Chapter Three:

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Chapter Three:

"What is the meaning of this?" Aunt Marge screeched, as her grip on my wrist tightened painfully. A man, scary and bat-like, stood in our doorway at nine forty-five AM on August twenty-second just as the Hogwarts letter said. Unfortunately, I hadn't thought of what would happen if Aunt Marge was around to answer the door instead of me.

"I am here to escort Miss Potter to Diagon Alley," the man sneered, looking down his crooked nose at Aunt Marjorie. I smiled, taking a step towards him, only to have Aunt jerk me back once again.

"She won't be going. Be on your way." Aunt said as she slammed her door shut. My hope dissipated, and I was left to realize that I wouldn't be able to go. I'd be stuck with Aunt Vernon and Aunt Petunia during school years and have to stay with Marge in the summer holidays. I held back my tears, knowing how much they annoyed Marge, I didn't want to make her any more angry than she already was otherwise I'd be stuck listening to her rant and rave for hours on end. A banging on the door alerted us both to the fact that the bat-man was still outside, and I cringed as Aunt Marge threatened to call law enforcement.

Aunt Marge went about, locking the doors and windows all while muttering about nut cases nowadays and how hard it was to get peace and quiet.

"He's not a nutter, he's from the school I was asked to attend." I whispered, and for a moment (just a moment) all was perfectly still. There was no banging on the door, locks sliding into place. No dogs barking, whining, whimpering, yelping. No Aunt Marjorie complaining, muttering or yelling.

A resounding slap echoed throughout the home, and time seemed to speed up for me. I went flying across the floor, my head bouncing off the hardwood. The bat-man seemed to appear out of nowhere, grabbing me up and disappearing just as fast while Marge screamed at him, face red and quite ugly looking. Though I could not hear a word that was said, I knew that whatever was happening around me was rather loud it just seemed that my ears weren't working for the time being.

* * *

We seemed to just…appear in a shabby, run-down and dusty bar. My head spun uneasily, the feeling that I'd just gotten sucked through a rather thin tube making my stomach churn.

"G'evening Professor Snape, who've you got there?" The barman nodded his head in my direction and I felt self-conscious as most eyes turned to look at me. I shifted from foot to foot, and waiting for the bat-like man to answer.

"None of your business," he drawled, his pale face perfectly expressionless except for his eyes which contained a sadness the likes that I'd not seen in my eleven years. I tightened my grip slightly, wanting to get away from prying eyes and the man seemed to read my mind as he pulled me through a back exit, landing us in an alley way with nothing but a brick wall and no way out besides returning to the bar. The man took out a thin, long stick from the cloak he wore and tapped the bricks in the wall in a -seemingly- random order. The man's black eyes did not stray from the bricks and as they began to move, I felt my hazel eyes grow large as it formed into an archway, revealing shops and other oddly dressed people.

"I have already taken the…liberty of collecting the money required for your school supplies," the man spoke, his voice deep yet somehow soothing to my already frayed nerves.

"T-thank y-you," I stuttered, cursing inwardly as I did so. I'd never be able to make friends at this new school if I couldn't even talk right! My teeth bit into my lip, biting through the skin easily and I winced from the slight pain.

As Professor Snape (if the barman was right, and that was indeed his name) and I made our way from shop to shop, we didn't release each other. In fact, I clasped just as tightly to him as I had when we first 'appeared' in the bar and everyone's eyes had turned to me and I was extremely glad that he didn't force me to release him. Eyes followed us wherever we went, mostly from other children my age or perhaps even a bit older but I did my best to not meet their own eyes, not wanting to draw unneeded attention to myself. I preferred to stay in the background, that was best for everyone. I got nervous when I was in the front, and when I got nervous bad things happened.

"I'll retrieve the…pet. You'll obtain your wand here," Professor Snape sneered, staring up at the sign that read Ollivander's. Without waiting for my reply, he strode off and I watched in amazement as everyone, young and old, stepped out of his way.

* * *

It seemed hours later when I could finally exit Ollivander's wand shop. Clutched in my hands was a Cherry Wood wand, eleven and three-quarter inches with a dragon heartstring. Already I felt a connection with it. I loved it.

Professor Snape wasn't in front of the shop as I thought he would be, but I remembered him telling me that he'd go get my 'pet' which was either an owl, toad or cat according to the Hogwarts acceptance letter and so I ran off in search of a pet shop that I knew had to be around somewhere.

* * *

The people around me stared eagerly, as if waiting for me to make a mistake. Turn my back to them. I felt as if I was being stalked, defiled and eye-raped all at the same time. An ugly old woman with warts and a long, crooked nose grinned at me, her eyes telling stories of horrors of her own doing. My eyes widened and I backed far away from her as I possibly could.

Someone grabbed my shoulder and I screeched, pulling away but the hand simply gripped tighter.

"What…are you doing?" The familiar voice of Professor Snape washed over me and I easily relaxed. He wouldn't let harm come to me, he couldn't right? Right!

"I was j-just l-looking for y-you," I stuttered, nearly crying as I realized how stupid and pathetic I must of sounded.

Instead of replying, the Professor's grip tightened and he pulled me out of the dark, dingy place he had found me in. I noticed in his hand was a gorgeous, long-haired calico cat, in a cage and already half-grown. I aww'd at it's cuteness while Professor seemed to hold it as far away from him as possible, as if it were diseased.

We made our way back to the brick wall we'd originally entered from and right as the brick wall was closing us away from Diagon Alley, I recognized a boy with messy brown-black hair, bright green eyes and circular glasses with a large family of redheads.

Harry...

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