In Silence

Harry left Privet Drive with Sirius and promptly had his mind blown to bits by a magical shopping street. He’d always privately prided himself on being rather observant, but that came back to bite him this time as he was overwhelmed by everything around him. 

Now the two had finished shopping and Harry sat opposite Sirius in one of Leaky Cauldron’s parlors. He felt almost grateful for the quiet and dullness of the room they were in at the moment as it allowed him to process his new reality. 

Harry would be lying if he said it wasn’t exciting to know magic was real because it’s magic! Everyone hopes it’s real at some point in their lives and now he knows it is, and that apparently, it always has been. When Sirius told him he was a wizard he could barely believe it. Not only was there magic, but Harry was also one of the few people who could use it! 

He’d still been a bit reluctant to leave with Sirius, but there was just too much he had to ask him to not go. And then they’d gotten to Diagon Alley and all his questions were squashed by a new found curiosity. He thought he’d reached the pinnacle of surprise for the day back at the Dursleys’ house, but all those events were resoundingly topped by the magical shops and dazzlingly dressed people walking around the place.  

‘Wizards,’ his mind provided. The strange, magic wielding folk which the Dursleys had always hated him for being a part of. From what he’d gathered before his thoughts were derailed by flocks of owls and flying broomsticks andlegitimate magical potions– the Dursleys hated magic, and therefore hated Harry by extension. 

Profound revelations aside though, Harry had gotten his first ever shopping rush while he was down at Diagon Alley. But really, he wasn’t going to blame himself for the bags sitting next to him because he hadn’t explicitly asked for all that, Sirius had just bought anything that seemed to catch his eye. Which was literally everything. 

He’d spent nearly an hour just in Potage’s Cauldron Shop alone because, well, what do you mean the thing mixes itself? How does it know how to mix the potion you are brewing at the moment? Do you have to give it directions? Do you just tell it what you are making and it automatically knows the stirs? Does that come with insurance in case it fails and the thing blows up in your face? And the collapsible one, what’s that about? Is travel convenience its only perk? Surely there are spells for that? Why would anyone buy something they could probably just shrink themselves? Why were there so many types of cauldrons anyways? Where’s the ‘general for students of [insert School Year here]’ cauldron? Would they need a new one next year for the more advanced potions they’d presumably be doing? Did the school require them to get a Pewter size two cauldron because they were the best and cheapest option? 

Usually Harry wouldn’t dare ask questions because the Dursleys forbid it, but he really couldn’t help himself. Then the floodgates were swung wide open when he realized Sirius didn’t mind answering his questions, and hell the man even seemed to encourage it. Of course, he was no cauldron expert himself, but he’d happily asked for Madam Potage on Harry’s behalf, and the establishment’s owner herself came to kindly answer his questions. 

He may have found it weird that the owner would bother with him at all when he was clearly new to the Wizarding world, but he was then distracted by another shop. 

He stood by the fact that all his shopping was Sirius’ doing because Harry had completely forgotten the list and was simply going around, asking about everything and didn’t even notice that Sirius was picking things up as they went. How could have he missed the bags? Well, Sirius was just buying and shrinking the packages so he never looked like he was carrying anything when Harry would look at him for answers. Things too big to carry or sensitive to magical shrinkage could also just be sent ahead by owls apparently.

The Apothecary smelled bad, but Harry had honestly smelled worse when Mother’s Day rolled around and Uncle Vernon had the bright idea of getting together with Dudley to make Aunt Petunia breakfast. 

Those foul meals were quickly put out of his mind however, and Harry lamented the fact that he didn’t have a notebook or something to write on because he was learning about a ton of creatures and magical plants and he just knew he’d forget half of them by the time he got to look them up. 

Still, he learned that for the most part no harm came to the creatures that the ingredients were collected from and that other times they were taken from those which had already died so as to not to leave them to waste, while on other occasions they were bought from farms. You needed licenses and permits and there were a ton of regulations depending on the creatures you were trying to raise, but it was a quite profitable business venture if you could fund it. 

According to Sirius though, the people who could afford it didn’t tend to advertise the fact they owned any because it was seen as a bit crude (“Unless they’re breeding some high class magical creatures. Then it’s all, ‘I got this new property overseas, got Unicorns running about hundreds of acres, look at how rich I am!’”). 

The magical plants were more boring, but their effects were nothing to sneeze at. That thought brought up a whole conversation about allergies, though Sirius dismissed his concerns saying that there were plenty of fixes for things like that (“Hogwarts’ got one of the best Healers out there, kid, don’t worry about it”). 

As he found out in Eeylops Owl Emporium, wizards have used owls to deliver their mail for ages. The birds had a natural affinity for magic and that paired with their discreet manner of getting around, made it a no-brainer for Wizarding society to make companions of them. 

The history bit given by one the birds’ caregivers was cool and all, but it still left Harry with a few questions; mainly about the bombardment of letters at Number 4 Privet Drive (“Did the owls put those letters in the eggs or did someone give them disguised egg-letters? No, no one would seriously do that…”; “Pft! Totally would, but honestly, I don’t know about that one, kiddo”). 

Harry went around looking at all the birds with Sirius following close behind and ultimately chose a pretty snowy owl which Sirius had sent ahead to the Leaky Cauldron while they finished their shopping. 

Once they’d left, Harry noticed there was a crowd of kids about his age or so, clamoring by the window display of one of the shops. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand it’s the fastest ever!" Harry looked at the broomstick they were all gawking at and gently pulled on the end of Sirius’ leather jacket. 

“I don’t assume they mean it cleans wicked fast?” he said, making Sirius laugh. 

“Merlin no, Harry. Wizarding folk use brooms to fly. ‘Course, those,” Sirius pointed at the broomstick on display, “are used for sport. Specifically made to be as fast as possible while also trying to keep the broom stable. New ones come out all the time because Quidditch is so popular. And you… you wouldn’t know a thing about that would you?” 

Harry promptly shook his head and Sirius sighed. The pair walked around the excited crowd of kids and into the shop where Sirius gave a small wave to the sales clerk who smiled brightly back at him. 

“Alright, Prongslet, I’ll give you a quick rundown of Quidditch,” Sirius said, putting an arm around his shoulder as he walked him to the back of the shop. 

The front most side of the store was filled with broomsticks of all sorts. The newest releases were displayed closest to the window while the older ones brought up the rear. One wall had shelves filled with kits for broom and ball maintenance, as well as adjustable protective gear. On the other side there were stacks of chests which supposedly contained the Quidditch balls. 

The back wall had what looked to be moving portraits of people geared up for Quidditch. The bottom row of pictures showed multiple groups of seven, each with different broomsticks and gear. The people smiled and waved animatedly at him before mounting their brooms and flying up to the larger field portraits above them. Multiple games ran at once and Harry was entirely entranced by the scenes. 

“How-” he started, but was cut off by the cheery voice of the sales clerk.

“Mr. Black! How delightful of you to come by, have you seen the latest broomstick? Oh, our store is so incredibly lucky to have gotten selling rights to the Nimbus Two Thousand, a beauty of broom, it is!” the man said, grinning broadly at Sirius. 

Harry had seen clerks trying to appeal to customers by playing up their own excitement over a product, but it was clear that this man wasn’t doing that. He was almost bouncing on his heels like the kids outside and his tone made it obvious how thrilled he was. 

“I have seen, Mr. Phanos,” Sirius nodded, smiling back at the man. “Faster ever, I heard?”

“By far! They cost a pretty knut, but they are still flying off the stands. Honestly, I’m surprised, Mr. Potter hasn’t come in or ordered one. Quite the enthusiast that man, always such a pleasure to talk to. But alas, he’s probably busy, what with his son going to Hogwarts this coming school year!” Mr. Phanos beamed.

Harry blinked up at the man before turning to Sirius who’s laugh had turned just a tad bit forced. 

“Quite,” he replied succinctly. “Listen, I still have some shopping to do, but while I’m here could I get two- no, three of those brooms?”

It took a moment for Mr. Phanos to compose himself at that. “Why, of course! Two adult-sized and one for a child, yes?”

Sirius shook his head and held Harry closer to his side. “One adult and two children this time.”

“Two children…?” Mr. Phanos questioned, his eyes picking up the gesture and tracing it down to Harry. “Goodness! I didn’t see you there, how rude of me. Welcome to Quality Quidditch Supplies, young mister…?”

“Potter,” Harry said. 

“Potter?” the man tilted his head confused.

“Harry Potter,” Sirius said, wearing a rather tight smile. 

“Oh. Well, if you’ve any questions, mister Potter don’t hesitate to ask me,” Mr. Phanos said kindly. “Though with Mr. Black around, I doubt you’ll need me!” 

Mr. Phanos grinned at Sirius before setting off to presumably ready the ordered broomsticks. An awkward silence fell around the pair and Harry’s eyes immediately bore into Sirius with a ton of new unspoken questions. 

“I’ll explain later, Harry, but we have to finish shopping first. We already started late and really it’s not a discussion to have in public like this,” Sirius said, looking down to meet his eyes. “But I will explain this, I promise.”

Harry watched him for a while longer before humming and turning his attention back to the portraits. The players had returned to their own frames, each looking delightfully worn out. 

“Alright, first of all, it is important to know about Quidditch for two reasons. One, it is the most popular sport in the Wizarding world. Anyone who is anyone has heard of it; and if you haven’t, you will either be bombarded by a fan with facts about it or be bullied by a fan for your ignorance. There is really no in between there. Second, I’m sure Prongs’ll have an aneurysm if you know nothing about his favorite sport. Guy’s honestly a hopeless fool….” Sirius sighed, but there was a fond smile playing on his lips. 

“So! There are seven players in each Quidditch team,” Sirius said, pointing to one of the moving portraits. “Three Chasers who score points for the team with the Quaffle (three of the messy players held up a soccer-sized ball for him to see), two Beaters who disrupt the other team and protect their own by hitting the flying Bludgers (one of the more burly players hit a dark, bowling ball-like sphere with a club as it flew in from a neighboring frame), a Keeper to prevent the other team from scoring (a pretty heavily padded player waved at him), and finally a Seeker who ends the game by catching the Golden Snitch (a short girl stretched her hand forward to show a small winged orb buzzing in her grip).” 

“Get all that?” Sirius asked. 

“I think so?” Harry nodded tentatively. 

“Not to worry if you do not do so entirely, when playing season comes around, people will talk about it so much that you’ll get sick of it.” Sirius reassured him, to the seemingly loud protests of the players in the portraits.

The pictures didn’t actually make noise but Harry could distinguish indignant huffing when he saw it.

“Right… So, why can they move?” Harry asked, looking at the displeased players.

“Magic?” Sirius shrugged, making Harry smile. 

The two headed for the clerk’s counter to find Mr. Phanos carefully wrapping what appeared to be the last of their broomsticks. 

“We’re heading out now, Phanos. Please have those delivered to the usual address and send the bill to Gringotts,” Sirius said.

“Yes, sir. Just need you to sign there and these beauties will be all yours.” Mr. Phanos nodded to the parchment on the desk.

Sirius picked up a quill from a pretty stand and signed his name without another thought.

“Been a pleasure seeing you, Mr. Black, young mister Potter.” Mr. Phanos smiled, pausing his wrapping to bid them goodbye. 

In the next store they purchased him some quills, ink bottles and parchment rolls, which he found odd because he thought paper was only a dozen times better. (“Is writing in these going to make me remember things better or…?”;”No, you’ll probably struggle writing on it for a while, but muggles invented paper so to ‘maintain tradition’, it’s standard for us to use parchment). 

There were some crazy quills in the store which he found interesting, but Sirius steered him away from them because they weren’t allowed in Hogwarts. Still he saw there were ones who’s feather changed depending on one’s mood, ones you could fill with several colored inks to get a rainbow effect when writing, some that lit up at the end, others that wrote exactly what you said and a few which would create a narrative from whatever prompt it was given (“What’s the point of all these if no student is allowed to have enchanted quills?”;”Never underestimate people’s conviction to take the easy way out, Prongslet. Where there’s a will, there’s a way, after all. And quills are used by most wizards, not just those attending Hogwarts”).

From the next store they got his brass scales, glass phials and a collapsible telescope. Harry felt like a pirate looking through the glass up at stars carved into the store’s ceiling. It was an old shop and all its wares seemed to be ancient and outdated items he hadn’t heard of since he was little and still snuck up to overhear Aunt Petunia reading Dudley bedtime stories. 

They headed for Madam Malkin’s Robes For All Occasions shop next, to get him fitted for his school uniform. It was exciting to be getting new, never-before-worn-by-Dudley, clothes if he was honest, even if being probed made him uncomfortable. At least, it usually did, but Madam Malkin’s touch was gentle and the quality fabrics she draped over him made him feel as though he was in a warm embrace. 

They were in a small room separated from the main boutique due to Sirius’ insistence that he get custom made robes, which he thought was excessive but Madam Malkin quickly got to making. Her hands were swift and skillful, her touch careful and gentle and her kind smiles put him at ease. 

The long black robes made him feel as though he was part of a secret society or that he was a specter of sorts. Also, with how low the hem was, he was actually surprised more wizarding folk didn’t appear to be gliding about. Thankfully for him, he had mastered walking around in baggy clothes a long time ago, so he imagined he wouldn’t be tripping over his own robes like a fool. 

Getting the school mandated uniforms was a fairly short affair but then more fabrics were brought out in all sorts of other colors. While Harry was slowly being suffocated and weighed down by all of that, Sirius was looking at some sort of catalog and talking to Madam Malkin about making the robes a little bigger to give him room to grow into, making the sleeves less wide, and something or another about embroidery. It was when the silly patterns came out that Harry finally said something and the pair left the store. 

Harry was dead on his feet until he stepped into Flourish and Blotts where he was on alert due to the high stacks of books which seemed to be itching to fall over. No one else was bothered though and Sirius explained that they were locked in place by magic so they wouldn’t be crushing them any time soon. What drew his attention next were the section names which ranged from household spells to actual curses. 

Libraries and bookstores had never really been his scene, but this was one he could certainly get behind. Harry walked around, flipping through a few books that had words which simply couldn’t be real, others which looked like they’d been scribbled by toddlers, some with funny looking diagrams and some more that appeared to be for little kids. Slowly, he made his way to the curses and anti-curses section, and while he knew he couldn’t possibly hope to cast them, imagining Dudley’s legs jellifying under him and Uncle Vernon losing his prized mustache still made reading it all that much fun.

“Oh seriously…” Sirius muttered as he plucked the book from his hands to flip through it himself. “These just get sillier everytime.”

“They do sound a little tame for ‘curses’,”Harry said, looking at other books which claimed to have spells that would make hair fly clean off the scalp or make furniture move so it’d always be in the way of a toe.

“They’re really more like mild annoyances. Nothing a ‘Finite Incantatem’ couldn’t fix.,” Sirius said, placing the book back. “Now there’s a handy spell you should learn. Little kiddies like picking up these kinds of books for fun, and while most spells have their own tailor made counterspell, a general nullifier like that one is always handy to have.”

“General nullifier?” Harry asked, following behind Sirius as he moved towards another bookshelf.

“Mm, it cancels out most spells. Though with the small caveat that you must have just as much skill with it, as the spell you’re trying to undo was cast with in the first place,” Sirius explained, running his fingertips over the books’ spines before taking one from the lot. 

“Then would those curses be easy to undo? If they were made for mischievous kids, I mean…” Harry said as Sirius collected another book. 

“Most times, yes. However, even simple spells, if performed by someone well adept with them, might require their own counters to reverse. Will and skill. Those are the very basics needed to use magic,” Sirius said wisely.

“Will?” Harry asked, helping Sirius carry a few books as the man got on a stool to take another from a high shelf. 

“If you can envision it and bring yourself to truly believe it, nearly anything is possible with magic.” Sirius elaborated, walking over to the counter with Harry on his trail. 

Harry chewed on that thought for a while, and as the sun reached its peak, they entered Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour to cool down. 

He absently noted the lights twinkling overhead as he watched ice cream scoops soar around to perfectly land on cones and bowls. Kids chatted happily around the store, some hiccuping out bubbles that burst into all sorts of shapes like mini fireworks, while others had their tongues change into different colored strips; a few snickered when one of them had their tongue turn yellow and black. 

Even the adults seemed to be having fun despite all the boisterous kids and the many bags they were hauling around. As Harry looked around the joyous place which was so full of laughter and community, he couldn’t help coming to a singular resolute conclusion. 

“Magic is awesome,” he said. 

Sirius had looked at him for a moment then before smiling in a way that almost seemed relieved. Harry was quite overwhelmed by the huge ice cream sundae he got after that. 

Last but certainly not least, they set off to get a wand. The interaction had been most peculiar however and Mr. Ollivander’s excitement at his lack of luck with wands was almost irritating. At last, he found the one that felt just right and again a sense of giddiness claimed him. 

“How curious… very curious indeed,” the old man said, gazing at him as if he was a puzzle piece he couldn’t quite place. 

“What’s curious?” Harry asked, tilting his head as his happiness seeped away a little.

“It’s just that, that is a wand with a most terrible relation. The brother of the wand which was wielded by one of the most powerful wizards of this century . A terrible, terrible wizard, but undeniably a great one,” Mr. Ollivander explained as he boxed the wand for him. “I suppose we can expect great things from you then, lad.”

Sirius bristled beside him and the two had left in a hurry after paying.

They had settled in the Leaky Cauldron after shopping and Harry was feeding his new owl. It was surprisingly friendly and simply adorable. He had always wanted a companion, and now he had that and much, much more. 

Sirius had ordered tea and was pouring himself a second cup before he silently slid a letter across the table towards him. Harry looked at it as the owl on his shoulder tried nipping at his ear. 

The envelope was old and he recognized it as the one Aunt Petunia had slammed down on the table. He looked up at Sirius who was looking at him in a professional sort of manner, with his hands laced together and settled on the table as they had been back at Number 4 Privet Drive.

Harry put his new favorite bird back into her cage with her food bowl before getting comfortable in his own seat. “Should I…?” he asked, gesturing toward the letter. 

Sirius nodded stiffly and watched him as he opened the letter and read its content: ‘Harry Potter is Lily and James Potter’s son.’

Harry flipped the page to see what else there might be, but that was it. Just his parents’ names.

Strangely enough it pulled at his heart a little. He didn’t think he’d ever heard their names before, although he was almost certain he’d known Aunt Petunia’s sister was called Lily. In a way, before reading the note, the fact that she was his mother had never quite clicked. 

He looked up at Sirius again and the man cleared his throat before speaking. 

“Harry… you aren’t an orphan. Your father he’s, he is still alive. He is who the sales clerk was talking about back at the Quidditch shop and, and you were supposed to know this, and I’m sorry I have to spring up on you like this.” Sirius said in one breath in a voice that fell the more he spoke.

Harry stared at him like a deer in headlights, his world tumbling upside down again. A full day hadn’t yet passed since he learned he had more family, he was a wizard, magic was real and apparently he wasn’t even an orphan.