A/N: Hello all. I know, I know. I'm terrible, I'm late (again), you hate me, but read and it will all wash away. Thanks everyone who voted on my poll and contributed to my thought process for the future plot. You're all awesome.
And to whoever reviewed anonymously under the name 'Verito' I would love to answer your questions, but ran into the whole anonymous problem. Correction to my earlier A/N: I will reply to SIGNED reviews who ask questions. Good? Great!
Special thanks to my friend DestinyCrusader who nagged me until I discovered the inspiration to finish this chapter. You're amazing. Some rather important news at the bottom so be nice and read it when you get there. Also, I have no beta so sorry for any grammar/ spelling/ punctuation mistakes you may find. Onward with the story!
Disclaimer: I am not the owner of Harry Potter in this universe. I my universe sure, but unless you look outside and see my Legions of Terror patrolling the streets, this is not that universe. Sad, I know. I adopted the idea for this story from PlotBunny2010.
Speech= "blah"
Thoughts= blah
Written= {blah}
Parseltongue= :blah:
A/N= blah
Chapter 5: Ollivanders
Hagrid grinned at Harry's amazement. They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway sink instantly back into a solid wall.
The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons – All Sizes – Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver – Self-Stirring – Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.
"Yeah, you'll be needin' one o' those," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."
Harry wished they had more time or that Hagrid would slow down a tad. His mind was straining under the pressure to absorb everything at once. He glanced in all directions as they walked taking in his surroundings: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad…"
A soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium – Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with 9 in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand – fastest ever –"
There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry's never seen before and had an urge to examine them more closely, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon…
"Gringotts," said Hagrid.
They had reached a gleaming white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished brown doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was –
"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Harry noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked in, and Harry nodded back politely. Hagrid did not. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:
Enter, stranger, but take head
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.
"Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.
A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of those. Hagrid made for the counter with Harry trailing behind him.
"We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe," said Hagrid to a free goblin.
"You have his key, sir?"
"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals.
"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.
The goblin looked at it closely.
"That seems to be in order."
"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."
Harry felt Tom almost perk up in attention. He shook his head slightly, keeping his gaze on the goblin that was now weighing golden blocks, and listened closer to the conversation going on near him.
The goblin read the letter carefully.
"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"
Griphook turned out to be yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall. Harry glanced back to see the goblin brushing crumbs off his ledger with a look of extreme distaste on his features. He looked up, saw Harry watching, gave a small almost smile and raised a one long spindly finger to his lips to indicate quiet. Harry blinked and nodded. The goblin turned away as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.
Harry wrote quickly, {What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?}
"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me, see? More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."
Griphook held the door open for them. Harry, who had expected more marble, was surprised, but hid it quickly. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in – Hagrid with some difficulty – and were off.
At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it became impossible. The rattling seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.
Harry's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Once he could have sworn he saw a burst of fire and a flash of diamond scales at the end of a passage but before he could twist around to glimpse the dragon they were plunged even deeper. They swept past an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.
Harry glanced back at Hagrid who was looking quite green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.
"Ach, I think I'm gonna be sick."
Pathetic, Tom remarked.
Harry sighed at the lack of understanding he was forced to deal with but upon further examination of the giant, he realized that it was indeed an amusing picture
Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry's mouth fell open in shock. Inside were mounds of gold coins, columns of silver and heaps of little bronze Knuts.
"All yours," smiled Hagrid.
All Harry's – it was an incredible sight. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than blinking. How often had they complained, while he was in the same room no less, about how much Harry cost them to keep? And all this time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London.
Hagrid helped Harry pile some of it into a bag.
"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms; we'll keep the rest safe fer yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go a little more slowly?"
"One speed only," said Griphook.
They were going deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder as they hurtled down round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to see a blur of water at the dark bottom before Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck.
Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole. That was the first thing Harry noticed, aside from that it looked the exact same as the vaults to the left and right.
"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers, and it simply melted away.
"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped there," said Griphook.
{How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?}
"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.
Watch closely, he was instructed by an impatient Tom.
Yeah, yeah.
Harry leaned forward to try to see what all the fuss was about, but thought at first that it was a hoax, until he noticed a grubby, little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry wanted to ask Hagrid what it was but knew he wouldn't be getting any answers, so he turned to Tom.
It was a small bundle. Was that what you were looking for?
Yes it was. They are taking it to Hogwarts to keep it safe. Fools.
Why are they being foolish?
"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't move too much on the way back, it's best if I keep meself still," said Hagrid.
Come on Tom, give me some answers.
Don't be impatient. Give it some time, and you'll find out on your own.
Why would I want to do that if you could just tell me?
There was a moment of silence.
It's more fun my way.
You're being childish.
Shut up.
Make me.
One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Harry was considering how much money he'd have left over after buying his school supplies as Tom had told him, more like ordered, that he had to buy some extra things. The greedy git. He knew that he was probably holding more money than he'd ever had in his whole life – more money than even Dudley had ever had.
"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, trying not to feel nervous.
Disgusting. Tom remarked.
What now?
If I had someone in my employ who wandered off to drink while on guard duty, they would be extensively tortured and then dismissed from service.
Harry blinked, not sure if he was kidding. Don't you think that's just a mite harsh?
No.
….What do you mean guard duty?
He was supposed to be guarding you, if you missed that touching little scene in that revolting pub, you're a high priority target.
Why?
I will not discuss this. The woman in front of you wants your attention.
We will talk about this later.
Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.
"Hogwarts, dear?" she asked. "Got the lot here – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."
In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length,
"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"
Harry nodded.
"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and smuggle it in somehow."
Harry was reminded of a slightly more friendly, less fat version of Dudley.
"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.
Harry shook his head.
"Play Quidditch at all?"
Harry shook his head, and wondered offhand how long it would take the boy to notice he couldn't talk. By the way he was going on, it would be quite a while, Harry decided.
What's Quidditch?
A boring pastime designed to dull your mind and leave you vulnerable to the sway of the mass crowds.
Right. Forgot who I'm asking. The King of No Fun. Never mind, I'll ask someone else.
"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?"
Harry shook his head again, and decided he liked the boy; he was irritating but still nice. Asking simple yes or no questions, that he could work with.
"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"
Harry shrugged, wondering what Hufflepuff and Slytherin were.
"Do you even speak at all?" the boy joked.
Harry shook his head.
"Oh, sorry."
Harry shrugged again. It's okay.
Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry hopped down from the footstool.
"I'll see you at Hogwarts, then," said the drawling boy, cheerfully, waving goodbye, then getting chastened for moving.
Harry waved back then headed for the front doors, seeing Hagrid standing there with two large ice creams and grinning at him.
Harry thought about some of the things the boy in Madam Malkin's had said as he ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought him, chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts.
They stopped to buy parchment and quills, and Harry like the bottle of ink that he found that changed color as you wrote. When they left the shop he wrote:
{Hagrid, what's Quidditch?}
"Blimey Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know – not knowin' about Quidditch!"
Harry's eyes narrowed. It wasn't a very pleasant feeling to have ignorance rubbed in your face at every turn.
{So, what is it?}
"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like – like football in the Muggle world – everyone follows Quidditch – played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls – sorta hard to explain the rules."
Helpful.
{And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?}
"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but…yeh know."
{I bet I'll end up in Hufflepuff.} Harry wrote gloomily.
"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."
{Who?}
"Ah, never mind. It was years an' years ago."
They bought Harry's school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked 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 peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Even Dudley, who never read under any circumstances, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these.
Harry quietly slipped several of the postage stamp books into his bag when Hagrid wasn't looking on the instructions of Tom. He had been directed to one with a soft green cover with words so small they were barely legible, and four more with purple, red, black, blue, and grey covers, respectively. He thought he saw something about Curses though with his eyesight, he couldn't be sure.
Next they bought a nicely sized pewter cauldron, a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they 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. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potions ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes at five Knuts a scoop.
Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry's list again.
"Just yer wand left – oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."
Harry felt himself go red. No one ever really cared about his birthday.
{You don't have to –}
"I know I don't have to." Hagrid interrupted. "Tell yeh what; I'll get yer an animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at. Come on, yeh can pick what yeh want." Hagrid said, as he dragged Harry into the Magical Menagerie.
"Go on, pick whatever yeh like."
Harry looked around at the cages stacked on top of one another. He inched closer to one of the ones on the bottom, and then leaped back when something crashed against the cage door. Resolving to stay far away from whatever that was, he walked over to the other end of the store, where some muttering was drifting toward him.
It died down when he got closer, then sprang up again.
:Another one comesss:
:Here to choose usss:
:Let'sss bite it:
:Kill it:
:Kill it:
:Kill:
:Kill:
:Kill:
Hello? Harry tried, a bit creeped out.
:Hear'sss uss it doesss:
:Can't:
:Human'sss can't listen:
:Listen to usss:
:Just kill it:
The chants to kill started up again.
:Quiet: this one was softer than the others but somehow felt deeper, older.
The other voices fell away one by one.
:Who speaksss?:
Ah, I do, said Harry, amazed that they could hear him like Tom could. Where are you?
:In front of you mortal wizard:
Harry glanced down at the snake filled cages and shook his head. The snakes?
:Not just sssnake: it protested :King of the Cobras, Sanajeh Indicus:
Um, alright. Why can you hear me?
:We hear what is ssspoken in a way like to usss, not the vile tongue the otherss use:
Others?
:Wizardsss: said one.
:Witchesss: another chimed in.
:Mortalsss: said a third.
:Humans: the voice concluded. :There hasss not been a Speaker in many yearsss:
:Why are you here Speaker?:
:Why?:
:Why?:
:Do you require ssservice?:
:We can kill for you:
:Ssslowly:
:Painfully:
:Quickly:
:We are invisssible:
:We are eternal:
:We will fight, if you asssk it:
No. I don't need you to kill for me!
:Then what do you need?:
:Why are you here?: was asked by many at the same time.
Harry resisted the impulse to clap his hands over his ears. How did normal people stand it every day, having all those people talking to them at the same time. It was confusing.
Who wants to leave this place? he tried to ask.
:Why?:
:Why does the Speaker asssk this?:
I'm supposed to choose someone here to take with me. So, who wants to go?
:Me, me:
:I want to go with the Speaker:
:You be quiet:
:I will go, and ssslay the enemiesss of the Speaker:
:No, I want to go:
:Sssilence: it came from the ancient voice again. :I will go and protect the Speaker and kill hisss enemiesss:
There were no objections.
Okay then, Harry coughed. Which one are you?
:I am Sanajeh:
I meant which holder?
:Next to your right hand:
Harry bent down to glance in the cage nearest to his hand. Red eyes stared back at him. In the cage was a pure white cobra, coiled so you couldn't tell how large it was. It's ruby eyes seemed to gleam as they stared into his eyes.
Sanajeh?
:Yesss:
Alright. Harry reached toward the door to unlock it.
"No, kid don't!" the shop keeper ran toward him, with fear on his face. "It'll kill you, don't let it out!"
Too late, though. The white snake was through the partially open door in a flash and up Harry's arm. A second later and it was coiled peacefully around his shoulders.
Harry tentatively stroked the scales, and relaxed when he felt his companion do so as well.
He reached for his parchment.
{I'll take this one please.}
"Wha-? Bu-? That should be –" the keeper stuttered.
Hagrid too was looking at funny.
{What? He's very nice.}
:Don't tell them that. I would gladly bite them:
Harry looked down at Sanajeh, and raised an eyebrow. No biting, please.
{I'll take him.} he repeated.
"If yer sure, Harry" said Hagrid as he paid for the cobra, still staying a distance away from the rather intimidating snake.
I'm sure.
Hey Tom! he called.
:Who isss thisss Tom?:
He's in my head from time to time. Don't mind him.
What do you want? came the irritated reply.
Can all wizards talk to snakes?
There was a long pause.
No. Why?
Because a whole bunch of them started talking to me.
You are completely sure?
Pretty sure.
:Do not insssult my massster, the Speaker:
Harry's grasp on what Tom was feeling was shaky but he could have sworn that he was surprised, shocked even.
That was Sanajeh, my snake.
I must…think on this.
What? Wait!
Tom was gone again.
Great, fat lot of help he turned out to be.
:Don't worry massster, I will eat all of your enemiesss:
Yeah, thanks Sanajeh, but let's hold off on the killing and eating for now, okay?
:If massster wishesss:
Yes, I do.
:Then it sshall be done:
Thanks.
They walked out of the Magical Menagerie a few seconds later. Harry blinked several times in the bright light and looked down at Sanajeh, who was hissing.
Would you like to wait it the basket?
The baffled owner had given them a large wicker basket with a cover and handle to carry the snake.
Sanajeh didn't reply only slithering down into the pseudo darkness without protest.
{Thanks, Hagrid.}
"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect yeh've had a lotta presents from the Dursleys. Jus' want ter be sure that's what yeh really want."
Harry nodded.
"Just Ollivanders left now – only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."
Harry shrugged, he wasn't sure about this. A magic wand just sounded so improbable.
The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.
A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he considered a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and set the basket very gently on the floor. He looked at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling . For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.
An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.
Harry nodded in an attempt to be polite, but he felt it was just awkward.
"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.
"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."
Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.
"And that's where…"
Mr. Ollivander touched the lightening scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.
"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands…well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"
What? I thought I got it in a car crash, but Hagrid said they weren't in a car crash. So someone gave me this scar? Did they kill my parents? I've got to get Hagrid to explain what happened.
He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid.
"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again…Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"
"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.
"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.
"Er – yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet, while Harry watched with interest. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.
"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.
"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. Harry noted that he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.
"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now – Mr. Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"
Harry assumed he meant the dominant arm, and raised his right hand.
"Hold out you arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, 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."
Harry was eying the tape measure, now measuring between his nostrils, that had been moving on its own for some time. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.
"That will do," he said and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Harry took the wand and, feeling foolish, waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his had almost at once.
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try –"
Harry tried – but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.
"No, no – here ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."
Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was growing higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.
"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. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He waved it through the dusty air and a stream of silver and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! 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…"
{Sorry,} Harry wrote {but what's curious?}
Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.
"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 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 blinked again, recalling Hagrid mentioning something about that too. He'd have to ask Tom or maybe Sanajeh. Harry wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. He paid seven gold Galleons for his wand, collected the basket from the floor, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.
XXXXXXXXXX
The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harry and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Harry was deep in thought as they walked down the road; he didn't even notice how many people were gaping at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the large cobra asleep in its basket on Harry's lap. Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Harry only realized where they were when Hagrid tapped him on the shoulder.
"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said.
He bought Harry a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. Hagrid was looking at him funny again.
"You all right, Harry?" he asked.
He nodded, then wrote {I'm just wondering, why won't you tell me why my parents are famous. Who was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and why was Mr. Ollivander expecting great things from me? I just don't know enough.}
Hagrid looked uncomfortable. "I'm not really the right person ter tell yeh all that. But don' worry, Harry, yeh'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts – I did – still do, 'smatter of fact."
Hagrid helped Harry on to the train that would take him back to the Dursleys, then handed him an envelope.
"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts," he said. "First o' September – King's Cross – it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, just threaten' em with a snout ter match the tail…See yeh soon, Harry."
The train pulled out of the station. Harry turned around to see Hagrid waving goodbye out the window, but he blinked and Hagrid was gone.
A/N: Huh! Writing homicidal reptilian creatures was a lot easier than I thought it'd be! In this chapter I was kind of experimenting with dialogue so apologies for the lack of HarryTom interaction that I know you all love. As you may (or not) know, my school year has started so I'm having some problems finding good quality time to bond with my computer. Updates will probably be sporadic at best or nonexistent at worst, so sorry for the future wait. Savor the chapter, as it could be the last you get for a while. Now that thought makes us both sad. But remember! I will persevere! And your wonderful, thoughtful reviews help me to do so. And so do votes on the poll in my profile. Bye-bye now.