Because You Love Me

13. An Old Friend

It seemed to Harry like it took a lifetime for the last day of August to come.  It was the day Alaina had promised him she would take him to Diagon Alley and let him get his stuff for school.  He was up early this morning, had breakfast fixed, and was waiting on her when she came out of her room.  She praised him for all of his hard work, they ate, and then they were on their way.

Alaina drove them to the Leaky Cauldron, which was quite a trip from where they lived, and she parked the car.  

"Now, Harry, these people will probably know you, okay?  Just be polite to them and hopefully they won't try to talk your legs off," she warned him.

"Okay, Mum," he said with a smile.  

She took a hold of his hand and led him inside.  The bar was full of patrons, unfortunately.  Alaina was praying there would be a smaller crowd so no one really wouldn't notice them, but it seemed there was a man or woman in every chair.  She instinctively pulled Harry closer to her.  She hadn't been a part of this world for a long time and she wasn't really sure how things were here anymore.  For all she knew, Voldemort could have come back and Death Eaters could be here anywhere.

Harry looked around the Leaky Cauldron curiously.  People were staring at him.  He was trying not to notice, but it was hard.  He thought they might be staring at his scar at first, but then he remembered no one could see it unless he raised his bangs.  He had wanted it this way purposely so the kids at his school wouldn't make fun of him anymore.

"Why is everyone staring at me?" he asked nervously.

"Because," she whispered, "you're famous, Harry.  I warned you."

"Bless my soul," an old woman said as she moved toward him.  "You look just like your father, my dear."

Alaina smiled at her.  She recognized the old woman from the grocery store where Lily and James had always shopped.

"I-I do?"

"Yes, you do."  She held out her hand.  "I'm Mrs. Cosworth.  It's an honor to meet you, Harry Potter."

As the mention of his name, the whole establishment got extremely silent.  Alaina cringed.  She hoped they would be able to slip away quietly.

"Mr. Potter, welcome back," an old man in the back said.

"It's Harry Potter," he heard someone else whisper.

"Harry P-Potter!" a man at the bar exclaimed excitedly.  He walked over to him.  Harry looked up at him, noticing he was wearing a turban on his head.  "P-Pleased to m-meet y-you, P-Potter.  I'm P-Professor Q-Quirrell."  

Harry reached his hand out for him to shake, but the professor didn't take it.  He clasped his own hands together and let them cling to the front of him.  He smiled apologetically.

"Do you teach at Hogwarts?" Alaina asked him.

"Oh y-yes.  D­­-Defense Against the D-Dark Arts.  Not that y-you will be n-needing it, eh, P­-Potter?"

Harry smiled at him.  Why wouldn't he need to learn Defense Against the Dark Arts?

Alaina draped her arm around Harry's shoulders.  "Well, we're going to go get his school supplies.  Lots to buy.  It was nice seeing all of you."  She guided Harry to the back door and they left.

"That was strange," Harry commented when they were alone again.  "I don't know any of those people, yet they seem to know me better than I know myself."  He got really quiet for a moment.  "How come you never told me I looked like my Dad?"

She smiled at him.  "You didn't ask."

"Oh."

"And if you ever have a question about your Mom and Dad, Harry, don't be afraid to ask me or anyone else.  They were well-known and I'm sure just about anybody who knew them could give you an answer."