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Disclaimer: This fan fiction was based on the Harry Potter books by J.K. Rowling. I do not claim ownership on any character created by J.K. Rowling, and no money is collected from this story. This is one way I show appreciation to J.K. Rowling's works. Other names or places on this story are fictional. Any similarity to actual name is purely coincidental.




Chapter 3: Diagon Alley

Harry was dreaming a romantic interlude with a beautiful blonde when he was lightly shaken awake. He half opened his eyes and half heard Max's order coming from the doorway. He reached for the clock on his bedside table and saw it was only four in the morning. He put it back and went back to sleep, hoping to catch the blonde.

"Harry, wake up! Wake up!" Max said loudly, roughly shaking Harry's shoulder at the same time. Harry reluctantly sat up and rubbed his eyes. It was the first Saturday of July. He was hoping for an extra bedtime.

"It's four o'clock in the morning Uncle Max," Harry sleepily protested. "What could be so important?"

"Get ready Harry. We're going to Diagon Alley." Max said excitedly, pulling him up and shoving him towards the toilet room.

After several minutes, Harry went downstairs and found Max waiting for him in the kitchen. He gratefully accepted a cup of tea and carefully took a sip. "So, why are we going to Diagon Alley?" Harry inquired curiously. "I've heard about it from my aunt, but I haven't actually been there."

"It's an unbelievable place. You just have to see it to believe it," Max replied mysteriously not really answering his question. He saw Harry rolled his eyes. After drinking their tea, Harry hurriedly washed the pot, cups, and teaspoons and left them to dry on the kitchen sink.

"Are you ready to go Harry?" Max asked cheerfully, and just received a nod. They locked the house, went to the train station, and rode on a train to London. The train ride took a while but they were finally standing in the doorstep of the Leaky Cauldron, thanks to Harry.

"Leaky Cauldron?" Harry asked, confused.

Max just smiled and led him inside. Harry felt he had traveled back in time. The place looked like a bar and restaurant from the middle ages. People in odd clothes and weird hats turned and looked at them. He could hear some of them mumbled muggle and /anti-muggle charm/. Two identical redheads were openly staring at them when a portly redheaded woman, probably their mother, whacked them in the head with a rolled paper. The other redheads, a bushy brown haired girl and another brown haired boy sitting around the table laughed uproariously. Max talked to the barman and motioned for Harry to follow.

The barman led them out back and began tapping some bricks in the wall with his wand. The bricks suddenly moved and formed an archway. "Welcome to Diagon Alley," he said grandly.


It was a sight to behold. Harry couldn't help gawk. The scenery looked like it was taken from a page of a fairytale book. There were so many magical things to see that he didn't know where to begin. As he wasn't watching where he's going, he would sometimes bump on a witch or wizard and he would apologize profusely. One young witch with a dirty blonde hair and big blue eyes told him it was the Wrackspurts' fault for they would sometimes enter an unsuspecting wizard's ears and make his brain go fuzzy.

They stopped in front of a white tall building. "This is Gringotts, the wizards' bank. Let's go inside and exchanged our money. And don't point at the Goblins," Max told Harry before climbing up the stone steps.

Harry just followed Max inside. He noticed some writings above the doorway but was too in awe of the Goblins to read it. They waited in line in the impressive great hall until their turn came.

"Good morning. We'd like to exchange these pounds to wizard money please," Max said handing a bundle of British pounds over the high counter. "May I ask what the exchange rate is?"

"It's five pounds to a galleon. You will also have to pay four sickles and eighteen knuts for exchange fee," the Goblin replied. The Goblin teller loudly counted the coins, put them in a pouch, and handed it over to Max.

They left Gringotts and entered a robe shop. "Welcome. Please take a seat, I will be with you shortly," a well dressed old witch said as she attended a young pompous looking blond wizard who glared at them.

"Muggles and mudbloods... why do I have to suffer their presence?" the young wizard complained contemptuously. He looked like he wanted to squash them like a bug.

"Now, now, young Malfoy... I will have none of that talk in my shop," the witch admonished firmly. "There, you're all done."

The offensive wizard stepped down from the footstool and left without a by your leave. "That boy has a serious attitude problem," Max commented, shaking his head.

"Hello, I am Madam Malkin. How may I help you?" the witch inquired politely. Max and Harry stood up.

"Hello, we would like to buy a couple of wizard cloaks. I would like to have it in dark blue color and in dark green for him," Max said straight away.

Once again, they were outside dressed in their brand new cloaks. Their appearance didn't draw anymore attention like before. Max decided to get Harry his own wand so they headed to Ollivander's wand shop. They entered the ancient store with the tinkling sound of a bell and stood waiting in the middle of the floor.

"Good day to you, sirs," a voice suddenly said behind them, and a shadow revealed his presence.

Harry almost jumped out of his skin. After all, he wasn't expecting that.

"I am Mr. Ollivander, as the sign says, at your service," Mr. Ollivander introduced grandly, giving a slight bow to Max and Harry. "You looked familiar. Have we met before?" Mr. Ollivander asked Harry, with a puzzled look on his face.

"I don't think so, sir. My name is Harry Evans," Harry calmly said.

"And my name is Max Fedwick," volunteered Max.

"How may I help you Mr. Fedwick, Mr. Evans," Mr. Ollivander inquired politely.

"I would like to buy Harry a wand," Max declared proudly while placing his left hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Is this going to be your second wand, Mr. Evans," Mr. Ollivander suspiciously asked.

"No, sir, this will be my first wand," Harry smiled politely. "I don't want to take up much of your time with my boring story. Honestly, this is my first wand," he said with conviction this time.

Mr. Ollivander gave him a calculating look and said, "Now, please raise your wand hand." Not sure what he meant, Harry raised his right hand. A tape measure started taking Harry's measurement more than was necessary, until it was told to stop. Harry tried several wands before getting a silver spark from a holly with werewolf hairs.

"You have a temperamental wand there, Mr. Evans; twenty nine centimeters, sturdy and very good for dueling," Mr. Ollivander said cheerfully. "That will be ten galleons, please,"

Max was about to pay for the wand when Harry said, "Thank you very much, Mr. Ollivander but I'm afraid I won't need it." He gave back the holly wand.

"What do you mean? How are you going to do those spells if you don't have a wand?" Max asked quizzically.

"I do have a wand." Harry brought out the wand that belonged to Max's wife.

"May I see it, Mr. Evans?" Mr. Ollivander asked, holding out his hand. Harry hesitantly handed it to him. Mr. Ollivander meticulously examined the wand. "Hmmm... swishy, a very good all around wand. I believed this belonged to Eva Antwell." He gave Max a searching look.

"Yes, that was the name of my mother-in-law. The wand was inherited by my wife," Max explained.

"/Scourgify/," Mr. Ollivander said, pointing to a dusty table. The dust disappeared. "The wand is still good, even though it is a little bit worn. A good polishing will do the trick." He gave the wand back to Harry. "But I must tell you Mr. Evans, you will only get good results with your own wand."

"Are you sure Harry? You know I can pay for the wand," Max told Harry.

"I'm sure. We can use the money to buy more books on spells. There's no sense wasting a perfectly good wand," Harry reasoned convincingly, pocketing the wand.

After Max paid for the wand polish kit, they proceeded to Flourish and Blott's. Back at the wand shop, Mr. Ollivander was curiously looking through the window at Harry's retreating back. "Potter, yes, I remember now. He has the Potter features. He must be the Potter's supposedly squib first born son. I wonder what fate has in store for you, Harry Potter." He, then, went back to the counter and wrapped the box containing the holly wand on a plain brown paper. He wrote the name Harry Potter on top and placed it on a reserve slot on the wall.

Meanwhile, Harry and Max were about to enter Flourish and Blott's when they noticed a commotion further up the alley. Max wanted to know what it was about so they went to investigate. They pushed their way in the middle of the crowd. They saw a forty something year old mother trying to protect her eleven year old daughter from seven teenage witches and wizards. The group was led by that pompous fellow Malfoy from the robe shop.

"Why do you muggle always try to befoul the purity of wizard's blood. We don't need you or your mudblood daughter in our world," the blond git hatefully sneered.

Max when he heard this immediately stood in front of the terrified mother and her daughter. "It is you and your purist kind that give the wizarding world a bad image. Why don't you and your friends do us all a favor and hang yourselves and leave us all in peace," Max menacingly said.

"Oh? What do we have here another stupid muggle," the blond git mockingly said, while slowly turning his back on Max. He suddenly turned around wand pointed at Max and yelled, "Relas//..."

Draco Malfoy never completed the curse. He felt his wand hand forced down and a hard fist hit him in the jaw with an awful sounding crack. He reeled at the impact and staggered dizzily. He tried to clear his head and looked at the imbecile who attacked him. It was the mudblood from Madam Malkin's shop. For a moment, his blood boiled with anger. But when he looked closely on his attacker's face, he was momentarily taken aback. The green eyes gleamed coldly. The face was almost carved in granite. There was no anger, smile or scorn. It was just a deadly cold calculating face. He then felt his arm violently twist. He couldn't hold on to his wand. And then a strong force slammed on his elbow and heard a loud snap. He howled in pain. The last thing he remembered was being shoved to someone behind him, probably Crabbe or Goyle, before he lost consciousness.

The crowd had scattered in fear. Max hustled the fearful family into the safety of Eeylops Owl Emporium. The blond git's howl of pain seemed to mobilize his shocked buddies. They immediately reached for their wands. Harry knew they wouldn't fire a curse at him for fear of hitting their leader. So he grabbed the blond git by his neck and pants and rammed him to the two bulky thugs immediately behind him. They went down in a tangle of arms and legs with the blond git still howling. The blonde git's other cronies found an opening and fired several curses at him. He dived in front of a girl with a pug face, rolled, and forcefully punched her in the solar plexus. As she doubled over, Harry lifted her and rammed her to her remaining cohorts. Two of them had the sense to get out of the way.

"Stupe//..."

"Redu//..."

Again, they were too slow. Max had joined the fray and brought down the two upstarts. Harry sensed something behind him and ducked very low. He narrowly dodged the fist of one of the two bulky thugs. From his squat position, he quickly turned around and drove his fist to the unprotected family jewel. The thug dropped down like a log whimpering, and holding his precious jewel. He instantly stood up, and put up his hands like a boxer, and faced the other thug looking wizard.

He heard a warning shout from behind and took a quick glance over his shoulder to his right. He saw a black haired wizard with a major teeth problem fired a green light at him. He tried to dive out of the way but he knew it would be too late. He felt a body slammed into him followed by a green light. He went down on the cobblestones face first. Even though the wind was knocked out of him and his face bleeding from a cut in his left eyebrow, he tried to scramble out of the body pinning him down. But it was over. The purist wizards had picked up their wounded and were running away. He never saw the wizard who fired the green light among them.

He looked down at the body still lying on the ground on his stomach and realized it was Max. He went down on his haunches and shook Max's shoulder to wake him up.

"Hey wake up Uncle Max. It's over," Harry said amused. There was no response. "Alright, be that way." Harry gently turned him over and saw Max's open lifeless eyes. Harry's smile slowly disappeared. His heart began to beat faster, a feeling of dread course through his body. He slowly placed his trembling hand over Max's chest but he couldn't feel any movement. He then tried to feel a pulse on Max's neck. He found none. His eyes started to moisten with tears as he picked up Max's head and rested it on his lap.

"Uncle Max, Uncle Max, please, wake up, please, please wake up, don't leave me, Uncle Max, please, wake up," Harry pleaded in a child like voice, tightly hugging his guardian, tears and blood coursing down his face. He began to rock his body back and forth with Max cradled lovingly in his arms. A cry of pain and sorrow filled the silence that descended on Diagon Alley.

A new crowd had gathered around him. The aurors who finally arrived tried to break up the crowd and send everyone away.

"He's dead son," a soft gentle voice said to him. "Here, let me take him." Harry felt hands tried to get him up.

"No! Leave me alone! He's not dead!" Harry shouted violently, jerking away from the hands on his shoulders.

"We could take him to the hospital then. The healers can take a look at him to see what is wrong," the gentle voice said persuasively.

Harry didn't answer. He just continued to rock his body back and forth, crying softly.

"Stupefy!" Harry's body slumped to the ground.

"What the bloody hell was that!" Nymphadora Tonks shouted angrily.

"We don't have time for this Tonks. Now, take the body and the boy to St. Mungo. They can handle the boy better than us," the lead auror ordered coldly.