"It's a wizarding world shopping revenue," Cedric said.
Harry woke early the next morning. Although he could tell it was daylight, he kept his eyes shut tight.
"It was a dream," he told himself firmly. "I dreamed a giant called Hagrid came to tell me I was going to a school for wizards. When I open my eyes I'll be at home in my cupboard."
Hermione growled at the mention of the cupboard, while Luna and Cedric looked at Harry sadly. To think that it was a dream because it seemed to be too good to be true must be a horrible feeling.
There was a suddenly loud tapping noise.
Must be an owl thought Cedric.
And there's Aunt Petunia knocking on the door, Harry thought, his heart sinking. But he still didn't open his eyes. It had been such a good dream.
"Of course it had been a good dream. It was true," Hermione said.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"All right," Harry mumbled, "I'm getting up."
He sat up and Hagrid's heavy coat fell off him. The hut was full of sunlight, the storm was over, Hagrid himself was asleep on the collapsed sofa, and there was an owl rapping its claw on the window, a newspaper held in its beak.
Harry scrambled to his feet, so happy he felt as though a large balloon was swelling inside him.
"A large balloon?" Hermione asked, amused.
He went straight to the window and jerked it open. The owl swooped in and dropped the newspaper on top of Hagrid, who didn't wake up. The owl then fluttered onto the floor and began to attack Hagrid's coat.
"I suggest you hurry with paying it. Those owls can get vicious if they don't get paid quickly," Cedric said. "You should see the scratches my Dad has on his arms for being slow."
"Don't do that."
Harry tried to wave the owl out of the way, but it snapped its beak fiercely at him and carried on savaging the coat.
"It must know that's where it'll find the money," Luna said. Cedric nodded in agreement.
"Hagrid!" said Harry loudly. "There's an owl –"
"Pay him," Hagrid grunted into the sofa.
"You're not going to know how," Luna said.
"What?"
"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets."
"Have fun with that," Cedric said, remembering how the coat looked. It was as if it was made of nothing but pockets.
Hagrid's coat seemed to be made of nothing but pockets – bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags…finally, Harry pulled out a handful of strange-looking coins.
"Give him five Knuts," said Hagrid sleepily.
"Knuts?"
"The little bronze ones."
Hagrid counted out five little bronze coins, and the owl held out his leg so Harry could put the money into a small leather pouch tied to it. Then it flew off through the open window.
Hagrid yawned loudly, sat up, and stretched.
"Why did he make Harry pay if he was just going to get up himself soon afterwards?" Hermione asked.
"He was most likely giving Harry a small lesson about our type of money," Cedric said.
"Best be off, Harry, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."
Harry was turning over the wizarding coins and looking at them. He had just thought of something that made him feel as though the happy balloon inside him had got a puncture.
"That doesn't sound pleasant," Luna said.
"Um – Hagrid?"
"Mm?" said Hagrid, who was pulling on his huge boots.
"I haven't got any money"
"Oh, that's no problem," Cedric said. "The Potters are one of the richest families in the wizarding world, plus Hogwarts has a funding system for Muggleborns to help them out during their first year. It gives their parents time to adjust to the money system, unless the child in question is an orphan. Then it funds your entire seven years – of course, you also have to get your things second hand if that's the case."
"Wait, you mean wizard's have banks?" Harry asked.
"Yes, we do," Cedric said. "Where did you think we keep our money?"
Harry blushed; it did make sense to keep money in a bank account over anything else. Of course, the fact that almost every type of book or movie he'd ever read/seen had usually had wizards keeping chests of gold in their fortresses with a dragon guarding it.
"– and you heard Uncle Vernon last night…he won't pay for me to go and learn magic."
"Don't worry about that," said Hagrid, standing up and scratching his head. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"
"But if their house was destroyed –"
"They didn' keep their gold in the house, boy!"
"Why did he have to call you 'boy'?" Hermione asked, instantly reminded of the way the Dursleys called her friend. A frown was on her face.
"Yeah, he should call you by name, not boy," Luna said, completely agreeing with Hermione's assessment.
"Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold – an' I wouldn' say no a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither."
"Wizards have banks?"
"Just one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."
"Goblins?" Harry and Hermione said, sounding shocked.
"Yeah, goblins," Cedric and Luna said, sounding amused over their reactions. Though, when they thought about it, it was perfectly natural.
"Goblins?"
"Yeah – so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it. I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, Harry. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe – 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business."
"Somehow, whatever it is that Hagrid has to get, I have a feeling that it's going to be important to the storyline," Hermione said. "Otherwise, why would it be mentioned."
The others thought about that, then realized that it was probably true.
"I wonder what it is," Cedric murmured.
Hagrid drew himself up proudly. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you – getting' things from Gringotts – knows he can trust me, see."
"He is trustworthy, but it's also not that hard to get things from him, if you're really determined. He, like most people, does have weaknesses," Cedric said.
"Really?" Hermione and Harry said. Cedric nodded.
"There are at least three major ones that I know of, other than the fact that he'll sometimes give something away if he's remembering something else where he said what he shouldn't say," Cedric began. "The three major ways are getting him drunk, flattery, or offering him a dangerous creature. Getting him drunk is the one that works the most, though."
"So, he's not the person I should tell secrets too unless I want them accidentally told," Harry said. "Good to know."
"Got everythin'? Come on, then."
Harry followed Hagrid out onto the rock. The sky was quite clear now and the sea gleamed in the sunlight. The boat Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, with a lot of water in the bottom after the storm.
"How did you get here?" Harry asked, looking around for another boat."
"Flew," said Hagrid.
"Flew?" Cedric said, surprised. The others looked just as surprised. From the way Hagrid was described, it didn't seem possible for Hagrid to fly.
"Flew?"
"Yeah – but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."
"That doesn't mean that he'll keep to that," Cedric said. "Not only will he be impatient, but you'll probably want to see more magic."
Harry grinned guiltily at that, knowing that Cedric was right.
They settled down in the boat, Harry still staring at Hagrid, trying to imagine him flying.
"Your not the only one, Harry, your not the only one," Hermione said.
"Seems a shame ter row, though," said Hagrid, giving Harry another of his sideways looks. "If I was ter – er – speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"
"Of course not," said Harry, eager to see more magic. Hagrid pulled out the pink umbrella again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and they sped off toward land.
"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked.
"Are you planning on attempting to rob the bank, Harry?" Luna asked.
"No," Harry said insistently.
"I think you will. May not be right now, but eventually," Luna said. Cedric and Hermione both stayed silent, though they privately agreed with Luna. They didn't know why, but it just seemed to be something that would happen.
"I do not believe that, at any point in these books, I will ever break into Gringotts," Harry said. "I'll even bet ten Galleons that I won't."
"I'll take that bet, then," Luna said, shaking Harry's hand while it wrote itself onto the paper. Hermione began reading again after they were done.
"Spells – enchantments," said Hagrid, unfolding his newspaper as he spoke. "They say there's dragons guardin' the high-security vaults."
"Are there?" Harry asked.
"Are you casing the place already, Harry?" Hermione teased. He went red.
"Not you too," he said. She shrugged.
"Sorry, Harry, but I get the feeling that Luna's right," she said.
"And then yeh gotta find yer way – Gringotts is hundred of miles under London, see."
"The England branch, anyhow," Cedric corrected.
"Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."
"And that right there makes me think that someone else will break in, and get away with it," Hermione said. The others, save for Cedric, nodded. He, instead turned towards her.
"Just because it's highly likely for Harry here to rob the bank –" and here, Harry said "Hey!" indignantly – "along with whoever are his closest friends – I doubt he would do it alone, after all – doesn't mean that someone else will break in, or get away with it," Cedric said.
"I just said that it makes me think that," Hermione said. "Though, now that you put it that way, I'm sure it will happen at some point in this book."
"And why do you think that?" Cedric said.
"I don't really know, just that I get the feeling that it will happen, and it has to do with whatever it is that Hagrid is planning on getting from there," Hermione said, shrugging.
Harry sat and thought about this while Hagrid read his newspaper, the Daily Prophet. Harry had learned from Uncle Vernon that people like to be left alone while they did this, but it was very difficult, he'd never had so many questions in his life.
"I'm sure that Hagrid won't mind you asking questions," Cedric said. Hermione frowned at the remembrance of his Uncle; she bet that it wasn't so much as people liking to be left alone as Vernon scaring him into believing that. After all, her father didn't mind her interrupting him; in fact, he loved to answer her questions, at all times. Plus, Hermione had a feeling that if Dudley interrupted him, Vernon wouldn't do a damn thing.
"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered, turning the page.
"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself.
"'Course," said Hagrid. "They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts,"
"A very well known fact, as he's been declining the position for years," Cedric said.
"so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."
"Nice," Harry said sarcastically.
"I wonder how much of that advice is actually used," Hermione said.
"But what does a Ministry of Magic do?"
"A few things, depending on which department you're dealing with," Cedric said.
"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."
"Why?"
"Why? Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."
"That's not the real reason," Cedric said with a frown. Harry and Hermione looked at him questioningly.
"You've seen how Harry's aunt and uncle act," Cedric said. "The last time it was known, the witch trials happened. Many people – and hardly any of them actual witches and wizards – were killed because of that. It's also why so many Muggleborns were killed as well; their parents panicked when accidental magic happened, and usually killed them because they believed that demons had taken them over. Of course, if I remember correctly, this belief was due to a greedy person twisting a good word around to illiterate people – the killings started to stop when people began to gain the ability to read and think for themselves."
"Makes sense," Hermione said as her mind flashed through the histories he was talking about.
At this moment the boat bumped gently into the harbor wall. Hagrid folded up his newspaper, and they clambered up the stone steps onto the street.
"You know, I just thought of something," Hermione said. "How are your aunt and uncle going to get off the island?"
The others looked at her, confused.
"Well, you and Hagrid did take the boat you originally arrived on the island with," Hermione said. "I was just wondering how they were going to get off."
"Who cares," Cedric muttered, but Harry thought about it for a moment, then said, "They'll probably flag a ship when they realize that there trapped."
Passerby stared a lot at Hagrid as they walked through the little town to the station. Harry couldn't blame them. Not only was Hagrid twice as tall as anyone else, he kept pointing at perfectly ordinary things like parking meters and saying loudly, "See that, Harry? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"
"Those are going to seem normal to you, though," Hermione said. "And I would think he would think twice before saying something like that."
"That's Hagrid," Cedric said, shrugging.
"Hagrid," said Harry, panting a bit as he ran to keep up, "did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?"
"Again, I have to ask if there are?" Harry said.
"I wouldn't think so," Hermione said. "I doubt they would be able to keep them down there."
"I think there might be," Cedric said.
"There are probably none," Hermione said insistently.
"There probably are," Cedric argued, just as stubborn.
"Are you two heading into another bet," Harry said. They thought about it, then nodded – why not? Besides, the bets helped make the reading a bit more interesting, what with the fact that you may get money if you're right about something.
"Ten Galleons to the winner," Cedric suggested. Hermione nodded, then turned towards Harry and Luna.
"You two want to join?" she asked. They nodded.
"I agree with Cedric," Harry said.
"And I agree with Hermione," said Luna.
"Well, so they say," said Hagrid. "Crikey, I'd like a dragon."
"He's going to get one," Hermione and Harry said stimutaineously. Cedric and Luna looked over at them.
"You said it yourself, Cedric, one of the ways to get Hagrid to open up is to offer dangerous creatures to him," Harry said.
"And if I'm right, and Gringotts is going to get broken into for whatever it is that Hagrid is removing, then someone might give him a dragon to get the information from him," Hermione said.
"But him getting one only hinges on Gringotts getting robbed with the object being whatever Hagrid is getting," Cedric said, though he was surprised at how quickly they deduct what might happen. "And, since I doubt that will happen, I also doubt Hagrid will get a dragon."
"How about a bet," Harry said. "If Hagrid gets a dragon, you pay me and Hermione….six Galleons?"
"Agreed," Cedric said, shaking both of their hands.
"You'd like one?"
"Wanted one ever since I was a kid – here we go."
They had reached the station, There was a train to London in five minutes' time. Hagrid, who didn't understand "Muggle Money," as he called it, gave the bills to Harry so he could buy their tickets.
"Okay, how could he have trouble understanding it," Cedric said. "It's actually easier to understand than wizarding money."
People stared more than ever on the train. Hagrid took up two seats and sat knitting what looked like a canary-yellow circus tent.
"Still got yet letter, Harry?" he asked as he counted stitches.
Harry took the parchment envelope out of his pocket.
"Good," said Hagrid. "There's a list there of everything yeh need."
Harry unfolded a second piece of paper he hadn't noticed the night before, and read:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM First-year students will require: 1. Three sets of plain work robes (black) 2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
"I honestly don't know why we get that," Cedric said. "We only wear them at the end of year feast."
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
"Dragon hide is the better one to get," Cedric said.
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings) Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags
COURSE BOOKS All students should have a copy of each of the following: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
"It would be smarter just to get all grades," Cedric said. "Plus, it would also be easier – it would be one less book you would need to get each year."
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT 1 wand 1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) 1 set glass or crystal phials 1 telescope 1 set brass scales Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
"That's pretty much what my first letter also had, but the book for my Defense Against the Dark Arts class was different," Cedric said, then added, "of course, the teacher for the class seems to change every year; rumor has it that the job is cursed."
"Really?" Harry said. Cedric nodded.
"I've already had two teachers for the class, and the students in the years above me have had more, depending on what year they are," Cedric said.
"Can we buy all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud.
"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.
"Where do you go to get that stuff?" Harry asked.
"Diagon Alley," Cedric answered.
"That's the chapter title," Hermione remarked.
Harry had never been to London before.
Hermione looked mad at the revelation; she had a feeling that his aunt and uncle took their pig of a son a fair few times.
Although Hagrid seemed to know where he was going, he was obviously not used to getting there in an ordinary way.
"That sounds about right," Cedric said, "otherwise he would be more careful with what he says."
He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground, and complained loudly that the seats were too small and the trains too slow.
"I don't think the seats are so much as small as he's just too big," Hermione said with a small smile.
"I don't know how the Muggles manage without magic," he said as they climbed a broken-down escalator that led up to a bustling road lined with shops.
"Actually, they manage rather well," Cedric said.
Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily; all Harry had to do was keep close behind him.
"Best way to get through a crowd; have someone big in front of you," Cedric said.
They passed books shops and music stories, hamburger restaurants and cinemas, but nowhere that looked as if it could sell you a magic wand. This was just an ordinary street full of ordinary people. Could there really be piles of wizarding gold buried beneath them?
"Yes," Luna said.
Were there really shops that sold spell books and broomsticks?
"Definitely," Cedric said.
Might this not all be some huge joke that the Dursleys had cooked up?
"They might be cruel enough to do something like that, but they don't have the mental capacity for it," Hermione said.
If Harry hadn't known that the Dursleys had no sense of humor, he might have thought so; yet somehow, even though everything Hagrid had told him so far was unbelievable, Harry couldn't help trusting him.
"That's probably why Hagrid's the one Dumbledore sent to you. He just has this aura around him that makes him trustworthy," Cedric said.
"This is it," said Hagrid, coming to a halt, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."
"I guess that's right," Cedric said dubiously. "However, I think it's more like the fact that you have to go through it to get to Diagon Alley that has more to do with its fame than anything."
It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Hagrid hadn't pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't' see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Hagrid could see it.
"That's true. It's spelled to keep Muggles from accidentally entering it," Cedric said. "The only Muggles able to see it are those who have students at Hogwarts, and they have to be with said student to see and enter it."
Before he could mention this, Hagrid had steered him inside.
For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few women wee sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them were smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut.
Cedric snorted at that, having met Tom before. The description was quite right.
The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Hagrid; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Hagrid?"
"Can't, Tom, I'm on Hogwarts business," said Hagrid, clapping his great hand on Harry's shoulder and making Harry's knees buckle.
"Great, he's drawn the attention onto you," Hermione said.
"Congratulations, Harry, you're getting your first look into your fame," said Cedric.
"Good Lord," said the bartender, peering at Harry, "is this – can this be –?"
The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.
"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter…what an honor."
He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed towards Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.
"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."
"I didn't know I'd gone anywhere," Harry said.
"I think he's basically saying welcome back to the wizarding world," Cedric said.
Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Hagrid was beaming.
"I don't think I'm going to like the attention all that much," Harry said.
"I don't think it was fair of Hagrid to purposely throw you in that situation, especially since you weren't used to being famous yet," Hermione said, looking deeply disapproving of Hagrid's actions.
Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Harry found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.
"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last."
"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."
"Always wanted to shake your hand – I'm all of a flutter."
"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."
"Hey, is that the person whom Professor McGonagall accused of doing something in first chapter?" Hermione asked. The other thought for a moment.
"You know what, I think it is," Cedric said. "Why don't you check?"
Hermione flipped back to the beginning of the book, finding what she was thinking of rather quickly.
"Yes it is. See, it says 'Shooting stars down in Kent – I'll bet that was Dedalus Diggle. He never had much sense.'"
"Somehow, I have a feeling that this won't be the last time we hear of him," Harry said. The others nodded.
"We probably should have realized that when he was first mentioned," Luna said.
"I've seen you before!" said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."
"So you've already met him," Cedric said, looking deeply amused.
"Somehow, I have a feeling saying that is going to make him even more excited," Hermione said, also looking amused.
"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!"
"Like I said, more excited," Hermione laughed.
Harry shook hands again and again – Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.
A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.
"Professor Quirrell!" said Hagrid. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."
"He must of changed which class he'll teach, if he's going to be one of your teachers," Cedric said. The others looked at him curiously.
"He was the Muggle Studies teacher up until last year, when he took a sabbatical. I remember several of the upperclassmen making comments about it last year, saying that they hope the substitute would stay. I guess he wasn't really much of a teacher," Cedric explained.
"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."
"Please tell me we don't have to listen to him stutter all the time?" Hermione pleaded.
"If he stuttered like that when he was the Muggle Studies teacher, I can understand why the upperclassmen wanted the substitute to stay instead," Cedric said. "What class is he going to teach?"
"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"
"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it.
"So he won't be lasting the year," Cedric said, then turned towards Hermione. "Looks like we're only going to have to deal with him for around a year, unless he leaves earlier."
"N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously. "I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself." He looked terrified at the very thought.
"Lovely," Hermione said dryly.
But the others wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harry to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Hagrid managed to make himself heard over the babble.
"Shouldn't he have been able to do that beforehand?" Hermione said. Cedric nodded. "So, basically, he was what, thinking Harry would like the attention or something?"
The others had no answers for her.
"Must get on – lots ter buy. Come on, Harry."
Doris Crockford shook Harry's hand one last time, and Hagrid led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a few weeds.
Hagrid grinned at Harry
He's acting as if he was expecting Harry to be grateful for the attention thought Cedric, realizing that Hagrid was mistaking Harry for his father, who, from what he'd heard, would love the attention.
"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh – mind you, he's usually tremblin'."
"Is he always that nervous?"
"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience… They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag – never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject – now, where's me umbrella?"
Vampires? Hags? Harry's head was swimming. Hagrid, meanwhile, was counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.
"Three up…two across…" he muttered. "Right, stand back, Harry."
He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella.
The brink he had touched quivered – it wiggled – in the middle, a small hole appeared – it grew wider and wider – a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a bobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.
"Welcome," said Hagrid, "to Diagon Alley."
He grinned at Harry's amazement. They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into solid wall.
"So it closes right back up?" Hermione said. Cedric nodded.
"What happens if you don't know how to open the archway?" Harry asked.
"Tom will help you open it," Cedric said, having needing the help last summer.
The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons – All Sizes – Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver – Self-Stirring – Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.
"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," said Hagrid, "but we gotta get yer money first."
Harry wished he had about eight more eyes.
"I think everyone does on their first visit," Cedric said. "Even those used to things like that."
He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad…"
"Not really," said Cedric. "It could cost a whole lot more, especially since they have to wait until a dragon dies to get it, and there aren't that many dragons left in the world. If I'm thinking correctly, other apothecary's would charge several Galleons for it. That one is just one Galleon."
Harry and Hermione looked at him confused.
"Seventeen Sickles equals one Galleon, just as Twenty-nine Knuts equals one Sickle," he said.
"I guess knowing that would be good," Hermione said. "Especially if you accidently run out of Galleons or Sickles, and need to equate Sickles to Galleons or Knuts to Sickles or even Knuts to Galleons."
However, Cedric was also thinking about the woman who said that. It sounded a lot like Mrs. Weasley, but he also couldn't think of what reason she would be needing dragon liver for, so he wasn't sure.
A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium – Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand – fastest ever –"
"I take it brooms are important," Hermione said. Cedric nodded.
"Yeah, we use them for travel and playing Quidditch," he said. "Wizarding sport," he added to their confused looks.
There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon…
"Sounds like it would be a wonderful sight to see," Hermione sighed.
"Gringotts," said Hagrid.
They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was –
"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Hagrid quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Harry noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:
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.
"That's a rather nice poem," Hermione said. Luna nodded in agreement.
"Like I said, yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it," said Hagrid.
A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid and Harry made for a counter.
"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe."
"You have his key, sir?"
"I hope he does," Cedric said. "Otherwise, you won't be able to get into your vault – at least, you won't be able to get into your trust vault."
"Trust vault?" Harry asked.
"Yeah, the vault you'll be able to access for your school years, as you can't access any of the main Potter vaults until your seventeen," Cedric explained.
"What happens if I empty it?" Harry asked. "And how many vaults do I own?"
"Impossible; trust vaults have to have a set amount of money in it at all times," Cedric said, "and that's even if you can get all the money in it in one go. As for how many vaults, I'm not quite sure, I just know that there is more than one, not counting the trust vault."
"What if I want to share the money?" Harry asked. He wasn't used to having so much money, and wasn't sure if he wanted to keep it all to himself; he would feel much better if he could share it with someone.
"I don't know. I suppose you could add someone on so that you're not the only one with access, but that's a matter you have to talk to the goblins about," Cedric said. "Why?"
"Because I'm not sure if I want to be the sole owner of so much money," Harry answered. "I think I would feel better if I could share it with someone." He turned towards Hermione. "If I can make it happen, will you be willing to take the position of other person able to get into the vault?"
"What, are you asking me to share your vault?" she asked. "Sure. I guess I wouldn't mind. I'm sure my parents won't mind you supporting me," she added the last part underneath her breath.
"That settles it; if I can make it happen, you will be someone who can get into the vault with me," Harry said, already feeling a bit better. Cedric and Luna looked at each other, amused over his antics, but they didn't say anything. If it made Harry feel better sharing his money, he could share his money.
"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, and he started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pole of rubies as big as glowing coals.
"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a tiny golden key.
The goblin looked at it closely.
"That seems to be in order."
"An' I've got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."
"Hagrid probably shouldn't have said that in front of you," Hermione said.
The goblin read the letter carefully.
"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"
Griphook was yet another goblin.
"Of course," Luna said. "What were you expecting?"
Harry shrugged, unsure of what he might have thought.
Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.
"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked.
"He's not going to tell you straight up," Cedric said. "He's not drunk, you're not offering anything up, and you're not flattering him."
Hermione and Luna snorted at that.
"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."
"It's like he's begging you to bug him," Hermione said, looking disapproving.
Griphook held the door open for them. Harry, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in – Hagrid with some difficulty – and were off.
At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible.
"That's the idea," Cedric said. "It makes it harder for a person to rob them if they don't have a clear idea of where they need to go, even if they went to the vault they want to steal from more than once because you also get different goblins each visit, and get there a different way as well, though most people don't realize that.
"Though, I do have to commend you on your memory; you remembered more than I did my first visit to my family's vault."
"You took notes of that, right Harry?" Hermione asked. He pouted at her as the others laughed.
The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.
"They never do," said Cedric.
Harry's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon,
Harry, Cedric, and Luna leaned forward, eager to know the answer; Cedric was hoping that it was because he wanted to win the bet.
but too late
The other three seem to deflate at that, and Hermione giggled at their actions.
– they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.
"I never know," Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"
"You know, that is true, I don't know the difference," said Harry.
"Well, both are usually calcium carbonate formed by dripping percolating calcareous water," said Hermione, "so it's not hard to not know the difference between them."
"But I get the feeling that you know," Cedric said. Hermione blushed as she nodded her head.
"What is it?" Harry asked.
"Stalactites form on the ceiling, and stalagmites form on the floor. Also, stalagmites are usually broader compared to stalactites," she said. Harry nodded, easily able to understand that. He was slightly surprised at that, since he had almost expected a rather long and complicated spiel that left him confused and unable to understand.
"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid.
"Of course, you could also go with his explanation," said Hermione as the others laughed.
"An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."
"At least he has a good reason to tell you not to ask questions," Hermione said.
He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.
"Poor Hagrid," Hermione said. Harry nodded.
Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and, as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.
"All yours," smiled Hagrid.
All Harry's – it was incredible. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it taken from him faster than blinking.
"That's true," Harry muttered. They had often complained about how much Harry cost them, and would have most likely said that it was owed to them Cedric frowned.
How often had they complained how much Harry cost them to keep?
"What do they mean by that?" Cedric said. "I know that there getting paid to take care of you; my father mentioned it after overhearing it at work. They're getting paid 2,616 pounds yearly to take care of you."
"Really?" Harry said, wondering why he hadn't mentioned this before. He would have thought that Cedric would have mentioned it when they mentioned the clothes and glasses. Cedric nodded.
"Why didn't you say thing before?" Harry said. Cedric shrugged – he had actually forgotten that before, and it was only the mention of the goblins that had made him remember.
"How do you know how many pounds their paying, especially when you don't use pounds?" Hermione asked.
"One of my friends told me how much it was to converse pounds into Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts," he said. "And I figured it out from the number of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts that is said that there being paid."
"How much is a pound to a Galleon? How much is it to a Sickle? A Knut?" Hermione asked, sounding excited. The others laughed.
"Five pounds is equal to a Galleon, point twenty-nine pounds to a Sickle, and point one one hundreth to a Knut," said Cedric. Hermione quickly did the math in her head.
"So their getting about paid fourty-three Galleons, two Sickles, and two Knuts monthly, which is about five hundred twenty-three Galleons and twenty Knuts yearly," Hermione said. Cedric's eyes widened at how quick she did that.
"That's about right," he said. However, Hermione wasn't thinking about that – instead, she was thinking about something else.
"So you're saying that Harry's aunt and uncle are getting paid to take care of him?" she asked. Cedric nodded.
"Well, I guess that would explain why their able to get their son whatever he wants – that amount of money on top of whatever your uncle makes would ensure that they can do so," Hermione said. "Do you think Dumbledore knows this, because I can only hope he doesn't."
"Why?" Luna asked.
"Well, if he doesn't know, then I can't yell at him, just make sure that he gets informed of this – hopefully, the information will allow for you to leave that place, with all the money they owe you since it hadn't been used towards you as it was supposed to be. However, if he does, then nothing – and, I repeat, nothing – is going to stop me from cursing him every time I see him, as it is obvious that he isn't doing a damn thing about it," Hermione said. Harry, Cedric, and Luna all exchanged a glance as she seethed. While she brought up a good point, they didn't think cursing Dumbledore would do any good, and vowed not to tell her if he did happen to know.
And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London.
Hagrid helped Harry pole some of it into a bag.
"The gold ones are Galleons," he explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough. Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh." He turned to Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"
"There's only one speed," Cedric said, knowing from experience. His father had asked that question himself.
"One speed only," said Griphook.
They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling lover and underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck.
"Do you know what's down there?" Harry asked Cedric, who shook his head.
Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.
"A high security vault, then," Cedric muttered.
"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.
"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.
"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.[/b]
"Casing the place," Hermione sang softly. Harry went red as the others laughed.
"How long are you going to keep saying I'm going to rob the bank?" he asked. Hermione, Cedric, and Luna all looked at each other.
"Every time you go there," they all answered unanimously.
"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.
"Lovely," Hermione said, sounding sarcastic.
Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Harry was sure, and he leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least
"Not every extraordinary item is flashy," said Cedric.
– but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.
I don't think you would have gotten an answer anyways," stated Luna.
"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.
"Wow. That has to be the clearest we've heard him speaking yet," Hermione said.
One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Harry didn't know where to run first now that he had a bag full of money. He didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that he was holding more money than he'd had in his whole life – more money than even Dudley had ever had
There were scowls at the mention of the lack of money he'd been given in his whole life, then grins at the mention that his cousin had never had as much himself.
"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts."
"He left you alone?" Hermione screeched. Harry winced; he would really hate to be Hagrid at that moment.
"If he was being truthful, then I would prefer to be alone than to have him sick on me," Harry said, effectively calming her down.
He did still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.
Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.
"Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."
"Maybe you can make another friend," Cedric said. He didn't say his first friend because one, he figured that Harry considered him, Luna, and Hermione friends already, just as he considered Harry, Hermione, and Luna friends; and two, he didn't want to say it because it sounded a bit heartless.
In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes.
"Maybe not," Cedric corrected upon learning a bit about the boy. He sounded like a Malfoy, and Cedric had a feeling that they would most likely end up clashing on ideas a bit too much to become friends; the main one being the Malfoy's family's usual beliefs about blood.
He noticed the others looks at him, but motioned towards the book, as if saying that the answer would be given in there, something he expected to be true.
Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.
"Hello," said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy.
"I wonder why she's looking at wands," Cedric said, "especially since she doesn't really have any say in what wand her son gets; the wand is what chooses the witch and wizard, after all."
He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggled it somehow."
Harry was strongly reminded of Dudley.
"I think that right there says I'm not going to get along with him very well," Harry said.
"Have you got your own broom?" the boy went on.
"No," said Harry.
"Play Quidditch at all?"
"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.
"A sport, a very important sport, in the wizarding world," Cedric said. The barely concealed excitement at the mention of it said that he was a big fan of it, which was very true. He had been thinking about trying out this year, but decided to wait until at least next year to do so – that way, if he would be able to at least get used to taking more classes than normal without the added pressure of practice.
Hermione figured she should start reading, not wanting to get into an explanation about a sport, as she wasn't much of a sports fan.
"I do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"
"House?" Hermione said questioningly.
"School houses," said Cedric. He didn't say anything else, as he wasn't sure how to explain why they needed school houses. He just knew that it was something the founders came up with, and that the houses were named after them.
"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.
"Why is he even mentioning that? I mean, does he expect everyone to know things like Quidditch and the school houses," Hermione said.
"Yes," Cedric said. He really didn't' want to explain this yet, but he had a feeling that it would eventually come up anyways.
"There are a few wizarding families that believe that magic should only be kept within wizards only, something that is stupid to think because no one really has a say in who is allowed magic or not – at least, not that I've seen. Plus, because of this belief, more and more pureblood families are experiencing problems, like infertility, birth defects, and have even produced Squibs, which are wizarding children who can't use magic. They have enough of it to see magic, but that's about it," Cedric said. Hermione remembered him mentioning something like this earlier, though it was about those who followed Voldemort, and he hadn't gone into an explanation about it…nor did she or Harry ask about it earlier.
"And, of course, instead of realizing this, they hold onto their beliefs, and don't realize that they're very likely to die out, or refuse to believe that they will, showing what idiots they are," Luna said.
"So, what, Hermione and I are going to be experiencing prejudice because of who are parents are?" Harry asked. Cedric shook his head.
"You, Harry, you'll be fine, and not just because your famous, but because your what's known as a half-blood, though, for those who are hardcore in blood beliefs, it'll be your fame that holds their tongues," Cedric said, then turned towards Hermione. "You, on the other hand will, but, for the most part, only from those who think like that; most of them will end up in a certain house, though, so I don't think you'll have to worry about it all that much, since you'll most likely be surrounded by those who don't care all that much."
"Of course, you're pretty smart, so you'll most likely become a good example that it doesn't matter who your parents are," Luna said knowingly. She could just tell that the girl across from her was smart, if not a little too logical – narrow minded to be honest, just a little bit too narrow minded, sadly. Luna wondered if she would be able to get Hermione to open up a bit, in the books or real life.
Hermione blushed at the compliment, especially when Cedric nodded his head in agreement.
"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been –"
"Just because you family has all been in a house doesn't mean hat it'll always happen. You either go into the house that you will mostly represent, though I have heard that your personal opinion can be taken into account," Cedric said.
"Then why is he so sure that he'll go to Slytherin?" asked Hermione.
"Well, he either doesn't know that all families do not end up in the same house, but I think it more has to do with the fact that it's expected of him. Slytherin is apparently the house where blood purity is supposedly important, so those who have those beliefs tend to go to that house and want their children to do the same, a way of 'keeping themselves from mixing with the wrong type' sort of deal," Cedric said.
"imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"
"Hey," Cedric said, sounding insulted.
"I take it you're a Hufflepuff, then," Hermione said. He nodded.
"I could have been a Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, though. I just had the qualities of Hufflepuff more than anything else, though," said Cedric.
"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could say something a bit more interesting.
"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.
"I wonder what flavors he got," Harry mused.
"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."
"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"
"Hey," Harry said, feeling insulted on Hagrid's behalf. He hadn't met him yet, but, from what he could tell already, Hagrid was very nice.
"As much as I hate to say this, what I mentioned earlier, with the blood purity thing, that kind of applies here as well, in a way," Cedric said, then added on at the confused looks he was getting from Harry and Hermione.
"I mean in the way they learn things. They don't just believe the blood purity thing out of thin air; they are usually taught from a young age by their parents, who learned the same way. Calling Hagrid a servant is also done the same way; their parents call him that so often that they believe it to be true. And very few of them ever learn or believe anything otherwise, because it's hard to imagine a parent lying to you."
"Does that mean that there are a few who do break away from such beliefs?" Hermione asked. Cedric nodded his head.
"Only a few, though," he warned.
"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less every second.
"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage – lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."
"I don't know about the fire thing, but he does kind of do that sometimes," Cedric said, wincing slightly under the glare Harry gave him.
"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.
"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"
"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.
"Smart idea," said Cedric. "He would have most likely realized who you were and then done a complete turn around. Most of the people who you meet are very likely to act differently compared to the way they usually would because they want to impress you and become your friends, mostly for the fact of being known as Harry Potter's friend. There will probably be a fair few who act like that – examples will probably be shown.
"That's, uh, not to say that you won't get a friend or two who want to be your friend and not because your famous," Cedric quickly said in response to the sad look that crossed Harry's face at that. "I can honestly say that I am your friend, and not because you're famous; I'm also pretty sure that it's the same way with Luna and Hermione."
The two nodded their heads; they were friends with Harry because he was just Harry, not because he was famous. Or, rather, they believed themselves to be his friends; he would have to think of them as friends for them to be true ones.
"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"
"And here's were it starts," Cedric said sarcastically.
"They were a witch and a wizard, if that's what you mean."
"Quick question," Hermione suddenly said. "Why would Harry be considered a half-blood if both of his parents could use magic?"
Cedric winced. He was hoping no one would notice that. It seemed like he wasn't successful in the endeavor. "They don't count Muggleborns as real witches or wizards, despite the fact that they are. In order to be a pureblood, your parents have to have several generations of witches and wizards," he said. "It's all really stupid, anyway, but that's how it is."
"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you?"
"There really isn't a choice. If your born able to use magic, you have the right to go to a magic school, any magic school, since Hogwarts isn't the only one. Plus, I've heard that if your not trained, bad things could happen – you need to be train so that bouts of magic like accidental magic don't happen often," Luna said.
"They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways."
"That makes it sound like they don't care for change all that much," Hermione said.
"They don't," Cedric answered. "It can also be a problem, because change usually is beneficial."
"Wouldn't the ministry help implicate changes that are good?" Hermione asked. Cedric shook his head.
"If there were competent people, then, yeah, probably. However, those who usually get chosen to be minister or the heads of departments are usually chosen by those who have the funds to back them up, and since those who have the funds to back them up are usually the purebloods who are afraid of change…" He didn't need to continue; they all understood what was being said.
"That, of course, is not to say it's that way with everyone; however, the minister has the most power, and I can honestly say that the family with the most influence over Fudge is the Malfoys, who are some of the biggest pure blood fanatics, and, so long as Mr. Malfoy puts enough gold down, he pretty much gets what he wants; the ministry is almost completely in his pocket because of that."
"That's just sad," Hermione said. "Can't something be done about that?"
"Not unless the minister becomes someone who isn't easily bribed," Cedric said.
"How did Fudge become minister in the first place?" Harry asked.
"By saying the right things, and being backed by the pureblood families gold, which meant that he was able to do more to get people to vote for him during the campaign because he was able to get himself out there more by being able to pay for it. Plus the fact that he promised a lot of things – none of which made for changing the way people lived, though they were cleverly worded enough to seem like the opposite – and the fact that his only real opponent was so unpopular that it was really just between him and Dumbledore, who would never leave the school, that Fudge got it."
"Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine."
"That doesn't mean anything. I'm sure that it's the same with Muggle schools as well, unless your going to the same one your parents will be," Cedric said.
"That's true," Hermione said; she hadn't heard of some of the schools she came across when her parents mentioned possibly sending her somewhere; it was what made her curious enough to look up others.
"I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families."
"That wouldn't work out very well – despite what they say, there are less and less families, with quite a few dying out or giving births to only Squibs. If they continue in that vein, then they'd become wiped out," Luna said. "Of course, that's not counting half-bloods, since they themselves don't count half-bloods as much."
"True," Cedric said.
"What's your surname, anyway?"
"Potter, who are known blood traitors to people like him," Cedric said. "Blood traitors are purebloods who don't believe in that crap. They're called traitors by those who do because of the fact that they don't believe in it."
But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.
"You know, I'm surprise he's in there, since pretty much every new, and old, student shops there for their Hogwarts robe," Cedric commented. "I know that him and his parents would begin to avoid going to that store because of that, since it means that Muggleborns also shop there."
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.
"Unfortunately," Harry and Hermione said, not liking the boy.
Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).
"What's up?" said Hagrid.
"Nothing," Harry lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote.
"That does sound nice," Hermione said.
When they had left the shop, he said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"
"Blimy, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know – not knowin' about Quidditch!"
"Oh, he's going to make you feel bad," Hermione said.
"Don't make me feel worse," said Harry. He told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin's.
"– and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in –"
"That's just an opinion, and your not really from a Muggle family. You just happen to have been raised by one," Luna said.
"Yer not from a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh were – he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles – look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"
"He is right, you know. Your mother was one of the best of their year, especially in Potions and Charms," Cedric said.
"So what is Quidditch?"
"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like – like soccer in the Muggle world – everyone follows Quidditch"
"He makes that should like what the same between them is because everyone follows soccer in the Muggle world, which isn't true," Hermione said. "I mean, I don't, and neither does my parents."
Cedric shrugged, not sure if he was making a comparison between the two, or actually saying that everyone in the Muggle world followed soccer; he didn't even know what soccer was, though, now knowing that it was sport, he was going to have to look into it.
"– played up in the air on broomsticks and there's our balls – sorta hard ter explain the rules."
"Not true!" Cedric said. Hermione quickly began reading before he could say more; she didn't want to be subjected to a long spiel about a sport.
"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"
"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers,"
"Hey. We are not!" Cedric said, incensed.
"Cedric, Hagrid was about to say more," Hermione said, turning back to the book. Seems like Harry interrupts him, though she thought, seeing the unfinished sentence.
"but –"
"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Harry gloomily.
"Hufflepuff isn't that bad," Cedric said insistently.
"I wonder what Hagrid was going to say about them," said Luna.
"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin."
"Now that is a straight up lie," said Cedric. "As much as I hate to admit it, every house at school has had bad witches and wizards. Slytherin just happens to turn out the majority of them."
"What's the big deal about the houses?" Hermione asked. "Why does Hagrid say that? And why does Slytherin turn out the most bad witches and wizards? Plus, what are the qualities of each house, and how do you know which one you go into?"
"The houses are important because they represent the founders of Hogwarts. Each house is named after them, and they each have a specific quality to them. The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Gryiffindors are usually brave and courageous, Hufflepuffs are usually fair and loyal, Ravenclaws are usually intelligent, and Slytherins are usually cunning and ambitious. Slytherin usually turns out bad witches and wizards because one, those who go into it are the children of those who supported Voldemort and believe him to be right, and two, sometime ambition can be put towards the wrong type of activity; most of the witches and wizards who are considered bad are the ones who use dark magic."
"And you're a Hufflepuff?" Hermione asked. When he nodded, she said, "So that means that you are fair and loyal." He nodded again.
"I could have been in Gryffindor or Ravenclaw, though. I can be brave when need be, and I am pretty intelligent, despite the opinion of some people."
Harrry, who had only followed the conversation up to a certain point, began to think about something else.
"I wonder why Hagrid is so against the Slytherin house," he said, drawing Cedric's and Hermione's attention from their discussion of what house she might be in.
"What do you mean?" Cedric asked.
"Well, as you said, Slytherin may turn out the majority, but not every witch or wizard goes bad in that house, which means that he has some other prejudice against it. I wonder what that prejudice is," Harry explained. Hermione thought over everything they had been told so far, them remembered something in the previous chapter.
"Do you think it may have something to do with why he was expelled?" Hermione asked. The other three shrugged.
"It's a good suggestion," Cedric said. Hermione turned back to the book, saw the next line, then said, "Or maybe this is the real reason."
The other three looked at her curiously.
"You-Know-Who was one."
"I didn't know that," Cedric said, looking interested. "Well, actually, I've never seen V-Voldemort's name on a list of previous students who went to Hogwarts, at least."
"Vol-, sorry – You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"
Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.
"I wonder how far," Cedric said. "I mean, I've looked as far as the seventeen hundreds, but I don't think Voldemort's that old."
"Is Voldemort even his real name?" Hermione asked. Cedric shrugged, not knowing.
They bought Harry's school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelve were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all.
Hermione looked like she was about to start drooling at the descriptions, much to the amusement of the others.
Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these. Hagrid almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.
"Nice name," Hermione snorted.
"I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley."
"I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid, "An' anyway, yeh couldn' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level."
Hagrid would let Harry but a solid gold cauldron, either ("It's says pewter on yer list"),
"It's not worth getting one anyways," Luna said. "The gold cauldrons are only for certain potions, ones that only the most experienced potion masters can make."
but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbage.
Harry wrinkled his nose at that.
Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).
Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry's list again.
"Just yer wand left – oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."
Harry felt himself go red.
Just as the Harry in the room was doing as well.
"You don't have to –"
"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Now a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at – an' I don' like cats,"
"What's wrong with cats?" Hermione asked, indignant. She was a great cat lover – though she didn't have one at the moment, as she hadn't really gotten over her cat Aria's death quite yet.
"Nothings wrong with cats. I'm sure that Hagrid has a perfectly good reason for not getting Harry one…other than the fact that I'm sure Harry doesn't really want one, after what Mrs. Figg practically put him through, making him look at pictures of every cat she owned every time he went over to her house," Cedric said.
"they make me sneeze."
"Okay, I guess he does have a good reason," Hermione said.
"I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."
"They do sound useful," Hermione said. "I think I'd want a cat, though, if I had to choose between them, unless, you're allowed more than one animal."
"Yes and no. You can have an owl with something else, because owls usually stay in the Owlery, and are often used enough that they're not there enough, but they prefer you only have one animal," Cedric said. He should know; he had an owl and cat that usually went with him to school.
Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing.
"She sounds lovely," Hermione sighed. Then she turned towards Cedric.
"Um, just wondering. Are owls like other animals, with some taking to you and others no, or…"
"Owls mostly take to everyone, but there are some that will cause lots or problems to others, waiting for the right person to come. They are rather intelligent animals, a bit like Kneazles in that respect," Cedric said. Hermione looked like she was about to ask what Kneazles were, but decided otherwise. She would probably find out later in the books.
He couldn't stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell.
"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Dursleys."
Hermione made a face at that mention; she really didn't like hearing about that.
"Just Ollivanders left now – only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."
A magic wand…this was what Harry had been really looking forward to.
"I think everyone does," Cedric said.
"I know I am," Hermione sighed.
The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Maker of Fine Wands since 382 B. C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.
"Is that someone's wand?" Harry asked Cedric. He shrugged.
"Yes, but no one other than Ollivander knows, and he changed the story with every new customer he gets," he said.
"That's a long time to have been making wands," Hermione said.
"It's a family business…I think," Cedric said.
A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library;
"It does tend to feel like that," admitted Cedric.
he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.
"You were probably feeling the wands," Cedric said. "And you must be strong if it was affecting you – most people barely notice it."
"Did you notice it?" Harry asked.
"Yes," Cedric said.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair.
"I doubt he couldn't just sit back in it. It doesn't break, even if it looks like it would," Cedric said, then added, ""my dad sat down in it, but jumped when Ollivander did that to us, and it broke on him too, but the minute he stood up, if fixed itself."
An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.
"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.
"Ah, yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I though I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "Your have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
"True, Mum says she was the best in their year. The only other things she was better at was Potions," Cedric said; the familiar 'I'm learning about my parents' smile graced Harry's face.
Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy.
"True, very true," Cedric said, glad that he had no reason to visit that store again – unless, of course, his father broke his wand again. He had to go there again when that had happened, just last summer.
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration."
"And that's true as well, from what I've for hear," said Cedric.
"Well, I say your father favored it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."
"That's true as well," Cedric said, remembering what he had read about wandlore.
Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.
"And that's where…"
Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.
"Okay, he's really creeping me out now," Harry said, shivering. He liked his scar, but he was beginning to feel that he was going to hate it before this was over. It was already beginning, after all.
"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands…well, if I'd know what that wand was going out into the world to do…"
"Unless he's a Seer, there was no way he would have known what Voldemort was going to do," Cedric said, noting, surprisingly, that he wasn't quite as afraid to say the name anymore as he had once been. He hadn't stuttered this time – he wondered how long it would last.
"Yeah, unless Voldemort has a sign painted on his forehead at the time that said 'Future Evil Wizard', he wouldn't have known," Hermione said. "It's hard to tell what a person is going to do; no one is really born evil, they just evolve into it, though there are some people whom it is more noticeable in than others when they're younger."
He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid.
"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again…Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"
"Wow, that extremely impressive, how quickly he knows who a person by their wands," Hermione said.
"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.
"Good wand, that one. But I supposed they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.
"Er – yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still go the pieces, though," he added brightly.
"Hagrid," Cedric chuckled. "You shouldn't tell him that."
"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.
"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly.
"Right," Hermione said, sounding sarcastic.
Harry noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke.
"It's his wand, isn't it?" Harry asked.
"Yes it is. He told me," Cedric said.
"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now – Mr. Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"
"Wand arm?" Harry asked.
"Which had do you write with. Usually, your writing hand and ward arm are the same one," Cedric said, putting it into a term Hermione and him could understand.
"Er – well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.
"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then write to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round his head.
"Why so many measurements?" Hermione asked.
"It's supposed to measure the magical powers of someone," Cedric said. "I don't know exactly how it works, though. But it is supposed to give him an idea of the kind of wand you'd be good with."
As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We used unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."
"Not completely true," Cedric said. "A wand can be borrowed if the ones using it is a great friend of the owner, or if the one using it wins it from its previous owner; the wand will change its allegiances if that happens."
"Really?" Hermione said.
"Well, I've borrowed my friend Wyatt's wand when I can't find mine, and I've never had a problem using it, so…" he trailed off.
Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.
"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.
Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try –"
Harry tried – but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.
"Why isn't he letting me wave them, especially after he told me to?" Harry asked.
"Because he can tell that the wands not right for you – well, more like he already had an idea. Trust me when I say that when you get your wand, you will know," Cedric said.
"No, no – here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."
Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.
"And that is why he never hands you the right wand straight off the bat," Cedric said. "He likes to make you go through many wands if he thinks your going to be powerful; it's a specialty if his."
"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not - unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."
"I think this is going to be your wand, Harry," Cedric said, noticing that, save for the first three wands he tried, this was the first of the wands after a while to be mentioned as what he was trying.
Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers.
"Yup, it's your wand," Cedric said.
"Is that what you meant when you said you would know?" Hermione asked. Cedric nodded.
He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, Bravo! Yes, oh, very good. Well, well, well…how curious…how very curious…"
"What?" Harry asked, looking for all the world that he was dreading the answer.
He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious…curious…"
"Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?"
"You shouldn't apologize for being curious, especially since he's pretty much setting you up to asking him," Luna said.
"True," Hermione said.
Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand."
"Yes, that's usually how you identify people by," Cedric said. Hermione, who had gone silent when she saw Cedric's mouth open out the corner of her eye, read on silently, her eyes widening as she read exactly what it was that had Mr. Ollivander going 'curious…curious.'
"It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, its brother gave you that scar."
Stunned silence abounded. No one was sure what to think of that; the only thing they knew was that it didn't sound very good.
"Well," Cedric said. "I doubt it means your going to be come an evil git or anything or the like. I think it just means that your going to be really strong…and brother wands can be pretty peculiar, so who knows, it might come in handy, specifically if Voldemort is still alive. And I have a feeling that you would still have that wand, even if Voldemort had done nothing to you and your parents were there – I really can't think of anything that would make you have a different wand than that one."
Harry swallowed.
"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember…. I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter…. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."
Harry opened his mouth to ask something, but the look Hermione gave him made him shut it again.
Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. He paid seven gold Galleons for his wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.
"Okay, Harry, you may speak," Hermione said, having wanted to finished with the Ollivander part before any more comments were said.
"What does he mean, 'Voldemort did great things'? I mean, does he think what Voldemort did was great or the magic that he did?" Harry asked. Cedric thought for a moment.
"I think he meant the magic.. Nothing impresses Ollivander more than magic, nothing, and, as much as I hate to say this, but, as dark as what Voldemort did, it was still impressive magic, ergo, Ollivander thinks of it as great," Cedric said.
The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harry and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Harry didn't speak at all as they walked down the road; he didn't even notice how much people were gawking at them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped packages, with the snowy owl asleep in its cage on Harry's lap.
"You mustn't be out of it completely if you were still able to note that," Hermione said. "Otherwise, the book probably wouldn't mention it like it does."
Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Harry only realized where they were when Hagrid tapped him on the shoulder.
"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said.
He bough Harry a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. Harry kept looking around. Harry kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow.
"That's probably because you now know of another part of the world that they don't," Luna said.
"You all right, Harry? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid.
Harry wasn't sure he could explain. He'd just had the best birthday of his life – and yet – he chewed him hamburger, trying to find the words.
"Everyone thinks I', special," he said at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander…but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I', famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't what happened when Vol-, sorry – I mean, the night my parents died."
Hermione and Cedric smiled sadly at Harry.
"Don't worry, Harry, I'm sure you'll be fine," Hermione said.
"As for the magic part, most students pick things up pretty quickly; and you won't be alone. Not everyone grew up knowing about magic," Cedric said. "And you'll love Hogwarts – it's wonder."
Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile.
"Don' you worry, Harry. You'll fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts – I did – still do, 'smatter of fact."
Good ol' Hagrid. He's definitely living up to reputation thought Cedric, smiling. He knew just what to say in almost any case in order to cheer someone up – Cedric had heard all about that from several others who had gone or ran into him upset and returned in a better mood.
Hagrid helped Harry on to the train that would take him back to the Dursleys, then handed him an envelope.
"Yer ticket fer Hogwart," he said. "First o' September – King's Cross – it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl, she'll know where to find me…. See yeh soon, Harry."
"I'm getting the feeling that Hagrid forgot to tell him something, but I can't think of what…" Cedric said, trailing off as he thought about what it might be that he had the feeling that Hagrid had forgotten. He asked Hermione to reread the section, but still couldn't think of what it was.
"I'll probably remember later," he said, turning back towards Hermione, who had bee waiting patiently for him to say what it was.
The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone.
"That's it for this chapter," Hermione said. "Cedric?"
He took the book she offers, still thinking about what it was that made him think that Hagrid had forgotten to tell Harry. Still thinking, he half-heartily turned the page.