He stared at the shops, the people and the voices that tend to be everywhere in Diagon Alley. They had taken a quite horrid bus that morning, the Knight Bus, it was called, and he could not help but be amazed by it. A few weeks before, he thought he was never going to be in one. He even thought it was one of the many fairytales his Mum used to tell Dudely and him before.
They went to some place called The Leaky Cauldron where Vernon called the attention of some guy named Tom, who introduced himself as the bartender and the innkeeper. They showed them the letter and said that they were taking their son who was a Muggleborn to Diagon Alley to purchase school supplies. He was afraid at one point that Tom would recognize him as the Boy Who Lived, but he didn't seem to mind him although he could reach the counter easily. He was wearing black comfortable shoes and a vest. To be honest, he looked like every other 'wizarding' child he passed by in The Leaky Cauldron and in Diagon Alley itself.Vernon was right to point out that wizards rather dress themselves smartly.
Tom changed their currency to galleons, saying their money couldn't buy nor was it worth anything on Diagon Alley. He then pointed them to some fireplace he called Floo. Brandon was now dumbstruck as he came face to face with a Floo Network System that actually worked. It was a queasy ride, but it was fine since Vernon was there to keep him from tumbling. He was careful to enunciate every word as Tom instructed.
They first went to the Pet Shop, which was called 'Creatures of Magic and Not of Mr. Havenshield". There, he saw many magical and non-magical animals. How his Mum and Dad knew their way around Diagon Alley was not for him to know. Well, not yet, at least.
The store were filled with kids screaming and squeaking, older ones looking and paying and some his age glancing around.
"Choose your pet now, Bran." He heard his Mum say. So, he did. He hesitantly looked around, and then went towards a white little thing, his tail swishing and he was growling at everyone he saw. He backed away. Next, he went to beautiful owls; there were white ones, small ones, brown ones, even ruddy ones. Most of the people in the store would come to get them, though. He decided he might buy one in the future, since the description read they could be used for carrying parcels and letters, but he didn't want one now.
Kneazles did not caught his fancy, since he didn't like cats, given that the lady next door to them, Mrs. Figg, had almost hundreds of them, and Kneazles looked like cats.
As for Toads, he wasn't into them. They croak too loud and tend to get away most of the time.
He sighed as he decided that maybe, he couldn't bring a pet for his first year at Hogwarts.
"Ouch! It bit me!"
Brandon turned to see a blonde haired boy clutching his finger. It was bleeding (a little) and he looked more annoyed than in pain.
"What was that, Draco?" A man who could be easily guessed as the boy's father came behind to inspect the finger. The man looked dangerous and important, and the Draco boy looked snotty. He saw him smirk as his father threatened the shopkeeper that they will 'close the place down' and 'I'll file a case against you for neglection of customers' or something like that, since the people now gathered around them. He himself was ushered by his Dad and Mum out, but he looked back to see the creature that 'bit' the Draco boy. It was black, like a dog, and it was still a pup. It looked around wearily as children turned away from it. Brandon stopped to read the description.
Direwolf
-found commonly in cold regions, direwolves are magical pets that can grow fast and strong. It has characteristics like a dog and can be loyal. It is also loving and loves attention. They can bond to the owner, if the owner is found to be good enough to handle its wild side.
Direwolves are rare pets, since they choose the one who will own them. To see if you are chosen, extend a hand towards the cage, BUT NEVER GRAB THE CREATURE.
Brandon could guess what the Draco boy did. It perhaps wanted a direwolf, but the poor pup didn't want him. So, the boy grabbed the creature and it may have grabbed a bit hard that it made the creature scratch his finger.
Brandon looked at the pup again, despite Vernon saying, "Let's go, Bran," and the pup looked back. Something inside Bran stirred. The black pup had midnight black eyes, with a hint of bluish tinge on them. It was like looking through a marble. Brandon extended a hand unconciously and the pup, seeing this, nuzzled his hand.
Brandon smiled. He found his pet! The pup whimpered a little when he withdrew his hand to turn back to his parents, watching the event in amusement.
He smiled broadly and exclaimed,"I want him, please!"
---
The pup yapped excitedly as Brandon let it out of the cage and carried it. It nuzzled close to Brandon, as if saying how much he liked him. The shopkeeper smiled at the boy.
"See that you give him attention, child, or he will withdraw from the bond. Now, these are short handbooks to guide you through his first year at home and how to adjust as he grow up. I see that the boy intends to bring him to Hogwarts, so I would like you to fill this form of admission to classify the pup as 'bonded'."
It was Petunia who was hesitant, but Vernon stayed calm. They listed the pup, unnamed as of the day, and used Brandon Dursely instead of Harry Potter for avoidance of suspicion.
The shopkeeper nodded and they paid for his kennel, food bowls, his leashes, his soap for bath and his food and everything the pup might need. The shopkeeper adviced them to give him milk since it's still a pup.
Brandon murmured his thanks and put back the pup into his carrier and smiled.
He had a pet! Just what he wanted.
--
Their next stop was a rather curious shop. It was Ollivander's, Maker of Wands since 382 BC. The Durselys knocked and opened the door with the bell clanging.
"What have we here?" A quaintan with an intelligent look on his face with quaint eyeglasses greeted behind the counter. "A good day, Sirs, Madame"
Brand could tell that the man was Ollivander.
Petunia smiled at the wand-maker, "A wand for the boy, please."
The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow, "A Firstie, hmm? Come."
Brandon stood and went hesitantly.
"Welcome, Harry Potter," Ollivander whispered, peering with wise, aged eyes from his glasses. "Thought you could hide yourself, didn't you?"
The man smiled at the eleven year old. Brandon felt like backing out. How did Ollivander know? His parents had been concealing his scar for years. Even before knowing he was Harry Potter, they took extra measures in protecting him.
"Tut tut, there is no need to be so afraid," Ollivander assured. Bran didn't feel better; he only felt as if Ollivander could see every bit of him, beyond his soul, "Now come, stretch your hand."
Bran was wary of the man, but he wasn't one to back up so easily. Not knowing what elese to do, he did as Ollivander instructed. A tape measure went hovering over his arm and Ollivander smiled, "This might be tricky."
Brandon didn't say anything.
"Hmm. Try this. Dragon scales are its core and 10 inches is its length."
Brandon held it. It wasn't right. He shook his head.
"No? What about..." He rummaged through another. Then another, and another and another. Until they tried eleven wands all in all. Ollivander smiled at him all the time and he felt uneasy being under tha man's stare for so long.
"Hmm, I wonder," Ollivander muttered out loud, long, wrinkled fingers tapping the counter. With a wave of his hand, the wands tried by Bran went back to their prior slots on the wall. Ollivander continued to hum and murmur to himself as he went to one of the farthest and highest stand and pulled a black case.
Bran waited patiently, and upon coming back, he was presented with a beautiful, newly furnished wand. Brandon couldn't help but reach out and the wand went to him almost immediately.
"Brilliant, Mr. Potter," he said in a low voice, "Holly, eleven inches, phoenix feather. I sold it's twin brother to a man who did great things. They were terrible things, but they were great, nonetheless. I think we may expect the same from you, young Harry."
Ollivander's eyes never left him for a second, and Brandon blinked.
"That would be 12 galleons."
"Is..." He finally said, "Is there any pouch, or thing to- to put it in then, sir?"
Ollivander smiled wider, "You mean to say a wand holster, I say, young Potter. You may chose a color."
"Black and blue, if you please," Bran answered, shuffling from feet to feet. "That one," he pointed to a black and blue soft dragonhide pouch on the catalog the man showed.
"Hold out your sleeve, then," the old wizard instructed yet again.
Obediently, Bran did as he was told and Ollivander magicked the holster of his choice and slid the wand in it.
"What of my other clothes, sir?" Bran qiestioned, thinking that it may be a waste of money to pay for the wand and the holster full price but unable to use them efficiently, "Or my robes?"
"You may ask Madame Malkin to make a lasting charm for you then, but for the meantime, I charmed it so that it may transfer to your clothing along with the wand," Ollivander stated. Upon Bran's parents asking how much it would cost, the wandmaker smirked, "That one's for free," he then winked an eye at him. Bran thanked the wand-maker.
Petunia paid for their purchase, and thanked Ollivander omce more. Bran then carried his pet, buried himself in the pup's fur and was more than ready to exit the shop,eager to get the old wand-maker's prying eyes off him.
As the family headed out, Ollivander waved a hand as if to say goodbye. The door closed but the uneasiness Bran felt being under the man's stare went with him.