Chapter 5
The next morning, Professor Quirrell and young Harry got up early to avoid the crowds when going out to buy the rest of what was left on the list. They needed to get his wand, some ingredients for potions, many other books his teacher promised to get him, and an animal companion if the raven so desires. It was quite a busy day, many other kids outside playing, and parents talking with each other, a soft breeze soothing the hot weather. The smell of the shops and their colors were mesmerising to the raven, a sense of déjà vu feeling his senses everytime he breathed in or saw something, with the unfortunate side effect of a mild headache.
It's bustling with life. It's bustling with corpses.
"Where to first?" Asked Harry after blinking away the images.
"Flourish and Blotts is were you usually get your textbooks but I have a better shop in mind. A place you'll get other books from different parts of the world." Quirrell indicated for him to follow and not stop to watch the shops, wanting to avoid any attention. His answer didn't help Harry.
"Books about what?" Harry run towards him and stayed close to his teacher/guide.
"Magic." Was all the other said.
The shop in question is called Libraria with a drawing of scales held in the mouth of the head of a Wolf. Odd. The building itself didn't seem much, similar to the rest.
Entering inside, however, was like entering a fairy tale book. Or a cathedral. It was big, that's Harry's first thought. Big and spacious, surprising him when their footsteps didn't echo. Looking up, he saw there were many windows letting in outside light on each one of the walls. Each of them had stained glass with different colors and images, causing a soft colorful explosion for the eyes of the young wizard. The floors were whiteish with strange gold patterns on them that stretched from one side of the building to the other. In what Harry would consider the middle, he saw a circle with those same patterns and many more that he couldn't recognise, golden lines connected to it. It's beautiful.
His awe didn't stop there. The bookshelves, in light brownish color, were put neatly against the walls and some in the middle, some taller, some longer. There were rolling ladders sliding from one shelf to the other at people's command, books flying over his head. Despite all of that, the place remained completely silent. Quirrell tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at another side of the, honestly, giant library. Bigger than... what? Is there any place that could be compared to this one? Harry had a hard time believing that.
As promised, Quirrell got him many other books to help him integrate into this new culture, learn about rituals, know basic information about the Old Families and everything that it entails.
After seeing all of that, all he could do is wonder: why didn't Hogwarts put these books into their list if they could help them?
It took them a couple of hours to find everything they needed and finish their shopping, leaving only his wand and a pet. Well, they also had to make another stop.
"In here." Quirrell said, coming to a halt. It looked darker than any other shopping, pristine and very cold inside. They were in the farthest side of Knockturn Alley. It was giving him a headache, a skeletal hand reaching at his, not letting go.
"Welcome." Greeted an odd looking woman, her voice a soft whisper. Her lips were bright red, dark long curly hair falling in front of her pale eyes. She looked first at his teacher before looking at him. Harry stood tense next to Quirrell, not liking the feeling of something cold touching him. He's certain it comes from the woman in front of them. Her magic, perhaps? "What can I help you with?" She said after long seconds of their starring contest, stopped only by Quirrell's body positioning himself in front of the boy.
"You know what I'm here for." Her expression turned sour but nodded, moving to another part of the shop.
It smells awful, and he could see his own breathing at the coldness. His fingers were starting to get blue. Looking at his teacher, Harry stayed put no matter how much he wishes he could move to get some warmth into his limbs. Or to just get out. In a shaky breath, his green eyes went back to the woman who had a small package in her palid hands. There's something off about her and why does she keep looking at him? Harry started to freak out, freezing in the spot.
"That's enough staring." Quirrell's commanding voice finally got her eyes off of him to his relief. "How much?"
She didn't say anything, clicking her long fingernail against the front desk, pointing at some numbers written on it. Quirrell gave her the needed gold and turned to leave, taking Harry by his shoulder to make him move. The warmth of his body managed to calm the young wizard.
"Are you alright?"
"Yeah... Yes. Just a bit cold." His reply was slow and unclear, his mind elsewhere. "She smells like death." He whispered without realising, oblivious to his teacher's reaction at his words.
"Let's take a break." He said.