You're a protagonist Harry

Chapter 05 – The Alley
…

"How ya feelin kid?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Really wasn't that bad."

The chuckle from the black giant suggested his plea lacked believability. Okay, so he'd spent five minutes after their arrival dry heaving, there was nothing wrong with that. Lots of people did that. Drunks, teenage girls, other people being side-along apparated for the first time.

It had to be said, his first proper taste of magic had not been as sweet as he'd hoped, but at least he hadn't been forced to retaste his last meal as well.

"So, where are we going?"

"There's a pub around here somewhere Hagrid took me to last time I visited," said Abner. "Been a while, but I remember it had an entrance into Diagon Alley in the back. Big shopping district. That's where we'll pick up your school stuff."

Harry nodded and followed his guide down the street. For someone who didn't sound too sure where he was going, he strode with complete confidence. Harry only wished he felt half as bold.

A number of traitorous thoughts conspiring at the edges of his mind had slowly begun encroaching on his conscious territory. He beat them back with a multiple arms operation and heavy air support, but they be back. They always came back.

"There it is."

The building on the corner sat under an odd haze hanging around the façade of 'The Leaky Cauldron'. The people walking by didn't even seem to notice it was there and made an effort to go around it.

"You sound like you weren't sure," said Harry, taking it all in.

The giant shrugged, "It's been a few years," he said. "Can't give directions for shit, Hagrid, but I can usually find a place I've been before. Instinct."

Stepping inside The Leaky Cauldron was like stepping back in time. It didn't simply look old or old timey. The haze of smoke and beer stench looked to have been around the block before there even was a block to be around.

The man at the bar watched them quizzically as they approached, his expression morphing to dawning comprehension as they arrived.

"Abner!" he exclaimed.

The black giant's face split in a toothy grin, "You remember me?"

"Well it's not every day you meet a nine-foot black colossus," said the barman jovially. "Took a bit though. It's been, what now, five years?"

"Bout that," he said. "How're you doing Tom?"

"Oh, can't complain. Hagrid not with you today?"

Abner shook his head, "Played a little too rough with Fluffy the other day."

The barman chortled, "Which one is Fluffy again."

"The Cerberus."

Knew it, Harry thought as the barman burst out laughing.

"Leave it to Hagrid to name a Cerberus Fluffy."

If that was true, Harry mused, this Hagrid must be a really fun guy.

"An who's your young friend then?" the barman asked once he was all laughed out.

"This," said Abner, laying a hand on his shoulder that nearly sent him to the floor, "is Harry."

"Nice to meet you," Harry groaned, feeling several inches shorter than he had a minute ago.

The barman, Tom, did not immediately reply, looking at Harry as though he were trying to solve a puzzle. The man's attention made Harry nervous. Usually, when people looked at him like that, it meant he was in trouble, or would be shortly. His expression changed when Harry nervously ran a hand through his hair, pulling back his bangs and revealing the mark on his forehead.

"Bless my soul," he said. "Harry Potter."

"Uh," admit it or deny… "yes?"

Unsure what to expect, he was ready to run at the first sign of trouble. The barman reaching across the bar and grasping him by the hand was the least expected outcome.

"Really, an honor to meet you Mr. Potter. Can't say how pleased I am. I mean after what you did, for all of us, can't thank you enough."

The man's enthusiasm was frightening, though no more so than his sincerity. What had he done? What had he done that warranted this? He looked to Abner for support but received a look of puzzlement equal to his own.

Things only got weirder when the various other patrons heard his name and scurried over to meet/thank him. None were any more forthcoming with the reason for their thanks and it took Abner's not inconsiderable presence to disperse the group as he ushered Harry into the back.

"What was that about," the giant asked once they were alone.

"I have no idea. I hoped you might know." He'd never been so terrified by people being nice to him.

"Got me," his guide said. "I'm not from around here. Speaking of which," he said, giving the wall before them a hard stare, "What was that combination?"

The giant man spent several minutes puzzling over the various bricks in the wall, poking several in succession at seemingly random intervals. He was about to suggest they go back and ask Tom when he finally hit upon the right combination and the wall began to move.

"Ah, that was it."

Harry wasn't so sure he believed that, but the sight revealed by the shifting wall was enough to take away his breath and any sarcastic remarks it might have made.

"This is…" he couldn't find the words.

Abner just chuckled. "Welcome to Diagon Alley."

All the teenage cynicism in his body, and it wasn't a small amount, was insufficient to stop him from smiling the biggest, dopiest smile his face could stretch. It was, hands down, the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

Everything about the place screamed magic, from the buildings, all of which looked as old fashioned as the pub, to the people who were like something out of a fantasy book with their robes and pointy hats and every other bit and bob you'd expect a witch or wizard to carry.

"If you're done gawking, we should probably go," said Abner, stepping onto the street where a path instantly opened before him.

Apparently even witches and wizards knew to get out of the way of a nine-foot giant. Harry hurried to catch up, though that's not to say he was done gawking. His head snapped back and forth, trying to take in everything at once.

Stores lined both sides of the street with names and purposes he could only guess at. Flourish and Blott's, Eyelops Owl Emporium, Quality Quidditch Supplies. What absurdity, what nonsense, what the heck was Quidditch?

His constant rubbernecking jiggled his head about roughly and caused one of those thoughts from earlier to break past the barricades and lodge itself firmly in the forefront of his mind. So many amazing things to do, learn, buy, but there in lie one big problem.

"Hey Abner, I know you're supposed to help me with my school supplies and everything but… I don't have any money."

He'd never had any money in fact. For all the work he did around Privet Drive he'd never seen one red cent for his efforts. And the idea of asking Vernon for money for anything, let alone magic school supplies, it was so absurd, so laughable, he couldn't even imagine it. The image simply would not form.

"Yeah, Hagrid mentioned something like that." Fishing into one of his pockets he produced an old looking key and handed it to Harry.

"What's this for?" It looked like the sort of key you'd use to open a treasure chest, but that was probably wishful thinking… right?

"Gringotts," the giant said. "The bank. That's the key to your vault."

"I have a vault?"

"Parently," he said. "Got the key anyway. Spose your parents probably had something set up for ya. Hagrid didn't say much about them, just that they were dead. And by the sound of it, you don't actually know what happened to them either."

Harry shook his head, "The Dursleys always said they died in a car crash. They also said there was no such thing as magic."

"Sorta calls their credibility into question, don't it?"

"That's putting it mildly," he scoffed, when a stray thought bunny bounded through his head and his eyes widened a bit, "You know, speaking of credibility. You never did mention what you went to jail for."

The big man cocked a single sardonic eyebrow, "Not robbing banks if that's what your implying."

Harry returned the eyebrow with an overly innocent shrug, "Just checking."

Gringotts stood, monolithic, at the very end of the alley, allowing Harry the full tour before coming up to the bank.

"That's it."

"Uh huh, and what are those?"

They were perhaps three feet high, decked out in armor of chain and plate and each holding a long pike. "Goblins," Abner explained, "they run the bank on this side."

He wanted to ask what 'side' he was referring to, but he found the words caught in his throat as they walked up the stairs and passed the armed guards at the door.

Inside were more goblins, these in suits and ties. The armor, he thought, was probably an improvement. It hid their ugly sneering faces and wicked glaring eyes. While most seemed preoccupied with various tasks involving gold and jewels, scales and sacks, he had the distinct impression that as soon as he wasn't looking at them, they were looking at him.

That kerfuffle in The Leaky Cauldron had made him paranoid. At least that's what he wanted to think, till he caught one of them staring only to turn away when he realized he'd been caught.

They marched up to the nearest line and began the time-honored tradition of waiting. Harry knew a thing or two about waiting. He spent several minutes playing peekaboo with the goblins who were totally not staring at him every time he looked away. He caught three of them before they made it to the teller which came much quicker than he expected.

It seemed that several people in front of them had peeled off into other lines when they notice Abner looming over them. Handy.

"May I help you?" the goblin asked while sounding like any answer they might give that wasn't no, would be the wrong answer. He must have been used to wrong answers.

"Couple things," Abner said, ignoring the ugly creatures' attitude. "This'n needs to make a withdrawal," he said jerking a thumb at Harry.

"Key?" the goblin asked, to which Harry presented his key.

"Also, this," the giant continued, handing the goblin a scrap of paper… no, parchment which he quickly read, his look of superior boredom turning grave.

"We were, not expecting…" the goblin gestured at the black colossus.

"You were expecting my cousin, Hagrid," said Abner, dipping a massive hand into a breast pocket and showing the goblin something Harry couldn't see.

The goblin looked momentarily shocked, then mastered himself and nodded, "Very well." Motioning to another goblin standing nearby, "Griphook will assist you."

Griphook took them through the back to what looked like some sort of cart. It sat on a set of rails which vanished behind a closed door. The three piled in and Griphook, fiddling with several levers, spurred the cart into motion.

The cart started forward and the doors opened, revealing a vast chamber, and a very steep drop.

For the rest of his life Harry would remember his first ride on the Gringotts carts. He'd never been on a rollercoaster, so he lacked the context for comparison. All he knew was it was the greatest thrill of his life and he screamed like a maniac, but in a good way, as the cart dropped seven stories in seven seconds and that was just for a start.

The cart slowed to a halt in front of their first stop and Abner looked at him with some concern, "You alright?"

Was he? "That, was… AWESOME!"

The goblin was unimpressed and hopped from the cart, motioning the other two to follow him down the hall till they came to a specific vault where he asked for Harry's key.

The gawk returned in full force when the goblin opened his vault and he saw what was inside.

"Holy Moly!"

He totally agreed, but something about the presence of such an obscene amount of gold caused his speaker box to malfunction.

"How much can I take?" he squeaked.

"What are you making the withdrawal for?" the goblin asked.

What was he making the withdrawal for? Come on, knew it a second ago.

"First year at Hogwarts," said Abner helpfully. "Needs his school stuff."

The goblin thought for a moment, then produced a simple bag from his pocket. Handing it to Harry, he gestured for him to follow. Counting out three stacks of gold coins, the goblin dumped them in the sack, then taking a small handful of silver coins, added them as well.

"This should be more than sufficient to cover all first-year expenses," the goblin said.

And it wasn't even a dent in the contents, not even a scratch.

"Just how much is in here?" Harry marveled.

"That I am unaware," the goblin said. "For full details on your vault you would need to speak to one of our account managers. I suggest you schedule and appointment."

Leaving his vault, they loaded back into the cart and took a short trip down another five stories, over so quick he didn't even have time to scream. The walk from the cart this time was longer, taking them down a darkened tunnel to a vault with no apparent lock on it.

"Stand back," the goblin ordered before running his finger down the center of the door.

A series of clicks and whirrs preceded the door splitting down the middle and opening to, what at first appeared to be an empty vault. A closer examination revealed a small paper package wrapped in twine.

Without a word Abner retrieved the tiny parcel, stuck it in one of his pockets, and that was it.

The ride back up was far less exhilarating than the one down and they left Gringotts bursting with cash, and bursting with questions.

"So, what is it?" Harry decided to start with.

Abner shrugged, "No idea."

"Well, aren't ya gonna open it up… to find out."

"Nope," he said. "This ain't for me. I'm just transportin. Transporter don't go looking at what he's transportin."

"Speaking from experience?"

He gave a secretive little grin, "Maybe."

Harry sighed, "Fine, be that way."

"I will."

Resisting a chuckle, "So, shopping, where do we start?"

"Here seems good," he said, drawing Harry's attention to the shop they'd meandered in front of.

"Ollivanders," Harry read.

"I know this one," said Abner, "wand makers. You can get your wand here."

"Like the one you used to turn my cousin into a pig," still somehow not as awesome as it should have been.

"Not quite like mine. Every wand's a bit different. But you learn to do mostly the same stuff with it."

"Well, alright, let's get my wand," said Harry, boldly reaching for the doorhandle.

"You go ahead. I need to check on something."

Harry stopped, "Check on what?"

"Something Hagrid asked me to pick up," he said. "In Knockturn Alley. But I don't know where that is. Need to find someone who does."

"Uh, okay. Should I wait for you?"

The big man shook his head, "First wand can take a while. I should be back before you're done."

And so, as Abner strode off down the street, Harry bravely stepped into the wand shop. He immediately felt less brave upon seeing the inside.

"Good grief that is a lot of dust."

It was a shabby looking place, a simple desk and chair sat at the front, and for the rest, shelf upon shelf full of small boxes, stacked all the way to the ceiling and all covered in a fine layer of dust. It felt like some sort of mausoleum.

"I wondered when I would be seeing you."

And Harry wondered where the hell the crazy old man had been hiding. "Do I know you?"

"I shouldn't expect so," he said, coming around one of the shelves and approaching Harry who stood, tense, ready to run.

Far too many people were surprising him today. He didn't like it. He liked the crazy man invading his personal space with a measuring tape even less.

"Yes. Yes, I see. Which is your dominant hand?"

"The right," he lied easily, as he'd been lying since grade school. He was actually ambidextrous, which was as good as saying 'freakish' according to his aunt.

The tape continued to measure even as the old man returned to his shelves, pacing before them, and choosing a box, seemingly at random.

"That's enough," he said, and the tape rolled up. "Try this. White oak with a unicorn hair. Go on, give it a swish."

Taking the white rod in his hand he gave it, as the man said, as swish. The effect was not what he should have gotten from a swish, not even a swoosh. You can't get much farther from swish than SMASH!

"No, no, not that one."

"Yeah, no kidding not that one," Harry mumbled, already at his wits end with the old kook and his pointless rambling. "What nut house did this guy escape from?"

Whichever it was, they didn't look to be getting him back any time soon. "Try this one, Beech with a Kraken's talon."

Another failure, but wetter this time.

"I think not," he muttered, returning to the shelves.

"Are they supposed to do this!" Harry shouted after him, sputtering water.

"It's a matter of harmonics," he shouted back. "Every wizard is a bit different, just like every wand is different. It's important they match up, especially the first one. A more experienced wizard can attune to a wand but at your age, your core isn't matured enough and lashes out, as you see."

Yeah, he saw alright. Smash and Sploosh. What next?

"Hmm, I wonder." That's what came next.

Full of trepidation, Harry watched the wand seller return, holding yet another box, but holding it with a sort of reverence, or fear.

"Try this," he said, opening the case to reveal a lovely, if not unspectacular looking wand.

Reaching out, Harry gripped the latest magical implement and was seized right back by a rush of warmth and power. A wind blew up out of nowhere, drying him with a gentle yet firm caress.

"Very curious."

Hmm, ask, don't ask… Oh fine, "What's curious?"

The old man looked at him, stared you might say, "I remember every wand I've ever sold Mr. Potter. Every wand. It just so happens that the phoenix whose feather resides within that wand gave one other feather. Just, one. It is curious that this wand should be destined for you, when it's brother, gave you that scar."

A scar which was covered, which he'd never mentioned. So, why did this old man know about it?

"It seems clear to me you are destined for great things Mr. Potter."

"Oh really," said Harry, knowing a sales pitch when he heard one.

"You scoff now, but it must be said, He who must not be named did great things… Terrible things! Yes, but great."

He who must what now, he was thinking as he left the shop. Was it something about old people they couldn't just come out and say a thing, they had to give stupid cryptic hints.

Before he'd a chance to ponder, or in this case, stew, on this topic, his guide returned looking very pleased with himself.

"Got your wand?" he asked.

"Yep," said Harry, showing off his fancy new tool, "find Knockturn Alley?"

"Yep," said the giant. "It's actually connected to Diagon Alley. Why don't we go check it out, then we'll come back and finish your school shoppin?"

Harry grinned, "Why not," I mean, what's the worst that could happen?