Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter world.
A/N: When writing this chapter, I noticed that Diagon Alley is actually an anagram for "All Die Agony"...how pleasant.
Diagon Alley
Over the next few weeks, Dumbledore rarely saw Harry. The young wizard was spending more and more time with his tutors, and when he did arrive back at the school in the evenings, the Headmaster was usually busy with ministry requests or school paperwork.
It was for this reason that Dumbledore decided to take Harry to Diagon Alley on one of his rare weekends off. Apart from being able to spend some time with his young charge, the older wizard knew that Harry would soon be needing a wand in order to begin his practical lessons. He also felt that Harry was long overdue some new clothes (though he hadn't mentioned this to him yet).
On Saturday morning, Dumbledore made his way down to the Great Hall and found Harry sitting by one of the tables reading a book given to him by Lucien. The Headmaster couldn't help the immensely proud feeling that consumed him, as he watched the younger boy. In the last few weeks, Harry had proved both conscientious and quick to learn new material, with the result that he had progressed through his theory lessons at an insanely fast rate.
Harry was reading so intently, that he didn't even notice the Headmaster walk up behind him, until he spoke.
"So, Mr Potter, shall we go shopping? Or would you prefer to sit here and read all day?"
Harry jumped slightly and, catching Dumbledore's smile, grinned sheepishly and put the book away. The two of them made their way up to Albus' office, where the elder wizard grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fireplace. Taking Harry's hand, Dumbledore stepped into the flames shouting "Diagon Alley" and the two were spun dizzily in the grate until they arrived at the old cobbled pathways of the wizarding shops.
Harry gaped open mouthed at his surroundings as they made their way towards the main alley. Never in his life had he seen anything like this place, the streets were filled with hundreds of witches and wizards going about their weekly shopping and every shop window they passed, seemed to display something even more incredible and exciting than the last.
Their first stop was Flourish and Blotts, the wizarding bookshop. The place was filled from floor to ceiling with the largest collection of books Harry had ever seen. From books on curses and jinxes, to those on how to deal with garden gnomes, it seemed to Harry, as though there was a book in here for everything imaginable. So absorbed was he by his surroundings, that Harry didn't notice Dumbledore discretely slide a few coins over the counter and pay for a large, colourful book on legendary wizarding tales.
Equally as impressive as Flourish and Blotts, was Quality Quidditch Supplies. After his first encounter of quidditch with Lucien and Isabelle, Harry had fallen in love with the sport. He would avidly read the Prophet every morning to check the latest scores or news about his favourite team The Tornadoes and sometimes tuned into the wireless to listen to live matches.
The shop was crowded with people checking out the new season's stock. Harry keenly examined the new Tornadoes quidditch robes, before moving to join a large crowd of children around the latest model of the Nimbus series. Many were pleading with their parents to buy it for them and Harry felt distinctly awkward with the Headmaster standing beside him. He hoped Dumbledore wasn't feeling pressured to buy him anything with the other children around them, the last thing he wanted was to be a cause of unnecessary expense for the elder man. With this in mind, he pretended to lose interest in the shop and quickly made his way outside.
Dumbledore wasn't fooled. Harry's newfound passion for quidditch had not gone unnoticed by the Headmaster, and he had already made a mental note of the quidditch robes Harry had been interested in, as he followed his young charge outside. A part of him felt deeply saddened that Harry believed himself unworthy of presents, a trait undoubtedly stemmed from his childhood with the Dursleys. Harry's rumbling stomach however, pushed these thoughts from the Headmaster's mind, and they set about finding a place for lunch.
In the afternoon, they visited Madam Malkin's where Harry found himself being measured and pinned with copious amounts of fabric. Dumbledore bought him an expensive looking black fur cloak, along with a few emerald and black robes for general wear and a rather handsome set of red and black velvet dress robes. Harry, overwhelmed with gratitude towards the elder man, found that his throat had become obstructed when he tried to express his thanks, but Dumbledore seemed to understand, for he smiled as he paid for the items saying "You're quite welcome my boy".
Their final stop was Olivanders, Harry read, catching a glimpse of the sign, as he followed Dumbledore into a quaint little shop. The room inside was dusty and quiet, with boxes upon boxes of, what Harry assumed to be, wands stacked against the walls. The silence stretched on and seemed to engulf Harry, Dumbledore hummed quietly to himself as they waited. Harry wandered what was taking so long, and was just about to ask, when an old man appeared infront of them. He was thin and frail looking with large, grey eyes.
"Albus," he said shaking Dumbledore's hand, "what a pleasant surprise".
Olivander's gaze fell on Harry, and he looked enquiringly at Dumbledore.
"This Jeffrey," said Dumbledore making the introduction, "is Harry Potter. He is here for a wand"
Olivander frowned slightly at the Headmaster.
"A little young to be purchasing a wand don't you think Albus?"
"There has been a change in plan. Harry is to begin his magical... ah...education, slightly earlier than normal" Dumbledore replied.
"Very well," said Olivander, proceeding to take Harry's measurements, "but I can't guarantee he'll find a wand. Many wizards do not develop magical aptitude until they are slightly older than Harry is at present".
As the afternoon wore on, Harry was beginning to get the impression that Olivander had been right. They had tried out, what seemed to Harry, half of the wands in the shop and none had so far proven to be the right match for him.
"What about that one Jeffrey?" said Dumbledore pointing to a lone box in the far corner of the room. Olivander looked up.
"Holly and Phoenix feather" he said quietly. The two adults stared at each other for a moment, before Olivander picked up the wand and handed it to Harry.
Before he had even touched it, Harry somehow knew that this was the one for him, and sure enough when he gave it a sweeping wave, a burst of blinding white light emitted from its tip.
"Oh well done!" cried Olivander, while Dumbledore gave Harry's shoulder a gentle squeeze.
As Olivander wrapped the wand, Harry noticed both adults were wearing rather pensive looks. He didn't have time to ponder on this though as Dumbledore took out a leather pouch to pay for the wand. Harry felt himself go red again feeling more and more like a charity case. He wished he had some money of his own so he wouldn't be so much of a burden to the elder man.
These bitter thoughts consumed him as they walked back along a side alley. Dumbledore produced a glowing newspaper which Harry recognised as a portkey, and holding onto it, felt the familiar sensation once more of being sucked into a plughole. They appeared at the gates of the school where darkness was rapidly falling.
"Are you alright Harry?" said Dumbledore, noticing Harry's silence as they walked up the drive, "You seem rather quiet."
"It's just...," Harry paused, struggling to find the words, "You shouldn't have bought me all this" he said gesturing to their bags.
Dumbledore glanced at Harry, he had a feeling he knew where this was going, "And why ever not Harry?"
"Because you shouldn't have to waste your money and time on me, it's not your job" said Harry quietly.
Dumbledore put a hand on Harry's shoulder and made the younger boy turn to face him.
"Listen to me Harry," he said quietly, "I didn't do this because it's my job. I did it because I wanted to. Because I enjoy spending time with you."
But Harry wasn't convinced, and he turned away from Dumbledore, voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing him.
"I just don't want to...to be a burden" he said in barely above a whisper.
Harry waited, but Dumbledore didn't reply. When he turned to face the Headmaster, he saw that the elder man was staring at him sadly.
"What?" he said rather more defensively than he intended.
Dumbledore moved forward and wrapped his arms around Harry pulling him close. The gesture shocked Harry, and he froze, unsure of what to do with himself. Dumbledore rubbed a soothing hand on his back and Harry began to relax into the embrace.
"You could never be a burden to me Harry" said Dumbledore gently. Harry clung to the Headmaster, wanting desperately to believe his words and without warning, he felt a lump rise unbidden in his throat, squeezing his eyes shut as tears began to trickle down his face. Dumbledore's arms tightened around him.
"Hush now" he said gently, stroking Harry hair. Harry's eyelids began to droop and soon he was fast asleep in the Headmaster's arms.
Dumbledore smiled when he heard the soft snores from his young charge and shifting Harry against his chest, lifted him up and carried him back to the castle.
From a tree above, a tabby cat watched the two of them with what looked like a faint smile.
What do you think? Too fluffy? Please Review!