Adventures of Harriet Potter

The Leaky Cauldron

It took Harriet several days to get used to her strange new freedom. Never before had she been able to get up whenever she wanted or eat whatever she fancied. She could even go wherever she pleased, as long as it was in Diagon Alley, and as this long cobbled street was packed with the most fascinating Wizarding shops in the world, Harriet felt little desire to break her word to Fudge and stray back into the Muggle world. Harriet ate breakfast each morning in the Leaky Cauldron, where she liked watching the other guests: funny little witches from the country, up for a day's shopping; venerable-looking wizards arguing over the latest article in Transfiguration Today; wild-looking warlocks; raucous dwarfs; and once, what looked suspiciously like a hag, who ordered a plate of raw liver from behind a thick woollen balaclava.
After breakfast Harriet would go out into the backyard, take out her wand, tap the third brick from the left above the trash bin, and stand back as the archway into Diagon Alley opened in the wall. Harriet spent the long sunny days exploring the shops and eating under the brightly colored umbrellas outside cafés, where her fellow diners were showing one another their purchases ("It's a lunascope, old boy — no more messing around with moon charts, see?") or else discussing the case of Sirius Black ("Personally, I won't let any of the children out alone until he's back in Azkaban"). Harriet didn't have to do her homework under the blankets by flashlight anymore; now she could sit in the bright sunshine outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, finishing all her essays with occasional help from Florean Fortescue himself, who, apart from knowing a great deal about medieval witch burnings, gave Harriet free sundaes every half an hour. Something she particularly appreciated as she neared her time of the month.
Once Harriet had refilled her money bag with gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts from her vault at Gringotts, she had to exercise a lot of self-control not to spend the whole lot at once. Though her fortune was collecting a lot of interest she had to keep reminding herself that she had five years to go at Hogwarts, and how it would feel to ask the Dursleys for money for spellbooks, to stop herself from buying a handsome set of solid gold Gobstones (a Wizarding game rather like marbles, in which the stones squirt a nasty-smelling liquid into the other player's face when they lose a point). Though she didn't much care for it she did enjoy an occasional game. She was sorely tempted, too, by the perfect, moving model of the galaxy in a large glass ball, which would have meant she never had to take another Astronomy lesson in her life. But the thing that tested Harriet's resolution most appeared in her favorite shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, a week after she'd arrived at the Leaky Cauldron.
Curious to know what the crowd in the shop was staring at, Harriet edged her way inside and squeezed in among the excited witches and wizards until she glimpsed a newly erected podium, on which was mounted the most magnificent broom she had ever seen in her life. "Just come out — prototype —" a square-jawed wizard was telling his companion. "It's the fastest broom in the world, isn't it, Dad?" squeaked a boy younger than Harriet, who was swinging off his father's arm. "Irish International Side's just put in an order for seven of these beauties!" the proprietor of the shop told the crowd. "And they're favorites for the World Cup!" A large witch in front of Harriet moved, and she was able to read the sign next to the broom:

                                           THE FIREBOLT
This state-of-the-art racing broom sports a streamlined, superfine handle of ash, treated with a diamond-hard polish and hand-numbered with its own registration number. Each individually selected birch twig in the broomtail has been honed to aerodynamic perfection, giving the Firebolt unsurpassable balance and pinpoint precision. The Firebolt has an acceleration of 150 miles an hour in ten seconds and incorporates an unbreakable Braking Charm. Price on request.

Price on request . . . Harriet didn't like to think how much gold the Firebolt would cost. She had never wanted anything as much in her whole life — but she had never lost a Quidditch match on her Nimbus Two Thousand, and what was the point in emptying her Gringotts vault for the Firebolt, when she had a very good broom already? Harriet didn't ask for the price, but she returned, almost every day after that, just to look at the Firebolt. There were, however, things that Harriet needed to buy. She went to the Apothecary to replenish her store of potions ingredients, and as her school robes were now several inches too short in the arm and leg and too tight in the chest. She visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and bought new ones. Most important of all, she had to buy her new schoolbooks, which would include those for her two new subjects, Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes.
Harriet got a surprise as she looked in at the bookshop window. Instead of the usual display of gold-embossed spellbooks the size of paving slabs, there was a large iron cage behind the glass that held about a hundred copies of The Monster Book of Monsters. Torn pages were flying everywhere as the books grappled with each other, locked together in furious wrestling matches and snapping aggressively. Harriet pulled her booklist out of her pocket and consulted it for the first time. The Monster Book of Monsters was listed as the required book for Care of Magical Creatures. Now Harriet understood why Hagrid had said it would come in useful. She felt relieved; she had been wondering whether Hagrid wanted help with some terrifying new pet.
As Harriet entered Flourish and Blotts, the manager came hurrying toward her. "Hogwarts?" he said abruptly. "Come to get your new books?" He sounded like he had been doing it for many days. "Yes," said Harry, "I need —" she started. "Get out of the way," said the manager impatiently, brushing Harriet aside. He drew on a pair of very thick gloves, picked up a large, knobbly walking stick, and proceeded toward the door of the Monster Books' cage. "Hang on," said Harriet quickly, "I've already got one of those." Thankful for Hagrid's foresight. "Have you?" A look of enormous relief spread over the manager's face. "Thank heavens for that. I've been bitten five times already this morning —"
A loud ripping noise rent the air; two of the Monster Books had seized a third and were pulling it apart. "Stop it! Stop it!" cried the manager, poking the walking stick through the bars and knocking the books apart. "I'm never stocking them again, never! It's been bedlam! I thought we'd seen the worst when we bought two hundred copies of the *Invisible Book of Invisibility* — cost a fortune, and we never found them. . . . Well . . . is there anything else I can help you with?"
"Yes," said Harriet, looking down her booklist, "I need Ancient Runes Made Easy by Laurenzoo, a Rune Dictionary, Spellman's Syllabary by Jeremiah Spellman and Advanced Rune Translation by Yuri Blishen." She was only mildly shocked she needed so many books for one class. "Ah, starting Ancient Runes, are you?" said the manager, stripping off his gloves and leading Harriet into the back of the shop, past a corner devoted to fortune-telling. A small table was stacked with volumes such as Predicting the Unpredictable: Insulate Yourself Against Shocks and Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul. "Here you are," said the manager, who had climbed a set of steps to take down a stack of thick, black-bound books. "Your books. Very good guides to all your basic rune-translation methods —"
But Harriet wasn't listening. Her eyes had fallen on another book, which was among a display on a small table nearby: Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst Is Coming. "Oh, I wouldn't read that if I were you," said the manager lightly, looking to see what Harry was staring at. "You'll start seeing death omens everywhere. It's enough to frighten anyone to death." But Harriet continued to stare at the front cover of the book; it showed a black dog large as a bear, with gleaming eyes. It looked oddly familiar. . . . Almost like the one on Magnolia Crescent. The manager pressed the Ancient Runes books into Harriet's hands.
"Anything else?" he said. "Yes," said Harriet, tearing her eyes away from the dog's and dazedly consulting her booklist. "Er — I need Intermediate Transfiguration and The Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three." Harriet emerged from Flourish and Blotts ten minutes later with her new books under her arms and made her way back to the Leaky Cauldron, hardly noticing where she was going and bumping into several people. She tramped up the stairs to her room, went inside, and tipped her books onto her bed. Somebody had been in to tidy; the windows were open and sun was pouring inside. Harriet could hear the buses rolling by in the unseen Muggle street behind her and the sound of the invisible crowd below in Diagon Alley. She caught sight of herself in the mirror over the basin. "It can't have been a death omen," she told her reflection defiantly. "I was panicking when I saw that thing in Magnolia Crescent. . . . It was probably just a stray dog. . . ." Though she wasn't entirely convinced. She raised her hand automatically and tried to make her hair lie flat. "You're fighting a losing battle there, dear," said her mirror in a wheezy voice.