a/n: thank you people so much for the reviews. FaeryEars-I love long reviews, so don't be sorry! And he won't forget his group, they're his family! Wolfzmasterz- I'm not sure who he'll be going with, rest assured that things won't be the same!
Please keep reviewing you guys, I love your input, just say if you like it/don't like it and what you would change! Or you can just review saying you read it!
Chapter Two:
While Remus Lupin got drunk and mourned for all that he lost, Harry went searching for answers. The best place to look for answers was back in the alley.
Harry quickly retraced his steps in London and found the Leaky Cauldron. He wore a bandana over his scar so that no one would recognize him and quickly made his way out the back door. He waited by the wall until a big family of redheads came through. The group was chattering loudly and didn't seem to notice Harry waiting off to the side.
Once inside Diagon Alley, Harry was yet again enraptured by the strange scenes and quirky merchandise. He did not idle too long in the open, bright area and quickly made his way towards the shop in Knockturn Alley where he would find answers.
Harry stepped inside the dingy shop that the man told him to come to if he ever had questions. The shop was dimly lit and a bell tinkled as he walked inside. The shop didn't have many items sitting about. There was a shelf with a few books and a case with some old looking jewelry. But Harry assumed that there was more than just that for sale here.
Harry walked up to the counter and rang the little bell. The grey haired man walked up to the counter.
"I figured you'd be back, lad," he said as a greeting.
"Who are you?" Harry asked bluntly.
"Ah, I suppose I did forget an introduction last time," the man spoke slowly, picking at his words. "The name's Alphard Black." He held out a hand for Harry to shake.
Harry cautiously gripped the hand and shook.
"Well, my boy, what brings you here?"
"There was a man…" Harry began to explain what happened the other day.
"Curious," Alphard stated once Harry had finished. "Shabby looking robes? Grey streaks? Could be anyone, what precisely did he say to you?"
"He—he sounded relieved when he found out that I was alive, he asked to make sure and he seemed a bit distraught afterwards, he didn't put up a chase at all," Harry answered.
"Hmm, aye, perhaps he was Remus Lupin," Alphard pondered aloud. "He was an old mate of your dad's."
Harry looked interested, "What can you tell me about my parents?"
"Well, lad, I don't know much, only what my nephew told me," he began. "James Potter, your dad, was best friends with Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew, and… Sirius Black. They were close all through Hogwarts. Your father fancied Lily Evans for along time, but she, well, to put it frankly, she hated him. Eventually, around sixth or seventh year, she came to her senses, as I was told, and went on a date with him. From there, you can assume what happened, marriage, having you… Voldemort."
"What happened to the others? I mean, I've seen that one, Lupin, but where are the others?" Harry questioned.
"Well, the thing is, your folks knew Voldemort was after them, so they did the fidelius charm, which basically hides their location and is only known by a secret keeper. Their secret keeper was Sirius… well, he sold them out." Alphard looked lost in the story with a remorseful look on his face. "After Voldemort killed your parents and attempted to kill you, Sirius went after Pettigrew, no one really knows why, they just suppose he wanted to get the rest of his friends. So he killed Pettigrew, along with muggles that were nearby and he was caught. Taken off to Azkaban, never to see the light of day again… and here I thought there was one more Black that had some worth," he said the last bit quietly.
"They should have killed him," Harry muttered angrily. "What's Azkaban?"
"Wizarding prison, lad, a horrible place," Alphard answered. "It's guarded by the worst sort of beasts—dementors. They suck all the happiness and warmth out of a place. I suppose if you were around them long enough you'd go mad, driven insane by your sadness."
"He deserves it, then," Harry stated firmly.
"Does he?" Alphard asked. "Does anyone deserve to be near those things?"
"He does," Harry answered again, this time a little weaker.
"I suppose I can see why you would think that," Alphard replied.
Harry began poking around the store, "What's this?" He pointed to what looked like a fancy walking stick.
"A staff, lad," Alphard responded. "The stone is its focal. It's like an antique wand, so to speak, but much more powerful than your average wand. Most people don't like carrying them around now, why bother, when you can just have something a tenth the size? But there's bound to be someone out there who wants to buy it, a collector maybe."
Harry nodded and went back to looking around.
"Speaking of wands, boy, you ought to get one. For protection, you understand."
"How do I get one?" Harry asked, seeming excited about the idea.
"Well, normally I would recommend you purchase one at Ollivanders, but I don't suppose that would be possible… he'd question your age, name, and well, it wouldn't work out." Alphard discussed. "Hmm, perhaps… aye, it'll have to do."
"What?" Harry asked impatiently.
"I've a friend, he has a shop down here, he deals with illegal items, so I'm sure he could fetch you a wand," Alphard explained.
"What are we waiting for?"
"Alright then, lad, let's go look for him," Alphard replied.
The two walked down Knockturn Alley together, an odd group to the normal eye, but since this was Knockturn Alley no one took a notice. They both walked in silence. Alphard appeared to be thinking about something, and Harry was yet again, taking in his surroundings.
Alphard got a thoughtful look on his face, and turned right into a dark pub. Harry followed, confused as to why they were stopping at a pub. Inside, Alphard walked up to the bar, asked a few questions, and then walked towards a back room.
Harry walked closely behind him, not liking the look of some of the people in this pub. Most of them were hidden under heavy dark cloaks and those that weren't had extremely ominous looks about them.
Once inside the small back room Harry and Alphard sat down around a small table.
"Where's the guy we're looking for?" Harry suddenly asked, breaking the silence.
"He should be here any minute," Alphard replied not explaining much.
The two of them sat in silence for a few more minutes and then the door creaked open and in walked a short dirty looking man.
"Dung," Alphard greeted.
"Black! How nice to see you," The person, Dung, responded.
"Harry, lad, this is Mundungus Fletcher," Alphard answered Harry's unasked question.
"Dung, the boy needs a wand," Alphard told the strange man.
"Aye, and why doesn't he just go to Ollivanders?" The man questioned.
"Because this boy is Harry Potter," Alphard explained. "And we couldn't have Harry Potter just walking into Ollivanders demanding a wand, now could we?"
"No, no, I suppose not," Dung chuckled. "Well, wands are a tricky thing; if he doesn't get the right wand his spells might not work right… wands have to be compatible with the wizard."
"And what do you propose we do?" Alphard asked. Harry silently observed the conversation between the two, noticing Alphard's influence on this man.
"Well, I know a chap around here who could make him one, it would cost a pretty penny, mind you, but I suppose you could afford it, eh, Black?" Dung laughed to himself. "His name's Moyora, he's an ex-hit wizard, he makes wands, but not exactly the type of wands that Ollivander sells over there; he tends to experiment with 'em."
Alphard, looking irritable with the conversation, finally replied, "Just tell me where to find him, Fletcher, and I'll call us even."
Dung gave a twisted smile, "Go into Borgin and Burkes, talk to the owner about wands and have him take you around back. Outside his back door and down the alley you'll find a nice little building where Moyora stays and messes with his wands."
Alphard nodded and stood up, leading Harry back out of the pub. Harry remained quiet for a few minutes and then finally asked the question that was bugging him.
"Why does that man owe you?"
"I got him out of a fix with some Death Eaters a few years back," Alphard answered. "He's an idiot, but he has connections."
"We should wait until tomorrow to get your wand, boy," Alphard finally spoke. "It's getting dark, and I suppose you have a place to get back to."
Harry acquiesced and made his way out of the magical alleys, agreeing to show up again tomorrow morning. The sun had set once he got out into muggle London and there weren't many people wandering the streets. Because the streets were mainly emptied, Harry quickly noticed that he was being followed. Not just by the two people who were following him last time, but there were three more. Harry fingered his knives from their hidden spots in his clothing and quickened his pace, although he knew they would keep up. He didn't want to be the one to start the fight, if that's what they were there for.
Two more gangly teens came out of an alley in front of him and he was forced to stop about five meters away from him. Not long after, the other five came up behind him.
"Well, lookie what we 'ave 'ere," A girl crowed from behind him.
"If it isn't a street urchin," the boy who Harry assumed was their leader, mocked. "What're you doin' in our territory, scum?"
Harry remained silent.
"Can't talk?" This was reminding Harry of the time when he was first surrounded by Jon's gang, but instead of responding, Harry stayed quiet.
"'E's wastin' our time, let's just teach 'im a lesson and get goin'," Another boy finally spoke up.
Harry considered his odds; there were seven of them and one of him. It didn't look good. Harry was a good fighter, but he was still one person, they could easily overpower him. But Harry was no coward; he gripped his knives and fell into stance waiting for one of them to make the first move.
It was the boy who spoke last who decided to lunge forward first. Harry ducked under his fists and took the handle of his knife and hit the boy's temple, not wanting to kill him. One down, six to go. The other six circled him, trying to wait him out. None of the group had any weapons, but fists could be just as deadly as Harry's knives. Harry looked around, but saw no way of escaping.
The group ran at Harry and started trying to take him down. Harry quickly took down a heavyset boy who moved slowly and tried to duck and avoid the others' attacks. The two gangly ones attacked him from behind and got a hold of his arms, disarming him.
"Didn't your parents ever tell you not to play with knives?" The leader taunted. "Or maybe they told you not to pick fights with people bigger than you."
The two who held him tightened their grips to a painful point.
The leader took one of Harry's knives.
"I don't like kids who don't play nice," he gibed at Harry. "So… how will I punish you?"
The leader pretended to think for a moment and then quickly lunged at Harry with the knife. Harry felt a sharp pain in his stomach, but quickly started to feel detached. He noticed that he was no longer being held, rather, he was lying on the ground. Feeling around him, he felt something wet, he looked to where he was feeling and saw that it was red—blood.
Harry lay there until he passed out. Once he was unconscious a flash of light surrounded him and he disappeared only to reappear in the factory. His friends who were all back at home by that time were shocked, but quickly saw Harry's condition and decided that the only place to take him was a hospital—and quick.
