3 Making Friends

Harry woke up shortly before the light began streaming over his bed. He was feeling a strange emotion, one that he hadn't experienced in a while. It took him a bit of time before he was able to place it-He was feeling excited for the future. ' Well, why not? I'm going to be with my own kind!' Looking over at the sleeping forms of his roommates, he barely was able to stifle a snort of derision. ' They're just going to be ordinary'. Harry was glad he had asked Dumbledore what time the Leaky Cauldron opened. ' Remember, if there was any useful advice Dumbledore gave me, it was get the wand first after the bank. He said it could take hours! I want time to get books and read, I need to learn more about what I've missed' . Getting out of bed in a hurry (he couldn't just ignore his bladder any longer), Harry headed to the loo. Coming out of the bathroom, he carried on wiping the sleep out of his eyes as his pondered what to wear. He didn't want to stick out too much, and all he had was muggle clothing. He remembered how Dumbledore had dressed the previous day and snorted ' I can't possibly stick out more in the wizarding world than he does in the muggle world. Someone should really tell him that those clothes were not meant to be together' . Someone should tell him, but it certainly wouldn't be Harry. He just wanted to avoid the ancient wizard at least until he had sorted out his feelings regarding the man. Whenever he thought of him his thoughts became a kind of schizophrenic tug-of war. On the one hand he detested the man for leaving him in the orphanage. On the other hand, he could logically understand what had led him to do so, and couldn't really blame him for it. Add to that the hatred for never telling him about his heritage, and the happiness that he had come to rescue him, and Harry's mind was all a great jumble. Shaking his head, Harry simply selected his old pair of jeans, the blue so faded it was almost white, and a greying t-shirt with a hole that he had received the last time the orphanage got some "new" clothes donated. ' Don't need anything else do I? I've got my vault key-oddly shaped thing it is, have a few pounds, and the directions. Time to go!'

The walk wasn't bad. It was only about a twenty minute distance, and it gave Harry time to try calm himself down. Finding the Leaky Cauldron wasn't difficult at all ' Gotta hand it to Dumbledore, he knows how to give directions'. Exactly as he had said, the muggles seemed not even to notice the small pub, their eyes flowing from the store before it to the one after it. ' They don't know at all.' Harry marvelled to himself ' they don't know that a far better world lies just through there' . He pushed open the door, strode in, and let the door close behind him.

The Leaky Cauldron was an extremely comfortable place, Harry felt immediately. Whether it was the dimly lit atmosphere, caused by the candlelit lamps floating around the room, or the casual magic occurring in it, Harry felt at home.

He walked over to the bar, which an elderly man was engrossed in wiping down, not even paying attention the glasses behind him which were cleaning themselves.

"Excuse me, sir, I was told to ask Tom to open the way to Diagon Alley for me?"

The man looked up "I'm Tom, and you must be a muggle-born right?" Harry was about to answer, although what he was going to say he wasn't sure of yet, when Tom's eyes suddenly widened, and he straightened up so suddenly Harry thought he would hear the old man's back creak.

"Merlin's beard! Can it be? Harry Potter?"

At this, the one other patron in the pub turned around from his corner table so quickly his chair creaked against the floor.

"Yes sir, my name is Harry Potter"

"Mr. Potter, I can't tell you what an honor it is to have you in my pub, we've all been waiting for you to come into our world, all the wonder about you these years-"

Harry was feeling distinctly uncomfortable. ' Goddamnit. Is this how everyone is going to react to me?'

"Thank you, sir, that's very kind. I'm honored to be here"

' He looks like he's about to faint. And that other guy doesn't seem to notice his pipe has gone out'

Harry shifted nervously "Sorry sir, but could you please show me how to get into the Alley? I have a lot of shopping to do-"

"Oh yes, of course! You're here early, usually, people only start showing up in another two or three hours"

Harry gave a nice fake laugh "Well, I wanted to avoid the crowds and get things done early…"

"Well, follow me". Harry did just that, and Tom led him out through the back door, to a small garden and a brick wall. Harry looked at Tom quizzically as he walked up to the wall and pulled out a wand.

"Now remember this -Two up, and three across" He tapped the bricks in question, and the wall opened! Harry couldn't keep the surprise off his face.

Tom gave a chuckle, "It's always great seeing the faces of young witches and wizards their first time here".

"Thank you very much, sir. Could you please point me to the bank, Gringotts I think it's called?"

"You see that large white marble building? That's Gringotts. Be polite to them, the goblins are very touchy"

' Oh no, I was planning on insulting them and their mothers. Good God, why do people think I don't have common sense?' "Thank you, sir, I'll bear that in mind".

With that, Harry walked off into the wizarding world, and Tom headed back to his pub, talking to himself "Harry Potter. What a polite young boy".

Walking up to Gringott's was an experience for Harry. The shops were all so different to anything he had ever seen before-Shops selling broomsticks, potion supplies and robes. There were restaurants, bookstores, pet stores and more. Everything was eyecatching and dazzling. The signs were changing as he watched them, the pictures moving about, and the umbrellas outside some of the cafes opening on their own. It was brilliant. Harry longed to just stop and stare, but he quashed that desire and carried on moving purposefully to the towering white building. ' I wonder what exactly goblins look like? I guess I'll see any minute now' .

As he reached the splendid bank, he did indeed see what Goblins look like. They seemed to be shorter than him, with very pointed faces, dressed impeccably in suits, and they had incredibly long fingers. They bowed to him as he walked through the large doubledoors of Gringott's. ' I could definitely get used to that. That's great customer service that is' .

The inside looked very similar to pictures Harry had seen of old muggle banks. Rows and rows of long tables, with lines of tellers working at them. Counting, weighing and measuring, it seemed exactly like an old muggle bank. Except for the small fact that none of the tellers were humans, and none of the things they were counting seemed to be pounds, or indeed any currency that Harry was aware of. He saw jewels, gems, and precious metals being weighed up, and entranced by the sight as he was, Harry was just starting to wonder who he should speak to when he heard a very cold voice coming from behind him.

"Can I help you?"

He spun around, to find a goblin standing right behind him. ' Didn't even notice him coming up there, he could have grabbed me or anything'

"I'm sorry sir, my name is Harry Potter, I wanted to make a withdrawal?"

The goblin seemed to warm up considerably at this piece of news. "Ah, Mr. Potter. Do you have your key with you?"

"Yes sir, it's right here," said Harry, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the strange, tiny key. "Sir? I had a few questions about my account if I could ask you?"

"Yes Mr. Potter, what did you wish to know?" said the goblin as he examined the key.

"Well, I was wondering what I should do about taking money out. I mean, I don't want to take all the money I'll need for the school year out right now, and I don't think I'll be able to come back in the middle of the year to make another withdrawal. I don't know if I could get a credit card or something, or how you usually do it?"

The goblin handed the key back to Harry before blinking owlishly and saying "Your key is in order. In terms of making further withdrawals when you are unable to come in yourself, The Headmaster, and once you are sorted your head of house are able to make withdrawals on your behalf. There is another branch of Gringott's located much closer to Hogwarts that they would be able to use. You just need to give them your key, and a signed letter from you saying how much you would like them to remove for you. Additionally, any adult with your key and a signed letter from you is able to make a withdrawal on your behalf. However, we take our clients security very, very seriously. To be able to access this feature, we will require you to sign a form here and now with a blood quill, and any letters given to another to make changes to your account on your behalf must be signed by you with a blood quill"

Harry took this in for a second before asking "What's a blood quill?"

The goblin seemed to take great pleasure in explaining "It is a quill that is enchanted to use the writer's blood instead of ink. If you leave us your signature, signed with a blood quill, we will be able to ascertain with almost no room for doubt that any letters coming in are indeed from you".

Harry thought about it for a few seconds. ' It sounds painful, but it could be really useful.'

"Ok sir, I'll do it"

"Excellent. Come into my office. Once this is done I will take you down to your vault".

The goblin, who introduced himself as Bloodaxe, had a very interestingly decorated office. There were swords and axes hanging from the walls, along with finely detailed tapestries.

The actual forms were surprisingly uncomplicated. From what he had read, Harry had been expecting pages and pages of fine print. ' What a surprise, even the muggle banking contracts are behind the wizarding ones'

His final signature with the Blood Quill really wasn't so bad. The pain was extremely mild, and he didn't even flinch.

"Excellent, Mr. Potter, Excellent. Let us go down to your vault now"

The trip down to his vault was-eventful. The cart hurtled and almost flew, reminding Harry of being on a rollercoaster on some trip the orphanage had taken them. Speeding through the underground tunnels on the tracks, Harry caught glimpses of wonders-a waterfall, what seemed to be a large crystal wall, and he could swear a dragon.

What the trip was over Harry stumbled out of the cart, although Bloodaxe didn't seem moved at all.

"Does everyone have to go through that whenever they want money from their vaults?" Harry asked a bit shakily.

Bloodaxe gave a deep, throaty laugh "No, no. Only when they are coming to take out artifacts and heirlooms or for their five-yearly inspections, and it is policy when someone is making their first withdrawal for them to come to the vault in question".

Having finished answering Harry's question, Bloodaxe turned to the vault door and inserting the key, opened it.

Harry gasped, blown away. When Dumbledore had said he was rich, he didn't really understand what he meant. Now though, it was beginning to click.

' I've had all this, and I've been living like an absolute pauper!'

The vault was lit up by no visible light source, but nevertheless, the piles and piles of coins glinted.

"The bronze ones are Knuts, the silver ones are sickles and the gold ones are galleons. Twenty-nine knuts to a sickle, seventeen Sickles to a galleon". Bloodaxe's voice was low, almost reverent in the presence of such large amounts of money. Harry was still lost for words. He walked through the vault, silently, looking at what was all his. Piles and piles of coins, reaching almost up to the high ceiling. Precious gems and jewelry. A sword in a sheath. Paintings and books. Locked chests. Harry was absolutely blown away.

"How much" he cleared his throat and continued "How much money is in here?"

"Approximately one point seven million galleons, excluding the value of the assorted heirlooms"

Harry took a very deep breath, "and it's all mine" he said, mostly to himself.

"Of course. Now, here is your complimentary money pouch. As your banker, I would advise you not to take too much. We will be giving you a checkbook as well"

Still shocked by his sudden change of fortune, Harry took the money pouch and began filling it up. He put in about two hundred golden galleons, and then just cut out his debate and put in two hundred of each of the other coins. 'What the hell, I've never had anything like this before' He then swept a smallish (only knee-high) pile of coins into his pouch, marveling at the seemingly small bag's ability to hold so much.

The trip back to the surface was much like the trip down, only this time Harry was lost in thought over what he should buy with his newfound riches.

' First things first, I'm getting a wand. I hope this doesn't take long'

As Bloodaxe bade him farewell, he told Harry "you can owl me with any issues. Address the owl to Bloodaxe, account manager and it will find me".

Walking down Diagon Alley towards the wand store he had noticed earlier, Harry noticed the alley was much busier than it had been when he entered the bank an hour and a half earlier. He also noticed, with growing discomfort the stares he was getting, and he kept hearing his name muttered.

He was almost running by the time he reached the wand store and barely gave a glance to its storefront before hurrying inside.

At first, Harry was unsure whether anyone was in the dimly-lit store. The walls were piled with long rectangular boxes of varying lengths, and there was a fine coat of dust on many of them.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" He called out uncertainly.

Just then, a curtain behind the counter moved aside as a man stepped through. Harry's first thought was of a stick insect, the man was so spindly and long-limbed. Then he saw the wand-makers eyes, and his thought was of some creature not of this world. He had never before seen eyes of such a grey, which looked out at the world through their spectacles with such intensity.

"Mr. Potter. I was wondering when I would see you"

"Well, I'm here, hah," Harry said nervously. This guy was really creeping him out.

"Indeed you are". The man stared at Harry for a short moment in such a way that gave Harry the impression that his very being was placed under a microscope.

"I wonder what wand will choose you. Perhaps one suited for transfiguration or charms, like your respective father and mother. Or perhaps something different entirely"

Harry wasn't quite sure what to say to that, so, wisely in his opinion, he said nothing.

"Try this", Ollivander said, swooping around the counter with feline grace and handing Harry a box that seemed to be have produced from nothing "Vine and Unicorn hair, 10 and 1 quarter inches"

Opening the box, Harry found a wand nestling on velvet. Not being quite sure what he was meant to do with it, he gave it a wave.

Immediately it was snatched from his hand by the strange proprietor.

"No, how about this one? 12 inches, Yew and dragon heartstring". But that one as well was grabbed straight away and was apparently not for Harry.

And so it went, Ollivander giving Harry wands, Harry waving them, and Ollivander taking them away when nothing happened.

As the boxes piled high, Harry started to feel anxious and afraid. Why is this taking so long? It had been at least two hours since he had begun this process. What if he could not find the wand to suit him?

At that moment, Ollivander, facing away from him, said "no need to be impatient or to feel fear. Your wand will choose you. In fact, why not try this one? Perhaps…?"

Harry took the wand box from him, took out the wand and immediately felt it.

' This one is it.' His whole arm felt warm, and he could feel energy thrumming in his hand. He gave the wand a wave and multi-colored sparks shot out of it.

Ollivander gave a little clap quite startling Harry and took the wand from him to begin wrapping it up.

"11 and a half inches. Holly and Phoenix Feather. It is a fine wand that has chosen you, Mr. Potter"

"Thank you, sir"

"But it is indeed most curious."

"What is most curious sir?"

' This man is absolutely mad. He may be the best wandmaker, but he is an absolute loon'

"I sold the wand that gave you that scar. 13 and a half inches, Yew and Phoenix Feather. What is most curious Mr. Potter is that the Phoenix that gave the feather for the Dark Lord's infamous wand, gave one more feather. It is curious that the wand that has chosen you contains the only other feather given by that Phoenix"

Harry felt a ripple run through him.

"What does that mean sir?"

"Whatever you choose it to. But we can definitely expect greatness from you. After all, the Dark Lord was great. Terrible, but great"

' Definitely mad' "Thank you for the wand sir, how much is it?"

"That will be seven Galleons"

Handing over the money, Harry said goodbye and left. Blinking in the sunlight, he resolved to never step into that shop again if he could help it. 'That man is thoroughly creepy'

Looking around at the shops near him, Harry decided to go get his robes and other school supplies before going to the bookstore. He knew himself well enough to know that he could spend hours in a Muggle bookstore, and was rightly afraid by how long he could end up sitting in Flourish and Blotts(the name of the largest bookstore he had seen) for.

Before going to get his school clothes and the rest of his shopping, Harry decided to buy himself a trunk. The trunk he chose in the luggage store was absolutely excellent. It had three compartments, was larger on the inside than on the outside, and was charmed to always remain feather light. He bought himself a backpack at the same store, a sturdy thing that would also not become heavy no matter how many books he put in it. For only fifty Galleons all together, it seemed a bargain to him. ' God I love magic'

As Harry opened the door to Madame Malkins, a bell above the door tinkled. The petite shop-keeper looked around, spotted Harry and called to him

"You for Hogwarts too dear? Come to the back, fitting another young man now in fact"

Harry walked through to the back of the store. There, behind a thin curtain, stood two small stools. One of them was occupied by a boy around Harry's size, with a mess of blond hair. Madam Malkin motioned to the stool next to the boy, and Harry stood on it.

"Hello," the boy said, "are you going to Hogwarts as well?"

"Yup" Harry replied

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice.

"Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry was left not knowing what to say, something which was happening a lot that day. Again, as in Ollivanders, he said nothing. "Do you have your own broom?" The boy asked.

"Not yet. Maybe I'll get one next year, once I've learned how to fly"

"You don't know how to fly?"

Harry was feeling uncomfortable, a feeling he was getting used to as well that day. "No, I was raised by Muggles after my parents died" Harry winced at the boy's horrified look.

"You were raised by Muggles? That's terrible! Why?" The boy was almost shouting.

"I promise you, I know just how terrible it was. As for why it's a really long story".

"Your parents were well, our lot right?" The boy asked tentatively.

"If you mean a witch and a wizard, then yes, they definitely were. In fact, I've just been to my ancestral vault in Gringotts" 'damn, it does feel good to brag'

The other boy seemed to come to some internal decision. "I'm Draco Malfoy," he said, sticking out his hand and almost hitting the women measuring him, "What's your name?"

"It's nice to meet you Draco, I'm Harry Potter".

If Harry had thought Draco was shocked before, he was not prepared for his current expression.

"You're Harry Potter?" he said incredulously?

Harry moved aside some of his hair, exposing his hated scar. "Sure am"

"And you were raised by muggles. What a travesty. Wait till father hears this"

"Do you know what house you will be in, Harry?"

"Not sure. Apparently, my parents were in Gryffindor, but from what I hear that doesn't really suit me. What about you?"

"I hope you're not a Gryffindor. I'll be a Slytherin, all my family has for generations"

"Oh, does it usually run in families?"

Draco seemed to be trying to back-track a bit here. "Not really. I mean, in some it does, in others not so much. It's much more based on who you are after all"

The boys chatted a bit, Draco telling Harry all about his ambitions to be on the Slytherin Quidditch team somehow, even if first-years weren't allowed. They paid for their robes and left the store.

"Harry?' Draco sounded very hesitant here, "What was it like, living with muggles?"

' It was fucking hell was what it was. I despise them and will rejoice every day that I don't have to see their stupid, hateful faces'

"It was bad. I grew up in an orphanage, and the other kids used to pick on me a lot. The staff there never seemed to notice or care. It got a lot worse once I started doing magic"

' Oh, why don't you tell him all about what you did then? Tell him what you did to Joseph, I'm sure he'll want to be friends with a killer. Because that's what you are Harry, a killer. You killed Joseph, and you killed Mr. Roberts too.'

' SHUT UP! I DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT THAT. I DON'T WANT TO REMEMBER THAT. JUST SHUT UP!'

' Don't you think Dumbledore knows? He spoke to Mrs. Spruce, and he seems clever. He knows you're a murderer. You killed them, Harry.'

' Shut the fuck-'

"Harry? You've just been staring into space for about a minute?" Draco seemed rather concerned. Harry felt incredibly touched.

"Sorry. It's just, I'm so much happier to be here, rather than with them you know?"

"Of course! You're with your own kind now Harry, you don't have to be with stinking muggles. They probably just hated you because they knew somehow, that you were better than them"

' He's right. I am better than them'

But that stupid voice wouldn't stop talking in his head. ' You're really better than them? None of the rest of the kids are murderers are they?'

Shaking his head and banishing his thoughts, Harry tuned in to the rest of what Draco was saying.

"And Father will definitely find a way to get you out of that horrid place".

"That sounds great Draco," Harry said, and he really meant it.

Draco was going to meet his mother at Ollivanders, and Harry was heading the opposite way, to the apothecary and then the bookstore. As they were saying their goodbyes and promising each other to meet on the train platform, a strident voice came calling:

"Draco, come. We must get you a wand"

Harry turned to the source of the voice and saw an absolutely noble looking man striding purposefully towards them. He was tall, with a pale, angular face, and neatly brushed blonde hair. He had a walking stick with a silver snake's head for a handle, and he was clearly Draco's father.

"Ah, Draco, who is your friend?" He said, and Harry got the impression that there was a sneer hidden beneath his words.

"Father, this is Harry Potter. Harry, this is my father, Lucius Malfoy"

"It's a pleasure to meet you sir," Harry said, bowing his head slightly in the manner he had seen people do on television.

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Potter. Who are you here with?"

"I came here on my own sir. The headmaster gave me directions, and well, here I am".

"But surely you have a guardian with you?"

"Dad, Harry lives in a muggle orphanage!"

Lucius looked taken aback. "Truly?" He asked, the hidden sneer curling his lip.

"Unfortunately so sir." Harry replied, wishing beyond all hope that this conversation could just end. ' Why does everyone need to know how I live?'

"I have heard horrific stories of wizards in muggle orphanages. I hope you have fared better than the others I have spoken to" Lucius' eyes were lost, as if in remembrance of a long-forgotten tale.

"I doubt I have sir, but I thank you for your concern" ' That sounds formal enough right? This seems like a man to stand on formality with'

"Well Mr. Potter, it has been a pleasure meeting you. Draco and I must finish our shopping. I am sure we shall meet again"

"Thank you, sir, I hope we shall"

"Bye Harry, see you on the train"

"Cheers Draco, see you soon".

Harry got back to the orphanage just a short time before it got dark. He made a bit of show of lugging his trunk up the stairs, grateful for the first time for everyone's indifference and hatred towards him. He was really unsure what he would say if someone tried to help him lift his trunk, only to notice that it weighed next to nothing.

Getting back into his room, he lay down on his bed, took out one of his new books and started reading. It was called Hogwarts: A History, and so far it was interesting. He wanted to know everything the average eleven-year-old wizard could about their world, and going by the books he had bought he should be able to. Scratch that, he wanted to know everything an exceptional eleven-year-old wizard could.

As he took off his glasses and closed his eyes for sleep, his mind still whirring over the mounds of new information he had picked up, he thought of Draco and Lucius Malfoy.

' Have I made a friend?' he thought to himself in wonder. ' Is that what it's like?'

He didn't even notice as his thoughts turned to nothingness and sleep claimed him.