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Every moment of this day was beginning to feel more and more surreal, so when Harry was guided towards a dingy old pub by his aunt, he was starting to decide he was dreaming. There was no way this was real. Even if the pain he felt in his hand from where it had been squeezed by far too many strangers felt real.
“Did you know I was apparently famous?” He whispered to his Aunt, who was trying to gain the attention of the bar keeper who would supposedly let them into the “magic world” as his aunt called it.
“Well, I thought people would know who you are but I wasn’t expecting this,” she whispered back, ignoring her own rule that whispering in public made you seem distrustful. Finally, the man who had been serving a customer turned to them.
“What can I do you folks for?” he asked kindly. Harry saw Aunt Petunia fighting to keep from curling her lip in distaste. Whether it was from his thick accent or the dirty rag he was using to clean a glass, or from any number of things about him, Harry was unsure.
“We need to get into the shopping district,” she answered stiffly.
“Oh you’ve got a muggle born headin to Hogwarts?” The man peered down at Harry, thankfully failing to notice the scar he had tucked behind his fringe when it seemed to be the thing that caused everyone to recognize him.
"Something like that," he said dryly. Tom, which Harry figured was his name based on the tag on his robe, seemed confused, but thankfully didn't press for answers and instead told them he would open the gate for them.
Aunt Petunia motioned to Uncle Vernon and Dudley who were standing in a corner looking slightly overwhelmed. The family of four stood in front of the gate to the world Harry apparently belonged to which was currently a… brick wall?
"Alright, remember this for when you get your own wand, son. You're going to want to be able to get in and out without waiting for someone to open the gate for you in the future," Tom said, looking at him. "See this darker brick at the bottom here? You're gonna have to go up five, to the left two, and then tap your wand against the brick three times. Got it?" Without waiting for an answer, Tom tapped his stick- his wand- against the brick he gestured to, and suddenly the gateway was open.
Harry barely had time to marvel at the sudden exposure to a world full of magic as he was dragged by his Aunt toward the largest building he could see, a large white structure with a sign proclaiming it to be “Gringotts Bank.”
“Your parent’s likely left money for you,” his aunt explained. “The magic world uses money different from the rest of us normal people, so we’ll have to withdraw some before we can make any purchases.”
It was only through his aunt's training on never offending someone who could prove useful that Harry did not stare at the odd creatures in front of that were apparently goblins. He did make a mental note to look into the language they were using to communicate, though. He could only imagine what they were saying behind their customer's theoretical backs, all while standing right in front of them.
Apparentally, you had to have a key to access your vault at Gringotts. When the goblins found out that Harry didn't have one, they agreed to make one for him for the small price of a drop of blood to confirm his identity and 5 galleons, which quickly launched into an explanation of this world's monetary system. For the additional price of 5 more galleons, Harry was able to cancel the other key that someone out there had had created without his permission. Thankful that he had managed to subvert the crisis of someone else having access to his finances, he went to collect his money.
One dizzying mine cart ride later, where Harry could practically feel his cousin’s desire to yell in excitement being fought off only for his parent’s clear distaste for the situation, and Harry had a sack of gold coins tucked into his bag.
"Some money" was apparentally a very low estimate of his financial situation. James Potter must have been loaded, if the full vault was anything to go by.
“Do you think there’s any way I could transfer the money into Euros and give it to you and Uncle Vernon to use for the family?” Harry asked his aunt. She smiled, but shook her head.
“That’s alright Harry, you’re going to need that money to last you for school, and I’m sure the exchange rate between magic money and normal money is terrible due to the two world’s separation. It would likely be a large waste to have to transfer between it repeatedly.”
Harry nodded at the answer, and continued trailing after his Aunt as she tried to remember the way to various shops from memory.
It felt strange to Harry, realizing his mother had walked this same street with his aunt when she was eleven, just as he was now. It was also strange to realize that his aunt had suspected he belonged in this world for as long as he could remember, but had somehow kept it to herself. Everytime he had done a strange thing, such as talk to snakes or teleport onto a roof when being chased by Dudley’s aunt’s mean dogs, she had remained silent while knowing it was because he was a wizard that he could do these things.
But she had likely had a good reason. And even if she hadn't, it wouldn't do much to complain about it. He would simply do his best to integrate to this new world, learning all he can so as to help his family as much as possible.
"If I remember correctly," Aunt Petunia began, shaking him out his thoughts, "the two longest stops will be getting you measured for," here she paused to snuff distastefully " robes and getting your wand."
"Should we get me measured first then, and do the rest of the shopping while we wait for the robes? I can't imagine it takes very long with magic."
His aunt had barely gotten the agreement out before something occurred to Harry.
"Um, Aunt Petunia, where are Uncle Vernon and Dudley?" He asked, glancing around for the missing family members.
"I thought I heard Vernon muttering something about an early birthday present for you, and then I think he was planning on taking Dudley to ice cream shop we passed on our way to the bank."
"Oh," Harry said simply, mind already whirring with the possibilities of what his relatives could possibly be getting him from a magic shopping district. "Makes sense."
They eventually found their way to the robes shop, a little place called Madame Malkins tucked between what appeared to be more high end tailoring places. His aunt elected to remain outside when she caught sight of the flying tape measures and clothes sewing themselves together inside.
"Hello dear," a plump witch Harry presumed to be Madam Malkin greeted. "Standard Hogwarts robes, then?"
She gestured him up to a stool beside a bushy haired witch about his age and resumed taking the girl's measurements.
"Hi!" The girl said excitedly. "Is this your first year at Hogwarts too?" Harry was barely able to nod an affirmative before the girl continued talking.
"I'm just so excited! I'm a muggle born you see, so this is the first I've heard about magic," she said, somehow managing to get all of this out in one breath. Madame Malkin sent a disapproving look to the girl's arms, that were waving about wildly as she talked and preventing her from getting a measurement.
"I just went to the book store before this, and I picked up some extra books for when I finish reading all our textbooks for the year. Oh!" The girl apparently realized something, and pink flooded her face. "I'm sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself. My name is Hermione Granger."
"Harry Potter," Harry chuckled. "It's nice to meet you Hermione."
"I think I've heard people talking about you, and I think you were mentioned in one of the books I just bought," Hermione frowned.
"I supposedly vanished the Dark Lord, I believe, though how I managed to do that as a one year old I couldn't imagine. I had no idea I was in books though."
"I'd imagine you're pretty sick of people talking about it," Hermione said apologetically.
"Actually," Harry shrugged. "This is the first I'm hearing about it. My parents died in attack, so I was raised by my muggle relatives. I'm as new to this as you are."
"I believe you're done dearie," Madame Malkin interrupted before Hermione could reply. She pulled a small stone from a shelf, and after tapping it with her wand and muttering a few words, handed it to the girl who was now standing beside the stool. "I charmed that to vibrate and change colors once your robes are complete. It should be about an hour."
Hermione thanked the seamstress before turning back to him.
"Well, it was nice meeting you Harry. I hope to see you on the train."
"Train?" Harry asked confused. The measuring tapes were now whirring around him as Madam Malkin noted numbers on the clipboard floating in front of her.
"Oh, you don't know? Well, I suppose you wouldn't if you were raised by muggles. I only know because Professor Mcgonagall, she's the woman who brought me my letter and told me all about the wizarding world, told me about it. Apparently, we take a train to Hogwarts. You have to walk between to border between platforms nine and ten at King's Cross Station. Kind of a funny way for wizard's to travel, right? Anyways, I see my parents outside, so I'll see you at school, Harry!"
Harry was left staring after the bundle of hair and energy as she bound out of the shop towards two adults standing off to the side, looking as overwhelmed as you'd expect parents to be after finding out their daughter is a witch.
"That girl is quite something," The seamstress chuckled. "Headed straight to Ravenclaw, I'd bet."
"Ravenclaw?" Harry asked, once more finding himself overwhelmed with his lack of knowledge.
"One of the four Hogwarts Houses," she explained easily. "There's Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor, and Slytherin. There should be plenty of books on it if you'd like to find out more before getting to Hogwarts. For now though," she picked up another rock and performed the same charm as before, "same goes for you, come back in about an hour when the stone goes off for your robes."
Harry stepped back outside with much more information about the wizarding world than he had had before he entered. Still though, he expected he had much more to learn. Deciding he would follow in Hermione's footsteps and get bit of extra reading material, he asked his aunt to head to the bookstore next.
Picking up the first year textbooks was easy, as the store owner had apparently been told about the list before hand and had all of the books for what he assumed were the first through seventh year curriculum in a display towards the front of the store. Browsing for supplemental reading wasn't as easy. Eventually, he found a section full of books targeted towards muggleborns and found a few helpful titles. Everything You Need to Know About Magic seemed like a given, as well as a workbook that would help familiarize him with writing with a quill and ink. Then, there was the rather large book entitled Hogwarts; A History that Harry figured would be informative if only for its information about the houses.
Aunt Petunia had made clear upon seeing the apothecary that she would not be stepping foot inside, so Harry asked her to go to the stationary store to pick up parchment and writing supplies while he went in instead. Thankfully, she agreed to this plan and left while Harry purchased one of the first year supply kits along with the stone cauldron that definitely looked like it should be heavier than it was.
When his aunt returned, it was with his uncle and Dudley in tow as well as… a cat?
"Figured you were old enough for a pet now," Uncle Vernon explained gruffly. "Your letter said you could take either a cat, and owl, or a road, so I figured we could get you the least abnormal thing on this list."
Harry traded his bags for the cat carrier his uncle was holding and observed the animal inside.
She was all black, save for her eyes, which were a bright green. Harry's first thought was that she looked remarkably like a cat version of himself. His second thought was that she was the most stereotypical pet for a magic wielder to have, a thought that he almost couldn't help but laugh about.
"Happy early birthday," Dudley said when he looked at him.
"I love her," Harry smiled. "Thank you."
"Just as long as you're responsible for her, boy. I don't want to be taking care of the bloody thing on top of all the other work I have to do," Uncle Vernon said.
"Just your wand left, then," Aunt Petunia said. "Then we'll pick up your robes and return home for lunch. I'll let you keep your books so you can study, and your stationary so you can practice, but the rest of this is going in the cupboard downstairs. I don't want anything left out where the neighbors might run across it."
Harry nodded, though inside he was mourning the loss of more time to stare reverently at the supplies. At least he was allowed to keep the books. It wasn't like he could do much with the rest of it anyways.
They eventually found their way to Ollivanders, a shop so dusty Harry was surprised Aunt Petunia agreed to enter.
"Hello, Mr. Potter," a man said suddenly beside him, and it was only with years of his aunt's training that Harry didn't jump. Ollivander looked oddly disappointed by this.
"Ah, Mrs. Petunia, isn't it?" Olivander asked without waiting for an answer. "My, it's been a while since I last saw you. You were here with one Lily Potter years ago, though it was Lily Evans then, when she came to me as a first year. Well, I assume this must be your husband and son, then?" He gestured to Uncle Vernon and Dudley who had wandered off to the chairs tucked into the corner of the room.
"Well, let us waste no time Mr. Potter. Something tells me you will be a tricky customer. Please, if you would step up on this platform here."
Harry did so, handing his cat off to Dudley reluctantly.
Ollivander disappeared into the back for a moment before reemerging with a stack of boxes.
"Let's see…" he pulled a tape measure from seemingly thin air, and began measuring Harry's arms. "Right handed I presume?" At Harry's nod he continued, measuring seemingly random places and muttering under his breath.
"Something long, but not too long I think. 11 inches? Well, let's try something obvious first. Here, Mr. Potter, oak wood with unicorn hair. Giver it a flick, please."
No sooner had Harry grabbed the proffered wand than it had been snatched back.
"No no, just as I thought, a far too stubborn wand for you. Let's try this, mahogany with dragon heartstring, might have the right kind of fire for you."
This sounded promising to Harry, considering his first experiment into harnessing his magic and its fiery results, but as soon as he waved the wand the desk behind Ollivander burst into flames.
"Ah, I think a touch too much fire," he muttered, waving his own wand and summoning a burst of water that stopped the fire.
It felt to Harry as though they went through every wand in the store before Ollivander eventually reemerged from the back with a new wand.
"Well, let's try this then. Holly with phoenix feather, 11 and 3/4 inch. Bendy but not too supple, something quite unlike your parent's wands."
Harry grabbed the wand and felt a sudden warmth spread from this hand throughout his body. He unconsciously smiled as he brought the wand into the air and, upon waving it, summoned a shower of sparks.
"Ah, yes, a match for you at last. Though, I do say, it is curious," the wandmaker muttered to himself as he boxed up with wand.
"What's curious?" Harry asked, not failing to notice the looks his relatives were sending him for prolonging the already long visit. The stone had gone of some time ago, and his aunt had gone to pick up the robes and was now back, tapping her foot impatiently while waiting to return home.
"Well, it's just that the phoenix that gave the feather for your wand had only ever given two. And the other, well, it was used to make the wand for the man who gave you that scar." Ollivander reached forward, and was about to touch his forehead before Aunt Petunia coughed pointedly. Quickly, he withdrew.
"I believe you are destined for great things, Mr. Harry Potter. After all, Voldemort accomplished great things. Terrible, but great."
"Well, that was uncomfortable," Dudley said once they exited the shop. Harry found himself unable to really care. After all, he finally had real proof that he truly was a wizard. Armed with a wand and the newfound confirmation that he truly did belong somewhere, he doubted even the knowledge that he all but shared a wand with the man who killed his parents could bring him down