. Going round and carefully opening each cage, and finally standing back, he took out his wand and waved it. There was a sudden rush of air flowing around Rebecca's body, and before she had time to react to it, a tawny owl with obsidian eyes was circling around her. It landed on her shoulder and gave her earlobe an affectionate nip. The mystery man seemed to approve of the choice. "That one's Cleopatra" he said. "Sweet little thing, very good natured. You might want to give her bits of toast as a reward when she delivers things at breakfast, though. Alright lad, you next" he indicated to Antony, who walked eagerly to the spot where Rebecca had been seconds earlier and waited patiently. This time, the rush of air whistled loudly and almost lifted him off his feet. The owl who came to him was much bigger than Cleopatra, and just to be awkward, landed on the shop floor and skidded the last couple of metres before coming to a halt at his new owner's feet. The assistant chuckled, and leaned behind the counter – behind which, it seemed, he kept a very tough looking pair of leather gloves. "You might be needing these. Augustus here isn't exactly gentle, and from what I know of him he's a cheeky little beggar too."

Antony's jaw dropped as he examined his new pet. "He's brilliant! What type of owl is he?"

"Screech. One advantage, though – they may be a bit feisty but once you know how to handle them, they're fine birds for setting on your enemies. Joke!" he corrected himself on seeing their startled faces. "They're much more useful for carrying stink bombs hidden in letters. Now, I think you'd better be going with those two" he said once he'd taken their payment and coaxed Augustus back into his cage. "They look like the need some quiet."

Just as his two newest customers headed out of the door, owl cages under their arms, the assistant called after them. "Enjoy yourselves – you'll love Hogwarts! And if you ever take Divination, give that dozy bat Trelawney a message from me. Tell her Bob Shunpike survived graduation, will you?"

"Other Equipment: One Wand" Susan announced, as she read from the sheet of paper that was still attached to her Hogwarts acceptance letter. "Where on earth are we going to find a wand shop amongst all of these other places?"

"Ollivanders. No place else if you want a decent wand." That was from Susan's Aunt Beth, who had taken a break from "Magical Mastery", where she worked, to help Susan buy her school things.

Ollivanders, as it turned out, was a narrow and dingy looking shop that was almost at the very end of the Alley. The first thing that surprised Susan was the sparseness of its appearance – unlike the other shops, whose windows were crammed full of everything from books to broomsticks, Ollivanders' display contained a single wand, that lay on a purple cushion faded by sunlight.

As the Bones' stepped inside, they could hear the tinny sound of a bell ringing towards the back of the shop. Whoever the bell was meant to signal, they were obviously engaged in something else, as another family was already waiting. Sitting on a high, spindly-legged chair was a boy of about Susan's age, who appeared to be alone. He glanced over at them and grinned weakly – it was clear that he felt as nervous as she did – and as they continued to wait, both youngsters looked at the thousands of thin boxes piled right up to the ceiling. For some reason, none of the boxes had labels.

"Good afternoon", said a gentle voice that made everyone jump with surprise. Aunt Beth, Susan and the boy in the chair turned around to face the speaker – an old man whose eyes fixed upon each of them in turn. "Of course, Beth Bones – I wondered if I'd be seeing you again. Ash, 13 inches wasn't it? And this must be your niece! Susan, I believe?" (The grin that Mr Ollivander gave Susan seemed to be more sinister than friendly). "With a family of your stature, Miss Bones, I wouldn't be too surprised if I'm hearing of your great deeds in the future!"

Susan subtly tried to edge away from him.

"And a McMillan!" Ollivander said, whirling around in astonishment to face the boy. "Goodness me, this is an honour. What's your name, young man?

"Ernie" he gulped.

"Well, Ernie and Susan, we'd better get you measured up. Both of you hold up your wand arms, please."

Susan raised her right arm, Ernie his left. Mr Ollivander carefully began to measure their arms, wrists and hands, and explained what he was doing in between writing results down on a small note-pad. "Is that how you remember everyone's wand?" Ernie joked, trying to lighten the mood. He regretted it when he felt the burning sensation of the shopkeeper's moon-like eyes on his skin.

"No, Mr McMillan", was Ollivander's reply. "Each Ollivander wand is unique, and that is why I find it so easy to remember them all. Naturally" he mused, "a good memory does help, but there you go." The old man suddenly dropped his tape measure with a clatter. "And I have just the wand for you. One moment, please."

He moved so fast that the three other people in the shop only saw the fading retreat of his back as he entered the back of the shop, almost hopping from one leg to the other with excitement. His return was even quicker, and his customers had to stifle a giggle when he nearly tripped over the unravelling carpet.

"Just finished it yesterday," he said in a thrilled voice. "Very similar to the wands favoured by other McMillans, actually. Beech, 13 ½ inches, Dragon heartstring. Give it a wave. Go on!" he encouraged, waving his long hands in Ernie's face.

Unsure of what he was supposed to look for, Ernie raised the wand and moved it around above his head. Truth be told, he felt rather silly. It was only when he felt a strange, tingly feeling run from his shoulder through to his fingertips that he looked up – and saw the most amazing display of yellow sparks that were just like miniature pieces of glitter, flowing out of the end of the wand and casting speckles of light on the wall, which caused the Bones' and the wand maker to burst into applause.

"Excellent! Well done!" exclaimed Ollivander. "We've found your wand on the very first try, that's very rare indeed! Oh, absolutely marvellous!"

When the cheering had subsided, Mr Ollivander picked up his note-pad from the counter and studied it carefully. "Hmm. I think I may just have the perfect wand for you as well, Miss Bones." He glanced around the high walls until he saw what he was looking for – a navy blue box with a fat red triangle on it – and pointed his own wand in its direction. "Accio!" he muttered; and the box shot out of its spot on the pile with a bang, only just missing Aunt Beth's nose. "Now my dear, try this one". He looked very hopeful indeed.

Taking a deep breath, Susan copied what she'd seen Ernie do before. Only this time, she brought the wand down in a sweeping motion, which resulted in a single beam of yellow light that shone so bright it led everyone to gasp in amazement. For once, it seemed, Mr Ollivander was genuinely surprised. "Well, well, that is a shock" he gasped. "Just like a stronger version of the Lumos spell – but it's only the most powerful of wizards who can perform it. Truly amazing! And it was pure yellow, Exactly like his sparks – " his voice trailed off quietly, till he began to whisper.

"Never in my long career have I seen cases like this! Such a fast result, and such clear yellow! You do know what this means, don't you?"

Neither student said anything.

"I shall be owling Hogwarts ready for the start of term. This is something I'm sure they'd like to know about – one Professor in particular, I expect."

By now, Susan and Ernie were even more confused.

"Let's simply say this – when you're sorted, don't be too surprised if the Hat doesn't take very long in its decision – "

THE END

A/N: Oooh, I wonder what Mr Ollivander meant? Wait, hang on, I'm the author, I know! Muhahahaha. OK, here's an idea for a little contest I had! Anyone who figures out the significance between the names of Antony and his and Rebecca's owls, e-mail me your answer at . The winner (ie the first correct answer) gets to be featured in a chapter. You know, I might do more of these contests in the future ;)

Thanks a bunch to my first reviewer drum roll - KAT HALLOWELL! Thankyou for your comments, sweetie, you're way too nice and such an encouraging person! I'm always glad of your reviews!

Kisses, hugs, and glasses of water because I'm trying to cut down on caffeine –

shewhodares