A loud crack sounded in small alley just down the street from the dingy, yet lively pub in London. Hope looked warily round, never having apparated to Diagon Alley before. The alley looked sinister and unwelcoming, she quickly seeked out the exit, not wanting to remain in the alley longer than she needed to. She caught a glimpse of light coming from the furthest end of the alley way. She almost ran towards it; the alley gave her a nasty feeling.

She emerged onto the busy London street and suddenly felt overwhelmed by the amount of people who surrounded her. She shook her head in an attempt to rid herself of the overwhelmed feeling. Honestly Hope, catch a grip on yourself, her inner voice said in a harsh tone. She sighed and looked up and down the street, trying to locate the dingy shop front and the rusty sign bearing the ever famous picture of a particularly leaky cauldron. She spotted it, about 20 metres up the street from where she was standing.

Without really knowing why, she took a deep breath before stepping out into the crowds on the busy street. People jostled her from every which way, and she struggled to keep herself on course. When at last she arrived outside the black shop front, she nervously looked around to see if anyone was watching her. It was only after looking round her she realised that this was a silly thing to think; why would anyone be paying any attention to what a 17 year old was doing in London, when they all had their busy lives to attend to?

The recently familiar pang of loss hit her, and she hung her head as she sighed. Then, this time knowing why she had done so, Hope took a deep breath before entering the pub. She smiled as she entered it, suddenly feeling much more welcome than she had in the past 24 hours. Looking around herself she noted to herself how little this place had changed since she had been here last. There was music playing softly in the background, and groups of people huddled together in private conversations all over the place, while others chose to sit alone with their drink, reading a paper or a book. Her smile dropped however, when she noticed one significant difference, it was the general feeling within the place that had changed. The feeling of welcome was still very much there, Hope could not deny this, but she noticed that instead of the usual cheery conversations going around her, she noticed that the voices of the conversations were hushed, the tones low. Voldemort's effect had spread to even those places where he had not set foot, his quest for power had ruined the atmosphere of one of the only places in the world, where witches and wizards could gather together as friends and forget about their troubles. Now, they could not even do that here.

Hope, who had been considering stopping in the pub for a butterbeer before venturing into Diagon Alley, instead decided against it and walked quickly through the pub and out onto the courtyard. Looking at the solid stone wall ahead of her, she desperately hoped that she could remember the combination of bricks. She did not really feel like having to ask Tom the Bartender to let her in to Diagon Alley, which would be just a little too embarrassing for her taste.

She stepped up to the wall and drew her wand from her jacket pocket. Without hesitation, for she knew that hesitation would only bring doubt, she began to tap the bricks on the wall, hoping that it was the correct combination after all. She shut her eyes and hoped for the best. When nothing happened for a few moments, she let out a breath she was not aware she had been holding and opened her eyes. She raised her wand again, preparing to start rapping the bricks once again, when the bricks began to separate before her eyes. She smiled to herself; perhaps she wasn't as forgetful as she thought she was.

As the bricks separated into the familiar archway, Hope gasped loudly. This was not the Diagon Alley she remembered. The one she remembered was bustling and cheery, full of people and children and strange noises and interesting shops full of everything you could ever wish to need. This Diagon Alley was far from that. A strange dull grey colour seemed to have settled itself upon it, and the windows of far too many shops had boarded up. The boards which covered the windows of the many shops she loved were plastered with bright purple posters, informing the readers of what to do if Voldemort attacked them.

Hope felt angry about this; the posters told you what to do alright, but they didn't tell you how you would feel, and how you would react. They made it seem as if you would be perfectly calm and collected if Voldemort just so happened to appear on your doorstep one night with his wand raised.

As she glanced about the small street, Hope noticed something important was missing from the scene. Something that had been so crucial in making Diagon Alley unique and a place where everyone wanted to be. There were no longer crowds of people bustling and chatting happily, there were no longer children running in between and around your legs. The atmosphere of Diagon Alley, just as in The Leaky Cauldron had disappeared.

Hope sighed heavily and wrapped her jacket closer round herself before setting off down the deserted street. She looked from side to side as she walked down the street, looking to see which of the shops had been closed. She looked for the well lit sign of her favourite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies and was saddened to see that it was not there anymore. She rushed over to the front of the shop, checking to see if it had at least remained open. Her face fell as her gaze fell upon the boarded up windows and the dilapidated sign above the door.

So much for new armguards then, she thought sadly.

Hope sighed again and set off towards Flourish and Blotts. Glad to see that it was still open, Hope quickly stepped inside and pulled out her book list. After locating a rather annoyed looking clerk, she asked him to help her look for the books she needed. The clerk looked at her curiously, obviously wondering why she was looking for books that she should have gotten years previously. He beckoned her to follow him through a small archway of teetering towers of books towards a large bookshelf.

"Now", said the clerk while he reached for a ladder to his left, "All of your books should be located in this bookshelf here. If you require any more assistance, please, do not hesitate to ask. I would stay and help, but I am very busy this morning."

Hope looked at the man for a moment or two. He was short, yet quite thin. His mousy hair hung over his eyes in a dishevelled fashion, and his cheeks bore the signs of flustered ness. She smiled at the man and thanked him. He handed her back her booklist and set off again between the arch of books.

Deciding that the task ahead of her was going to take a while, Hope took off her jacket and bag and set them down on the floor.

"Standard Book of Spells: Grade 7", she read, and then raised her head to look at the towering bookshelf. She looked along the shelves of books, and then spotted a whole shelf of books bearing the crest of the Department of Standard Spells. Stowing the booklist safely in her pocket, Hope started to climb the long ladder to the shelf. She reached the level of the shelf bearing the book she needed, and carefully scanned the shelf for a book that said "Grade 7". She spotted it at the very furthest end of the shelf from her, and made to get her wand from her pocket to summons it.

"Oh blast it all" she muttered, "I just had to leave it in my jacket didn't I."

She looked down to the ground, and tried to look through the arches of books, hoping that someone would come along so she could ask them to levitate her wand to her. She had just about given hope and was about to climb back down the ladder when she saw someone walk casually through the same arch of books she had walked through.

Her heart skipped a beat.

Harry ate his breakfast in silence, all the time aware that Ron was giving him suspicious looks. His grin did not falter however; it stood fast on his lips throughout the whole of breakfast.

After breakfast, the three of the made their way back up to Harry and Ron's room to decide on what to do with their last day of freedom.

"Well, where is there to go really?" asked Ron

"Lots of places! And we don't even have to stick to wizarding London!" Hermione replied excitedly, "We could go shopping on Oxford Street, or go to the Tower of London, or go on the London Eye!"

Ron looked very much as if he would like to throw something at Hermione.

"I think maybe not. You and Harry might be good at the whole Muggle thing, but I'm not" he said. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh, honestly, Ronald," she said in an exasperated tone she reserved especially for Ron, "The only reason you're not good at it is because you hardly ever interact with them. It's your own fault."

Harry, however, was not listening to their argument. He was too busy thinking about the girl he had seen on the landing earlier that morning.

She was cute, he thought to himself. And she was wearing a Ramones t-shirt. Harry smiled as he remembered how the t-shirt had looked on her. It showed off her curves, without being too tight. He had loved the way it had looked on her, and yet he did not know who she was. He did not know her name. She haunted his thoughts, nameless. He was frustrated with himself that all he had done was to help her up and walk away, as if he would see her again. But what if he didn't? What if their paths never crossed again?

He sighed deeply. Who was this girl? Even though he had never heard her speak, he had the strangest feeling that he could hear her calling his name. Harry could not deny it; he rather enjoyed the thought that she would call his name.

His thought were interrupted however, by a rather moth eaten pillow hitting him in the face. He looked at his two friends sitting in front if him, accusation written all over his face.

He found the culprit in Ron; he was beaming widely and looking triumphant.

"What the bleeding hell was that for?" he asked angrily.

"Well, firstly it was payback for last night. Now you know how it feels for a disgustingly musty pillow to hit you square in the face!" said Ron in an accusatory tone, "And secondly, we've been trying to get your attention for at least two minutes." Ron shrugged his shoulders at Harry, as if that would make his innocence clear. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well, what do you want?" asked Harry

"Well, firstly, we would like to know if you had any suggestions as to what we could do today, and secondly, why you have had a large grin planted on your face since breakfast", it was Hermione who answered his question, and he didn't like the tone of her voice when she spoke. There was an air of knowing surrounding it, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking. Harry looked up at her held her gaze, asking her the question silently. The look she returned to him was all he needed. She knew what he was thinking about. Harry looked away from her, blushing, and he heard her giggle slightly.

"Why don't we just go to Diagon Alley? You're probably dying to go to Flourish and Blotts again," said Harry, trying to make his voice sound as if he wasn't blushing furiously.

"Are you sure Harry? I mean, Diagon Alley isn't as brilliant as it used to be." said Hermione. Harry thought about this for a moment, she was right of course. Diagon Alley certainly wasn't the place it used to be, but there were still a few decent shops open there. And a visit to Weasley Wizard Wheezes was never out of order.

"Yeah, we can go and see Fred and George," replied Harry, catching Ron's eye. He knew perfectly well that he could do with stocking up on some joke material, and the WWW was the only place to get it. He turned to face Hermione again; her face was positively red with anger.

"Harry! You are Head Boy now! You cannot run around playing jokes on people, especially not this year!" she snapped. Hermione glanced from Harry to Ron in turn, making them feel very nervous under her glare.

"Honestly Hermione, sometimes I wonder why your name isn't Percy," said Ron. Hermione made a noise rather like Professor McGonagall made when Harry and Ron weren't paying attention.

"Come on, you two," she said angrily, "if we don't get a move on, we won't have nearly enough time in Flourish and Blotts."

Harry and Ron grumbled when she said this – Hermione had been known to spend countless hours in Flourish and Blotts carefully selecting as many books as she could carry. Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem, as Ron and Harry could spend the time in Quality Quidditch Supplies, but it had since closed down, and they were therefore forced to spend the time with Hermione in Flourish and Blotts, thoroughly bored.

10 minutes later, the three of them stumbled out of the fire place of The Leaky Cauldron. Harry took pride in the fact that he was now able to stay upright when he emerged from a fireplace after travelling by floo powder. Ron, who had been travelling by floo powder for years, casually strolled out of the fireplace looking smug. Harry rolled his eyes at him but said nothing. It wasn't often that Ron was able to do something well, so when he did find something he could do better than Harry and Hermione, he made sure that they knew it. Hermione fell clumsily out of the fireplace just after Ron, and landed with a bump on her bottom. She looked up at them shyly and Harry couldn't help but laugh as he stuck out his hand to help her up off the ashy hearth rug. She smiled gratefully as she accepted his offer, using his arm to pull herself up.

"Thanks," she said, still blushing from her ungraceful landing.

The three teenagers made their way out into the courtyard, and rapped the bricks without a second thought. They had all been here too many times to find it hard to remember the combination. It came as second nature to them.

As the blank brick wall came away and made itself into the archway he knew so well, Harry unconsciously pulled his jacket round himself tighter as he looked onto the bleak street. He sighed as he looked at the bordered up windows of the shops he loved so much.

They strolled in silence down the street until they reached the ever familiar shop front of Flourish and Blotts. Harry looked up at the sign before entering extensive shop, and smiled. There was something about Flourish and Blotts that just warmed his heart, although he was not sure what it was. Perhaps it was the familiar scent of parchment and ink, or maybe it was because it reminded him of one of his best friends, Hermione.

Harry stepped over the threshold of the shop, and began to wander between the teetering towers of books. He looked through the bookshelves, reading the titles that caught his eye. He sighed as he looked at one book, "Magical Me". The beaming face of Gilderoy Lockhart graced the front cover of the book, and Harry was suddenly hit with a wave of unpleasant memories of that man. Harry shook his head in an attempt to rid his mind of the unpleasantness of having to remember that man.

Harry continued to walk through the rows of bookshelves, occasionally stopping to look through a vaguely interesting book, or a book he had remembered from his previous years at Hogwarts.

Elsewhere in the shop, he heard the distant, yet distinct "Yes!" of Hermione. Clearly she had found a book she had been looking for. He chuckled slightly.

Looking ahead of him, he saw his most favourite part of this shop. It was the bookcase in which all of the books needed for Hogwarts students were kept. He smiled as he walked through the archway of books into the room. Looking around his heart was warmed to recognise the familiar features of this room: its high ceiling with its bookcase full of exciting books, the ladder which was used to reach said books, the beautiful girl standing at the top of the ladder.

Hang on. Beautiful girl standing at the top of the ladder? That was new!

Harry swung himself round to get a better look at the girl, and suddenly he realised all at once that it was the girl from earlier.

His heart skipped a beat.

"Oh my God", whispered Hope. It was him, the boy from the landing.

His hair was sitting messier than earlier on, apparently it was windy outside. Now that she could see him in proper light, she knew she had been wrong. This boy was not just handsome, this boy was bloody gorgeous!

Hope had to regain control on herself, she suddenly felt very light headed and felt her knees begin to wobble. She gripped onto the bookcase tightly, trying to gain a little extra support to step herself from falling off the ladder and looking like a prat.

'Breathe Hope, it's only a boy.' She told herself hastily, 'You don't even know his name. He probably doesn't even think your halfway attractive! Now stop being so silly and ask him to levitate your wand to you!'

Hope took a deep breath. This wasn't going to be easy. Why couldn't someone else come through that archway, why did it have to be him? Now she would be lucky if she didn't fall off the ladder, never mind climb down it!

Harry had to rip his gaze away from her. He was almost positive she would think he was some kind of pervert for looking at her for so long. But to be perfectly honest, he couldn't help it! She looked so cute standing at the top of that ladder. He smiled shyly up at her, and she looked away, obviously blushing furiously.

'Say something, you prat!' said a voice that sounded strangely like Ron in his head, 'You were complaining earlier that you hadn't even spoken to her, now here's your choice!'

But he was saved the bother, for at that moment she called down to him in a shaky voice,

"Uhm. Would you mind please levitating my wand up to me? I've left it in my jacket pocket."

Her voice. Oh how it made his stomach do back flips. He looked up to her and nodded silently.

'Way to go, idiot! Go ahead and nod away, that's really going to impress her that is!'

He had a strange feeling that someone had just pushed him from behind, because he was not sure he had told himself to start moving towards the jacket and bag that were lying in a heap on the floor. Harry looked back up at her,

"This your jacket?" he asked, trying to make his voice sound as stable as he could. Failing miserably, he looked down and waited for the reply, to hear her voice again.

"Yeah, it should be in the inside pocket." She said. Her voice was like music to his ears, he was sure that he could sit and listen to her speak all day, and never get bored. He loved the sound of her voice.

It amazed Hope that she hadn't fallen off the ladder at that moment. He spoke to her, and her insides went crazy. His voice was deep, yet soft. It sounded comforting and kind. She had only heard him speak the once, but she loved it.

She watched intently as he drew out his own elegant wand. It was clearly used and worn, but that made it all the better. She didn't like things as important as wands when they were brand new. She liked them when they were worn and used; they had more character that way.

She watched him as he silently cast the levitation spell over her wand, and she watched as it silently floated its way up to her position on the ladder. She reached out her hand to accept the floating wand, and smiled when the warmness of the cherry wood under her fingers. Hope always did like her wand. Eight and a half inches long, cherry wood with a dragon heartstring core. It was nice and swishy, and had gotten Hope out of a few sticky spots over the years.

Hope smiled down at the boy and said a shaky "Thank you" to him. He smiled back and said, "You're most welcome" in return.

She held his gaze for a while, and Harry found himself lost in her eyes and her warm and inviting look. Her deep green pools were so beautiful he wondered if he would ever be able to look away from him.

There was something about this girl, something that intrigued, something that made him want to stay in her company as long as he could and find out as much about her as he could.

He heard someone call his name in the distance, and was forced to look away from her in the direction it had come from. It was Ron calling him – apparently Hermione had as many books as she could carry. He felt pure anger towards her just then, couldn't she wait just half an hour more?

"HARRY!" he heard Hermione call this time, her voice sounded angry.

"I'M COMING!" he called back. He looked back up at the girl and smiled before he left through the archway of books.

He had wanted to stay there forever with the girl.

'Perhaps', he thought desperately, 'This wont be the last time our paths cross. This is the second time today we've met. Maybe, just maybe, we will meet again someday'

Hope sank back against the ladder, clutching her wand to her chest, and let out a breath she was not aware she had been holding.

"Harry…", she whispered dreamily…