Thoughts: ‘Blah. Blah. Blah.”
Flashback: Blah. Blah. Blah. ( [END]FLASHBACK before/after them)
Hedwig: “Blah. Blah. Blah.”
Parseltongue: {Blah. Blah. Blah.}
Letters/Articles/Writing: Blah. Blah. Blah.
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Chapter 5
Harry and Hagrid now stand in front of a worn brick wall. The clock had just struck noon; The journey from the Dursleys had taken about 3 hours.
“So, now what?” Harry questions as he looks back at Hagrid. As he focuses on the large man, Harry notices something that he had only ever seen around himself and the odd stranger that would randomly greet him on the street. A white, shimmering ring of light outlines Hagrid's body, which is different to Harry's own grey coloring. Harry realizes that it must have something to do with their magic because he has never seen one around his relatives. He snaps out of his thoughts as he realizes that Hagrid hasn’t given him an answer, and as content as he was to stare at the occasional wall or observe random people all day, he would much rather be learning as much as he can about the intriguing world (like the strange rings of light he’s been seeing around Hagrid and himself, for example) he had just been thrust into.
Instead of answering, Hagrid looks at Harry with a twinkle of mischief in his eye. He turns away and whips out the pink umbrella he’s been carrying around with him the entire day. Not that Harry was going to comment on it. ‘You do you.’ Harry had thought when he’d first noticed it in the house. He sticks by this statement. Pink is fabulous. And the umbrella has a glossy shine that draws him to it. What can he say, he likes shiny things. Hagrid raises the umbrella to the wall and taps out an intricate pattern on the brick. Harry pays close attention and commits the pattern to memory. ‘Just in case.’ he justifies. Suddenly, the bricks begin to peel away one by one, creating a gap in the wall. Harry is stopped dead in his tracks by the sight that greets him. Diagon Alley is incredible.
Rows of shops line both sides of the street, making the area look smaller than it actually is. Children and families meander from one shop to the next, likely looking for school supplies just as he is. Hagrid ushers him forward and his vision explodes with color. It’s everywhere. The bright oranges and reds radiating from some of the buildings that fade into the elegant greens and blues of others. Not to mention all of the light outlines surrounding the people he sees, further enforcing his earlier theory. Usually, Harry would find himself in a panic when faced with a scene like this. And, although he is a little overwhelmed, he is so full of wonder and astonishment that it doesn’t even cross his mind. ‘How could something like this stay hidden from the world so successfully? And why?’ Of course, Harry understands that there are reasons the wizarding world stays separate from the muggle world (Hagrid had explained part of it to him and Harry had filled in some of the blanks on his own), but it just seems wrong to hide something so full of life away for any reason. Least of all out of fear.
Harry suddenly realizes that he has no money on him, and begins to wonder how he will pay for everything on his list. He turns to ask Hagrid, when he realizes that Hagrid has been speaking to him for quite some time, narrating the street as they walk. He tunes back in.
“Oh! An’ over there is Olivander’s. Tha’s where you’ll be gettin’ yur wand.” Hagrid is prattling on cheerfully. There is no trace of the fury Harry saw on his face back at the Dursleys.
“I really am excited to get my wand!” And it’s true. Receiving his wand is what excites Harry the most about today. It seems like a rite of passage. When he gets his wand, he will no longer be the sad little boy who has been abused by his relatives. He won’t be defined by his trauma anymore. He’ll finally just be Harry James Potter. That’s all he ever really wanted, anyway.
Then his excitement crumbles as he remembers his earlier realization.
“Hagrid, how am I meant to pay for all this?” Harry questions timidly. He didn't want to miss out on the opportunity of Hogwarts just because he can't pay for it.
“You see that large buildin’ ov’r there?” Hagrid asks as he points to the large building in the distance. Its plain white walls, a stark contrast to the other buildings in the alley. “That there is Gringotts, the wizarding bank, run by the goblins. Fierce beings, goblins; Warrior race. Don't want to be on their bad side, just treat them with respect and you'll have no problems.”
Harry doesn’t know how a bank is supposed to help him since he’s only been alive a grand total of eleven years, not exactly putting him in a financial situation that would require one, but he keeps quiet, thinking there may be a scholarship or something similar for students who can’t afford to go to Hogwarts.
As they move closer to the building Harry notices two creatures about his size standing at the door. They’re fair-skinned, as if they don’t get enough time in the sun. Their fingers are long, as are their feet, and they have dome shaped heads with long pointed ears and noses. Their beady eyes are slanted and they seem sharp, as if they notice everything. They also have a ring of light surrounding them, theirs are decidedly darker than his own. ‘Based on the armour and spears they are carrying, they must be the guards’ Harry decides.
As they reach the steps, the guards bow to the two wizards, not really expecting the gesture to be reciprocated. So, they were thoroughly shocked when the child accompanying the half-giant bows back and continues into the bank.
As they pass the first set of doors, Harry notices an inscription over the second set.
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
Harry shivers a bit as he reads the warning, missing the grin the set of goblins at the doors gave him. Once again as he walks past them, the goblins bow and Harry bows back, picking up his pace to catch up to his companion when the taller man just keeps walking.
As he passes the doors, Harry is in awe of the room he had just stepped into. It is lined with tall desks, placed in a U shape, creating a walkway down the center. There are goblins sitting at each desk performing various tasks. Some were writing, others were counting coins piled at their places, while the rest were weighing precious gems. Other goblins were running in and out of doors and various hallways littered throughout the room.
Harry caught up to Hagrid who was waiting in line behind a man speaking, rather rudely, to the goblin behind the desk. As the man finishes, Hagrid steps up to the goblin, whose name plate reads “Teller Sharpfang.”
“We’re here to make a withdrawal from Mr.Potter’s vault.” Hagrid states. Harry just stares in shock, not knowing he owned a vault. In said moment, he almost misses the next interaction. Almost.
“And does Mr.Potter have his key?” Sharpfang asked. Harry is about to reply with a negative response, when Hagrid answers for him.
“I got it ‘ere somewhere.” He then proceeds to dig through his pockets, placing the items he removes on the disgruntled goblin’s desk. “Ah! There it is!” He cries in triumph when he removes a golden key from his pocket.
‘Why does Hagrid have MY key?’ Harry wonders. Although Hagrid answered his questions earlier, Harry didn't want to push his luck; Years at the tender mercy of the Dursleys taught him not to ask questions.
The teller examines the key with a shrewd eye. “Everything seems to be in order.” As the goblin finishes speaking, Hagrid pulls out a letter, handing it to the teller.
“An’ I’ve got this from professor Dumbledore, it's about you-know-what in vault 713.” Hagrid seems to grow taller, with what seems to be pride, probably from being given such an important job. The goblin reads the letter then hands it back.
“Very well. I’ll have a goblin escort you to both vaults. Griphook! Escort these gentlemen to their vaults.” Sharpfang said, then went back to what he was doing before, clearly dismissing them.
“Thank you Mr. Sharpfang.” Harry said before following Hagrid and Griphook, leaving behind a few more shocked goblins, those around Sharpfang having heard the young wizard. Sharpfang quickly left his desk, leaving to inform his King of his very brief interaction with the young Mr. Potter.
Harry follows Hagrid and Griphook down a hallway that leads to a cavern. It contains a strange rail and minecart sitting on it with a lantern attached to it. As they climb in, Harry notices that Hagrid seems a little weary of the cart.
“Are you okay Hagrid?” Harry asks, concerned. Even in the dim light, Hagrid seemed a bit pale.
“I'm fine Harry, the carts just make me a little nauseous.”
“If you’re sure.” Harry replies wearily, secretly hoping that Hagrid won’t get sick in the cart.
As soon as they sit down, the cart takes off, going at high speeds down the track. Left, dip, twist, sharp right. Harry, having never been on a roller coaster or anything similar, enjoys the rush of adrenaline, just barely concealing his whoop of excitement.
As they stop, Harry is a little disappointed, having thoroughly enjoyed the sensation. He looks at Hagrid and comes to the conclusion he wouldn't agree with him. Hagrid seems dizzy and a little green around the gills.
“Vault 687.” Griphook calls after they all climb out of the carts and head toward the steel door. As they reach it Griphook asks first for the lamp, hanging it on the hook by the door, then the key.
“Stand back!” He calls again as he sticks the key in the lock, it makes a series of clicking noises, followed by a hiss as the door opens. Harry is stunned by what he sees. Piles of gold, silver and bronze coins are piled high in the vault. He is a little confused, not knowing what each different coin was, but in awe nonetheless. He also has the sudden urge to grab onto the shiny things and never let go. But that isn’t exactly what he’d call unusual, so he simply ignores it.
“This is all mine?” Harry asks in disbelief. After getting confirmation he looks at each of the coins. “What are each of them worth?” he asks the goblin, considering he works here.
Griphook seems to be a little shocked to be asked a question, but answered nonetheless, “The gold coins are Galleons, the silver are Sickles and the bronze, a Knut. There are 29 Knuts to a Sickle and 17 Sickles to a Galleon. A Galleon is £4.93, a Sickle £0.29 and a Knut is £0.01.” he explains hurriedly.
Harry thanks the goblin, grateful for the detailed answer. He then realizes that he doesn’t have anything to carry the money in. He would have put the coins in his pockets, but he knew there were holes in them and didn't want to risk losing anything. Hagrid, seeing Harry's face asks him what was wrong. Harry explains his thought process. Hagrid is about to offer to carry Harry’s money, when Griphook jumps in.
“We can provide a bottomless bag that only you can use. For a price of 25 Galleons, of course.” Griphook offers with a smirk. He is a goblin, after all. They are helpful, for a price.
“Does it only hold money?” Harry asks, not wanting to spend that much if that's all it held.
“No, it can carry almost anything. Although, it is recommended not to carry anything fragile or alive, as they could be broken or harmed respectfully.” Griphook responds.
Hagrid is about to decline, Dumbledore having given him specific orders to guarantee that Harry got nothing that wasn't on his school list. Harry unknowingly shoots that down when he quickly accepts. He likes the idea of a bottomless bag. Griphook pulls out a bag and a needle out of seemingly nowhere. The small, black, satin bag has a drawstring on the top and what seems to be a smooth, leather surface across the front.
“Just prick your finger and smear your blood across the place for your initials.” Griphook informs Harry as he hands both over. Harry quickly follows the goblins instructions, surprised when the bag flashes, dropping it in the process.
“Why did it flash?” Harry asks as he bent down to pick up the bag. As he examines the bag, he notices that it has changed. The bag is now emerald green with a black drawstring, he immediately likes the color; It matches his eyes (and unknown to him, his mother’s). Across the leather surface, which stayed black, are the initials H.J.P.B. Harry was confused by the added B at the end, unaware of his godfather, who had made him his heir when he was born. And while he may not know, his magic did, automatically adding the initial. He quickly forgets about it when Griphook answers his question.
“That was the magic settling.” Griphook informs the startled wizard. Satisfied with the answer, Harry starts filling the bag with handfuls of money. He had hoped he would be able to get extra books and maybe some better clothes.
After collecting the money, the three head back to the cart and rides through the caverns again to vault 713. Harry is disappointed when all that is pulled out is a little brown package, not much bigger than his fist. He is even more disappointed when Hagrid won’t tell him what the package is. “Hogwarts business” is Hagrid's offhanded reply.
After the thrilling ride back up, Harry thanks Griphook and he and Hagrid leave the bank.
“Now we havta’ take ya to get yur robes.” Hagrid then pauses before continuing, “Actually, I need to run an errand while you’re in there. Will ya be okay on your own?”
Harry wants to say that no, he will decidedly NOT be okay on his own. He’d much rather spend an evening with Dudely than be in this new place all on his own. But instead he says, “Sure, I’ll be fine,” and leaves it at that. Hagrid nods happily and Harry feels the panic start to set in.
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They arrive at Madam Malkin’s forty-five minutes later, having stopped to gawk at the various displays along the way. Hagrid ushers Harry inside with a reminder to buy only what was on his list. When asked why, he merely replied with the phrase “Dumbledore's orders” as if that explained everything. That makes Harry wary of Dumbledore’s character and suspicious of his motives. He has never met the man before and yet, somehow, he seems to have more control over Harry’s life than Harry does. Frustrated by the thought, Harry decides to figure out why the Hogwarts Headmaster has this kind of control over him, and if there is any way to wiggle out from underneath it. As Harry steps inside the robe shop, he is instantly greeted by a short, portly woman with unruly grey hair and an unguarded smile on her face. Harry guesses, ‘This must be Madam Malkin.’
“Welcome, welcome! Hogwarts, I assume?” the woman says quickly, pulling Harry into the next room while Hagrid waves and slowly walks out of the shop.
“Yes, ma’am. I was also wondering if you sold everyday clothes here.” Harry answers quietly. He is even more nervous now that he doesn’t have someone with him. While Hagrid makes him slightly anxious, due to his larger stature, he is a familiar presence in an unknown place. And now he’s gone, leaving Harry to fend for himself.
“Of course dear, what do you need?”
“Just two pairs of jeans, preferably black. Three t-shirts, in green, grey and dark blue. I also need a light jumper in grey, a few pairs of socks and,” Harry pauses slightly, a little embarrassed to announce the next part. “Undergarments.” Madam Malkin, after giving Harry a kind smile, points over to a different section of the shop and tells Harry that he can find the socks and underwear there.
When Harry turns away from the section Madam Malkin has pointed out to him, he notices that there is another boy in the shop. He looks to be Harry’s age with platinum blonde hair, angular facial features, and striking grey eyes that seem to peer into Harry’s soul. Harry shivers. Madam Malkin leads him to a small, circular platform in the middle of the room and instructs him to stand on it. As soon as he does he is being told to spread his arms wide so the young witch standing next to him can take his measurements. He does as he is told and she begins. Harry finds the experience oddly relaxing. He doesn’t really have to think about anything, just listen to the woman’s soft voice instructing him on where to move or how to stand. He looks over to the boy standing next to him once more. The boy has his eyes closed and seems to be totally at ease. As if he’s done this a thousand times before. And perhaps he had. The boy had an aristocratic air around him. He stands to his full height, confidently, and he juts out his chin in an almost arrogant manner. Harry also notices a ring of light surrounding him. Just like he had with Hagrid and the Goblins, although Draco’s was definitely the darkest he’s seen. The boy opens his eyes and catches Harry’s gaze. Harry quickly looks away, flushing a bright pink in embarrassment.
“My name’s Draco,” the boy says suddenly, “Draco Malfoy. What’s yours?” The boy, Draco, speaks in a clear drawl, sounding utterly bored.
He states his name, “Harry.”
“You have a last name?” Draco questions.
“Of course I have a last name!” Harry cries, playfully indignant.
“Well, what is it then?” Draco questions with a light smirk.
‘Oh yeah, definitely arrogant’ Harry decides. But unlike his cousin, Dudley, Draco wears it well. It’s almost as if he’s earned the right to it, whereas Dudley’s arrogant tendencies stem from self-entitlement. Harry ponders his response for a moment longer than is technically necessary. He finally looks Draco in the eye and says, “I can’t remember. But, when I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know,” with a grin on his face.
Draco’s face goes slack for a moment and Harry thinks he’s said something wrong. He’s about to turn away when Draco suddenly bursts out laughing in a way that completely contradicts the cool and collected young wizard he was surely trying to be. And Draco’s laugh must be contagious, because Harry finds himself laughing right along with him.
“So,” Draco begins after he’s collected himself, “I assume you’re in Diagon Alley to pick up your school supplies?”
“I am. This is only our second stop of the day though. We had to go to Gringotts first.” Harry pauses for a moment. “This place is a lot to take in, honestly.”
“Wait, are you a muggleborn?” Draco asks curtly.
Harry replies quickly and solemnly, “No, but my parents died when I was very young, so I was raised by muggles. All of this is just so new to me.”
“That must have been awful! Living with muggles when you should have been raised in the magical world. You know, I hear they use machines to get around. How dreadful! I simply can’t imagine not being able to use floo network.”
“I guess. But to them, using machines for everything is normal. It’s just how they’ve learned to live.”
“I still think it’s dreadful.” There is a brief silence before Draco continues, “There are books that could help you, you know. Some wizards write guides to the wizarding world for those who are raised by muggles”
“I actually didn’t know that. That would be helpful, but it’s not on my supply list. I won’t be allowed to buy it.”
“That seems rather strange.”
“I agree, but the man helping me get my things insisted. Something about it being ‘Dumbledore’s orders’, whatever that means.”
“Dumbledore? As in the headmaster? That’s rather odd.”
“Yeah.” There’s another pause.
“You could come with me and get one. I’ll even buy it for you.”
Harry is shocked. Draco, whom he has only just met, is offering to buy him something. Why? Does he have some ulterior motive? Hagrid had explained his fame to him on the way to Diagon Alley, so he knew that some wizards would set out to manipulate and control him, but he hasn’t told Draco his full name and his scar is covered by his hair. Besides, he has a good feeling about Draco. There is something in the back of his head that tells Harry he can trust him, and Harry always trusts his instincts. ‘So I will trust him.’ Harry decides firmly. He seems to be making an actual friend and for once Dudley isn’t here to take it away from him. He isn’t going to ruin it with his bloody paranoia. Harry realizes that Draco is staring at him, waiting for an answer. As much as he hates people doing things for him, he figures that he can let it slide this time, in the name of friendship. “That sounds fantastic!” Harry replies, grinning like a madman.
“Excellent! When my father comes to pick me up, I’ll let him know. Although, he may want to know your full name. So you may want to figure that out sooner rather than later.” Draco chuckles.
“Right! I just remembered.” Harry says. Well, he did say he would trust him. And besides, it’s just a name. Draco seems like the type to be cool about it, despite his name’s reputation. “My name is Harry Potter.” Draco’s head snaps toward Harry, eyes wide as he stares.
Draco composes himself and manages to say the one thing Harry wasn’t expecting. “Your parents were incredibly brave.” As he says it, he looks Harry in the eyes. He seems so genuine and it makes Harry want to break down and cry and tell Draco everything he’s been through, because for some reason Draco is the one who can make it all okay.
He doesn’t do any of those things, though. Instead he smiles softly and says, “They were. Thank you. You know, for not freaking out. Most of the people here that I’ve spoken too kinda freak out when they find out who I am. So thank you.”
“Of course,” Draco replies instantly, “You’re not a toy for people to mess with as they please, you’re a human being, and you deserve to be treated as such.”
Harry smiles at Draco, and Draco smiles back. And at that moment, both boys knew that they would be there for each other. No matter what. Neither of them knows exactly why they feel this way, but none of that matters. This feels right, and that’s what’s important.
“Alright! You’re all done!” Madam Malkin’s perky exclamation breaks the two out of their thoughts. “They will be finished in a few hours, along with everything else you wanted.” Harry looks down, startled. He’d almost forgotten where he was, he’d been so caught up with Draco. Now, reality comes crashing back to him. He needs to find the rest of his school supplies and hide the extra purchases he’s made before he meets up with Hagrid. But first, he’s going to Flourish and Blotts with his new friend, Draco Malfoy.