The cool breeze of early summer morning wafted in through the open window of his room, and Harry opened his emerald eyes. Today was the day. He knew it.
He had last been to Diagon Alley, as he learned the name was, the previous day to shop for some books. He had money in abundance, and he had bought whatever he could. Ever since his ominous talk with Ollivander, Harry had been filled with a newfound resolve to become the greatest wizard there ever was. And that meant garnering as much knowledge as he could. He couldn't rely on the school curriculum to take him all the way. Instead, he would have to strive harder and advance faster than any thought possible.
With that thought in mind, he had bought the books for all seven Hogwarts years along with several others that caught his fancy. He had not touched any advanced books though. Even he knew one couldn't run before one learned how to walk, and one couldn't fly without the means.
Thus, he had thrown himself into the first-year curriculum. No one in the orphanage was surprised by this change. He spent all his time either in the library or in his bedroom anyway, so when he holed himself up in his room, no one batted an eye. Harry was content with that. He didn't want to interact with anyone either.
Already, he had leafed several books halfway through. He found a few subjects more engaging than the others, namely Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense against the Dark Arts. Those three were focused on the application of magic instead of purely theoretical work like History or Astronomy. Potions and Herbology were alright, but he wasn't sure he would ever be a fan of the two. Even then, he had devoted himself to all the subjects equally, fully intent on becoming as all-rounded as possible.
They said one could either be the jack of all trades or the master of one. Well, Harry had no intention of abiding by the rules. He would strive to be the master of all instead.
Once he was done with his morning rituals, he walked over to the window where an owl was perched, and took the letter from its beak with a smile. The owl hopped off to the side to wait for a response as Harry tore the envelope open.
A large emblem of Hogwarts with the name of the school underneath was proudly displayed at the top-middle of the paper.
'Parchment,' he recalled as he read.
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Conf. of Wizards
Harry marveled at the introduction; his eyebrows raised at the number of titles the man had.
'And with titles, come power.'
He continued reading.
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 1st September. We await your owl by no later than 2 August.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Harry discarded the booklist and perused through the list of equipment. He nodded at the items he identified and pulled out a pen. Once he was done writing the reply, he held the letter for the owl who took it in its beak and flew away. Resolving to finish the shopping today, he left the orphanage within an hour and took the bus.
By now, he was familiar with the area, and fixing his cap, he walked inside the Leaky Cauldron.
"Hi Tom, can I get my usual?"
The barman looked over and smiled. Harry had been coming to Diagon Alley every day since he had first visited and was usually the first customer at the Cauldron. Tom liked the kid. He didn't make any fuss, demanded the easiest-to-cook breakfast, and was quite an inquisitive young fellow.
"Sure, Harry. Here ya go," he levitated the plate and the glass over to the table. Harry smiled at the man and sat down.
"Doin' your shoppin' today?" Tom asked as he waved his wand, and the utensils started stirring the pots and pans on the stove.
"Yeah," he replied as he started to eat.
"Never seen a muggleborn showing so much interest before doing shopping, ya know? Every time, they come after finishing it," Tom remarked as he took his place behind the bar. Harry shrugged. People had started to arrive, and soon, the barman busied himself with the patrons.
Harry paid and got Tom to open the passage for him before making his way into Diagon Alley. He had been coming here for six days, and he still had a hard time believing that something like this existed right under the muggles' noses. So far, the ninety-seven galleons he had withdrawn from his vault had lasted him easily, and he still had fifteen left. However, there was no way he could get the remaining shopping done with that amount.
Walking up the steps of Gringotts, Harry read the poem once again and shook his head. The goblins were regarded as sneaky bastards, but they knew how to deliver a warning.
As was customary, he walked over to the teller, who verified his key and called for a goblin to take him down to the trust vault. Harry grimaced when he came face to face with a smirking Griphook once again.
Sighing, he followed behind the little shit and sat in the cart. He had never been to an amusement park and was too overwhelmed during his first visit to properly take this in. But now that he had gotten significantly comfortable in this world, at least he could enjoy a free ride.
Their cart weaved through rocky outcroppings and waterfalls before it came to a sudden stop in front of a familiar vault. Griphook hopped off the cart and looked at him with a smirk. Harry rolled his eyes and easily stepped out of the cart, relishing in the tinge of disappointment on the goblin's face.
"Key."
Harry handed the key over to the petulant goblin who pushed it inside the hole and twisted it. The vault opened and Harry fished out the bottomless bag before putting a few hundred galleons in. He had projected that once he was done with all school supplies and his clothes, he would be left with a significant amount which should be enough to last him for a while. It was always good to have money and not need it than need money and not have it.
"I'd like to go to the heirloom vault now," he told Griphook, who grunted and took his place at the front of the cart. Harry sat behind him and they were underway.
He had been debating whether he should visit the heirloom vault for the past three days and had finally decided. He was intrigued to see what the vault held for him. He absently noted that they were going to a significantly deeper section of the cavern.
"Is that a dragon?" He asked in wonder as he stared at the magnificent beast that seemed to follow their cart with a keen eye. Griphook scoffed.
"What else would it be? A dementor?"
"What's a dementor?" Harry asked inquisitively. Griphook turned around and grinned ferally.
"Foul demons who take away all your happiness and feast on your soul."
Harry's eyes widened as Griphook cackled before the goblin turned around and started manning the steering once again.
'There are soul-sucking demons!?'
The cart came to an abrupt stop and Harry's eyes widened when he saw the same dragon staring at them. Griphook didn't waste a moment and grabbed some bell-like thing. Before Harry could ask him what he was doing, he started shaking it. The sound of wood striking against wood echoed around the clearing and Harry's eyes widened when the dragon let out a wail and buried its face under its wings.
"Come wizard. We do not have all day."
Harry nodded and tore his eyes off the cowering dragon and walked up the steps.
"Key."
Wordlessly, he handed over the key to Vault 104 and watched the goblin insert the key. His eyes fell on Vault 103 for a moment before he looked back at the heirloom vault. He didn't have any need to open the family vault right now.
He walked forward when the heirloom vault opened and went inside, looking around at the exquisite collection. Expensive robes and ornaments lined the shelves near the walls on all three sides, and Harry took them in. Each item was set apart with a different tag, and his eyes widened when he saw the list of enchantments on a few robes.
The ornaments were jewelry worn by women of House Potter for centuries which had been transferred into the vault after their deaths. Necklaces, rings, tiaras, chokers, bracelets, brooches, and anklets. The shelves were lined with jewels, and each was segregated according to the wearer. He noted that every jewel was enchanted.
On the table between the shelves were wands, and he saw that they belonged to his ancestors. Reverently, he held his hand over them and his eyes widened when he felt the welcoming thrum from all of them. His eyes watered slightly as he felt the sensation, almost as if his ancestors were embracing him.
A sudden thought invaded his mind. Would it be alright if he took a wand for himself? Surely there was one that would work for him?
Conflicted, he stared at the wands before he sighed and pulled his hand away. These belonged to his ancestors, and they had served them well. It would not be fair to claim one for himself. He had his own path to forge now, and he would do that with a wand made for him.
His curiosity sated, Harry walked out of the vault and wordlessly took a seat in the cart. The goblin gave a derisive snort and took the front seat before driving the cart forward.
-Break-
Harry exited the bank and immediately made his way over to Ollivanders. The old wandmaker had been a good conversationist last time, and he was ready to finally get his wand. Although he was capable of using magic without using his wand thanks to all the practice he had put into honing the art, he knew the wand would make things much easier. Even after five years of working at his magic, he tired out after a short while whenever he exerted too much.
He pulled the door open and entered before looking around. Just like last time, the wandmaker was nowhere to be seen. Harry stood at the counter and waited.
"I see you are a punctual young man, Mr Potter."
Harry looked over to the ladder and saw Ollivander climbing down. Flashing the old man with a small smile, Harry waited for him to join him at the counter.
"I thought that I'd get my wand first."
Ollivander smiled, "I recall being an excited young lad myself when I was your age. As a wandmaker, I perfectly understand the eagerness to bond with your partner. Well, I promised you that I would do it on your birthday, so let us get underway."
Harry looked on as Ollivander pulled out a tape from under the counter.
"Your dominant arm, please," he smiled. Harry held his right arm forward, and Ollivander placed the tip of the tape on his finger. Harry stared at the tape that started to measure every part of his arm, from the tip of his middle finger to his shoulder. His eyes widened when the tape slithered up to measure the girth of his neck and how long his nose was. Ollivander noted it all on a parchment with a quill before he waved his wand and rolled the tape back.
"Interesting," he muttered as he stared at whatever he had written before he levitated a few wooden sticks in front of him.
"Touch each of these and tell me which one you can feel."
Harry nodded and touched each piece of wood one by one. None felt anything special until he reached a white stick. The moment he touched it, a spark went up his finger and Harry pulled back immediately. Ollivander chuckled.
"That must be it," he said as he noted it down as well before placing the parchment on the counter. Harry saw some complicated calculations and the word 'Aspen' written on the parchment.
"Do not trouble yourself with the arithmancy of it, Mr Potter. That is something one learns when learning Wandlore. However, those are the results of the two tests we did just now. Your wand shall be between ten and thirteen-and-a-half inches and made of Aspen – the wood that accompanies highly proficient magical combatants."
Harry nodded as he tapped his fingers absentmindedly on the counter before he yelped once again when he accidentally hit another stick. Ollivander quickly took note of it and his eyes widened. He quickly picked the parchment back up and scribbled another word and put it on the counter, and Harry saw the word 'Yew' written right beside 'Aspen'.
"It seems this is going to be more complicated than I thought, Mr. Potter," Ollivander began, looking at him with a peculiar gaze before he sighed. His wand flashed and Harry watched as a few boxes were levitated on the counter. Ollivander took off the covers and Harry saw intricate-looking wands made of the purest white wood in each box. All the wands were designed differently, but they all looked beautiful.
"Go on then, pick one and wave it. We shall know if it suits you," Ollivander prompted. Harry nodded and picked up the closest one. He frowned when he waved it and nothing happened. Putting it back, he picked the second one. Yet again, nothing happened. Harry repeated the process with two more wands, and the fifth wand produced some results. Soft sparks erupted out of the wand, and Ollivander smiled.
"Phoenix feather, I see. Go on, Mr Potter. Let us see if any other core gets any reaction out of you," Ollivander said after putting that wand to the side. Harry nodded and continued, smiling when another wand of the same length produced similar results. Ollivander nodded and took the wands away, leaving the two which had reacted to him.
"What we have here, Mr Potter, are two wands which are equally suited to you. However, your true potential shall be realized only when we combine them. This one is Aspen, twelve-and-three-quarter inches with the feather of a Phoenix as the core. This one, on the other hand, is also a twelve-and-three-quarter inches long wand made of Yew, with the tail feather of a Thunderbird as the core. Both these cores are powerful, and I have full faith that they will serve you very well. Now, if you would take a step back please," Ollivander asked. Harry nodded and stepped back as Ollivander brought his wand and arranged the two ivory wands side by side.
Harry watched in fascination as the wands emitted an orange and a blue glow before they merged. Intricate swirls of fiery orange and glowing blue started at the tip of an ivory wand that weaved over the surface till the end.
"This is beautiful," Harry whispered and held it, smiling when he felt power course through him. There was no other word he could use to describe it. This was what power felt like.
"Thank you, Mr Ollivander," Harry said softly to the old wizard who was looking at him with a smile. "How much do I owe you?"
"All Ollivanders wands cost seven galleons, Mr Potter. It does not matter whether they are combined."
Harry nodded and placed seven galleons on the counter, before smiling at the wandmaker and turning around to continue his shopping.
"Mr Potter," the old wandmaker's voice made him turn around, and he looked at him. "I believe there is something you should know about. I hope you remember what we talked about the last time you were here?"
Harry's face darkened at the reminder and he nodded.
"Half of your wand consists of the same materials which constituted the wand that gave you that scar. Thirteen inches, Yew, with the feather of a Phoenix as the core. The same phoenix whose only other feather resides in your wand."
Harry's eyes widened as he stood still.
"He was a terrible wizard, Mr Potter. Very terrible. But he did great things. It is a certainty that we can expect greatness from you as well. I wish you my best regards in the trials to come," Ollivander smiled.
Silently, Harry walked out of the shop. His hand gripped the wand tightly as he stared at it.
'The wand that gave you that scar…'
Harry gritted his teeth and seethed. This Tom Riddle had taken everything away from him. He was the reason why he had to grow up bullied and abused in an orphanage. The reminder of that night and what followed since then sent cold fury through every fiber of his being and Harry walked off to the alley beside Diagon to calm himself down. He walked aimlessly as he tried to clear the haze that had covered his mind, taking deep breaths as he did so until he looked up and abruptly widened his eyes.
He was inside some dark alley with not many people walking around. He saw a few drunk witches and wizards dressed in rags unconscious by the roadside. It seemed he had somehow wandered into the shady part of Diagon Alley. His cap covered his face, and he pulled his jacket closer around his frame as he looked around for some light. He had no idea where he had come from, and the prospect of being lost in this kind of place didn't sit right with him.
He saw lamps glowing inside a shop in the distance and walked in that direction. Any light was better than no light at all.
Suddenly, a horrible-looking woman jumped in his path and Harry abruptly stopped.
"Oh deary! Are you lost? Don't worry, I will help you. Oh yes," she grinned with a horribly scarred face. Harry pulled his arm back when she made to grab him, and as he had done so many times, he stared hatefully at the woman.
He smirked when the woman's eyes glassed over and she went away.
This skill had come in handy so many times over the years. It had helped him deal with all his bullies, after all.
Taking a breath, he looked ahead and walked towards the shop where he had seen the lights come from.
"Borgin and Burkes, Established 1863," he read softly before pulling the door open and walking inside.
The shop was devoid of all life, and as he looked around, he wondered how someone could run such a dirty establishment regularly. He walked over to the counter and looked into what seemed like a storeroom behind it, frowning when he couldn't make out anything. Shrugging, he wondered what kinds of things this place had and started to look around.
A dirty bookshelf was his first target, and Harry pulled out the first book.
"The Rise and Fall of Dark Arts," he read. He recalled that he had already bought this book from Flourish and Blotts, and put it back in. He had yet to read it, and he resolved to read that book when he got back and pulled out another book.
"Understanding The Battlefield by Antonin Dolohov," he read, intrigued by the title, and quickly opened the book. His eyes widened as he read what he had just stumbled on, and he turned page after page until he shut the book and tucked it under his left arm.
'This is gold,' he thought with triumph, before pulling another book out.
"The Mind Arts – Intrusion and Defense by Augustus Rookwood," he read softly, wondering what the title could mean. As he opened the book and read the introduction, his eyes shot open.
'People can read minds!' was the first thought, and that had already sealed the deal for him, but as he read about the ability to control other people's actions and force them to do whatever you wanted, he almost dropped the book in shock.
'That's what I can do!' he thought, reading further. The introduction told that one could learn to protect one's mind from unwanted intrusions and invade someone else's mind. This was an unprecedented level of power and something he wanted to have. He could already command other people to do what he wanted, but he didn't think he could do that to someone who knew how to protect one's mind. He tucked the book under his left arm as well.
A soft chime near the counter prompted him to look over, and Harry saw a rotund man with a balding head come over and look at him. Harry frowned before he walked over and put the two books on the counter. The man looked the books over and shrugged.
"Seventy-five galleons."
His eyes widened at the exorbitant price, but he didn't bother to argue and fished out the required amount. The wizard stared at the galleons on the counter and dropped them in his drawer before sliding the books forward. Harry grabbed the books and put them inside his bottomless bag before turning around to leave.
"I must say, I did not expect to find someone as eminent as you in my shop this early in the morning, Mr Potter."
Harry turned around to look at the man who was staring at him with an even gaze. He didn't ask how the man knew it was him. Such an action was tantamount to putting himself on the defensive. Instead, he stepped forward.
"I've heard a bit about your shop, and I must say, it certainly lives up to the reputation," Harry made up confidently. "I will be coming back for more purchases in the coming years, you can be sure of that."
The wizard smiled, "Both Burke and I will appreciate your continued patronage, that is for sure. Merlin knows you can afford everything in this shop and not even put a dent in your coffers."
Harry nodded.
"I shall be taking my leave then, Mr. Borgin."
The wizard bowed and Harry walked outside the shop, aware of Borgin's eyes on his back.
'Well, not as if it's my first time dealing with a shady person,' he thought with a smirk. 'Now, how do I leave this hideous place then?'
He almost slapped himself when he realized the obvious solution. Walking over, he kicked a drunk man who blearily looked up at him.
"Huh? Whaddya want?"
Harry stared into the man's eyes and smirked when they glazed over, before following behind. It took him not even five minutes until he saw the bright light coming from Diagon Alley, and he instructed the drunk to go away before walking towards it.
-Break-
It took him little time to get his shopping done. The school trunk went first, and he opted for one with an inbuilt shrinking charm on it so that he could store more items without worrying about space. Books had already been purchased, so he went over to the apothecary and bought all the potion equipment first before buying the telescope they needed from the shop right next to it.
He passed the pet shop and wondered whether he should get an owl, before realizing that he had no one to write letters to. He ignored the shop and walked ahead to where the clothing stores were.
'Which one then?' He thought to himself as he stared at Madam Malkins' Robes for All Occasions and Twilfitt and Tattings. The former had the most crowd while the latter looked more expensive.
In the end, the decision was a no-brainer. He walked into the latter and quickly gave the order for the standard first-year package before looking around. Realizing that a few wizarding clothes for casual use would not be remiss either, he ordered a few of those as well. He was the son of House Potter – one with a proud heritage as he had read in the book about Wizarding Houses he had bought from Flourish and Blotts in the past week. He would carry himself as befitting his station. His days of living like a pauper were long gone. Harry Potter would live for himself now, in every way possible.
The clothes were packed in only five minutes, and Harry paid for his order. The shop assistant, a nice young lady who looked to be in her mid-twenties, promptly placed them inside his trunk at his request. Despite her protests, he tipped her and was about to walk out when he saw what looked like some holders adorning the shelves.
"Excuse me, what are those?" He asked the assistant, who looked over and smiled.
"Those are wand holsters. They are wrapped on your arm and you can keep your wand inside. That way, you don't have to bother carrying it in the pockets of your robes."
Harry nodded and picked one made of some kind of dark green leather before he fastened it on his right arm and put his wand inside.
"Go on, try it," the assistant encouraged. Harry nodded and flicked his arm, and the wand immediately shot forward. Harry expertly caught it.
"Nice reflexes," the assistant complimented. Harry smiled and thanked her once again before walking out.
'Well, that takes care of all the shopping on this side,' he thought as he made his way over to the brick wall that was the entrance to the Leaky Cauldron. A few people entered and he quickly walked through before the passage closed. Waving at Tom, Harry crossed over and walked out of the pub.
He had never bought regular clothes, and now it was time for some purchases. Harry palmed his pocket where his life's savings were kept and smiled. It was time to use those Pounds he had gathered over the past year.
Soon, he would begin his journey in the magical world. And he resolved further to become the greatest there ever was.
"Happy birthday to me," he whispered to himself as he walked inside the clothing store.
-Break-
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