It's been a relatively quiet three days. Quiet — because modern wizards did not come to me and did not reveal the secrets of my own biography. But basically, I asked Dumbledore for some time to digest this information. As for me, with friends like Pat and Lou, every day is like my name day in a madhouse. Lou almost moved into the Random house and managed to break three cups, one plate,and a hair dryer. And Pat brought a black cat from God knows where (he always had a soft spot for these animals), which managed to bite all of us. Lou, for reasons she knew only, had decided that the cat was waiting for kittens.
"Time will tell," Pat told her. And he named the cat Manhattan for a reason that has remained a mystery to us. We tried for a long time to give the cat a more feline name, but it was useless.
The Dursleys didn't touch me, didn't talk to me, and barely fed me. Well, it's not a big deal, it even suited me, and you can feed yourself at Pat's. I wasn't the only one who needed time to digest the information, so we didn't talk much about witchcraft. I wonder why, because we always discussed with interest everything new that happened in our lives. One thing comes to mind — it was SO new that it was better to keep quiet about it.
Only occasionally did this topic come up in conversations, and even then it was mostly in jokes, such as: "I don't like this guy, But let's jinx him?". So one afternoon we trudged over to Lou's. I honestly don't remember why we went to her house. But it was definitely not our initiative, but our crazy friend's. Because we rarely went to see her ourselves (almost never), because Lou lived in a huge mansion in Mayfair, in this aristocratic anthill, and I personally felt, to put it mildly, out of place there. On the way, Pat was the first to open up a sore point.
Look, Lou, why is your sister a witch and you're not?"
A passing aunt glanced at him warily and hurried away.
"Don't yell like that, Pat," I said softly, " I don't think the wizarding community will be too happy about their centuries-old secret being revealed."
"Why, Potter," my friend said, " even if I stood in the middle of Trafalgar Square and yelled out loud that there were a lot of wizards around, no one would believe me!"
Logical, you can't argue.
"So what's up, Lou?"
"What, what! Lou mimicked, " It's nothing. She's a witch, but I'm not. That's all. I didn't really want to, in principle. All those wands, spells…"
"And she went to college, too. … What's his name ... Hogwarts?" Pat persisted.
"No, she studied in France. Some kind of academy."
"Why not in England?"
Lou let out something between a growl and a snort.
"Pat, why would you want to know? She was born in France, so she studied there. My grandmother lives there. She's a Veela."
"Who?" both Pat and I exclaimed at the same time.
"Vaila," Lou repeated patiently.
"Is that like a witch?" I asked.
"Vaila means vaila! our friend snapped angrily.
We didn't understand, but we didn't ask any more questions.
"That was a great idea, Harry," Pat said sarcastically — " now tell me, plain and simple, where are we going?"
The three of us were standing in a filthy alley that looked suspiciously like London. In the sixteenth century… This street seemed to consist entirely of small shops and small shops that sold, judging by the windows, items of black magic… I'm not an expert, of course, but if all wizards use this product, I'd rather stay an unsuspecting Muggle… "Shoddy alley," I read uncertainly from the old wooden sign.
"Oh, yes! That tells me a lot," Pat said.
We were completely disoriented. On the other hand, dried human heads were displayed behind dirty glass, in close proximity to a cage teeming with huge black spiders.
"I think I'm going to throw up, " I told my friends, trying to fight the lump in my throat. But still, he couldn't take his eyes off the disgusting sight.
"I have the coolness of a scientist fighting with a purely human disgust," said pale Pat, " and the latter, I must say, wins out.
And Lou, as if nothing had happened, looked with interest at the dirty shop window.
"Maybe buy a couple?" — she drawled thoughtfully, - my sister, maybe, will be useful? Or for you?
"Not for me," Pat said coldly.
Brilliant idea.
We walked a little further down the street, and the occasional passer-by, of extremely dubious appearance, looked at us suspiciously. We were looking at a shop that seemed to sell live and not-so-live bats, when a voice came from next to us, which made us all jump in unison.
"Isn't that what you're looking for, darlings?"
An ancient witch stood in front of us with a tray piled high with what looked disgustingly like human fingernails. It opened its mouth in a grin, showing mossy teeth as it did so. Then something between pride and a reluctance to look weak in the eyes of my friends woke up in me.
"Yes, something they have painfully fresh, Grandma" - I tried to joke, despite the fact that I began to feel sick — "we would be drier, drier…"
"That's right," Pat said weakly, " you should go to the cemetery for these things, not to the morgue. It's better there. And then after all these frosts…"
The old lady looked confused.
"after all, what times are there!" she tried to justify herself — "as it turns out…"
Lou studied the tray with the same composure she'd shown in the window, and wrinkled her nose.
"This is from the feet! Who the hell needs them?"
The old witch opened her mouth to make excuses again, but Lou caught us by the arms and dragged us on.
All we could hear was an old man grumbling,
" Damn Slytherins! They know everything!"
"What did she call us?" Pat hissed.
"It doesn't matter," I said, looking around.
"Where the hell is Diagon Alley?"
"Let's ask," our half — vaila suggested, " there's a better-looking store over there."
I glanced at the window of a store called Borgin & Burke. The store was bigger and cleaner, but how about a nicer one… But let's rely on Lou's intuition, she knows more about shopping. When we entered the store, the bell rang, but no one appeared behind the counter. We looked around. Yes... The interior was… Mmm... original. The room was quite spacious, but it was poorly lit. The owners were obviously not familiar with modern marketing technologies. There was a glass display case nearby, where a wrinkled hand, a bloodstained deck of cards, and a staring glass eye lay on pillows. Evil-looking masks hung on the walls, an impressive collection of human bones sat on the counter, and rusty, sharp-toothed tools hung from the ceiling.
"Well," Pat said, " this is definitely not a Dolce & Gabbana accessories boutique."
"Are you sure this isn't a local branch of the Inquisition?" I said hesitantly, adjusting my glasses.
"Careful-don't touch it with your hands. Cursed — has ruined the lives of nineteen Muggle owners to date, "Lou read aloud with a satisfied smile under the gorgeous opal necklace," now I know what I'm going to give my sister for her birthday!"
"Excellent choice, miss!"
I jumped, because I was standing with my back to the counter, and I didn't see a stooped man come out of the bowels of the store, smoothing his greasy hair as he went.
And glancing sideways at our Lou's feet (the old geezer, and there...), because she just decided to wear a short skirt today. Then he looked at Pat, who was looking at the coiled rope of the hangman.
"Anything interesting, young man?"
"Yeah," my friend grimaced, " I've always wanted to buy something like this, frame it, and hang it. Above the bed. To have sweet dreams."
The guy behind the counter he didn't understand and frowned. It must have started to dawn on him that we were definitely not his type of client. It was time to resolve the situation.
"Excuse me," I said firmly, " but can you tell me the way to Diagon Alley?"
He gave me a nasty smile and was about to say something when his eyes fell on my scar. I'd forgotten that my forehead was my business card now.
"Great Merlin," he whispered "Could this be... Harry Potter…"
I tried to force a polite smile (I don't think it worked very well).
"yes. You guessed right. How do I get out?"
"As you exit, straight ahead and to the right," the stunned salesman muttered.
"Thank you," I said politely, and turned toward the door.
Then the bell rang again, and two men came through the door. The first was a tall man, all dressed in black, with rather long, almost white hair. He looked so haughty that it was safe to paint a picture of "I am the king, and you are all rednecks." The other was a guy our own age who couldn't have been anything other than his son. He had exactly the same hair, the same pale, long face, and the same cold, contemptuous look. We ran into them almost at the door, and they stared at us, and we stared at them. However, the guy was staring at Lou more, and looking at them, I realized why-the fashion of wizards was more than traditional. Pat, on the other hand, looked as inspired as if his lab mice had grown to an absolutely indecent size. And I suddenly realized that what I really wanted to do right now was laugh at the top of my voice.
"Wow," the man drawled mannerly, " I didn't expect to meet the famous Harry Potter in such a place."
"That's what always happens" I said, trying not to laugh," when you don't expect it."
The couple silently moved away from the door. The younger albino also gave us a round of scornful looks, but we were already outside. We went straight as the merchant said. We walked through a couple of shops in silence, and at the same time we burst out laughing wildly. It was like a tantrum — we were laughing and couldn't stop.
"You... you..." Pat tried to say over his laughter.… You saw ... his hair!"
"Perhydrol," was all Lou could say, which made her laugh even harder.
"What the hell are you doing here?" A voice suddenly rang out next to us. Wow! Professor Lupin! At least one familiar face!
"We're... there... it's..." I tried to say. It didn't work out.
"I didn't know there was so much fun in a Crappy alley, " muttered the man who was standing next to Lupin. I caught my breath and looked at him. He was tall, with long black hair streaked with gray, and gray eyes that looked at me intently. His face still bore traces of its former beauty, but he looked as if he'd spent half his life in prison. In the dungeons? Aha! So this is my godfather.
"We met an albino there," Pat tried to explain, also calming down a little.
"Did you meet Lucius Malfoy?" my godfather was surprised.
He shouldn't have said that.
The laughter broke out again.
"How?" Pat asked, choking with laughter.… "Lucius?!"
"Can I just say Luci…"
I whispered, unable to speak any louder. "Looks like a homo," said our charmer. Then my godfather laughed, too.
"I don't know how you got here, but we'd better get out of here. They're already looking at us, " said Lupin. We went to Lou's house and met her sister. She, being a sorceress, knew all about me, of course. I offered to go with her to Diagon Alley. Diagon Alley, as she explained to us, is a place where the wizards of London hang out. Well, without thinking twice, we decided to go. Conduct, as they say, reconnaissance by combat. After twenty minutes of talking to Lititia, I realized why Lou hated her so much. Because she talks incessantly and doesn't listen to anyone but herself. What do you mean, a spoiled child… She also smiles all the time. I don't know about you, but I'm always afraid of girls who smile twenty-four hours a day. By the time we got to Charing Cross Road, I was ready to strangle her. Pat was glaring at her with ill-concealed malice, and Lou was grimacing. And Lititia kept brainwashing us about how the English wizards had a barbaric way of doing things, and that things were much more civilized in France. Well, go to France — it was on the tip of my tongue.Then we came to a small, nondescript-looking place with the odd name of the Leaky Cauldron. Lititia wrinkled her nose and went in. The room was too dark and squalid. Several elderly women sat in a corner, sipping sherry from tiny glasses.
One of them was smoking a long pipe. A short man in a top hat was talking to an old bartender who was bald and looked like a toothless walnut. And then we were incredibly divided. Not that we really wanted to continue our journey with Lititia, but we should have asked her where to go anyway.
Then, in some incredible way, we went out through the bar and into a cubbyhole, and then into a passage, and finally into this fucking Shoddy alley. I told Lupin all this while he led us out into the light of day. My godfather (it really was my godfather, Sirius Black) was very amused by all this. Lupin looked a little angry.
"Come on, Remus," Sirius said, " remember where James and I have been! Harry, have they told you yet? You look so much like your father…"