Harry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer's Stone
See Chapter 1 and feel free to curse anyone who charges you to read this story.
Chapter 2: Diagon Alley
It took a little discussion, but eventually it was determined that Harry would need to go with Hagrid to get his school supplies since Hagrid had no idea where to find them locally. It took even more discussion before he had permission to go. Harry could tell that the whole thing had been very sudden for his mother. It took several assurances that he'd be back tonight, that school didn't start for another month and he'd need to learn where the school was so he could get there when school started.
It was easy to tell when Chichi finally accepted that her son was going to school, because she instantly started giving orders. Harry knew it was her way of coping. Hagrid was grilled about how they were getting there and when they could expect Harry back and Harry was sent upstairs to shower and dress in civilized clothes.
When Harry came back down he was wearing black slacks and his best white silk shirt. But despite the care he'd taken in dressing he was unable to escape his mother's primping as she adjusted the shirt's straight collar and the embroidered fastenings that ran down the front. He'd known she would do it, so he bore it with patience until she finally handed him a large cloth wrapped bundle filled with sandwiches for the trip and escorted him outside to the waiting Hagrid.
They would be traveling using Mr. Popo's flying carpet. It turned out that was how Hagrid had gotten to their home in the first place. Gohan had wanted to come to, but Harry pulled him aside and convinced him to stay, promising to take him the next time after their mum had more time to get used to the idea.
So Harry found himself sitting behind the giant of a man that was Hagrid in companionable silence as they flew toward the horizon. At least it was companionable on Harry's part. Harry had tried to start a conversation with him by asking about the magical world, but Hagrid had told him that it was best if he saw it for himself. Judging by the way he gripped the sides of the carpet on either side of him and the quaver in his voice Harry figured Hagrid was just too scared to talk.
Harry amused himself by watching the scenery fly by until it got to dark. Thanks to moving against the rotation of the earth it was early morning when the carpet dropped them off in a secluded area not far from a tube station. It was the first time Harry had ever seen one, as well as the first time he'd ever handled English money. But he had ended having to buy the tickets. Hagrid had brought more than enough money, but he didn't seem to be able to figure it out. So Harry had to do it for him, it was like Hagrid couldn't figure out base ten math.
Now that they were on the ground Hagrid was talkative again. Harry wanted to talk about the magical world, but Hagrid insisted they couldn't talk about it where muggles could overhear them; it was against some statute of secrecy. Though all Harry had to do was ask bout the statute of secrecy and Hagrid was all to happy to explain to him about the ministry of magic and how it's job was to keep everything wizards did secret from the muggles. He said it was so muggles wouldn't be constantly bothering witches and wizards looking for magical solutions to all their problems. That explanation sounded a little fishy to Harry though.
The closer they got to London the more self-conscious Harry became about the looks they were getting. Harry couldn't tell if it was the way he was dressed or Hagrid's incredible size. Or maybe it was the way Hagrid kept pointing at common items like parking meters and turnstiles while muttering to himself about silly muggles. Or maybe it was because Hagrid was so big he had to be let around the turnstile, because he couldn't get through.
Harry followed close behind Hagrid once they left the underground. With Hagrid's immense size, he didn't think he'd lose him in the crowd, but Harry didn't know where to go to get his school supplies and Hagrid seemed to know exactly where he was going. So Harry contented himself to follow in the man's wake. On the way Harry began to consult his supply list looking for places that they might be able to buy his school supplies. It didn't look like they were going to be able to find them in any normal store. The passed a couple shops advertising some new age magic and fortune telling but Hagrid didn't stop when Harry pointed them out. "Oh, them are jus' a bunch o' muggles wha' thin' they know bout' magic. Ya won' fine anythin' o' use in there."
Finally giving up on finding a place to buy his supplies on his own Harry resigned himself to just following Hagrid. Harry kept himself occupied by looking around. Due to Hagrid's size he didn't worry about loosing track of him. And while London seemed to be a lot like the other cities in Asia Harry had visited it was also very different, particularly the older buildings.
There was one up ahead that looked particularly shabby nestled in-between two much newer buildings. It had an old wooden sign declaring it the leaky cauldron. It looked out of place but every time Harry tried to look at it, he seemed to feel a subtle impulse to look away. It was exasperating.
Everyone else seemed to be walking past it without paying any attention to it. In fact the only person that seemed to notice the building at all was a brown haired girl about Harry's age that was doing her best to ignore a blond boy standing in front of her. He was standing closer to the brown haired girl than was polite and he seemed to be upset. Harry was about to ask Hagrid about the strange building when he saw the boy's shoulders tense. The next second the blond cocked his arm back and elbowed Harry right in the face.
"Hey, be careful," Harry said, feigning annoyance.
"Where did you come from?" the boy asked. He was clearly very certain that there hadn't been anyone near by a moment ago, and he was right.
"Asia." Harry smiled openly at his joke. He really shouldn't of used his generally considered inhuman speed like he did, he usually made sure not to show his power in public, but he didn't want to just let some girl get hit.
"I mean, what are you doing?" The boy seemed to know that he was being mocked
"Buying school supplies," Harry tried to smile as innocently as possible. Unfortunately he'd never really mastered the innocent look.
"Alone?" The boy's shoulders were tensing back up and he was unconsciously opening and closing his fists.
Harry casually looked toward where Hagrid was still walking toward him. He didn't seem to notice that Harry wasn't still behind him. But he would catch up soon. "It would seem so."
The boy was about to strike out and Harry knew it. The girl apparently knew it too, because she tried to change the subject to distract him. "So where are you going to school?"
Harry took a good look at the girl for the first time. She had extremely bushy hair and two front teeth that seemed to be a little too big. She was wearing blue jeans and a red blouse and had a no-nonsense look about her. Harry didn't know if there was a rule about not telling anyone about the school, but he figured any muggle that heard the name would just not recognize it. "Hogwarts."
However Harry expected the girl to react he didn't expect her to jump with excitement and squeal, "Me too!" It apparently surprised the bully too, because he stopped just as suddenly as Harry and looked at the Bushy haired girl.
"He's not…?" Harry gestured toward the bully.
"No, he's just a muggle," the bouncing a girl regained some of her earlier seriousness. "He's going to Smeltings. I used to go to school with him before I got my letter."
"So your parents aren't?" Harry asked cautiously, unsure of how much he could say around the muggle boy.
"No, but they've been ever so great about it." Hermione spoke breathlessly, her excitement returning. "Are your parents?"
The muggle bully apparently didn't like to be ignored, especially not by a couple of geeks that thought they were so great like there was some big secret about going to their expensive private school full of other freaks like them. He'd show them that it wasn't smart to talk down to normal people.
"No, but I'm told that my biological parents were." Harry leaned back, to avoid the bully's fist. "This is all new to me." Harry continued to ignore the bully as he twisted and turned this way and that to avoid his punches.
"Are you going to be OK?" the bushy haired girl asked, concern and awe both evident in her face.
"Oh, I could do this all day." Harry stepped towards the bushy haired girl extending his hand as the bully tripped over Harry's heel. The Boy fell on his face so hard that the bushy haired girl couldn't help but wince. "I'm Harry."
The bushy haired girl turned back towards Harry and started as if seeing his hand for the first time. "I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger." She took his hand, shaking it firmly.
Furious at being ignored, the bully leapt up and lunged at the two brainiac-freaks. Harry stepped forward and grabbed Hermione, and smoothly twisted her away from the lumbering bully. Gracefully, at least on Harry's part, they danced around two more of that gorilla like boy's punches. He lifted her arm up and spun Hermione around like a ballroom dancer while the third punch whizzed through the air between them. Then stepping close be bent forward and dipped her low allowing another blow to pass harmlessly over his head.
Pulling the now flushed Hermione up straight, Harry pivoted on one foot and spun around so that he standing beside the breathless girl and facing their assailant. The would-be bully was breathing heavily. "I felt the wind on that one," Harry smirked as he stepped forward. "Are you still sure you want to go hitting everyone that upsets you?"
Further enraged the bully stood up straight and lifted his arm over his head to swing a hay-maker, but was stopped by a loud voice.
"What's go'in on 'ere?" Hagrid's voice boomed.
"Oh nothing," Harry said as he turned toward Hagrid. "This gentleman was just giving us a demonstration of his martial arts technique."
"Technique?" Hagrid asked, confused. Hermione was just as bewildered if for different reasons. "This true?" Hagrid asked the completely dumbstruck bully.
"Uh-huh," was all the boy could get out as his head bobbed up and down trying to take in the sight of the giant of a man in front of him.
"Yeah, it's really incredible." Harry sounded excited. "I've never seen a technique so off balance and unguarded and sloppy looking. I was scared to touch him, because I knew it had to be a trick."
Harry was in the middle of his rant when Hermione's parents jogged up. So they were just in time to see the blond haired bully punch Harry right in the face.
"See!" Harry yelled excitedly with the other boy's fist still pressed in his face. "Look at that control, I didn't feel a thing!"
Not sure what was happening Hagrid decided to press forward. "Come on Harry, everythin' you're looking for is right in 'ere." Placing one hand on Harry's back Hagrid ushered his charge into the shabby building. Hermione grabbed her parents and pulled them in after. No one noticed the boy they left behind fall on his butt and stare open mouthed at where everyone had been standing.
"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron." Hagrid waved one of his massive hands in front of him in an expansive gesture. "It's a famous place."
Harry didn't see how such a dingy pub could be a famous place, but it certainly had its share of strange people in it. Most of them wore long billowing robes. There were a couple of gray old women twittering away in a dark booth in the corner. There were three men playing cards at one table and a smattering of other people of varying shapes and sizes scattered around the large dusty room. And it must have been a trick of the light, but out of the corner of his eye Harry could have sworn he saw a teenage girl walk right out of the lit fireplace in the far side of the room.
Harry had his doubts about whether or not the old pub was famous, but it seemed Hagrid sure was. The chatter in the tavern seemed to drop away as soon as Hagrid had come in and most of the patrons turned to look at him, several calling out to him.
Harry heard Hermione coming up behind him. She seemed to be too busy answering her parents' unasked question to notice the drop in volume. "…he's going to be going to Hogwarts too, his name is Harry."
The old grinning bartender seemed to choke on what he was about to say and jerked his head to look away from Hagrid and on to Harry. "Harry Potter," the man called out loudly. The bald bartender started shuffling out from behind the bar.
Shocked by the outburst Hermione turned back around to see a bald old man whose broad smile made so many lines on his face that he resembled a toothless walnut approaching Harry. The whole room had gone quiet as everyone watched the bartender approach the startled young man as if the two of them were the only actors on a stage.
Harry looked up at Hagrid only to see the bearded man smiling back down at him. When he turned back he saw the bartender looking at him intently. "Bless my soul," The old man's voice was quiet, but it carried over the entire room. "It is you." The old man reached out his hand. Harry reached out tentatively to shake it. When he did the old man shook it so violently he seemed to be trying to take it off. "Welcome back Mr. Potter. Welcome back!"
Pandemonium ensued after the man's excited welcome. After hearing the sound of dozens of chairs scraping the wooden floor Harry looked up to find himself surrounded by a throng of well wishers each trying to shake his hand.
"It's an honor to meet you."
"Thank you for everything."
"My parents used to tell me bed-time stories about you—I've always wanted to shake your hand."
The throng of well wishers didn't disperse until he'd managed to shake each of their hands, some of them more than once. Hermione and her parents had disappeared some time during the confusion. Harry didn't see where to.
The last person to approach Harry waited until the rest of the crowd had gone. He seemed to be afraid of crowds. The lanky turban clad man wrapped his arms around himself and seemed to lean away from people as if they were much closer than they were. If not crowds, the way the man shivered at the slightest sound or sudden movement told Harry he was definitely scared of something.
"Professor Quirrell!" the approaching man jerked back at the sound of Hagred's voice, almost as if he were trying to sneak up on them by walking right in front of them. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."
"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."
"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"
"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously.
"But that's the class I'm looking forward to the most," Harry replied excitedly
Professor Querrell looked a little intimidated at the boy's comment. It took him a moment to regain his bearings. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up some g-garlic, m-myself." The way he shuddered lead Harry to believe the professor didn't like garlic very much.
After a moment of uncomfortable silence Hagrid decided it was time to move on. "Must get on -- lots ter buy. Come on, Harry."
The patrons of the Leaky Cauldron, however didn't let them get away quite that easily. Once it became apparent that Harry intended to leave, he found himself crowded again. Some of the people just kept coming back. But fortunately Hagrid's bulk allowed him to usher Harry out despite his admirers. They got out the back door just in time to avoid two six-year-old girls that had been pulling their mothers back toward Harry. Of all the strange people in the old bar, there was something about the way those giggling wide-eyed little girls looked at him that unnerved him more than anyone else in the pub. It was like the way Vegita looked at you before he pummeled you. Like he knew something you didn't.
The back door led to a simple walled courtyard that was empty except for a tin trashcan and the weeds sticking up through the cobblestones.
Hagrid grinned at Harry. "Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh—mind you, he's usually tremblin'."
"Is he always that scared?"
"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag—never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject now, where's me umbrella?"
Harry had heard about vampires. His dad had fought one in Baba's tournament once. Actually Puar and one of his dad's friends whose name Harry couldn't remember had beat one. They ate garlic and breathed on it. That must have been why professor Quirrell wanted the Garlic.
Hagrid pulled out a pink umbrella and began counting bricks in the wall above the trashcan. "Three up... two across," he muttered. "Right, stand back, Harry." He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella. The brick he tapped quivered—it wriggled—in the middle, a small hole appeared—it grew wider and wider—a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.
"Welcome," Hagrid said, "to Diagon Alley."
Harry liked to think he'd seen a lot of the world. He'd seen some of the largest cities in Asia. He'd lived in the countryside and had played with monsters and creatures that paleontologists would give their right arms just to see. But Harry had never seen anything as fantastic as this hidden street.
With a grin firmly plastered on his face Harry stepped through the archway after Hagrid. The sound of brick sliding on brick caught Harry's ear causing him to look behind him just in time to see the archway close back up.
The First shop Harry could see had cauldrons of all shapes and sizes stacked out front. Cauldrons—All Sizes—Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver—Self-Stirring—Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.
"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," Hagrid said, "but we gotta get yer money first."
Harry didn't know where to look, there was so much to take in and it was all incredible. There were people of all shapes and sizes going about their business. An elderly woman was haggling with an apothecary about the price of dragon liver. There was a frenzy of hooting owls in front of Eeylops Owl Emporium as the largest cat Harry had ever seen walked past it. Harry turned his head back so fast that he appeared to have two heads when he noticed that the cat's tail had a tuft at the end like a lion's. Further up ahead a boy about Harry's age was extolling the virtues of the Nimbus 2000 to several other boys with faces plastered to a shop window filled with brooms. Harry heard the boy say that it was the fastest broom ever created. He just had to show this place to Gohan, otherwise he'd never believe it when Harry told him about it. There were shops with barrels full of newt eyes and toad spleens in front. Others had stacks of magic books or gold and silver trinkets, models of the solar system and maps of the moon. Shops sold robes, vials, parchment, quills and ink.
"Gringotts!" Hagrid announced.
They were standing in front of a white marble building with huge bronze doors that stood open. Standing stiffly at attention in front of those doors dressed in red and gold was a little green creature that Harry almost mistook for a saibiman.
"Yeah, that there's a goblin," Hagrid said quietly as he nudged Harry toward the bank. Relieved that it wasn't one of Vegita's plant warriors Harry followed Hagrid toward the bank. The goblin was a head shorter than Harry, had a pointy beard and sinister looking eyes. It also had long fingers and toes all of which ended in claws. As they passed the goblin grinned and bowed in what Harry hoped was a friendly way despite the sharp looking teeth that didn't seem to fit completely in its mouth. Harry made sure to bow back.
Once past the goblin they came to a set of silver doors with words etched in them:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
'Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob Gringotts," Hagrid said with a shiver.
Two more goblins bowed to them. Even though Hagrid didn't, Harry bowed back. He didn't want to be rude. Once past the second set of doors they entered a vast hall with over a hundred goblins sitting on high stools behind large marble counter. Harry would have stared wide eyed at the scene in front of him if his attention hadn't been captured by the sound of his name being called.
Harry turned in time to see an athletic looking man running straight at him. With Harry's speed it would have been no trouble to avoid the man barreling toward him, but he hesitated when he saw the smile on the man's face that was so wide it nearly reached his ears. The man obviously meant him no harm. So Harry was surprised when he found himself lifted off the ground and spun around; he had expected the man to stop.
"Harry," tears started to form at the corners of the man's eyes as he lifted Harry as far as he could in the air. "I haven't seen you since you were a baby!" The man's elation at seeing Harry again was evident in his laughter. He started spinning Harry around again, but the exertion of holding Harry up seemed to catch up with him. He grunted and put Harry back down. "You were a lot lighter then."
The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood up from the feeling of so many eyes on him. Forcing himself not to look around, Harry studied this man that claimed to have known him as an infant. He wore blue-jeans and a black leather jacket over his athletic frame. His black hair was cut short and as shiny as his jacket. He wore a goatee and a smile that just wouldn't go away.
Hagrid was looking at the two expectantly. When he saw Harry look at him, he spoke up: "Harry, this here is Sirius black. He was yur' dad's best friend at Hogwarts. An' he's your godfather."
"How do you do sir?" Harry asked politely as he extended his hand.
Sirius would have nothing of it. "Call me Sirius. Sir is what I called your Grandfather, and you don't shake hands with someone that has changed your diapers." Sirius ruffled Harry's hair affectionately then placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Well I believe we were here to get money for your school things."
Sirius guided Harry by the shoulder as they followed Hagrid to a counter. Harry couldn't tell how they figured out which one to go to. There weren't any signs that he could see. When they got to the counter, Harry found himself standing in front of what he presumed was a much older goblin. He, if its beard was anything to so by, had grey hair that stuck out in wispy tufts from his head, chin and ears. He also had a larger nose and cars than the younger looking goblins at the door. Harry assumed that like humans, goblin noses and ears never stopped growing, only worse. This goblin wore a heavy knit business suit and a perpetual sneer.
"May I help you," didn't appear to be in the goblin's vocabulary, so Hagrid spoke up. "We'd like to take some money out of Mr. Potter's safe."
"Does Mr. Potter have his key?" the elderly goblin asked suspiciously.
"I've got it," Sirius replied reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket. Sirius handed the key over to the goblin, who scrutinized it carefully before declaring everything appeared in order. Harry wondered if the goblin was disappointed not to find something wrong with it.
"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid said proudly. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."
The goblin returned the key to Sirius before he took the letter from Hagrid. "This is the key to your vault. Take very good care of it and above all, don't lose it," Sirius told Harry, handing him the key while the goblin read the letter even more carefully than he'd examined the key. Harry got the impression that whatever was in vault seven-hundred-thirteen was very important.
"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"
Grip hook was a younger goblin, also dressed in a suit. He guided them to one of the many doors that lined the great hall. Harry had expected more marble, but once they were through the door all he could see was a roughly hewn cave lit by torches on the wall. Grip hook whistled and a mining cart with seats came hurtling up the tracks.
Sirius climbed right in while Harry took that moment to ask Hagrid, "what's the you- know-what in vault seven-hundred-thirteen?"
"Can't tell yeh that," Hagrid said mysteriously as he nudged Harry toward the cart. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusten me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."
It took a bit of jostling to fit them all in the cart. They weren't quite settled when the cart launched forward down the tracks. The caves were a maze of twisting passages. It didn't take long for Harry to get hopelessly lost. He wondered if even Griphook knew the way, or if the cart took them on its own, because the goblin didn't appear to be steering.
Remembering how Hagrid had handled Mr. Popo's carpet, Harry decided not to try to engage the now slightly green looking giant of a man in conversation. Instead he just leaned back and enjoyed the ride. Beside him, his godfather was doing the same, if his toothy grin and light laughter were anything to go by.
The cart finally came to a stop by a small door built into the cave wall. Once they had all climbed out of the cart, Hagrid had to lean against the wall to steady himself. Griphook asked for Harry's key, which he used to open the vault door.
When the door opened a lot of green smoke billowed out. Once it cleared Harry was shocked to see piles of gold coins along with several columns of silver and mounds of little copper coins. "This is your trust vault," Sirius explained. "Your folks set this aside to take care of you until you graduate from school. Once you turn seventeen you'll get access to the rest of your parents' vaults and properties. There's something you're supposed to see as soon as you turn seventeen in one of them. Don't ask me what it is your dad wouldn't tell me."
Harry looked confused at the explanation for a moment before he finally realized who Sirius was talking about. Harry had never known much about his birth family. He hadn't learned that he was adopted until just before the cell games earlier that year. No one had told him he was adopted until he found that he couldn't become a super-sayain like his brother had. Harry didn't have any saiyan blood and thus couldn't achieve the transformation. So it was a bit of a new concept to think of anyone but Goku and Chichi as his parents.
Sirius and Hagrid helped him gather what they thought would be enough gold to buy his equipment. The gold coins were called Galeons and were worth seventeen sickles, the silver coins, which were in turn worth twenty-nine knuts, the copper coins.
Once they had grabbed enough money they climbed back into the cart. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?" Hagrid asked timidly.
"One speed only," The goblin replied with a toothy smirk as the cart launched itself down the tracks again.
The cart picked up speed as it took them much deeper underground. Hagrid got even sicker and Sirius laughed even louder. Harry could only guess that they were miles underground when they finally came to a stop in front of a huge door. Before the other occupants of the cart started to stir, Griphook nimbly leapt out. "Stand back," he said importantly as he approached the door, which Harry noticed didn't have a keyhole.
The goblin carefully examined the door before gently running one clawed finger down its length. The door faded away as if it had never been there in the first place. "If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," Griphook told them.
"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked as he climbed out of the cart.
"About once every ten years," the goblin grinned manically. Harry wondered if all goblins acted as vicious as Vegita or if it was just this one.
Harry expected that this huge vault must hold a king's ransom or some incredibly valuable or maybe dangerous artifact. When he finally was able to look inside he saw that the vault was cavernously large and almost empty of all but dust. It took Harry a moment to notice the only contents of the vault, a small grubby bag that Hagrid immediately stepped into the vault and stuffed into one of the voluminous pockets in his coat.
Harry was disappointed not to get a look at whatever the important item was that was being kept in the special vault, but resigned himself to it. He'd soon be studying magic. That would surely be exciting enough for him. Harry tried to convince himself of that the entire trip back. He couldn't seem to manage until he was back outside with pockets fall of gold to spend at the amazing shops that lined the alley in front of him. Then the mysterious bag in Hagrid's pocket slipped to the back of his mind. The only problem was that Harry didn't know where to go first.
"May as well get yer uniform," Hagrid said as he nodded toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
"But that's boring," Sirius griped.
"He'll need to get 'em 'ventually" Hagrid replied
Deciding to play the peace maker Harry chimed in. "Since we got to do it anyway, why don't we do all the boring stuff first."
"Oh, all right," Sirius replied playfully.
"Listen, yeh two, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." Hagrid looked sick, so Harry agreed. And so did Sirius, but it looked like he was doing his best not to tease the giant man.
So Harry and Sirius walked side by side into Madam Malkin's shop. The proprietor, Madam Malkin was a squat woman dressed in mauve. She greeted them as they entered her shop. "Hogwarts, dear?" she asked before Harry could speak. "Got the whole lot here," she replied when Harry nodded. "Why don't you go stand up on one of those stools and we'll have someone with you in just a moment." She pointed Harry toward a couple of stools standing in front of a mirror.
"And what can I do for you Mr. Black," Madam Malkin asked as Harry passed her.
"Oh, I'm just escorting young Harry to get his school things." Sirius replied suavely.
"Oh my," Madam Malkin exclaimed. "I hadn't thought a man like you would have settled down yet. Who's the lucky lady?"
"He's not mine," Sirus looked terrified by the thought of having a child.
"You don't mean he's…?"
Sirius nodded.
"The poor dear," Madam Malkin muttered what she thought was too softly for Harry to hear as she looked him up and down from across the room. Harry thought he might have seen one of her eyes tear up, but it was gone a second later as her faced turned all business. "Cloe!" Madam Malkin's young assistant stuck her head out of the back room at the Proprietress' call. "Help me fit this young man here for his robes. Nothing but the best for him."
The assistant looked a little put out that her boss needed her help for a single fitting. And the fact that Madam Malkin kept making her mover her pins until everything was perfect. During the whole process Cloe alternated between glaring at her boss while her back was turned and glaring at Sirius when her boss was looking. Harry couldn't figure out why, but she seemed to blame Sirius for the ordeal as much as Madam Malkin. Maybe it was the amused way that Sirius chuckled at the whole spectacle.
Between Madam Malkin's instructions to stand up straighter and straighten his shoulders Harry did his best to stand perfectly still while he and Sirius got to know each other. Harry talked a little about being adopted by his parents and living in the mountains in Asia with his parents and brother. He held back the details of his adventures, particularly the parts about his incredible abilities and having died and been brought back to life with the dragon balls. Sirius seemed to be holding back as well. But it seemed to Harry it was just that it was difficult to tell an eleven year old that you're a rich playboy delicately.
Sirius was telling Harry about how he first met Harry's dad. They were on the train to Hogwarts in a compartment with a bossy witch. Harry didn't hear the rest of the story, because he was distracted by a strange power unlike anything he had ever sensed before. It sent a shiver down his spine.
Sirius looked toward the door after Harry's head suddenly jerked that direction. He saw the door open just as Madam Malkin exclaimed that they were done. A young witch that looked to be Harry's age, or maybe a year younger stepped in followed by her mother. The woman had to coerce a lanky boy to follower her in. He looked like he was walking into his own funeral. Following him two identical older boys walked in with identical smirks, as if they knew some secret joke that no one else did. For a moment the sunlight coming in from the doorway made the five new customers' red hair look like liquid fire.
Harry watched the red-haired family as he paid for his robes and made arrangements to pick them up when they were finished. He couldn't tell which of them the strange power he was feeling came from. He was used to sensing the living energy called ki in all living beings. Harnessing that energy was the source of the extraordinary strength and speed he'd used earlier that day against the bully. He could usually tell exactly how strong an opponent was by the amount of ki they possessed. But, not only did this family seem ordinary enough, but Harry could sense that they had completely normal levels of ki as well. But at least one of them had to be rolling in this strange energy Harry felt. It was unnerving.
Oblivious to Harry's quandary Sirius seemed to be struggling to hold back laughter as his godson began to leave the shop. They almost bumped into Hagrid as they left the shop. He had gotten ice creams for everyone. Harry took one, it turned out to be chocolate and black-berry. Once they started walking away from the shop Harry asked the question he'd been too preoccupied to ask: "What was so funny?"
"Oh, just you and the Potter weakness," Sirius replied nonchalantly. Harry stopped in front of the other two and stared at Sirius blankly. The strange power he felt, but couldn't figure out who it came from, suddenly concerned him a lot more. Even Hagrid looked concerned.
Sirius' grin expanded like an inner-tube being pumped up until it was about to pop. "I can't believe it. You're just like your dad." Sirius exploded with laughter. "You should have seen him Hagrid, trying to check out this red-head witch without her family noticing!"
Harry was slack-jawed. "That's not…" he tried to explain, but he couldn't seem to get the rebuttal out of his mouth.
"No Potter man has been able to resist a red-head in generations, it's a curse." Sirius was still laughing. "And Harry's already checking out the ladies."
"I'm cursed?" Harry felt a fear rush through him.
"Sirius was jus' joken' Harry. Don' pay him no mind." Hagrid said. "We still got lots more ter' buy."
Their next stop was a bookstore called Flourish and Blotts. Once Sirius had stopped laughing he had offered to go pick up a trunk to put all of his things in after Harry had declined his offer to get him introduced to the red-haired girl. Harry got separated from Hagrid as the store got a little more crowded. He bumped into a dark skinned boy with regal looking features who was looking at a section of books that seemed to be mostly about curses. Harry picked up one called: Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue- Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian. It was a long title and a brief perusal showed it contained spells that while vicious were mostly childish at best.
"Are you going to Hogwarts as well?" the dark skinned boy asked.
Harry smiled. "Yes."
"How much of this do you suppose they'll teach us?" The dark skinned boy was eyeing a copy of Fight Fire with Fire: a Guide to Curses that Mean Business by Bada Smyth.
"Don't know," Harry said distractedly as he looked over the other titles.
"I hear that the Hogwarts curriculum has always been for the squeamish if you know what I mean." Harry nodded, not absolutely certain if he knew what the other boy was saying. "And I hear this year the Defense teacher is a ninny."
"Professor Querrell," Harry supplied. "I met him. He seemed a little squeamish."
The boy grinned at Harry like he'd just found a coconspirator. "Well I hear the Library is extensive, I guess we'll just have to study on our own if we want to be powerful."
"We'll see," Harry said.
"I guess we will," the boy laughed. "So what's your quidditch team?"
"Quidditch?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, what's your team?" the boy seemed to become suspicious of something.
Harry knew he was going to get in trouble for it, but he had to ask. "What's Quidditch?"
"Where have you been?" the boy seemed flabbergasted. "Wait, you parents…they're our kind right?"
"Asia. And I'm told that my parents were a witch and a wizard if that's what you mean." Something by the way the boy had asked about him bothered him.
"Told?" The dark skinned boy looked scandalized. "Haven't you met your own parents?"
"They died when I was young."
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think…" the other boy seemed to deflate. "Quidditch isn't that popular in Asia, but you should have at least heard about it. Were you raised by muggles or something?"
"Yes."
"But that's terrible." The other boy had to fight to keep his voice down
"I'm quite fond of my family," Harry's voice and gaze were very stern.
"Well, that's as it should be," the boy replied haughtily. "But you're missing so much. They shouldn't be able to put wizard kids with muggles."
"What if there aren't any wizard couples that want to adopt? Should they make wizard orphans grow up in an orphanage?"
The prissy boy had to stop to consider Harry's question. He didn't seem to be able to come to a conclusion and changed the subject. "So have you ever flown on a broom before?"
"You really use a broom to fly?"
"Well you can't play quidditch on a carpet; you wouldn't be able to maneuver well enough. Besides flying carpets are illegal in most of Europe."
Harry decided that this was the perfect opportunity to discreetly see how some of his abilities would be perceived since this boy would just shrug the question off as Harry's lack of knowledge of the magical world. "Why do you need something to fly on?"
"Are you kidding? That's exactly what I was talking about. Magicking yourself is dangerous. One mistake and it could all be over, that's why the Ministry regulates it. This is why they should make muggle-borns go to different schools they don't know our ways and they don't know the first things about magic."
It seemed to Harry that he had made the right decision to hide his abilities. But the boy's reaction made Harry question his knowledge of magic. It must be very different from Ki. There were dangers to harnessing your Ki, but nothing like how dangerous this boy acted like using magic on yourself was. Harry wondered how well his books would explain the nature of magic. It seemed to be fundamentally different than Ki. But more disturbingly in his excitement to learn magic it never occurred to Harry that he might be starting school well behind everyone else because he'd never encountered magic before, but now he thought that he just might be.
When Harry looked up from his musings he saw the dark skinned boy he was talking to walking away next to an exotic looking woman that Harry assumed was the boy's mother. He also saw that Sirius and Hagrid were both walking toward him.
Hagrid saw the book Harry was holding and made him put it back on the shelf. Harry didn't complain, his interest in books had changed since he'd picked that one up. Neither of them saw the smirk on Sirius' face.
Harry kept an eye out for any books that looked like they might answer his questions about what magic fundamentally was and how it was similar to what he knew. Perhaps it was because he had been caught with a book on curses, but Hagrid did his best to make sure Harry stuck to just what was on his list. By the time he had his assigned books and was approaching the sales counter he hadn't found anything.
He asked the pimply faced teenager running an old fashioned looking cash register which of the store's books had the best explanation of the nature of magic. The cashier's eyes lit up as he launched into a rapid description of several books and how they described several different magical theories and the quality of their arithmetic proofs. Harry interrupted the teenager while he was describing the ongoing argument between Alberta Einstein, who was a muggle-born witch descendant of Albert Einstein, and another witch educated at Cambridge (after graduating from Hogwarts) about whether or not the muggle search for the unified field theory was applicable to magic.
"I'm looking for something for a beginner," Harry said
"Beginner?" Harry thought he detected a hint of disdain in the cashier's voice.
"Well your list for Hogwarts includes: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk and Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling."
"How well do they explain what magic is and how to harnessed and control it?"
"If they're the books tha' the professors a' Hogwarts chose, then ya can bet tha' they're the best," Hagrid chimed in.
"If they're not enough, then you can order something off of here." Harry was sure the cashier was being snide this time as he slid what looked like some kind of order-form across the counter toward him. They looked like a bunch of beginner's guides to Harry, but Sirius found something about them offensive.
"Harry Potter will not be needing any of those," Sirius snarled.
The cashier acted like he'd been scalded by the cold fury Sirius' voice. He slipped the sheet under the counter so fast he accidentally knocked over Harry's books. He tried to gather them up, but he spent so much time goggling at Harry that as soon as he got one book on top of another he'd accidentally knock it off again. After a few seconds of this Sirius got annoyed and snapped out his wand and the books instantly stacked themselves.
Sirius was still muttering when they got out of the store. "If this wasn't the best book store on the alley, I'd never come here again." He turned to Harry. "You're not a squib Harry, you don't need any of those books!" Harry was a little taken back by the anger in Sirius' voice.
"The son of Lilly and James Potter a squib? That's a scandal!" Hagrid's voice boomed.
"What's a squib and what was wrong with those books?" Harry asked timidly.
Pained looks passed over both men's faces. "A squib Harry, is someone with magical parents that can't do magic," Hagrid said gently. "It's very rare, but it does happen."
"Then I could be…?" Harry was a little scared. He'd only really known about magic for a day, but to lose it all just after learning of what he might be able to do seemed a little cruel.
"No, Harry." Sirius was adamant. "I've seen you do incredibly powerful magic when you were a baby. I saw you summon your mum from across the room once, that's powerful magic for a baby to be doing."
"You're sure?" Harry asked.
"Positive," Sirius smiled when Harry looked relieved. "So why were you so dead set on getting an extra book about magic?"
Harry told the two men about the boy he'd talked to in the store and about his concerns about being behind everyone else.
"If tha' boy knew who yeh were, he'd not'a called yeh a squib—he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk." Hagrid said excitedly.
"He didn't, it's just that I don't know very much about magic, because I didn't grow up around it."
"Well don't you worry, he was just trying to sound important, growing up around magic didn't help out me or your dad that much." Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder as he spoke. "It was just as hard for us as it was for the muggle-born kids. And you mum was the best witch in our year and she hadn't even heard of real magic or Hogwarts until she got her letter."
"Sirius is right," Hagred agreed. "Everyone starts at the beginnin' a' Hogwarts. An' some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line O' Muggles – yer mum especially!"
It's hard to argue with someone when they invoke your own mother as an example, especially when you've never met her. But it's also daunting to have to live up to a parent you've never met. Harry tried to put this out of his mind. Sirius helped a lot with a simple display of magic.
He pulled something the size of a matchbox and with a few muttered words and a wave of his wand it expanded to reveal itself to be a large steamer trunk. They put Harry's books in side and Sirius levitated it behind them. This got them a few stares, but Harry thought this might have been what Sirius had wanted in the first place.
They bought a large sheaf of similar heavy parchment to what his Hogwarts letter had come on as well several old fashioned feathered quills. The wizarding world seemed oblivious to modern stationary and pens. Then they moved to a foul smelling apothecary. Harry had expected there to be fresh, dried and ground leaves and petals to plants he'd seen as well as ones he'd never heard of before, but he hadn't expected all the other strange things that it seemed went into potions. There were body parts of bugs as well as complete ones. And the strangest body parts: cat's and rabbit's paws, snake skins, ground hydra fang, almost any dragon part you could think of and kneasel whiskers; whatever that was. Hagrid asked the shopkeeper to get Harry a kit of common potion ingredients.
From there moved on to buy his remaining supplies, a fancy set of brass scales, a precision telescope kit and finally a cauldron from a shop full to the brim of all different types and sizes of cauldrons. While they were there Sirius had pointed out the window claiming that he'd seen the red-haired girl. Harry had turned around in an instant, bumping into someone and causing them to fall into a stack of cauldrons. With several loud crashes every cauldron in the shop was on the floor. There were several people that peeked into the shop to see what the commotion was about, but none of them had red hair and Harry didn't feel that strange energy very powerfully. Harry wanted to stay and watch the owner magic all the cauldrons back in place, but after hurriedly paying for the standard size #2 pewter cauldron Sirius and Hagrid dragged him out of the store as fast as the could.
They had ran, dragging Harry almost to the entire other side of the alley by the time thy stopped to catch their breath and check Harry's list of school supplies. "Just yer wand left," Hagrid supplied. "Oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."
"It's not my birthday yet." Harry was a little embarrassed.
"Yeah, but I polly' won' be able to see yeh again till yeh come ter Hogwarts. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at…"
"Not a rat!" Sirius interrupted.
"No, not a rat," Hagrid agreed, "an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze."
Sirius snickered at this.
"What's so funny?" Harry asked. "Lots of people are allergic to cats."
"It's just that Hagrid here, has always loved animals; the bigger and more dangerous the better. I reckon if it weren't illegal he'd want his very own dragon."
"Crikey, I'd like a dragon," Hagrid muttered.
Sirius laughed harder. "See! And to think that something as small and harmless as a kitten could bring Hagrid down. That's just funny!"
Harry smiled. It was a little funny.
"I know," Hagrid piped in. "I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls; they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."
So with that they trekked most of the way back across the Diagon Alley to Eeylops Owl Emporium. On the way Sirius presented Harry with his gift. It was an assortment of magical joke products from a place called Zonko's. Sirius chuckled sinisterly as Harry looked though the various items. He waited until Hagrid wasn't paying attention to wink and tell Harry to make him proud.
When they arrived at their destination, the shop was dark and filled with the deep throaty sounds of the owls' voices and the rustling of feathers. The smell wasn't particularly pleasant either. After looking through the store twice, Harry was the happy owner of the most beautiful white owl he'd ever seen. He couldn't thank Hagrid enough.
The last thing they had on the list was the most exciting: a wand. For that there was only one place to go according to Hagrid and Sirius. That was Olivander's, the best maker of wands in all of Britain. The shop itself was unassuming, if not shabby. Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. the sign read in gold letters that were peeling off. And in the window a single wand rested on a faded pillow that Harry assumed had once been imperial purple.
The inside of the shop looked plain; a long counter faced the door with shelves filled with hundreds if not thousands of narrow boxes on shelves. But to Harry it crackled with a strange energy, not unlike what he felt from the red-haired family they'd encountered. It was if the dust that covered the floor and swirled in the air had absorbed the magic of the place.
Harry sensed someone approach from the back of the shop before he heard a quiet voice, "Good Afternoon."
Harry heard a loud squeaking sound as the chair in the corner was vacated along with the scuffling sounds of Hagrid and Sirius' feet. The old leathery-faced man who now stood in front of them had managed to surprise them. "Hello," Harry said, as he looked the old man over carefully. His silver hair was wispy and his pail eyes almost looked blind, but something in his face led Harry to believe that the old man saw things that most others could not.
"Ah yes," the man said. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." Harry wondered how some people could recognize him instantly, while others couldn't tell him from any other normal school boy. "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."
The older man stepped closer to Harry. "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—it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."
The older man that Harry assumed was Mr. Olivander stepped so close that Harry had to stop himself from throwing him or stepping back. But Mr. Olivander was staring at something so intently he didn't dare move lest it interfere with something important.
"And that's where..." the old man whispered as he touched the spot on Harry's forehead where Harry's lightning bolt shaped scar resided. "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..." Olivander shook his head and seemed to notice Harry's companions for the first time.
"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"
"It was, sir, yes," Hagrid replied.
"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" Mr. Ollivander was suddenly stern.
"Er—yes, they did, yes," Hagrid sounded guilty. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.
"But you don"t use them?" Mr. Ollivander said sharply.
"Oh, no, sir," Hagrid said quickly. Harry noticed he gripped the pink umbrella that he'd used to open the arch to the alley very protectively.
Mr. Olivander gave Hagrid a firm and possibly somewhat disbelieving stare before he turned to Sirius. "And young Sirius Black—Ebony eight and a half inches, very rigid, well suited for dueling. I presume you're taking good care of it?"
Sirius drew his wand out of his jacket sleeve with a flourish and smiled. "And she's taken good care of me."
Mr. Olivander looked over the wand taking careful note of each ding, divot and groove that time had worn into it. "I see that in the past you used to do quite a bit of dueling with it. If you find yourself planning on doing so again, I find that Mr. Widowmaker makes the most spell resistant polish."
"Well now, Mr. Potter, which is your wand arm?" Olivander turned back to Harry just as suddenly as he'd switched to his interrogation of the other two. He pulled a measuring tape out of a pocket.
"I'm right handed…" Harry began what he intended to be a question about which hand should he use for his wand while fighting, but Mr. Olivander interrupted him.
"Hold out your arm. That's it." The elderly man then took several different measurements of his arm and right side in general. He even measured around his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. 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 with another wizard's wand."
Mr. Ollivander got up and walked away, but Harry noticed that the tape kept measuring him on its own. It took some interesting measurements while the shop owner was looking over some of the narrow boxes, including between his nostrils and the length of his eyebrows.
"That will do," Olivander said, and the tape fell limp to the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one, Beachwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Harry looked at the wand, he hefted it to feel its weight then spun it with his fingers easily before waving it in a way that he hoped was majestic. Mr. Ollivander didn't even let him finish before he yanked it out of his hand mid-wave. "No! That won't do at all, though I think I'll have to see your wand work once you've learned a bit."
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try…"
That one was taken out of Harry's hand just as quickly, as was the next one: ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Harry didn't know what Mr. Ollivander was looking for, as he couldn't see the difference. Maybe something was supposed to happen. But as the pile of discarded wands grew higher nothing did. Except the grin on Mr. Ollivander's face grew wider. "Tricky customer eh," the old man smirked. "Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere…I wonder, now…yes, why not…unusual combination…holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."
Harry knew there was something different about this wand as soon as he touched it. He felt its power in his hand and as he gripped it he felt a power inside himself that before today he wouldn't have recognized as his own. He held it high above his head and solemnly swung it down in an arc. Red and gold sparks flew out its end like some kind of firework. Hagrid and Sirius cheered.
"Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..." Mr. Ollivander started to mutter. He placed the wand back in its box and wrapped it, still muttering about how curious it was.
"Excuse me sir," Harry was a little hesitant to interrupt the elderly man's muttering. "But what is so curious?"
Mr. Ollivander looked up and the intent stare he gave Harry brooked no nonsense. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather—just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar."
Harry blinked.
"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches, yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember.… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things—terrible yes, but great."
Harry paid the seven galleons for his wand and left the store in silence, not knowing what to say after Mr. Ollivander's declaration. No one else seemed to know what to say either, even Sirius, who obviously wanted to say something as soon as the door shut behind them.
"Now Harry don't you worry too much about all that…Some times magic seems to have a will of its own…Almost like it's alive. Most likely the phoenix that gave that feather would have wanted to protect you from what the other feather was used for."
"Or maybe it wants me to right the wrongs that have been done with its other feather," Harry replied.
"Oh, don' yeh go worryin' about tha'," Hagrid said before Sirius could reply.
"Hagrid's right," Sirius interjected, concern written on his face. "You don't need to be worrying about chasing after You-Know-Who. Leave that to us. You just worry about having fun at school. Just try and keep your grades up too."
"Ok," Harry began, but Sirius and Hagrid could tell that there was more. "It's just daunting. Everyone seems to expect so much from me and I don't know the first thing about magic. And I'm not a hero. My brother and my dad are heroes, but not me. Everyone thinks so highly of me for something I can't even remember. How will I be able to keep from letting everyone down?"
Sirius waited for Harry to finish speaking before he knelt down so they were at eye level. "Harry," Sirius put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Like Hagrid said, everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts. And your teachers aren't going to expect you to know any more than anyone else. Being a celebrity isn't easy. Being different isn't easy. You will be singled out by some of your classmates. But if you ever need to talk to anyone about it, Hagrid's going to be right there. I'm sure he'll be happy to help you through it." Hagrid voiced a firm affirmative.
"If you want to talk to me about it all you have to do is owl. You might not believe this, but I'm a little famous myself. I'll understand what you're going through. But in the end the people who love you are going to love you for what's right here." Sirius thumped Harry's chest. "Everyone else who can't see the real Harry Potter through their image of the boy who lived or who expect more from you than you have to give…well don't you worry about them. In the end you only need to worry about living up to your standards, nobody else's."
"Thanks," Harry said emotionally. He wasn't sure why he felt so much better. Sirius hadn't said people weren't going to expect any less of him. But that didn't seem to be so important from his perspective anymore. And he really appreciated the support that was being offered.
Sirius gave him a hug and stood back up. Then after double-checking Harry's list they confirmed that they had everything Harry would need. Sirius asked why they weren't getting a broom, but Hagrid showed him where the list stated that first years aren't allowed brooms. Sirius didn't seem to understand why that should stop anyone, but gave in. The question reminded Harry to ask about quidditch, so they ended up spending over a half hour in Quality Quidditch Supplies where Sirius tried to describe the world's greatest sport in detail and going over the handling of the different model of brooms on the market. It wasn't Martial Arts, but Sirius' enthusiasm was contagious.
Hagrid finally pulled them out and led them back through Muggle London to the tube station they'd arrived in. They discussed the magical world in hushed, but excited tones the whole way. When they finally got back to where they'd left the flying carpet it wasn't there.
Sirius seemed disappointed to miss seeing a real flying carpet as he'd heard of them, but never actually seen one. Hagrid seemed to be becoming distraught that he'd failed Dumbledore, because he couldn't get Harry back home.
"Don't worry," Harry told Hagrid. "I'm sure Mr. Popo just called his carpet back, because he knew that I would be able to get home on my own." Harry then casually reached out his hand and caught his trunk that now held all of his new possessions as it flew straight to his hand. He flung the trunk over his shoulder and placed first two fingers of his other hand on his forehead over his scar. "Thanks for everything. I'll see you again. Bye." Harry waved at them as his body flickered and disappeared.
End chapter 2
Out-Take:
"The son of Lilly and James Potter a squib? That's a scandal!" Hagrid's voice boomed. Harry didn't know what a squib was, but Hagrid's shouted denials were a little embarrassing. And it didn't go unnoticed by the other passer-bys in the alley.
The family of red-heads they'd seen during Harry's fitting chose that moment to walk by. And apparently they'd heard, because the youngest one of them, the girl stomped up to them. "Harry Potter is not a squib, and I'll hex anyone who says different!" She gave Harry, Sirius and Hagrid each their own threatening look, as if daring them to contradict her.
Sirius cracked first. "I didn't say he was a squib."
"Then who did?" the little girl demanded authoritatively.
Sirius couldn't help himself. "He did," Sirius pointed at Harry.
No sooner than he'd done this than the little girl reached back into her mother's pocket and pointed her mother's wand at Harry. Sirius was so shocked he didn't hear the incantation. There was a loud bang and a pail green light flew out of the end of the wand and hit Harry in the face. The girl stormed off, wand in hand without even bothering to see the results of her handiwork.
"Ginerva Molly Weasley! You come back here this instant!" The matronly woman yelled and began to stalk after her daughter.
The lanky boy just looked at Harry for a moment and then just shook his head as if this was the obvious fate of anyone that would even hint that Harry Potter might be a squib, and followed after his mother and sister.
The two identical older boys stayed and tried not to laugh too hard. Sirius couldn't blame them. When the curse had hit Harry, large green slimy things had climbed out of his nose and were now flying with the aid of bat-like wings and clawing at the oblivious boy's face almost unnoticed. Sirius couldn't take it. He laughed so hard he couldn't stand, so he slid down the wall behind him until he was sitting on the ground almost rolling with laughter.
"Sorry about our sister mate," one of the twins said. "She's a little mad about Harry Potter," the other continued. "Fancies him we think," they both said in unison.
Sirius couldn't stop laughing. "Then I wonder what she'll do when she finds out that she just cursed him in the face!"
As I mentioned in my initial disclaimer, I quoted the book several times here, because I wanted to keep the feel of some of the original dialog. I anticipate this will happen some more, but hopefully not as often as in this chapter.