Harry Potter and The Black Prince [Theodore Nott]

Chapter 5: Brave New World

Harry's POV:

Harry Potter did not like crowds. He preferred solitude over the presence of others—the one, and only, exception being his brother. Other people made him nervous, and jumpy, rendering him constantly on-guard. It was worse when his brother was involved because—though Harry was older by only a mere few minutes—he was protective of his little brother above all else.

So, when the crowd of strangers occupying the Leaky Cauldron began to flock towards them—like moths drawn to a flame—Harry's first instinct was to grab his brother's arm and haul him closer.

Seren, who Harry knew hated crowds even more than he did, went easily—pressing tightly against Harry's side and practically molding the two of them together. Subtly, Harry angled his body a bit in front of Seren's—trying not to draw the attention of either the crowd, or Seren, to his protective efforts. Harry's brother took every attempt Harry made at being protective as a personal offense, and would be simultaneously embarrassed and irate if he were to notice.

Seren, however, was too busy darting his eyes all around the room, seemingly trying in vain to find some quick exit they could slip through to escape.

It was futile, Harry knew, but he too scanned his eyes around the room, trying to find some way out of having to confront the rapidly advancing crowd. Not even Hagrid seemed very inclined to help them escape their fates—standing off to the side with a smile, as if he had expected this outcome. If he had, Harry thought it was rather impolite to not at least give them some warning beforehand.

"Mr. Potter," came the voice of a small man with a top hat on, who ripped Harry from his thoughts by grasping Harry's hand uninvited and shaking it vigorously, "an absolute honor to meet you! Diggle is the name. Dedalus Diggle."

Harry squinted at the man, a spark of recognition flashing through him. "I know you! You bowed to me once in a shop," he said, feeling more creeped out than he did honored. Strangers in odd clothing had done such things to him and Seren in the past, but neither had ever thought much of it.

"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle—a horrendous name, truly—looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!"

"Mr. Potter," came the sound of a woman's voice, who was addressing Seren. "I can't believe I'm meeting you at last! I am just so proud," she said with tears in her eyes, as if she were their mother congratulating them for graduating from primary school. Harry had to resist the urge to rip Seren away from her when she reached out to shake his brother's hand.

More people descended upon them from all sides, throwing out their names which went in one ear and right out the other for Harry. They continued congratulating them, telling them how proud they were, how honored they were to meet them. Harry noticed the look in his brother's eyes turning from amazement and anxiousness to annoyance quite quickly, and Harry felt himself following suit. It seemed tactless to congratulate two children on surviving the night a mad-man tried to kill them when neither of their parents did.

"You have every bit of your father's countenance, Mr. Potter," said one of the other patrons—who wore a mustard yellow robe and a pointy hat—to Harry.

"And you look just like your mother, Mr. Potter," another woman followed suit, and, this time, Harry did pull Seren away when the woman reached out to touch a lock of his brother's hair uninvited. It didn't seem to faze her, however, as she merely smiled. "Hair, eyes, and all!"

Seren was frowning deeply at the woman, his brow knitting in a way that told Harry he was close to lashing out.

" Hatchlingsss in danger ?" came the sound of a faint hiss from around Harry's torso which, thankfully, all of the other patrons of the bar were too busy talking over each other to hear. " Kill for hatchlingsss ?"