Author's Note: Hi gang! Thanks for all the encouragement. Sorry this took so long. I've been rather busy. Here's the next chapter, and as always, feel free to leave any helpful comments in a review!
Harry crept out of Number 4 in the predawn light. He was wearing his best fitting pair of trousers, a long sleeved shirt, a jacket, and a filched baseball cap to hide his scar. A threadbare backpack of Dudley's rested on one of his shoulders. It contained a change of clothing, just in case someone recognized him and he needed to change his outward appearance to shake them off. He had packed a few granola bars and apples for the trip there and back. He did not want to eat out more than once today and he wanted to avoid crowds if possible. He did not want a mob following him around Diagon Alley. He patted his back pocket as he went down the walk and gave a grim smile to himself. He was going to Diagon Alley today. He was re-entering the wizarding world.
Dudley's birthday had passed without event. Harry had talked to the snake, but did not make the glass disappear. He had not been locked in his cupboard since then. The only thing he regretted about not revealing the letter's presence is that he was still in the cupboard and not in a bedroom. He remembered the first time around, his thoughts of wanting to be back in the cupboard with his letter. It was true. He preferred the letter. Dudley could have the second bedroom for now. Harry would get it once he returned to Privet Drive…if he returned.
The Dursleys had given him a few strange looks the past few days. Harry knew he was acting a little differently than before, but he could not help it. It was hard to act eleven when he felt nineteen. It was very hard. So, he acted like a quiet child, maybe even a little shy. His relatives seemed to accept it, but he had caught them looking at him with thoughtful expressions on their faces more than once. Aunt Petunia was the one who was the most suspicious. Harry had no idea what to do about it, but only continued on. He needed to get to Hogwarts. That was all he needed.
He did not want any help from anyone. He knew what it would be like, to live his life again. He would be prepared this time around. He stayed up many nights, crafting the persona he could show to those at Hogwarts. He made lists of people safe to talk to, but not befriend, and those he could think of friends without too many problems. He would keep a distance from them all through his personality. He would be reclusive in study and when rumors happened to arise about an Heir of Slytherin, or his mental status, his personality would be so well established that he would be above suspicion. He would be anonymous, even with his Boy Who Lived title.
The Boy Who Lived title would give him a little leeway in a few things and no leeway at all in others. He could afford to be a little quirky and prefer his own company, especially when he let a few "details" from his aunt slip. Harry had decided that she would have told him how his parents had died and why. More importantly, that the killer was never caught and that the wizards were only happy to resume their peaceful existence. Harry knew that the wizarding world slipped into complacency once they all started calling Voldemort by a hyphenated name. Just as they did for Harry. This Harry Potter would know all of that and not forget it. He would be a cautious child, but a quiet unobtrusive child. He would not call attention to himself. He would bury himself in books and hide in the library. He would learn all he could…to protect his family, of course.
Let everyone think what they wanted. Let them be disappointed that they would not have their Gryffindor Hero. Harry didn't care. He would act as he saw fit without regard to anyone else. That had been one of his first mistakes. He had cared about what every single person thought of him. He had been sensitive to their needs and demands and did not pay attention to his own. No small wonder that he had lost his way several times on his journey to defeat Voldemort, only to fail in the end. Voldemort had killed him, and Ron and Hermione had been left to the Dark Lord's nonexistent mercies. Harry liked to think that Voldemort had killed his best friends quickly out of anger. He could only hope. Technically, it hadn't happened, but it was enough to haunt his dreams at night.
The dreams were bad, but he was willing to suffer through them if it ensured that he would be able to defeat Voldemort later. He knew that they would present a problem later at Hogwarts, but for now, his relatives did not know about them. He only slept about five hours a night, but that was a lot compared to what he received while with Voldemort or even before that, with his visions almost nightly at that point. They were not real visions, only fabricated ones for Voldemort's fun, but they were enough to keep Harry from sleep and exhausted. He thrust those thoughts from his mind. He had found an old, barely marked notebook of Dudley's and he now used it to record his dreams and work through them. Hermione had given him the idea when his dreams even woke her in her room. She had sat with him for several nights running until she suggested the notebook. He used the idea now to keep from waking his relatives. It was helping. Not much, but it was the best he could do.
He had found his letter in the hallway and hid it before his relatives could see it. No one knew about the letter, and no one knew that he was leaving. He followed through with his aunt's plans for him to go to Stonewall High. He allowed her to dye the uniform and he tried it on when asked. She mentioned something about taking it in a bit, so that he wouldn't look too out of place. Harry did not want to give any hints that he wouldn't be wearing it to his aunt, so he had thanked her and went to finish his chores.
His chores became valuable to him in more than one way. He hated being scrawny the first time round, and he wanted to avoid that same thing again. He was happy to do them, as the chores served two purposes. He could think without anyone disrupting him and he could train his body. Any loads he had to carry doubled. He resisted his own movements in a hope to build muscle. He was in training to ensure his survival. He got up early every morning to jog around the neighborhood. He knew that trouble would find him again at Hogwarts and he promised himself that he would at least be able to outrun that trouble!
His chores had given him skills that were marketable in the small neighborhood surrounding Privet Drive. There were plenty of respectable spinsters and young mothers in the neighborhood that needed a willing lad to do the yard work, clean and sort the attic and basements, or an approachable child to keep an eye on the kids while she nipped outside to have a gossip with the neighbor next door. Harry offered to do any of those jobs for a small fee and he had gathered quite a nice pile of money in just the few weeks he had been working in the neighborhood. The money was enough to get him to London today and even allow a meal out on his own. His relatives followed the "out of sight, out of mind" policy concerning him. As long as he kept out of their site and his chores were done, they ignored him. He put those types of thoughts from his mind. He would enjoy Diagon Alley today. He was certain of it.
Harry entered the Leaky Cauldron with a sinking feeling in his stomach. He pulled his cap lower and dropped his head. He did not want a crowd around him. He felt uncomfortable in them since an attack a year ago (Hermione had mentioned something about a defense mechanism of some kind). Harry had not liked having people close to him since then. He weaved through the tables and up to the bar. "Excuse me." Harry said in a soft voice.
Tom turned around and looked down at Harry. "Yes, son? You're rather young to be out by yourself." Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He was working on the young thing. He got it. He was short and scrawny. For now, it served his purposes. People underestimated him. He still couldn't wait to become taller. "Are you lost?"
"I don't think so, sir. This is the Leaky Cauldron?" Harry asked and waited for Tom to nod. The man finally did as Harry hoped. "My aunt told me to ask for Tom so that he could show me the gateway to Diagon Alley, because I don't have a wand yet, and she doesn't have magic." Harry explained and hoped the man would take it. He didn't want to have philanthropic wizards to gather around him when he could manage quite well on his own. "Are you Tom, sir?" Harry asked. He just wanted to go to Diagon Alley.
"Well, lad, you're in the right place." Tom said as he abandoned his rag on the bar and stepped out from behind it. "Just follow me." He told Harry. "You are starting Hogwarts this year?"
"Yes, sir. I'm very excited." Harry was telling the truth. He was looking forward to going home again. He trailed behind Tom like a puppy and followed the man out into the alleyway that lead to Diagon Alley. He was supposed to be a kid, right? He could act like an excited eleven year old if he had to.
Tom smiled at him and tapped the appropriate brick to open the gate. "There you are. Good luck to you."
"Thank you, sir." Harry stepped through the portal and heard the bricks close up behind him. Diagon Alley looked just as brilliant as it had the first time Harry had visited. He wandered around a bit and allowed himself to gape. He had missed seeing Diagon Alley look this way during the war. He smiled to himself and felt at home for the first time in years. No one was staring at him. He was just another random young wizard. No one special at all. He loved the feeling.
Gringotts was his first stop and he hoped that they would allow him access to his vault. All of his plans hinged on having access to his vault. He knew that Dumbledore had his Gringotts key, but he knew the goblins had magic different from the wizards. Perhaps something they could do would allow him to get some money without the required key. He put his head down as he climbed the stairs up to the man doors. The uniformed guard at the door bowed to Harry and Harry gave him a grave nod back. The goblin actually smiled a little bit at the gesture before resuming his stoic glare. Did goblins like children? He made a mental note to look it up later.
He dodged around the people milling about in the lobby and went up to a rather bored looking clerk. "Excuse me, sir?" He asked in his most polite voice possible. The goblin looked down at him.
"Yes, sir?" The goblin asked with a rather pointy-teeth smile.
"This is my first trip to the magical world." Harry started. "I grew up with nonmagical relatives. My aunt was only able to tell me a few things about the magical world. She mentioned that I needed a key to access any bank accounts, but she wasn't sure if one existed. She told me to ask at the bank. May I ask you?" Harry explained everything in a subdued voice. He wanted to appear as normal as possible.
"Your name, sir?" The goblin asked.
"I'm Harry Potter." Harry glanced around as the goblin started paging through a large book at his left. No one appeared to have heard his name. He let out a breath and smiled a bit. He could do this without being exposed. Right?
"You do have an account here with us, Mr. Potter. Two, in fact. One is a trust fund and the other is the family account. You may only access your trust until your sixteenth birthday." The goblin said. "I can retrieve your key for you, if you would like?" The goblin continued.
"Yes, please. Thank you, Mr…" Harry looked to the goblin for his name.
"My name is Manurek, Mr. Potter." He told Harry with a slightly different smile. "Your aunt raised you to be a very polite person." He chatted a bit with Harry while he gestured to a nearby goblin. "Relret will take you down to your vault." He told Harry as the other goblin came up to him. "Take care with young Mr. Potter, Relret." He leaned down and handed Relret Harry's new key. "Do come back and visit soon, Mr. Potter." Harry thanked the goblin and left with Relret. That was…odd. The goblins were acting strange. Almost respectful. He wondered what was different from the first time around to make them act like this. The ones he had met with Hagrid had been surly, at best.
He followed Relret down to the carts and enjoyed the ride as much as the first one. He loved the carts and was happy that they had not changed at all and probably never would. The cart slowed down at Harry's vault and stopped. Relret hopped out and opened Harry's vault. "Here you are, Mr. Potter." He said with a small bow. Harry stepped into his vault and looked around. It looked the same as the first year he had seen it. He accepted the small bag Relret handed to him and gathered two large handfuls of Galleons into it.
"Mr. Relret?" Harry asked after pausing a moment to look at everything in his vault. "Is it possible to convert some of this to Muggle money?" Harry asked the smaller creature.
"Yes, Mr. Potter. We can do that once we return to the surface." He told Harry.
"How many coins would I need if I wanted five hundred pounds?" Harry asked as he stood and looked down at his feet.
"One hundred Galleons, Mr. Potter." Harry gave him a confused look. "The gold coins are Galleons, Mr. Potter. They have the highest value." The goblin then explained how much value each coin had and the exchange rate. Harry nodded his understanding (it was always good to have a refresher course) and gathered the Galleons he needed. He was amazed that the bag continued to hold more and more before he realized it was magical. He felt like the Muggle-raised wizard he was and smiled sheepishly when Relret chuckled at Harry's expression.
The trip back up was just as exciting as the trip down. Manurek waved him back over to his window and smiled down at Harry. "Relret told me that you wanted to change some money?"
Harry gave a confused look between the two goblins. "How did you…?"
"We goblins have magic of our own, Mr. Potter." Manurek said with a smile that was not exactly reassuring. "Now, how much did you want to change? 100 Galleons, was it?"
"Yes, sir." Harry decided that he would file away this entire conversation for examination later. There was something different about the goblins and he could only speculate about what it was. He handed Manurek his money pouch and watched as the goblin changed the money from gold to Muggle.
"There you are, Mr. Potter." Manurek said as he handed over a large stack of bills. Harry blinked before dividing it up and placing it in his pockets. "Was there anything else you needed?"
"No thank you, Mr. Manurek. You have been very helpful." Harry told the goblin with a nervous smile.
"You're welcome, Mr. Potter. Welcome back." Harry paused. What did that mean? Welcome back to the wizarding world? Harry decided that that had to be what he meant. He couldn't have meant anything else, could he? No, surely not.
Harry left the bank a good deal wealthier and had to stop himself from running to Ollivanders. He needed his wand! He had caught himself checking for its presence several times an hour at the Dursleys (another reason why his relatives gave him odd looks). He entered the dusty old shop and looked around. Ollivander was not there at the moment. Well, he was, but not in the immediate vicinity. Harry danced from foot to foot in anticipation. He could almost feel the wand in his hands again.
"Good morning, Mr. Potter." Ollivander said from beside Harry.
"Hello, sir." Harry said. "How did you…?" Harry had a feeling he would be asking that question a lot today.
"I know almost everyone who comes in, Mr. Potter. You've come for your wand?" Ollivander moved away and snapped his fingers. The tape measure buzzed around him and started taking measurements. "Which is your wand hand?"
"I'm right-handed." Harry answered, fighting the urge to bat away the tape measure.
"I see. Well, let's give it a go!" The tape measure dropped to the floor as Ollivander piled several boxes onto the counter. Harry then endured almost twenty minutes of having wands snatched away from him before Ollivander gave his well remembered statement of "I wonder?" He presented Harry with his wand and Harry felt the warmth he missed for so long spread through him and filled him. He waved the wand and watched as bright white sparks fell from the tip of his wand. "Excellent! I told you I would find you a wand. It is curious."
"How much, Mr. Ollivander?" Harry refused to hear how Voldemort could be "terrible, but great". As if anything terrible could be great. He paid his price and left the shop quickly before Ollivander could hold him back. His next stop was for some Muggle clothing and then Madame Malkin's. He dashed through the Alley and back through the Leaky Cauldron in hopes of finding a brand new wardrobe.
No wonder Aunt Petunia had never taken Harry shopping. It was exhausting! Harry collapsed onto the curbstone and put his bags around him. He had bought a new pair of trainers (only to be worn at Hogwarts), seven button shirts, a few T-shirts, seven pairs of jeans, two pairs of slacks, two jumpers (black and green) new underwear and socks, a jacket and coat, and seven pairs of pajamas. He had also purchased three hats, one for each type of weather. He did not want people gawking at his scar and he would prevent it whenever possible. He had a basic wardrobe now. He planned to spend most of the time in his uniform, but he needed something to wear on the weekends and holidays.
Harry rearranged his bags from five large ones to four large ones (after stuffing both his coat and jacket into one bag) and made his way to the Leaky Cauldron. He ordered lunch while he was there and settled his bags around him in a type of protection fort. He hoped that it would keep everyone away from him. Tom appeared with Shepherd's Pie and a butterbeer and Harry forgot about everything else as he relished his lunch. He had missed butterbeer! He paid his bill and wished Tom a good day as he reentered Diagon Alley, using his own wand to open the gateway.
Madame Malkin's looked quiet and Harry decided that would be the best place to go. He pulled his cap down to make sure his scar was covered and entered the shop. The bell ringing over the door startled him and brought out Madame Malkin herself. "Hello, dear. Hogwarts?"
"Yes, Madame." Harry answered, but didn't have a chance to get out anything else as she took his bags from him and placed them down on the floor next to her counter and pulled him into the back.
"I have another young man being fitted right now." She told Harry. She stood him up on a stool and Harry got a good look at the "young man". Draco Malfoy was looking Harry over. "Let me have that bag of yours, as well as your jacket and hat." Harry handed his backpack to her and slid off his jacket. "Hat, dear." Madame Malkin said a little impatiently.
"Oh, right." Harry said as though he had forgotten it. "Sorry." He took off the cap and allowed her to throw a robe on him and start pinning.
"Hello. Hogwarts too?" Harry wondered if this was the idea of some cosmic joke played by the Fates. He had to be cursed with Malfoy on what was supposed to be an enjoyable day. He checked the thought and frowned. Was this something he was supposed to change?
"Yes." Harry answered. Best to keep things simple and noncommittal for now. He would deal with more complex matters later.
"My father's next door buying my books and mother's looking at wands." Draco told him in the same bored voice as before.
"I thought a wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around." Take that, Malfoy!
"Are you a Muggle-born?" Draco asked with horror in his voice. He seemed to be inching away.
"Sorry?" Harry decided to play with him a little bit.
"Born to Muggles? People without magic?" Draco explained.
"Oh, no. My father and mother were both magical." Harry said with a smile.
"Then how do you not know what a Muggle is?" Draco sneered. Harry raised an eyebrow. Draco had nothing on Voldemort.
"I was raised by, er, Muggles. My parents were killed when I was small. I didn't know I was a wizard until I received my letter from Hogwarts. I live with my aunt and uncle." Harry said as he tired not to laugh at Draco's expression. It was rather humorous to find Draco looking a mix between frightened and disgusted.
"Sorry." Draco said, not sounding sorry at all. "About your parents, I mean." Harry nodded and watched as Madame Malkin pinned a small part of his robes. "So, how much do you know?" Draco asked.
"Um, there's four houses in Hogwarts. There was a rather bad wizard for a while, mostly the reason I live with my aunt and uncle. My mother was good at Charms and my father was good at Transfiguration. There's a wizarding sport played on broomsticks called…starts with a 'Q'."
"Quidditch." Draco supplied. "I don't suppose you play?"
"Not yet. My aunt told me wizards follow the sport like my uncle does football." Harry said quietly. "I can't wait to see it. I wonder how hard it is."
"It depends on the position. Father says that it will be a crime if I'm not picked for the House team." Draco said with the slightest bit of pomp.
"What do you say?" Harry asked. He couldn't help himself. He loved to get Draco riled up.
"Pardon?" Draco said as he turned to face Harry. Madame Malkin snapped at him to return to his original position or he would be up there twice as long.
"What do you say? You've given your father's opinion; what is your opinion?" Harry asked with a smile.
"I hope I make it." Draco said after a moment of deliberation. Well, well, well. It sounded like Draco had opinions of his own, even at this young age. Wonders would never cease. "I'm sorry. We've been talking all this time and I haven't introduced myself. Draco Malfoy." Draco extended his hand and Harry shook it.
"That's you done, dear." Madame Malkin said. Harry hopped down from the stool and turned to retrieve his jacket, bag and hat.
"You're Harry Potter!" Draco gasped out in the next second. Harry closed his eyes for a second before looking up.
"Yes, how'd you know?" Harry said as he looked up to Draco. "Nice to meet you, by the way." Harry said as he pulled on his jacket.
"Your scar!" Draco said as he stepped down from the stool.
"Oh, yeah." Harry smoothed his hair down and put on his hat. "I don't like to show it. But how did that tell you my name?" Harry said to Draco. He was surprised when Madame Malkin nearly picked him up off the floor and hugged him. His feet dangled a few good inches from the floor. "I need an adult!" Harry rasped out as she squeezed his ribs. "Put me down!" Harry demanded.
"Sorry about that, dear. I can't thank you enough." Harry wondered when Madame Malkin went round the twist and eyed her with some trepidation. He moved away from her and placed Draco between himself and her. That was just…frightening.
"You don't know, do you?" Draco said as he rounded on Harry. Harry jumped back. He hated when people got too close to him!
"Know what?" Okay, so he did know, but this seemed to get an honest Draco. "That people in the wizarding world are mad about scars?" Harry felt that most wizards acted in a ridiculous manner half the time and wanted to present that to Draco to chew on for a while. He backed up a pace from Draco and prepared to run. He would run if he had to. He could do it.
"Merlin! I can't tell you here!" Draco turned to Madame Malkin. "What are you waiting for, Madame? Ring up our purchases so we can get out of your shop!" Draco snapped at her. The harsh comment seemed to bring the woman back to her senses. She apologized once more and gathered Harry's and Draco's robes and went to her cash register. "I can't believe you don't know!"
Harry was ready to part from Draco just outside the door, but the blonde latched onto him and dragged him towards Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream shop. "My treat." Draco told Harry with a smile. "You'll need a treat."
"What is it?" Harry asked as the Florean himself came and took their order.
"You're famous, Harry." Harry wondered when Draco had started calling him by his first name. "You defeated You-Know-Who!" Harry blinked and stared at Draco.
"What?" He demanded. Anyone else would have been totally confused. "Who?"
"You-Know-Who." Draco returned.
"No, I'm sorry. I don't know who." Harry said.
"Alright. You know absolutely nothing." Draco sighed. "About ten years ago or so there was a wizard. Some would call him Dark. He did many great things but some were very terrible. He wanted to rid the world of Muggleborns."
"Sounds a bit mental if you ask me." Draco glared at him and Harry fell silent. It seemed as though Draco liked being the story teller.
"Loads of people were afraid of him. He killed whoever stood in his way, and once he decided that you needed to die, you died. One night, and no one knows why, he went after your parents." Harry fought away the memories of the green light and his mother's screams. Would he never get over it? "No one really knows what happened after he killed your parents except that he tried to kill you. After that, who knows? The curse he used didn't go the way he planned. You survived and he did not. Not in one piece, at any rate." Draco shrugged. "You're called the Boy-Who-Lived."
Harry gave himself a few seconds before speaking. "Right. Two questions."
"Go ahead and ask." Draco said as their ice cream arrived.
"One: Is there a chance he's still alive?" Harry asked in a calm voice.
"There is a chance, but no one knows for sure." Draco answered with complete honesty.
"Okay. Second question: What's his name?" Harry looked Draco in the eye. "You've said 'You-Know-Who', but you haven't said his name."
"Um, you're not supposed to say his name. Many people are still afraid of him and are afraid to say his name." Harry wanted to shake Draco.
"That's a little silly. It's just a name." Harry told him. "It's not like he's going to appear if you say it." Draco looked around and leaned towards Harry.
"Lord Voldemort." He whispered. "That's his name." Draco told him. "Don't expect me to say it again." He ordered Harry.
"No worries. I won't be able to stop myself from laughing. 'Voldemort'. There are just too many ways to abuse it." Harry said with a smile. "Right. Now I know. So, I'm famous and that's why Madame Malkin went mental on me?"
"That would be correct." Draco said as he took a bite from his sundae. "Doesn't it bother you to say the name?"
"Why should it?" Harry asked. "It's just a name. A rather odd one, but still a name. I think that I can safely say it without him appearing." Harry picked up his spoon to his neglected sundae and marveled at the healing powers of chocolate and ice cream mixed together. Bliss.
"Suit yourself." Draco said with a shrug. "Others will call you mental." He warned Harry.
"I'm used to it. My cousin calls me that because I like to read." Harry told Draco. "That and 'freak', but I can't help the fact that I'm a bookworm." Harry wondered how soon he could shake Draco Malfoy and continue with his shopping. He still needed books, Potions supplies, stationary, and his owl. He would arrange to have Hedwig stay at Hogwarts (a nice note to the headmaster should suffice).
"A Potter in Ravenclaw?" Draco said as he screwed up his face. "I just can't see it." He said as he returned to his sundae.
"If Ravenclaw's for the bookworms, then I have found my home." Harry announced. He hadn't thought about it, but Ravenclaw could suit his purpose of being unnoticeable.
"You're not bothered at all by what I told you?" Draco asked in a calm voice.
"A little at the fame, but so long as I wear my hat and don't say my name too loud, I should be fine, right?" Harry asked. It appeared that Draco did not have an answer.
"Draco?" A familiar voice drawled from beside their table. Harry looked up at Lucius Malfoy. "Who's your new friend?" He asked in a polite voice with the slightest hint of sneer.
"Oh, hello Father. This is Harry Potter." Lucius looked surprised as he shifted to take a good look at Harry. Harry wondered if he had time to hex the man before the other could reach his wand. His peaceful shopping day was ruined.
Author's Note: I couldn't leave you without a cliff hanger. It goes against my nature. I hope you all enjoyed!