Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the source material for this fanfiction and is owned by J.K. Rowling.


"I'm a wizard?" Harry asked.

Giselle supplied an eager nodding, confirming Harry's questions. "As much as I am a witch. You look like you're at the age where accidental magic must have occurred already. Ever had any 'strange experiences' before?"

Harry pondered, thinking back to the many times in his life that his 'accidents' earned him the ire of his relatives. "Plenty, actually."

"That's the magic in your veins, love! It'll get less unexpected as you grow older, don't worry. But for now," Giselle spread her arms welcomingly, gesturing to the many people in the bustling market, "You're in good company! Always a happy sight to see young'uns discover their magic."

Harry felt a mixed bag of emotions at the moment.

On one hand he was afraid. More afraid than he'd ever been before - he was in some new strange place, surrounded by what he just discovered to be witches and wizards, he'd messed with Mr. Jake's precious heirloom, and to top it all off he'd just sneezed fire.

On the other hand, Harry had never felt so welcomed; So wanted. He'd spent his brief childhood being treated as a freak by his relatives, kept away and hidden as much as possible like some modern British Quasimodo. He'd been subjected to a ridiculous number of tasks and chores, been yelled at and scolded for the most minor infractions, had meals withheld on occasions, and had a hermit's social life thanks to Dudley's intimidations of anyone wanting to befriend him. And now out of the blue, Harry's wishes had been granted - No more Dudley, no more Dursleys, no more abuse, and he had people who truly understood him and welcomed him into their community.

'If this is a dream, I'd love for it to continue a while longer…' Harry thought.

He felt Tom's hand smack his shoulder with a rough pat, and it jolted him out of his thoughts.

"Actually Harry I've wanted to ask you this on the way here but it slipped my mind. How old are you?" inquired Tom. The crowd had largely left to do their own shopping, the novelty of Harry's dragon-jerky experience had worn off and they had produce to buy and prices to haggle. Only Giselle remained.

"I'm ten in a few weeks Sir."

Tom gripped his chin and stroked his patchy mutton chops. He nodded to himself as he bent down to quietly ask Harry a question, "Harry, be honest, do you really want to go home?"

Harry looked at Tom puzzled, "I have to Sir. I don't have anywhere else to go. Besides, now that I know about Diagon Alley, I could always come and visit when I get older can't I?"

"Well… If it's a roof over your head and food to eat that you're worried about, let's pretend it isn't an issue for now. Would you still go back?"

"Sounds nice Sir, but I still have to go to school…"

Tom smacked his forehead with his palm lightly, it had been so long since he himself had been in school that he entirely forgot children were supposed to attend a school.

"Don't worry about that either boy, we've got a school near here - just for wizards and witches too." Tom fudged the details a little. 'Here' was most definitely not Diagon Alley. A few tutors here and there maybe. But if 'here' meant the general geographical area of Europe they were situated in, then yes, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry could be considered.

Harry's eyes sparkled as he contemplated and fiddled with the oversized sleeves of his shirt as he came to a conclusion, "If it's as you say Sir, then I think I wouldn't go back home actually. But where would I stay?"

Tom grinned, yellowed teeth and all. He stood back up to a full height and addressed the patiently waiting Giselle. "Oi Giselle, you think you've got the time to bring Harry here to Malkin's? I have to start preparing the stews and pies for later."

Giselle sighed, "I have a stall to run too, you old coot. But since Harry's such a sweet little thing I wouldn't mind closin' up for the rest of the day."

She reached out to pinch a handful of Harry's cheeks painfully before turning to face her stall. Harry saw her pull out a stick the length of her forearm from her belt before jabbing at the air. The butcher's stall had started moving on its own. Knives and cleavers floated over to a wash basin, getting a thorough washing before being dried by another floating cloth and being stashed away. The curtains at the top of the signage unfurled and covered the stall. He saw bronze, silver, and gold coins being floated across into Giselle's own pocket. He wondered how the seemingly small pocket could fit so many coins, but supposed that magic lay beyond the limits of his regular reality.

Giselle saw Harry's gobsmacked expression at the show of magic and smirked, jabbing her wand at the stall one more time. This time a deformed bundle, crudely wrapped with a newspaper that had moving pictures and words started floating towards Harry. Instinctively, he caught it in his hands and looked to Giselle for answers.

"It's not dragon jerky this time I promise. Just good ol' fashioned beef jerky, has a new flavouring on it though. A couple friends from Brazil came for a visit and passed me a few spices."

Harry happily accepted the package, holding it by the string that wrapped it. He felt Giselle lead him by his shoulders as they turned to leave the market.

"Hold on," Harry turned back to Tom, "you still haven't told me where I'll be staying Sir."

Tom chuckled, "You'll be living in one of the rooms at the Leaky Cauldron. We've got plenty of extra room that you can use. Food's provided of course."

"That's too much Mr. Tom!" Harry denied.

"Don't worry about it kid. Like I said, extra rooms rarely get sold anyway. And we've got plenty of extra food too. I've gotta do some good deeds with the place - otherwise I'd get haunted by Dodderidge's ghost when I retire."

Harry chewed on the inside of his cheek, he certainly felt like he was imposing on the man - regardless of his assurances that Harry wouldn't burden him at all. He was very tempted to accept it but he couldn't in good conscience do that. He'd arrived at a workable solution as he remembered what Tom said in the market earlier.

"Alright, but in exchange I'll help you in the kitchen with preparing the food!" Harry reasoned, "That way I can help but I won't be around the pub stuff and alcohol."

Tom was about to wave off the boy's negotiation, but he stopped himself when he saw the resolute look in the boy's eyes. A fierce independence shone through, and a refusal to compromise his moral standards. Tom sighed and relented.

"Alright boy, you can help in the kitchens if you know what you're doing. Leave anything that needs a knife or heating to me."

"But that's everything in the kitchen!" cried Harry.

"And you expect me to just let a ten year old start chopping vegetables and working a stove?"

"I do alright with a knife!" Harry countered.

"We have magic for that!" Tom shot back. He rubbed his face at Harry's stubborn refusal to be wholly recipient to good things.

"Tell you what Harry, you can help by being a taster and recipe tester. Can't make tastebuds with magic after all. And you can help me run the occasional errand like picking up groceries from the market, that way you can see Giselle and the others. Deal?" Tom negotiated his final offer.

Harry contemplated the offer and found it acceptable. He stuck his tiny hand out, "Deal!"

Tom shook his head as he accepted the handshake.

"If you're done with the contract dispute boys, I've got to bring Harry to Malkin's" Giselle added, reminding the two that she was there too.

"Ah, right. Ahem. Tell Malkin I'll pay her for everything, Harry you be good while you're with Giselle, no wanderin' off." Tom gave his farewells before they parted ways.

Harry called out to Tom though, "Mr. Tom!"

Tom turned to see why Harry had called for him, "Hmm?"

"Thank you for everything!" Harry beamed at Tom, as he bowed his head slightly and waved.

Tom smiled back, "It's really no problem at all kid. See you back at the pub later."

'Cheeky little thing… Maybe I'll get him some chocolate frogs on the way?' Tom contemplated as he walked off.

On the way to Madam Malkin's shop, Harry felt like clarifying a few things with Giselle.

"Mr. Tom mentioned the magic school. Is it here in Diagon Alley?" Harry asked.

Giselle barked a laugh, "Hogwarts ain't anywhere close to here Harry. No one knows the exact location to be honest. But you'll have to take a big red shiny train to get there."

"So I have to take the train everyday then?" Harry was already starting to dread the daily commute if that were the case.

"Oh no dear, you'll live in the school's dorms while you're there! You'll leave the school during your holidays though"

"Sounds interesting, what will I learn there?"

Giselle looked up as she tried to recall her lessons from her time in the school, "Well I'm not up-to-date on the lessons but the basics are Defence Against the Dark Arts, Potions, Charms, History of Magic… I'm sure there's more but I'm struggling to remember them now."

Harry's brain could barely process some of what she said. He was expecting the usual mathematics, English, science, and the occasional PE lesson. That was all thrown out the window it seemed - he'd have to learn a whole bunch of new stuff. Not that he minded though, he was looking forward to the novel experience.

"What's 'dark arts'?" Harry blurted, the mental processing giving way to verbal.

Giselle grimaced slightly, "It's not something you should get into. It's what mean and nasty people use to hurt others. That's why you're learning how to defend yourself from it."

"Well… what about potions then Ms. Giselle? Are they fun?" Harry tried diverting.

"Bah! Potions… Either you're born with a deft hand for cauldron work or you'll be tasting soot every week," Giselle miserably recalled.

Harry began getting a little worried, "Is-Is it dangerous?"

Giselle caught the worried look in the boy's eye and attempted to reassure him, "Oh Harry I'm sure you'll be fine. I was just awful at the precise work it needed. The worst anyone lost was some eyebrows and skin. Oh, actually there was once Minnie lost a few fingers but she got them reattached at Mungo's so no worries!"

"Jolly…" deadpanned Harry.

"Well, if you're looking for a fun subject, Transfiguration might be up your alley. Professor Dumbledore always made classes fun," Giselle added.

"Dumbledore?"

"He's not a mental kook I promise… Well, a little, but all brilliant people are a little off kilter aren't they?"

"Brilliant?"

"Professor Dumbledore's the most powerful wizard in Britain. Maybe even Europe. A proper national hero, he is. He beat the Dark Lord Grindelwald in a duel and locked him up for good," Giselle told Harry proudly.

Harry's head began spinning with the revelations. 'What the heck is a dark lord? Why was there one in the first place? Did they call up evil knights and archers to fight?'

Sensing Harry's apparent confusion, Giselle felt obligated to share more.

"Grindelwald was a very evil wizard who almost ruled the world. He caused a massive war for the wizards and plenty of lives were lost on both sides. Only Professor Dumbledore was able to stop him because no one else could match his power," Giselle exposited.

"What made him so evil though?" Harry questioned.

"Grindelwald wanted to rule over everyone. He tried to turn the magical community against the muggles, telling us that they were incompetent but dangerous and couldn't be trusted on their own, otherwise they could destroy us along with themselves. They needed wizards and witches to rule over them and force them to live peacefully," Giselle sighed and scratched her head as she recalled the state magical society was reduced to in those bleak times.

"He was such a good speaker. He was so… charismatic. A lot of people believed him and supported him - couldn't have started a war without followers after all, and trust me Grindelwald had some of the most devoted followers anyone has ever had. People were convinced he was the next Merlin. A great wizard who would usher in a new age of wizarding superiority - where we wouldn't have to live afraid of breaking any Statutes of Secrecy. To live outside of the confines of magical communities,"

Giselle took a break to catch her breath. Harry listened intently, enraptured by the story and waited patiently for her to continue.

"But those dreams came at a heavy cost. Grindelwald and his supporters eventually decided that getting rid of their opponents was easier than convincing them. A lot of people got hurt, many died or just disappeared and were never heard from again. The population was pretty split on pro- and anti-muggle, but no one really wanted to declare to the world about their loyalties so we lived in constant fear of the people around us. If they found out we were the opposite of them, we'd go from neighbours to enemies in a heartbeat. It was an awful time to live in," concluded Giselle on the heavy topic.

Harry gulped. 'What kind of world did I get myself into… Although, I could understand where he'd get the idea.'

"Well, not all muggles are good aren't they?" Harry added.

Giselle turned to him in shock, eyes wide.

"They aren't all bad either!" Harry quickly tacked on, "I'm just saying, I've seen plenty of horrible people and plenty of great people in the muggle world."

Giselle breathed a sigh of relief, "You'll find that some things are constant between the muggles and us, Harry. Don't trust every wizard you meet. Some of them would do anything to get Grindelwald back."

"I'm just glad the muggle world hasn't had a war in a very long time."

Giselle smirked, "Such a sheltered little wizard, for your information the muggles just got done with the worst war they ever had not two decades ago!"

Harry looked at her in bewilderment, "No it wasn't - World War two was like fifty years ago!"

Giselle shook her head amusedly, "More like fifteen! The muggle war only ended in 1945 Harry. They're still clearing debris in the countryside from what I heard. Maybe you misheard and thought it was fifty years ago?"

The world seemed to spin around Harry. His mouth quickly dried, and he could feel a sweat building. He looked down at the newspaper wrapped parcel in his slightly shaking hands and spotted the articles on it. Each one had a date. Each date had a year.

1960…

1960…

1960…

1960 and so on…

Harry clenched his shaking free hand and tightened his jaw. He couldn't let himself lose it. 'This is what I get for messing with family heirlooms.'

Giselle looked on worryingly at Harry, "Are you alright there Harry? Do you feel ill? Was it the dragon jerky?"

Harry swallowed a lump in his throat and shook his head. He took a deep breath to calm himself and gave Giselle a small but honest grin, "It's nothing Ms. Giselle, I'm alright. Maybe we could take a break from all the sad subjects."

Giselle raised a brow but declined to comment on the behaviour further, "Remember when I told you about transfiguration? Here, watch this!"

She snapped a branch off a tree and brandished her wand, pointing it at the stick in her hands. She muttered something under her breath and swished her wand at the direction of the branch. Harry saw it begin to change shape, moulding itself to Giselle's magical design. By the end of it, a basic birchwood comb was in the palm of Giselle's hand.

"Here," She palmed it off to Harry, "An idea of what transfiguration looks like. Maybe you can use it for that mess you call a hairstyle."

Harry was deeply grateful for the simple gift. Today marked twice that he had been given a gift in his life that didn't include the childish cruelties the Dursley's sought to 'bless' him with.

"Thank you so much Ms. Giselle," Harry took a fond look at it before pocketing it.

Giselle noted that the boy rapidly started blinking while looking at it. She felt guilty for not making it more ornate or special, she hadn't thought the boy would take it so affectionately.

"I'm glad you like it, Harry. Although, it's nothing really that special. By the time you get some practice with your own wand, you'll be able to create much prettier combs on your own."

Harry shook his head, "I'll make sure to use this comb when I have to look my best."

"Pfft. You'll have to wait a couple more years before worrying about that sort of thing." Giselle reached down to ruffle Harry's hair, shifting the perpetual black mop of hair from one mess into another.

"When do I get my wand anyway? And who gives it?" Harry asked.

"You'll get yours before you enrol in your first year at Hogwarts officially. Good old Ollivander will be your supplier. His family have been supplying most young witches and wizards in Britain for a couple centuries now. You'd be hard pressed to find a wand of higher quality than those made by the Ollivanders."

"Is a wand necessary to do magic?"

"Not necessary per say, but it helps tremendously. Think about painting something for example. You could just fling the paint on the canvas willy nilly but the end product will be disastrous. But with a paint brush you can control where to put the paint exactly," explained Giselle.

She continued, "While you could get talented enough at throwing paint to create a full picture, that requires much practice. And some measure of talent. Same thing goes for magic. Simple spells requiring little finesse like this-"

Giselle stuck her palm out at a loose collection of fallen leaves on the pavement in front of them. An invisible force struck the small pile like a gust of wind, scattering the leaves a short distance outward.

"-can be done without a wand and with little worry. Trying to do something too complex without a wand can cause bad feedbacks to the user. Sometimes with explosive results."

"Wow… How did you do that?" Harry marvelled at the witch.

Giselle just gave a wry grin, "Learn it with a wand first. C'mon, Malkin's is just around this corner, let's get you out of those rags and into something nicer shall we?"


Tom observed the boy looking around the room starry eyed and sighed sadly, 'He shouldn't be this happy about a spare room…'

After he'd finished the excursion to Madam Malkin's with Giselle, he was dropped off at the Leaky Cauldron as they parted ways and Tom took over the mantle of watching over Harry. He brought Harry around the inn to orient the boy, and showed him to his room.

It was a spare room at the end of the hall, when they first entered everything was covered in a thin veneer of dust which Tom took care of with a combination of repeatedly prodding his wand at the room and its inventory and saying the phrase 'Scourgify'.

By the end of it, the room was spick and span. A ready accommodation that Harry was all too happy to have. It was a simple room, sparsely furnished save a single bed, desk, trunk, wardrobe, and a bathroom attached to it. But to Harry, it was his first time he could recall having an actual room

"Well, I'll give you time to pack up and make this place yours. You'll be livin' here till you go off to Hogwarts next year, and during any of your holidays too. Make sure it's comfy. Dinner will be ready in a while, we eat earlier before the evening crowd gets in - hope you don't mind. Get yourself cleaned up too while you're at it," Tom jerked a thumb at the bathroom before leaving the room.

"Got it Mr. Tom!"

Harry packed his few sets of new shirts and trousers into his trunk. When he had finished with the magical tailoring routine, floating needle and all, the kind madam Malkin had made Harry his new shirts and trousers with a little looseness than Harry would conceivably grow into in the coming year. After that, he'd been told he'd mostly wear his 'Hogwarts robes' by Mdm. Malkin, who suggested getting new ones each year or two.

He felt something small jump onto his arm and he jerked back quickly, flinging whatever that was on his arm at the nearby wall. As it slid down, Harry saw the brown trail it left behind. It looked like a frog made of chocolate. He traced the slight brown spots it left everytime it jumped back to a little paper box on his drawer with a note on it. Harry quickly grabbed the paperbox and shoved the confectionary critter back into it. He took up the note and gave it a read.

Dear Harry. Welcome to the wizarding community. We're all glad to have you here. I'm not much good at writing letters like these so I'll keep it brief. Enjoy the chocolate frog, you might have to catch it first though! - Tom.

Harry smiled as he looked at the chocolate frog straining against this paper prison. He opened his bedside window and opened the package near it, watching as the chocolate frog took its leap out of the window.

He noticed a card inside the packaging and pulled it out. It depicted a burly man, grasping a ball of blue light in his hand as it seeped through his fingers like sand.

Andros the Invincible. This Ancient Greek is the only known wizard to have produced a Patronus the size of a giant.

'I'll have to ask Mr. Tom about what's a patronus and why it's so special to have a giant one.'

He set the card aside for now and prepared his toiletries.

Harry took a quick shower to wash off the dirt and grime accumulated from the day and sat on his bed side dressed in a simple shirt and comfortable trousers after he'd attempted to utilise his new birchwood comb to no avail, peering down with his eyebrows furrowed and lips bent in a slight frown at the magical-newspaper-wrapped jerky in his hands.

'I'm in the past… I don't know how… I don't know why either… What am I supposed to do? How do I even get back?'

He then took his eyes off the newspaper to look at the clean room around him.

'I guess the answer is magic. Magic can get me back… But do I even want to go back?'

His life back in the 90's began flooding in though. The interactions with Jake and Mira. The school trip. The rickety old bus that always smelt of rat droppings. The name calling and social isolation at school. Getting shoved around and punched by Dudley and his gang. The Dursleys.

'The cupboard under the stairs…' Harry concluded, teeth gritting.

Harry looked back at the newspaper. Thinking back to the kind words from Giselle. The welcome from the market community. Madam Malkin's kind treatment. He looked up at the room; Tom's kindness in taking in the boy was evident in all four corners he looked at. He smelled food that he didn't have to cook for himself for once. He swallowed and nodded to himself.

"I'm a wizard. This is where I belong." Harry declared to himself.

He took one last look at the newspaper before he folded it back around the remaining jerky.

'Best not to let anyone know.'


'Seven kilos of potatoes… Three kilos of onions… Six kilos of haddock… Eight kilos of beef… and… two bags of powdered fire slugs?' Harry wondered, 'Mr. Tom didn't put those in the stew we had, did he?'

He pushed his queasiness down and focused on the task at hand. Namely, the parchment he held in his hand detailing the ingredients he had to help Tom get from the market. He'd settled in for a couple days, and the first few times he made market trips, he just tagged along with Tom and observed how the transactions went and where the stalls were. This however, was his first foray as a delivery boy alone. Tom handed him an 'enchanted bag' which would house the ingredients without weighing him down any, and a satchel of wizarding currency for Harry to pay for the shopping.

Harry knew the route well. It was a therapeutic experience for him to walk it. The morning dew had barely settled and few streaks of blood orange would streak the dark sky during his walk. The crisp morning air cleared his head. A much needed reprieve.

'My head started hurting sometimes after I got here. I wonder if it's the magic that's causing it.'

As he neared the market he heard a voice call out, "Mornin' lad!"

Harry looked to the side and spotted Mr. Flint waving to him, honing rod in hand.

"Good morning Mr. Flint!" Harry bounded over to the tall and lanky fishmonger, "I need some fish today! Mr. Tom asked for six orders of haddock."

Portemus Flint laid down the fileting knife he was sharpening as he wiped his forehead with a gloved forearm, brushing aside the thin black hair. Beady blue eyes looked at the boy as he slowly jogged to the stall. He cracked a grin of mismatched teeth, "You're in luck lad, plenty of haddock for today. Tom wants his smoked or fresh?"

"Fresh please, thank you Mr. Flint," Harry nodded his gratitude.

The fishmonger chuckled as he bent down to retrieve a fish from ice, "It'll take me a few minutes to cut this up, why don't you pick up anythin' else you need first and come back in a bit?"

Harry gave a nod and walked off, looking for Mrs. Lauch's vegetable stall. He spotted the old grocer in a brown apron and wicker sun hat chatting with a woman he'd never seen before.

He approached the pair as he observed the new woman. She looked mature, slight wrinkles in her face and faint crow's feet decorated her sharp and beautiful face, accentuated by her high cheekbones and piercing dark eyes. Her hair was tied in a neat and proper bun as she wore a loose navy dress. A small pendant hung from her neck by a thin silver necklace; her left ring finger adorned with a gold wedding band; and in her right arm a leather bag hung off the crease of her elbow.

"...cannons won't be winning any time soon dear, I'd put my money on Bul- Oh! Harry dear!" Mrs. Lauch called out as she saw him approach the stall tentatively.

"Good morning Mrs. Lauch, I'm here to pick up some vegetables for Mr. Tom. Good morning to you too Miss…" Harry greeted the woman. Now that he'd gotten closer to the stall he realised she was rather tall.

"Mrs. Weasley. Pleased to make your acquaintance young Harry," The tall - now identified - Mrs. Weasley nodded down to Harry with a gentle smile.

"Oh Cedrella dear, you haven't seen Harry around yet after your vacation have you? He's helping Tom out at the Leaky Cauldron. Such a well behaved little man," cooed the elderly vegetable seller.

Cedrella raised a brow but stored that nugget of information for later, "If only my boys could be half as decent. Speaking of which, where did that little runt run off to this time?"

Cedrella began looking around her, scanning the surroundings in search of something. Harry saw her jaw clench in irritation.

"Arthur Weasley, you have ten seconds to get back here!" Cedrella yelled out into the air.

Harry heard a glass get knocked over and the indignant shout of a shopkeeper from a few stalls away.

"Oof!"

"Hey! Watch it!"

From the disgruntled crowd of people he saw a red-haired boy in a brown chore jacket shove and squeeze his way through in an obvious panicked rush. Once he broke out from the crowd he sprinted over to the vegetable stall. He stopped in front of Cedrella and hunched over with hands on his knees to catch his breath.

"Made it mum… That was… eight seconds…" The boy muttered between pants.

"Nine. But under ten nonetheless. Straighten up Arthur. This is Harry, I believe you two should be around the same age," Cedrella grabbed Arthur's collar and pulled him ramrod straight.

"Nice to meet you mate, I'm Arthur. Arthur Weasley. Ten years old. Wicked scar." The redhead stuck his hand out for a handshake.

Cedrella slapped the back of his neck, "Don't be rude!"

"Ow! I was being nice, mum! It really is cool!" Arthur complained, as Harry smiled at the antics.

He was hardly bothered by the remark of his scar. He'd been ridiculed for it before countless times so hearing someone compliment it was a new experience.

"Harry Potter," Harry grasped the offered hand and shook it politely, "It's nice to meet you too Arthur. I'm ten as well."

He felt Cedrella stare at him for a while after he mentioned his name.

Arthur gained a glint in his eyes as he smiled, "Means you and I will be goin' to Hogwarts in the same year. Say, who's your favourite quidditch team? Is it the Cannons?"

Harry had let go of the hand and looked blankly at Arthur, "What's quidditch?"

Cedrella raised another brow but dropped it in understanding, however, Arthur's eyes widened comically large as his jaw dropped.

He grabbed Harry by the shoulders roughly and stared him straight in the eyes, "Are you feelin' alright man? How could any young wizard not know what quidditch is?!"

Mrs. Lauch reached over to pry the redhead off the stunned Harry, "The boy's just learnt he's a wizard recently. Don't go running off thinking everyone's born into wizarding households like you boy!"

Arthur's bewilderment at Harry's ignorance of quidditch gave way to feverish excitement when he heard that. He broke free of old Mrs. Lauch's grip and clamped his hands on Harry's shoulders again.

"That means you're a muggleborn right?! Oh I have so many questions to ask you about the muggles! What's a rubber ducky?! No- No- Wait more importantly, what exactly is a car, and what is its use?!" Arthur began spouting off fervent question after question about muggle life.

It took the combined physical efforts of Cedrella, Mrs. Lauch, and Harry to get him off.

"Sorry mate, I'm just really interested in muggles, is all," Arthur looked down at his shoes and sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck as his mother looked like she might strangle him at any moment.

"Its alright Arthur… I- I'll be happy to answer any questions I can about the muggles the next time I see you," Harry tried to smooth things out, fearing that Arthur would incur quite the wrath from Mrs. Weasley.

Cedrella sighed as she nursed her forehead with her hand, "You, Gregory and Charles are going to stress me into an early grave…"

"Oh come off it mum, I don't get into half as much trouble as Greg and Charlie!" whined Arthur at the accusation.

"That's because you're not in Hogwarts yet!" Cedrella smacked Arthur over the head with a bundle of leeks, "Blast the day your father convinced me to let your brothers join the quidditch team."

Arthur gulped, "I… I'll still get to join though… right?"

Cedrella narrowed her eyes at her son and sighed unhappily, "Yes. If you want to. It would be unfair of me not to, given that your brothers got to join."

Arthur's small celebration was cut short though.

"But! Your grades had better be good young man. Anything less than an 'Acceptable' in any subject and I'll burn your broom myself, you understand? If your brothers could get a bare minimum of 'acceptable' for everything I expect the same from you."

"Yes mum…" Arthur responded despondently.

Mrs. Lauch shook her head at the family antics and packed up Harry's usual order, "Here you are Harry, best get going before you waste too much time watching the Weasley Family Comedy."

Harry let off a giggle as he paid the coins and slowly packed the order into his magical bag, "Thanks Mrs. Lauch. It was a pleasure to meet you Mrs. Weasley, and you too Arthur. See you around!"

They watched Harry wave them goodbye as he disappeared into the crowd, on his way to the butcher. Cedrella looked around and realised to her chagrin that Arthur had disappeared somewhere as well. She turned to Mrs. Lauch with a questioning gaze.

"Not very common for a child to work at the Cauldron is it? Flourish & Bott's or the quidditch store would have been better options wouldn't they… And even less common for a kid to be staying alone in the Cauldron. Moreover, the boy's a Potter to boot… There's so many questions Ellie."

"I'm afraid you'll have to ask the boy for the reason behind it, it's not my story to tell 'Drella, even if I knew the details," Elizabeth Lauch brushed the dirt from the potatoes off her hand.

"From what I know, the boy was just found in Diagon Alley one day by Tom. Everyone thought he was a muggle boy that miraculously wandered in somehow, but Giselle gave him some dragon jerky and he barbecued some of the grass. That, and his distinctly Potter looks, likely means he's at least a half-blood if not more."

Cedrella put her fingers to her chin as she digested the information, "I've never seen a Potter with eyes so vibrant green before. Must have got it from his mother. So the big mystery now is why was he from the muggle world? And where are his parents? And how'd he get such a nasty scar so young?"

"Hopefully he tells us one day dear. Till then, let's give the boy some privacy," Mrs. Lauch's gaze lingered on the crowd where Harry had to slip and weave through.

Cedrella sighed and concurred.


"What kind of meat do you need today Harry?" Giselle asked the boy as he came up to view.

"Eight kilos of beef shoulder, Ms. Giselle. Thank you." Harry repeated the order from his list, "Do you have any idea where I'd find the powdered fire slugs?"

Giselle flicked her wand and a slab of meat levitated itself off a meat hook and onto the thick wooden chopping board on the table behind Giselle. Her meat cleaver began hacking away with a mind of its own as Giselle held her conversation with Harry.

"Just your luck actually. Tom already arranged the order for fire slugs from me a week back. My cousin runs a potion shop in Ireland so when he visits, he brings some ingredients along. Here, careful with them though, spicy buggers."

Giselle pulled out two small bags of red powder and passed it off to Harry.

"How have you been adjusting, Harry? Everythin' alright?" Giselle inquired.

"I've been doin' alright. Mr. Tom's very nice, I try to help him out in the kitchen as much as I can when he allows me to. Other than that I just run errands and read a bit. Mr. Tom gave me a book called "Tales of Beedle the Bard"," Harry replied.

"Ooh, that's a classic. I always liked the hopping pot. Have you made any little friends yet?"

"Just made one actually… I think. Arthur Weasley, same age as me."

"Arthur Weasley… Arthur Weasley… The little red haired runt? Obsessed with muggles?"

"That's the one."

"He's a chaotic one that's for sure. Him and his brothers have too much energy. Almost crashed into my stall on their brooms once."

"He seems nice, just a tad energetic but he's a good bloke I think."

Giselle huffed, "Just watch as he grows up. I'm not holding high hopes for that bunch."

Harry was taken aback. Giselle had always been nice to people and very welcoming in his interactions with her. He was confused why she held a stubborn dislike of Arthur of all people.

"Do you not like Arthur for some reason, Ms. Giselle?" Harry asked.

Giselle let a tired sigh escape from her lips, "It's not Arthur I dislike, Harry. It's his mother."

That added a fresh layer of confusion.

"Mrs. Weasley? What's wrong with Mrs. Weasley?" he asked with curiosity.

"Mrs. Weasley… Well, before she was Mrs. Cedrella Weasley, she was Ms. Cedrella Black. Nasty blighters, the lot of 'em!" Giselle spat.

"Ms. Cedrella… Black?"

Giselle nodded gruffly, "Once proud member of the oh so noble Black family. They're nasty, arrogant, pompous, and most of all - dangerous. They get away with all sorts of crimes just because they're rich. And they hate muggles. A mad lot this world would be better off without."

Harry shuffled uneasily as he spoke up in Cedrella's defence, "She seems like a good mother at least. She was nice to me and Mrs. Lauch."

"That's probably just Septimus' influence on her. No one escapes the Black madness. House of crazies and kooks. I know it's just bubbling under the surface, waiting to explode."

Harry screwed a grimace on his face, "I don't think that's very fair to say Ms. Giselle, she hasn't done anything wrong yet has she?"

Giselle shook her head, "You've no idea what her family is like Harry. Stay away from the Black family if you know what's good for you. You're just a kid and new here too, listen to us adults when we say there're certain people you shouldn't be buddies with."

"What's so bad about the Black family anyway?"

"They're a wicked bunch. They are one of the oldest families, they have a bunch of money and power. And they are very proud of their 'purity'. Anything less than a pureblood and they'll spit on you and treat you as trash. They can be horribly violent too," Giselle seemed to curl up within herself as she talked about the Blacks.

Harry took on a concerned frown, "Ms. Giselle?"

Giselle swallowed and looked back at Harry forlorn, "The Weasleys are a good bunch. But… try your best to stay away from the Blacks. If I'm correct about your ancestry, they won't treat you very well either."

Harry clenched his jaw, a look of steady determination.

"I'll treat them however they treat me."

Giselle looked at Harry with a small sad smile.

Chop!

Giselle and Harry both jumped at the sudden thud. They turned and saw the cleaver embedded itself into the wooden chopping block. The slabs of beef were sliced into nice thumb sized chunks for stewing.

Giselle cleared her throat and packed the meat for Harry. Likewise, Harry took out the required coins and passed it to her.

"Well, thanks for dropping by as always Harry. I apologise for losing my cool about Cedrella and Arthur. The boy's done nothing wrong but I just can't look past his mother… Pass my thanks on to Tom as well.

"Will do Ms. Giselle. Thanks for the beef and slugs… Come visit when you can."

The awkward air hung still above them.

"L-Listen Harry," Giselle started, "Don't… Just stay safe. Don't be naive when it comes to people. Some are more than what they seem."

"Got it Ms. Giselle. Thanks for worrying about me… I never really had people do that before so I'm very grateful." Harry replied.

Giselle gave a wide smile and reached out.

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Harry tried pulling his head away to get his cheek out of Giselle's pinch to no avail.

"Such a cute little boy. You'll be such a heartbreaker when you're older!" Giselle teased before letting go. Harry's cheek had nearly began turning blue and black.

Harry bid his farewells as he rubbed the sore skin, "Bye Ms. Giselle! See you!"


On his way back to the pub from the market, Harry chanced upon a curious sight. He saw a small gathering of children, eight in total. They all stood around each other, laughing and giggling as they waved small sticks at each other. They would shout phrases at each other - magic phrases Harry could conclude having observed how it's been done - and the children would pretend that they got hit with whatever spell that got called out.

He stood off to the side of the street as he observed them for a while. It seemed like a joyous activity for them, they enjoyed pretending to be their favourite wizards and witches. He heard the names "Dumbledore" and "Grindelwald" tossed around a few times too, figuring they were re-enacting some of the conflicts.

'Must not have gotten their wands yet…' Harry noted, '... otherwise real magic would be coming out.'

Various terms were being called out. Harry wondered where they learnt them from seeing as they looked as young as he was.

"Incendio!"

"Expulso!"

"Bombarda!"

"Stupefy!"

"Expelliarmus!"

One dark haired boy in particular had acted like he'd been blown away by a spell, jumping backwards into a soft pile of sand. The others giggled as they watched his theatrics.

"Your time has come Grindelwald!" He heard one of the girls in an olive green dress shout at the boy in the sand.

'I wonder if they'll let me join… I don't know any spells or anything though… It might be pretty awkward.'

His mind drifted to his own experiences with playground groups. He remembered a time before Dudley's group had forced him into reclusivity. Where he hung out in a playground as they played tag and other games in the warm summer heat. He'd fallen off the swing seat once or twice when the others had begun jostling for a turn on the swing but he didn't care too much. He'd been having fun. He continued with sandy bottoms and a wide smile.

Harry's dive into his pool of memories was interrupted by the unnatural silence. The kids weren't laughing and shouting any more. He looked at the group and saw them quiet, and huddled near each other as they looked at a new girl that had joined them.

He witnessed the apprehension apparent in the group. They looked at the new girl like a herd of gazelles staring at a lion. Any closer the girl approached and the group would be liable to scatter.

"I wanna play too," stated the new girl.

Even through her baby fat, Harry could still see faint tracings of her sharp features, namely her cheekbones and jaw. Her heavy lidded eyes narrowed as she tapped her foot impatiently. She was dressed in a simple black dress, belted with brown. Knee-high white socks and white-laced light blue canvas shoes covered what was below the hem of her dress. Her long black hair flowed over her features, reaching down to her shoulders. Harry thought he could see a little resemblance to Arthur's mother, Cedrella.

"Well?" The black haired girl briskly demanded.

The once rowdy crowd had been reduced to a hesitant gathering. Each looking at one another, eyes daring the other to speak first. Everyone teetered awkwardly from right to left, attempting to find their best excuse. Until one had finally swallowed drily and cleared his throat to speak up.

"Momma says I have to head home now actually…" One of the boys commented before turning and walking off briskly.

"Yeah me too…"

"I'm not feeling well actually…"

"I heard my dad calling for me…"

One by one the excuses trickled in as the children made their hasty retreats from the new girl. She'd begun looking angrier with each person that turned tail. Harry wondered what might have happened to cause this obvious reluctance to interact with the new girl in the group. Was it a similar situation to his, where someone else was keeping them away from her? Or was it the opposite where she was the one causing it?

"You're going too Alice?" the girl asked the remaining person, a blonde girl.

'Alice' looked down guiltily as she rubbed her arm, "You're just too violent sometimes Bellatrix… My mother told me she'd ban me from any playing until I go to Hogwarts if she catches me with another bruise… I'm sorry but I have to go."

Alice had turned in spot and began a quick jog to disappear from view of Bellatrix.

Harry noted the slight quiver in Bellatrix's lips and the shine blanketing her eyes. She gripped the stick in her hand tightly, as she clenched her jaw. She muttered something under her breath and Harry could only catch a scant few words.

"Never… Me… Play with… Serious… No one…"

At the end of her little self dialogue, she swung the stick in her arm with all the strength that she could muster at the bench near her. A loud thwack! later, she was left holding one half of the stick while the other flew off elsewhere. Empathy and pity filled Harry.

As Bellatrix flung the remaining half of the wood in her hands to the ground in a fit and began to stalk off, Harry dashed over without thinking.

"Hey! Wait up!" he called out.

Bellatrix craned her neck and looked back over her shoulder at the approaching boy.

'I've never seen him here before,' she thought.

Harry reached down to pick up the two halves of the broken stick and offered one to Bellatrix.

"I'll play with you," Harry stated.

Bellatrix looked at him with narrowed eyes as she seemed to scan him from head to toe and back up. Distrust evident in her gaze. She crossed her arms as she stared at Harry.

"Why?" She asked plainly.

"Huh? W-well… I wanted to play too actually," Harry answered sheepishly.

"Who are you? I haven't seen you before," Bellatrix asked.

"I'm Harry. I'm new to the area actually," Harry explained.

"Like I haven't heard that before… Well, Harry, if you want to make friends with my cousin, go do it yourself. I'm not going to help do it for you," Bellatrix spat bitterly.

Harry looked back at her in confusion, "Your… cousin? What's your cousin have to do with anything?"

It was Bellatrix's turn to be confused, "You don't know who I am?"

"Like I said, I'm new here. I don't really know anyone to be honest," Harry told her.

She sniffed lightly and rubbed her eyes lightly with her forearm.

"And you're not afraid of me?" She asked as her view centred back to Harry.

"Should I be?" Harry raised a brow.

Bellatrix glared at Harry before snatching her half of the stick from his hands.

"I'm Bellatrix," she stuck her small hand out for a handshake.

Harry tilted his head, waiting for her to continue.

"I'm not telling you my surname if that's what you're waiting for," she narrowed her eyes at him.

"Why not?" Harry questioned.

"Why do I have to? Not like you'd know the name being new here and all,"

"Fair point…" Harry conceded.

He stuck his own hand out and shook the hand she presented, "I'm Harry."

"Surname?"

"Hey! Why do I have to tell you mine when you didn't tell me yours?" Harry complained.

"It's important for me to know. Now…" He felt her squeeze his hand harder, "Surname?"

Harry met her glare with defiance and began squeezing her hand harder too. He wanted to stay silent out of principle. But his rational mind took over and he calmed down.

"Potter. Harry Potter," He told her finally.

He saw her look at him with judging eyes. A look that seemed to analyse him from head to toe as she performed her own mental calculations.

"I suppose Potter's good enough," she muttered, just audible enough for Harry to catch it.

Bellatrix raised her brow slightly as they broke the handshake, "So a Potter… Hm… How come you're new here then?"

Harry winced slightly, "It's a long story… I'm not even sure how I ended up here myself honestly. I wouldn't know where to even begin."

Bellatrix held a deadpan stare at him.

He raised his hands, "I really don't know. Honest."

She sighed and shook her head, "Well, whatever. As long as you're willing to play I guess it doesn't matter. Let's play Aurors and Acolytes."

"Um…" Harry began, "I… Don't know how to…"

She turned to him gobsmacked, "You don't know how to play Aurors and Acolytes?!"

Harry frowned at her, "Yeah, I'm new here remember?"

She smacked a hand to her forehead in exasperation, "I didn't know you meant that you just crawled out from a rock you've been living in."

She crouched down in the sand, dragging Harry down to a crouch beside her too. She began tracing outlines in the sand with her half of the stick.

"One person is the Auror. The other is the Acolyte. The Acolyte has to run away from the Auror and the Auror has to catch the Acolyte," She traced two stick people in the sand.

"But the Auror can only catch the Acolyte by tapping them with his wand," She gestured to the stick in her hands.

"The Acolyte has to run away for three minutes to win. The Auror has to catch the Acolyte within those three minutes to win. After each round, the Auror switches," She traced a "3" in the sand along with an hourglass.

Harry nodded along to the explanation. It seemed simple enough. Just a game of cops and robbers.

"Hang on, how do we keep time? Neither of us has a watch," Harry asked.

Bellatrix smirked and reached into her dress pocket and pulled out a small hourglass filled with green sand, "Three minutes, exact."

Harry gulped, 'She must be a pro at this to come prepared…'

"I'll be the Acolyte first. You'll be the Auror," Bellatrix declared their roles.

"Oh, one more rule too," Bellatrix added as she placed the hourglass down.

Harry watched the sand falling in the hourglass with nervousness, "Which is?"

Bellatrix gave a feral grin, "Magic's allowed. Tag!"

She sprung to her feet and pointed her palm at Harry, who felt an invisible force give him a slight push and he wobbled and tumbled into the sand, flat on his behind.

"Hey! That's cheating!" Harry scrambled to get to his feet.

"It's in the rules you sore loser!" Bellatrix laughed as she ran, Harry sprinting after her.

She jumped over the swing and repeated the same motion with her hand, sending the swing seat into Harry's shins as he chased after her, "Slowpoke! Slowpoke!"

Harry growled in pain as he shoved the swing seat aside and sped up.

Bellatrix ducked under one side of the seesaw and pulled it down with her hand as she ran past. Harry wouldn't fall for the same thing twice though. He diverted his path slightly and leapt over the middle of the seesaw closest to the ground and continued his dogged pursuit of the girl.

What surprised Harry most in this little game they played was how athletic Bellatrix was. He was earnestly trying his best, and yet she looked to be taking it easy on him, taunting him even.

Bellatrix stood at a mass of climbable iron bars and stuck her tongue out at Harry, blowing a raspberry.

Irritation started fueling Harry's pace to be quicker than he thought possible. As he got closer he saw her start scaling the climbing dome. He chased her to the top of the dome, swiping at her dress and barely missing as she slipped between the bars and landed in the middle of the dome below him.

"My grandma's faster than you Harry! You'll never catch me!"

Harry spotted the hourglass and saw only a small sliver of the green sand left in the top half.

He ran full throttle at Bellatrix, who still took the occasional chance to look back and taunt Harry.

'Just a little faster! Just a little more!' Harry concentrated.

He'd given up on trying to out run the cheeky little girl and instead tried to figure out where she'd zig and zag and duck to next. He traced her form with his eyes keenly. He saw her head turn slightly to the left and he followed her vision, spotting another possible obstacle for her to put in his way in the form of a slide.

'She's going… there!' Harry predicted. He began sprinting left.

'She's…'

'Going…'

'There!'

Harry was unsure what happened. One moment there was a sizable gap between himself and Bellatrix, who was nearing the slide. Then he felt as if time had slowed slightly, the vision around him blurred as he felt himself getting yanked forward from his midsection. Then, as if a movie scene skipped a beat, he found himself next to Bellatrix as a loud pop rang in his ear. He stumbled forward with his hand holding his 'wand' outstretched.

Bellatrix seemed shocked too. One moment Harry was as slow as a turtle, suddenly she heard a shocking pop and turned back and right there he was, stick in his hand jutting forward - about to tag her.

Before the stick could make contact with Bellatrix's cheek though, a rooster's call rang out. The last grain of green sand had filtered to the bottom half. The point for the round went to Bellatrix. Harry couldn't control the momentum though, he ended up jabbing the stick slightly into Bellatix's soft cheek as he fell forward. She recoiled at the pain and fell backwards over the slide too.

"Ow…"

"Ouch…"

They both groaned simultaneously. Bellatrix rubbed her sore cheek, blue and black already began forming. Harry battled to keep the contents of his stomach in place as he nursed the sandy abrasions on his shins from falling.

"I win that round! Take that Harry!" Bellatrix triumphantly declared.

"Only because you cheated at the start!" Harry protested while he shakily stood.

"Nuh uh! That's magic! It's allowed!" Bellatrix defended, getting off the sand and brushing her dress.

"Hmph!" Harry huffed.

"Sore loser! If you think it's so easy then why don't you run from me then?!" Bellatrix challenged, "I'd catch you in a minute flat!"

"You're on!" Harry geared up for the second round, he was still panting but he wasn't about to back down from a challenge.

He went to pick up the hourglass and turn it when his blood drained from his face in realisation.

'Hang on… what time is it?'

He looked back at the groceries he left on the ground in horror, 'I have to get back to Mr. Tom!'

He bolted past a confused Bellatrix, tossing her the hourglass along the way.

"Sorry Bellatrix! I have to go! I forgot I have to bring these to Mr. Tom!" Harry shouted.

"Mr. Tom? As in Leaky Cauldron's Tom? Why are you running errands for him?" Bellatrix shouted her question back from the sandy playground as she watched Harry fumbling to pick up the bags in a rush.

"I live there! I need to pay him back somehow, it's all he lets me do most of the time…" Harry finally got a good grip on his bags and prepared to dash off, "It was nice playing with you Bellatrix! See you around!"

"See you around Harry!" Bellatrix waved him goodbye with a disappointed expression.

She started hearing calls for her name as Harry left. She saw her mother turn the corner at look at her with a furious expression.

"Bellatrix Black! How many times have I told you not to wander off by yourself! Do you have any idea how much trouble you've caused me?! Come here!" her mother gripped her by the ear tightly and painfully as she began dragging the girl along.

"Ow! Ouch! Sorry Mother! I won't do it again!" Bellatrix trotted along, lest she lose her ear.

"None of that little girl! That's what you said last time!"

Bellatrix tutted in disappointment. She looked as far back as she could with her mother's death grip on her earlobe. She spied the figure of a running Harry with his bags getting smaller and smaller in the distance. She put a hand to her chin as she thought to herself.

'Leaky Cauldron huh?'


A/N: I hope you enjoy the chapter as much as I enjoyed my holiday in Hong Kong. Constructive criticism is always welcomed. Cheers!