Here you go, the next chapter. I'm sorry it took so long, but Christmas Break is a really hard time to try to write. At one point I had something like 13 cousins, 6 aunts and uncles, and my grandmother at my house.
Originally I intended this chapter to cover their entire trip to Diagon Alley, but it ended up expanding really fast, so I split the chapter in two. Funnily enough, despite that this is still the longest chapter yet, even without the long author's notes. The next chapter will be the rest of the trip to the alley. The chapter after will be one of the most important ones of Harry and Millie's time before Hogwarts, the one in which they both get a few important things explained to them. After that, there'll probably be another five or so chapters before Hogwarts. Originally I wanted to get to Hogwarts in only a few chapters, but there's still a bunch more that I want to add first.
In response to my reviews: To Penseln: I'm thinking that they will have only a certain degree of Pureblood philosophies, as both of them have muggleborn mothers, of course. On the other hand, they will have a certain degree of contempt for Muggles themselves, both because of their experiences in school and because of their close interaction with Millie's parents, who scorn Muggles.
I can't imagine them being friends with Hermione, but not because of her Muggleborn descent. Rather, because she is a Gryffindor and they are Slytherin, they won't be friends. On the other hand, they will be something like allies or associates. Basically, they are friends in the Slytherin sense, but not in the real Gryffindor sense of the word. As far as taunts and the like, they can't afford to directly combat them, but they certainly won't join in, and they may combat them in a subtle way.
As mentioned above, I can't really see them having any real friends in Slytherin. However, just as with Hermione (or Granger, as I think they'll be referring to most people by their last names), they may be friendly with other Slytherins. I think Davis, Greengrass and Zabini are the most likely candidates of that status. Incidentally, they will be friendly with the Weasleys as well, but even that friendship will be tainted a bit by a Slytherin mentality, at least on the side of Harry and Millie.
To Reader1Writer1: Well, the Bulstrodes won't introduce Harry to his inheritance, though they would if they could. They just don't have his key. I think they'll mention that to him next chapter. As far as Ms. Capon goes, she will play a bit of a role in the story, though it is somewhat peripheral.
On another note, mostly unrelated to my story, I was reading a bunch during Christmas Break, even if I couldn't write, and I had an idea (dangerous, I know). I was reading a few time travel stories, and I was thinking it would be really interesting to have a story of that type in which a secondary character, say perhaps Millie, came back in time. For one thing, they would have a lot less knowledge than the main characters would have, which would make it all a whole lot more interesting. So, an embittered and disillusioned Millicent Bulstrode, whose family was killed by Death Eaters and whose friends were imprisoned by the Order, comes back in time for some reason or another. I don't have the time to write that story, but I think that something along those lines would be really, really interesting to read.
Anyway, sorry about the off-topicness. Just thought I'd write what I was thinking at the time. Here's the story. Please read and review, and don't hesitate to criticize. Thanks.
Disclaimer: I don't own nothing. Sorry for all those who had some idea in their head that I was J.K. Rowling, I'm sorry to disappoint.
The final month and a half of school passed quickly, and soon the two friends found themselves in the summer. On the last day of school, Harry mournfully told his best friend that they wouldn't be able to play together as much, since he would have to do chores every day. To Harry's surprise Millie had just smiled and said it wouldn't be a problem.
"But Millie! How can you say it won't be a problem? I'll be lucky if I finish my chores by three every day," Harry had protested, shocked by his friend's lack of concern.
"Don't worry," she had said, "it will all sort itself out."
Despite his friend's words, Harry could not help worrying as he lay in his cupboard that night. What if why she laughed was because she didn't like me anymore, he thought, what if now that it's summer she found a better friend?
Harry did not sleep well that night, and his dreams were interspersed with flashes of a sickly green light and the faint echo of a woman's screams. He had been having dreams like that for as long as he could remember, especially after a bad day. However, this had been only the third such dream that year, and the worst one he'd had since he broke his arm when he was five.
When Harry woke the next morning to the sound of his Aunt Petunia rapping on the door to his cupboard, he reluctantly left his bed in the corner and, with the small light as his guide, got dressed. For his cousin Dudley getting dressed in such cramped quarters would be quite a chore, but even though Harry was not quite as thin as he had been, he still had room to spare in his cupboard. When he woke, he did not remember his dream of the night before, but the uneasiness and fright it induced in him remained regardless.
Begrudgingly he trudged downstairs to start his Aunt's breakfast, making a muffin for her before starting on the bacon and eggs for his Uncle and cousin's breakfasts. As he worked, slowly mixing the muffin batter, he reflected on how awful the day, and the rest of summer, would be.
These thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a most unexpected knock on the door. What could anyone want at seven in the morning on the first day of summer? Harry continued working, confident that his Aunt would answer the door. She did sure enough, and as he turned over a piece of sizzling bacon he could hear voices travelling to his ears from the hall.
After a few minutes, his Aunt's voice could be heard, screeching, "You're one of HER lot, aren't you? The boy won't be going anywhere with you!"
Harry's ears perked up at this. He wasn't sure what was going on in the hall, but it livened up what was sure to be an otherwise boring day. Above him he could hear creaking as Uncle Vernon heard the shouting below and woke up.
Another few murmurs reached Harry's ears as he strained to listen, and then… "NO! She went off with that awful Snape boy and then she got herself blown up! The boy will stay where he is!"
Harry wondered what boy she was talking about. He was the only one he knew whom she referred to as boy, but no one would want to take him anywhere. Maybe Dudley had annoyed her really badly? Or maybe they were talking about one of Aunt Marge's dogs? And who had gotten blown up?
Another screech came from the hall, but Harry could not make out the words. He winced, as the screaming was beginning to hurt his ears. Behind him on the stairs, Uncle Vernon was walking down, obviously angry at being woken up. "Well boy?" he asked, his mustache bristling dangerously, "what's going on?"
"I don't know, Uncle Vernon," Harry replied. "Aunt Petunia's arguing with someone outside."
Uncle Vernon stomped past Harry to the front door, and after a few moments his booming voice joined the cacophony. The loud noises travelled to the kitchen clearly, but by this point they were so jumbled up Harry couldn't distinguish individual words.
A few more moments and Dudley lumbered down the stairs, throwing himself into his seat and asking dumbly, "What's going on?"
Harry could only shrug as the noise continued. He finished the bacon and dropped the fatty pieces onto Dudley's and Uncle Vernon's plates. From the hallway came a decrease in volume as the argument began dying down. After a few more minutes of quieter talking, in which Harry began eating the burnt scraps that were his breakfast, his Uncle came walking back.
"Boy," he said, looking at Harry with an expression he couldn't recognize, "go see your Aunt in the front."
Harry, confused, followed his Uncle's directions. What could his Aunt want with him? He pondered the thought as he walked slowly past the table to the hall. Maybe she wanted to carry someone's bags or something?
His jaw dropped open and all thoughts fled from his mind as he turned the corner and looked to the front door. Harry stared in astonishment as he saw Millie grinning back at him next to her mother, and Aunt Petunia gritting her teeth in anger.
"Harry," his Aunt said in a falsely sweet tone, "Mrs. Bulstrode has kindly agreed to take you shopping with her sometime next week." Harry smiled in delight and utter amazement. Aunt Petunia continued, "In return, you are going to clean the Bulstrodes' house once a week for the rest of the summer."
Aunt Petunia did not look at all happy about any of this, but Harry felt his excitement grow with each word. All of that was amazing, even cleaning out the Bulstrodes' house. He would be able to see a real magical house, one with moving paintings and huge libraries and everything! And he would be able to see Millie! And not only that, but he was going to get to see Diagon Alley and go shopping for magical sweets and see broomsticks and all sorts of stuff like that! In the space of three minutes, the prospects for Harry's summer had changed from being awful to being absolutely amazing.
But…Harry looked at Millie questioningly. Why would Aunt Petunia agree to something like this when she obviously hated the idea? She wasn't even getting anything out of the deal. Millie, reading his look correctly, motioned to the door. Harry shook his head, making a slight motion to his Aunt. She wouldn't want him to go outside, at least until he cleaned the house completely.
Millie looked to her mother. "Mother, could Harry and I go outside and play?"
Aunt Petunia looked ready to burst. "The boy can't go leave until he finishes his chores." She was careful to keep a pleasant tone, but she looked like it was causing her physical pain to be nice to Harry and the Bulstrodes.
Mrs. Bulstrode smiled pleasantly at Harry's Aunt. "Oh, come now Mrs. Dursley. Surely Harry can finish his chores later in the day? Let them have their fun."
Harry expected Aunt Petunia to immediately say no, but to his surprise she, looking like she was going to choke on her words as they came out of her mouth, said irritably "I suppose that he can finish his work later in the day."
He stared at his Aunt in shock at her words. She was letting him postpone his chores. What was going on today? Aunt Petunia noticed him staring and snarled at him. "Well boy? What are you waiting for? Go and play with your little friend."
Harry nearly whooped with joy and immediately ran out the door, followed closely by Millie. When the pair was out of sight of the house, Harry turned to his friend and all the questions that he had came bursting out in a flood. "What just happened? How did your mum convince Aunt Petunia to let me go to Diagon Alley? And why was Aunt Petunia acting so nice? When are we going to Diagon Alley? When do I get to go and help clean your house? What is your house like?"
Millie grinned back at him. They were walking to the playground that the pair always went to, an abandoned one that was still in somewhat working order. She responded to his questions with a laughing "Slow down Harry! One question at a time."
Harry smiled back, his joy bursting out as he realized that his summer would be more than bearable, it would actually be fun. "Sorry," he said sheepishly, "got a bit carried away." He then continued in a more serious tone. "How did your mum convince Aunt Petunia to let me out, anyway?"
His friend, still grinning, said, "I think mother offered your Uncle money." Her smile faltered a bit. "I dunno why, though. My father's always complaining that he doesn't make enough money at the Cannons. This is the second time they've offered to pay something for you. I don't understand it."
"Do you think we should just ask them?" Harry asked, curiously. He would never even think of doing something like that with his Aunt and Uncle, or his teachers at school, but they were Muggles. He wondered if it was different with wizards.
She shook her head. "I don't think so. Anyway, I don't think they're going to do anything to hurt you. I just don't know why they're doing this." Millie was obviously frustrated by not understanding her parents' motivation.
"Yeah, it's weird, isn't it?" He did understand Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia though. Even the chance of making money would spur his Uncle to make a deal with the devil, and he would make Aunt Petunia support anything he did. Besides, for all that the Bulstrodes were wizards, they didn't look weird or abnormal.
As Harry was pondering the thought, he saw the top of the playground swing set over the trees and his other thoughts left his mind. "Last one to the swings is a yellow Niffler!" Millie laughed and the pair began racing down the street to their playground, doubts and worries forgotten in the joy of youth.
The rest of the week passed in an atmosphere of joyful anticipation for Harry, as he waited for the trip to Diagon Alley. He and Millie managed to sneak out for a few hours each day to play on the swings and talk. Mostly they talked about the upcoming trip, but they also spent some time in a corner of the playground eating food Millie had sneaked out of her house.
Finally the day arrived when Mrs. Bulstrode came to take Harry to Diagon Alley. Harry woke up really early that morning, being sure to dodge a trip wire Dudley had gotten as a present for finishing the school year and placed across his cupboard door. He walked downstairs and, excitement bubbling in his stomach, began to cook breakfast for the Dursleys. Even though he knew the Bulstrodes wouldn't arrive for another hour, he was constantly turning his head to glance at the hallway for a knock.
When Aunt Petunia came down, she was glowering at Harry balefully as he turned his head again to the hallway. "They won't be here for another hour, boy," she snapped. "Can't wait to go to that place for weirdoes and freaks, can you?"
Harry was surprised by her words. This was the angriest he had ever seen Aunt Petunia get, even worse than the time his hair had grown back the day after being cut. He stared at her in astonishment for a few seconds, before belatedly turning back to the stove to keep the bacon from burning.
The next hour passed unbearably slowly for Harry as he waited in desperate anticipation for the knock on the door. He barely even noticed the burnt taste of the bacon in his mouth as his anxiety grew. Finally, the knock came, and Harry jumped out of his chair so quickly he nearly toppled his plate off the table. His Uncle gave him a glare, but Harry barely noticed as he sprinted to the front door and opened it.
Outside Millie and her parents stood smiling at him. Millie grinned at him wildly as he opened the door, and she ran inside immediately to stand next to him. Aunt Petunia, obviously dreading it, followed Harry to the door and greeted the visitors with some politeness, though it was certainly forced.
"Hello, Mrs. Dursley," said Mr. Bulstrode. Harry thought he could hear a bit of contempt in the older man's voice. "Do you mind if we step inside?"
"Of course not, Mr. Bulstrode. It's nice to finally meet you." Aunt Petunia seemed even more sour than usual. "Come on into the kitchen."
"Thank you, Mrs. Dursley…do you mind if I call you Petunia? Thank you Petunia." Aunt Petunia looked like she would have a heart attack at Mrs. Bulstrode's casual familiarity. From Millie's grin, Harry though that was probably her mother's intention.
Uncle Vernon came out at that point, as the three visitors were ushered inside. To Harry's utter surprise, he looked almost jovial when he came out to greet them. "Ah, Mrs. Bulstrode. And this would be your husband? Nice to meet you." After a moment, Harry realized that this was the character Uncle Vernon put on when he was trying to impress clients. Harry remembered peeking out from his cupboard one night that winter and listening to Uncle Vernon and the rest of the Dursleys trying to get a contract from a set of dinner guests.
This time Harry was completely sure he saw a sneer on Mr. Bulstrode's face, one that was mimicked on his wife's face as well. "It's very nice to meet you, Mr. Dursley."
"Would you like something to eat, Mr. Bulstrode? A cup of tea?" The kindness on Uncle Vernon's face was obviously faked, just as fake as the same expression on each of the other three adults. Harry nearly laughed out loud looking at the pained expression on all four adults, each looking like they would rather be anywhere else, but each pretending that they were happy to be there. He didn't quite understand what was going on, or why they would all be pretending to be polite when they obviously hated their counterparts, but it was very entertaining, to be sure.
As the visitors were brought into the kitchen, Harry thought that Mr. Bulstrode looked like he would like to punch Uncle Vernon for a second, looking from Dudley to Harry in a sidelong glance. However, that look vanished as soon as it appeared, to be replaced yet again by a forced politeness.
"No thank you, Mr. Dursley. We will just be going now, from your living room if you don't mind."
Aunt Petunia looked like she would faint at this pronouncement. "You're going to use your freakishness in my kitchen?" She asked, in a quiet voice, with the faintest trace of a tremor.
"Nothing to worry about, Petunia," Mrs. Bulstrode said, looking like she was enjoying Aunt Petunia's discomfort.
Meanwhile, as the adults were talking, Millie pulled Harry over to a corner. She was jubilant, incredibly excited to be showing her friend the wonders of Diagon Alley. "You ready, Harry?"
She saw that Harry had a huge smile on his face, the biggest she had seen the entire year. He answered "Yeah, I can't wait! What are we going to do at Diagon Alley?"
Millie answered with a grin, thinking of all the places she would show Harry. "Well, my mother wants us to go to Gladrags, to get some clothes. Then we're going to go to Flourish and Blott's to get my mother some books. I want to get a book on Beater tactics there, and maybe another one on jinxes and hexes. Then we can go to Fortescue's for some ice cream. Then my father's promised we can go to Quality Quidditch Supplies to look at broomsticks."
Harry grinned at that last. Millie had been talking about going to see the broomsticks the entire week, and she couldn't wait to show Harry them. Harry was about to respond to her, but at that moment, Mr. Bulstrode called both of them over.
The Dursleys looked like they were ready to have a fit, but Uncle Vernon was holding Aunt Petunia's shoulder and whispering in her ear. Dudley was nowhere to be seen.
"Are you two ready?" He glanced back at the Dursleys for a moment. "Don't worry, Mrs. Dursley. This will not cause any harm to your kitchen." He looked back to the two children. "Here we go."
Mr. Bulstrode put a hand on Millie's shoulder just at the same time as Mrs. Bulstrode put one on Harry's and the world dissolved in grey light as Millie felt herself squeezed in the odd sensation of Apparition. She opened her eyes again to see the distinctive white marble building of Gringotts bank in front of them. Turning to her left, Millie saw Harry, pale as a ghost, bent over and looking quite sickly.
"What was that?" Harry asked, gasping for breath.
Millie rushed over to him and pulled him up. "Harry, are you all right?" she asked with concern. "That was Apparition. I forgot you hadn't done that before."
Hearing her voice, Harry looked up and, to Millie's great amusement, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened comically. He looked around in amazement, taking in the sights. Millie, having only been at Diagon Alley once before, joined him in examining the wonders around them. There was Madam Malkin's, therewas Flourish and Blott's, there were shops for pets, for potions supplies, for anything you might ever want. And there was Quality Quidditch Supplies, with broomsticks in the windows and all sorts of wonders inside.
All around them were bustling witches and wizards, wearing clothes of every color and description. She saw one wizard who was wearing, of all things, a dark blue ball gown. There were even a few among the crowd of people wearing dragon-hide robes, and at least two walking by were wearing Quidditch robes. Noise and confusion filled the air. The door of every store on the street was being constantly opened and closed as wizards and witches walked in and out. In front of Quality Quidditch a crowd of children had gathered, staring at a broomstick that was hidden from Millie's sight by the door, wedged open to allow for the stream of people going in and out.
Millie took a step towards the Quidditch store, dragging Harry with her, but Mrs. Bulstrode stopped her before she could get far.
"Wait, Millicent, Harry. First we have to get some clothes at Gladrag's Wizard Wear." Millie felt some disappointment, but besides her Harry looked just as excited as ever. "Antoine, get some money from our vault, and meet me at Flourish and Blott's. I have enough with me to get the two children some clothes."
Mr. Bulstrode left them behind as he strode into the white marbled building that was Gringotts. Mrs. Bulstrode began walking to the left, beckoning Harry and Millie to follow her. She led them off the main street of Diagon Alley into a small alley. It was as brightly lit as the main street, and was filled with bustle as well, but it seemed a bit shabbier. They passed a small shop with a swinging sign proudly proclaiming Merlin's Best: Antiques and Ancient Artefacts. A short, thin witch wearing bright green robes walked out of the shop as they passed, carrying an odd cup.
Millie bent over to whisper in Harry's ear. "I think that's supposed to be a goblet from Merlin's time. Auntie Barker says most of the stuff in the shop is junk, though."
A bit further along was a store, in front of which a fat wizard stood, yelling, "Second hand books! Come along, folks, and get books, tomes and scrolls of all kinds! Half price today, just for you!"
Mrs. Bulstrode pointedly ignored the fellow, striding past him to turn into a large shop with clothing hanging in the windows. "Here we are," she said, "wait here for a moment, while I talk to the shop owner.
Millie saw Harry looking around in amazement, staring at all the robes hanging on the shelves, and the floating candles above them. "This is nothing compared to Madam Malkin's," she whispered, "but we can't afford that. My father says I'll get my school robes there when we go to Hogwarts, but until then we get clothes here."
Harry didn't seem to hear her, since he was so engrossed in peering up at the floating candles. Millie laughed at his preoccupation, and made her own study of the room. Around them were dozens of robes of all sizes and colors, even bright pink and a nauseating shade of green. Millie's mother was talking in a corner to a grey haired wizard. Whatever they were talking about was obviously engrossing, for the wizard was staring at Millie's mother with a face of surprise and perhaps disbelief. In another corner a pretty blond witch was stacking boxes on a shelf, while next to her another one was writing things down on a piece of parchment attached to her clipboard.
Finally, the grey haired wizard ended his conversation with Millie's mother and walked over to another witch, an older woman whom Millie had not noticed. After a brief conversation, the older witch moved to Harry and Millie and told them to hold still for a moment. She waved her wand at a pile of tape measures in a corner, and, to Harry's obvious delight, the tape measures began dancing around the pair, measuring their every dimension.
On a small table next to them, a pair of quills were writing on pieces of parchment, dancing across the page as quickly as the Falmouth Falcons' Seeker, Charles Grey, flying for the Snitch. At the thought, Millie winced a little, remembering the Falcons crushing the Cannons in the first round of the playoffs two weeks before. Her father had been growling about everything for nearly five days, angry about the loss.
Suddenly, the peace in the shop was destroyed by the door being thrown open loudly. Two boys ran through the doorway, sprinting into the shop and ignoring the shouts of the store employees. The boys were identical, with bright red hair atop their heads, looking a few years older than Harry and Millie. They ran into the shop and, seeing the two children already inside, hid behind them.
"Hide us." One of the boys said, urgently, to the bewildered Harry.
"Oh no, here she comes," said the other, looking to the door.
Harry and Millie turned to look at the door as well, which crashed open yet again. Framed in the doorway was a very small girl, freckled and red faced. To Harry and Millie's surprise and confusion, her hair was a very dark green, hanging down her shoulders and making her look very funny.
She stomped into the store, looking around angrily." She spotted the pair hiding behind Harry and started shouting at them. "Fred! George! Turn it back." She looked close to tears, even as she was yelling loudly.
The two redheads turned and ran, closely pursued by the green haired girl. The scene was completed by yet another redhead, his fussy appearance accentuated by round horn-rimmed glasses, running through the door of the shop, shouting, "Fred, give me back my new wand!" When this final redhead ran through the store and disappeared out the back door following the other running children, Harry and Millie stared dumbly after them. Finally, they both collapsed into laughter.
"That was weird," said Harry, when he had finally collected himself.
"Very weird," agreed Millie, her frame still racked by her chuckles.
After a moment, the store returned to its previous calm. The older witch standing by the pair of children shook her head in disapproval. She then collected the quills, which had continued writing throughout the disturbance and looked at the parchments. Walking to the corner of the shop, she handed them to the brown haired witch with the clipboard. After a moment, the three witches in the corner conferred with Millie's mother, and found a few boxes on the shelves. The older woman walked back to the pair with the boxes in her arms.
"Here y'are, laddie, lassie." She said, with a distinct Scottish accent. "Three robes each."
Millie opened the top box cautiously and peered inside. There was a black robe in the box, well-made but slightly tattered. Looking over at Harry, she saw that he had a very similar robe in his arms.
As she happened to be looking his way, she also saw the Scottish witch give Harry a very peculiar look as he wiped his hair out of his eyes. All of a sudden the witch gasped, her eyes widening. Harry, still looking in delight at his new robes, did not notice the older witch doing anything odd, but Millie did.
Millie distinctly heard the witch mutter under her breath. "Oh, Merlin. Harry Potter hisself, in me own shop. What an honor, what an honor."
Millie stared at the witch in surprise, and some trepidation. Instinctively she knew that this related closely to all of the things that her mother and father had done for Harry already. But why would the witch know his name, and why would she say it was an honor?
As her mother counted off golden Galleons to hand to the gray-haired storekeeper, Millie decided that she would figure out the mystery around Harry's name, and find out why he was so important.