AN: Again, thank you for every favourite, follow and review. Since some of you have PMs turned off, I'll answer a few questions here.
Hermione GrangerPotterWeasley: New chapters are posted every Monday. In addition, I sometimes post on Wednesdays or Thursdays, if I've written more than one chapter that week. (I like to keep a 10 ch Buffer so there won't be any long waits in case uni decides to take up most of my time)
Mestre720: Will you believe me if I say that the thought already struck me? XD
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Harry stepped out of the misty vault barrier and took a deep breath. The moment he'd crossed completely, the onyx began to reform, and in an instant the inky black stone was integrated with the walls again.
"Did you find everything you wanted?" Death asked and rearranged Harry's hair with her fingers.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, got it all. We may leave now." He told the crotchety goblin with a nod. Said goblin looked exceedingly displeased with the long wait. Harry didn't care.
The ride back up to the surface seemed to somehow go faster than when they'd been going down. Maybe the goblin was trying to make him motion sick? Well he'd have to try much harder to achieve that, Harry thought.
Like Kartaak had promised, the keys to his mother's vault and the Potter family vault, were waiting for him at the till. He put them with the rest in his satchel and stepped out of the bank.
"You don't have to come with me, you know. I'm more than capable of doing my own shopping." Harry said to Death, trying to convince her that he didn't need a chaperone anymore.
"I know." Death grinned widely. "So, where are we off to first?"
Harry let out a sigh. So much for doing this on his own. At least being able to go as an adult was an improvement from last time. "Twilfitt and Tattings I think. I will need some proper clothes to wear if I plan on using this identity in public. Transfigured clothes won't do in the long run." Except perhaps those Death made for him. He ran his hand over the smooth material of his robe, hoping it would last longer than the standard transfiguration because it truly was a work of art.
Harry and Death entered the pristine shop, a little bell above their heads signalling their entrance. Unlike Madam Malkins, the area was large and airy. The powder blue walls were tastefully decorated with moving wizarding pictures of women and men wearing clothing designs that seemed to be 'in' this season.
One of the corners held a seating area with luxurious furniture that seemed right out of the Victorian era. A small house-elf in a nice little uniform popped by from time to time with fresh pastries and tea to those who waited, either for their order or for their companions to finish their fitting.
Harry was startled by whom he saw daintily sipping at a cup of tea. She was young, beautiful and blonde. Harry had only met Narcissa Malfoy a few times in his past life, and never actually spoken to her, but she was easily recognisable. Her face was that of a pureblood mask, completely cold and in control. It was something he needed to practice himself. Their eyes met and he offered her a polite but disinterested nod in greeting. He couldn't let on that he had any idea who she was.
A middle aged woman with sharp features and perfectly coiffed brown hair stepped up and greeted them with a smile. "Welcome to Twilfitt and Tattings, how may I assist you today?"
"I heard that this was the place to come to if one was in need of some quality clothing." Harry offered a thin smile.
"You have heard correctly, sir. Perhaps you and your companion would like to step into one of our private rooms while we discuss designs and materials?" The seamstress suggested.
Harry realised that Death actually seemed to have much better taste when it came to clothing than himself, and didn't that sting. It wasn't as if he'd had the opportunity to dress in anything fancy growing up. Fashion was so far out of his comfort zone that it was ridiculous. What this meant however, was that he'd have to bring Death with him for guidance. He felt like sighing. "That would be appreciated." He nodded and followed the witch into the private room.
The private room was much like a little office, with comfortable chairs spread out around a round table, a small, raised podium in front of a large mirror and a cabinet with colour and fabric swatches. He noticed that there was a sketchpad made from parchment on the table as well as charcoal sticks for drawing. The three of them sat down. "What exactly did you have in mind?" The seamstress who introduced herself as Mrs Yaxley, asked while looking at her two clients.
Harry pushed the thought that she might be the wife of a Death Eater to the back of his mind, choking the voice that instinctively screamed 'evil'.
"He needs a few robes for daily wear, along with trousers, shirts and waistcoats. Preferable in soft and durable materials and dark colours." Death butted in before Harry had the time to answer. "Accenting colours in silver, gold and green are acceptable." She added.
"It seems my cousin Morticia is very eager to speak on my behalf today." Harry gave Death a light glare and then sighed. "Unfortunately she is correct. I'm afraid I need almost an entire wardrobe."
"Yes, that is what happens when you manage to get your trunk swallowed by a Selma while fishing in Norway." The blonde woman tutted and shook her head.
Mrs Yaxley gasped and looked horrified at the thought of him losing all his clothes, and not the fact that he'd apparently almost been eaten by a vicious sea serpent himself. "You poor lad. No wonder you need everything. "She patted his hand gently. "Not to worry, we'll get you sorted out right away. I'll make sure you have something you can take home with you today. The rest might require a few days to get done."
"Thank you." Harry smiled appreciatively at her.
Mrs Yaxley went straight ahead and began discussing designs, cuts and fabrics. It all went completely over his head and he sat there looking like a brainless idiot. Death thankfully took pity on him and took charge of the discussion. Harry made a few suggestions here and there, but mostly stayed quiet.
In the end, the two women had designed an entire wardrobe for him. Everything from shirts and robes to socks and underwear. Harry had blushed when they got to that part.
"If you come back in about four hours I should have some essentials ready for you." The seamstress smiled. "Would you like me to owl you the rest of your order once it's finished?"
"No, I'll come by and pick it up myself. Do you have any idea when it might be ready?" He asked.
"No more than five days. I'll make it a priority." She smiled at him. Harry thanked her before leaving with Death. He noticed that Narcissa was gone by the time their appointment had finished.
Walking around Diagon Alley without people staring was incredibly freeing. Being just a stranger among the masses was the complete opposite of his past life. No photographers trying to take a sneak picture, no pedestrians calling him either a hero or villain, no reporters writing drivel, it was peaceful. He smiled softly to himself.
Harry's eyes took in the comforting sights of Diagon Alley. Wizarding Britain was fucked up for sure, but this little shopping district was so filled with magic and curiosities that it could make you forget that for a little while.
He walked around without a particular destination in mind, he had a few hours to burn after all. He spied Fortescue's ice cream parlour not far away and it brought back good memories from his past. The summer of Sirius' prison break was probably the best in his life until now. He'd spent weeks living at the Leaky Cauldron. In the day, he'd walk around the Alley, doing some window shopping, always ending up at Fortescue's. Florean Fortescue himself would then help Harry with his homework or offer up an extra scoop of ice cream when he was there. The more Harry thought about it, the more he realised that Mr Fortescue had been the best adult in his short life. At least in the way that he didn't want anything in return for his kindness. Harry decided that he'd stop by and get an ice cream before he returned to Privet Drive, and if he left a large, anonymous tip, well, no one would complain.
Next to Fortescue's there was a second-hand bookstore. He'd never been inside before, but he thought he remembered the Weasley's getting their school books from there. He stepped inside. It was filled from floor to ceiling with books of various sizes, topics and conditions. It was pure chaos compared to a proper library. Still, Harry thought there might be some gems hidden among the rest. A disinterested man sat by the counter, reading some sort of romance novel according to the cover. He didn't seem to notice or care that a potential customer had entered, which suited Harry just fine.
Ever since dying and coming back, Harry had renewed his love for books and reading. As a child it had been his only respite from an abusive home, and he would often spend his breaks between lessons holed up in the school library. He'd been clever and intelligent, but the desire to learn and excel has been crushed fairly quick due to his relatives.
"Do you think there is some sort of system in here?" Harry asked Death as he skimmed through the backs of some well used books. "The Chudley Cannons: Fact and Fiction." Harry read out loud. It was a book Ron would probably love.
"There doesn't seem to be a system, no." Death said as she curiously peered around the narrow aisles. "Is there something in particular you are looking for?"
"Maybe something on runes or transfiguration?" He hadn't come in with anything particular in mind, but now that he thought about it, maybe he should get something on the Animagus transformation. It was a good skill to have if he got a practical animal out of it. Either way it didn't hurt to have another ace up his sleeve. "Actually, please tell me if you find anything on Animagi."
Death responded positive and vanished somewhere between the stacks to look for books that might interest her Master.
With his left hand, Harry cast a quiet Silencing charm around himself before summoning his mother. He wanted to let her have free reign of the shop. "Hi mum. I thought you might want some new reading material. Just tell me if there's anything you want and I'll add it to my own purchase." He grinned at her.
Lily returned the grin. "You know me well, son of mine." She responded as she rubbed her hands together. "I hope you've brought enough money to indulge your old mother."
Harry rolled his eyes and snorted. "Don't you worry your pretty little head about it, mother dearest." He quipped back with a smirk.
Lily guffawed and began trawling the shop for interesting titles. Every time she found something she'd call out for Harry and have him collect the books for her. More and more books found their way into Harry's arms and eventually it got so heavy that he nearly dropped them all. That was when he remembered that he was a bloody wizard. He felt like kicking himself. He retrieved his ebony wand and used it to levitate the books effortlessly, like he should have done from the start.
"Oi! Is this supposed to be a hint or something? I'll have you know that my cleaning is spotless!" Harry indignantly said as he levitated down 'Household Charms And How To Use Them'. The insult actually stung. Due to his upbringing he'd become a bit of a neat freak, and his living area and trunk had always been clean and organised. At Hogwarts he'd managed to tone it down slightly so the other boys in his dorm wouldn't notice how obsessive he could get, but it had been extremely hard. He was particular about his things and didn't like others touching them without permission either.
"Not with spells it isn't." Lily absentmindedly said as she perused the top of the shelf by floating several feet above the ground. She wasn't aware of Harry's 'issues' since she wasn't around him at all times. Of course she knew that he was extremely tidy and cleanly for a boy his age, but she hadn't seen how it could sometimes get to the point of obsession. "It will save you time."
Harry swallowed down the hurt. It hadn't been a dig at him in any way, merely his mother trying to be helpful. "Thank you." He mumbled.
Death eventually made her way back to them, but when Harry went to introduce her to his mother, Lily was already gone. Odd, he thought, but let it be. "Did you find anything?" He asked the deity.
"Yes, there were a few curious titles around, some quite old but still in decent condition." Death said, carrying seven different tomes in her arms.
Harry peeked at the top one. 'The Animal Within' it said. It had to be something about the Animagus transformation, he figured, that or werewolves. The books were added to his total and he decided to pay. He'd already collected more than he'd be able to read in months. In addition to anything that caught his or his mother's fancy, he'd also gathered a full set of school books from year one to seven, for all the subjects he intended to take, which was all of them. If Hermione Granger could get a Time-Turner in her third year to take all the subjects then he didn't see why he wouldn't be able to do so as well. He wanted to trounce Tom Riddle's exam scores. It had become one of his goals for the future, and he had plenty of time to prepare.
Harry cleared his throat to get the attention of the clerk sitting behind the counter. The man had been so absorbed in his romance book that he startled at the sound, nearly dropping said book. "I would like to pay, if possible" Harry said, levitating the books into neat stacks on top of the counter. However, not all of them fit so a few piles remained floating to the side.
"Oh, right, yeah." The man said dumbly and began adding up the books total. "Do you need a bag?" He hesitantly asked, looking at the mound of books that would be leaving the shop. "No that's fine, I've brought my own." Harry replied. Once a book was registered by the clerk, Harry levitated it into the book compartment in his satchel.
"That'll be 54 Galleons and 11 Sickles." The clerk read out the final sum. Harry summoned 55 Galleons out of his money pouch and handed them over. Considering the worth of all he'd bought, a few Sickles extra was definitely not a hardship to give away.
Harry cast a Tempus and wondered if maybe he should get a wristwatch instead of having to use magic whenever he wanted to know the time. It would be much more practical in the muggle world. He wondered where wizards bought something like that, did they have their own watch makers? "Do you know where I can acquire a good wrist watch?" Harry questioned the clerk.
The man blinked slowly before he answered, still in a bit of a daze after the large sale he'd just made. "Uuuh. There's Chroniker's down in Horizont Alley I think."
Harry thanked the man and quickly made his way over to Horizont Alley. It was a side street that intersected with Diagon, Carkitt Market and Knockturn Alley. Walking briskly, it didn't take him long to reach his destination. 'Chroniker's Timepieces' had a vast array of clocks in stock. Everything from fob watches to big grandfather clocks and sweet little pendants.
An elderly man with wild, white hair sticking up in every direction met them as soon as they entered. Harry explained what he was looking for, a wrist watch that would automatically adjust to the size of the wearer. According to Mr Chroniker that was no problem. Most of his wrist watches were Self-Sizing. He showed Harry several models, some were small and simple, while others were big and flashy. In addition there was a plethora of enchantments and extra features that he'd had no idea existed. Why would anyone want a watch that gave motivational speeches at random intervals? Or a watch that loudly screamed every hour? People were strange.
Instead of the more eclectic watches, Harry selected one made of platinum with a dark, brown, leather strap. It was a classic style with no fancy decorations or 'bling'. It did however have some nifty enchantments beside the automatic sizing.
The crown held three specific settings that could be activated by pulling it out into the correct notch and twisting it clockwise before pressing it down. The first setting was your standard watch with three hands. The second was an alarm function that would send magical vibrations up your arm until you turned it off. Mr Chroniker guaranteed that it would wake you up fast. The third and final setting was a monthly calendar that showed the date and moon phases. In addition to all of this, it had a slew of standard charms placed on it to keep it from breaking or being damaged. It could even be taken for a swim or thrown into a fire without getting a scratch according to the watchmaker.
Harry paid and put it on his left wrist immediately. He looked down to check the time and realised that they still had over an hour left before they could pick up his order at Twilfitt. Plenty of time to get the rest of his shopping out of the way. On top of the list was a wizarding tent and a decent broom. He knew that his beloved Firebolt wouldn't be out for years to come, so he'd just have to settle for a Cleansweep or Comet for now. He wasn't entirely sure what was on the market in the eighties, but he was sure he'd find something good enough. He was mostly just planning to use it for leisurely rides around the island, not games of Quidditch.
With all their shopping concluded, and clothes picked up, Death transported them through the shadows to Ilé de Anastasie.
