Harry went up to the bathroom entered the room and locked the door
Harry went up to the bathroom, entered the room and locked the door behind him. Turning to the bath he twisted the taps half on and rinsed the tub with the water to remove a layer of dirt and dust before turning them on fully, inserting the plug and pouring the vial of yellow potions into the flow of the hot tap. As the bath filled a pungent hot vapour came off the cloudy water, loosening the dirt from the bathroom's small window causing it to run off the panes. As the water increased Harry pushed his back against the door, and cried. He hadn't cried in such a long time, even after the attack by Voldemort or how he'd been treated by his relatives, and yet he found this was the third time in a day he had been in tears: first in sadness, then in anger and now in shame. Snape had been so angry and was right. He had not thought. He hadn't cared.
When the bath was full he stripped off his clothes and lowered himself into the scented water, splashing it onto his tear streaked face. The water made his skin feel as if he were humming all over his body. Looking at the surface of the water it rippled with minute vibrations. Turning round in the bath he tried to see if there was any shampoo …there wasn't. He took a gulp of air and sank beneath the surface. As the water touched his hair the humming sensation increased. It suddenly occurred to Harry that the yellow, perfumed potion, although unappealing in colour, was an industrial strength cleaner.
He stayed in the water until his fingers resembled prunes and the water became tepid and black.
The following morning Harry awoke at eight feeling well rested. He leant over the side of the bed and fumbled about on the floor for where he had laid his glasses before he went to sleep. He rubbed them clean on his pyjama sleeve before putting them on his nose and looking round the room. No he had not been dreaming he really was at Spinner's End.
Harry walked with cat like tread to the door and left his room. Reaching the stairs he inhaled the aromas of frying bacon rising from the kitchen. He bit down on his lower lip, descending the stairs and walking down the short corridor to the source of the smell. Standing in the doorway he looked at Snape's back. Snape stood at the oven, frying pan in hand dressed in his full wizarding robes, black, just as at school. On the work surface to the side of the hob laid two plates with a pair of thick slices of bread on each.
"Potter, either come into the room or stay out of the room. Don't stand in between," said Snape, making Harry jump. How could Snape know where he was without even looking around? Harry stepped into the room trying to glimpse any reflective surfaces which Snape might have looked into, "Sit at the table, I'm almost finished."
Snape placed before Harry a huge bacon sandwich along with a glass of milk before sitting down himself at the dining table opposite Harry. They ate their meal in silence.
"We are going to Diagon Alley this morning. You need to buy your school things and some other items and I also have some shopping to do. As you have been luxuriating in bed, we will not be able to get there as early as I would have liked," Snape paused to scowl, "Now that you have finally emerged and eaten, get dressed as quickly as you can," Harry rose and began to leave, "and Potter…do try to tidy your hair." He may not BE him but there was no need for him to look like him.
Harry left the room and dressed. He decided to wear his school trousers and a shirt, he didn't really think anything of Dudley's would be suitable; he didn't really want to be seen in anything of Dudley's when in the wizarding world. He didn't do his hair.
When he went down the stairs he found Snape in the living room stoking a newly lit fire with the tip of his wand.
"Have you Flooed before, Potter?" asked Snape glancing at Harry focusing particularly of his hair.
"What's Flooing sir?" was Harry's response.
Snape groaned inwardly: a novice. No, novice suggested some element of knowledge or understanding. A layperson, a person whose knowledge was completely none existent, that was a better description of Potter. In an exasperated tone he began, "Flooing is a medium of transport. We shall be Flooing from here to Diagon Alley, emerging in The Leaky Cauldron fireplace."
"Sir, why can't we fly?" said Harry.
"Do not interrupt me, Potter," said Snape pointedly. "I should have thought it was obvious, if you had any common sense. For one, we are not invisible and it is not night. We would be seen. Also it is a long flight, even on a broom such as your Nimbus, and we would not reach Diagon Ally by nightfall. I do not have a particular wish to take a room when we get there. By Floo, we will be there almost instantaneous."
"Oh," said Harry. How was he meant to know what Flooing was or the difficulties with travelling? He didn't even know where Spinner's End was.
"All you have to do is throw this into the flames," said Snape lifting a large handful of the grey powder from the metal bowl that hung by the fire, running it through his fingers back to where he had taken it from. "step into the fire," at this he saw Harry's eyes dilate, "and say the name of your destination, which in your case shall be?"
"Diagon Alley?"
"Correct."
Harry approached the fireside with a sense of trepidation, rather like that he had felt when he had first crossed to platform 9 3/4, and tentatively placed his hand in the bowl taking a little of the powder.
"Take more." Obediently he took a greater handful. Standing on the edge of the fire, feeling the heat burning through the grey flannel of his trousers, he threw it into the fire sending green flames licking up the chimney. Stealing his courage he stepped into the hearth, instantly feeling himself engulfed by a pleasantly warm sensation. He opened his mouth: instantly he began to choke on soot, which seemed to force itself into him, making him gag as he drew oxygen into his lungs. Coughing, he choked out a short, "Diagon Alley."
The last thing Harry heard before he disappeared from the fireplace was Snape, his eyes opened wide, saying, "Oh God…"
So aside from Harry's other major flaws, his existence being one of the main ones and his being what seemed to be a permanent thorn in Snape's backside, he couldn't speak. Snape grasped a handful of the powder and threw it into the fire which was still tinted faintly green from Harry's foray into the fire. The intensity of the colour deepened as Snape stepped in and pronounced perfectly clearly, "Diagon Alley."
Stepping out into the Leaky Cauldron, Snape ignored Tom the inn keeper's greetings and swooped out of the building, his robes billowing out behind him. Where was he? Where was he? He couldn't have gone more than a couple of grates too far. It was the second time in as many days that Snape had lost Harry both of which where in some part due to him, the former due to his temper and the latter due to his negligence. He was going to kill him.
Snape began searching the street going up to Gringotts first (the boy must have had to get money) and then working his way back down, checking what he assumed would be Harry's haunts: Quality Quidditching Supplies (Potter had a broom), Eeylops Owl Emporium (he had an owl), Florish and Blott's (I did tell him we would be getting school equipment).
He searched to no avail. Again he felt an unfamiliar sensation: panic. His heart was palpitating; he was sweating; he was feeling more and more agitated. His usually calm demeanor was transforming into one of fitfulness.
He reached the base of Diagon Alley, where it met the neck of its darker counterpart.
Harry fell forward onto the slate in front of the fire, his hands jarred against the mottled and unfinished stone, he heard his glasses crack; his eyes watered. He sat up and took his glasses off of his nose to inspect them. The left lens looked as though a spider had drawn a web across it. Even though the glass was shattered it still hung in the frame. The right lens looked solid enough though the metal on the bridge of the nose was twisted outward making the frame hang lopsidedly. Hermione could have fixed it, thought Harry sadly.
He stood and gazed around the shop. It was then that he noticed the smell for the first time. A light mustard scent lay in the air and what seemed to be a charcoal haze, almost like the vapors which came off the pungent liquids they concocted in Potions lessons, fogged the air, giving it an opalescent quality. It seemed to be coming off an open bowl which on closer inspection Harry saw to be empty.
Gazing round the room the decoration was dominated by opulent black velvet. The items on sale were priceless in both senses to the word, Harry assumed this namely because they did not appear to have any price tags on them and therefore guessed at their rarity. Looking around he also instinctually felt they must be dark. Reflecting on what Snape had told him yesterday, of the dangers facing him, he decided to make a speedy exit despite his curiosity. However, he was waylaid.
A tall glass that was on a wall was not as it should have been. Where as normally such display cases lay plush onto the wall, this one was swung forward revealing a dark passageway. Harry glanced to the entrance of the shop. The sign signaling the opening hours of the store was swung round indicating to the street beyond that the shop was closed for official business. Reading the golden lettering on the windows backwards Harry made out Knockturn Alley. Once more Harry noted he was lost and trapped; the door was barred and had a large lock on it. Walking over to it he tested its seal. It tingled menacingly beneath his fingers. The tighter he gripped the greater the intensity. He quickly released it thinking as he did so that he doubted even the Alohomora spell would open it, even if he had his wand.
He felt blood pump in his ears but over the sound of his heart, over the sound of his own fear, he could here voices. The voices were low and were at a distance. He couldn't distinguish what they were saying exactly but he knew now that he was certain he could not escape, he had no real options. He would be found if he waited here, soon enough, so he advanced towards the passageway and entered.
The height of the passageway was sufficient enough so that even a fully grown man could stand up right within the tunnel, though they would have had to bend double to pass into the tunnel's entrance: Harry just bobbed his head. Following the tunnel was simple; after a sharp turn to the left, it was only one long line following the structure of the building. It ended in a doorway, which lay open. The dimensions of the hidden corridor, for that was its closest likeness in a regular building, seemed to be manipulated by magic: as Harry looked down its length it narrowed to a pinprick but as he approached the door it widened in scale. Looking behind him he saw the same effect. Upon reaching the door Harry pressed himself into the recesses of the frame seemingly disappearing and thankful for once for his small size.
"He no longer is there," a gravelly voice intimated. "He has been removed or, as we should hope, has removed himself. With any luck he is still in the Little Whinging area and is merely hiding himself." Harry suddenly realized that they were talking about him.
A second, impatient voice cut across the first. "We have been searching the area. The Dementor dispatched mentioned a wizard there. It said it was repelled…by a Patronus. NO… it is a waste of time to continue scouring the area for him. There was a wizard there and that wizard has taken him. Potter is not capable of such magic. No- we have lost a great opportunity. Come the new term he will be out of our reach for another year, another year he will not be sacrificed for the Dark Lord."
Harry inhaled sharply. The voices paused. Harry began to feel the thumping of his heart would draw them towards him, it was beating so intensely. The voices restarted but Harry ceased to listen. His ears seemed to have stopped working. Slowly he backed down the passageway, again bowing downwards at the entrance and slipping out of the hole. The front door was still barred to him so he turned his attention to the back of the shop. There must be another exit that was not blocked to him.
I'd just like to say thank you for all the wonderful, wonderful, wonderful reviews and encourage you to keep them coming.
However I would also like to offer an early apology as due to my starting university in just under a weeks time and I will therefore be very busy due to registration and very serious things (and possibly industrial level of drinking … I believe there is a toga party at some point……..) So, I want to assure you I will be attempting it continuing it but my updates may be less frequent, though that is not to say that there will not be another update this week only that after that…