The three of them got into the boat that had obviously brought the Dursleys and Harry to the island and Hagrid started rowing them back to shore.
"Couldn't you just fly us?" Harry asked Danny.
"I don't have enough energy to take two people all the way back to the shore. It'll drain me, and we'd probably fall and land in the ocean."
"Ugh, we'll never get to shore at this rate."
"I can speed things up with magic, just don't tell anyone at school about it," Hagrid warned. They assured him that they would keep it a secret, then Hagrid tapped the boat with his pink umbrella and it sped off towards the shore. After they arrived, the three of them took the train from the coastal town into London. Once their train reached Charing Cross Station, they traveled on foot through the streets of London until they reached a shabby pub called the Leaky Cauldron.
"Uh, Hagrid? What are we doing here?" Danny asked.
"This is where we'll get your school supplies." They entered the pub and made their way over to the back door. Before they could make it, though, Hagrid was approached by a toothless old wizard, who apparently was the bartender.
"The usual, Hagrid?" he asked.
"No thanks, Tom," Hagrid replied. "I'm here on official Hogwarts business. Got to take Harry and Danny here to get their supplies." Tom looked down and noticed the two boys standing off to Hagrid's left. Danny thought he saw the man's eyes flick upward to Harry's forehead, but a second later decided that he'd imagined it.
"Bless my soul," he muttered. "Harry Potter, in my pub…what an honor." As soon as Harry's name was uttered aloud, every single person in the pub turned around to face him. They saw Harry and slowly approached him as though he was some sort of celebrity.
"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back," Tom said as he vigorously shook Harry's hand, tears in his eyes.
"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."
"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."
"Always wanted to shake your hand-I'm all of a flutter." Harry shook hands again and again-Doris Crockford kept coming back for more. After everyone had finished, two men made their way forward. One was pale and young, and moved very nervously; one of his eyes were twitching. The other was tall and austere; he had white hair that was slicked back in a ponytail and a white goatee.
"Why, professors Quirrell and Masters, I didn't see you there!" Hagrid exclaimed. "Harry, Danny, Professor Quirrell and Professor Masters are both teachers at Hogwarts."
"What sort of magic to you teach?" Harry asked them.
"We co-teach D-defense Against the D-dark Arts," Professor Quirrell stuttered. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, Potter?"
"Wait a moment," Professor Masters interjected, as he looked at Danny. "Is your father Jack Fenton?"
"Uh, yeah," Danny replied. "How did you know?"
"I can see the resemblance. You see, I was good friends with your father back when we went to the University of Wisconsin, Madison. Who is your mother?"
"My mom's name is Maddie." When Masters heard that, his eye twitched in a manner similar to Quirrell's.
"Did you say Maddie?" He slowly asked. Harry nodded. Masters took a deep breath and composed himself. "I knew her also when we were in college. I suppose your father married her just after graduation."
"That's right," Danny answered as he inwardly wondered what had happened between Professor Masters and his parents to make him act this way.
"You'll be g-getting all of your equipment, I suppose?" Quirrell asked as he regained control of the conversation. "I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought. However, the other witches and wizards in the pub wouldn't let Professors Quirrell and Masters keep Harry and Danny to themselves, so it took almost ten full minutes to get away from them all. It came as a relief to them when Hagrid's bulk and booming voice finally cleared a path that allowed them to exit the bar through the back door. Once they'd exited, Harry and Danny found themselves in a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a dumpster and a few weeds. Hagrid turned around and grinned down at Harry.
"Told ya you were famous, Harry."
"No you didn't." Hagrid looked confused for a second.
"Oh…I guess I forgot to tell you last night…you're a celebrity in the wizarding world. That's how everyone knew your name and why they all wanted to meet you."
"Oh, okay…is Professor Quirrell always that nervous?"
"Oh yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studying out of books, but then he took a year off to get some first-hand experience. From what I heard, he ran into some ghosts in the Black Forest and there was some trouble with a hag…never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject…have either of you two seen my umbrella around?" Danny eyed a pink handle sticking out of a pocket in Hagrid's cloak. He reached forward and pulled the umbrella out, and handed it to the giant of a man.
"Thanks, Danny…now, three up…two across…" he tapped the desired brick three times with the point of his umbrella, and the brick began to quiver. It wiggled around, then moved aside to reveal a small hole. The hole grew wider and wider, and a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned. The street was so long that the two boys couldn't even see the end of it.
"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Hagrid said, as he grinned at the two boys' amazement. The three of them stepped though the archway, which shrank back into a brick wall behind them. Danny and Harry looked around and their eyes settled on the first shop, which happened to sell cauldrons.
"Yeah, you'll be needing one," Hagrid told them as he followed their gaze, "but first we need to get your money."
Harry and Danny walked through the alley in amazement. Each of them wished that they could have spontaneously sprouted four more eyes so that the wouldn't have to turn their heads every which way in an attempt to look at everything at once, an attempt that merely gave the boys a mild case of whiplash. They passed an apothecary, a shop that apparently sold owls, a broomstick store…they notices a gaggle of boys around their age gawking at one of the brooms that was on display.
"Look," one said, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand…fastest broom ever…" there were shops selling robes, telescopes, strange silver instruments that were unrecognizable to either Danny or Harry, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, piles of spell books, quills and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon…and a bank.
"Gringotts," Hagrid said as they approached the final building, a white Romanesque structure that was twice as tall as all the other shops. It had bronze doors that were guarded by a squat figure wearing a scarlet and gold uniform. It was about a head shorter than the two boys. It had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard, and very long fingers and feet.
"That's a goblin," Hagrid whispered. The goblin bowed as the three walked inside. Hagrid, Danny, and Harry were now facing a second pair of doors, this time silver, that had the following words engraved on them:
Enter, stranger, but take heedOf 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.
"You'd have to be loony to try and rob Gringotts," Hagrid informed them as they passed through the silver doors, and a pair of goblins bowed them through. The three of them entered a large room that had marble walls and floor; the same material that made up the exterior of the building. There were hundreds of tall desks where goblin bankers sat and peered austerely down their long noses at the customers.
"Why, what were those words talking about?" Danny asked as Hagrid scanned the crowd for a free goblin.
"Even if you were to find something, you'd never make it back out. You'd starve to death wandering the underground corridors trying to find your way to an exit. Not to mention the booby traps protecting the high security vaults; I've heard that some of them even have dragons guarding them." Finally, Hagrid spotted a goblin who wasn't occupied and led the two boys over to him.
"Yes, how can I help you?" The creature asked in a nasal drawl.
"Several things," Hagrid began. "First off, Mr. Harry Potter would like to make a withdrawal."
"Ah, then does Mr. Potter have his key?" The goblin asked as he peered down at Harry.
"Got it right here, just a sec," Hagrid said as he dug around in his cloak. He pulled out several unusual objects, including some old dog biscuits, before finally extracting a small gold key. "Here it is," he crowed triumphantly as he held the key up.
"Very well," the goblin replied.
"Also, we need to make a stop at the Hogwarts trust fund, and there's a third thing…" Hagrid wore a grave facial expression as he handed a small letter to the teller.
"Professor Dumbledore asked me to deliver the you-know-what in vault seven hundred and thirteen," he said. The goblin read the letter and handed it back to Hagrid.
"Fine. I'll get someone to take you. Griphook!" he shouted. Griphook was yet another goblin. He led them through a pair of doors off to the side of the lobby and into a stone corridor lit by torches. They got into a small cart that just barely accommodated them all and it immediately started moving forward at a speed that just couldn't be safe considering the lack of safety harnesses. Danny noticed that the cart was apparently steering itself; Griphook wasn't driving.
"I can see what you meant before, Hagrid!" Harry shouted over the din of the cart. He tried memorizing the path they'd taken: left, right, right, left, middle fork, right left…but it was impossible. The occupants of the cart's eyes began stinging due to the cold air, but the two boys held them open for fear of missing anything. Danny thought he caught a burst of fire at the end of one corridor, but by the time he'd nudged Harry and pointed, they had already passed it by. They passed an underground lake where there were hundreds, if not thousands, of stalagmites and stalactites growing from the floor and the ceiling.
"What's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?" Harry asked Hagrid.
"I think Stalagmite has an 'm,' but don't ask me anything else, I think I'm gonna be sick!" He looked a little green, so Harry didn't press the issue.
"My sister would know something like that, she's a genius!" Danny shouted just as the cart began slowing down. Griphook took Harry's key and strode over to the door in the passage wall that they'd stopped directly next to. A multitude of green smoke came out of the opening as Griphook opened the door, and the two boys gasped when it cleared. The vault was loaded! There were thousands upon thousands of coins; mounds of fat gold ones, piles and piles of silver ones, huge mounds of the bronze knuts.
"All yours," Hagrid told him with a smile.
"That's ridiculous," Danny whispered hoarsely.
"Listen, both of you," Hagrid told them as he piled some coins into a bag, "seventeen silver Sickles to a gold Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle." He finished loading money into the bag and tossed it to Harry, who caught it with some difficulty.
Next they stopped at the Hogwarts Trust Fund, which was designed for students who came from muggle lineage and therefore couldn't procure wizarding money of their own. This vault was stacked to the ceiling with Galleons, Sickles and Knuts…Harry's small fortune paled in comparison to this vast wealth. After filling up a second money back and tossing it to Danny, Hagrid, Danny, and Harry piled into the cart.
"Now, vault seven hundred and thirteen, please, and can we go a bit more slowly?"
"One speed only," Griphook replied, and Hagrid groaned. The cart jumped into motion and the three human occupants were thrust backward in their seats. The cart ride took them even deeper into the massive underground lair and the air became colder and colder. Everyone present was shivering by the time they stopped at vault seven hundred and thirteen.
Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.
"Stand back," Griphook warned importantly. He ran a single long finger down the door and it melted away into nothingness.
"If anyone except for a Gringotts goblin tried that, a curse on the door would suck them through and trap them in there," Griphook told them.
"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Danny asked him worriedly.
"About once every ten years," the goblin replied with a nasty smirk.
There had to be something amazing inside such a tightly guarded vault.
"I'll bet it's a bunch of rare jewels," Danny whispered excitedly.
"Nah, it's probably something really powerful that has to be kept locked away," Harry whispered back.
"Five Knuts says its jewels."
"You're on."
As they walked inside the vault, the boys at first thought that it was empty. It was only after a few seconds that they noticed the grubby package wrapped in brown paper lying on the floor in the center of the vault. Danny grumbled something incoherent as he handed over the coins, and Hagrid placed the object deep into his cloak. The boys knew better than to ask what it was; if Hagrid was being so overprotective and secretive about it, they weren't about to be able to get him to spill.
One roller-coaster ride later the three of them stood blinking in the intense sunlight just outside of the bank. The two wizards-in-training didn't know where to go first now that they had bags chock-full of money, and twisted around eagerly as they took in all of the sights and tried to choose the best place to start shopping.
"Listen guys, is it okay with you if I stop by the Leaky Cauldron for a bit? I hate those Gringotts carts." He still looked kind of sick, so Harry and Danny acquiesced and were left to decide on their own where to go.
"I say we go to Madam Malkin's Robes," Danny said.
"Nah, I really want to get a magic wand," Harry replied.
"Fine, we'll to rocks, paper, scissors for it. One, two, three, GO!" They each thrust out a hand. Danny chose rock and Harry chose scissors, so they headed over to the robe store.
"Hogwarts, dearies?" Madam Malkin, a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve, asked as soon as they started to speak. "Don't worry, I've got plenty here. In fact, there's another young man being fitted up just now." She lead them to the back of the shop where a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Danny and Harry stood on stools next to him, had long robes slipped over their heads, and stood still as two more witches began pinning them to the right lengths.
"Hello," the new boy said. "Hogwarts too?" Both boys nodded. "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands. Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow.
Danny was reminded of a kid who'd been in his elementary school, a boy by the name of Dash Baxter. He spoke in the same bored voice, as though he was better than everyone else. He'd enjoyed insulting Danny, but luckily he was too skinny to do anything more than that. He always talked about learning how to play football, and that once he got big enough he'd show Danny and his friends the meaning of the word 'wail,' but as of yet he was physically powerless. The two also had the same haircut.
"Have either of you got your own brooms?" The new boy asked Harry and Danny, both of whom shook their heads.
"Play Quidditch at all?" Both shook their heads again, this time wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.
"I do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" Both shook their heads yet again, feeling more stupid by the minute.
"Well, nobody really knows until they get there, right? But I know I'll be in Slytherin, everyone in our family's been for generations. Imagine being in Hufflepuff; I'd leave, wouldn't you?"
"Mmm," Harry replied, both he and Danny wishing they could say something remotely interesting without looking like complete buffoons.
"I say, look at that man!" The boy suddenly exclaimed as he nodded towards the front window, where Hagrid was standing and grinning at the two boys and at the same time pointing at a tray with three large ice creams to show that he couldn't come in.
"That's Hagrid, he works at Hogwarts," Danny said, happy to be at least able to add a bit of useful information to the conversation.
"Oh, I've heard of him," the boy said. "He's kind of like a servant, isn't he?"
"He's the gamekeeper," Harry replied, feeling his liking for the boy growing less and less by the second.
"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage; lives in a hut in the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed." Harry noticed in the large mirror that stood in front of the three boys that Danny's eyes were glowing green; the new boy didn't seem to notice.
"I think he's brilliant," Harry said coldly.
"Do you?" the boy sneered. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"
"They're dead," Harry replied shortly.
"Oh, sorry," the other boy rejoined, though he certainly didn't sound it. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"
"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."
"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What about you?" He asked Danny. "Are your parents both magic?"
Before Danny could respond, Madam Malkin informed Harry and Danny that they were done and they hopped down from the footstools, not sorry to stop talking to the boy.
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," the drawling boy, well, drawled.
Both boys licked their ice-cream-cones silently
"What's up?" Hagrid asked.
"Nothing," Danny lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills, where they found a bottle of ink that could change color as you wrote. Just after they left, both boys turned to Hagrid.
"What's Quidditch?" Danny asked.
"Yeah, I've been meaning to ask you that, too," Harry said.
"Man, I keep forgetting about how in the dark both of you are!"
"Don't make me feel worse," Harry replied. He and Danny related to Hagrid their conversation with the pale boy in Madam Malkin's.
"-and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in!" Danny finished angrily.
"So? What does he know about it? Some of the best witches and wizards I've ever seen were the only ones with magic in a long line of Muggles…look at your mom, Harry!"
"So what is Quidditch?" Harry asked.
"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like…football in the Muggle world. Both American and European," he added to Danny. "Everyone follows Quidditch, played up in the air with broomsticks, and there's four balls. It's tough to explain all the rules."
"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?" Danny asked.
"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are just a bunch of duffers, but…"
"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," Harry said gloomily.
"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," Hagrid said darkly. "There hasn't been a single witch or wizard who turned evil who wasn't in Slytherin."
"Oh, I'd meant to ask you before," Harry said as he turned to Danny. "What was that trick with your eyes?"
"What, were they glowing green all of a sudden?"
"Yeah, that was brilliant. What was that?"
"Oh…people say they do that whenever I'm mad…I guess it's part of the ghost thing."
Next they went to a shop called Flourish and Blotts to buy schoolbooks. The shelves were packed to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of odd symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Danny picked up a cool diary that was all black with black pages. He decided to send it, along with a case of white ink and a quill he'd gotten at the parchment store, to Sam; before he left, she'd told him that she was starting to get into Goth culture and really liked the color black.
After buying books, they went to the cauldron store where Hagrid wouldn't let the boys buy two solid gold cauldrons ("For the last time, your list says Pewter!"), but they each got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and collapsible telescopes. They then visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls, bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. The two boys looked at silver unicorn hairs and black beetle eyes while Hagrid got some basic potion supplies from the man behind the counter.
"Just wands left…and I need to get you a birthday present, Harry."
"You really don't have to-"
"I know I don't have to; I want to. Here, I'll get you an animal. Toads went out of style years ago; you'd be the laughing stock of the school…I don't like cats, I think I'm allergic…tell you what, I'll get you an owl. They're really useful; they can carry your mail and everything.
Twenty minutes later, they left Eeyelops Owl Emporium with Harry carrying a large cage that held a snowy owl, fast asleep. He couldn't stop stammering his thanks and sounded much like Professor Quirrell.
"No problem," Hagrid said gruffly. "Just Ollivanders left now-only place for wands."
Hagrid led Danny and Harry to a narrow and shabby shop. Over the door, peeling gold letters read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wants since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.
A small bell tinkled as they opened the door. It was a tiny place, empty except for a small rocking chair that Hagrid sat on immediately to wait.
"Dang, I wanted the chair…" Danny muttered.
"You snooze, you lose," was the reply. The boys felt as though they'd entered a very strict library. They looked at narrow boxes piled right up to the ceiling. Both of the backs of their necks prickled; the very dust and silence in the room seemed to contain some secret magic, just waiting to be tapped into.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry and Danny jumped. Hagrid must have jumped also, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. Danny snorted.
An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the semi-darkness of the shop.
"Hello," both boys replied awkwardly.
"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first want. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry, who wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were seriously creeping him out.
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany want. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transiguration. Well, I say your father favored it; it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.
"And that's where…" Mr. Ollivander touched a point on Harry's forehead that out of Danny's range of sight with a long, white finger.
"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands…Well, if I'd known what that want was going out into the world to do…" He shook his relief, and the movement of his head allowed him to see Danny for the first time.
"And if it isn't the Halfa of Hogwarts!" he exclaimed.
"The what-a?" Danny asked, confused.
"Half a boy, half a ghost. The Halfa," Mr. Ollivander explained. "Your parents are both muggles, so I can't say I've sold them magic wands. However, there's always a first in every family, and in this case that's you."
"Uh…thanks?" Danny replied, unsure whether or not he was being complimented. He wasn't sure how this guy knew that he was half ghost, and frankly he didn't want to find out. Mr. Ollivander was giving him the creeps.
"Anytime, Mr. Fenton. Now, which is your wand arm?"
"Well, I'm right handed."
"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Danny from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knew to armpit and around his head. As he measured, he began to lecture everyone present. "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Fenton. 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, of phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you'll never get such good results with another wizard's wand." As he was speaking, he went to the very bowels of his shop, leaving the tape measure to continue to work by itself.
"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Fenton. As I was saying, every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. However, I've had this particular model for some time, just waiting for a person with ghostly attributes to come by. It's core, instead of being taken from a living phoenix, dragon, or unicorn, actually comes from the heartstring of a ghost dragon, a princess by the name of Dora Mattingly. The wand itself is ten and a half inches and made of mahogany. Just take it and give it a wave." While Danny's head was spinning from the idea of ghost dragons, he took the wand from Mr. Ollivander. As he held it in his hands, he felt a sudden coldness in his fingers. There was a rushing noise and a gust of wind began blowing through the shop. Danny's hair was blown back, and everyone present watched in awe as it changed from black to white to black again.
Danny raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air, and a stream of green and blue sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on the walls. Hagrid and Mr. Ollivander cheered, and Harry patted him on the back.
"Now it's your turn, Mr. Potter," Mr. Ollivander said as Harry took Danny's place in front of the counter. "Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and wave it around a bit." Harry, confident that this wand would react the same way Danny's did, waved it around. Nothing happened. Mr. Ollivander snatched it away and immediately handed him a second one.
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy." Harry tried this one too, but to no avail.
"No, no-here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy." Harry tried. And tried. The pile of used wands grew more and more, along with Harry's embarrassment compared to Danny's instant success. Mr. Ollivander, on the other hand, seemed to get happier and happier with each failure.
"Tricky customer, eh? 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 took the wand, and this time felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. As he brought it down, it emitted red and gold sparks in a manner similar to Danny's wand. "Oh, bravo!" Mr. Ollivander cheered. "Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well…how curious…how very curious…" He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering "curious…curious…"
"What's curious?" Harry asked as Danny gave him a high-five.
"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 shifted nervously and turned a bit so that Danny was just able to see his forehead. For the first time, Danny noticed a scar shaped just like a lightning bolt that adorned the middle of his friend's forehead. He supposed that the scar was a souvenir of whatever accident killed his parents, and furthermore that a dark wizard was somehow responsible, but for the life of him he couldn't begin to grasp at the details.
"Yes, thirteen and ha half inches. Yew," Mr. Ollivander continued. "Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember…I think we can expect great things from you, Mr. Potter…after all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes, but great." Harry shivered, and just behind him Danny did the same. Their jeepers officially creeped enough for one day, they each paid seven Galleons for their wands and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.
"So now what?" Danny asked as he, Hagrid, and Harry walked down Diagon Alley with the setting sun casting long shadows ahead of them.
"We go back to the Leaky Cauldron where you are staying for the next three weeks, then you'll have to get to King's Cross to catch the train to Hogwarts." When they reached the pub, Tom led Danny and Harry each to their rooms and the two boys placed their supplies down. They returned downstairs to meet up with Hagrid. The three of them shared one last mug of butterbeer in the pub before Hagrid was supposed to return to Hogwarts when Harry suddenly piped up.
"Hagrid, what happened? Everyone's treating me like a celebrity, Professor Quirrell was saying something about me not needing Defense Against the Dark Arts, and you saw what happened at Ollivanders…what am I famous for, and what does it have to do with my scar?" Hagrid exhaled in a long sigh.
"It's a tough story for me to tell, both because your parents were great friends of mine and also because I don't understand all the details, though I'm not sure anyone does, even Dumbledore…anyway, it was on Halloween ten years ago. There was a dark wizard in power back then, a wizard so terrible people today are still afraid to speak his name."
"Could you write it down?" Danny suggested.
"Nah, can't spell it. Fine, I'll tell you, but just this once. It was…Lord Voldemort."
"Voldemort?" Harry asked loudly, and Hagrid quickly made shushing noises.
"Yeah, now don't say it again or make me repeat it. Like I said, most witches and wizards are scared to death just thinking about the name, let alone saying it…ten years ago, You-Know-Who came to your parents' house at Godric's Hollow. Your parents were part of the resistance movement, though why he decided to come in person is beyond me. To their merit, the only ones he killed himself were those he considered worthy of his presence, so he must have thought rather highly of them. He came in and your father…he tried to take him on while your mother protected you. Of course, nobody lived after he decided to kill them. He killed your father and advanced on your mother. She pleaded for mercy, that he would kill her but spare you. He killed her, then approached you. I'm not sure why he wanted you dead, maybe because you were special to him somehow, maybe because he just liked killing by then. Anyway, he advanced on you and tried to use the killing curse on you. It backfired, and You-Know-Who was destroyed. Blown away. The curse blew up the house, and I was the one who found you in the wreckage with a lightning-bolt scar cutting open your forehead."
"My scar…?" Harry murmured.
"You only get that kind of scar when an evil curse touches you. The killing curse backfired, but left you with that."
"And Vol-You-Know-Who?"
"Nobody knows," Hagrid replied in an ominous tone. Harry and Danny shot each other nervous looks.
"Now, here are your tickets," Hagrid said as he handed each of them train tickets. "First of September, King's Cross station, its all there." He stood up and made his way over to the door that would lead back to Muggle London. The two boys waved goodbye, then he left.
"Well, I guess there's no point in staying up much later, right?" Danny asked Harry.
"Well, there is one thing…" Harry replied with a devious smirk.
"What's that?"
"Can I go flying? It sounds brilliant!" Danny smiled and checked around the bar to make sure nobody was looking. He ducked under the table and transformed, then grabbed Harry by the arm. He made the two of them invisible and intangible and shot up through the roof of the pub. The two of them soared over London for a good hour or so, then returned, significantly more windswept. Exhausted, the two of them said goodnight, went into their separate rooms, and fell asleep almost immediately.