Note:

8 days after my previous chapter, I present you chapter 4 (8k :) )

I know I couldn't get the deadlines. Now I'll only post the deadline in the description when I'm 90% sure I can update.

Enjoy !

Chapter 4 - Diagon Alley

Harry and Willie apparated near the Leaky Cauldron in London.

First they went to a muggle cloth store down the street, where Harry bought new clothes and fitting shoes after borrowing money from Willie. A few minutes later, they both entered the Leaky Cauldron.

The popular wizarding pub was crowded during lunchtime and no one noticed the two wizards slipping through.

In the back, Harry watched Willie count the bricks in the wall.

"Three up … two across …," he muttered. "Right, stand back, Harry."

He tapped the wall three times with his wand.

The brick he had touched quivered — it wriggled — in the middle, a small hole appeared — it grew wider and wider — a sec ond later they were facing an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Willie, "to Diagon Alley." They stepped together through the archway.

Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the arch way shrink instantly back into solid wall.

"This is awesome," said Harry excited and turned back to Willie.

Willie laughed at the fascinated eleven year old. "Harry, as I told you, I've to go back to the library. I'm sure you'll find your way around here."

"I will, thanks for bringing me, Willie." Harry said. "See you later."

Willie patted the young wizard on the back and with a 'plop' Willie apparated back.

Harry turned his head in every direction as he walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the various stores, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. He searched his way through the crowd. A few attentive people gazed at his back, but he couldn't hear what they were whispering.

A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as he passed, saying, "Dragon liver, sixteen Sickles an ounce, they're mad."

Harry figured he needed money first, and decided to pay a visit to the famous Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Everywhere he looked, there were different stores, from Eeylops Owl Emporium to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, and from Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions to Madam Primpernelle's Beautifying Potions.

Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand — fastest ever —"

Harry looked forward to flying on a broom and cleaving through the sky at high speed. In his spare time he had read some beginner tips to flying, he also found articles about the popular wizarding sport Quidditch and got interested. There were seven people on a Quidditch team: three Chasers, whose job it was to score goals by putting the Quaffle through one of the fifty-foot-high hoops at each end of the field; two Beaters, who were equipped with heavy bats to repel the Bludgers, two heavy black balls; a Keeper, who defended the goal posts, and the Seeker, who had to find and catch the Golden Snitch, a tiny, winged, walnut-sized ball, whose capture ended the game and earned the Seeker's team an extra one hundred and fifty points.

After passing more stores with items Harry had never seen before, he reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. He walked up the white stone steps and entered through the burnished bronze doors. There were a handful of goblins in the entrance hall, they bowed as they saw Harry enter and to their surprise Harry politely bowed back.

Harry not noticing the astonishing looks of the goblins at his show of respect to their kind, read the engraved words on a second pair of doors.

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

"Seems fitting." He thought. Goblins would protect money and valuables at any cost, which makes them ideal guardians for the valuables of the wizarding world. They alone know the secrets of the twisting underground passages and the enchantments and creatures in place to defend against intruders.

The silver doors opened and he calmly entered the marble hall, his emotions in check behind his poker face. Inner Harry was impressed, about a hundred more goblins were sit ting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious gems through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these.

Harry made for a free counter and fluently greeted the staring goblin in his best Gobbledegook. "Master goblin, may your gold continue to flow,"causing saidgoblin to fall from his chair with a startled cry.

The goblin had eyed the young wizard when he entered the main hall, wondering why such a young boy was visiting the notorious Wizarding Bank on his own. When the boy came over to his counter, he was calm and at ease, like he had been here countless times. Then he had flawlessly greeted the goblin, who couldn't believe his ears, only once in his life had he heard another wizard speak the ancient tongue.

Griphook quickly recovered his position behind the counter, knowing of his discourtesy and replied with great respect, also in Gobbledegook. "May your gold continue to flow as well, young wizard."

"My name is Harry Potter, I've never been here before…" Harry said in Gobbledegook, eying the goblin. He paused because he didn't know how he should bring this up, he knew the old wizarding families had their own vaults, no doubt the Potter family had more than one, but the goblins didn't know him and he didn't have a key or proof he was the real Harry Potter.

The eyes of the goblin widened, gazing at the legendary boy-who-lived.

The goblin smiled, and quickly replied to comfort him. "No need to worry, Mr. Potter. Let us first take a blood sample to confirm your identity and after I'll gladly explain."

Harry rolled up his sleeve and put his arm on the counter, with a strange object the goblin moved over his arm. He felt three small pricks, then goblin nodded and removed the object. Harry looked at his unharmed arm, no trace of the stings.

"Mr. Potter, like most old wizarding families you have access to a trust vault which was set up when you were born. Usually it is used to cover the costs of schooling and few other expenses." The goblin continued in Gobbledegook.

"Do I own any other vaults?" Harry asked curiously, all ears for what the goblin was telling him.

"The Potter family is the oldest family we have contracts with, and have an enormous fortune. On your seventeenth birthday, you will gain full rights of the family vaults, and the goblins will be most anxious to speak to you on matters of investment, I am sure. For now, however, you should not think on it."

"I understand, master goblin." Harry replied, modestly.

"Now, let us head for the vaults. If you have more questions, please ask." The goblin moved away from his counter, Harry silently followed him toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"By the way, my name is Griphook, it would be my absolute honor to serve you Mr. Potter." The goblin said with a bow and led them to a cart that took them deep underground.

The rattling cart 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 thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late — they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

After riding through countless tunnels, the cart stopped beside a small door in the passage wall and they both stepped out. Griphook unlocked the door of the vault with one of many keys. A lot of grey smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped shortly. Inside were mounds of gold coins.

"Your rather unique trust vault contains one million galleons, and will be refilled to this exact amount the first day of every year from now." Griphook said as he wondered why the boy stood there humble and completely unexcited. The boy was one of the most famous and richest people in all of Europe and yet he did not flaunt. Again Griphook was amazed by the young wizard.

Griphook waited a short moment before giving Harry a special pouch with the Gringotts seal on it. "This is an auto-refilling pouch for our more prominent customers, I've made a one hundred galleon base limit, that should be plentiful for you." He explained. "If you could now sign this, Mr. Potter."

Harry accepted the pouch and signed the parchment, it glowed for a split second, then he gave it back to Griphook.

"If you wish we can send you a monthly owl, with a list of your expenses."

"That won't be needed, but thanks for the offer, Mr. Griphook."

"Your pouch is now linked to your trust vault, and Mr. Potter, it's impossible for someone to steal it, there are anti-theft charms on the pouch." Griphook added, and couldn't hide a grin.

"Anti-theft charms?" Harry asked quickly.

"Yes, Mr. Potter, only yourself will be able to carry or open the pouch." Griphook replied in short, as he didn't want to reveal all the secret anti-theft charms, which are used to protect their customers.

"Very well. If we are finished here, it is time we go back, Mr. Griphook." Harry suggested politely, he had a lot to do today.

"Of course, certainly Mr. Potter, I'm sorry we took so much of your time." Griphook replied, he felt honored when Harry was using his given name.

One wild cart ride later, Harry stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. He decided to search for a wand next.

It didn't take him long to find the best wand store in the world, ironically the building was narrow and shabby, unlike most other buildings in Diagon Alley. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 482b.c. A single wand lay on a faded green cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as Harry stepped inside. It was a tiny place, with 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. An old man appeared from in the back, his wide, pale eyes shin ing like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander, sir." Harry said.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Mr. Potter. 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 trans figuration. 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.

"Mr. Potter, hold out your wand arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoul der 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 different core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

"That will do," Ollivander said.

Harry stood silent, looking at the old man, who was now flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.

Ollivander came back with a opened box in his hand. "Try this one. Beech-wood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand. Red sparks shot from the end of the wand and strong breeze could be felt across the room. He didn't gave it a wave yet.

Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, my, my… what power. Well, well, well … how curious … how very curious …"

"Excuse me," said Harry, "but what's curious?"

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare. "Rarely I find the right wand for the chosen wizard at once. For a wizard like you, Mr. Potter, it's very unusual."

Harry wasn't sure what to say and chose to wait till Ollivander continued.

"Maybe, yes… let's see…" Ollivander moved to the back and came with another box, he opened. Harry could see the excitement on the man's face. "Go on, go on, try it out."

As Harry held the second wand in his hand, purple sparks came out of the tip of the wand, and they both could feel the strong breeze again. Harry already got used to the effect, and thought maybe this was normal for a wizard holding a specific magic wand for the first time.

Ollivander's jaw dropped, he had never seen two wands choose the same wizard and he was certain that if he handed the black-haired wizard another wand, the same events would occur.

He broke eye contact with the young wizard and went again to the back. After moving and taking out numerous wand boxes, he found a black shabby box with a cut on the side. He blew the dust off the cover, opened it and looked at the pitch black wand. Strong emotions welled up, this was the wand Ollivander crafted with his father and uncle.

"Maybe today, you will find a fitting partner, my old friend." Ollivander whispered, sliding his fingers over the wand. He began talking to wands as he had spend and shared most of his life with them, he shared a special inexplicable bond with each one of them.

While Harry was waiting in the store, he started entertaining himself with a controlled flow of water that came out of the tip of the wand he was holding. He made the water go up and down like a fountain and now the water was circling rapidly around him. It is different and a lot easier to perform magic with a wand than with your bare hands, Harry thought. He couldn't wait to try out more spells he had read about the past years.

Ollivander returned and looked impressed by the spectacle. Harry noticed the wandmaker and simply thought Aqua Defluo. The water evaporated instantly in thin air.

Before a shocked Ollivander with another box in his hand could ask questions, Harry asked. "Do I really need to try another wand, Mr. Ollivander? It's not that I dislike trying out your superior wands but I only need one, and since these ones are quite comfortable…"

"I think this one may be worth another try, Mr. Potter." Ollivander retorted.

Harry nodded as he looked at the exquisite, dark black wand. He touched it and felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. At this moment, Harry knew this wand was destined to be his. He took the wand in his hand and a stream of gold sparks shot from the end.

Then there was a brief moment, both wizards silently staring in each other eyes, where nothing seemed to happen, when suddenly a gust of wind wrapped around the young wizard. Harry's new shirt was moving with the flow, coiled and uncoiled around him. The wind was playing with his already messy black hair. Ollivander could feel a heavy pressure and was blown against the wall behind. "The wand is interacting with his immense magical aura." Ollivander guessed, not caring about his fragile body that had hit the wall as he watched the one in a lifetime event in awe.

Calmness returned after a burst of white light that blinded the wandmaker.

"We can expect extraordinary things from this young one." Ollivander got up quite easily for his age and walked back to where the young wizard was standing.

"This wand was made a long time ago by my father, uncle and myself. The core is dragonbreath and phoenixfeather. Two different magical substances in the core make a wand unstable, but these two seem to work together if they are bonded, or better said, activated by a huge amount of raw magic power. If you can control your magic, you will achieve great things with this wand. Thanks to the unstable core, no one except you will be able to use this particular wand. To other people it will be less useful than an ordinary toothpick."

The wandmaker asked thirty galleons for the wand, Harry paid him double, and Mr. Ollivander bowed him from his shop.

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, much people went home but Harry wanted to visit two more stores. First he went to Hugh's Trunk Store and bought a medium sized trunk. It contained several compartments for books, potions, clothes, food and junk.

"Time to fill my personal library," Harry thought as he entered Flourish and Blotts, one of the popular bookstores on Diagon Alley. 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.

After Harry found all the books on his booklist for Hogwarts, he searched through the potions, charms, history and law section for more interesting books. He had two more months before the school year started and was determined to gather a lot more knowledge about magic. When he quickly scanned A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch and Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger, he wondered if those books were only for the first month of the school year.

These first year books are really easy, they are similar to the first magical books I've read years ago in the Library in Little Whinging. Harry thought disappointed.

After two hours, right before closing, Harry walked over to the counter with forty five shrunken books. The man behind it, was too shocked by the spellwork and the giant amount of books to notice the identity of the young wizard in front of him. Harry quickly paid the gawking storekeeper and decided to call it a day as it was getting late.

Harry went to the now more quiet Leaky Cauldron and sat down at a table. Tom, the bartender saw the young wizard and quickly walked up to him.

"Not lost are you, young sir?" He asked and thought, "maybe the poor lad lost his parents somewhere."

"Good evening, sir." Harry said, ignoring the question of the bartender. "I need a room for the night and I wanted to get a meal. I think chicken potatoes sound pretty good."

Tom was peering at the young wizard and suddenly he said loudly, "Good Lord," "are you — are you for real — ?" The man inched a bit closer.

Harry waited calmly for the man to realize who he was. It's always better to let people figure out the obvious themselves.

"Bless my soul," whispered the bartender, "Harry Potter … what an honor." He seized Harry's hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."

The few other people left in the bar were now looking at him. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out.

Great, now everyone noticed me and they'll want to shake hands. Harry thought and stayed silent. He wanted to be left alone, eat his dinner in peace and read one of his new books.

A single moment later, as Harry expected, he found himself shaking hands with the other people in the Leaky Cauldron.

"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."

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."

"I've seen you before, Mr. Diggle," said Harry to the bald man in a long blue coat. Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "We shook hands in the library of my hometown."

"I'm honored you remember me, Mr. Potter." The bald man said happily and moved aside.

"Going to Hogwarts this year, Mr. Potter?" A brown-haired woman asked as she shook his hand.

"Yes, I bought some things for school today." Harry replied, not giving the woman any more info to ask more questions.

"Oooh wonderful, my son Anthony will be in the same year. And I'm sorry, my name is Tea Goldstein." She shook his hand again and then went back to her table.

Tom came back with a plate in his hand and when he saw Harry's annoyed look, he urged the people still standing around the boy's table to their own tables.

"Sorry for that, Mr. Potter." Tom said, as he served Harry's dinner.

"It's nothing, sir." Harry said, looking at the well filled plate Tom put in front of him.

"Just Tom, Mr. Potter."

"Smells and looks good, Tom." Harry said friendly "And call me Harry, please."

The bartender smiled and walked to another customer.

The food was good, better than Harry usually got at home but it wasn't the best. After finishing his meal he decided that he should do his routine workout, read a book and then go to sleep. He needed to get up early, before the big crowd as he still had a lot of shopping to do.

After Harry was done, he asked Tom how much he owned him for the room and the meal.

"That'll be two gallons for the room and seven sickles and three knuts for the meal. I will put the room under a fake name, this way no one will know you are staying here." Tom said, with a low and quiet voice.

"Thanks, Tom, I appreciate it."

"Goodnight, Harry."

The next day, Harry woke up at 7:00 am. He took about an hour to shower, get dressed, and eat breakfast.

When he was done eating, Tom called. "Harry, the rent of your room has been paid for another two months. Someone said you'd like to stay here till the start of the school year."

"Who said that? And who paid for my room?" Harry asked surprised.

"I don't know, seems like you've got a good friend somewhere." Tom said hesitantly.

Harry knew when people lied to him, and used his Legilimency skills to learn the truth. It took five seconds to find out Albus Dumbledore had paid for his room. Apparently Dumbledore liked to keep an eye on Harry, first with the help of Mrs. Figgs and now with Tom. The old and powerful wizard wanted Harry to stay in Diagon Alley. I got no problems with that, Harry grinned.

"Yeah, I will thank Professor Dumbledore later," Harry smirked and he quickly took off to the Apothecary, leaving a confused bartender behind. After he had all the ingredients he needed, he walked to the cauldron store across the street.

There were no other customers yet and the enthusiastic salesman, looked to be around his mid-30s, immediately ran over to the young boy at the door.

"Good morning, can I help you, sir?"

"Yes, I'm going to Hogwarts this year and I'm looking for a cauldron. The letter said that we need a pewter, standard size 2." Harry recalled.

"You're on the right address, sir. Most Hogwarts students buy their cauldrons here, the pewter ones are always sold out by the end of august." The salesman said. "Very clever of you to come before the so called 'shopping rush'."

"Well I like to get all my stuff as soon as possible, then I don't have to think about it any longer." Harry explained and the salesman agreed, he liked the cunning boy who thought ahead.

"Sir, you have any idea why they listed a pewter cauldron? I've read those are low quality, and melt easy. If you compare the pewter ones with the brass, the pewter are utter rubbish. I've no idea why the board does not suggest to buy a brass cauldron, mainly for the increase in stability. Personally I'd go with the copper cauldron, to brew more potent potions." Harry said in one breath, then he pointed at a golden cauldron. The salesman smiled friendly and was amazed by the young wizard.

"And the golden cauldrons are for the wannabe rich people, very shining and all but in performance the same as the pewter." Harry added with disgust in his voice.

"You are very well informed, sir. I'm impressed." The salesman said. "The pewter cauldrons are on the list because they are relatively cheap. The Hogwarts Board of Governors feels that more expensive cauldrons would raise schooling costs too much. And don't forget, you can brew all beginner potions with a pewter cauldron, you'll only make it harder if you use a copper. With a copper little errors have big consequences but if you're flawless, you'll always get the best results. This is the reason why coppers are used by more advanced brewers."

"Then I'll take one copper cauldron, standard size 2, please." Harry's choice was made.

"Excellent choice, sir." The salesman agreed, still fascinated by the intelligent boy. "I myself started my first year at Hogwarts with a pewter cauldron, I was in the top three for Potions in my year. I changed to a brass cauldron in my second year, noticed the remarkable difference and never used the pewter again. After Hogwarts I tried a copper, which I'm still using regularly.

"You must have been.. or maybe still are an amazing brewer, sir." Harry said gently. "I hope you could tell me more about your time at Hogwarts when I've more time, later this week."

"I'd be happy to, pass by anytime you wish." The salesman said eagerly. "If you don't mind me asking, what is your name, sir?"

"My name is Harry Potter."

The salesman's eyes widened and his eyebrows rose. "By Merlin's cauldron, I should have known. It's a great honor to meet you, Mr. Potter."

"My name is Nick Potage, just call me Nick." The salesman said as they started shaking hands.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Nick." Harry said and paid for his copper cauldron.

"Thank you for buying and I hope to see you again soon, Mr. Potter." The salesman said while he opened the door for one of his now favorite customers.

Harry remarked a lot more people in Diagon Alley than earlier this morning and he thought to himself. It's not that bad, in fact when people are busy with relatives, friends and chores, they won't notice me passing through.

When Harry walked in front of Eeylops Owl Emporium, he stopped and remembered students were allowed to bring an owl or a cat or a toad. Harry didn't need any of those. He looked at the cages hanging on the outside of the shop, there was a Snowy Owl picking on the iron bars of his cage, making an irritating sound. He had a nametag on his leg, 'Hedwig' Harry read.

"Hedwig, that's ironic," He thought, "Who would name his owl after a well-known German store where they sell handbags made of owl feathers and animal leather."

Harry ate a sandwich at the bar next to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He remembered he still had to buy a uniform and fitting garments. He had kept this job till last because he didn't like shopping for clothes.

After Harry finished his sandwich, he went to Twilfitt and Tattings, a chique and classy clothing store where he bought three costumes, four dress robes, three pairs of dress shoes, two pairs of boots and several other garments. Yet the clothing compartment in his trunk was far from filled. Harry also ordered an expensive custom made, full dragon hide clothing set by Pucci. It included a robe, a vest, gloves and boots. He left after paying roughly three hundred galleons and telling the now very happy owners, two good looking women, that he would be back later this week to pick up his Pucci set.

Roughly three hours later, Harry tiredly entered Madam Malkin's for his school uniforms.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts dear?" She asked when she saw Harry coming in.

"Yes Ma'am." Harry sighed.

"Got the lot here — another young man being fitted up just now, in fact." She motioned him to follow her.

In the back of the shop, a blond-haired 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, "First year, too?"

"Yes," said Harry, not really in the mood for a conversation.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy.

"Good for you," Harry replied coldly.

"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 fa ther into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." Continued the boy.

Harry got interested, he had been thinking on the same thing.

"Yeah, flying on a broom sure looks amazing. I wanted to buy and bring my own broom too... We could shrink and hide our brooms, maybe no one will find them." Harry suggested.

"It's a good idea but it won't work, they'll check every student when you enter the castle." The boy groaned.

"Then we ask an older student to take our shrunken brooms inside the castle." Harry smiled.

"Ingenious. Yes, I can arrange that." The boy said approvingly. "I've many connections."

"Play Quidditch at all?" The boy asked dryly.

"I haven't played yet, but I want to be a Chaser." Harry remembered his football matches, he loved to score goals.

"Too bad, I see you have the right build for a Chaser. I'm a Seeker, started playing two years ago. We have a real Quidditch pitch at home. 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?" the boy went on.

"Nope, guess I'll find that out in two months."

"I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been — imagine be ing in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe not leave, but I'd ask for a resorting. I mean, Hufflepuff sounds like an old guy smoking mushrooms or a brand of marshmallows."

The blond boy laughed.

"That's you done, my dear," said Madam Malkin. Harry hopped down from his footstool.

"Well, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express." The boy winked.

"How much uniforms, you wish, dear?" Madam Mallekin asked as they walked to the front of the store.

"Three will be enough, Ma'am," Harry said.

"Three uniforms will be ready in two days, then you can return to pick them up." Madam Mallekin said before she closed the door.

Harry left the store behind him and walked with a grin on his face to Quality Quidditch Supplies. He purchased the fastest broomstick in production, a Nimbus Two Thousand.

A few moments later, Harry was back in his room in the Leaky Cauldron. He did a longer physical workout than usual, read six chapters in Intermediate Transfiguration by Quentin Switch and five chapters in Potion Opuscule by Arsenius Jigger. Then he ordered room service, ate dinner and went to bed.

The next morning, Harry woke up and went downstairs. There was no one yet, even Tom was still in his own room. Harry decided to do his routine run around the block and unlocked the door with a wave with his hand as he thought Alohomora. He stepped into the deserted muggle street, did a few warm-up stretches and began jogging. After the first 5 km he started running with sprint intervals for another 5 km.

"Good Run?" Tom asked with a smile when a sweaty Harry re-entered the Leaky Cauldron. He handed Harry a fresh towel and a glass of ice-cold water.

Harry took the offered glass and downed the water in one go.

"Thanks and yes, -made a good time." Harry replied while he used the towel to wipe the sweat off his face.

"Breakfast will be ready after your shower, as usual." Tom said as he took the glass back.

Harry gave a short nod and went upstairs to take a shower.

After he was fresh and his muscles relaxed, Harry put on clean clothes before he went back to eat his breakfast.

Thirty minutes later, Harry left the Leaky Cauldron with a filled belly. First he went to Flourish and Blotts to add five more interesting books to his collection. Then he bought parchments, quills and ink at Scribbulus Writing Instruments.

Next to the store Harry saw the archway leading into Knockturn Alley. Harry had never been there before and decided to have a look when he heard a sudden cry.

Harry paced quickly around the store and saw a pretty blonde-haired girl on the ground with ripped parchments over and next to her. Two brown-haired and one older black-haired boy were harassing her.

"Hey loonies, pick on someone your own size." Harry said loudly as he started walking to the scene.

The tallest brown-haired boy sneered, "Why you care? She's a Greengrass, they're all evil bastards that are sided with You-Know-Who!" The other brown-haired boy, stomped on the girl's wrist, breaking it with a soft 'knack'. The girl in tears, cried again and begged them to stop.

Harry immediately felt his anger boiling, but forced himself to stay calm and focused.

"Better turn around, nosey kid." The black-haired boy threatened and searched for his wand as he saw Harry move closer.

Harry had his wand ready, swung it swiftly and thought Gravis Corporis, one of the few spells he had learned from Korin.

"You filthy inbred death ea…" The tall brown head shouted at him, but couldn't finish his insult as he found himself abruptly pressed to the ground, by an invisible force. All three of them were now lying flat on the ground, unable to move a finger under the intense gravity. They had never felt anything like it and stared in agony at the messy black-haired boy, who helped the sobbing blonde-haired girl get up. Harry felt her smooth, perfect skin.

Harry turned to the three bullies and said slowly without raising his voice, "Never ever show your ugly faces in front of this girl again." The three boys noticed the frightening icy undertone as Harry spoke and wanted to leave as soon as possible.

Harry decided mercifully to fulfill their wishes, he flicked his wand and thought depulso. The three boys were blown backwards and fell on the ground fifteen meters away. After recovering from the bad landing they ran off with their tails between their legs.

The pretty girl had multiple bruises, a broken nose and wrist. Her lip was swollen, she had blood in her teary face and on her black silk model dress. "Let me fix that for you," Harry said, staring into the girl's piercing bright blue eyes.

The girl whispered confused, "Why did you help me?" Harry smiled warmly at her and joked, "Because saving girls is good for my image." The girl lightened up and looked amused.

Harry concentrated and pointed his wand at her nose and thought Episky. The girl felt a warm pleasant glow and her nose was healed.

"You better let someone have a look at that wrist, I'm not sure on how to heal it and I don't want to make it worse." Harry said after he finished treating her lip and bruises. If there was no blood on the girl, it would look like nothing had happened.

The blonde nodded, she had lost her voice. She had not moved an inch when Harry had healed her and the bright blue eyes never left his emerald green.

Harry saw the torn parchments and the empty ink bottles on the ground. "Here, take mine," Harry said quickly, and handed her his last purchases. The girl looked like she was about to turn him down. "I forgot a bottle of colour-change ink, I will have to go back to the store anyway." Harry made up, to not make the girl feel bad for accepting his things.

Two worried adults with stylish and expensive clothes ran quickly to the two eleven year old wizards as Harry thought Tergeo. Harry put away his wand in his the left inner jacket pocket. Both now even more terrified parents saw the blood and dust disappear from their eldest daughter.

"Daphne…"

"Daphne, what happened to you? Are you alright?" A stunning blonde model asked with a soft voice as she hugged her daughter tightly. It was clear where the girl had her beauty from.

"Did someone hurt you, Daphne?" A tall wise looking man asked concerned after he had quickly observed the scene.

It was obvious the black-haired boy had used healing spells before using the specific cleaning spell. The boy looked the same age as his daughter, how could he have performed healing magic, even for educated adults, learning the simpler healing spells required good tutoring and a lot of practice. Then the fact, about the boy performing the spells nonverbally, hit him.

Mr. Greengrass wanted to pay a closer look to the unusual boy when he noticed the torn parchments, broken ink bottles and spilled ink on the ground. Who's things were that? He wondered as he saw his daughter holding her parchments and five ink bottles.

For a moment, the blonde girl stayed silent, glad her parents found her.

Suddenly she freed herself from her mother's arms and walked graciously to Harry.

"Daphne ?" Her mother asked hesitant while her dad was eying her closely.

"Thank you for saving me, Harry Potter." She said with her sweet voice. "My name is Daphne, Daphne Greengrass." She blushed as she gave Harry a peck on his left cheek.

Both her parent's eyes widened. Her mother's watery blue eyes were twinkling, a single tear ran down her face.

Harry touched the spot on his cheek where Daphne had swiftly kissed him, looking puzzled, as though he was not quite sure what had just happened.

Daphne hurried back to her parents, took their hands and drove them away. She didn't want to upset Harry with the hundreds of questions her parents held. She knew her parents, they would release a questionfire at him till the next day.

"What? …. Daphne!" Her father exclaimed when she pulled him away.

"Daphne, where are we going?" Mrs. Greengrass asked surprised.

"This is very impolite and disrespectful to Mr. Potter" Mr. Greengrass raised his voice. "Don't forget who you are, Miss Greengrass."

It is considered impolite and arrogant to meet someone and not introduce yourself. However in Pureblood families, it is Tradition and a courtesy for members of the least old family to introduce themselves first, before a member of an older family. Breaking this code, or not introducing yourself at all, results in a extremely bad reflection on the whole family name.

"Yes dear, your father and I haven't properly introduced ourselves." Mrs. Greengrass said, ashamed. Yet she knew why her daughter wanted them to walk away and had to hide a smile.

"And he looked so handsome but lonely." Mrs. Greengrass added worried. "I wonder where he lives."

Arghh, sometimes they should hear themselves, Daphne thought to herself. Her parents could be strict and stubborn but never for long and they always had a good reason. She loved them and her sister a lot.

"Dad, mom, I know I shouldn't have dragged you away." Daphne said after they apparated home. She felt a bit guilty as she didn't like breaking the family Traditions either.

"It's nothing much dear, we'll see him again and I'm sure he understands," Mrs. Greengrass said softly, comforting her daughter.

"Well, I hope I meet him again soon, looks like an interesting lad." Mr. Greengrass said, some excitement was noticeable in his voice.

"Now tell us dear, what happened before we arrived?" Mrs. Greengrass asked concerned.

"Let me heal your broken wrist first," Mr. Greengrass said as he saw his daughter had problems moving her right wrist.

After Daphne's wrist was completely healed, she started explaining what had happened to her. "When I left Scribbulus' this morning, three boys started bullying me. One third year and two first years, they kept harassing me and destroyed the things I had bought."

"That's terrible, you know who they were ?!" Mrs. Greengrass yelled, she'd personally pay a visit to those boys and hex them into oblivion.

Mrs. Greengrass held her hands on her husband's to calm him down as colourful sparks came out of the top of his wand and his face turned purple.

"Charles, honey, calm down and let her continue, I want to know what else happened." Mrs. Greengrass said slowly as her husband restrained himself.

"No, I have never seen those idiots before, but they probably won't bother me again." Daphne said with a grin, and went on, "After those bullies ruined my quills, parchments and ink they threw me on the ground and started hitting me. They broke my nose and wrist."

She paused briefly to drink some water. Her parents listened horrified, and tried their best not to interrupt their daughter.

"Somehow Harry came looking around the corner, maybe because he heard my cry, and he quickly saved me. First he walked up to the three boys and performed a powerful spell, I had never seen before. It kept them flat on the ground and prevented them from moving. Then he warned them, to never come near me again and used a banishment charm to blow them away. After the bullies ran off, he treated my bruises and healed my nose. When you arrived, you saw, he cleared the blood and dirt." Daphne explained, she knew it was better to tell her parents the complete story, they would find it all out anyway.

Mr. and Mrs. Greengrass were staring anxiously at each other. They thought about what could have happened if Harry Potter didn't show up. They also remarked their daughter was using the boy's first name.

Greengrass mansion went quiet for a moment.

"And those are Harry's purchases from Scribbulus' ," Daphne pointed at the things on the kitchen table. "He insisted on me taking them."

"Daphne, it seems you've found yourself a very noble friend." Mr. Greengrass said.

"Mr. Potter sure is something, dear." Mrs. Greengrass teased and winked at her blushing daughter.

In the noisy Leaky Cauldron Harry was eating his lunch while reading Advanced duel techniques by Markus Neventon. There were a lot of people inside the pub but no one noticed Harry sitting in the corner. The crowd was too busy singing while two drunk men danced on a table in the center of the room.

After the Greengrass family had left, Harry had bought a new set of writing items for school. He went to Quality Quidditch Supplies to buy a broomstick servicing kit and special water-resistant Quidditch gloves.

Harry went back to the Leaky Cauldron as his stomach demanded for lunch. He had decided not to think much on the events of this morning. He was sure he'd meet the Greengrass family again in the future.

When Harry was done eating, he finished the chapter in his book and then took off to Knockturn Alley.

He stopped at Borgin and Burkes to buy seven more books about the dark arts. Harry figured, the more magic he knew, the better.

After passing several closed stores, Harry entered a building with dark windows and a broken sign, that said Bazar. He saw various antique objects as he slowly walked through the store. He stopped before a glass closet filled with skulls of different kinds of animals.

Suddenly green flames lighted up the room and an old man with an out of the ordinary yellow robe, a long beard and a pipe in his mouth stepped out of the fireplace.

"Hullo m'boy, I was upstairs making room for new deliveries. Welcome to my bazar." The old man said as he made his way to Harry.

"Sir, you use the Floo-network for going upstairs and downstairs?" Harry asked actively.

"Yop Yop, that's right m'boy, time is money… time is money." The old man exhaled and a lot of grey smoke came out of his nostrils.

"Sir, could I try it once? I've never done it before…" Harry asked eagerly.

"Of course m'boy, just go with the floww." The old man grinned and guided Harry to the fireplace.

The old man proposed to show him first how travelling with Floo-powder was done and Harry heard a last tip, "Speak clearly m'boy" before the man completely disappeared.

Now it was Harry's turn, he advanced forward in the fireplace, and shouted "bazar floor two !"

On the second floor the old man was waiting for him. He laughed loudly when Harry flew out and crashed onto the floor.

"Try it again m'boy," The old man said, entertained by the young wizard. "Start walking when you see green flames, don't stand still or you'll come out flying."

Two hours later an exhausted Harry stepped back into Knockturn Alley, the old man waved him off. Harry had perfected travelling with the Floo-network and came out the fireplaces walking fluently. The happy old man had rewarded the young wizard with an extensive tour around his rather odd four story store.