A year in the life of Harry Potter
Chapter 23: August, 19
"Enter," Severus said as he heard a knock on his study door.
"Hi," Harry said as he half-entered. "I have a question."
"Ask and I'll answer as good as I can," Severus said, closing the boo he'd just been looking at. He put it back in the shelf.
"Is it - is it true that you were - or are - one of Voldemort's followers? And is it - was it partially your fault that - that my parents were - were killed?"
Severus sat down on his chair behind his desk. For a few moments he didn't answer, sitting there in silent. "Yes," he finally said, his voice shaking. "Yes. Both questions are right." He looked up, but Harry had already gone out of the room.
"Oh, you're so going to love it!" Quentin said as they entered the tube station. She had changed her hair colour to a light brown and her eyes were deep blue. Harry could hardly recognise her. They could have gone via the floo network or by apparition, but Severus had said that it would be best if they travelled the muggle way.
"I'll see it in a sort while," Harry said, though he couldn't wait until he did.
"Here are your tickets," Severus said after he had paid for them. "See ya later."
"Where does he go?" Harry asked irritated as he watched him disappear in the crowd.
"It would be a bit obvious if we would go everywhere like a family," Lucy said, "when Severus isn't supposed to be married."
Half an hour later - it seemed like a decade to both Quentin and Harry - they were at the Leaky Cauldron.
"Didn't you say we'd go to a shopping street?!" Harry exclaimed, looking at the pub.
Quentin giggled. "We have to hide our secrets," she whispered into his ear as she opened the door. "You will see any moment how we hid this."
Still confused Harry entered the pub after her.
There were gasps.
"It's him!" an old lady whispered, pointing at Harry. "It's the Boy-Who-Lived!"
"I - I can't believe I'm meeting you, Mr. Harry Potter," a man said shaking Harry's hand. His voice was shaking with nervousness and disbelieve. "is it really you, Mr. Harry Potter?"
"Y-yes," Harry stammered, shocked at the people's behaviour. He had known that he was famous, but this famous?
"Well, well, well," another man man said, smiling toothless smile. He had a nearly bold head and sunken-in face. "Quentin Wintergarten brings Harry Potter to my pub. Who'd have thought that? And Lucy is here too!"
Quentin grinned, putting her arm around Harry's neck. "'Tis my new little brother, you know?"
A second witch gasped. "But - but - that's impossible! Many people tried to adopt him, but all failed because of Professor Dumbledore! How did you succeed?"
Before Lucy could answer a tall middle-aged man wearing a turban appeared.
"Q-Qu-Quirrel," he stammered, shaking Harry's hand excitedly. "P-Professor Q-Quirrel. I will b-be your DADA t-teacher in the f-following year, M-Mr. Potter. P-Pleased to meet you."
Harry muttered something under his breath, not understanding a word - except that this man was going to be one of his teachers the coming year - from what the man had said.
"C'mon," Quentin said, shoving Harry to the back of the pub. They exited it.
"What are we doing here?" Harry asked, still in shock from the greetings he'd received inside. "Here's nothing but a stone wall and a rubbish bin."
"That's what you think," Lucy smiled, getting her wand out. With it she touched various brick stones of the wall. Harry watched her in irritation. A moment later the wall split into two and gave the way free.
"Whoa," Harry gasped as he stepped into the shopping street. It was as if he had left Planet Earth and gone to a new world - which he actually had.
"This, my dear brother, is Diagon Alley!" Quentin said dramatically.
"First of all we go to Gringotts," Lucy said, pointing at an enormous building at the other end of the street. "That's the wizarding bank, led by goblins."
"Goblins?!"
"Yes, Harry. Here in the magical world we have some very strange creatures."
"Although your parents left you quite a fortune," Lucy said, "Severus and I both agreed that, as you are our adopted son, we will pay for your school things."
"You got your letter?" Quentin asked.
"Yeah," Harry said, pulling the envelope from Hogwarts out of his trouser pocket. She had told him to bring it.
"The second page should be a list of all the things you need," she continued as they walked towards Gringotts.
Fifteen minutes, a few conversations, a wild ride and some explanations to Hary regarding the magical money later they could start their shopping.
"I think you and Harry should get his wand first," Quentin said, looking at the pet shop. "I need to get something done."
Lucy nodded knowingly. "Come on, Harry," she said. "Ollivander makes the best wands here in Britain, he's sue to find one for you."
And she was right. Although it took some time they did find one.
"Here," Ollivander whispered loudly, taking another box containing a wand from his endless shelves. However, he seemed to be even more careful with that one. "Try this one. 11 inches, made of holly and contains a phoenix feather."
Harry took the wand, trying to handle it with as much care as Ollivander had. Suddenly there was a bright light surrounding him, but then it faded away.
Ollivander looked at him, somehow relieved and frightened. "We can expect great things from you," he said. "For this wand has a brother. The brother belongs to who once was the most evil wizard in the magical world."
"You don't mean," Lucy gasped.
"Yes, ma'am, I do," Ollivander said gloomily. "Its brother belongs to You-Know-Who."
Suddenly the door opened and loud screams of an owl could be heard.
"Bring that beast out of my shop!" Ollivander cried.
"Sorry," Quentin muttered. "Here, Harry," she said. "A late birthday present for you. It was the best owl I could find - snow owl called Hedwig."
Harry smiled broadly. "Thanks," he said, taking the cage in which the owl was.
Lucy paid for the wand and they proceeded to the book shop.
"You can each decide on a book you want to read on the train ride," Lucy said as she went off to get the school books.
"Any books you would suggest?" Harry asked as they walked along the shelves.
"Fantastic beasts and where to find them, perhaps," she said. "It would give you an insight on some of the beasts we have in the magical world." Harry nodded in reply.
"What are you getting?" he asked.
"A book on legillimency maybe. Daddy won't teach me, so I have to teach myself. Oh, yeah. You don't know. It's kinda like mind-reading. Occlumency is shielding your mind from people entering and legillimency is going into their minds."
"Then I would strongly advice your mother not to buy you that book," a voice behind them said.
"D- Professor Snape!" Quentin exclaimed.
"For I think that your father had reasons not to teach you,"Severus continued. "In my opinion you should stick to Fantastic beasts and where to find them, like Mr. Potter here. Maybe then you would finally become better at school knowing that the Kappa is a Japanese water demon and not a Chinese fire god."
Quentin blushed. "That was in my first year!" she said.
"As it was in your second, and it will also be in your third and every other year until you leave school. So take my advice." A moment later he had disappeared.
"Does he always do that?" Harry asked after a moment of silence. "Put you down like that, I mean?"
"Professor Snape? Yeah." Harry's heart ached seeing the pain in her eyes at calling her father Professor instead of Daddy. He already loathed Dumbledore.
After they finished their shopping they went out through the Leaky Cauldron (Harry had to shake many hands) and back to the tube station.
"...And from your third year onwards," Quentin told Harry, "you can go to the village on some weekends, Harry. Harry? Harry!" She looked around frantically, but the boy was not to be seen anywhere. "Mummy! Harry's gone!"
"What?!"
"He was here one moment and gone the next!" Quentin cried. She saw her father in the distance and ran over to him.
"Quentin, you know -" he started, but his daughter cut him off.
"Daddy, Harry's gone!"
Harry looked at the roll on his open palm. "Do I have to?" he asked, grimacing.
"Do it or we won't take you in," a bulky seventeen-year-old boy said. He and his friends - four other thugs - began to chant. "Chicken, chicken, chicken!"
Harry put the roll in his mouth and took the lighter one of the other boys gave him. He lit the roll, sucked at it and breathed smoke out. He coughed. Then he smelled the smoke and exclaimed, "Hemp!"
"Little expert we have here," the first boy smirked. "We can use you."