Now knowing what to look for, Harry spent the next couple of hours examining everything and being sure to look out for the many magical signs. Unsurprisingly, he decided that he'd learnt more in those couple of hours than he would have in a couple of years' worth of Binns' lectures.
The next day, after a hearty old-English breakfast that found Harry going back for seconds, and then checking out, Harry moved on to the magical side of Salem.
His first stop was one of the most famous magical schools in the world: The Salem Witches Institute of Magic. From what he'd been told, all muggles saw of the sprawling campus was a huge farm, complete with cows and a windmill. While it was interesting and was something that he could now cross off his list of places to see, Harry found it relatively unimpressive. He guessed that after living in a castle, most schools would feel that way.
From there, Harry headed back into town searching for the magical district.
This one wasn't that hard to find, especially as he'd noticed a magical sign giving directions near the end of the tour of the Salem Witch Museum the day before.
Stepping into Old Salem Town was like stepping back in time or at least, stepping into Diagon Alley once more. Harry found himself shaking his head at how much he was comparing this visit to an historical site to back home – it was really highlighting how behind the times magical Britain was.
After his usual stop in at the bookstore where he bought a basketful of books, Harry finally succumbed and entered the one type of shop that he'd been avoiding ever since he'd lost his Firebolt all those years ago: a broom store.
He knew that this was going to be an entirely frivolous purchase – he lived in the middle of one of the largest cities in the world, for Merlin's sake. It wasn't as though he was exactly going to get much time to ride a broom.
The thing was, after Los Angeles and searching for the missing thestral, he'd promised himself that he'd buy himself a broom. And he hated breaking promises, even to himself.
Salem was the first magical district that he'd encountered since then, so today, it seemed, was the day.
The largest section of this store was set up for the sale of merchandise for quadpot, an American sport that was still played on brooms, but was more popular than quidditch was, even though that, too, had a following here.
"Can I help you with something?" a voice asked form slightly behind him.
"Yeah Yeah, I'm needing a new broom," Harry admitted, running a hand through his hair.
A lump had formed in the pit of his stomach as he'd been standing there, perusing the racks. Even after all this time, it felt as though he was betraying Sirius by buying a new one. It was a completely ridiculous feeling and one for which his godfather would smack him over the back of his head for.
"What sort of broom are you looking for?" the young man asked. "We have your average brooms for everyday people; brooms designed for sport and ones designed for different positions; racing brooms; and even brooms to learn on, if that's what you're after. Have you had a broom before?"
Harry couldn't help but smile as he answered. "My first broom when I was eleven was a Nimbus Two Thousand and the next was a Firebolt, actually, it was one of the first Firebolts out of production."
"A speed demon, huh?" the young man said. "Well, if speed's your thing, we've got just the thing."
Harry was led into the next aisle over and his eyes widened and a smile blossomed on his face. Just looking at these brooms was enough to know that they were built for speed. The footrests were angled just right; the bristles were perfectly aligned and the handle was polished to perfection.
"This is our top of the line broom at the moment," the salesman said, going into his pitch. "It's the latest from Nimbus, the company that made your Firebolt. It's called the Lightning Bolt. 0-350kph in ten seconds. Comes with the newest and best wind shear charms as well as all of the standard charms that'd you'd expect."
Automatically, Harry's hand reached up and caressed the smooth cherry wood. It was a thing of beauty and he knew that he wanted it.
"How much?" Harry asked, his eyes still glued to the broom.
ooo00ooo
By the time that Harry arrived back in the outskirts of New York City, the sun had already gone down. He knew his way, though, so he wasn't worried. Oh, it'd mean taking the car back to the rental place the next day, but he'd already rung them and arranged for that.
The hundreds of high rise buildings in New York really emphasised why cities of this size were often called 'urban jungles'. Every building was like a massive tree reaching up to the heavens and each one was trying to outdo everyone around it.
There were some, though, that simply outstripped all others. The most notable of these was, of course, the Empire State Building – the tallest in the city. Another was the Chrysler building that, even after all these decades, was still in the top five.
And then there were the newer additions. Oscorp Tower was one that reached high above its nearest neighbours. But compared to the newest building in the city, it seemed blocky and outdated.
No, the latest building was designed to be artistic as well as functional. It started wide at the base before tapering high on one side. A large section jutted out near the top which, from what Harry'd heard, was going to be a platform for helicopters to land on. Really, the only garish thing about the entire building was the giant word on the side just under the platform: Stark.
As Harry drove into town, he found that he instinctively looked for the new tower being built a scant few blocks from the Den. What he found, though, wasn't what he was expecting.
For the very first time, Stark Tower was lit up. Windows up and down its length were lit in sharp white lights. And in a bright electric blue, the name of the tower as well as the line under it told everyone exactly who it belonged to.
It wouldn't be long now, Harry knew, and Stark Tower would be open for business.
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