My it's been a short time since I posted for this one, it almost feels wrong or something, what with the consistency that I put into the other two stories, but I suppose that is to be expected, and no one has thus far complained, so I ought to be doing something right then? Well, in any case, enjoy! ~F

Chapter Three:

Diagon Alley

Draco Malfoy was getting impatient with the witch who was pinning up his new dress robes to the correct length, she was taking an extraordinary long time at it, when he heard the bell chime, signaling that new customers had entered Madam Malkin's shop.

He wasn't sure exactly why his parents had decided to come a few weeks earlier to the marketplace than when they had told him that they would be purchasing his things for Hogwarts; it seemed rather inefficient to him, but they had become awfully clingy once the letter itself had arrived, as though he was going away forever or something. That at least, he could partially understand, even if it was a little absurd.

'Oh good, Father or Mother have returned to keep me company,' he thought, relieved at the possible freedom from the drudgery of standing completely still for what felt like forever.

But he was momentarily disappointed to discover that it wasn't either of his parents who were led into the back by Madam Malkin, but rather two other boys close to his own age. Both had black hair, but taller of the two had more of a messy mop while the other's was shoulder length and wavier. The slightly taller boy, who was still shorter than Draco himself, had green eyes and glasses and looked incredibly nervous, while the shorter had crystal blue and almost radiated confidence.

'Well at least it's someone to talk to,' Draco thought bitterly, eyeing the annoying seamstress as she led the taller boy onto a stool next to him. The shorter boy stayed close by and eyed Draco for a moment, before turning back to his friend, or possibly brother, as they did look somewhat similar.

"Hello," Draco finally said, noticing the plain black robes they were being fitted for, "Hogwarts students, too?"

"Indeed." The shorter boy answered giving Draco a small smile and nod, while the other boy said nothing, prevented from looking at Draco properly by the way Madam Malkin had him standing, and simply craned his neck as far as she would allow, trying to get a good look at Draco.

"My father's next door buying some books for our manor and mother's up the street looking for a nice place for lunch," Draco said tiredly, although he only suspected that that was what each of his parents were up to. They had been rather secretive of their activities, and he felt that a present was involved somewhere along the line.

"Then I'm going to drag them off to take a look at racing brooms," he added, steering the line of thought to something he felt confident that they'd all share in common, "I don't see why first years at Hogwarts can't bring theirs. I think I'll try and bully father into getting me one when we come back for my school things and I'll try and smuggle it in somehow."

Neither boy reacted much to that so Draco continued on, "Have either of you got your own brooms?"

"I did at one point," the shorter boy commented absently, "But it was a long time ago and I got too busy to replace it when its charm wore off." Meanwhile the taller boy on the stool just stood quietly. Draco decided to press the smaller, far more responsive boy instead.

"Played Quidditch at all when you had it?" Draco asked quickly, hoping for some actual conversation to distract himself from the pain in his feet from standing on the small wooden stool for so long.

"Not really," the boy responded, "I didn't have enough friends to play it properly with," and nodding knowingly at the other boy; he continued, "Harry here was really my only friend for a while now, isn't that right Harry?" Draco could tell the boy was purposely trying to include his friend, but seeing how the other boy didn't seem to want to respond, Draco continued to ignore him.

"Well, I do," he said, hoping that he could at least spark some of the stylish interest in Quidditch that all boys his age ought to share out of these two, "Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house team, and I must say I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" he added, seeing their mutual disinterest and hastily changing subjects.

"Quite cocky in your abilities aren't you?" the other boy countered, grinning slyly at Draco, "Actually I have a pretty good idea what house I'll be in. But I think I'll wait for the Sorting Hat to decide before I shoot down its suggestion, it's only fair, don't you think?" both Draco and the boy's friend snorted at the bold and slightly sarcastic comment.

Draco was starting to like this boy a bit, as he was much more interesting than the sons of his father's two primary associates: Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. The taller boy on the other hand he wasn't sure about, but he decided he would wait to actually talk to him properly before passing judgment; he was standing at an odd angle to be able to even watch their conversation, let alone participate after all. "Well, no one really knows fully until they get there, do they," he grunted in grudging agreement, "But I know I'll be in Slytherin, all my family has been… can you imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

The shorter boy shrugged. "It would depend I guess, although I doubt either of us will go into Hufflepuff. Were both far too intelligent and cunning to be sorted in with that lot I believe," he replied with a lazy smile. The taller boy, Harry, kept stealing glances between his friend and Draco, and Draco thought he could see a bit of confusion mixed with the nervous fear the boy was displaying.

Draco thought it might be time to bring the conversation out of future events to more current topics. "So, are you two here with anybody?"

"No" the shorter boy responded "Just us two."

"Why is that?" Draco asked, almost genuinely concerned, almost. It wasn't that usual for underage wizards or witches to go anywhere without a parent or some form of guardian around. "Don't your parents care that you're here alone?"

The shorter boy glanced nervously at Harry, and then recovered quickly. "Our parents are dead," he said quietly.

"Faykan…" Harry started warningly but Draco accidentally cut him off in his haste to respond. "Oh I'm sorry to hear that…" He said as sincerely as he could muster, it was only proper after all. Faykan gave him a small smile. "But they were our kind, weren't they?" Draco added hesitantly. He had never really known Muggleborns, and he wasn't sure if his father would approve of making friends with any, even if they were nicer than any children he had interacted with in his life.

Faykan stiffened immediately, the smile frozen in place, "Yes, they were." He said shortly.

Before Draco could continue with his thoughts, Madam Malkin said to Harry with a smile, "Your done dear, you can wait right there while I measure up your friend."

As the two boys switched Draco got a good look at the boy called Harry. He looked thin, and the clothes he was wearing appeared to be at least four sized too large for him, as well as distinctly Muggle in nature.

Before he could say anything else however, Faykan continued the conversation where it left off, "Why did you ask us if our parents were wizarding kind, seems a very rude thing to say."

Draco was taken aback slightly; clearly this boy had a spine larger than his body, if he was talking back to a Malfoy. However seeing how it didn't affect either of the friends, as they had already mentioned that they were also descended from wizards and witches, he answered truthfully, or at least according to the truth that his father had taught him:

"Well, they really shouldn't let the other sort in, you think?" Draco asked, more hesitantly, "They're just not the same; they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, I mean can you imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families… What're your surnames, anyway?" he added that last part just in case they had lied, as he probably would have to introduce them to Father at some point if they became his friends.

Harry looked rather upset at Draco's words, and the abrupt return snipe from Faykan completely caught Draco off guard "Well, to answer your questions in order asked: yes, I do think they should let the 'other' sort in, if what you mean are Half-bloods and Muggleborns… yes, I think their just the same as a Pureblood witch or wizard… yes, I can imagine that they could never have heard of Hogwarts… no, I don't think we should only let the 'Pureblood' families be the only ones with magical learning since they're slowly dying out and their nobility has long since left them... And finally…" he paused and looked at Harry, as though seeking permission.

Harry shrugged in a sheepish sort of way, and Faykan continued vehemently, "I am Faykan, scion of the House of Undol, and he, he is Harry Potter, Ouch!" he declared, jumping as a shocked and quite clearly eavesdropping Madam Malkin accidentally jabbed him hard with a needle she was using to hem the sleeves of his robe.

Draco was thunderstruck, not only did this boy think all his Father's pureblood ideals were rubbish, but he WAS a more than just a pureblood himself, but one of the illustrious Undols, who ancestors reached back father than any family in Britain, and were reported extremely rich and magically powerful. And then there was his friend, his FRIEND who was THE HARY POTTER!

"You're Harry Potter!" Draco said, turning shell-shocked to look at the other boy, his jaw hanging a foot off the floor.

"Yes." Harry replied coolly.

"And," Faykan added, cutting off what Draco was about to say next, "Harry here has grown up with muggles for the last ten years, so what do you say to that Mr. I'm-A-Pureblood-Elitist-Prat-In-The-Making!"

Horrified, Draco started to backpedal like mad, "Well… Um… I…" he stammered, not finding anything he could say that could alleviate the situation. He had merely been stating what he thought was true, but apparently these two heirs of powerful Pureblood families were of a drastically different opinion. He had heard much of the Undol family in stories from his father's school days, and they always tending toward the sides of an argument that were destined, almost as though willed by magic, to succeed.

"It's alright," Faykan said finally. "Firstly, you didn't know, and secondly, it won't matter, since Harry and I will more than likely be in Gryffindor like his parents."

With that Faykan hopped off the stool, as Madam Malkin had just finished with him as well, and the two boys made their way to leave after paying for their robes, which were to be owled to them at a later date.

"Wait, please!" Draco called out after them, backpedaling furiously, but Faykan only sternly replied. "See you at Hogwarts, I suppose…" and walked off.

Draco scowled, angry at himself for messing up trying to make real friends so badly. 'Damn it,' he thought bitterly.

~~Sina tea kirma : This is a line break~~

Harry was really quiet after the whole 'Malkin' event, as Faykan deemed it, as he was still rubbing the spot where she had accidently stabbed him with a sewing pin. He spent a good half hour explaining everything that was talked about inside the store, from Quidditch, which Harry learned was a game played on broomsticks, to Gryffindor, Slytherin and Hufflepuff, which were three of the four houses at Hogwarts, the last being Ravenclaw.

After meeting the pale pointed-faced boy, Harry decided he didn't like him a whole lot, but Faykan said not to judge him too harshly, as Purebloods unfortunately tended to teach their children to be a bit stuck up and full of themselves, somewhat like Dudley was being raised.

Afterward, they went to a bookshop called Flourish and Blotts and bought all their required books for the year. Faykan literally had to drag Harry away from some of the more advanced spell books, saying he wasn't even close to ready to touch, let alone read them. The two best friends then bought their cauldrons and potion supplies from the Apothecary, including all the ingredients they would need for the entire year. Finally, the two boys wandered over toward the last shop they needed anything from.

The sign above it read: 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.,' but before they went in, Harry felt the now very familiar tug on his wrist as Faykan dragged him backwards to a dark shop that said on a sign over it 'Eeylops Owl Emporium.'

"Why are we going in here Faykan?" Harry asked, as the list said pets were only optional.

"We're going to go get you your birthday present, of course!" Faykan said excitedly. He pushed Harry inside and flat out ordered him to choose an owl for his gift. Harry, slightly embarrassed, eyed a beautiful snowy owl resting peacefully with its head under its wing. Faykan noticed Harry's looks of wonder as he watched the white bird sleep and poked him in the ribs.

"Is that the one you want Harry?" he quested. Harry wanted to say yes so badly, but he didn't want to make Faykan pay too much just for a simple pet. But, before he could tear his eyes away, Faykan reached over and picked up the cage, carrying it to the front desk and purchased the bird for him. As they left Harry could only stammer his thanks until Faykan stopped him by placing a hand over his mouth.

"Enough Harry, I was more than happy to buy her for you. You're my best friend and I NEVER, EVER want you to think you aren't worth any material possession, provided it's within reasonably limits of one thousand galleons or less." He added with a small chuckle. Harry smiled; Faykan was terribly at jokes sometimes, but he was simply the best, best friend ever.

As they entered Ollivanders minutes later, the two boys heard the tinkling of a bell ring somewhere in the back of the store, and for a moment or two they milled about in the front, neither wanting to really sit on the spindly chair nearby, as it looked really old and fragile, instead setting the cage with Harry's new snowy owl on it. They were both so in awe of the pure sensation of magic around where there were that they didn't notice an old man walk up to the other side of the counter until he cleared his voice, making them jump slightly.

"Good afternoon," he said in a soft voice.

"Hello," said Harry, who was closer to the man than Faykan was.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. 'Those silvery eyes are a bit creepy,' Harry thought. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand, eleven inches, pliable, a little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it but it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes. "And that's where..."

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen and a half inches, yew, powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Faykan.

"I'm sorry dear boy, but I'm afraid I don't know who you are." Mr. Ollivander said after a long moment, looking greatly troubled, "Who are your parents?"

Clearing his throat, Faykan said "They were Lord Faykan Undol the seventh and his wife, the Lady Tari, sir."

Mr. Ollivander stared at Faykan in the eye for a moment, and then rocked back on his heels slightly, shaking his head. "Hmm, I don't believe your family has ever bought their wands from me before. However, I'll never turn down new business," he said, smiling slightly

"Well, now, Mr. Potter, Mr. Undol. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which are your wand arms?"

"Err, well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.

"Left…" Faykan said confidently.

Ollivander nodded absently, "Hold out your arms. That's it." He measured both Harry and Faykan from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We mainly use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons, but they are only the beginning of the many choices of wand cores. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results using another wizard's wand."

After he measured them in every conceivable way, he finally bustled into the back of his shop, pulling down many different long thin boxes. When he had gathered two or three full armloads onto the front desk, he started opening them one by one and handing the wands to either boy as he rattled off the wood, length, rigidity and core of each wand. What felt like an hour later, Faykan finally had a wand that Mr. Ollivander seemed satisfied with, "Elm and giant eagle feather, eleven inches, quite rigid, good for defensive magic," he had said.

When Faykan waved it as instructed my Mr. Ollivander, a shower of blue, green, and silver sparks came cascading out of the end. Harry on the other hand, took considerably longer until, muttering about tricky customers; Mr. Ollivander pulled out a long dusty box out of the very back of the store, and walked around to stand next to Harry in front of the counter. Pulling out the wand he handed it gingerly to Harry.

Harry took the wand. He felt sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

Faykan whooped in delight and Mr. Ollivander said "Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious…"

When Harry had asked him what he meant by 'curious' and Mr. Ollivander explained that he could remember every single wand he ever sold, and that the phoenix feather core of Harry's new wand was a brother to the wand that gave him his scar. Since Faykan had already explained about how Harry had received that scar, he couldn't help himself when he muttered "Voldemort."

"We do not speak his name." Mr. Ollivander said, (at that Faykan scoffed loudly but Mr. Ollivander ignored him,) and he explained that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had done great things, terrible to be sure, but nonetheless considerably great things, and that he expected Harry to also be destined for similarly great things in his future.

Harry was quiet for the entire trip back to Mrs. Figg's house in Little Whinging. Faykan didn't disturb him, seeming to know that Harry wanted time to mull over the days many events. As Harry climbed into the second guest room's bed at the Figg residence he couldn't help but wonder why everyone seemed to be afraid of Voldemort's name, except for Faykan of course. He was just thinking about how odd it was for people to be afraid of something as simple as the name of an evil wizard who had been gone for ten years when he finally drifted off to sleep.

Potential Spoilers Ahead! You have been warned!

Oh my where to start... Well, there was a massive reworking of Draco's introduction, as I had always felt that it was something a bit rushed, and far too close to the canon entrance, although I kept a canonical feel to it regardless, there was a lot more of his own thoughts added, as well as a bit more reasoning as to why Draco would be horrified to realize just who he had been talking to, and that they did not share the commonplace Pureblood views.

Ollivanders was kept more or less the same, as I saw no real issues with the original. With respects to Harry, the man would have remained close enough to canon to make sense, and Fay's interactions worked well I believe... and just now I realize that I will be referring to myself in the third person technically for the rest of this story... goodie...

Still, keep up those reviews, and mentions scenes in the future that you may want to see reworked, or had some trouble understanding, so that I have note of it when I reach that point. As of right now when I am posting this, I am nearing the end of Book 1 in my editing, so either the end chapters from there or anything past that would be best to mention, although I am not opposed to anything being commented upon, even the weather... Ha, ha, ha... I fire myself for the bad joke...

More to come! Until then my readers. ~F