A few minutes later, Harry stood up; quietly making his way back along the long empty hallway and exiting out of the Janus Thickey ward.
My brother didn't say a word as he pushed open the stairwell door and began his ascension to the fifth floor. He just kept fiddling with the wooden box Lily had given him before her episode; turning it over and over in his hands compulsively.
「 Are you going to wear them? 」 I asked him, breaking the lengthy silence between us.
'Yeah.' Harry replied, his voice sounding far calmer than it should have been. 'You heard her. It's… How it should be.'
The boy reached the top of the hospital stairwell and pushed the door open, stepping forward into a large, but cosy-feeling cafeteria.
His eyes scanned our surroundings, his gaze skimming over the eye-catching lime-accented tablecloths which sat atop the cafe's cheap-looking tables.
McGonagall was sitting at one of the many two-seaters that were positioned over at the edge of the expansive room, a half-empty glass of an unfamiliar liquid sat in front of her.
Harry weaved through the tables scattered across the room, his agile movement quickly catching the woman's attention.
McGonagall's face remained as outwardly impassive as ever, but I could see that same strange look of guilt hiding behind her grey-blue eyes.
The woman's gaze flickered to the box held in Harry's hands, her eyes momentarily widening.
"Mr Potter? Is that- Did she… Give that to you?" The witch asked, standing up to pull out the only other chair for Harry to sit down in.
The boy nodded, absently fiddling with the box's ornate golden clasp.
"Yeah." He replied, taking the seat opposite her. "She gave it to me."
"To think you had such an effect on her…" McGonagall murmured, eyeing the box with regret. She elaborated after seeing my brother's more than curious expression. "That box was the only thing Lily wanted to keep from your old house, traumatised as she was. She didn't ask for photos, keepsakes, or anything of the like - Threw out or broke anything else we gave her. She just wanted that box." The woman broke off into another murmur. "To think she kept it even after all these years…"
Harry stared down at the box in his hands silently, before posing a question to the woman opposite him. "You… Don't know what's inside?"
The witch shook her head ruefully, still staring. "Didn't seem like the right thing to do at the time, considering the circumstances. We cast a few detection charms, of course, to make sure there was nothing dangerous inside before giving it to her - But nothing beyond that. I assume she told you what was then?"
"She said they were earrings," Harry replied, eyes downcast. "Meant for me."
The woman's expression softened.
I could feel Harry's relief, however small, that McGonagall was looking at him with a gaze filled with sympathy, not pity.
My brother hesitated. Then he opened the box, popping the ornate golden clasp and lifting the wooden lid upwards.
Nestled inside, sitting atop a plush red-coloured interior, were a pair of gorgeous, crystalline earrings. Two lengthy prism-shaped rubies glittered under the cold whitewashed light that was shining from the numerous ceiling lamps hanging above them; casting a handful of dark red shadows onto the soft cushioning below.
Harry picked one of them up gently, sliding his forefinger through the small golden hoop that was attached to the crystal's tip.
My brother's vision began to blur. The boy blinked his tears away quickly, not wanting to cry in front of the stern McGonagall.
It was an odd gift for a child, but Harry didn't care. As far as he was concerned it might as well have been a piece of his mother's heart. It was a fragment of the love Lily had felt for him before she broke.
"Professor," Harry said, making up his mind and closing his fingers around the earring tightly. "Do you know somewhere around here where I can get my ears pierced?"
The woman actually smiled, gracing my brother with an understanding look. "I can do it myself if you'll allow me to." She offered.
Harry nodded slowly, prompting McGonagall to flick her wand into her palm and beckon for my brother to move closer.
He picked up his chair and scooted around the table, coming to a stop just beside the older witch.
She raised her free hand and used it to brush Harry's curly hair out of the way, uncovering his left ear.
The woman tapped his earlobe with the tip of her wand, and an icy numbing sensation spread out across the surrounding flesh. Two more taps and the process was complete, leaving only a stinging sense of warmth behind.
The process was odd, because while I couldn't truly feel; I could sense the woman's magic invading Harry's flesh, which gave me a strange disconnected notion of what was truly happening.
"That's your left one done," McGonagall said, gesturing for Harry to turn around and give her access to his other ear. "I made use of a numbing charm to temporarily lessen the pain of the piercing, so do not be surprised if it begins to ache now that it has been removed."
The witch then repeated the strange-feeling process for his right one, before slipping her wand back up her sleeve and reaching forward to retrieve her unfinished drink.
My brother reached up, placing a tentative finger on the small hole now left in the centre of his earlobe.
'Art, was I too impulsive?' Harry asked, staring down at the large earring lying in his palm. 'I don't think this would even fit on my head.'
The earrings did indeed look just a tad too long for him to wear at the moment. Harry was already smaller than most children his age; meaning that the thin, lengthened rubies would likely rest on the tips of his shoulders for at least a few years yet.
It was a wonder that they had fitted within the small wooden box actually, but I supposed magic was probably going to be an answer to most of my questions these days.
It was because of this, that I had a nagging suspicion that these weren't going to be normal earrings.
「 You were. 」I agreed.「 But put them on anyway. McGonagall's waiting. 」
Harry nodded silently, unclipping the earring's golden hoop and reaching up to thread it through the newly made hole in his ear.
Just as the both of us had suspected, the prism-shaped ruby was too long. The moment Harry closed the clip again however, the earring began to shrink; with the crystal ending up at a more than reasonable length.
Harry blinked in surprise as he felt the change, whereas I was satisfied with my prediction. Resizable earrings. No wonder McGonagall hadn't objected to his piercing even after seeing the larger-than-convenient accessories.
My brother carefully put in the other right afterwards, treating both earrings like one would fragile glass.
"There." He muttered quietly, rubbing a thumb up and down the thin angular crystal. "Now she'll be with us, always."
McGonagall stood, smoothing out her robes crisply and tucking her chair back under the table.
"Before I return you to your orphanage, there is one more matter to take care of." The witch looked down at him appraisingly, staring at his new accessories with the barest wrinkles of grudging disapproval. "You'll need to purchase an owl."
Harry frowned, successfully distracted by her odd matter-of-fact remark. 'An owl?' He thought, confused. 'Why do we need an owl?'
His puzzled thoughts had clearly shown on his face, as McGonagall elaborated upon her statement a moment later.
"Wizards and Witches use trained owls to communicate with one another from afar. Think of them as pets that can also double as autonomous postmen. Simply give them a name or an address and they'll be able to deliver whatever you'd like to send."
"Oh," Acknowledged Harry, a quiet understanding dawning on his face. "I guess that's why owls are whitelisted as pets in the Hogwarts letter." He muttered.
The woman looked down at the boy approvingly. "A clever deduction. That is indeed the reason why they are permitted on school grounds."
Now Harry too, stood up, signalling to the fact that he was ready to leave.
The two made their way back to the stairwell and continued down it toward the ground floor.
My curious brother continued asking McGonagall all sorts of questions on the way; some pertaining to the school and how he would get there; others concerning his parents and what they had been like in their youth.
By the time the two of them made their way back to the alleyway beside the department store, Harry's interests were all but satisfied - For now at least.
The boy then took McGonagall's arm once more, and they twisted away, reappearing in the middle of a crowded street.
It took barely a second for me and Harry to notice that something wasn't quite right with this street.
'Wow. This place looks insane.' Thought Harry, his disbelief palpable.
I could only agree with him.
Diagon Alley, which was the only place this could possibly be, looked incredible. There was no other way to describe it.
It was nothing like the empty, built-up streets of West Birmingham, with their dirty tarmac roads and traditional-looking red-bricked buildings.
This place was different.
The main street was cobbled, with every building tall, decorated and colourful. It was crowded too, with even such a large central highstreet seeming far too small to hold the gaggle of witches and wizards who were out and about.
Various owls soared up and down the street overhead, far few scattering feathers down onto the people below, but all of them carrying either letters or packages of various sizes.
Many a hat was tipped in our direction as people began to recognise McGonagall, making Harry realise that the professor was likely a prominent figure within magical society.
I assumed that given her decades spent teaching at Hogwarts, many of the people here must have been one of her students at some point or another. It made sense that she would be recognised.
"With me Mr Potter." Said McGonagall, snapping my brother out of his reverie.
Harry hastily moved to follow the tall witch as she moved down the high street, blinking in surprise at the open displays of magic going on around them.
Eventually, the duo reached the shop the older woman was looking for; a small building named 'Eeylops Owl Emporium'.
The shop's exterior was brown and wooden, with its name emboldened in clear gold letters above the shop's entrance.
McGonagall walked up to the door and pushed it open; prompting my brother to speed up his pace and hurry to follow her inside; drawn back from his brooding thoughts.
It was dingy inside of the shop; its thick stained glass windows not allowing for much of the bright summer sunlight from beyond to enter into the room.
A curfuffle of content warbling echoed from all around them, the gentle sounds emanating from the myriad of cages that were either hung or placed inside of the room around them.
An ear-splitting squawk suddenly boomed out from the back of the shop, and I could barely make out the chaotic flurry of feathers that flew straight towards us at a break-neck speed.
McGonagall's wand was in her hand faster than Harry could even begin thinking about defending himself, and she instantly conjured a large purple shield that hovered just above the ground in front of them.
The aggressive mass of feathers smashed into it head-on, their owner temporarily slumping to the ground, thoroughly dazed by the collision.
The loud noises set off the army of owls surrounding the duo, promoting a cacophony of startled hoots and screeches.
"Bloody hell." A man's voice cried out, and Harry looked up just in time to see a wizard race into the front of the shop, wand outstretched. "I am so, so sorry." He said, quickly turning his wand on the recovering bird. "Imperio." He muttered angrily, causing the rogue avian to turn docile and straighten up immediately. "Into the back room with you. Now."
The bird, which I now recognised to be some kind of vulture, obediently hopped across the stained wooden flooring and retreated back into the room it had come from; after which the infuriated man slammed the thin door shut and locked it, breathing heavily.
"Care to explain, Mr MacMaster?" McGonagall asked crisply, her eyebrow most distastefully raised.
The young adult spun around, before blinking in recognition. "Professor? Now that's a surprise. Are you here to chat with Eyelops again? Because if you are, I'm sorry to say that he's on vacation right now."
The elder witch didn't answer him, instead pursing her lips together in disapproval. McGonagall's actions resulted in the young man's gaze turning sheepish, realising his lack of manners. "Right, sorry again. It's a bit of a long story actually."
"Was that a vulture?" Asked Harry aloud, who was still staring at the back room's door curiously.
"Yeah," MacMaster replied, walking over to the clerk's desk and scratching his head in embarrassment. "I've got a friend over in the muggle world - Bit batty, but very knowledgable about birds. That particular species has the highest recorded altitude of all birds in the world; over seven miles above sea level, can you believe it?" The man paused, shaking his head in a regretful sort of way. "Anyway, I wanted to test how receptive it would be to carrying mail - Just out of professional curiosity, but as you've just seen, the stupid thing isn't cooperating at all. Took me a bloody year to get a hold of too." He grumbled inarticulately, crossing his arms.
"Yes, Rüppell's vulture, I heard." Said McGonagall testily. "I was moreso referring to your use of an unforgivable in front of my charge. Surely a Confundus would have done just fine?"
I was honestly surprised that the woman knew what breed of animal he was talking about, given her magical heratige. So too was the clerk apparently, because he looked thoroughly surprised by her remark.
MacMaster looked glanced over at Harry somewhat guiltily, who in turn looked back, confused. "Yes, sorry about that. I've always been terrible at charms. Personally, I blame the wand - but I can't say Ollivander didn't warn me when I insisted on it."
McGonagall just rolled her eyes in response; her dry no-nonsense attitude making the young man squirm uncomfortably. "I wish to purchase you either a barn or tawny owl Mr Potter," The woman turned to look at Harry questioningly. "Which would you prefer?"
Instead of answering the woman, my brother posed her a question instead.
"What's an unforgivable?" Harry asked, not liking that he was being left out of the loop.
McGonagall stared down at him, her gaze turning critical before she sighed quietly. The woman recognised the necessity of an explanation.
"It's a category of spells that the International Confederation of Wizards has decreed are illegal to perform on another human being under any circumstance. As the name suggests, anyone who is found breaking this rule is penalized with a lifetime sentence in whichever wizarding prison is native to them. For us - That would be Azkaban."
McGonagall hit the clerk with another penetrating gaze. "Mr MacMaster here just used the Imperius curse to force that vulture into submission. To put it simply - he dominated its mind, which is both unethical and illegal."
MacMaster looked so affronted by the woman's statement that he lost his earlier sense of shame instantly. He piped up in protest at her statement, sounding thoroughly offended. "Now listen here Professor. You know damn well I wouldn't ever perform that on another person, and it certainly isn't illegal to use on birds. Old Eeylops has a ministry-approved permit that allows us employees to use it on the owls inside of his shop, so no-harm-no-foul, alright?"
The witch sent him a withering, unimpressed sort of look. "A vulture is hardly an owl Mr MacMaster. I doubt your ministry permit extends to such a specific breed of creature. In fact, I doubt Erik even sanctioned your experiments to begin with."
McGonagall's sharply placed words made the man go pale in the face.
"I misspoke." MacMaster stuttered, looking utterly horrified. "It says it's allowed on avians inside the shop, I-I read over it myself."
The man didn't sound very convincing though. The thought of being arrested clearly terrified him.
Harry let out a derisive snort across our link to quietly convey his amusement to me.
'Retard.' He shook his head, suppressing a chuckle. 'Well anyway, what d'you think Art?' He asked me, his tone turning thoughtful. 'Can't say I know much about owls. Barn or Tawny?'
「 Barn. 」I replied. It was an easy decision to make.「 They're cleaner, smarter, and quieter. 」
"Barn," Harry answered, sending me a mental thank you, before casting his eyes over the many barn owls that were perched inside of the many enclosures surrounding them.
"Go and pick one out, choose any one to your fancy," McGonagall said dismissively. "I'll be having a few words with Mr MacMaster while you do so."
Harry nodded obediently before wandering away to explore the deceptively large building; leaving his stern-looking chaperone and the now stuttering clerk behind alone in the front of the shop.
I sighed a breath of quiet relief, casting my attention toward the caged animals that surrounded us.
This at least, would serve as a nice distraction for Harry from what had happened earlier that day.
It did make me start to think though. A nagging feeling of suspicion gnawed at the back of my mind.
In the original books, during his first visit to Diagon Alley, Harry had been taken to Gringotts wizarding bank to be made aware of his inheritance.
So… Why hadn't that happened yet?
Then again, maybe McGonagall deemed this an improper time for such a thing, something which I sort of agreed with.
Maybe I was being a little too paranoid.
Maybe.
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