Chapter 2
The following day, when Vernon was away at work and Petunia was busy gossiping at a tea party, Harry made his way to London, whatever money he had been used to buy himself a ticket.
After hours of traveling time, he was where the letter said the entrance to diagon alley -the magical shopping alley- was, at a small dingy pub called the leaky cauldron. Few people were inside but he managed to convince the owner to open the way to the alley for him, which was in a brick wall that melted into an archway upon the owner’s wand tip touching a specific stone.
Diagon alley was fantastic, a maze of shops and carts, with witches and wizards strewn about, conducting business. There were witches in brightly colored robes, cooing over strange creatures and elderly wizards, loudly discussing the newest edition of ‘transfiguration weekly’. Children ran around, dragging their parents with them, couples walked around, arm in arm from one store to the next. It was a majestic sight to behold for the soon-to-be Hogwarts student. Walking past these shops, Gringotts came into view, a fantastical building, high as a skyscraper carved entirely out of white marble. It stood at a crossing way, which split the alley into two, to the right further into diagon alley and to the left into a place darker and shadier.
Inside the marble construction, Goblins -small creatures with hooked noses and beady, black eyes- were everywhere, counting coins and appraising gemstones. Some held weapons in their long, frail looking fingers whilst others talked to wizards and witches, suits worn and professional voices used.
Talking up to one of the goblins he asked, “Hello? I’d like to get some money from this vault”, showing the goblin his key, which the creature promptly snatched, inspecting the metal with much scrutiny.
“Looks fine”, the goblin’s voice was like a high pitched growl that burrowed itself into Harry’s skull with intensity, “Hookbreak will take you there”
Hookbreak was another goblin in a suit, with a wicked scar running across his right eye. He wordlessly beckoned Harry to follow him, which he did without hesitation. He was led through big hallways and long corridors, till they arrived at a minecart, which -as soon as they mounted it- propelled itself forward with alarming speed. It pressed Harry into his seat in break-neck speed, through a waterfall and down and down and down, passing by Stalagmites and Stalactites aplenty, till, some time later, they slowed to a crawl, landing right in front of vault 687.
Without another word, the goblin led Harry to the vault door, beckoning him to open it.
The door was many times bigger than Harry and he found it difficult to reach the keyhole, small as he was. Once he did though, the key turned on its own accord and the door melted away, leaving only the keyhole, floating above the ground with the key still in it.
The sight which greeted him was unlike anything he’d ever seen, mountains of golden galleons, silver sickles and bronze knuts, chests filled with who knows what, swords and shields, even a family tree.
On said tree, Harry’s name was on the furthest most branch, by his parents name’s Lilly Potter nee evans and James Potter. Behind his father’s name the tree stretched out hundreds of generations wide, whilst behind his mother’s branch, there was a hazy fog, which concealed many generations, only showing a distant ancestor of ‘Hector Slytherin’, whom was branded as ‘squib’ on the tree itself. He knew not what a squib was but this discovery made him more than eager to find out, after all one of his ancestors was one or at the very least branded as one.
Taking handfuls of gold, silver and bronze into a little leather purse which he found in his vault that never seemed to get any fuller or heavier, he quickly made his way out of his vault, back to Hookbreak and into the minecart once more, which -with a deep groaning- turned itself around and sped back up and up and up above the vaults, away from the stalactites and back into the halls of marble and dark, ebony wood, where the goblins worked and conversed with wizards.
The way out of the bank was quick but the shopping that transpired was anything but. He bought books, both those he needed and those he found interesting, for this was the first time that he was free to buy as many books as he liked, to buy as many of anything as he liked and he loved it. After the books, he bought potion ingredients and other little things he needed, such as gloves of dragonhide and a telescope.
His wand was where he first struggled. Try as he might, he just couldn’t find a wand shop in the crowded alley. After many minutes of quiet struggling, he approached one of the adult wizards asking nicely, where he could buy a wand.
“There are a few shops like that”, the man -who had long, platinum blonde hair- told him, “Though I personally recommend a little known shop in knockturn alley, called Britter’s bright wands, it is the third shop to your right when you enter knockturn alley”
“Thank you sir”
Leaving the adult be, Harry walked up to Gringotts, taking a left turn and entering the much darker Knockturn alley, which seemed to swallow all of the light, both mundane and magical which had filled the much brighter diagon alley. The shop he’d been directed towards was easy to be seen, it was one of the few splashes of color in the alley, being painted a muffled green, whereas everything else was either brown, gray or black, with the occasional crimson tone.
Britter’s Bright wands was indeed the brightest place in this dark place.
Walking in, the inside was even brighter than the outside, with shades of yellow, blue and green, together with silver and bronze, it really made the inside pop out. Inside, there were two people, an old man and a young woman, “Welcome young customer”, the woman approached Harry, a great smile on her face, “looking to buy your first wand?”
“Yes ma’am”, he nodded, his eyes darting from wand to wand, which were hanging on the walls.
The old man immediately got to taking his measurements and after a while he asked, “what price range do you have”
Confused, he asked, “what are the differences?”
He had more than enough money but would there be such big differences in quality, he wondered.
“Well, for three galleons ya get the cheapest wand, they use the cheaper wand cores, less powerful. Nine will get ya get the medium wands, they use dragon heartstring mostly. 20 up’ll get ya the good stuff, with the finer cores, for 25 we erase the trace from ya wand so that ya can cast magic without the ministry getting all ruffled up”
“Uh- I’ll take one for 25 then?”
25 galleons didn’t seem all that much for him, with his newly acquired riches.
“Great”, the young woman beamed at him, taking one of the wands from the wall, “let’s try this one, Beech wood 10 inches with a manticore stinger core”
As soon as his hands touched the wand, it was taken again, “not that one”, she muttered under her breath, “then how about this one? Blackthorn wood with a horned serpent horn core, 13 ¼ inches”
The instant, his fingers graced the wand, a warmth unlike any other seeped into his being and from the wand tip, sparks of white and gold came forth.
He payed for the wand and soon was out of knockturn alley again, his faithful wand in hand and ready to begin his new life.