Disclaimer: Although J.K. Rowling and I share many aspects in our series (We both have sentences, words, paragraphs, etc.), I do not own any part of her success.

Chapter Two: Disaster in Diagon Alley

Autumn was fast approaching. The days were getting shorter; the nights, cooler. For the first time in his life, James was actually excited that summer was almost over.

One morning he woke up, the daily smell of his mother's baking wafting through the house. He slid down the banisters into the kitchen, but was shocked to find that his father was sitting at the kitchen table.

"Dad, won't you be late for work?" James asked, as Mrs. Potter dumped several fried eggs onto his plate.

"Well, the Auror Office decided that it might be best if I put in less hours," Mr. Potter said.

James stared at him, "Since when?" he said, quietly.

Mr. Potter sighed, knowing his son was smart enough to see through him, "For about two weeks, now."

James nodded slowly, "You've been sacked because I threw those Dungbombs?"

"No," Mr. Potter said quickly, "No, I have way too many years and way too much experience for the Auror Office to sack me. They can't even discharge me from my battalion. However, I won't be working as much; at least not on the front line."

Mrs. Potter was now adding sausage to the plates, "Well, I for one think it's a good thing that you're not going to be in danger, everyday."

For a moment, James sat in silence. Finally he said, "But, we're okay financially, right? I mean, we have plenty of money."

Mr. Potter nodded, "It's true. We Potters' are immensely wealthy. In fact, I probably don't have to work at all. However, I'm an Auror because I want to try and end this war before it begins."

James nodded, understanding.

"James, dear," Mrs. Potter said, "I was thinking today would be a good day to go to Diagon Alley."

James looked up, his spirits rising.

"We've got your school supply list, and I need to pick up a few things as well," Mrs. Potter went on.

"Can we go to Gambol and Japes?" James asked, excitedly.

Mrs. Potter laughed, "We need to focus on getting your supplies first. Then, afterwards, we might be able to stop at the joke shop."

James grinned.

After breakfast, the three went down to the den, where the main fireplace was.

"I'll go first, shall I?" Mr. Potter said. He was coming with them to Diagon Alley. This was rare, as he was usually on missions.

He took down an ornate vase off of the mantelpiece, and grabbed a handful of powder from inside it.

He then ducked inside the hearth.

"Diagon Alley," he said, clearly, dropping the powder. There was a rush of green flames, and he was gone.

"Now James, remember to keep your arms to your side and speak very clearly," Mrs. Potter started.

"Mum," James groaned, "Everybody knows how to use Floo Powder!"

"Alright dear," Mrs. Potter said, anxiously.

James stepped over the grate and took a handful of powder.

"Diagon Alley!"

There was a roar of green flames and James suddenly found himself spinning very fast. The whirling green was making James seasick. He wanted to close his eyes, but knew that he had to keep them opened. Then, just when he thought that he couldn't take it anymore, he zoomed out of another grate, onto a hard, dusty, floor.

Coughing out ash, James looked up, seeing his father's smiling face.

"There you go," Mr. Potter said, helping him up.

James saw that he was in the Leaky Cauldron. Tom, the old barman, nodded a greeting to him.

Mr. Potter brushed the soot off, "So, what'd you think?"

"I think I prefer brooms," James choked.

His dad chuckled just as Mrs. Potter whirled out of the fire.

"How'd you do dear?" she asked James, kindly.

"Err…" James reddened, but Mr. Potter clapped a hand on his shoulder saying,

"He did just fine."

Still pink in the face, James followed his parents out into a small, dusty courtyard.

"Three up, two across," he recited, watching his father tap certain bricks with his wand.

The back wall quivered and the slowly split open to reveal a large, winding, cobblestone street on which there were many different kinds of stores.

"Wow," James whispered. Even though he had been to Diagon Alley before, the pure sight of it still amazed him. He spun around, taking in all of the shops at once. Madam Malkin's Robes for All; The Apothecary; Ollivanders; Eeylops Owl Emporium.

"Can we go to Ollivanders first?" James begged.

His parents agreed and James rushed off to the small, dusty, wand shop.

Upon entering, he saw that the walls were lined with narrow boxes that reached the ceiling.

"Hello?" Mr. Potter called, importantly.

"Good morning," a misty voice came out, "Ah, Mr. Potter. I suppose you are here to get your wand?"

Mr. Ollivander came out from the back. He had wild, white, hair and large, shining, eyes.

James nodded, firmly.

"Very good," Mr. Ollivander whispered. He flicked his own wand and a tape-measurer appeared, taking James's measurements.

"Now then, Mr. Potter, try this one: Holly and Unicorn hair. 12 ½ inches. Springy!"

He handed it to James, who waved it rather clumsily. The wand shot out of his hand, narrowly missing his parents.

"I suppose not," Mr. Ollivander said, bustling over to the boxes, "No matter, no matter. Let me see, here. Ah! Ash and Dragon Heartstring. 10 ¼ inches. Swishy."

James waved again and several lights overhead exploded.

"Not to worry!" Mr. Ollivander called over the popping, "We've had worse! Third time's the charm, I always say! Mahogany and Phoenix Feather. 11 inches even. Pliable."

James raised the wand. A warm, happy, feeling seared through his body. Red and gold sparks shot out of the end of the wand. His parents clapped, approvingly.

"Well done, James!" Mr. Potter boomed.

Mrs. Potter took out her handbag and paid Ollivander.

Meanwhile, without waiting for his parents, James ran outside, looking for things to jinx.

He waved his wand, excitedly. Nearby, a tall pile of cauldrons collapsed. Horrified, James looked around and ran for it. He got swept up in the crowd, and before he knew it he was being pushed further and further from the wand shop.

"Mum? Dad?" he called.

James's heart soared as he saw Gambol and Japes: the wizard joke shop.

He pressed his hands and face eagerly on the window. Grinning, excitedly, he turned around, and then resisted the urge to scream.

He had come face to face with a man the size of James. It had dark, wrinkled skin, wispy hair, a pointed nose, and equal, pointy teeth.

"Good day," the goblin said, "Be you a thriving friend or a filthy thief?"

James saw that he was standing outside of Gringotts: the wizard bank.

"I…I…" James stammered. He had always been slightly frightened of goblins. They always made his hair stand on end, and he always felt uneasy.

"James," his father said sharply, as he and his parents finally reached him, "Are you alright?"

James swallowed, "Yes sir."

"You gave us quite a scare dear. We thought you had gotten hurt by that pile of cauldrons falling."

Mr. Potter met James's eye, saw the truth, and winked.

"Anyway, we need to get some more money out of our vault, before we do anything else," Mrs. Potter said, "Shall we go in?"

James opened his mouth, eyeing the goblin, anxiously.

"N…no, that's alright. I'll just stay out here, shall I?"

Mrs. Potter looked worried, "James, darling, you can't stay out here with a bunch of strangers."

"In a few weeks, I'll be going to a school that's filled with nothing but strangers," James muttered, "Strangers don't bother me…"

Mr. Potter nodded, "He'll be fine, Elizabeth."

Mrs. Potter hesitated, but finally entered the large doors. Mr. Potter turned, staring at James patiently, and kindly, but also knowingly.

"Strangers don't bother me," James repeated, not meeting his father's gaze, "Goblins on the other hand…"

Mr. Potter nodded, again, "It's quite alright, James. I understand."

James still looked miserable, "So much for being in Gryffindor."

"No," his father said sternly, "James, bravery is not the same as fearlessness. A brave person admits his fears, and then seeks to conquer them."

James looked up, nodding.

Mr. Potter winked, "If I were you, I'd take this perfect opportunity to check out that joke shop."

James grinned, "Thanks Dad."

He set off towards Gambol and Japes and slipped inside.

It was a colorful, busy shop, with shelves upon shelves lined with every prank device imaginable.

James inhaled, "Ah, the sweet smell of Dungbombs and Stinkpellets."

"Hey there, that's a good nose," said a voice above him. James looked up to see a boy floating near the ceiling. He had raven black hair that reached the center of his back; shining, silver eyes; and a mischievous grin.

"They just got in a new shipment," the boy continued.

"I'm guessing they also got a new shipment of Levitating Balloons," James guessed, grinning.

"You guessed right," the boy exclaimed, "There's a free sample over there!"

James grabbed a balloon and blew it up. As he sucked the air back out of it, he could feel himself lifting off of the air.

"Brilliant!" he said, "My name's James Potter."

The boy grinned, "People around here call me Sirius Black. Probably because my name really is Sirius Black."

The two laughed, and as they did they hovered back to the ground.

"Check this out!" James grinned, ushering Sirius over to a miniature, inflatable, bouncy house. The two wasted no time jumping on it. With every jump, the inflatable gave off a loud farting noise.

"Hey!" a voice screeched. The store owner, an old, sour-looking, man was stomping over, "That bouncy house is not for bouncing!"

The two stopped.

"Then what is it for?" James asked, cheekily.

"Don't be a smart-aleck!" the owner shot back, "Ugh, I hate children!"

"Well it's a good thing you work in a joke-shop then," Sirius muttered, as the owner marched away.

"You know what," James said thoughtfully, "I think he needs to have a taste of his own products!"

Sirius beamed, "You read my mind!"

He motioned to a corner, towards a giant supply of Filibuster's Fireworks.

The two smirked and crept over. Sirius pulled a match out of his pocket and lit it. He lit it on several of the fuses. The two covered their ears and ran out of the shop, hiding behind several dustbins.

Several large detonations erupted from inside the shop. The windows blew out as giant, colorful, explosions erupted into the air, making loud noises.

The boys jumped and cheered, high-fiving each other.

"Brilliant!" James cried, "Come on, I'll buy you an ice-cream to celebrate!"

The two went to Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, where they sat out on the patio, talking, excitedly.

As they slurped down giant sundaes, James learned that Sirius was also planning on attending Hogwarts.

James dug into his pocket, pulling out several Galleons. He threw them on the table, saying casually, "So, what do you think about Quidditch?"

All of a sudden, James felt himself be pushed to the ground. A boy in all-black robes with his hood pulled up had just ran past him, snatching the galleons.

"Hey!" James cried, as Sirius helped him up, "Get back here, thief!"

The two raced after the boy, but he was too quick. He dodged into an alley and quickly climbed a tall iron fence, racing away.

James pulled out his wand as Sirius tried to climb over the fence.

"Get back here, you coward!" James yelled, waving his wand, threateningly.

"James!" a shocked voice behind him said. His mother and father had come racing up the alley, "What's going on?"

"Some bandit just knocked me to the ground!" James roared, as Sirius struggled to get over the top.

"What? James, you poor darling, are you alright? How old was he?" Mrs. Potter cried.

"He looked around our age, ma'am," Sirius grunted.

Mr. Potter sighed, gravely.

"James, please put your wand away. And son, please get down before you harm yourself.," he said, helping Sirius off of the gate.

"It's too late to catch him," Mr. Potter went on.

James sighed, bitterly, "I wish you had caught him, Dad

Mr. Potter looked thoughtful, "If I had, I would've gently scolded him. And then I would've given him back the Galleons."

Sirius and James looked stunned.

"His robes," James's dad continued, "Were they nice-looking?"

"No, sir," Sirius noted, "They were shabby."

"In other words, he looked as though he needed the money," Mr. Potter said, gently, "What he did was wrong, but if he was truly that desperate, it is our duty to help him instead of punish him."

Sirius was looking at Mr. Potter thoughtfully.

"James dear," Mrs. Potter spoke up, "Who's your new friend?"

"Mum," James groaned but Sirius grinned, "Sirius Black, ma'am."

"Well it's nice to meet you, Sirius!" Mrs. Potter hugged the baffled boy.

"Same here, Mrs. Potter," Sirius said, awkwardly.

"Listen mate, sorry for all of this," James apologized.

Sirius punched his shoulder, "Don't worry about it, mate. It was all worth it for the fireworks."

"What fireworks?" Mrs. Potter asked, her eyebrows narrowing.

"Nothing," the boys exclaimed, quickly.

"See you at Hogwarts, James!" Sirius said, even quicker, and ran away.

James's mind was far away from his body as the rest of the shopping, continued.

He was thinking of everything that his father had said today. More importantly, he was thinking about his new companion. As he fell asleep, later that night, visions of exploding fireworks danced in his head.