"Okay," said his mom moments later standing in James' bedroom with her fingers rubbing her eyebrows. "please explain this to me. . ."
"Well," started James, a steak pressed to his eye. "I figured that if I moved my bed then I wouldn't hit the dresser."
"But?" said his mom.
"But I did a front flip this time and forgot about the doorknob."
"Sweetheart?" she said with her head in her hands. "Wouldn't it have made much more sense to just move the dresser?"
There was a short pause.
"Hmm." James said, thinking.
"James you need to think before you leap. You are reckless and a danger to yourself."
James moved the steak and looked at her through his swollen eye. His mom bent to his height and put her hands on his shoulders.
"You are so smart. . . academically. But you lack, and I mean this in the most loving way, common sense."
"Mom it was only a flip." said James.
"Honey, I am standing in your blood right now. I am just afraid of you going to Hogwarts and doing something stupid and hurting yourself, I won't be there to comfort you or hold you."
"I'll use common sense at school, it's only home that I'm a bit more, reckless. I promise mom, I'll be good at school. I always behave myself in public, when have I ever done otherwise?"
"James, you tried to use the clothes line as a high wire, you jumped off of our bridge with an umbrella so you could fly, you climbed onto Penny Latimear's roof for a dare!"
"Well it was dad who dared me." he mumbled.
"It was what!" she screeched, then she stormed out of the room and James knew she was heading to the lounge.
He sat at the end of his bed and slapped the steak back to his eye. He looked at the, now dry, blood stain on the floor. He spit on it then with his foot drug a sock from his floor over the spot and absentmindedly attempted to wipe it up. It just smeared, so he laid back on his bed and watched the Quidditch players on the poster above his bed, fly around the picture.
Quidditch was a wizard sport played on broomsticks. And the most wonderful thing on earth. There were four balls, seven players on a team, and three goal post on either side of the pitch. In the seven players, there were three chasers, two beaters, one keeper, and one seeker. The chasers would take the largest ball, the quaffle and try to get it through one of the other team's goal hoops, the beaters would use clubs to hit the two bludgers away from their own team and at the opposing teams players, bludgers were heavy balls whose job it was to hit as many players as they could of their broom, the keeper would guard their goal post and prevent the other team from scoring, and it was the seekers job to catch the last ball called the snitch. The snitch was a tiny golden ball that would zigzag around the pitch and was exceptionally tricky to catch. Once the snitch it caught, the game is over. Ten points to every goal scored and one-hundred-fifty points to the team that catches the snitch. Whichever team has the most points at the end of the games wins.
Hogwarts has its own Quidditch team and James had already decided he'd join in second year. He knew he could, everyone in the neighborhood knew that he was an excellent flier. The kids in the neighborhood didn't want to play on the opposite team against him during recreational Quidditch because his team always won. He was always the captain in any bodies backyard.
He smiled to himself, which hurt because of his swollen lip.
"James?" came a soft voice the next morning. His mother sat on the end of his bed and stroked his hair. "James darling wake up; your father is going to take you to Diagon Alley today."
"Why aren't you coming?" asked James still half asleep with his eyes closed.
"I have to meet up with Harley this morning, but I might stop by depending on the time of my departure."
"No ma," he mumbled patting her arm. "don't use big words, it's too early."
His mom smiled. "Alright, well you guys need to leave in fifteen minutes, I made you breakfast."
"So," James said still with his eyes closed waving his arm around. "Five minutes sleeping, five minutes eating, five getting ready."
"If you want." she replied. "I'll come get you in five minutes."
James closed his eyes again and fell back to sleep. Five minutes later he was woken up by his mom, ate his breakfast, left for Diagon Ally, bought all of his school stuff, and was now on the Hogwarts Express heading toward school.
"James, James wake up." his mother was standing over him again. "Its been five minutes you need to get up now."
James looked around confused. "But I already. . ." he stood up, he was not wearing his Hogwarts robes, but his spaceship pajamas. The dream had felt so real. . . but oh well, now he got to do it all over again.
He ran to the kitchen and was greeted by the warm smell of sausage gravy biscuits, he ate his surprisingly fast. James then rushed back upstairs changed into something that he wouldn't be embarrassed to go out in public in, and ran back downstairs and met with his dad, who rubbed his head, and they made for the door.
"James!" called his mother. "You didn't brush your teeth or comb your hair."
James groaned then ran back inside, brushed his teeth, and dry combed his hair, which did nothing, his hair had always been simply unmanageable. Jet black and everywhere, he got this trait from his mom, that's why she normally wore it up.
He met back up with his dad, and they made their way back out the door.
"How are we getting there?" he asked as they walked to the main gate guarding their driveway.
"We're walking." Fleamont replied.
"Why don't we just take our brooms?" asked James.
"If we bring our brooms we'd have to carry them around with us all day which would be a hassle." his dad replied.
"Not really." James started. "We could just ride them, then you could shrink them to fit in our pockets, or we could arrive on them and you would just apparate them home then apparate back, or you could transfigure them into something smaller, or you could-"
"Okay, okay," Fleamont had to stop him. "My nurse at St. Mungo's said I need to get walking more, for my health."
"You're sick?"
"No bud I'm fine, it's just exercise, I've been apparating to much."
The Potters lived very close to Diagon Alley, less than five minutes.
"What house do you want to be sorted into?" his dad asked as they turned down the street.
"I already know which one I'm going in, Gryffindor." James replied.
"But do you want to be in Gryffindor?" Fleamont asked.
James looked at him a bit confused.
"What'd you mean?" he asked.
"Well I mean I don't want you to feel like you have to be in Gryffindor or anything, I want you to be able to go wherever you want." he replied.
"I want to be in Gryffindor." said James. "Courageous and free! Like you."
Fleamont smiled. "As long as that was what you wanted." And a look of relief came across his face.
The sun was shining brightly and the weather was warm and comfortable. They began their decent down a grassy hill. James could see Gringotts Wizard bank in the distance.
Finally, they were walking toward the road into Diagon Alley. Fleamont put his hand on his son's shoulder as they passed three wizards coming out of a road called Knockturn Alley.
"Dad? Can we go into Quality Quidditch Supply first?" James asked as they emerged into the Ally.
"What's at Quality Quidditch that you need?" dad asked.
"Nothing I just want to see what's new!" James replied excitedly.
"We need to go to the bank first, then we're getting everything on that list of yours, then if we have time, we can go."
"Dad! The list! I forgot it!" James exclaimed.
His dad sighed. "Where'd you leave it?"
"On the floor, in my room I think. Or it could be on the kitchen table, or in the bathroom. You know what? I think I had it with me when I was outside."
"Alright, you wait here," he placed James on a bench outside the Magical Menagerie. "and I'll get it."
And with a loud 'CRACK' he disappeared. James tapped his hands on his knees for a moment and looked around. The bench was really uncomfortable. He shifted to he left, then he sat side sideways, then he tried laying down. . . no, laying down was too weird in public. He took to tapping his legs and clicking his tongue again. 'CRACK' James bit his tongue.
"Here you go, son." said his dad handing him the Hogwarts list.
"Mmmhhhm." James muttered, holding his bleeding tongue between his teeth.
They made their way to the Gringotts Bank. It was a large, white building and at the front doors were two goblins; they were short and squat, they had long toes and fingers, beetle black eyes, and looked in pain when they smiled. The goblins bowed them through the front door and a second pair of goblins bowed them through the second set of doors which led into a giant marble room with over a hundred goblins working with gold behind their counters. James and his dad who was, again, holding onto his son's shoulder, passed the goblins and their work and made their way strait up to the front counter. Behind the desk was a young goblin taking notes. He put down his quill and looked over the table at them.
"I would like to enter my vault." said Fleamont.
"Of course Mr?"
"Potter." he replied, and he placed a small golden key on the counter in front of the goblin.
"And is this young lad accompanying you?" asked the goblin in a gruff voice.
"Yes he will." Fleamont replied.
"Very well, Malwick will take you to your vault." said the goblin gesturing toward a particularly tall goblin in the corner.
Malwick nodded and opened a stone door to allow them entry.
They walked through, and found themselves in what looked like an enormous cave with mining tunnels leading in various directions.
"After you sirs." said Malwick pointing to a cart. James jumped in first, then his dad, then Malwick took the seat in front of James. Malwick looked behind him to make sure they were both secure, then WHOOSH! The cart took off so fast that James' head hit his dad's behind him.
Around and around it went, completely untraceable. Twice they went upside down so fast that that, though they were not buckled, they stayed sitting in the cart. Until finally FOOOSH. The cart came to a halt.
"Malwick?" said James as he climbed out of the cart. "Has anybody ever died during one of those rides?"
"Yes." Malwick replied shortly. He inserted the key into the lock.
"How?" asked James.
"James." said his father scornfully.
"A certain wizard thought it would be funny to stand up in the cart. . . he was sucked out. . . the body was never found."
There was a silence while Malwick fiddled with the key.
"Not on my watch of course." said the goblin. "You're perfectly safe, just don't stand up." the door to vault 687 creaked open.
James entered the safe first, there were mounds of gold, silver, and bronze coins in piles inside of the vault.
"Fill this bag, James." said his dad tossing a small leather pouch to his son.
It didn't take long for both bags to be full and for them to be zooming back down the tunnel with Malwick. And James wasn't disappointed to get off at the end, the first time was fun, but going backward made him a bit nauseous.
"Alright, bud," said his dad while they walked out of the bank. "What do we need to get first?"
"I want to get my wand first." James replied.
"Well that's all the way back where we came from, why don't we start with Madam Malkin's Robes." he said pointing to a quaint little store ahead. "Then we can make our way toward the Leaky Cauldron and pick up your wand on the way back."
They walked into the shop together and were greeted by a squat little witch dressed in purple.
"Welcome to Madam Malkin's dear, are you here for Hogwarts?"
"Yep." replied James.
"Alright dear, if you will please stand up here for me." she said pointing at a wooden stool.
James stepped up and Madam Malkin threw a black robe over his head. She had multiple pins in her mouth and lent down to trim his robes.
"I'm going to need three of these, a winter cloak with silver fastenings, and a pointed hat." he said.
"Of course dear, as soon as I finish with this." he thought she said, but she still had a lot of pins in her mouth.
Ten minutes later he was leaving with all of his school apparel.
Then they made their way to Flourish & Blott's for his books.
"Alright," said Fleamont. "You find these three books, and I'll find the rest."
"Dad, they're right there." James said pointing toward a shelf labeled 'Hogwarts'.
They walked down past shelves labeled 'Hogwarts seven', 'Hogwarts six', 'Hogwarts five', 'Hogwarts four', 'Hogwarts three', 'Hogwarts two', and 'Hogwarts one'. In a perfect line were all the books he needed.
"Well that was convenient." said Fleamont.
They paid for the books and continued; they bought James' dragon hide gloves, crystal phials, brass scales, and telescope.
"All we have left it your cauldron and wand."
They walked into the Cauldron shop and from every shelf were hundreds of cauldrons of every type. Gold, silver, pewter, black, rainbow, one that changed colors, and ones that screamed if you got the ingredients wrong.
"Pewter, standard size 2." said Fleamont holding up a cauldron. "I'll go pay for this."
James took to looking at every cauldron in the store and listening to other people's conversations. He had always been really good at ease dropping, there hasn't be a Christmas that he could remember that he didn't know at least one item he was getting.
"Go on nobody will see you." said one of two five-year old's behind him. 'clunk' one of the five-year old's climbed into a particularly large cauldron. "I'm stuck."
"No not that one." came a middle aged witch's voice from next to him.
"Son, can I help you with-? OW!" a boy around James' age had dropped the cauldron he was holding onto a man's foot. The man pulled his foot out from under it and the cauldron rolled across the floor.
James lent down and picked it up, he carried it back and placed it back on the shelf.
"Thanks." said the boy who had dropped it.
"Peter, you'd better apologize to Kent." came a woman's voice.
"You ready?" asked his dad finally meeting up with him and putting the purchased cauldron onto the trolley that James was leaning against.
"How 'bout lunch before we get your wand?"
So they took to the Leaky Cauldron. James had dumpling soup and a small cherry pie, his dad had a small steak.
"Dad?" said James.
"Hmm?"
"I was just wondering, how were you sorted into your house at Hogwarts?" he asked.
"You worried?" asked his dad with steak in his mouth."
"No." said James sitting up straighter. "Never, I was just wondering."
"You put on a hat." said James' dad gesturing toward his head. "The hat was said to belong to Godrick Gryffindor, you know, the founder of Gryffindor, and it's suppose to look into your head to see whether your loyal, clever, brave, or a git. You don't have to do anything."
James absentmindedly relaxed a bit.
Ten minutes later they were on their way to the very end of the strip toward Ollivander's where he would finally get his wand.
"Are you nervous?" asked his dad.
"About what?"
"About which wand will choose you? It could be a really small or dainty wand, or it could be made of pink wood."
"Please," said James puffing himself up. "My wand is going to look awesome."
They entered the wand shop. It was a creepy place with a high ceiling and wand boxed covering nearly every surface except the dusty floor. There was a small line of students in front of him, which, he wouldn't admit, but he was happy about, this way he could watch what he was supposed to do. His dad left to sit on a spindly chair next to a wizard who look so old that the slightest touch could knock him over.
He watched over the other two kids shoulders at the boy testing out wands. But was forced standing upright because a long measuring tape came zooming from a drawer and began measuring him. He just noticed that the two kids in front of him were being measured now too. The tape measured his arms, waist, height, legs, shoulders, head, toes, nose, eyebrows, wrist, and hair length. Finally, the measuring tape zoomed back into its drawer when 'WHOOOSH' a gold wind flew right through him and around the room from the boy's wand. Everyone in the room clapped. The next girl stood up and now James was close enough to hear what Mr. Ollivander was saying. "Awe eccentric this one, eccentric. Give me your hand dear."
"Nervous?" asked the boy in front of him turning around.
"No." James replied a bit stiffly.
"I am." said the other boy. "I've sweat more in the past three minutes than I have in all my life."
"Okay, ewe." said James. "And I doubt that."
Suddenly the room was illuminated by blue and white fireworks. The whole room applauded.
"Awe," he could hear Ollivander say. "12 ½ inches, elder wood, phoenix tale feather, hard flexibility. My, my, you take good care of that wand. Elder wood makes a very powerful wand. You are going to be something else Miss. Daniels."
The blonde girl walked away glowing.
"Mr. Kemp." said Ollivander. A measuring tape came zooming from the drawer and into Mr. Ollivander's hands. "Aw," he said peering at the measurements. "I think I have just the wand for you." he walked down an isle of wand boxes and from the very bottom shelve. "This Mr. Kemp, is probably in my top ten oldest wands. Try it out."
The boy took the wand and gave it a quick 'swoosh' motion and from the tip came water that splashed onto the floor, but left it dry. The room applauded.
"Very good, yes very good. 10 ¼ inches, oak, unicorn tale hair, hard flexibility."
The boy paid, then walked away, and James stepped up; there was a line behind him now. A measuring tape came from the drawer and flew into Mr. Ollivander's hands, and he gazed at it. "Hhmm. . ." he said and turned toward the shelve behind him and began sorting through boxes. James could see Mr. Ollivander clearly now that, that kid's big head was out of the way. He was very old, but lively, he had misty gray eyes, and white hair, and was very pale.
"Try this." he said turning around with a black, sleek and shiny wand. James took it and felt it in his hands. He went to wave it, but Ollivander caught his arm. "Nope." he said taking it back from James. "Try this one instead." He handed James a yellowish looking one. James went to point it at something but it was snatched out of his hand causing his arm to swing limply at his side. "Nope." Ollivander said again. James looked at his dad in disbelief. His dad just shrugged and smiled. "Try this."
Five more time this happened. James was starting to get annoyed and angry.
"How about this?"
"No…"
"This one?"
"Unlucky again."
"Try, try."
"Ah."
"Here, take it!"
James took the wand. "Ow!" he dropped it.
"Ohh!" said Ollivander. "I think that might be the one."
"The one?" asked James. "It shocked me!"
"Yes well, wands are supposed to send a message to their owner, some messages are stronger than others."
"Stronger? That things going to electrocute me!"
"James pick it up." said his dad.
He lent down and cautiously retrieved the wand from the floor; it didn't shock him this time. He waved it in the air, black crystals came from the tip of his wand and disappeared before they hit the ground.
"Very good!" said Mr. Ollivander. "11 inches, mahogany, unicorn hair core, pliable, this wand is particularly good at transfiguration."
Mr. Fleamont paid for the wand and he, and his son, left the store.
"What do you think?" he asked.
"It's a little plain." James admitted. It was a straight piece of wood, light brown, with sharp edges, no markings.
"It doesn't really matter what it looks like though, it's the power within the wand."
"That's easy for you to say, yours is awesome."
". . . you know my wand has unicorn hair too."
"Really?"
"Yup, it has never let me down. It makes a loyal wand, and it picks up pretty quickly. Or perhaps it was just the wizard using it." he ruffled James' hair. "Still have that bag of gold?" he asked
"Yeah," James replied. "We haven't used it yet."
"I want you to spend it." said his dad. "You have one hour, I'll be here, you go get whatever you want."
James' face split into a wide grin.
"Just don't go to Knockturn Alley." Fleamont warned sternly. "Now go on, get out of here."
James smiled still wider and ran in the opposite direction toward his favorite shop.
By the time he arrived at Quality Quidditch Supply, he was very out of breath. He entered the shop, and it was the same as it always was, spectacular. Broomsticks of the most beautiful shades and styles took up all of one wall, three brooms sat on pedestals and were occupied by a large group of young wizards. There were loud 'BANG, BANG, BANGS' coming from a cage containing bludgers, and little 'prik, prik, priks' coming from a smaller cage containing golden snitches. Quaffles were in boxes on shelves. The rest of the store was dedicated to famous Quidditch teams merchandise. They had shirts, hats, flags, models of the teams, cups, rosettes, face paint, pillows, seat cushions, bed sets, and posters.
On a separate shelve was the actual Quidditch gear such as the knee pads, elbow guards, cloaks, gloves and goggles.
And on another shelve was dedicated to just Hogwarts, it being the best wizarding school in Britain. They had crowd supplies for each house to cheer on their Quidditch teams. The shelve was split into four sections, blue and bronze for Ravenclaw, yellow and black for Hufflepuff, scarlet and gold for Gryffindor, and silver and green for Slytherin.
James, of course, took as much Gryffindor merchandise as his arms could carry. He put is scarlet and gold hat over his untidy black hair and walked into the sun. It was hot specially with his hat, that he wasn't about to take off, so he stopped by Florean & Flotescue's Ice Cream Parlor. He ate his chocolate and apple ice cream as he walked back toward his dad laden with shopping bags. He stopped next to the Gringotts bank which turned onto Knockturn Alley. Temptation.
James thought for a moment. The Alley to his left took a steep decline and was shadowed by the buildings on either side. A cold wind swept toward him from the narrow street and the sound of cackling and shop bells reached his ears.
"What time is it?" James asked a friendly looking witch walking by with a cat.
"It's 1:45." she replied, then walked away.
1:45, he still had 15 minutes. But of course, this being James, kind of reckless, kind of daring, and his father's son, turned down the alley way.
Everything was surprisingly dim, odd, it was so much sunnier seven seconds ago. He knew that this place was geared only toward dark wizards. The people down this strip looked dodgy. He got a great many looks and uncomfortable eye contact as he made is way down the walk.
He took his bright hat off as not to attract as much attention.
His eye was caught by a sign that said 'Giant Spiders' he turned into the shops front door which rang when he opened it. There were cages all around the room, on the walls, in the middle of the floor, in the corners, and hanging from the ceiling, housed spiders of every shape and size and eggs were in little crates along the shelving. He looked up to see a giant spider taking up most of the ceiling with its body, its legs were resting on four shelves at each four corners of the room. James just hoped it was dead. He decided to leave when he walked through a spider web and ruined his ice cream. Also because he stepped on an egg. He didn't think that the manager would take kindly to hundreds of baby spiders running across his floor.
He threw his ice cream away in front of a store of shrunken heads, the sign said 'Of Age to Enter' so naturally, he walked in anyway. . . but walked right back out when he saw that the store was doing a demonstration.
He wasn't even going to try the shop 'Poisonous Candles' the smell just walking by was unbearable.
Deciding that he was bored, he started back up the alley toward Diagon Alley.
A hand with long fingernails suddenly grabbed him around the neck.
"What do you think you're doing?" said a shriveled man with black teeth and bad breath.
"Well I believe I'm walking here, and would appreciate if you kept your claws off of me, thanks." James replied bravely, grabbing the hand and pulling it off of him.
"You're not going anywhere without trying one of these." said the wizard holding out a pan of round, black. . . food? With a toothpick stabbed into it.
"Thanks, but no." James replied. "I'm on a poison diet. And I don't except unidentified food from strangers in a dark alleys anymore, trying to kick the habit."
And he walked away rubbing his neck where the wizard had grabbed him.
He met with his dad who was sitting outside Ollivanders reading a newspaper.
"Quality Quidditch is the only store you visited?" asked his dad standing up finally.
"Nah," said James. "I got ice cream too."