Remus Lupin, a sickly yet handsome looking man that looked to be in his early thirties, stood with his hands buried deeply in his tattered brown coat as he watched the football game being played out before him. He was chewing the inside of the scarf wrapped around his neck anxiously; this looked to be shaping up to be one of those 'close ones' that were bad for his heart and health.
The rather cold weather was usually a good deterrent for anyone who wanted to spend their Sunday mornings outside, but for Remus, the temperature didn't matter. What mattered to him was watching his adopted charge give it his all to win his side the championship.
Said child was dressed immaculately in a navy blue and white football kit, his shirt perfectly tucked in and his socks pulled up high – a vast contrast to his scruffy looking team mates. The boy was Harry Potter, the most brilliant, determined and intelligent young individual he had ever had the pleasure of knowing.
Remus had adopted the boy not long after his third birthday when his father had been killed and his mother had fallen into a coma.
Neither of them liked to talk about how that came to pass. Remus was, after all, very close friends with his parents, they were like family.
Despite the tragic circumstances that lead to Harry's ever so brief stay at the orphanage, Remus had made it his mission in life to provide the boy with everything he needed, and make sure he was as happy as possible.
It would be a lie if someone were to say that Harry was a difficult child, because it just wasn't true. The boy may have a twisted, witty and often sarcastic sense of humour that would show itself whenever the boy grew irritated, it was one of the things he grew to love about the boy – one of his unique quirks. It was a unique, amusing and yet humbling experience to have intellectual arguments with a boy he was trying his hardest to raise, but he'd be lying if he didn't say it was a pleasant one.
At first, when Remus had adopted the boy, he was a mess. Having basically witnessed the attack on his parents that ruined their lives, it was quite understandable. The traumatic experience had a lasting affect on the boy. He often spent most of his days back ten in his room, sitting at his desk, and staring out the window at the sky for hours. It was extremely hard to get the boy to speak more than a few words to anyone, and when he did, it was a simple greeting before he clammed up again.
Remus had briefly considered therapy for the boy before the most amazing thing happened; Harry started to open up to him when the boy expressed a willingness, nay, a need to learn and acquire knowledge. Harry would often spy him on most nights with a glass of Brandy and a good book, reading in silence as they each pretended that the other didn't know they were there.
As a child, Remus had always been one to believe that knowledge was power, and that those without it were doomed to be weak and fail in life. It was a view of the world that Harry eventually adopted from his guardian and opted the boy to ask for some home schooling, Remus was more than happy to oblige, secretly glad the boy opened up to him. It eventually proved to be the basis of their bond, one that Remus was more than happy to cultivate.
Why home schooling and not enlist in a regular school, you might ask?
There were a few reasons, both bizarre and fascinating alike. One reason was that Remus wanted to teach the child personally first to see if Harry's inquisitive mind was any sign of his intelligence. Suffice to say, Remus was satisfied with the results.
The second reason was more bizarre than fascinating though; the bulk of what Remus would be teaching Harry just wouldn't be available to the boy if he enlisted in any of the public or private schools London provided – heck, any other school in the world for that matter. What he, of course, was referring to was that the both of them were a part of a world that existed completely parallel to the regular, mundane world.
Harry and Remus belonged to the world of magic where people could utilize and control a spiritual force from within them to perform supernatural and miraculous phenomenon that regular people would think impossible!
Remus could hardly expect the local public school, or private for that matter, to cater to that particular aspect of Harry's life, mainly because the average, non-magical folk – better known as muggles – were strictly forbidden from knowing about the magical world unless they were related to someone who was a part of it. Several hundred years ago with the muggles hosting their witch burnings in the middle of their town squares destroyed any notions witches or wizards may have had for a peaceful coexistence.
How did this affect Harry's schooling though? Well, usually it wouldn't, but Harry was a special case. With a mind that would have anyone label the boy as a genius and an understandable desire and thirst to learn about magic and all that it entails, Remus felt it was his duty to oblige his charge and teach him all that he wanted to learn. So long as Harry promised to keep up with his muggle studies, Remus indulged the child and taught him whatever he asked to learn of magic – the boy seemed to flourish under those conditions.
This is what brought them to the here and now. At the age of eight, Harry had taken an interest in football and had asked to join the local team so he could play. Remus, believing that an active lifestyle would be beneficial for the boy, didn't hesitate in allowing Harry to play for Highbury United, the closest team to their home.
If Remus wasn't certain that Harry couldn't perform magic wandlessley, he would have sworn that the boy was performing some sort of magic on the field as he played. The boy seemed to be naturally gifted at the sport, the coach having immediately placed him in the midfield where he flourished after realizing his incredible talent. Remus didn't boast to anyone about this, but it was clear that Harry was the best player on the team; it was also why he enjoyed coming to watch so much.
The ninety minutes of the match were almost up, and unless something changed, it looked like the game would go into extra time. Normally, that wouldn't be a big issue, but with the fact that their side had suffered a red card when one of their defenders mouthed off to the referee forced them to pick up the slack to cover the empty slot. Brilliant footballers for their age, they may be, but they were still just kids. Their side looked to be running on their last breath, and unless something happened, Remus doubted they would have the legs to run out and continue to perform during extra time.
Remus breath hitched in his throat as Harry received the ball from their goalkeeper in the midfield. Harry would make something happen, that's why the coach loved him so much. The boy's ability to pull out brilliant plays, virtually from his ass, was why he was so good at the game; that and he had a wicked right foot.
From the dead centre of the ground, Harry gave a long, through ball down the middle of the park to their forward. The boy was surrounded by defenders and couldn't do much other than turn his back on the goal and look for a team mate to pass it off to. Imagine his surprise when he sees Harry running to the edge of the eighteen yard box at full pace, his man having chosen to run after the ball and attack the 'more dangerous' forward instead of marking Harry like he should have.
The forward let of a short pass in the space Harry was running to, hoping the boy was pleased with the positioning of the ball.
It didn't seem to matter regardless. Harry's contact with the ball was nothing less than spectacular. Remus watched with open mouthed shock as the ball was, at one second, at Harry feet, and the next, in the back of the net. It was a Rocket shot! The keeper never stood a chance and the defenders couldn't even see it!
The moment of stunned silence ceased as parents, siblings and players of Highbury United alike erupted in loud cheers. The game was practically over now! That had to have been the last play! The tin ceiling of the underground area rumbled as the cheering, stamping and screaming of the onlookers shook the very foundations of the small, shed like area they were all crowded in to shield themselves from the cold.
Before Remus could understand what was going on, Janine, a single mother to one of the other boys on the team grabbed both his cheeks in a strong grip and planted a large wet kiss right on his lips that lasted for a good few seconds. If Remus wasn't so stunned by her forwardness, he probably would have opened his mouth to allow for the tongue, as things were though, he was slightly surprised, to say the least. God bless single, hot, football mothers.
Shaking out of his daze, Remus was able to see Harry running back to his position so they could kick off again, leaving his team mates behind to continue celebrating. The sight of Harry eyeing him from his position with an amused expression was enough to properly fluster the man.
Harry Potter sat on his bed holding his most prized possession under his right arm, strumming its strings absent-mindedly to the tune of the first song he learned to play on it. The object that he treasures above all else was none other then his mother's guitar, the very same one she used to play to him to get him to sleep as a child. He never remembered it all that well, but, if he really tried, he could vaguely recall flashes of her sitting by his bed and humming the tune to some of her favourite songs as she played them to him, it always seemed to soothe him.
Ever since he had obtained the guitar from Remus as a birthday gift for his eighth birthday, he made it a mission to learn to play it as well as she did, if nothing then for just a tribute to the mother he was robbed of as a child. At first it was stressful learning to play the complicated instrument, considering he had no real teachers to learn from; rather, he just had his mother music books with her favourite songs of all time written in them. It didn't take too long for him to master the very first song in the book, which was coincidently his mother's favourite piece.
Hotel California, by the Eagles.
Sure, in retrospect, it probably wasn't the best idea for an eight year old to try and learn to play the song that was credited to have one of the best guitar solos of all time in it; his fingers were barely long enough at the time to reach every note! However, once he learned that it was his mother's favourite song to play form her music book, it became a personal mission for him to learn and master it – he went at it with the same fierce determination he used when attempting to learn anything in his life.
It had taken him the better part of a year to get the song down to the point where he could play it while reading the notes from the book, and while most would say that it was a waste of time, especially given the circumstances, the satisfaction for Harry to be able to connect with his mother on some level more than made up for it.
Sure, he could have asked Remus to get him a teacher, and it would have been an easy task for him to do so. However, for some unexplainable reason, he extremely disliked sharing his guitar, or his ability to play with anyone other than his mother herself.
What Harry found amusing was that once he had learned to play the first song in his mother's music book, every other song after it came much more easily. He often wondered if she had purposefully intended to learn that particular song first so that playing the instrument would come easier for her too. The possibility that Harry shared another commonality with his mother always brought a smile to his face.
He often wondered if whether his desire to connect with his mother on such a level bordered on obsessive, but when he thought about it, he felt honoured to be able to do so. It wasn't that he didn't respect or take pride in his father, because that simply wasn't the case, but ever since the tragic incident when he was three years old that tore his family apart, he felt indebted to his mother. It was a debt he believed he would never be able to repay.
He never liked thinking about that night, but his mind often drifted to the incident when he played his guitar whether he wanted to or not. His father had died that night, and moved on to the next life, but his mother had suffered a much worse fate in his opinion, and it was all to protect him.
Bellatrix Lestrange. The name caused him to almost lose his place in his song as a wave of hate washed through him. The woman, along with three of her terrorist friends had attacked his home in an effort to locate their missing lord during the last great Wizarding war. The woman was a Death Eater, or rather, a servant of the Dark Lord Voldemort, who believed that one's purity of blood should dictate their status in the Wizarding world, often committing atrocities and crimes against humanity to get their point across. He didn't see the logic behind such an ideology.
His father had been killed in the attack on his home, he had been told, once the events of the attack became known by the Wizarding authorities. Four people attacked their home, all of them some of Voldemort's most powerful enforcers. His father, James Potter, attempted to defend his family by taking them all on at once, only to be killed by a loose beam from the ceiling of their burning house falling and hitting him hard over the head. This however, didn't occur until he successfully subdued three of the four Death Eaters. James Potter died a hero.
The fourth Death Eater, Bellatrix, had snuck behind the fighting men up the stairs to where his mother was guarding him in his room. The two, according to the reports, traded fierce and powerful spells for a while, but his mother was simply the better duellist, and witch; however, skill wasn't always the deciding factor when fighting terrorists. Before his mother could incapacitate Bellatrix, she had fired off an unknown dark curse at him, a curse that his mother had taken for him by jumping in the way of it after he sent a stunning spell at the Death Eater.
All four death eaters were apprehended and sent to the harshest prison in the Wizarding world, and even though they had failed in attempting to locate their master, they had succeeded in destroying his family. His father was killed while valiantly holding off three powerful wizards and his mother was put in a magical coma of the likes Wizarding healers couldn't heal her of; all because they were defending him.
She now currently resided in the Wizarding hospital, St. Mungo's, in their permanent spell damage ward, under the protection and care of the hospital and its staff.
People would think he should be happy that his mother was technically still alive and breathing, those people were idiots. It wasn't that he wasn't happy she was alive, it had more to do with the fact that he wasn't happy with the situation she was in. In a coma the most experienced healers in the world couldn't lift and wasting away in a hospital, not even able to move on to the next life in death, merely wasting away. No better than a vegetable or a mental patient. Sometimes, though he'd never admit it out loud, he wished she just would have died that night – at least then, she would have been able to move onto the next life with his father, the man she loved more than anything in the world, according to Remus.
The guilt often ate away at Harry. He knew it was completely illogical, but he couldn't help it. Every breath he took, every thought he had, every experience he lived through was only allowed to come to pass because his mother sacrificed herself for him. He was living a normal life and his mother had to pay the price for it.
For that he felt he owed his mother a debt he could never repay.
It was for that reason that he dedicated his life to finding a cure for her, no matter what it took.
His mother was the reason he had pressured Remus into teaching him and helping him understand his parent's school texts, his mother was the reason he had Remus accelerate his learning in muggle schooling, his mother was the reason he played football and trained every week - he needed to keep fit after all.
No one but himself knew the reasons for him wanting to learn and become as powerful as he could – Remus probably suspected, but he never confirmed it. True, knowledge was power and he told Remus he thought as much, but power without a purpose was pointless. What was the point of becoming as powerful as one could be if you had no reason to utilize said power?
Harry continued to play his guitar as he pushed the thoughts of his parents out of his mind. It was good motivation to think of them, but it didn't do to dwell on the past if he wanted to help his mother. It was odd how playing this guitar always put his troubled mind to ease, it was like his mother was watching over his shoulder, trying to ease her son's woes – not in person, but in spirit. He liked that feeling; it was probably why he played as often as he could.
Harry finally cast his mind to more current affairs.
Such as the letter addressed to him sitting on his desk.
The letter had been delivered not an hour ago by a brown barn owl, signifying that it was obviously from the Wizarding world, as owls were the preferred method of mail delivery. He only needed to look at the wax seal that sealed the letter to know its purpose and who it was from.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the most prestigious school for learning magic in Europe. It was seen as a great honour in Wizarding society to be accepted to said school, but Harry didn't see it. As far as he could tell, nearly every magical child in Great Britain who was able to wield magic, even in the slightest, was accepted. Regardless, if he wanted to ever attain the freedom he required to help his mother, he would need to graduate from the school, and graduate well.
"It never ceases to amaze me how good you are at that, no matter how many times I hear you play" a voice said from his bedroom door, causing Harry to stop playing instantly and jump slightly in surprise. He had been so lost in thought he let his uncle sneak up on him, well, it wasn't too surprising, he had been quite the prankster while at school apparently, according to his father's journals.
Harry turned to Remus with a scowl on his face "Please, sneak up on me more you bloody paedophile," he said in jest "you don't know how to knock?"
Remus let out a bark like laugh at that "In all honesty, it's your scrawny little arse that does it for me Lucky" he said with a grin "please don't tell anyone? The ladies would be devastated."
Harry visibly winced at the mention of his nickname "I really wish you wouldn't call me that."
Remus didn't seem to be paying attention though "I really do love it when you play that particular song though" he said, taking a backwards seat on the desk chair and leaning his arms on the back rest "Your mother used to play it for us all the time, your father in particular was a fan of it – being brought up as wizards and all, we didn't really know much of muggle music" he said, Harry didn't miss the dark look that came over his face at the mention of his old group of friends.
"Obviously, Wizarding music hardly compares, so imagine our surprise when your mother tells us she can play the guitar and starts playing muggle music of the kind we have never heard before. She had your father begging to play more after just one song, he was her biggest fan" he said with a chuckle. Harry couldn't help but smile, he loved hearing stories about his parents.
"Is there anything you wanted?" asked Harry, not sounding rude, but Remus usually had a point when starting conversations, he wasn't one to waste words when unnecessary – unless he was pranking him or telling him a random joke, of course.
"Nothing much, actually, it has a lot to do with the letter sitting unopened on your desk actually" he said, casually signalling to the letter laying unopened behind him "you know, most kids usually go ballistic when they receive their Hogwarts letter, aren't you even a little excited?"
Harry just shrugged "I'd much rather continue my home schooling," he said "unfortunately, the Ministry wouldn't recognize you as an official tutor, especially for someone who's an heir to a wealthy pureblood line," he finished with a shake of his head.
Remus had to agree, but Harry didn't need to know that "Don't worry about it Lucky, maybe finally you can meet some real friends at Hogwarts, people like yourself," he smiled at the boy "I didn't think I would ever meet any friends when I first went, that was until I met your father" he said with a sad smile.
"I might be a bit more excited if I wasn't already ahead of my peers and I could still play football . . . I have no idea why they don't play it at Hogwarts – it's not like wizards and witches don't follow the sport either. . ."
Remus just shrugged, conceding the point "You could always do some independent study in your own time if you're really that far ahead, and it never hurt anyone to revise knowledge you already know" he said "that and you haven't actually done much practical work at all, I'd imagine that would be fun" Harry nodded, it was true, he had yet to use a wand of his own to do magic, relying on Remus' on the rare occasion when he could pilfer it.
"And in regards to football, I'd like to say I agree, but Wizarding Britain is one of the most backwards magical countries in the world, ideology wise, anyway. Purity of blood is only a real issue in some European and Asian countries, nowadays," he shrugged "Why don't you play Quidditch instead?" he asked, a little too hopefully "the basic concept is the same, you have goals, you score by putting some balls through them, you have formations and tactics, it's just a little more exciting" he said with a chuckle as Harry raised his eyebrow in amusement.
"Football is much more civilised sport than Quidditch" Harry lectured patiently "that, and I'm just better at it."
"You haven't even played properly yet, you've just flown on one of my old brooms," Remus shook his head in exasperation "besides, Quidditch is in your blood – you know, your father was the star player on the Gryffindor team, a chaser, back in the day."
"What is this?" Harry asked sarcastically "Gryffindor propaganda? Is that how they stay popular these days?"
"Hardly Lucky, Gryffindor is the house for the chivalrous and brave, and while I'm not saying you're not either of those, I'd picture you more as a Ravenclaw, one who values knowledge, intelligence and wit above all others" Harry shrugged, having already come to that conclusion himself from what he had read about the school he would be attending in a book called 'Hogwarts: A History'.
The school apparently had a way to sort each new student into one of four houses representing each of the four founding members of Hogwarts. Gryffindor, as Remus had already said, the house that accepts the chivalrous and brave, Ravenclaw, the house which values knowledge and intelligence above all others, Hufflepuff, the house which values hard work and loyalty and finally, Slytherin, the house which favours the cunning and ambitious. He didn't much care which house he ended up in, but Remus' guess was most likely the correct one of he were to get sorted on his current personality.
"When are we going to Diagon Alley to get my supplies?" asked Harry, trying not to sound too eager to get his first wand. He had used Remus's before and it just felt wrong to do so, when Harry asked why that was, Remus said that the wand chooses the wizard and that he would undoubtedly have better results with his own wand.
"Hmm, I think we can go as soon as tomorrow for your birthday as long as you send your reply to Hogwarts tonight" he said with a smile as he ruffled Harry's hair.
Harry scowled, but his smirk lessened the effect it usually had as he swatted Remus's hand away.
"Now, before we eat the dinner our wonderful house elf has prepared for us, how about you play me a song?" Remus asked as he smiled at his adopted charge.
"Nope," Harry simply answered "I'll be down in ten minutes; I need to have a shower."
"Wha . . . why not? Can't you play me at least something from that Jon Bovi group?" he looked pathetic with those really weak puppy dog eyes, "please?"
"You're a grown man for Christ's sake, show some dignity," Harry paused as he mentally recalled Remus' last statement "and it's Bon Jovi you twat, get it right."
"Right, whatever," he waved it off casually "how about a Beetles song then? I love the Beetles!"
"I don't."
"Go away," Harry practically shoved him out the door so he could get dressed "you're being annoying."
Sure, Harry respected the man for having the guts to come and claim him from the orphanage after his parents' unfortunate circumstances, instead of wallowing in grief and forgetting about him like many would; but he was just so annoying sometimes!
Harry woke up on the morning of his birthday, July the thirty first, bright and early. Unfortunately, to expect to wake by natural means with a guardian like Remus Lupin is a bit of a stretch to hope for, which is why he found himself hanging upside down from the ceiling in his bedroom soaking wet from head to toe and dripping in freezing cold water.
"Just wait, you bastard, the second I get my wand . . ." Harry muttered under his breath, with promises of pain and suffering as he waited out the timed charm Remus cast on his bed to wear off. After a good five minutes of waiting with blood rushing to his head, he fell safely to his mattress below him; however, knowing his guardian, he immediately rolled off his bed and onto the floor to avoid any other surprise pranks.
Unsurprisingly, his bed exploded in a massive display of honey and feathers. Harry gritted his teeth in irritation. That would have been annoying to deal with.
Grabbing his still unopened Hogwarts letter, he dashed out of his room lest he tempts fate just enough and eventually gets hit by another of those pranking spells. Harry quickly sidestepped an orange flash as another of Remus' timed spells zinged right past his head and into the wall behind him. Harry quickly made his way to Bartholomew's room to have his reply to Hogwarts delivered, before another spell could hit him.
Bartholomew was Remus's delivery owl. He was a fairly large and beautiful eagle owl with dark brown silk like feathers and piercing orange eyes that almost glowed in the dark when the lights were out. The room the owl specifically inhabited was the attic of the house they lived in, which was surprisingly roomy with a small window for Bartholomew to leave and arrive from. His perch was placed next to the window with a tray of water and owl treats nearby .
Quickly opening the Hogwarts acceptance letter that was labelled 'Mr H. Potter, 14 Jackson Road, Highbury, London', he quickly skimmed through it and found exactly what he expected to be written inside:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September (or when you happen to register). We await your owl by no Later then 31st of July.
Yours Sincerely
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Harry snorted in amusement when he realized he was cutting it quite short, but Bartholomew would get it there within a few hours easy – he was a fast owl after all. Skimming through the letter, he found a list of supplies filled with things he needed to go to Diagon Alley for to purchase:
HOWGARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Uniform
First year students will require:
Three sets of plain work robes (black)
One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please not that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags
Set Books
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
Other Equipment
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl, cat or toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
"No Broomsticks?" Harry re-read quietly with a frown. If he couldn't play football, he was hoping to play at least Quidditch, but it seemed he was being robbed of that too. Maybe he could get on the team in second year; he'd have to find out later. For the mean time, he'd just take his football in case he got bored.
Writing a quick reply saying he would be in attendance, he attached the piece of parchment to Bartholomew's leg tightly before addressing him.
"Hey boy, I need you to take this to Minerva McGonagall at Hogwarts as quick as possible, think you can do that?" Harry asked, as he stroked the plumage on Bartholomew's chest. With a soft yet almost commanding hoot from the powerful looking owl, he nipped Harry's fingers affectionately before leaping off of his perch that his powerful talons were gripping on and out the window, zooming off towards Hogwarts at top speed.
Not many people used Eagle owls for mail delivery as they were expensive to buy and hard to get, especially magically trained ones, but Bartholomew had been a gift from his father to Remus in his third year at school. Also, eagle owls were known to be one of the faster species of owl out there, being naturally larger then any other breed of owl and having more powerful wings helped with that.
Staying at the window and watching Bartholomew until it flew beyond his field of vision; Harry turned around and headed down the wooden stairs of their house to see Remus waiting for him in the kitchen, trying to his a mischievous grin. Remembering how exactly he had woken up that morning, he swiftly walked over to the grinning idiot and thwacked him on the head for good measure.
"You just wait until I get my own wand dear Remus" Harry began "don't think a silly ministry's underage sorcery laws will stop me from getting you back for all these years of tasteless pranks" he said with a wicked grin, Remus couldn't help the shudder that went up his spine at the sight of it. For some reason, he knew that Harry would indeed be able to make good on his threat.
"Until then, I think I will enjoy my very tasteful prank on a defenceless underage wizard thank you very much! And Harry Birthday!" he said, with his grin not having wavered one bit "Seeing as we're going to Diagon Alley today, I figured I'd give you your present there," he promised happily "This will be the first time you've actually gone to Diagon Alley personally isn't it?"
"You know it is" Harry replied with a roll of his eyes as he pulled some scrambled eggs, toast, sausage, bacon and hash browns on his plate – a growing boy had to eat!
"Ooh, Master Harry, a very Happy Birthdays to yous!" cooed the odd little creature in a very motherly way from the stove. The creature, apart from speaking poor English, was mostly a dark green in colour, roughly three feet tall, with large sparkling eyes and batty ears hanging from the top of its head. She wore a very 'maid' like dress that covered most of her body and was currently making what he assumed would be his birthday cake for later, if the pot with chocolate mixture within was any indication.
"Thanks Lizzy" he smiled at their House Elf, who Remus had obtained from Gringotts on the day he had adopted Harry for help in raising a child. The man may have wanted to give Harry a loving home with the absence of his parents, but he had no idea where to begin when raising a young child, that's where Lizzy came into the picture. Technically, house elves are slaves in Wizarding society, but the weird thing was that they usually wouldn't have it any other way, and very much enjoy working, so long as they are treated well. Some Witches and Wizards treat them poorly, just because they're slaves, but in their household, Lizzy was treated with the respect and affection. She worked hard enough to earn that, at least.
"Breakfast is wonderful as usual" he complemented the little elf, causing her to blush and turn around and continue with her cooking. Lizzy was still fairly young for a house elf, at the age of fifteen, as they could live for hundreds of years. She had never grown used to the praise she received from her masters, being taught to expect otherwise as a child, and she most likely never would.
"Yous is too kind master Harry, but Lizzy thanks yous" she said with a smile as Remus laughed.
"I can't wait 'till you get to Hogwarts Harry, with the way all females react to you, I can imagine receiving letters about rabid fan girls in no time!" he said with a loud laugh causing Harry to scowl in response. Remus enjoyed teasing Harry about the reaction he usually got from the female species, especially the siblings of his team mates from Highbury United – they bloody made a Harry Potter fan-club, much to his annoyance, and Remus' delight.
Remus stopped laughing however when he received a spatula to the head, followed by his hair turning pink. Remus yelped in surprise and turned to Lizzy in shock, had he looked to Harry instead, he would have seen the triumphant gleam in his eyes.
"Lizzy is nots a 'Rabid Fan Girl', Master Remus, and yous should stop teasing Master Harry!" she said with a little scowl of her own on her face as she continued to slap him with the 'Spatula of Doom', much to Remus's chagrin and Harry's delight.
Remus parked his car at a parking lot near a pub known as 'The Leaky Cauldron', the parking lot looked fairly empty, which was quite unusual, if you looked closely enough. Every other parking lot in the area was filled to the brim while this one only had, at most, thirty cars in it when it could house two hundred, at least.
Harry assumed that, given the situation, that magic was responsible for said oddity. It usually was in London and something weird or unexplainable occurred.
Not before long, after manoeuvring through the busy London day-time streets, they ended up in front of a dingy looking tavern that everyone, save for a few random, oddly dressed people, seemed to completely ignore. The tavern was the one they had come for, the Leaky Cauldron, and it looked like it had seen better days.
"After you Lucky," Remus urged him "just go right through the tavern and head right on out to the back. Were probably not the only people heading there, o you can follow someone else," doing as he said, Harry pushed open the door to see a surprisingly busy tavern littered with all sorts of people – there were a few shady individuals seated in the corner of the tavern talking amongst themselves, three hags laughing at what he assumed to be an extremely funny joke, and mostly, Wizards and Witches having lunch or just passing through.
As Remus had guessed, there was a child his age being lead by his parents to the back of the pub, so, ignoring everything else around him and looking back quickly to see if Remus was still following him, Harry allowed them to lead him through the pub and out of a door only to find himself outside again, in a dead-end alley facing a brick wall.
Sensing Harry's question, Remus motioned to the father of the family before them who took out his wand and tapped a seemingly random series of stones on the wall. For a few moments, nothing at all happened until, in a vertical line going down the middle of the supposed dead-end wall, the bricks began to collapse on themselves outwards and horizontally revealing an archway of sorts.
If he thought the Leaky Cauldron looked busy, that was nothing compared to the Alley before him that was bustling with activity. Off to the right of the entrance they used, there were small booths that people were popping into before going into the alley themselves, most likely as an alternative to the way they entered.
"In the future, we'll apparate in like those people are," Remus promised him "but I figured you'd want to enter it from the Leaky Cauldron for the first time like everyone else. I remember doing this myself and how amazed I was at the sight of a busy Diagon Alley," narrated Remus as they headed down the alley towards a magnificent, tall white building. Harry just nodded in thanks as he looked at some of the stores they passed by on the way, the main one which caught his eye was 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC'.
He also passed some Apothecary with a sign saying 'Sale on Grindylow Slime, 17 sickles a pound' with a weirdly dressed – even for a witch – old woman smiling at people walking by her shop with a large toothless smile. She'd probably get more customers if she stayed in her shop instead of scaring people off before they even entered like she did.
Further down the alley, he passed a store that had all sorts of people crowding around it looking at the latest racing brooms and Quidditch supplies. Most of the children seemed to be looking on, with stars in their eyes, at the magical photos of Quidditch stars performing various aerial tricks and acrobatics on their brooms. The one on display at the moment was Albert Shearer, the legendary English Seeker. The man looked to be Remus' age, if not slightly older, with a gruff, if somewhat jovial appearance with short balding hair.
"Where are we going first Remus?" asked Harry, trying not to sound like a kid in a candy store, though Remus still seemed to think his behaviour amusing.
"Relax Harry, we'll get your wand soon," the man assured him with an amused chuckle, "but first, we need to get some galleons from your trust fund to pay for all your supplies."
Harry nodded, he knew Remus didn't like using his trust fund to purchase his supplies, but with Remus' health condition and all, being a werewolf, it wasn't exactly easy to find a job or to earn money in the Wizarding Britain. The magical world scorned him for something he couldn't control, and the muggle world would not appreciate him having to take off three days a month to rest after his transformations. Werewolves had it worst than most, it seemed.
Another store that they passed by on their way to the Wizarding bank Gringotts was 'Flourish and Blotts' which was swarming with soon to be Hogwarts students getting their required texts for the year. The store was the place everybody went to for their standard 'Ministry approved' reading materials, being one of the only shops in Diagon Alley that had a selection as large and vast as their own. However, Remus had told him that if one wanted to find books on more obscure and advanced subjects, the shady Knockturn Alley was where you wanted to go. Knockturn Alley was the kind of place most parents warded their children from by scaring them with stories of dark and evil creatures prowling there in the night, ready to strike. Harry often scoffed at that idea, the only dangerous thing in Knockturn Alley were the hookers - dirty slags, the lot of them. They'd do it with a troll if they paid them enough.
Finally, they came to a stop before a large pearly white building near the intersection of Diagon and Knockturn Alley that towered over the rest of the buildings as far as the eye could see. As they neared the entrance, it was clear that the front doors seemed to be made of solid bronze and looked immensely heavy, however, that wasn't what caught Harry's eye, it was the two armoured Goblins standing guard outside the bank in gold, and gem studded armour holding large, vicious looking pikes, looking as menacing as possible. It worked quite well as a deterrent to any thieves looking to steal from what the Goblins held within their coffers.
As they were about to pass through the main entrance of Gringotts, Harry noticed a plaque with a small message to all who entered the building, an ominous message at that:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
Wondering briefly what the message meant by 'finding more than treasure' down in the bowels of Gringotts, Harry was escorted inside by Remus. When they entered, Harry found himself in a large room with marble floors and numerous elevated counters manned by Goblins, serving wizards and witches with their banking needs. As the two lined up at the counter with the smallest line, Harry looked around some more to see several pathways leading away from the main room, no doubt leading to the many vaults and employee offices.
The Goblins themselves seemed to interest Harry as well, and not because of their looks or the fact that they were Goblins either. Harry found their attitude to be extremely amusing – bordering on aggressive but definitely rude, the Goblins made it their mission to sneer at every single witch or wizard that they served, perhaps just to let them know that while they are serving them, they didn't like it one bit.
Actually, now that he thought of it, he couldn't really tell if they were sneering or smiling, their razor sharp teeth, long clawed fingers and large domed heads making for a pretty intimidating image. No wonder most of the patrons would look away uneasily when they so much as looked at them with their coal black eyes, making sure to let their pointy teeth show.
Finally, it was their turn to be served and as the two approached the Goblin's desk. Harry was surprised to see that the Goblin didn't sneer at them immediately, or he didn't think so, they were very confusing.
"How may we help you today sir?" asked the Goblin, seemingly ignoring Harry and addressing Remus alone with something akin to respect, it seemed.
"Good afternoon mister Riphook" Remus greeted after reading the Goblin's name from the plaque on desk "We would like to withdraw funds from Mister Harry Potter's trust vault, if that wouldn't be too much trouble" he asked politely.
The Goblin, finally realizing that Harry was indeed present, peered down over its glasses right into Harry's eyes with a frown on its face then back at Remus – the look seemed to convey the Goblin's question of 'what the hell are you doing with him?' but Remus decided to ignore it. With a sigh, the Goblin nodded and wrote something down before continuing.
"Does Mister Potter have his key?" the Goblin asked in a resigned matter. Harry figured his presence was as much tolerated as every other wizard's presence in the bank – not very well.
With a nod, Remus fished out a gold plated key from his pocket - no doubt much more impressive looking then your regular vault key due to the Potters being an ancient pureblood family - and handed it over to the Goblin to inspect. Riphook looked it over for a few moments, checking to see if it was a valid Gringotts key, he assumed, before nodding and motioning the two of them to a Goblin that stood over to the side of the hall waiting with a group of five other witches and wizards.
When they arrived, the goblin seemed to do a head count before leading them all together down a tunnel, Harry figured that they would take them down in groups, otherwise it would be quite time consuming getting around beneath Gringotts and to everyone's vaults. It was a well known fact that the tunnels below Gringotts that led to the several thousand vaults under their protection stretched all over underground Great Britain, so it was most likely they would send people off in groups according to where their vaults were located.
At the end of the tunnel, they reached a platform housing several oversized carts with level controls on the inside hooked up to a railway.
"All aboard," the goblin said with a sarcastic sneer in his voice which Harry and Remus both grinned at. As soon as they all got on, the door of the cart closed behind them, immediately, the cart lurched forward at impressive speeds through a long series of twisting and turning tunnels. The speed which they were travelling, and the resulting wind blowing harshly into their faces as a result of it, caused Remus' eyes to water. Harry's eyes were protected from such things due to his seeing glasses; the rectangular frames were always seen on his face, for it was seemingly a Potter curse apparently to forever have poor vision; his father had poor vision, and his father's father had it too – now that he thought about it, he probably should discover a magical way to permanently keep them attached to his face, until he removed them himself – a thought for another time perhaps.
Finally, the cart stopped to allow one of the families access to their vaults, and even though most of the others on the cart attempted to peer in to see the contents of the vault, Harry didn't much care, he'd seen galleons before and he thought it rude to intrude like that. That didn't mean he didn't find it amusing when the Goblin would smack his cane against their shins for peering into someone else's vault, and glaring at them.
After several more stops, the cart stopped outside of vault nine hundred and seventy three.
"Come on Harry, this is your vault" Remus said, getting his attention as he'd been looking over the edge of the cart the whole time. Stepping off the edge, they approached the door and handed the key to the vault to the Goblin leading them through the tunnels only to have him insert and turn it to unlock the large door with the sound of several locking mechanisms coming undone as he did so.
The vault door swung open to let Harry see the piles of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts within, the sheer amount causing several people in their cart to try and fail to stifle their gasps. With an indifferent shrug, Harry went in and quickly took out a special money pouch which held more than it physically seemed possible before placing several hundred Galleons, Sickles and Knuts within, the amount of which would last him for a while.
Once he had finished with his task, he exited his vault and nodded to the Goblin to indicate his work was completed, before mounting the cart once again. It took around fifteen minutes for the last family to be done with their business before they finally arrived at a busier looking Gringotts main hall once again.
"I'd suggest we get something to eat seeing that it's already lunch time. . ." Remus suggested casually, grinning as Harry glared – hard – at him, "but I guess we can get your wand so you can stop glaring at me like a spoilt five year old child," he finished with a chuckle, only to yelp in pain when Harry kicked him in the shin.
"Why you little piece of. . ." but it was too late, Harry was already scurrying off towards Ollivanders leaving an irritated Remus in his wake who was forced to follow his charge's trail.
As soon as Harry entered the stall, there was a tinkle of a bell from above indicating to whoever owned the store that they had a customer. Surprisingly enough, the small dusty stall was empty currently, despite all the children his age outside running around getting supplies. Oh well, he wasn't going to complain, it just meant he could get his wand sooner.
"Mr. Potter, I remember the day your parents came in for their wands like it was yesterday," a voice said from behind him, startling him somewhat. Spinning on his heel, he turned to see what he thought to be the Wizarding version of Albert Einstein peering at him through his spectacles with interest, "yes, yes, mahogany and 11 inches, pliable, excellent for transfiguration, your father's wand was. . . and Lily Evans, your mother, 10 ¼ inches, willow, swishy, good for charms work. Both very good wands, I assume you're here to get your too then?"
Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow "No, I thought I'd come for the view, as marvellous as it is," Harry replied sarcastically, causing Ollivander to chuckle.
"Cheeky, just like your father was, well then, this way, which is your wand arm then?" asked the wand maker, pulling a tape measure out of his pocket and allowing it to float mid air as it took the most obscure, and in his opinion, pointless measurements imaginable. Harry just wanted his wand as quickly as possible, so he went with it, not caring either way.
"I'm right handed," Harry answered, but he got the feeling that Ollivander wasn't listening as he had just dismissed the answer and went out back to bring out a few boxes, of what he correctly assumed, held wands.
"Try this first, 11 inches, Dragon Heartstring, robust and good for defence charms," he said, handing him a char grey wand which immediately, upon having contact with it, sent a chill down his spine.
"Nope, not that one," Ollivander said, snatching the wand right out of his hand and returning it to its box, "try this one, 11 ¼ inches, Unicorn hair core from a rather arrogant male unicorn, good for finesse and skilled spell casting," he explained, handing the wand to Harry, however, this one almost burnt his hand right off as soon as he touched it "Nope, not that one either, it seems the Unicorn passed off its arrogance to his hairs as well. . ."
Fishing out another wand from the back, Ollivander had a smile on his face as he handed it to the boy "This one should do it, 12 inches, Dragon Heartstring core from a particularly fierce Hungarian Horntail, excellent for battle magic and charms" this one sounded interesting to Harry, so, taking it in his hand and hoping for the best, he prepared to swish it only for a large number of shelves to burst open and release their contents around him in a wild display of chaotic magic.
Ollivander frowned as he took the wand back and went to get some more boxes; it was also at that moment that Remus decided to enter the store.
"No luck yet Lucky?" asked the werewolf, to which Harry responded with a frown and a shake of his head.
"I've already tried three, but none of them are right apparently. . ." he trailed off as Ollivander came out with an armful of wand boxes. Remus got the idea that they would be here for a while.
Harry couldn't believe this, he had to have tried at least every wand in the damn stall, the last one Ollivander was sure would have worked for him – some holly and phoenix feather wand, but it was not to be, that one too left him feeling empty.
Suddenly, Ollivander returned from the back of the shop carrying something behind his back with a serious expression on his face as he looked to Remus, who was lounging in one of the stools provided by Ollivander earlier, with a bored expression on his face, and Harry who was looking slightly anxious. The prospect of possibly not getting a wand was finally starting to get to him.
"Never in my life have I had such a hard time finding a wand for someone Mr. Potter, it's the wand that chooses the wizard after all," he began as he placed an old dusty box on the counter "which is why I am even considering letting you try this one," he said, opening the lid and letting Harry see, in his opinion, the coolest wand so far. It had a rather thick and curved handle made of some black coloured wood that looked to grip comfortably in the palm of someone's hand, the tip of the wand looked to be a unicorn's horn carved out of the same wood yet coloured ivory that had a ridge protruding from the spike like hilt and spiralling all the way around it to the tip. The wand looked deadly, awesome, and powerful - Harry wanted it.
Harry warily gripped the hilt of the wand and held it closely, peering at it with a fierce intensity. At first, nothing seemed to happen - no reaction at all - causing Ollivander let out a disappointed sigh. He was about to take it back and inform the boy that he had no wand for him when a light suddenly began to shine brightly from the tip of wand, getting brighter and brighter until Ollivander and Remus had to shield their eyes from the light; however, for Harry, the light seemed comforting, warm and it didn't burn his eyes at all, allowing him to stare at the core of the light's origin without the slightest need to shield away from the spectacle.
The strangest feeling seemed to be coming from the wand, yet it wasn't strange in a bad way. It was a warm, tingly feeling travelling up his arm and then to his chest and out to the rest of his body; if he were to try and explain the feeling he was experiencing, he would describe it as finding a long lost piece of his soul after a long, tireless search before finally reuniting with it. He felt whole, yet before touching the wand, he never felt empty, it was hard to explain. It was strange, but Harry didn't mind. He instantly knew this was his wand, and he was happy, and he was glad that it was.
As the light died down, Ollivander and Remus were finally able to see Harry holding his wand before him, looking at it fondly with a small and content smile on his face. Remus was happy that Harry finally found a wand, both because it was his first wand and because if it had taken any longer, he would have left the store and sworn Harry off magic for the rest of his life. Ollivander, however, had a troubled expression on his face.
"Congratulations young Master Potter, I think it safe to say that we can expect great things from you. That wand you hold in your hand has a long history, one that tells tales of great tragedy and great success. That wand you hold in your hand can be considered both a blessing and a curse, which is why I must tell you of its history and its origins. . ." he trailed off ominously, making sure he had both their attentions. When he saw that he had both their undivided attention (Harry's was flicking between his wand and Ollivander), he continued on with the tale.
"There is a wand of legends that has had many names in the past, but one name that would be the most proper would be the 'Elder Wand', and that wand is the wand you hold in your hands right now," he began, in a grandfatherly 'story-telling' voice.
"If you are to believe legends, and in the Wizarding world, one will learn that to every legend, there is always some semblance of truth, then perhaps this story may interest you," he said "There was once a story of three brothers who were walking, and in time, came upon a river too deep and dangerous to swim or wade across, but because the brothers were learned in the magical arts, they produced a bridge over the river. At the middle of the bridge, they came across a hooded figure, Death himself. Death was enraged, for the clever brothers crossed over the river unharmed while the previous travellers drowned in the dangerous waters. Death pretended to congratulate the wizards and told them they each deserved a prize for their marvellous magic," Ollivander paused there to gather his thoughts.
"The oldest of the brothers, who was a combative man, asked for a duel-winning wand, also worthy for a wizard who conquered Death. So Death retrieved a branch from an Elder Tree and fashioned a wand to give to the oldest brother," he explained, motioning to the wand in Harry's hands causing Remus's and Harry's eyes to widen in shock "The second of the brothers, who was arrogant, wanted to humiliate Death further and asked for the power to recall the dead. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to him and told him that the stone had the power of resurrection. The youngest brother was the humblest, the wisest, and did not trust Death in the slightest. He asked for something enabling him to move on without being followed by Death. So Death most unwillingly gave up his Cloak of Invisibility to the brother. After this, Death moved out of the way, and the brothers discussed their recent adventure," Ollivander was pleased to see that he had both Harry and Remus enthralled by his tale – they should be, it was very important that they knew this information.
"In time, the brothers separated towards different adventures. The oldest brother engaged in duels which he always won, boasting about his invincible wand from Death. One night, however, when he was asleep, a jealous wizard crept up on him, slit the brother's throat, and took the wand for himself; Death then took the first brother for his own," he said to the surprised duo. Harry looked at his wand warily, but still held it in an iron-like grip, not willing to give it up.
"The second brother had a home where he lived alone; he got the stone out one day and turned it thrice in his hand. The woman who he hoped to marry, only to have died previously, appeared before him. She was separated from her deathly world and was sad and cold. Driven mad, the second brother killed himself and rejoined his love in death; Death then took the second brother for his own," he paused, his eyes flickering as he tried to remember the rest of the tale.
"Death never found the youngest brother until he took off the cloak and passed it to his son. Death appeared upon the youngest brother who greeted him as an old friend and they departed from the world as equals.
The three objects that death fashioned for the brothers were forever known as the Deathly Hallows. It is said that whoever wields all three of the hallows will be considered the master of death – so you see why that wand can be considered a blessing and a curse . . ."
Harry and Remus seemed pensive and troubled for a moment before Harry frowned and looked at his wand then back at Ollivander "Sorry Ollivander, but no matter how much I love my wand, I just can't believe the story you told me to be even close to the truth . . ."
Seeing the man about to interrupt, Harry stalled him by raising his hand before continuing "I'm not saying it isn't partly true, because I really wouldn't know, but to think this wand would allow the wielder to be unbeatable in duels is laughable, Remus could still, with his 'average' wand, pummel me into the ground, regardless of which wand I wield. No legendary wand will change that . . . wouldn't it make more sense that this wand simply allowed one to focus their magic much more easily, while having affinities for all kinds of magic, like how your regular wands have affinities for certain branches of magic?"
Ollivander smiled mysteriously and chuckled "I share the same opinion, but one can't argue with legends. However, thinking the way you do already puts you a step ahead of that wand's previous owners," he said with an approving nod "the last wizard to wield that wand, was unfortunately, the Dark Lord Grindelwald himself, and it was the very wand he was using when Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, defeated him in a duel," he smiled mysteriously, "So, it is safe to say that given that the wand chose you as its owner, and that Albus was able to defeat Grindelwald in a duel at the time, that the stories can't be one hundred percent accurate, hmm?"
Harry nodded and pocketed his wand before Ollivander's face turned serious as he looked to Remus "The lad is bright, perhaps it would be in his best interest to be taught Occlumency to guard the secrets about the wand in his mind – many would seek to harm and destroy him to be able to harness its powers, after all."
Seeing Remus pale at the implications, he nodded in shock "I'm a werewolf, as you know, we are naturals at Occlumency. I'll do my best" he promised, still looking deathly pale.
Ollivander nodded and seemed to stare off into space for a while "It would probably be best to get some texts for the lad about it, you won't find what you need at Flourish and Blotts though . . ." Ollivander said, trailing off. Remus, understanding the message, nodded and motioned Harry to pay for his wand.
"Oh no, lad, I can't accept your money for that wand, for it was never of my own creation and I was never its master . . . could I, perhaps, interest you in a wand holster though?" he asked with a cheesy grin getting an amused snort from Harry for his antics.
"Actually, it's the lad's birthday, I think I'll buy a Dragon hide wrist holster with the standard anti-summoning charms, given what you've told us about the wand, it will no doubt come in handy," Ollivander's eyes twinkled merrily before going out back and bringing out a stylish black wrist holster that looked to be made out of leather, which is what Dragon Hide is often confused with.
"That will be twenty galleons good sir, and Happy Birthday Mister Potter," Harry nodded appreciatively at Remus and Ollivander, accepting the wrist holster. He put it on under his cardigan sleeve, allowing Ollivander to show him how it worked. With a simple flick of the wrist, the holster magically placed the wand in his hand from its resting place, and vice-versa.
Thanking the wand maker, Harry and Remus left the store to have some lunch before continuing their shopping.
After lunch, Harry and Remus went to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and purchased a set of plain black school robes, a set of white shirts, a black cardigan, a scarf, slacks and several ties for school. They currently had no house logo on it; the seamstress informed him that the castle would deal with that little detail after he was sorted.
The next few stops consisted of him stocking up on his potions ingredients at an Apothecary that smelt so bad that his eyes watered from the stench of the combined ingredients. He definitely appreciated the art that was potion's making, but he could never really find any joy with working with some of the most disgusting ingredients on the planet, despite knowing that it was a necessity.
He also stopped at the Astronomy store to purchase a top of the line telescope for his star gazing activities at school. The telescope had several different settings that allowed him to gaze further than any regular muggle telescope could hope to see, there was even a function that mapped out constellations and drew them for you as you gazed through the eyepiece.
Their final stop together was at Flourish and Blotts, which Remus was worried about, and it turned out he had a right to be. After purchasing all the books on his school list, he purchased the rest of the series of the 'Standard book of Spells' as well as books on advanced Transfiguration theory, battle Transfiguration manuals, advanced Charms and spell, and several texts on Runes and their application. It wasn't like Remus could limit his book spending budget, it was Harry's money, so he just watched with resignation as Harry spent more money on books than he had ever spent in his life.
"Harry," Remus called after they exited the store "I need to go and buy that book about 'you-know-what' in 'you-know-where' before all the stores close," he informed Harry, in what the boy thought to be the most ridiculous display at failed subtlety he had ever seen "hang around here until I get back and try not to do anything stupid?"
With a look that said 'who me?' yet didn't reassure Remus at all, he begrudgingly left the eleven year old to his own devices and headed toward Knockturn Alley.
Harry did another circle of Diagon Alley, pausing at random shop windows to gaze at their wares until he paused when he saw a jewellery shop. The front window had a wide range of beautiful gold, white gold and silver jewellery, as well as a large selection of earrings, rings, necklaces and bracelets encrusted with all manner of jewels.
Stopping at a pair of rather expensive diamond earrings, Harry looked around to see if Remus was coming back any time soon before throwing caution to the wind and entering the rich, Goblin run establishment.
Remus, hiding a book under his arm in a non-conspiratory way and utterly failing at looking inconspicuous let out a sigh of relief when he saw Harry leaning against a wall in Diagon Alley waiting for him. His relief was short lived when Harry turned to him with a satisfied smirk, revealing a pair of pierced ears. The sight almost made him drop the book in shock for a number of reasons: One, the thought of what Lily would do to him once she awoke from her coma when she realized what he allowed her eleven year old son to do to himself, and two, the material they seemed to be made of – Harry couldn't be that stupid could he?
"Calm down Remus, its white gold," Harry placated the man, his ear lobes sporting two identical diamond studs, the base being made of white gold rather than gold or silver – the latter of which was fatal to Werewolves.
"What have you done?" Remus asked with dread, causing Harry to look at him weirdly.
Harry didn't answer, choosing to look at Remus in a bored manner instead.
"Your mother is going to kill me," he exclaimed worriedly "I'm too young to die!"
Harry just grinned before motioning for Remus to follow him as they went home; Remus following close behind looking a mixture between queasy and scared shitless. Lily Potter's temper was not something one usually laughed at.