Watching Dochia as she raised her glass, he followed suit with his own glass barely filled with wine, murmuring a small cheers before taking a sip and digging into his food. He watched as Dochia, before drinking herself, looked at Tom. The moment he had his back turned, she spilt a bit of her wine on her floor, whispering 'For the souls of the departed', before drinking herself.

A sip of good wine before his birthday, was another saying and tradition that Harry had grown up with.

"Breakfast, Miss Moruzi?"

"Please, Tom, after all these years… Dochia is fine." she flashed him a smile as she went down the stairs, covering the remains of a yawn with her mouth.

Not having slept in the Muggle train from Romania to London had certainly had an effect on her, and she wished she would have taken this into account when she had accepted Dumbledore's short notice invitation to meet at this hour in the morning. Yet she couldn't afford to as much as doze off for a second, not when travelling through several countries with the boy. There hasn't been a single whisper of an attack in years, and it was only

"No, thanks, Tom, I have to meet with Professor Dumbledore, surely he'll find it in his heart to feed me something." she laughed, arranging her dusty old shawl. "Mind, would you give Harry this letter when he comes down?"

Tom nodded, sticking the note in his apron, before nodding towards a wizard with a purple turban, a few tables away from them. He was a young fellow with trembling hands, whose stirring of his tea brought on a constant clicking sound. Dochia wondered for a moment why Tom would point him out, before he elucidated the mystery.

"With mister Potter starting school in a few weeks, you may want to know, that's one of the professors he'll have. Defence Against the Dark Arts, professor Quirrell."

"Is that so?" Dochia replied, interested. She knew Minerva McGonagall, and Dumbledore, of course, however she had not had the pleasure of meeting or knowing any other professors that would teach Harry.

Having heard his name, the young wizard turned, and faced the two, quizzically looking at them. Taking advantage of the fact that they were the only three in the Leaky Cauldron, Dochia felt comfortable to introduce herself in public to a stranger as Harry's guardian, and slightly lifted her robes with one hand as she approached him, raising the other hand to shake his.

"Pleasure to meet you, professor. Dochia Moruzi, I am Harry Potter's guardian. He'll be studying from September with yourself, I believe?"

"P-p-pleasure's all mine, m-m-miss M-Moruzi. Quirinus Q-Quirrell." he raised himself from the table and his cup of tea, surprised. "I b-b-believe so, he will, yes." he extended his own hand, shaking hers. "I apologise, I heard of you in L-L-London before, b-b-but I thought you were simply a n-n-nanny."

"In some sense, I am, professor." she laughed, trying not to think about his damp, clammy hands too much as she retreated her hand. "Take care of him, when you see him in school, will you? He's not yet the wizard they all make him out to be."

The next morning, he had already forgotten it was his birthday, until his foot touched the ribbon of a package laid at the end of his bed. He pulled the duvet away, and unwrapped them carefully, one by one. Self-shuffling cards from Gavril, his friend back home. An enormous box of plum jam pastries and a pair of socks with red thread running alongside them, from Despina, his elderly neighbour from across the street, who would always gift him clothing with red thread sewn into them, saying it would protect him from evil. And the passing of every year with him unharmed only proved her point more.

'Just put on her stuff, go all the way up that linden tree and jump down. That'll show her.' would more often than not be the advice given, no matter who he'd complain to.

There were many linden trees where he grew up, and not much imagination.

Harry unwrapped a few more gifts from his friends and neighbours, and surprisingly, there it was. In a crumpled, tea-stained envelope that had certainly been re-used and re-packed without much thought, was the gift from aunt Petunia. He always wondered why she kept sending these letters and presents, as they obviously gave her no joy. Inside was a U-shaped, plastic tool that not only was chipped, but had one side snapped. Harry turned it on all sides, trying to figure what use it could have, but he could not figure for the life of him what the object was supposed to be. Maybe his aunt was finally warming up to him and sent him some sort of riddle or puzzle?

A nice thought to have, at least.

He scratched his head and gave up, thinking that maybe Dochia knew what it could be used for. Harry got dressed quickly before leaving his room, and knocked on her door without answer. He tried to open it to no avail, almost hitting his nose against the wood.

It was Tom that elucidated the mystery for him as he went downstairs for breakfast.

"Good morning, Mr. Potter. A note from Miss Moruzi- she left in a hurry a few hours ago. Gave her apologies."

Harry opened the short note, surprised that his guardian would be absent from his birthday, for the first time that he could remember. He wondered if this was another test of hers, either for him to prove his independence or to get him used to being alone. He hoped it wouldn't be the latter.

Morning Harry,

Happy Birthday! I'm sorry I've left you alone on this day. An emergency arose, but I will be finished in a couple of hours. If you want to start school shopping, go to Gringotts - you will need more than you think, twenty Galleons should do as a start. Get some robe measurements, have fun - if you finish by noon, we can meet in front of Ollivander's for your wand.

Kisses,

Dochia

There have been many occasions Harry had been left to fend for himself. However, this was the first time he had to do so in Great Britain, and the first time he had to go to the bank himself. His first point of action when he reached Gringotts was to examine the other customers. He watched two formal-looking wizards discuss the latest fumble made by the Holyhead Harpies in the qualifiers, and filled himself up with self-assurance. He could do it.

People do it every day, how hard could it be?

"Hi, I, uh- Good morning. My name's Harry Potter, and… well-" That certainly played better in his head.

"Key?" The goblin rolled his eyes, and Harry couldn't help but feel like an idiot in his attempt to imitate the other wizards. If anything, he rather resembled the two Muggle parents of a bushy-haired witch to his right, with the father trying to understand the currency exchange.

Harry dug through his trousers and unfolded his Hogwarts envelope and pulled out his letter and key, stuck together with the wax stamp. Fumbling as the goblin tapped his nails against the desk, he unstuck the wax stamp from the key and handed it to the goblin, and waited. He wondered if that was really the only thing he needed, and hoped that he wouldn't be stuck in his room for hours on end, waiting for Dochia to come back and tell him a secret password or answer to a riddle - no, that was stupid, goblins don't do riddles. Oh, gosh, or do they?

"Follow me."

Waking up from his daydreaming, Harry took the key back and made a sharp turn to go after the goblin, only to bump into something massive. That was odd, he hadn't noticed that wall there before - but before he could move, the wall itself moved away, with an apology in a voice he recognised.

"Oh, sorry th-... Well, I'll be… What're yeh doin' here, Harry?" Hagrid put an enormous, pan-sized hand on his head, ruffling his hair in what must have been a light fashion for Hagrid, yet one Harry had to brace his legs on the ground for. "Haven't seen yeh in ages!"

"I just got my Hogwarts letter, and-" he smiled as Hagrid's eyes lit up at the news, only to be interrupted by the goblin stating he didn't have all day. "Ah, Hagrid I've got to go… Unless you want to come with me? I just have to take some money."

Surely those two confident wizards slagging off the Harpies were so confident because there were two of them.

Hagrid looked at the goblin, as if awaiting acceptance, before nodding and reaching out to him with a piece of paper.

"Well, if yer sure Harry… Is it alright if-" The goblin extended his hand, and took out the letter, in a motion Harry could only describe as please-let-me-be-done-with-you-quickly. "That's a letter there from Professor Dumbledore." Hagrid said gravely, taking a pause as the goblin unfolded it and started reading. When he continued, his voice was a whisper, albeit with the reverberation in Hagri's voice, Harry could hear every single word. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

"That's in order." the goblin folded it back, and put it in his waistcoat, before motioning to the both of them to follow him through one of the doors leading out of the main hall.

Harry stepped out of Gringotts with about thirty Galleons stuffed in his pocket, trying his best not to be crushed by a stumbling Hagrid.

"I heard lemons are good for this."

"D'ya have a lemon?" Hagrid swayed as he stepped down the stairs, before collapsing onto a nearby bench. "Phew - I'll tell ya Harry, tha's why I hold all o' me money under me pillow."

Harry took a seat near him, thinking whether he should voice his concerns. "You shouldn't say where your money is, Hagrid."

"Ah, bollocks, what're ye gonna do, Harry, hunt for them Sickles under the bed?" Hagrid winked.

Hagrid was one of the only people in England he really enjoyed spending time with. He knew Hagrid had taken him from his house on the fateful night his parents died, and Dochia ensured that they kept in touch and when nearby, would visit him. Sometimes, he wished he would be related to Hagrid more than his actual family.

"How's life, Harry? Dook still treating ye good?" What started as a mistake of Hagrid once mispronouncing Dochia's name soon became a running joke among the two of them - and Harry had to admit he had a list of favourite 'Hagrid names', and at the top of that list was 'Ducky', although he would never tell Dochia that.

"It's all good there, yeah. We came to London yesterday, and, well, I got my letter to Hogwarts!" Harry handed it over to Hagrid, watching the half-giant's eyes light up as he opened the envelope and looked over the letter. "She was going to come with me to shop for what I need, but said she had something to do."

"Yesterday, huh?" Hagrid quickly interjected, getting up from the bench. "Yesterday, you got the letter… Blimey, ye should've said a thing! A very, merry, happy birthday, Harry!"

With both hands, Hagrid clasped his shoulders with a smile barely visible from under his beard, and once again Harry had to brace himself against the ground, not to fall under the weight. He thanked Hagrid, who was looking around the stores, moving his head around.

"Ye haven't got yer animal by chance…?"

Harry shook his head.

"Perfect! Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal - come on. I can't not, after forgetting yer birthday!" With one hand still on his shoulder, talking about the craziest pets students tried to claim were an 'overgrown cat' or 'exotic owl', Hagrid dragged him over to Eeylops Owl Emporium.

Harry had to admit to himself, as he entered the store, that he would quite enjoy having an owl. On the counter, he grabbed one of the leaflets with owl facts, and his eyes rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for - their lifespan. He looked over at the pictures of owls flapping their wings about in the leaflet but he could only think about his pet cat Felix. When he found Felix, the poor sod was already old and slow, and it only made it a few more years. Dochia had reassured him constantly that they probably gave Felix a good few years he wouldn't have otherwise had, but the first thing Harry remembered when thinking back on his cat was finding Felix, that one morning in the dead of winter, curled up on the stove, unmovable, stiff, and very much dead.

"Look, this one's a beaut! Has the same eyes like that cat ye had."

Harry turned around towards Hagrid, putting the booklet in his pocket. He raised his eyes, and was faced with a beautiful snowy owl, who looked at him inquisitively with its large, amber eyes. His eyebrows rose as he approached the cage, and put a finger out. Harry watched the owl approach gently, and he lightly stroked its head.

"I don't know, Hagrid. Owls don't live that long, do they?"

"They do with care, Harry. You'd be surprised! I've seen owls live well in their twenties - sure, they can't fly much and are fussy with the mail, won't deliver most things, but they're happy." As he spoke, Hagrid's voice turned cheerful, and he picked up the owl's tag stuck on the cage. "And she's pretty young."

Harry nodded, looking at the owl. Her eyes reminded him of Felix indeed, and Harry expected him to feel awful in replacing his last pet, yet instead he could only feel a warm, fuzzy feeling inside his stomach as he looked at the owl and petted it.

"So? What's yer verdict, Harry? Taking the little feller?"

"I- I think I will, Hagrid. If you're sure you want to-" Hagrid nodded, the force of it making several cages hung on the ceiling move, their owners hooting annoyed.

Harry grinned, and thanked him for the owl - as he picked up the cage, as Hagrid paid, and as they exited the store, holding the cage carefully, as if he held a fragile glass ornament.

"Ach, stop with the thanks, Harry! Least I can do."

"You always did a lot for me- you came for me when my parents… well, when Voldemort - oh, sorry!" Harry apologised as Hagrid shuddered, before continuing. "What if someone else, one of the Death Eaters came for me before you did?"

Hagrid opened his mouth, but didn't answer, simply looking down. There was a shadow over his face as he tucked his chin in his beard, and seemed to ponder his question. Harry couldn't help but wonder if there was something Hagrid did not want to talk about. There was only another time when Harry saw Hagrid like this, and it was when he asked him about why he was expelled from Hogwarts.

Wanting to change the subject away from it, Harry pondered. He still had to buy books, and a cauldron, and… oh, the robe measurements. Oh, of course, and his wand! He whipped his head to look at an enormous clock placed at the top of Gringotts, and realised he was supposed to meet Dochia by now. Perfect change of subject!

"Hagrid, do you know where Ollivander's is?"

Hagrid nodded in agreement, and Harry continued by asking if he knows what's the best way to care for owls. As he expected, Hagrid launched into a rhetoric of what people think is the best thing when it comes to their feed, and how it's mostly just being misled by the latest ads in the Daily Prophet.

Led by Hagrid, Harry noticed Ollivander's storefront at the same time as he noticed his guardian. A tall figure in orange robes, he couldn't have missed her. Harry approached her with a sheepish smile. He felt like a small child again, bringing his future pet cat home. Lifting Felix up by his front paws, until the cat was almost his size, and shoving his head in Dochia's face. This time, he lifted the cage slowly, and waited for her reaction.

"And what's this?" she finally asked, crossing her arms. Despite the seemingly serious tone, a smile was creeping up her face.

"Hagrid- uh, got me an owl, for Hogwarts. As a birthday present. I can keep it, right?"

"Of course you can, sweetheart. Bad luck falls on the people refusing someone on their birthday."

"That true?" Hagrid piped up, and Harry was happy to see that Hagrid seemed better.

"Old superstition." she grabbed Harry by the shoulders, and gave him a quick peck on the top of his head. "Say, have you done anything else apart from shop for owls?"

"Not much… I went to Gringotts, and I was spending time with Hagrid. And we got her." He raised the cage again.

Dochia nodded, and rapped her fingers against his shoulders.

"Do you want to make a start and go inside? There's just something I want to talk to Hagrid about. I'll come with you in a moment." she put her fingers on top of the cage, and Harry let go of his owl, before stepping inside Ollivander's. Before closing the door, he looked back, yet both of them had their bodies turned away from him. Yet Harry couldn't help but notice Dochia had her head at an odd angle, as if she was covertly waiting for him to close the door fully before turning her head fully away from him.

Harry turned around, and heard a tinkling bell coming from the depths of the store. Suddenly, it was very quiet. The noises from the outside world completely faded, and Harry was now very aware, and very conscious of the noise his own breathing made. He tried to slow his breathing in vain to make it quieter, jolting up as he heard a soft 'Good afternoon'. He straightened his back, and turned towards what was most likely mister Ollivander. An old man, with a pale face and paler eyes was now in front of him, smiling kindly.

"H- good afternoon." Harry awkwardly mumbled. With a deep breath, he took a step forward, ready to soon leave the store with a wand.