Chapter 7

Once in his room Harry put his two books away with the others and settled down for his first night's sleep in a real bed. While lying there, before sleep claimed him, he reviewed his mental 'to-do' list for the next day.

Harry awoke at 5.30am the next day; the time he always had to rise in the mornings on a weekday, to make breakfast for the Dursleys. At first he was startled to realise he wasn't in his cupboard. It took a moment for him to realise he never had to go back to that place, ever again. He grinned.

Rising, he grabbed his newly purchased personal toiletries and headed for the communal bathroom. In there, he enjoyed a leisurely shower - something he'd never had at the Dursleys - and returned to his room to dress in his new 'civilian' wizarding robes. He found himself grinning the whole time. Not even his perpetual headache could dampen his mood. He did, however, hesitate before strapping his wand holster to his off forearm. It was going to take a little time for him to include it as part of his new automatic morning ritual.

He ducked downstairs to the common room and found Tom just starting to prepare for the new day. "Good morning, Tom," said a chipper Harry.

"And a good morning to you, too, Mister Smith," replied the barman. "The grill's not been warmed up yet. So, breakfast will be available from about 7.00am. If that's alright with you?"

"That'll be fine, thanks," replied Harry. "What's on the menu?"

"Standard fare, young sir," replied the old barman, turning back to what he was doing behind the bar. "Just let me know what you'd like and I'll see what I can do."

Thinking for a few moments, Harry replied, "How about - scrambled eggs on toast with a side of bacon - and - coffee?"

Nodding without looking up, Tom replied, "Can do! Would you like me to have it delivered to your room when it's ready?"

Hesitating a moment, Harry said, "Actually, that sounds like a great idea. Thanks, Tom."

"You're more than welcome," replied the old barman.

And with a sharp nod Harry ducked back upstairs.

By the time the meal was ready Harry was already deep into the book Simple Cantrips for the Beauty Conscious and had marked a few pages. He'd found a charm that would cover the scar on his forehead, one that would change the colour of his eyes, and another that changed the colour of his hair.

He was just finishing changing his hair colour and lengthening it a bit when a young witch delivered his breakfast and placed it on the small table in his room. He thanked the young lady and gave her a galleon tip for her efforts.

She was, at first, startled to seethe gold coin in her hand.

'Hey!' he thought with a smile. 'I have money now. Besides, I liked seeing the expression on her face when I gave it to her.'

After breaking his fast, Harry went back out to the Alley to take a decent look around. As he'd already collected his supplies for the upcoming school year, plus a lot of personal effects including a whole new wardrobe, this time he was just taking a wander around to see what there was to see. He also had his daily 'to-do' list to run through; but, there was no hurry at present.

First he walked through as much of the Alley as he could. Excluding those shops he'd already visited while purchasing his supplies, he stepped into each shop and memorised the layout. Some were only small and required a step through the door by a few feet and lightly peruse the shelves or racks. Others, the bigger shops, required walking further in and walking the aisles.

It was during this ambulatory sojourn he discovered a small shop up a set of stairs between two larger shops that specialised in eyewear and specialist jewellery. Ascending the stairs and entering the main floor of the shop, he was greeted by an elderly man who took one look at his glasses through his own and muttered, "No, no. That will just not do!"

Warily, Harry asked, "What do you mean?"

"Your spectacles, young sir," said the shopkeeper. "Poor quality muggle eye glasses. Not a single charm to be found."

"Errr..." replied Harry, "I take it that's a bad thing?"

"Definitely," said the shopkeeper. He then pointed to what looked like a muggle dentist's chair and said, "Go sit there. I want to have a look at your eyes."

Still wary, Harry walked across the floor and took a seat in the chair. The old man followed him over.

As soon as Harry was semi-reclined in the chair, the old man used his wand, pointed it at Harry's face and muttered "Accio muggle spectacles." The glasses whipped off Harry's face into the old man's outstretched hand.

Harry didn't even twitch in response before his glasses were gone from his face.

Trying his best to focus on what the old shopkeeper was doing, he saw the old man use some sort of chart while looking through the lenses at it. Harry couldn't read the old man's face but he heard him mutter and harrumph a bit.

Dropping the chart back onto a desk, he walked back to Harry and said, "Hold out your hand, palm up."

Harry did as instructed and the old man placed the glasses in Harry's hand. He was about to redon them when the old man put his hand out and blocked him.

"Not yet, young sir," he said gently. "Now I need to check your eyes to see how well your spectacles matched."

He then waved his wand over Harry's eyes. A slight hesitation in the wand movement and Harry heard a muttered, "Finite," before the wand was moving again. Harry felt what he could only describe as a very slight itch in the back of his eyes until the man appeared to be done."

"You can put your spectacles back on now, Mister Potter," said the shopkeeper, before he muttered, "For all the good they do."

Frowning, Harry donned his glasses and looked at the man. "I take it you had to remove my glamours to see my eyes properly?" he asked.

"Yes," replied the shopkeeper without remorse. "But, never fear, Mister Potter. I will not speak of your visit to me, today. I pride myself on my discretion," he said, before dropping the timbre of his voice. "Unlike, say, Garrick Ollivander. That man is always spouting off who his clients are, and what their wands are made of. Utterly unprofessional."

"Now," he continued, back in a light manner. "The lenses in your glasses are a very poor match for your needs. I daresay you struggle to properly focus at longer distances, correct?"

"Correct," replied Harry. "But, I've learned to - compensate."

"I daresay you have!" said the man. "However, you've come to the right place to acquire a pair, or more, better suited to your needs."

"Firstly," he said, "You can get up off that chair, for the moment, and take a wander with me amongst my shelves. Let's see if we can find a style or two you're partial to."

Harry rose from his reclined position and followed the man across to where racks of various shapes, styles and types of spectacle frames were housed.

"Take a look around, Mister Potter," he gestured, "And see if there's something that tweaks your fancy. While you do that, I'll get my folder covering the various charms you can have permanently cast on your new lenses and frames."

Harry hadn't planned on getting new glasses; but, that was only because he hadn't thought of it. Now that he was actually looking around in the shop, he found he was quite enthusiastic about the idea. He knew that he only had the ones he did because they came out of a second-hand bin at a local thrift shop in Surrey, not far from Little Whinging.

Thinking a little, he thought he could get a pair for normal wear, a pair that looked more formal - read: expensive - and a pair of sunglasses or something that would otherwise hide his distinctive eye colour. Besides, unusual spectacles could help to mask his face.

Harry only wore the aviator style he wore because that was what was given to him. Trying on a few different pairs of different shapes, he found he quite liked how a more - flatter - rectangle with rounded corners looked. He thought of those for more formal occasions with frameless lenses and silver fittings. Next, he found a more rugged pair of a similar shape with solid bronze frames.

For sunglasses he wanted something with a more ultra-modern feel. He turned to the shopkeeper and asked, "How much do you know of modern muggle styles?"

Unsurprised by the question, the shopkeeper replied with a small smile, "Reach out to the racks on which the spectacles are housed and give it a slight tug."

Turning back to the rack, Harry reached out, grabbed onto the rack, and gave it a pull. The whole rack, plus the board behind it, pulled open like a cupboard door. Behind it, Harry found what he was looking for; a whole pile of new racks with spectacles.

"Sweet!" exclaimed Harry.

Behind the front rack he found plenty of brand names from many popular to expensive brands. Pulling open other racks he finally found a whole section covering sunglasses.

His eyes were drawn to a pair that had a single, wrap-around lens; and were frameless except for the top edge, and had black arms. To him they looked like what he'd been told were Raybands, or something. He loved them at first sight.

Taking them down off the rack he turned back to the shopkeeper with a wide grin and said, "I love them."

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