The Letters and Diagon Alley

The following morning, I was let out and the whole incident seemed forgotten. Well, mostly forgotten, as Dudley acted like I was a bomb that was about to go off. I ignored it. Mrs. Figg later offered to watch me while they ran some errands and then she thanked me for the get-well card I'd made out of crayons and bits of colored paper. A week later, Dudley's school uniform for Smeltings came in the mail and while my Aunt and Uncle were drooling over him yet again, I had to try not to laugh as he looked beyond ridiculous in that getup. Thankfully, I was just going to the local public school, so I wouldn't have to wear that outfit.

I went to retrieve the post. There were a few bills, some coupons, a postcard from my Uncle's sister Marge, and a letter to me. That was strange as I usually never got mail from anyone. But the strangest thing was the wax seal and crest and the address on the back on the envelope.

Miss. H. Potter

Number 4, Privet Drive

Cupboard under the stairs

My cupboard was on the address. How on earth had the sender known where I slept? Goosebumps broke out on my skin. Was I being watched? I let it slide as I gave Uncle Vernon the other mail and tried to open my letter only to have it snatched away by Dudley.

"Hey, give it back, that's mine!" I shouted.

"Yours?" Uncle Vernon sneered. "Who'd be writing to you?"

But then he and Aunt Petunia saw the seal and crest and turned pale. They then ordered me and Dudley out of the kitchen and talked behind a locked door before they came out and made an announcement. I was going to have Dudley's second bedroom as my cupboard was too small for me anymore. I was grateful and surprised, but also suspicious. I thanked them, but when I asked about my letter, I was told it had been a mistake and not to ask further questions. Out of habit, I didn't pry further, even though I wanted to.

Over the next several days, countless letters to me came pouring in. Five or six came through the letterbox on a daily basis by owl and some managed to be cramped into the eggs Aunt Petunia bought. Uncle Vernon ended up boarding up the letterbox and went on burning each and every one of my letters. I couldn't even sneak one to learn what this nonsense was all about. Who'd want to write to me this badly?

Finally, the letters seemed to stop coming. One Sunday afternoon, we were all sitting the living room, well, I was passing around tea and cookies as I was practically their servant. Uncle Vernon was practically bursting with joy.

"Fine day, Sunday," he said. "In my opinion, the best day of the week. Why is that, Dudley?"

Dudley just shrugged and then I gave the right answer, "Because there's no post on Sundays?"

"Right you are, Helena!" he said, as he took a cookie off of the plate and started rambling. "No post on Sundays! Not one single letter, not one! No, sir!"

I looked out the window when I saw something fly by. My eyes widened when I saw that there were dozens, if not a hundred, owls of all different breeds. Oh, no! Just then, a letter came zooming down the chimney and it was followed by countless more that came down like a rain that never ceased. Trying to take advantage of the situation, I got onto the coffee table managed to grab one of the letters. I then ran for it and tried to escape Uncle Vernon, but he grabbed me and yanked the letter out of my hand.

"Get off!" I yelled, as I tried to free myself. "There're my letters! Let go of me!"

Dozens more then burst through the letterbox and hit Uncle Vernon in the face. "That's it! We're going away! Far away! Where they can't find us!"

"Daddy's gone mad, hasn't he?" said Dudley, gazing at Aunt Petunia, who didn't reply.

We packed up everything we could into a few duffle bags and headed out. We stayed at a hotel for the night and then Uncle Vernon paid for a ride to a dismal hut on a rock in the middle of the sea. Our food supplies were minimal, just some bananas and chips, and our fire was nonexistent. To make things even more perfect, (sarcastic), there was very little room in the hut. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia took the bed on the second floor and Dudley got the couch while I got the hard floor and the thinnest most ragged blanket.

That night, I didn't sleep well. I had a nightmare and when I woke up, I hugged Snuffles close to me as I remembered that I was going to be eleven years old at the stroke of midnight. My birthdays had always been ignored, I was used to it, but for some reason, I felt that this birthday was meant to be special and that brought tears to my eyes. I drew a cake in the dirt and wrote the words, Happy Birthday Helena, before I sat up a little straighter. I checked my watch and when it read midnight, I whispered, "Make a wish, Helena," and blew on the candles. I wish there was someone who would come and take me away from here.

No sooner had I made this wish, than something began pounding on the door. It woke up the Dursleys and startled me as I hid on the other side of the fireplace and Uncle Vernon came down with a rifle. After a few more poundings, the door fell down and a giant man with a heavy coat and huge beard came in.

"Sorry about that," he said, as he picked up the door and put it back.

"I demand that you leave at once, sir! You are breaking and entering!" said Uncle Vernon.

The giant just glared at him and actually bent the rifle. "Dry up Dursley, you great prune," he snarled. Then he looked around the room. "Where's Helena Potter?"

Timidly, I stepped out of my hiding place, still clutching Snuffles to my chest. "I'm right here, sir."

"Ah, no need to call me 'sir,' Helena," he said, chuckling. "Boy, I haven't seen you since you were a baby, Helena, but you're as pretty as your mother was at your age. You look a bit like your dad, but you've got her smile and her eyes." He reached into his pocket and handed me a box. "I've got something for you. Afraid I might've sat on it at some point, but I imagine it'll taste fine just the same."

I put Snuffles under my arm and opened the box. It was a chocolate cake with pink and green icing. The words read, Happee Birthdae Helena. I was both surprised and touched. I'd never had a birthday cake in my life. "Thank you."

"Not everyday your young girl turns eleven, now is it?" he said, chuckling. He sat down on the couch and beckoned for me to join him, which I did and then he placed a warm blanket on me before he aimed his pink umbrella at the fireplace and then sparks shot out of it as a fire got going.

"Excuse me, but who are you?" I asked.

"Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts," he said, proudly. "Of course, you know all about Hogwarts."

I shook my head. "Sorry, no. What's Hogwarts?"

He stared at me. "'What's Hogwarts'? Blimey, Helena, didn't you ever wonder where your mum and dad learned it all?"

"Learned what?"

"You're a witch, Helena."

My jaw dropped. "I'm a what?"

"A witch. And a thumping good one, I'd wager. Once you're trained up a little."

I shook my head. It couldn't be true. "No, you've made a mistake. I can't be a witch. I mean, I'm just Helena. Just Helena."

"Well, Just Helena, did you ever make anything happen? Anything you couldn't explain when you were angry or scared?"

I stared before I remembered several events. I'd always managed to escape Dudley's gang when they chased me and then the vanishing glass incident at the zoo…oh, heavens above. I was a witch! Hagrid must've noticed my look because he handed me another copy of the letter I hadn't been able to read until now. I opened it and read it aloud.

"'Dear Miss Potter,

"'We are pleased to inform you that you've been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'"

"She'll not be going, I tell you!" said Uncle Vernon, furiously. "We swore when we took her in that we'd put a stop to all this rubbish!"

I was so angry I almost couldn't speak. "You knew? You knew all along and you never told me?"

"Of course we knew!" spat Aunt Petunia. "How could you not be? My perfect sister being who she was! My mother and father were so proud the day she got her letter! 'We have a witch in the family. Isn't it wonderful?' I was the only one to see her for what she was, a freak!"

"Don't you dare call my mother a freak, you old rat!" I yelled.

Aunt Petunia ignored me. "And then she met that Potter and then she had you and I knew you'd be just as strange, just as abnormal. And then if you please, she went and got herself blown up, and we got landed with you!"

"Blown up?" I shouted, furious. "You told me my parents died in a car crash!"

Hagrid looked equally furious. "A car crash? A car crash kill Lily and James Potter? It's an outrage! It's a scandal!"

"She will not be going!" said Uncle Vernon.

"Oh, and I suppose a great Muggle like yourself is going to stop her, are you?" said Hagrid, mockingly.

"Muggle?" I asked, confused.

"Non-magic folk," he explained, before turning back to them. "This girl's had her name down ever since she were born! She's going to the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world and she'll be under the finest Headmaster that Hogwarts has ever seen, Albus Dumbledore!"

"I'll not pay to have some crackpot old fool teach her magic tricks!" said Uncle Vernon.

Hagrid then looked dangerously angry as he pointed his umbrella at them. "Never insult Albus Dumbledore in front of me," he growled. He then pointed his umbrella at Dudley and then Dudley suddenly sprouted a pig's tail. I burst out laughing while the Dursleys began panicking and freaking.

Hagrid checked his watch. "Well, best be off. Lots to do. Are you coming, Helena?"

"Of course," I said. I put on my thin jacket, grabbed my cake and held Snuffles tight as I followed him out of the hut and into the world.

Hagrid and I became fast friends.

He told me all about Hogwarts and how he'd lived there since he was thirteen and he'd been expelled. He didn't say why he was expelled, but mentioned that he'd always wanted a pet dragon of his own. He laughed at all my jokes and I told him about small stuff I'd always wanted to talk about but never could until now. We stopped at an inn for the night and then split my birthday cake together, before finally going to sleep.

In the morning, we headed to London and I read aloud my school supplies list. There was quite a bit on the list such as robes, books, potion supplies, a cauldron, and much more. I didn't see any kind of shops that sold this stuff. Where was it? "Hagrid, can we really find all of this in London?" I asked.

"If you know where to go," said Hagrid. He led me to a place called the Leaky Cauldron that no one else seemed to notice and then we went in. It was a pub filled with a bit of music and noisy customers.

"Ah, Hagrid, usual I presume?" asked the barman.

"No thanks, Tom. I'm on official Hogwarts business." Hagrid affectionately patted my shoulder. "Just helping young Helena here buy her school supplies."

"Bless my soul," said Tom, sounding both surprised and happy. "It's Helena Potter!"

My eyes widened as the entire bar went silent at the mention of my name. People then started coming up to me and shook my free hand that wasn't holding Snuffles. They kept saying stuff like "Welcome back," and "I can't believe I'm meeting you at last." I just kept murmuring "How-do-you-do?" and "Nice to meet you." I couldn't believe it. These people knew me. I was famous. But how? Why?

Then a man in purple robes and a purple turban came up to me. "H-H-Helena P-P-Potter. C-C-Can't t-tell h-how p-please I am to meet you."

"Hello, Professor, didn't see you there," said Hagrid. "Helena, this is Professor Quirrell. He'll be your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts."

"Oh, nice to meet you," I said, offering my hand, but he didn't take it.

"F-fascinating subject," he stuttered. "N-not that you n-need it, e-e-eh, P-P-Potter?"

What was that supposed to mean? I was about to ask, but Hagrid patted shoulder again. "Well, we'd best be off. Lots to buy."

"Good-bye, Professor," I said, as I followed Hagrid to a back room. We came up to a brick wall.

"See, Helena, you're famous."

"But why am I famous, Hagrid?" I asked. "All those people back there, how is that they know who I am?"

Hagrid looked solemn. "I'm not sure I'm exactly the right person to tell you that, Helena." He then tapped some bricks and the wall split in two and reveal a huge shopping area. "Welcome, Helena, to Diagon Alley."

"It's amazing," I murmured.

There were dozens of beautiful shops with fantastic things in the windows. It took me a moment to tear my eyes off it all, especially when I saw a handsome broom called the Nimbus 2000 in a broomstick shop. My excitement turned to worry when I realized that I had no way to pay for my things. "Hagrid, how am I going to pay for any of this?" I asked. "I haven't any money."

"Well, there's your money, Helena," he said, pointing a towering white building. "Gringotts, Wizards' Bank. Ain't no safer place, no one, except perhaps Hogwarts." I was a bit relieved as we entered the marble building filled with dusty chandeliers and dozens of creepy-looking goblins. I held Hagrid's hand, remembering what he said about goblins being unfriendly and tricksters, and he gently squeezed it. We went up to the main desk where a goblin with half-moon glasses peered at us.

"Miss Helena Potter wishes to make a withdrawal," said Hagrid.

"And does Miss Helena Potter have her key?" he asked.

"It's right here," said Hagrid, pulling out a small gold key from his pocket. Then he pulled out a letter. "Professor Dumbledore gave me this. It's about You-Know-What in Vault You-Know-Which."

I frowned in confusion and wondered why Hagrid wasn't telling me what was going on, but didn't ask as the goblin read the letter and then summoned another goblin called Griphook to take us down to my vault. The car was disturbingly fast and even Hagrid looked ill. We reached my vault and I was shocked by the contents. Enormous piles of gold Galleons, silver Sickles and bronze Knuts. My parents had left all this to me?

After gathering much of the money, we went down to Vault 713 and Hagrid couldn't tell me what was inside because it was Hogwarts business, very secret. I didn't know what to expect, but the fact that it was just some small thing wrapped in brown paper, was a bit disappointing. Hagrid had said that the only safer place besides Gringotts was Hogwarts, so whatever the little package was, would most likely be safer there.

We went on with the rest of my shopping and it was quite fun. Every single shop was fascinating to me, probably because this was my first trip to the world where I belonged. A few hours later, I only had one thing left on my list.

"I still need a wand," I said, after examining my list.

"A wand?" said Hagrid. "Well, you'll want Olivanders, ain't no place better. Go pop in and then wait for me while I go check on something."

"Okay."

We parted, but then I realized that I'd gotten lost and then seconds later, I bumped into something or rather, someone, and dropped all my things.

"Oof!"

"Ow!"

"Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't see you," said a boy. "Here, let me help you."

"No, it's my fault. I should've been more careful," I said. Then I saw his face. He looked about thirteen and looked incredibly handsome with his dark brown hair, grey eyes and fine features. "Hi."

"Hi," he said. "Oh, forgive me. My name's Cedric. Cedric Diggory."

"I'm Helena. Helena Potter."

His eyes widened. "Helena Potter?" he repeated, as we picked up my packages. "Wow. It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too," I said, as we shook hands.

"First year at Hogwarts?" he asked.

"Yes, it is. I'm really looking forward to it. What about you? What year are you in?"

"I'm starting my third year. I'm in Hufflepuff."

"Cool."

"So, where're you headed? Who's shopping with you?"

"I'm headed to Olivanders to buy my wand and then I've got to wait for Hagrid."

"The gamekeeper?" he said. "Cool. Wish I had someone like that with me. My parents are great and all, but they're a bit ambitious for me and a bit protective."

I chuckled. "Well, it could be worse." I bit my lip in embarrassment. "Cedric, I'm kind of lost. Could you—?"

"Sure," he said. "Just follow me."

"Thank you."

He took me down to Olivanders. "Well, I've got to go meet my parents, but I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks again."

"Oh, Helena," he said, before I went in. "If you don't mind, could I have you address so I can write to you? You can have mine."

"I'd love to," I said.

We exchanged addresses and then waved good-bye. I felt pleased and happy. I actually gained a friend close to my age for the first time in my life. I went into the shop and placed my things on a chair.

"Hello?" I said, when I didn't see anyone. "Hello?"

Then a creepy and gentle-looking man appeared out of nowhere. He smiled when he saw me. "I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Miss Potter." He began going through some boxes. "It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands. Ah." He pulled out a wand from one of the many boxes off the shelf and handed it to me. "Ten and a quarter inches, unicorn tail hair, swishy, made of willow, and quite nice for Charm work."

I waved it slightly, but it made dozens of other boxes fly off the shelf. "Sorry," I said, as I put it down.

"Don't worry about it. Try this one. Twelve inches, beech, dragon heartstring, excellent for Transfiguration."

But the next wand proved to be just as bad a choice as the previous one and so did the next six until he pulled out another box. "Eleven inches, holly and phoenix feather," he said. "Try it out."

After a moment's hesitation, I did, and gold sparks and a gust of wind came out of it. I was surprised, but not quite as much as Olivander was. "Curious," he murmured. "Very curious."

"Pardon me, but what's curious?" I asked.

"I remember every wand I ever sold, Miss Potter. It just so happens that the phoenix, whose tail feather resides in your wand, gave another feather, just one other. It's curious that you should be destined for this wand when its sibling gave you that scar."

My heart skipped a beat. The maniac who'd killed my parents, had given me my scar? "And who owned that wand?"

"We do not speak his name," said Olivander, in a hushed tone. "The wand chooses the witch or wizard, Miss Potter. It's not always clear, why. But I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things, terrible, but great."

I swallowed painfully as I paid for my wand, but then my face lit up when Hagrid tapped on the window. "Helena, Happy Birthday!" My present was a beautiful snowy white owl. I was so shocked, I almost couldn't speak, but then I managed a "thank you" before we headed back.

I was quiet at dinner. I couldn't stop thinking about everything that'd happened in the last twenty-four hours. Part of me was worried about how'd I do in my future, and the other part of me was thinking about my parents and what Olivander had said.

"Are you alright, Helena?" asked Hagrid. "You seem a bit quiet."

I hesitated, but then asked, "He killed my parents, didn't he? The one who gave me my scar?" When Hagrid was silent, I went on. "You know, Hagrid. I know you do. Please, tell me. I need to know."

Hagrid sighed and put down his bite of food. "First, and understand this Helena, because it's very important. Not all wizards are good. Some of them go bad. And a few years ago, there was one who went as bad as you can, though. And his name was V-…his name was V…."

"Maybe if you wrote it down?"

"No, I can't spell it. Alright, Voldemort," he whispered.

"Voldemort?" I repeated.

"Shh!" he said. "It was dark times, Helena, dark times. Voldemort started gathering some followers, brought them over to the Dark Side. Anyone who stood up against him ended up dead. Your parents fought against him. But no one lived once he decided to kill them, nobody, not one, except you."

"Me?" I repeated. "Voldemort tried to kill me?"

"Yes. That ain't no ordinary cut on your forehead, Helena. A mark like that only comes from being touched by a curse and an evil curse at that."

"What happened to You-Know-Who?"

"Some say he died. Codswallop in my opinion. No, I reckon he's still out there, too tired to carry on. But one thing's absolutely certain. Something about you stumped him that night. That's why you're famous. That's why everyone knows your name. You're the Girl Who Lived."

My throat tightened as I thought of something. "Hagrid, is it my fault my parents died?"

"Your fault? Goodness me, no!" he said, looking shocked at this. "Where'd you get such an idea? Helena, it's not your fault. It's You-Know-Who's fault. Don't ever blame yourself for what happened, not for one minute. Your parents loved you and you didn't do anything wrong."

"Thanks," I said, as he squeezed my hand.

He smiled and then we slept at Leaky Cauldron for the night before he gave me my train ticket and then took me back to Privet Drive for the remainder of the summer.