When Harry Potter woke in the dark little room at the Leaky Cauldron, it was the dead of night. It was so dark he couldn't see a thing. After waiting for his eyes to adjust, he made out the shape of the room. He was lying in bed, with Hagrid asleep on a small sofa five meters away, snoring softly. Harry's glasses lay on the bedside table, covered in dust and some other substance. He picked them up and went to wash them in the bathroom.
How had he ended up here?
Harry returned to bed and tried to remember the day before. His memory came back slowly. Fifteen minutes later, he recalled what had happened at the Leaky Cauldron and began brooding over it. Far too many people wanted to shake the hand of the great Harry Potter. How was he supposed to avoid them?
Then a brilliant idea came to him.
"Hagrid!" he called, going over to the half-giant. He was about to shake him, but was afraid to touch him, so he tugged at his clothes instead. "Hagrid, wake up!"
"Merlin! Harry!" Hagrid woke at once and jumped out of bed. The last traces of sleep vanished when he saw the boy. "I was scared stiff when you fainted. I thought something awful had happened to you."
"Hagrid, could you please stop strangers from touching me and holding out their hands for me to shake?"
"All right, Harry. I didn't know you reacted that way. You should've told me. I wouldn't have let what happened in the bar happen," Hagrid said guiltily.
"Why don't we go shopping now? It's nighttime, so there won't be anyone around. It's the perfect chance to buy everything," Harry said hopefully.
"Harry, what's got into you?" Hagrid looked at him in surprise. "The shops aren't open at night."
Harry swore to himself. He'd been so carried away by his brilliant idea that he hadn't thought about the details.
"Sorry, Hagrid. I forgot," he said guiltily.
"It's all right, Harry. We'll go early tomorrow. There'll hardly be anyone around, don't worry. Now let's get some sleep."
Hagrid rolled onto his other side and fell asleep almost at once. Harry couldn't sleep for a while. He'd only just woken up and wasn't tired, but less than an hour later, he had calmed down and drifted off.
The next morning, he and Hagrid went shopping. While Harry had been unconscious in their room at the Leaky Cauldron, Hagrid had taken some money from his vault at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Harry hadn't known he had any money, let alone a vault. Still, he had one question: how had Hagrid been able to take money from his vault?
He trusted Hagrid and was grateful that he'd shown him the wizarding world. Without him, Harry would still be with the Dursleys, knowing nothing about the money. But he didn't like the idea that anyone could use his vault.
The mystery was soon cleared up: Hagrid had a key to it. Harry didn't ask where it had come from. It wasn't all that important. Since Hagrid had the key, he could keep it until Potter came of age.
After fainting, Harry had a much harder time dealing with people. He panicked and recoiled from everyone who passed by. There weren't many people around so early, though, and no one paid much attention to the strange boy.
First, they went to Madam Malkin's for robes. Harry resisted and wouldn't let her touch him, so taking his measurements took a long time. Eventually, Madam Malkin found a way to measure him without touching him. She enchanted a tape measure, and it measured Harry by itself. He watched the enchanted object in wonder and decided he would learn that spell.
After buying robes, a cloak, gloves, and a hat, they went to get his textbooks. That was when Hagrid and Harry had their first disagreement. Besides the required books, Potter wanted to buy Magical Outbursts: What They Are and How to Avoid Them, How to Become Invisible to People, and Don't Let Fire Hurt You. Hagrid flatly refused to buy anything but the textbooks.
When onlookers began gathering, Harry abruptly compromised: he could choose just one book. Deciding that learning to use his magic was the top priority, he chose the one about Magical Outbursts.
After the books, they bought a telescope, brass scales, a set of crystal phials, and a pewter cauldron. Then they went into an apothecary that reeked of something like rotten eggs and bought potion ingredients.
Outside, Hagrid asked Harry to show him his letter and studied it carefully again.
"Harry," he began cautiously. "Why didn't you accept my present?"
At first Potter didn't understand. Then he remembered the box he'd mistaken for a trap at the Dursleys' house, and blushed.
"Um... Hagrid, I'm sorry. I've just never been given any presents before. And I... well, I thought it might be some kind of trap," he mumbled, looking at his feet.
"Harry!" Hagrid looked even more horrified than when Potter had fainted. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who should be sorry. Once we've bought everything we need, I'll go to our room at the Leaky Cauldron and give you that box. For now, come on. I'm going to buy you a proper present. Your birthday was yesterday, and it didn't end too well, but I still want you to remember it for the rest of your life."
Hagrid took Harry to a pet shop, though it was hard to call it that. It was more like a shelter for every kind of animal.
Potter had never been to a zoo. He'd missed his only chance to go with Dudley because of the injury Piers had inflicted on his leg. Harry knew there were all sorts of animals, but knowing that was one thing; seeing them all in one place was another. Snakes, frogs, rats, mice, owls, some sort of cross between rabbits and pigs, ordinary rabbits, puppies, kittens, hamsters, monkeys, parrots, spiders. Harry didn't know where to look. He gazed at them in wonder.
At first, he thought Hagrid had given him a trip to the zoo, something he'd wanted for so long. But then he saw the price tags and understood: Hagrid wanted to buy him a friend, one who couldn't hit him, betray him, or hate him. The gratitude he felt toward the giant was impossible to put into words.
"How do you feel about owls? Cats, mice, and toads are useless animals. Owls do a lot of work carrying the post," Hagrid said, bringing him out of his daze.
"I love them!"
Harry had been glancing at a yellow-and-pink parrot, but decided Hagrid knew more about the wizarding world. Fifteen minutes later, they left the shop. Harry carried a cage with a snow-white owl inside. He was so happy he didn't even jump away when Hagrid accidentally brushed his shoulder. He did get goose bumps, but compared to his earlier reaction, it was a huge improvement.
When Potter tried to thank the giant for what must have been the tenth time, Hagrid stopped him.
"That's enough, Harry," he said awkwardly. "All we have left is to get you a wand."
"Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.," Harry read on the sign outside the shop.
To spend your whole life doing nothing but making wands. Every Ollivander became a wandmaker, whether he wanted to or not. Harry was sure coercion had played a major part in keeping the tradition alive for so long. If every Ollivander had done what he wanted, the family would have made wands for three or four generations at most, until around the year 100. And that was only if the fathers raised their sons well and taught them to love the craft.
Still, what did it matter whether they'd been forced to make wands? What mattered was that they knew their trade. Probably. They must have learned a lot over two millennia.
As Harry and Hagrid entered the small, shabby building, the owl asleep in her cage, a bell tinkled and an old man came out to greet them. Hagrid said this was Mr. Ollivander. Potter was left with a very unpleasant impression of him.
First, Ollivander told Harry all sorts of interesting things about his parents, the Dark Lord, and Harry himself, though really he talked more about their wands than about them as people. Harry also learned that Hagrid had been expelled from school and that his wand had been snapped in half, with the pieces kept inside his pink umbrella.
Ollivander's excessive friendliness didn't fool Harry, who kept a close eye on him. When the shopkeeper came right up to him and tried to touch his scar, Potter jumped back toward the exit.
Hagrid had to step in on his behalf. "Mr. Ollivander, the thing is, Harry doesn't like people coming up to him, much less touching him," he said, stepping in front of the boy.
Harry learned a great deal about the wizarding world while buying his wand, but he was angry as he left the shop. Yes, he'd gotten some kind of incredible wand, the sister wand to the one belonging to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Phoenix feather, holly, eleven inches, very flexible.
Harry liked his wand. It looked beautiful and fit comfortably in his hand. But because of it, people would think he was special again and come at him with their handshakes. Brr.
"Hagrid, my wand's defining characteristic is its flexibility. How will that show itself?"
"I don't know much about wands. Why didn't you ask Ollivander when we were in the shop?"
"I just didn't like him. He kept hovering around me, staring at my scar. He even scared me a little. So, what about the wand? I don't need an exact answer. Just tell me what you think."
"Well..." Hagrid thought for a moment. "I reckon it's all nonsense. My wand was oak, sixteen inches, very pliable, and none of those qualities ever showed up while I was using it. If anything, I thought it moved more slowly. When they say a wand is good for charms or good for Transfiguration and things like that, those qualities really do show. But 'very pliable,' 'flexible,' 'stiff,' 'comfortable,' and all that other nonsense? It's made up. Sometimes I escort children from Muggle families, and they buy their wands while I'm there. They always end up with shoddy ones."
Harry thought about that. "Thanks, Hagrid. I understand. Could you not tell anyone I got this kind of wand? I mean, about it being related to You-Know-Who's wand," he asked cautiously.
"All right, Harry. My lips are sealed," Hagrid said, throwing Harry's own words from the boat back at him.
"Thanks, Hagrid," Potter said with a smile.
Soon they got on the Underground and rode in silence to the right station. They walked for fifteen minutes to a train station. Hagrid bought a ticket and helped load their purchases onto the train when it arrived.
"That's it, Harry. I've got to go. Here, this is your train ticket. September first, King's Cross Station. It's all written on there. If you have any problems, send me a letter by owl. She knows where to find me... Well, see you soon, Harry."
The train began to move. Harry was about to wave goodbye, but saw all the people watching it as they saw off their relatives and changed his mind. When Hagrid disappeared from view, Harry remembered that the giant still hadn't given him the box he'd brought as a birthday present. He spent the whole journey home wondering what it might be.
During the next week at the Dursleys', Potter became remarkably good at hiding. Not from his aunt and uncle. The adult Dursleys had stopped paying attention to him, and since they'd used to do nothing but scold and hit him or bury him in chores, Harry was perfectly happy with that arrangement. He was hiding from Dudley, Piers, and their gang.
For the first couple of days, he stayed in the cupboard, but Aunt Petunia kicked him out when she found out. With nowhere else to hide, Harry took to the bushes. They were thick, and Dudley and Piers would never have guessed he could climb into them and stay there for so long. But he couldn't hide there forever. Gordon, Dudley's friend, spotted Harry coming out of the bushes and told his cousin and Piers.
Now Harry simply ran from his slower pursuers. He needed enough time to hide and finish reading the book about Magical Outbursts, though he couldn't imagine how it could help him. It contained only general information about Magical Outbursts and how to prevent one. Harry, on the other hand, wanted to use one whenever he wished.
After a week of reading the same book, he had grasped the basics. A Magical Outburst, or Elemental Magic, was when a wizard performed magic involuntarily. Elemental Magic most often manifested in children under eleven in critical situations, especially when their lives or health were in danger. Once children went to school and learned to use a wand, these manifestations became rare.
Harry had already turned eleven, but he hadn't started school yet, so he hoped he might be able to use this magic whenever he wanted. Potter came up with three necessary conditions for using Elemental Magic.
First, a threat to his life or a sudden shock. Harry shouldn't have any trouble with that. Anything Piers or Dudley did to him could be called a threat to his life.
Second, a powerful desire to escape an unpleasant situation. Harry hadn't tried this one yet. Usually, he simply endured the torture.
Third, directing his magic toward getting out of the unpleasant situation. Harry didn't understand this at all. The book didn't explain it. The only thing he found was that directing magic at anything specific was useless.
Still, Harry hoped that if he kept running from Piers and his gang, he wouldn't need magic to help him.
That week, Harry also found time to talk to his owl. He really did talk to her, telling her how hard his life was while she looked at him as if she understood every word. Potter named her Element, after the phrase Elemental Magic he'd found in the only book about magic he'd started reading.
Harry worried about what to feed her. Her cage was open, and at night he let her out to hunt. But what if she couldn't catch anything? What if the Dursleys stopped letting him release Element to hunt? It couldn't hurt to be prepared. Harry sent Hagrid a letter explaining the problem with food and describing the situation with the Dursleys. Potter missed the giant a little. Hagrid was the first person who had ever cared about him.
And so the first week of August passed peacefully.
Everything changed on August ninth. That day, Harry fell into a little trap set by Malcolm, another member of Dudley's gang. That evening, Harry was heading back to the Dursleys and didn't notice movement in the bushes beside the passage to Privet Drive in the darkness. He was terrified when a shadow suddenly leaped out at him.
"Got you!" Malcolm yelled, grabbing Harry by the arm.
Harry was so frightened that he did something he would regret for the rest of his life, if he was caught. He remembered the way Dudley used to hit him when they were little and tried to copy the same movement, punching Malcolm in the eye as hard as he could.
Malcolm let go at once. Harry sprinted toward the woods. Piers, Dennis, and Dudley immediately chased after him. They'd been waiting behind the house. Harry could hear their footsteps slapping the ground behind him. He ran faster and faster.
After a minute, Dudley fell behind, and Potter pulled a good distance ahead of Piers. But Dennis, the fastest of his cousin's gang, was almost on top of him. Harry realized that if they caught him now, he'd pay for all the days he'd spent hiding from them.
It seemed impossible for an eleven-year-old to keep up that speed for so long, but Harry somehow managed to go even faster. After another three minutes, Piers had fallen completely behind, and Dennis had disappeared. Potter quickly jumped into a bush and froze. He lay on the ground for about two minutes, listening to the sounds around him. Birds sang nearby. He was close to the edge of the woods, but heard nothing suspicious.
Finally, he caught his breath and staggered toward Privet Drive, still unsteady and keeping an eye out. At first, he could barely move without making a sound, but as time passed, he grew bolder and sped up.
Suddenly, he heard running footsteps behind him. Harry turned. Dennis was racing toward him, only two meters away. Potter let out a panicked shriek and ran, but before he could even get up to speed, Dennis caught him and knocked him to the ground. He began beating Harry furiously.
Potter managed to push him away with his feet and pulled out his wand. Pointing it at Dennis, Harry realized he didn't know a single spell. He blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"Abracadabra!" he yelled, waving his wand wildly.
Nothing happened. A second later, Dennis burst out laughing.
"You're a wizard!" he managed to say through his laughter. "I'll show you some real magic."
Dennis kicked Harry in the stomach. The blow was so hard that Potter flew a couple of meters and crashed into a tree.
"Your wand?" Dennis asked mockingly. "I wonder what'll happen if I bend it."
Dennis had no idea how right he was. He reached for Harry and snatched the wand from his weakening hands.
Very flexible, Harry remembered. It wouldn't break. Potter felt strangely certain of it.
Dennis snapped the wand in half, then broke it again and again.
"Oops!" he sneered. "Don't be sad. I'll comfort you in a minute."
He tossed the eight pieces of the holly-and-phoenix-feather wand at Harry's feet. Potter looked at them, pain in his eyes. The wand related to the Dark Lord's had been broken.
Dennis pulled out a lighter, sparked it, and held the flame under Harry's nose.
No! Anything but fire, Potter thought in terror.
He tried to crawl away, but there was a tree behind him. Desperate to avoid the flames, he suddenly felt some kind of energy surge toward the lighter.
The flame went out.
Dennis stared at his lighter in confusion and tried to light it again. And again. At last, he succeeded.
A second later, Dennis burst into flames...
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