Chapter 5b
Harry and Ron spent most of the day in Madam Malkin's empty robe shop. Ron was overcome with severe boredom, and kept trying to pull Harry out the door and into the growing crowds. Harry resisted, claiming that there was nothing to do in the alley anyway so why bother leaving?
"Harry, there is NOTHING to be scared of!" Ron said, exasperatedly. "There are loads of Ministry of Magic officials all over the place. No one will do anything to you."
"I'm not scared," Harry said, crossing his arms and turning away from Ron. "I'm just being careful. You're not the one who's worth billions of galleons dead."
"Fine," Ron said, heading for the door. "I'll just go back to the hotel and get something to eat—and I'm not bringing anything back for you."
Harry's stomach rumbled loudly. It had been hours since their breakfast together. Ron pushed open the door, letting in a bright ray of afternoon sunshine.
"Wait!" Harry said. Ron, with the smallest of smirks on his face, turned around. Harry pocketed the quill and inkbottle from earlier, and followed Ron out the door. Ron grinned triumphantly with his hands on his hips, waiting for Harry to follow him out into the middle of the street.
Harry shielded his eyes from the sunlight as he stepped into Diagon Alley. He felt very exposed in the center of the road. Ron nonchalantly strode toward the Leaky Cauldron, either ignoring or not noticing the abnormal silence that answered Harry's sudden presence. Harry kept a step and a half behind his friend, his eyes cast down to his feet… but he could still feel the stares pressing in on him.
Ever since he had entered the wizarding world, Harry was very famous, and over the years he'd gotten used to stares and excited whispers. But the whispers that followed him that day were tenser. Harry also realized that Ron was right, and none of them seemed to be plotting his murder; actually, they all looked like they were keeping an eye out for anyone who might be dangerous. One particularly large wizard began to walk next to Harry and Ron, and asked them if they were okay.
"Yeah, we're fine," Harry said, eying the man's bulging biceps.
"If you want me to," the man continued, "I can stick around and make sure nothing bad happens." Ron slowed his pace, to listen to the conversation. The man continued, "I used to be a body-guard for the Twisted Sisters, I know what I'm doing." The man's kind eyes reminded Harry of Hagrid; a scary body but a warm heart.
"No thanks," Ron said, and pulled Harry away from the man, and they kept walking. "What a loony," Ron whispered under his breath. Harry looked back at the muscular man, half wishing Ron hadn't spoken so soon, especially when he saw a pair of particularly cold eyes staring straight at him out of the crowd…
Harry and Ron spent most of the day in Madam Malkin's empty robe shop. Ron was overcome with severe boredom, and kept trying to pull Harry out the door and into the growing crowds. Harry resisted, claiming that there was nothing to do in the alley anyway so why bother leaving?
"Harry, there is NOTHING to be scared of!" Ron said, exasperatedly. "There are loads of Ministry of Magic officials all over the place. No one will do anything to you."
"I'm not scared," Harry said, crossing his arms and turning away from Ron. "I'm just being careful. You're not the one who's worth billions of galleons dead."
"Fine," Ron said, heading for the door. "I'll just go back to the hotel and get something to eat—and I'm not bringing anything back for you."
Harry's stomach rumbled loudly. It had been hours since their breakfast together. Ron pushed open the door, letting in a bright ray of afternoon sunshine.
"Wait!" Harry said. Ron, with the smallest of smirks on his face, turned around. Harry pocketed the quill and inkbottle from earlier, and followed Ron out the door. Ron grinned triumphantly with his hands on his hips, waiting for Harry to follow him out into the middle of the street.
Harry shielded his eyes from the sunlight as he stepped into Diagon Alley. He felt very exposed in the center of the road. Ron nonchalantly strode toward the Leaky Cauldron, either ignoring or not noticing the abnormal silence that answered Harry's sudden presence. Harry kept a step and a half behind his friend, his eyes cast down to his feet… but he could still feel the stares pressing in on him.
Ever since he had entered the wizarding world, Harry was very famous, and over the years he'd gotten used to stares and excited whispers. But the whispers that followed him that day were tenser. Harry also realized that Ron was right, and none of them seemed to be plotting his murder; actually, they all looked like they were keeping an eye out for anyone who might be dangerous. One particularly large wizard began to walk next to Harry and Ron, and asked them if they were okay.
"Yeah, we're fine," Harry said, eying the man's bulging biceps.
"If you want me to," the man continued, "I can stick around and make sure nothing bad happens." Ron slowed his pace, to listen to the conversation. The man continued, "I used to be a body-guard for the Twisted Sisters, I know what I'm doing." The man's kind eyes reminded Harry of Hagrid; a scary body but a warm heart.
"No thanks," Ron said, and pulled Harry away from the man, and they kept walking. "What a loony," Ron whispered under his breath. Harry looked back at the muscular man, half wishing Ron hadn't spoken so soon, especially when he saw a pair of particularly cold eyes staring straight at him out of the crowd…