"'All students must be equipped with... one standard size two pewter cauldron.... and may bring, if they desire, either an owl, a cat or a toad.'" Harry read out from the second piece of paper from his letter as he and Hagrid walked through London. "Can we find all this in London?"

"If you know where to go." Hagrid replied.

Harry had never been to London before. While Hagrid appeared to be familiar with the city, he clearly wasn't accustomed to traveling in an ordinary way. He got stuck in the ticket barrier on the Underground and grumbled loudly about the small seats and slow trains.

Hagrid was so huge that he parted the crowd easily, with Harry following closely behind. They walked past book shops, music stores, hamburger bars, and cinemas, but none of them seemed like they could sell a magic wand. It was just a regular street bustling with ordinary people.

Could there actually be piles of wizard gold buried miles beneath them? Were there truly shops that sold spell books and broomsticks? Could this all be some elaborate joke concocted by the Dursleys? If Harry hadn't been aware that the Dursleys lacked a sense of humour, he might have considered it; however, despite the incredibility of everything Hagrid had shared with him, Harry could help but trust him.

Harry followed Hagrid to a small, dingy pub. It was so inconspicuous that Harry wouldn't have noticed it if Hagrid hadn't pointed it out. The people hurrying by it didn't glance at it, their eyes moving from the large bookshop on one side to the record shop on the other, as if the Leaky Cauldron didn't exist.

Harry had a sentence sensation that only he and Hagrid could see the pub. Before he could mention this, Hagrid led him inside.

It was a dark and shabby place for a famous spot. A few elderly women sat in a corner, sipping tiny glasses of sherry. One of them were smoking a long pipe. A small man in a top hat conversed with the old bald barman, who resembled a gummy walnut.

The low murmur of conversation ceased as they entered. Hagrid was recognized bye everyone; they greeted him with waves and smiles.

"Ah, Hagrid! The usual, I presume?" The barman said, reaching for a glass.

"No, thanks, Tom. I'm on official Hogwarts business." Hagrid replied, clapping his large hand on Harry's shoulder, causing his knees to buckle. "Just helping young Harry buy his school supplies."

"Bless my soul." The barman whispered. "It's Harry Potter!"

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter. Welcome back." A wizard greeted, shaking Harry's hand.

Harry was at a loss for words. All eyes were on him. The old woman, who was puffing on a pipe, seemed unaware that it had gone out. Hagrid had a big smile on his face.

Suddenly, there was a loud scraping of chairs, and before he knew it, Harry was shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford. I can't believe I'm meeting you at last."

"Harry Potter. Can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you." A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously.

"Hello, professor. I didn't see you there." Hagrid said with a smile. "Harry this is Professor Quirrell. He'll be your Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"Oh, nice to meet you." Harry said, extending his hand to Professor Qurirrell.

Professor Quirrell glanced at his hand with disgust. "Fearfully fascinating subject. N-N-Not that you need it, eh, Potter?"

"Yes, well, must be going now. Lots to buy." Hagrid said as he led Harry through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but barrels. "See, Harry? You're famous."

"But why am I famous, Hagrid? All those people, how is it they know who I am?" Harry asked.

"I'm not sure I'm the right person to tell you that." Hagrid replied before tapping the brick wall three times with the point of his umbrella. The bricks he touched quivered, then wriggled, and in the middle, a small hole appeared. It grew wider and wider until a second later, they were facing an archway large enough for Hagrid, leading onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight. "Welcome, Harry, to Diagon Alley."

Hagrid grinned as Harry looked amazed. They walked through the archway, and Harry looked quickly over his shoulder to see it instantly turn back into a solid wall. The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the closest shop. A sign above them read, 'Cauldrons - All sizes - Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver - Self-Stirring - Collapsible'

"Here, you get your quills and ink. Over there, all your bits and bobs for doing wizardry." Hagrid explained as they strolled down the alley.

As they walked up the street, Harry turned his head in ever direction, trying to take in everything at once: the shops, the items displayed outside, and the people doing their shopping.

Several boys around Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window showcasing broomsticks.

"Look at it!" Harry overheard one of them exclaim. "The new Nimbus 2000! It's the fastest model yet."

There were shops selling robes, telescopes and strange silver instruments that Harry had never seen before. Windows were filled with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, stacks of spell books, quills, rolls of parchment, potion bottles, and globes of the moon.

"But Hagrid, how am I to pay for all of this? I haven't got any money." Harry wondered.

"Well, there's your money, Harry. Gringotts, the wizard bank." Hagrid replied, pointing to a snowy-white building that towered over the other small shops. "Ain't no safe place, not one. Except perhaps Hogwarts."

As they entered a vast marble hall, Harry saw about a hundred goblins sitting on high stools behind a long counter. They were busy scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins on brass scales, and examining precious stones through eyeglasses.

"Hagrid, what exactly are these things?" Harry inquired.

"They're goblins, Harry. Clever as they come, but not the most friendly of beasts. Best stay close." Hagrid advised as they approached the counter where a goblin was seated. "Mr. Harry Potter wishes to make a withdrawal."

The goblin leaned over the counter to stare at Harry. "And does Mr. Harry Potter have his key?"

"Wait a minute. Got it here somewhere." Hagrid said as he began searching through his pockets. After a moment, he held up a tiny golden key. "Ha! There's the little devil. And there's something else as well. Professor Dumbledore gave me this." He then pulled out a letter from his coat and handed it to the goblin. "It's about You-Know-What in vault you-know-which."

"Very well." The goblin replied, handing the letter back to Hagrid.

As Harry and Hagrid were led by another goblin, they found themselves in a narrow stone passageway illuminated by flaming torches. The passage sloped steeply downwards, with small railway tracks running along the floor.

The goblin whistled, and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks towards them. They climbed in, with Hagrid struggling a bit, and the cart took off.

At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry attempted to recall the directions, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart appeared to know the way on its own as the goblin wasn't steering.

Harry's eyes stung from the cold air rushing past them, but he kept them wide open. He looked quite green when the cart finally stopped beside a small door in the wall.

"Vault 687." The goblin announced. Hagrid got out followed by Harry as the goblin opened the door.

Harry's eyes widened, and he gasped. Inside were piles of gold coins, columns of silver, and heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"Didn't think your Mum and Dad would leave you with nothing, did ya?" Hagrid said to Harry..

They were now going even deeper now to another vault. Vault seven hundred and thirteen. Harry looked and noticed that it didn't have a keyhole.

"Vault 713." The goblin announced.

"What's in there, Hagrid?" Harry wondered.

"Can't tell you, Harry. Hogwarts business. Very secret." Hagrid replied as the goblin ran his long finger down the vault door, opening it. Harry narrowed his eyes when he saw a small package inside with a light shining on top of it. Hagrid walked into the vault, grabbed the package and placed it in his pocket. "Best not to mention this to anyone."

••••

After purchasing a few items from the list, Harry and Hagrid exited the shop with their hands full of books. Harry took out his list and started going through it.

"I still need a wand." Harry mentioned to Hagrid.

"A wand? You want Ollivanders. There ain't no place better." Hagrid said, pointing to a narrow and worn-out shop. Faded gold letters above the door read 'Ollivanders: Makes of fine wands since 382 BC.' "Why don't you run along there and wait. I got one more thing to do."

A tinkling bell chimed from somewhere in the depths of the shop as Harry walked inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair. He felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library. He looked at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling.

Setting down his books and packages, his made his way towards the counter.

"Hello?" Harry called out awkwardly. "Hello?"

A thud was heard from above, causing Harry to jump. He looked up to see an old man on a ladder, peering down at him with a smirk.

"I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Mr. Potter. It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands." Mr. Ollivander said as he moved around the shelves, retrieving a box and handing it to Harry. Harry took the wand from the box. "Give it a wave."

Harry waved the wand, causing stacks of boxes to fly off the shelves. Quickly, he placed the wand back on the counter with care.

"Apparently not." Mr. Ollivander muttered before climbing up the ladder, grabbing another wand, and passing it to Harry. "Perhaps... this."

Harry waved the wand, causing the pot on the counter to smash, making him jump.

"No, no, definitely not. No matter." Mr. Ollivander said as he walked down the aisle, picked up another wand and paused for a moment. "I wonder..." He then approached Harry and handed him the wand. As Harry took it, he felt a sudden warmth in his fingers, and a gust of wind blew around the room. Mr. Ollivander looked around with suspicion. "Curious. Very curious."

"Sorry, but what's curious?" Harry wondered.

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather resides in your wand, gave another feather. Just one other. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand... when its brother gave you that scar." Mr. Ollivander explained.

Harry swallowed. "And who owned that wand?"

"We do not speak his name. The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. It's not always clear why. But I think it is clear... that we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named... did great things. Terrible, yes but great." Mr. Ollivander said before walking back into the store.

"Harry! Harry!" Hagrid's voice called out as he tapped on the window. Harry turned around and his eyes widened when he saw Hagrid holding a snow-white owl in a cage. "Happy Birthday."

••••

The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harry and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Harry didn't speak at all as they had lunch at a table.

"You all right, Harry? You seem very quiet." Hagrid said.

"He killed my parents, didn't he? The one who gave me this?" Harry asked, pointing to his lightning bolt scar on his forehead. "I know, Hagrid. I know you do."

Hagrid sighed. "First, and understand this because it's very important: Not all wizards are good. Some of them go bad. A few years ago... there was one wizard who went as bad as you can go. His name was V--. His name was V--"

"Maybe if you wrote it down?" Harry suggested.

"No, I can't spell it." Hagrid muttered. "All right, Voldemort."

"Voldemort?"

"It was dark times, Harry, dark times. Voldemort started to gather some followers. Brought them over to the Dark Side. Anyone that stood up to him ended up dead. Your parents fought against him. But nobody lived once he decided to kill them. Nobody, not once. Except you." Hagrid explained.

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Me? Voldemort tried to kill me?"

Hagrid nodded. "Yes. That ain't no ordinary cut on your forehead, Harry. A mark like that only comes from being touched by a curse, an evil curse."

"What happened to V--? To You-Know-Who?" Harry wondered.

"Well, some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Nope, I reckon he's out there still... too tired to carry on." Hagrid replied. "But one's thing's certain. Something about you stumped him that night. That's why you're famous. That's why everybody knows your name. You're the boy who lived."

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PUBLISHED: 13.02.20

A/N: I hoped you liked this chapter!

Votes and comments are very much appreciated!