Chapter 4
No matter how many times Harry came here, he would never stop marveling at its wondrous sights, sounds and smells. So many magical people in one place, sharing the latest gossip, buying the latest in wizarding technology, and simply enjoying one another's company.
He found himself smiling in spite of himself as he gazed up at all the storefronts, thinking of all the fun products being peddled within
"Quickly now, everyone," James muttered as he led the way through the half-crowded Alley. "I've got to make a withdrawal from Gringotts first, then we can start shopping."
They muscled their way through the crowds to the great wizard bank, Gringotts. It looked just as Harry last remembered it, with its ornate white marble pillars and vaulted ceiling topped with a glass dome. James strode confidently across the foyer and got in the back of the line. There weren't too many people in the bank at this hour, but the room still felt abnormally crowded – mostly due to the towering figure queuing just ahead of them.
"Dear me...is that Hagrid?" Lily asked aloud. At this, the large man in a brown trench coat turned to face them, his bearded face lighting up at the sight of the family of four behind him.
"Blimey, is tha' James an' Lily Potter?" Hagrid boomed excitedly. "Good ter see yeh!"
"You as well, Hagrid," James said, patting the half-giant appreciatively on the arm (for which he had to stand on tip-toes). "What brings you to Diagon Alley today?"
"Oh," said Hagrid, leaning in and lowering his voice to a coarse whisper. "Mission fer Dumbledore. Top secret, very hush hush."
So the Philosopher's Stone is still coming to Hogwarts, Harry deduced. He'd wondered just how much his school years would differ from his old life, but so far, aside from his family being intact, things were progressing just as he remembered them the first time.
"Sounds important," Lily remarked. "Seems the Headmaster trusts you."
"Sure does," Hagrid said, bristling with pride at the compliment. He turned to see Harry and Dahlia standing behind their parents, the latter gawking unabashedly at the towering figure. "An' this must be young Harry an' Dahlia!" Hagrid beamed. "Las' time I saw yeh two, yeh were abou' the size of my thumb!"
"Harry here is starting at Hogwarts this fall!" James said proudly. "Harry, this is Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts."
"Nice to meet you," Harry said sincerely. He hoped he would have just as strong of a relationship with Hagrid as in his past life, and was glad to see that the man's opinion of his parents was just as high in life as in death.
"Likewise, Harry," said Hagrid, shaking the boy's hand (and nearly crushing it). "Come by me hut sometime fer a cuppa tea."
"I will," Harry nodded. "Can't wait to visit you and Fang."
"Aw, yeh even told him abou' Fang, bless yer hearts!" Hagrid beamed at James and Lily. Harry's parents exchanged curious looks – clearly they had not met the dog before. But the non sequitur went unnoticed, as Hagrid stepped up to the teller's counter and the Potters were called to a separate one.
The trip to the Potter vault was largely uneventful (though Dahlia got motion sickness on the mine cart and forced a mortified apology from Lily to the attending goblin as she Vanished the sickness from his face).
The vault was even more full of gold than Harry remembered – he assumed an additional ten years of income from both his parents would have bolstered their funds significantly.
The family returned to the surface and walked out of the bank back to the street, where a significant disturbance was unfolding. People were jostling and shoving one another out of the way, chattering excitedly about something.
"Is that him?" "He's really here?" "Does he have the scar?" Harry's stomach dropped, thinking that suddenly his secret was up and he was about to be mobbed, but the attention appeared to be focused elsewhere, towards the center of the street.
"Move aside, please," James said exasperatedly as he attempted to force his way through the crowd. But he was not the only person trying to get through. Everyone seemed to be crowding around a pair of people walking through the Alley, waving their hands, calling for their attention.
Suddenly, Dahlia squealed from behind Harry.
"Mummy look, it's him, it's him!" she exclaimed. Harry followed her pointed finger towards a stooped older woman accompanying a boy, who looked to be about his age. The woman was attempting to clear the path forward for the two of them, growing more frustrated by the minute. Harry leaned around an older wizard for a better look at the boy's face, and was shocked to see that it was none other than Neville Longbottom.
But this was not the Neville Harry remembered. This Neville still had traces of baby fat on his face, but he was leaner and more fit than Harry ever remembered him being.
His eyes, normally wide and frightened, were fixed straight ahead, doing his best to tune out the crowd around him. And just barely visible upon his forehead, partially concealed by a lock of brown hair, was a lightning-bolt scar.
"Neville, over here!" "The Boy Who Lived!" "Thank you, Neville!" The crowd's chants sounded familiar to Harry, because they had once been leveled at him during his first visit to Diagon Alley. At least Neville had the benefit of knowing who he was ahead of time, given his grandmother's presence; Harry hadn't known he was famous until he was mobbed in the streets. He felt a pang of guilt at the relief he felt at no longer being the object of attention, knowing that it must be a special kind of hell for Neville to endure.
"D'you think he'd sign my poster, Mum?" Dahlia asked Lily, tugging on her shirt.
"Oh, give the poor boy a rest; he's been through enough," Lily sighed sadly as she watched Neville and his gran disappear up the road, the crowd following behind them. "I'd forgotten he was Harry's age."
"Poor Augusta," James muttered. "Losing her son and daughter-in-law, forced to raise her grandson alone...a remarkably strong woman."
"She always was the best of us," Lily agreed. "C'mon, let's get shopping while the crowds are preoccupied."
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