Harry walked through the dizzying assortment of shops with his pockets freshly lined with gold. The Dursleys, Voldemort and all his other troubles seemed to have been shed at the enchanted wall leading to Diagon. Reaching into a pocket that wasn't clinking with coins he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper and read the short note again. It was a sharp contrast to Moody's scrawl of letters; the words flowed together perfectly.
Ron and I will meet you at the usual place now that everything's sorted. Expect us around four but don't
count on it. Try and have some fun until we get there, you sounded like you need some judging by the last letter you
wrote.
Love - Hermione
Returning the note to his trousers he wondered if there was a time when the letters exchanged between them
weren't cryptic. Fun, that was what she had said and she was always right it was time for some fun. His feet had
started him off in the direction of Quality Quiditch Supplies as he had been thinking and now he stood, nose almost
pressed to the window. The broomstick display was obviously the fruit of long hours of labour. Different size brooms
hung in mid air rotating slowly almost hypnotically while snitches zoomed between them. A boy, much younger than him,
joined Harry by the window to enjoy the free display. The child turned to Harry grinning happily and slowly his mouth
fell open.
"Hey! Your Harry Potter!" His hand rushed to his head emphasising the point that he knew what the scar
meant.
"Shh! Keep it down!" Harry tried to turn back to the display but the damage was already done. He could feel
every eye in the street swivel in his direction, like piranha drawn to blood. The child smiled obviously pleased with
himself and the attention. Harry tried to walk away but the crowd moved with him, the fact that most people tried to
hide their interest made it clearer.
"Mr. Potter! I'm with the Profit, would you care to say a few words." The lanky man had elbowed his way
to the front of the gathering.
"About what?" Heat rushed to his head making him aware that he must look clumsy and stupid in front of all
these people.
"Well... Uh anything really..." The reporter gripped his pen like one might grip a sword while making a
triumphant gesture. THUD! Harry looked around pole-axed THUD! The best way he could think of the sound was as pain,
pain driving itself through his scar. THUD! His feet went out from under him and the paving stones suddenly seemed much
closer than they should be. "Mr Potter?"
"Nothing to see here! Give the boy some room." The man in the green cloak cut an impressive figure, made even
more so by the fact that he had just walked out of nowhere. "Go on! Off with you!" Harry, who was by now
sitting up began to think that the shouting would increase interest rather than subside it. But to his surprise the
crowds dispersed slowly but steadily, not as surpassingly the journalist had gone too. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah I think so." Dusting himself down didn't help his appearance much. The stranger in the cloak thrust
out a hand.
"George Stedding, pleased to meet you," Harry scrambled up and shook George's hand. The pain in his head
came to a final peak and then disappeared. Harry noticed a long scar across the man's wrist. "I keep
birds," George answered in explanation, "large ones. I'm also an Aurora, the people up stairs got a few
of us patrolling the streets, it's mostly for show mind you." The he talked quickly and strung most of his
words together. After checking Harry was, indeed, all right he walked off into the once more flowing streets.
A few hours later and Harry was racing down the cobbles towards the Cauldron, in his arms he balanced two large bags
of stuff he didn't really need but had brought anyway and a gift wrapped box. The wrapping paper was a vast
improvement on the muggle variety, hundreds of different coloured squares kept swapping places and spelling different
words. It had seemed interesting when Harry chose the wrapping but now it was just distracting, it kept swinging in and
out of view as he ran. The common room wasn't as full as it had been so he was able to continue running until he
reached his room. Wrestling with his dirty clothes and changing with too fast fingers took twice the time it should
have done but he didn't stop to think. His watch bleeped signalling four just as he sat on the bed panting. Tom
poked his head round the door.
"Harry? They're already here." Harry pulled himself up managing to smile at his haste while seething
inside. He followed Tom's pointing finger to two doors next to each other, one was half-open. As he left his room
he paused to pick up the strange package. His rage subsided instantly when he saw what Hermione and Ron were leaning
over, he stood watching them, Hermione especially. She was tending to a half dead owl with a worried look on her
face.
"Uh... need a hand?" He stepped through the door and shut it behind him.
"Oh, hi Harry, no I think I've just about... there," She finished tying the bandage on the birds wing and
stood up to great him properly. Ron took one quick look at the owl and then stood up as well. The sun streamed through
a window behind her and illuminated her curls. Harry stared; he didn't know quite how to describe the effect other
than that it transformed her almost completely.
"You all right?" said Ron, snapping Harry back into reality.
"Huh? Me I'm fine." Harry hoped he wasn't turning red.
"Then stop gawking and tell us what you've got there." Ron gestured to the parcel in Harry's
hands.
"Don't rush him Ron." Hermione stepped forwards and gave Harry a friendly hug. Behind her back Ron
mouthed something about nagging girls, Harry grinned at him - It was good to be amongst friends again.