Diagon Alley
For the first time in his life, he imagined himself surrounded by people like him. He would no longer be the “weird” or “different” one. At Hogwarts, he would walk among wizards and witches, and he would be accepted for who he was. He wouldn’t have to hide the strange things that happened to him or endure disapproving looks. That certainty filled his chest with warmth, like a fire that could not be extinguished.
When he closed his eyes that night, Harry didn’t dream with fear but with curiosity. He saw himself in a large hall illuminated by floating candles, surrounded by boys and girls laughing and talking. He imagined himself learning spells, exploring mysterious places, and discovering new friendships. For the first time, the future didn’t seem frightening but full of possibilities.
When he woke up the next morning, the sunlight streaming through the window carried with it a promise of change. He stretched and looked around, finding in Sirius’s house a tranquility he had never known at Privet Drive. There were no screams, no Dudley making noise, no Uncle Vernon knocking to make him do some useless chore. Just peace.
Harry went downstairs with a smile, clutching the note Sirius had left him. That day, the sun seemed brighter, the air lighter. Simply being there, in Sirius’s house, away from the Dursleys’ shouting and their cruelty, made him feel... normal. But as he entered the kitchen, a thought crossed his mind, taking him back to his past birthdays.
They had been nice, as nice as they could be. Sirius had always made sure to make those days special, doing his best to give Harry what the Dursleys refused to provide. He remembered the chocolate cakes Sirius baked, sometimes a little crooked but always delicious, and the carefully chosen gifts: a small enchanted model of a flying galleon, a kit to create magical fireworks (though Sirius insisted they only use them in the garden behind the house). They were precious moments, full of warmth and laughter.
Yet, something was always missing. They were never crowded birthdays. There were no friends to invite. Harry had always watched with a tinge of envy as Dudley’s birthdays attracted dozens of neighborhood kids. Not that he wanted those rude and bullying kids around, but he wondered what it would be like to have a room full of people happy to celebrate with him. He imagined having a party with laughter, games, and shared gifts.
But Sirius, in some way, filled that void. On special days, the house would fill with familiar faces: an old school friend of Sirius and his parents, always kind and thoughtful, who brought a carefully chosen gift. There was also a cousin of Sirius who came with her husband and their teenage daughter. The girl was lively and unpredictable, always ready to make everyone laugh with her jokes and eccentric ways. Harry adored her ability to bring joy to the room; once, she made Sirius laugh so hard with one of her impressions that he almost spilled his tea on the table.
Those moments were simple but full of warmth. Harry never felt truly alone during those birthdays. Even without friends his age, he felt part of a small community, as if every person there was present to remind him he wasn’t forgotten. The laughter and stories that filled the house made him feel special, even though there was always a small void, a desire to share the day with someone his own age.
This year, however, Sirius had told him the cousin and her family wouldn’t be able to come. Harry didn’t mind. He knew Sirius would find a way to make the day unique regardless. And besides, this year there was something new: Harry had been accepted to Hogwarts. It was his first birthday as a wizarding student, and the very thought made him feel as light as a balloon. The possibility of being surrounded by people like him, making friends, and no longer being the odd one out... it was a feeling Harry didn’t even know how to describe.
As he entered the kitchen, Sirius’s smile, as warm as ever, seemed to tell him that this birthday would be different. Harry didn’t know exactly what to expect, but for the first time, he had no doubts: it would be perfect.
Sirius was sitting at the table, engrossed in reading the Daily Prophet, the wizarding newspaper, with a steaming cup of tea. He looked up and smiled broadly when he saw Harry. “Here’s our golden boy!” he said, raising the cup in a mock toast. “Happy birthday!”
Harry laughed and sat down at the table. “Thanks. It’s... strange having a birthday like this. I’m not used to it.”
Sirius observed him for a moment, then reached out to ruffle his hair. “Get used to it, kid. This is your new normal.”
As they ate and chatted, there was a knock at the door. Sirius got up with an excited expression. “Ah, perfect! I was sure he wouldn’t miss your birthday.”
Harry went to the door, and when he opened it, he was filled with a warm sense of familiarity.
“Remus!” he exclaimed with a big smile.
Harry had never had many adults to rely on in his life, but Remus Lupin was an exception. He didn’t remember exactly when he realized that the quiet, kind man was part of his life, but he knew he had always been there. Since he was little, he had seen him appear on special occasions: Christmas, Easter, New Year’s. Even though they didn’t talk much, there was something about him that made Harry feel safe, as if he knew he could count on him without needing words.
The first time he saw Remus, Harry was six years old. He had arrived at Sirius’s house on a freezing December evening, with a worn scarf wrapped around his neck and a smile that seemed to contain all the kindness in the world. Harry had watched him from behind the kitchen door, unsure whether to approach. He wasn’t used to seeing new people, and the few adults he knew, like the Dursleys, had never shown him kindness.
But Remus noticed him immediately. He knelt down, looking at him with warm, reassuring eyes. He didn’t say anything, but simply pulled a candy out of his coat pocket and handed it to him. Harry had taken it hesitantly, his heart pounding. It was one of the first times someone had offered him something without expecting anything in return.
As the years went by, Remus became a familiar figure. He appeared during holidays, always with a small gift: a picture book, a magical model that moved slightly, or even just a chocolate bar wrapped in simple paper. They were never expensive items, but Harry kept them carefully, like little treasures.
Remus was never intrusive. He spoke softly, letting Sirius fill the silence with his laughter and vibrant stories. But there was always a moment, at the end of the evening, when he would approach Harry and ask how he was. It was never a casual question; Remus truly listened, as if every word Harry said was important.
Even as a child, Harry noticed something different about him. It wasn’t just the weariness he seemed to carry on his shoulders but also the way he avoided being the center of attention, as if he preferred to be a quiet presence. Sirius once told him that Remus had been one of his parents’ best friends and part of their “inner circle” at Hogwarts. Knowing that Remus had known Lily and James created an even more special bond between them, even though Harry didn’t yet know much about their shared history.
In recent years, Remus had been a constant in the few happy holidays Harry had experienced. He was always there, with his quiet presence, gentle manners, and an air that seemed to carry both wisdom and pain.
When Remus sat at the table, Sirius got up to prepare another cup of tea. Harry watched the two men with a mix of curiosity and affection. Despite being so different, there was a deep understanding between them, a complicity Harry had come to recognize in the months spent with Sirius. That day, however, he wanted to know more. Not about books or spells, but something personal.
“What was it like?” Harry asked suddenly. “My first birthday. I mean, when I was little.”
Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance, a flicker of sadness crossing their faces. In the end, it was Remus who spoke. “Harry, your first birthday was... a special day, but also a complicated one. Your mother and father were in a safe house, hiding to protect you. Voldemort was at the height of his power, and the wizarding world was a far more dangerous place than you can imagine.”
Sirius leaned on the table, his usual smile fading. “Lily and James were determined to make that day memorable for you, despite everything. Lily baked a small cake, and James enchanted some candles to shine like stars. But... we couldn’t all be there. It was too risky. It was all... quiet.”
Harry lowered his gaze, trying to imagine those moments. There was no anger, just a sense of emptiness. It was clear that his parents had done everything they could, even in difficult circumstances, to give him a fragment of normality. And he would never know them.
“But this year is different,” Sirius interjected, with a livelier tone to break the tension. “This year, Harry, is your eleventh birthday. And it’s special for a very important reason.”
Sirius made a theatrical gesture toward a drawer, opened it, and pulled out a letter with the red Hogwarts seal, identical to the one Harry had already seen. “I took care of responding to your acceptance yesterday. I answered for you, just to make sure those Muggle fools didn’t block this one too.”
Harry chuckled lightly. “Thanks.”
“But it doesn’t end there,” Sirius continued as he settled back into his chair and opened the envelope. “The letter also contained this: a detailed list of everything you’ll need at Hogwarts. Today, we’ll spend your birthday in London.”
He placed a sheet on the table, and Harry leaned in to read it.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF MAGIC AND Witchcraft
Uniform
First-year students must have:
Three plain (black) work outfits
One plain (black) pointed day hat
One pair of protective gloves (dragon skin or similar)
A winter coat (black with silver frogs)
N.B. All pupils' clothing must be marked with a name tag.
Textbooks
All pupils must have a copy of the following texts:
Manual of Spells, Volume One, by Miranda Gadula
History of Magic, by Bathilda Bath
Theory of Magic, by Adalbert Incant
Practical Guide to Transfiguration for Beginners, by Emeric Zott
A thousand magical herbs and mushrooms, by Phyllida Spore
Infusions and Magic Potions, by Arsenius Brodus
Fantastic Animals: Where to Find Them, by Newt Scamandro
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, by Dante Tremante
Other accessories
1 magic wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set of glass or crystal test tubes
1 telescope
1 brass balance
Pupils may also bring an owl, or a cat, or a toad.
Parents are reminded that first-year pupils are not allowed to use their own broomsticks.
Harry finished reading, feeling a mix of amazement and excitement. He had never been to a magical shop before, and now he needed an entire list of incredible items. “All of this… we’ll really find it in London?” he asked, incredulous.
Remus smiled. “Not all over London. But there’s a special place where wizards find everything they need.”
Sirius nodded. “Diagon Alley. It’s an incredible place, Harry. A whole street dedicated to magic, with all kinds of shops. You’re going to love it.”
For a moment, Harry felt as though everything was a dream. A street full of magical shops where he could buy wands, spell books, and uniforms. It was all so different from the candy shop where Dudley spent his days or the noisy department stores he had always avoided. This, finally, was his world.
“So, what are we waiting for?” said Sirius, standing up enthusiastically. “It’s your birthday, Harry, and today we’re off to explore Diagon Alley.”
Harry beamed, his heart feeling light. This birthday was going to be truly special, in a way he had never imagined.
As they stepped outside, Harry found himself standing in front of Sirius’s motorbike, proudly parked in the driveway as usual. It was a vehicle he knew well, a symbol of adventures and freedom. Harry had already ridden it several times with Sirius, but each time it was an exhilarating experience. The motorbike seemed almost alive, its engine rumbling in the air like an impatient growl.
“Ready for another ride, my boy?” Sirius asked, patting the handlebars affectionately.
“Absolutely,” Harry replied, hopping on behind him. He held on to Sirius’s leather jacket, feeling the wind already tousling his hair as his godfather started the engine. The deep, familiar sound of the motor made him smile.
They set off with a firm push, gliding down country roads. Harry loved the sense of speed and freedom the motorbike gave, but it was clear Sirius had something special in mind. After a few miles, they turned onto a secluded road where the trees formed a green tunnel above them.
Sirius glanced back slightly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “You know, Harry,” he said enigmatically, “there’s something I’ve never shown you. Do you remember that dream where this motorbike was flying?”
Harry grinned. “Of course. But it wasn’t a dream, was it?”
Sirius laughed heartily. “You’ve finally figured it out.”
With a decisive motion, Sirius flipped a lever on the handlebars. The motorbike trembled slightly and, in an instant, lifted off the ground. Harry held his breath as the motorbike rose higher and higher, leaving the road behind them. The tree branches whizzed past until everything around them opened into a breathtaking panorama.
“This bike isn’t just made for the roads,” Sirius said proudly as they flew over the fields. “It’s made for the skies.”
Harry couldn’t stop smiling. Every time Sirius showed him something new from the magical world, it was like opening a door to a dream. The motorbike zoomed through the clouds, giving him a sense of freedom he had never thought possible. When they finally landed in a hidden alley near the Leaky Cauldron, Harry was still catching his breath.
Sirius stopped with a theatrical gesture, parking the bike in a quiet side alley. “Here we are,” he said, turning to Harry. “The Leaky Cauldron. A famous place, though it doesn’t look it.”
Harry followed Sirius’s gesture and found himself staring at a small pub squeezed between a bookstore and a record shop. From the outside, it looked anything but magical: the wooden door was scratched and weathered, and the windows were dull and dusty. If Sirius hadn’t pointed it out, Harry probably wouldn’t have even noticed it. In fact, he observed, none of the passersby paid it the slightest attention. People on the street distractedly glanced at the bookstore or the record shop window, as if the Leaky Cauldron didn’t exist at all.
Harry had the strange sensation that it was… invisible, or at least that only he and Sirius could see it. Before he could ask anything, a deep, gruff voice startled him.
“Ah, Sirius! Been a while, hasn’t it?”
Harry turned, and his gaze rose—and rose again. Standing before them was a giant of a man, at least twice as tall as an average person and probably just as wide. His face was almost hidden by a mane of long, wild hair and a tangled, unkempt beard, but beneath all that hair, Harry could make out two twinkling eyes, black as beetles, that gazed at him with curiosity and warmth.
“Hagrid!” exclaimed Sirius, raising an arm to greet the giant. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still at Hogwarts.”
“Well, had a few errands to run in town,” replied Hagrid in his deep voice, “and I couldn’t pass up the chance to have a look around. But who do we have here?” he added, tilting his head toward Harry. For a moment, Hagrid seemed to hold his breath, then a massive smile spread under his beard.
“Harry!” he exclaimed, his tone a mix of astonishment and emotion. Before Harry could say a word, Hagrid swept him up in a bear hug. It was like being surrounded by a giant grizzly: Harry felt completely lifted off the ground, his bones creaking slightly under the hug.
“I can’t believe it! You’ve grown so much!” said Hagrid, his voice slightly trembling. When he finally let Harry go, he wiped his eyes with a handkerchief that looked more like a tablecloth. “Last time I saw you, you were just a wee little thing,” said the giant. “You’ve got your dad’s build, but your mum’s eyes.”
Harry looked at him with a mix of confusion and curiosity. “Um, thanks,” he murmured, rubbing his ribs but smiling. Hagrid’s reaction, overwhelming as it was, felt genuine, and Harry was a little taken aback by his affection.
“Oh, sorry, lad,” said Hagrid, noticing Harry’s surprise. “I’m Rubeus Hagrid, Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts. I reckon you’re here to get your school things. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Harry nodded, immediately feeling at ease with the towering figure. Hagrid had something reassuring about him, despite his immense size.
“Well then,” said Hagrid, clapping his hands with a sound like thunder, “what are we waiting for? Let’s go in!”
Without waiting for an answer, Hagrid turned and pushed open the door of the Leaky Cauldron with a decisive shove, making the bell above the door jingle. Harry followed Sirius and Hagrid inside, feeling the warmth of the place envelop him instantly. This was a place unlike any he had ever seen before.
“Here we are, Harry,” said Sirius, opening the door to the Leaky Cauldron with a theatrical flourish. “A famous spot in our world. Get ready.”
Harry stepped inside and looked around, immediately struck by the atmosphere. For such an important place, the Leaky Cauldron was surprisingly modest. The smoke-darkened walls were decorated with moving photographs of witches and wizards raising their goblets and laughing together. In one corner, a group of elderly witches sipped sherry, while one smoked a long pipe that sent spirals of bluish smoke into the air. A man in a top hat was arguing animatedly with the bartender, an old, bald wizard whose wrinkled, shiny skin made him look like a polished walnut.
“Sirius Black… been a long time! Fancy a drink?” asked the bartender, glancing up and studying Sirius attentively.
“Not today, Tom. I’m on an important mission,” Sirius replied with a smile, gesturing to Harry. “I’m showing this young man his first real glimpse of the magical world.”
Tom immediately stopped drying glasses, his eyes widening as he stared at Harry. A sudden silence fell over the room. The other patrons, who had been chatting and laughing a moment earlier, turned toward them. Harry stiffened under all the gazes, not used to being the center of attention.
“Good heavens!” exclaimed Tom, dropping the glass he was holding. “Could it be… Harry Potter?”
The murmurs turned into a growing buzz, and a witch sitting in the corner almost dropped her pipe. All eyes were on him. Harry felt unsure, not knowing whether to smile or say something. Before he could do anything, Tom rushed out from behind the bar, advancing toward him with an incredulous expression.
“Harry Potter! It’s truly an honor, sir, a great honor to meet you.”
Before Harry could respond, others rose and moved toward him. A witch in a feathered hat shook his hand vigorously, followed by a man in a brilliant blue cloak who exclaimed, “The boy who saved us all! What an honor to shake the hand of our hero!”
Harry found himself shaking hands left and right. A woman introduced herself as Doris Crockford and couldn’t stop coming back to shake his hand. “I can’t believe it! Finally, I meet him!” she repeated, her eyes sparkling.
“Mr. Potter, an immense pleasure,” added a thin man in a top hat who introduced himself as Dedalus Diggle. When Harry vaguely recalled meeting him in a shop, Dedalus exclaimed, “He remembers! He said it! He remembers!” nearly fainting with excitement.
Hagrid, who had been standing aside until then, intervened with a genial smile. “All right, folks, let’s not take up too much of the lad’s time. We’ve got plenty to do today.”
With some effort, Sirius and Hagrid managed to guide Harry toward the back of the pub, though not before another figure emerged from the crowd. It was a thin, pale man with a nervous twitch in one eye. He wore a purple turban and radiated an air of palpable insecurity.
“Professor Quirrell!” Hagrid exclaimed enthusiastically. “Harry, this will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts. Professor Quirrell teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts.”
Quirrell approached hesitantly, extending a trembling hand toward Harry. “P-P-Potter,” he stammered, “it’s a-a p-pleasure to m-m-meet you. A great h-h-honor.” His nervous tic grew worse as he spoke, and Harry noticed how he slightly edged away from Hagrid, almost as if the giant intimidated him.
“What kind of magic do you teach, Professor?” Harry asked, trying to be polite despite the man’s obvious nervousness.
“D-Defense A-a-against the D-Dark Arts,” Quirrell replied with a forced smile. “Y-you d-don’t need t-to w-worry a-about that yet… eh… but I s-suppose you’ll be stocking up on e-everything you n-need.” He stuttered so much it seemed like he was battling with the words. “I-I need t-to get a b-book on v-vampires.”
Hagrid shook his head with an amused look as Quirrell quickly walked away. “Poor fella,” he murmured. “He was fine until he went traveling. They say he met vampires in the Black Forest and… well, had a bad run-in with a witch. He’s not been the same since.”
Harry didn’t know what to say. Vampires? Witches? It was all so surreal. But before he could ask anything more, Sirius and Hagrid guided him toward a door at the back.
In the courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron, Hagrid pulled out his enormous, bright pink umbrella. “Now, watch closely, lad. This is how you get into Diagon Alley.”
With three firm taps on a specific brick, the wall trembled, vibrated, and then began to slide away, brick by brick. Harry held his breath as a wide archway formed before them, revealing a cobbled street full of curves and colors. Sunlight gleamed on animated signs and windows packed with magical items.
“Welcome to Diagon Alley,” Sirius said with a smile.
Harry stepped through the archway, his heart pounding. Diagon Alley was incredible: shops filled with enchanted books, wands, telescopes, and cauldrons. Harry couldn’t stop looking around.
Hagrid gave him a hearty pat on the back. “I say we start at Gringotts. I’ve got a task to do for Hogwarts, and you’ll need to withdraw your money.”
“Money?” Harry asked, turning to Sirius.
“Of course,” Sirius replied. “Your mum and dad left you everything you’ll need. You’ll see.”
Harry felt a mix of relief and gratitude. For the first time, he understood that he wasn’t just a guest or a burden: he had his own inheritance, a connection to his parents that was entirely his. It was just the beginning of a day that promised to change everything.
Hagrid led the group down the cobbled street, weaving through the wizards and witches bustling around Diagon Alley. Harry, enchanted by the commotion and the colorful signs, struggled to keep up with the giant’s stride, while Sirius walked beside him, looking relaxed. Every shop seemed like a little wonder: stacks of sparkling books behind windows, gleaming telescopes, and cauldrons of every size and material displayed outside the stores.
“There it is, lad,” said Hagrid, pointing to an imposing white building. “That’s Gringotts, the wizarding bank. There’s no safer place… well, maybe only Hogwarts.”
Harry looked up, awed by the sight. The building towered majestically, its white marble façade reflecting the sunlight. Marble steps led up to a grand golden door, guarded by two short, thin creatures: goblins.
Hagrid guided the group toward Gringotts, which stood like a marble bastion in the heart of Diagon Alley. Harry marveled at the grand architecture and the two goblins guarding the entrance. They were short, thin creatures with sharp features and piercing eyes that seemed to look right through him.
“Welcome to Gringotts, the wizarding bank,” said Sirius with a smile. “There’s no safer place in the world… well, at least until Dumbledore shows up.”
Hagrid chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, Dumbledore and his knack for surprises… But here, we’re in good hands.”
They entered the main hall, and Harry’s jaw dropped. The interior was vast and bright, with towering ceilings supported by polished marble columns. Along the sides of the hall were long wooden counters, behind which goblins were busy writing in enormous ledgers, counting glittering coins, and weighing gemstones on golden scales.
Hagrid approached a counter confidently. “Good morning,” he said with a nod to the goblin seated there. “We’re here to access Mr. Potter’s vault. And… I’ve got Hogwarts business to attend to as well.”
The goblin looked up with sharp eyes, studying Hagrid for a moment before replying in a monotone voice, “Certainly. The key, please.”
Sirius approached the counter and rummaging through his pockets pulled out a small golden key, which the goblin took delicately to examine. Then he nodded, returning it to Sirius while looking Hagrid. “Follow me,” he said, hopping down from his stool and gesturing for the group to follow.
The goblin led them down a corridor that extended deep into the heart of the bank. At the end of the path, they stopped at a platform where a small metal cart awaited on tracks. Harry looked at it with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
“Climb aboard, lad,” Sirius said, helping him into the cart. “You’ll see, it’s like a roller coaster… with less safety.”
Hagrid climbed in last, filling nearly half the cart with his massive frame. The goblin took the controls, pulling a lever, and the cart lurched forward. Harry held his breath as the vehicle raced through dark tunnels, navigating sharp turns and steep drops. The wind tousled his hair, and the wheels screeched on the tracks like a runaway train.
“It’s like your motorbike, Sirius!” Harry shouted over the noise.
“Only much less elegant,” Sirius replied with a laugh.
Finally, the cart came to an abrupt stop in front of a massive door decorated with intricate carvings and golden handles. The goblin nimbly jumped off and approached the door, inserting the golden key into the lock. With a sound of stone grinding against stone, the door slowly creaked open.
“Welcome to your vault, Harry,” Sirius said with a proud smile.
Harry stepped inside and gasped. Stacks of gleaming gold, silver, and bronze coins rose before him like small mountains of wealth. He couldn’t believe his eyes.
“All of this is mine?” he asked incredulously, turning to Sirius.
“Yes, lad,” Sirius replied. “Your mum and dad worked hard to make sure you’d always have what you needed. Don’t feel embarrassed. This is yours.”
Harry took a handful of gold galleons, their weight surprisingly reassuring in his hands. It was hard to believe all this had been left for him. For his whole life, he had thought he had nothing. Now, for the first time, he felt he owned something real, something that connected him to his parents.
As Harry collected the coins he needed into a small leather pouch, Hagrid approached another vault. He pulled out a small bag from under his cloak and handed it to the goblin.
“Hogwarts business,” he said mysteriously.
“Ah, always a pleasure to handle Dumbledore’s affairs,” the goblin remarked with a sly smile. “A truly unique man.”
“Absolutely,” Sirius added with a laugh. “And let’s not forget his talent for turning problems into ‘opportunities for growth.’”
Hagrid chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t say that where he can hear you. It’s like he knows, even when he’s not there.”
After completing their transactions, the group climbed back into the cart, which whisked them back through the tunnels at the same breakneck speed. When they emerged into the sunlight of Diagon Alley, Harry’s heart was still racing, but it was a mix of excitement and gratitude.
With the pouch full of jingling coins at his side, Harry felt ready to explore everything Diagon Alley had to offer. With Hagrid and Sirius by his side, he knew nothing could ruin this special day.
After the whirlwind at Gringotts, the group returned to the bustling Diagon Alley. Sirius glanced around enthusiastically. “Well, time to fill those bags, my boy. We’ve got a long list and not much time.”
Remus joined them just then, carrying a small package under his arm. “Sorry for the delay. A couple of rare books distracted me,” he said with a smile. “Ready, Harry? This is the moment when a young wizard truly begins to step into his world.”
Hagrid, meanwhile, excused himself temporarily. “I’ve got a few more errands to run for Hogwarts,” he explained, giving Harry a friendly pat. “But I’ll catch up with you soon.”
Their first stop was Madam McClain’s tailoring shop. Harry was captivated by the window display, filled with neatly hung school uniforms, each accompanied by refined details. Sirius and Remus decided to leave him there while they headed to Flourish and Blotts.
“We’ll get your parchment, quills, and ink,” Sirius said with a grin. “A good wizard needs good tools. Trust us.”
Harry nodded, watching them disappear into the crowd before stepping into the shop. The interior was cozy but crowded, with magical fabrics floating above the shelves and enchanted mannequins adjusting themselves.
Harry entered Madam McClain’s tailoring shop, a small but welcoming place filled with rolls of fabric floating magically and mannequins moving on their own. The seamstress, a gray-haired woman with her hair tied in a bun, greeted him warmly.
“Hogwarts, dear?” she asked as soon as Harry started to speak. “I have everything you need. Come along, come along, there’s another young man trying on his uniform in the back.”
In the back of the shop, Harry found a pale, pointed-faced boy standing on a stool. A witch was carefully pinning the hem of his black robe as he watched the process with a bored expression. Madam McClain had Harry step onto a nearby stool and slipped a long robe over his head, beginning to adjust it to his height.
“Hello,” the boy said, his tone hovering between detached and curious. “Are you going to Hogwarts too?”
“Yes,” Harry replied, trying to decide whether or not he liked this boy.
“My father’s next door buying my books,” the boy continued. “And my mother’s looking at wands further up the street. Afterward, I’m going to drag them to look at racing brooms. I don’t understand why first years aren’t allowed to have one. I think I’ll make my father buy me one anyway. I’ll sneak it in.”
Harry listened but couldn’t bring himself to like that arrogant tone. It reminded him of Dudley, always ready to boast about what he had or what he wanted to get.
“Do you have your own broomstick?” the boy asked.
“No,” Harry replied calmly.
“But do you know how to play Quidditch?” the boy pressed.
“I’ve never had the chance, but I follow the Quidditch League,” Harry said, trying to sound friendly. But the boy seemed to ignore his response.
“I do. My father says it would be a crime if I weren’t chosen for my house team. And I agree. Do you know which house you’ll be in?”
“No,” Harry admitted, starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Well, no one does until they’re there,” the boy said with a superior air. “But I already know I’ll be in Slytherin. My whole family has been. Imagine the horror of ending up in Hufflepuff! I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”
Harry replied, trying to hide his irritation. “I know someone who graduated from Hufflepuff this year... it’s not that bad.”
The boy raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. Then his gaze shifted to the shop window, and he nodded toward it. “Look at that. What is he wearing?”
Harry followed his gaze and saw Sirius standing outside the shop window, smiling. He was holding two giant ice creams and waving to Harry, as if to signal that he was waiting for him outside.
“That’s Sirius,” Harry said proudly. “My godfather.”
“Really?” the boy replied with a slight smirk. “But why are you with him? Where are your parents?”
“They’re dead,” Harry said shortly, not wanting to elaborate.
“Oh, sorry,” the boy said, though without any real remorse. “But were they like us?”
“They were a witch and a wizard, if that’s what you mean,” Harry replied, trying to stay calm.
“Yeah. I think they shouldn’t let the... others attend,” the boy said with a sneer. “They’re not like us. Imagine, some don’t even know what Hogwarts is when they get their letter. I think only pure-blood families should be allowed in. What’s your last name?”
Before Harry could answer, Madam McClain intervened. “All done, dear,” she said, finishing the last adjustments.
Harry stepped down from the stool, happy to have an excuse to end the conversation. “Well, I guess I’ll see you at Hogwarts,” the boy said in his usual bored tone.
Once outside, Harry told Sirius everything, who handed him one of the ice creams and listened attentively. “He seemed pretty full of himself,” Harry concluded.
Sirius smiled, shaking his head. “What did he look like?”
“Blond, with a pale, pointed face,” Harry replied.
“Ah, now it all makes sense... the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Sirius said sarcastically. “Looks like they’ve succeeded in brainwashing him,” he added, glancing at Remus.
Remus, who had returned with a bag full of high-quality parchment and quills, added, “Some wizarding families believe they’re superior because they can claim pure-blooded heritage. It’s an old idea with no merit, but unfortunately, some still cling to it. Don’t worry, Harry. Not everyone at Hogwarts is like that.”
Harry nodded, trying to forget the encounter. “He was just… strange. But I’m glad Sirius was there outside the window.”
Sirius smiled, patting him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, my boy. People like him make fools of themselves. Now, let’s go get your wand. It’s time for a more exciting experience!”
And with that, they left Madam McClain’s behind, ready for the next stop.
After purchasing a shiny set of scales, a collapsible telescope, and some potion ingredients, Sirius, Remus, and Harry headed to the last stop of the day: Ollivanders - Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.
“I can’t wait to see you with your wand, Harry,” Sirius said, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “A well-chosen wand is like a lifelong companion. And trust me, Ollivander is the best.”
The shop was narrow, dusty, and incredibly quiet. On a faded purple cushion in the window rested a single wand, simple but intriguing. Harry immediately felt a peculiar energy in the air, as if every box on the shelves contained something alive.
As they entered, a faint chime greeted their arrival. An elderly man with silver, penetrating eyes appeared almost immediately, moving toward them as though he had been expecting them.
“Sirius Black... Remus Lupin...” said Mr. Ollivander with an enigmatic smile. “It’s been a while. I trust your wands are still serving you well?”
Sirius nodded, pulling out his wand and displaying the smooth wood.
“Dogwood, eleven and a half inches, phoenix feather core,” Ollivander said softly, almost nostalgically. “Ah, a bold wand, spirited, but loyal. Perfect for a wizard who faces challenges head-on.”
Then he looked at Remus, who calmly showed his wand.
“Cypress, ten inches, unicorn hair core,” Ollivander continued. “Elegant and dependable. A wand that belongs to one who lives with nobility and sacrifice. It’s rare for cypress to choose someone without a profound reason.”
Remus nodded with a smile. “It’s never let me down.”
Ollivander then turned all his attention to Harry, who felt almost pierced by the man’s gaze. “And you, Mr. Potter. It’s time for you to find your match.”
Ollivander began measuring Harry with a magical tape measure that seemed to do everything on its own, muttering to himself as he worked.
“Every wand I make is unique, Mr. Potter. We use only the most powerful magical substances: unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, and phoenix feather. Each wand has a different soul, and no two are alike, just as no two wizards are identical.”
As he spoke, he moved quickly between the shelves, pulling out boxes and opening lids with precise movements. Harry tried several wands, but none seemed to respond as expected. Some emitted sparks that were too wild, while others remained inert.
“A tricky customer,” Ollivander murmured with an almost excited smile. “But no matter. We’ll find the right one.”
Finally, he pulled a box from a high shelf and opened it carefully. “Let’s try this one. Holly and phoenix feather. Eleven inches, supple.”
Harry took the wand, and immediately felt a warmth spread through his hand. He raised it above his head, and a trail of red and gold sparks illuminated the room like a small firework. He felt that this wand was perfect, like an extension of his own body.
“Ah,” said Ollivander, with a serious expression. “Very interesting. Very interesting indeed.”
Harry looked at him, confused. “What’s interesting?”
“The feather in this wand comes from a phoenix,” Ollivander explained. “And that same phoenix gave only one other feather. The wand containing that feather… is Voldemort’s wand.”
Harry swallowed, feeling a chill run down his spine. “Voldemort’s?” he asked in a faint voice.
“Yes,” Ollivander replied, his eyes glinting in the dim light. “Thirteen and a half inches, yew wood. A powerful wand, terrible in the wrong hands. But remember, Mr. Potter: the wand chooses the wizard. And while connections can be curious, it does not mean you are destined to follow the same path.”
Sirius placed a reassuring hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, kid. A wand is just a tool. It’s the wizard who decides how to use it.”
“Very true,” Ollivander agreed, nodding. “And I expect great things from you, Mr. Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things as well… terrible, yes, but great.”
Harry left Ollivander’s shop clutching his new wand, still wrapped in its paper. He couldn’t stop thinking about what Ollivander had said, and the idea of having a “twin” wand to Voldemort’s left him uneasy. Sirius and Remus walked beside him, making cheerful comments about other wizards who had bought wands from Ollivander in the past.
“So,” Sirius said, breaking the silence, “now you’re armed. Ready to face anything, aren’t you, my boy?”
Harry didn’t answer immediately but gave a small smile. Despite his worries, he felt that this wand was his, and his alone.
At that moment, Hagrid rejoined them, carrying a large cage. Inside, a snowy white owl perched on a stand, its eyes closed. “Hey, Harry,” he said with a beaming smile. “Couldn’t let you go without a birthday gift. Happy birthday, lad.”
Harry was speechless, staring at the beautiful animal. “An owl? It’s... it’s amazing. Thank you, Hagrid!” he stammered, overwhelmed. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The owl was the perfect gift.
“Ah, nothing special,” Hagrid said modestly but clearly pleased. “Owls are handy. She’ll help you send letters. Picked her out just for you.”
It was late afternoon, and the sun was slowly setting on the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and gold. The four of them made their way back, retracing their steps through Diagon Alley. Harry carefully held the owl’s cage, glancing at her occasionally in wonder, while Hagrid walked ahead with heavy steps, and Sirius and Remus animatedly discussed an old prank from their Hogwarts days.
Harry didn’t say a word the entire way. They passed through the magical archway that brought them back to the courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron and then entered the now nearly empty pub.
“We’ve got time for a bite before heading home,” Sirius said, patting Harry on the shoulder. Hagrid gave Harry a massive pat on the back that nearly knocked him over. “Take care, lad,” the giant said with a grin before heading off.
Sirius and Remus led Harry to a nearby Muggle pub. They sat in a quiet corner and ordered burgers and fries. As they ate, Harry kept looking around, as though seeing the world from a new perspective.
“You okay, Harry? You’ve been awfully quiet,” Sirius asked, giving him a curious look.
Harry hesitated, staring at his plate. He wasn’t sure how to explain how he felt. The day had been incredible—the best birthday of his life. And yet, something still troubled him.
Finally, he found the words. “Everyone thinks I’m special,” he said in a low voice. “The people in the Leaky Cauldron, Mr. Ollivander... they think I can do great things. But I don’t know anything about magic. I’m famous, but I don’t even remember why. I don’t know what happened when Vold…” he hesitated, then continued, “… when he killed my parents.”
Remus leaned slightly toward him, his face serious but kind. “Harry,” he said calmly, “it’s normal to feel overwhelmed. But no one is born knowing everything. No one expects you to already know how to do magic or understand everything that happened. Hogwarts will be the place where you discover who you truly are. And trust me, you don’t have to be special to learn. You just have to be yourself.”
“And as for why you’re famous,” Sirius added with a smile, “well, don’t let it weigh on you. You didn’t ask for this fame, and you don’t have to live it as a burden. We’re here to help you, always.”
Harry nodded slowly, feeling a bit more at ease. He continued eating his burger, letting Sirius and Remus’s words sink in. Perhaps he wasn’t sure yet what lay ahead, but at least he knew he wasn’t alone.
As they prepared to head home, Sirius placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Today was just the first step, my boy. There are plenty of adventures waiting for you, and you’ll face them with the courage you’ve already shown. And remember: your place isn’t just in the magical world, but also in the hearts of those who care about you.”
Harry felt lighter. Maybe his journey wasn’t clear yet, but that day had already given him a glimpse of what it meant to find his place.