Verus

eleven

Enter two more characters.. can you guess who?

Sorry this update's a little shorter than usual!

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1996, Diagon Alley, London

Harry grimaced to himself as he stepped out over the threshold to the only available wand shop within the alley, or so he'd been told. He'd asked around earlier after having made his hasty escape from the Nott men and Mr Malfoy, and had received nothing but raving reviews about Ollivander's, but as he exited the shop Harry couldn't quite hide his displeasure for the senile old man.

It had taken the better part of an hour for the wandmaker to finally locate a suitable wand, and for it to only turn out to be the brother of another. Lord Voldemort's in fact, which in itself was rather ironic.

It seemed that the two wands shared a certain feathered core, both belonging to the same phoenix. Phoenix feather wands were always the pickiest when choosing a suitable wizard too, Harry recalled as he popped the blasted thing into the leather holster at his wrist and came to a pause on the cobbled curb.

Wand acquired. All that was left to do now was find somewhere suitable to take up accommodation for the time being, he could investigate what was left of Wizarding Britain at a later date.

Hm...

With a single thought, Harry clicked his fingers and the scroll he'd been gifted earlier during his stay at Gringotts appeared in his grasp. His eyes trailed across the scrawled list of properties available to him as heir, but he honed in on the one closest.

Staying within the confines of London was his best plausible option, he didn't need himself getting lost this early on in the game, and it would be rather beneficial to him in the long run, for when he'd need to prepare for his next year at Hogwarts.

"Excuse me. You wouldn't happen to know where the nearest floo network is, would you?" Harry asked an older looking gentleman in passing, having since tucked the scroll neatly back into his robes.

The gent paused in his stride and cocked his head.

"That would be the pub, my boy. Same way you came in, I reckon." The man replied in a burly tone, and just as Harry went to thank him for his aid, the elder's bushy brows rose just beneath the brim of his top hat. "Say, you look a little familiar, have we been introduced before?"

A niggle of anxiety wormed its way into Harry's chest at the question but he plastered on another pleasant smile and shook his head lightly in retort, "I'm afraid you might be mistaking me for another, sir. I haven't seen much of Britain yet, only arrived this morning."

The gent frowned with a thoughtful hum, a whitened moustache blanketing his upper lip. "Are you quite sure? I never forget a face. Perhaps your father then?"

Harry fought against every instinct in his body to not react. He couldn't afford to. Not now. But the question had jilted him to the very core.

With a curt shake of his head and a somewhat stiffer smile, Harry took an obvious step backwards towards The Leaky Cauldron. "I'd very much doubt it, I simply must have one of those faces." He acquiesced with, what he deemed was, a casual shrug, "Thank you for your time, sir, but I really do have to get going."

The man appeared to remember himself then and nodded once in return, "Of course, my apologies for keeping you."

Harry shot him an amiable grin. "Enjoy the rest of your day." He called out hurriedly over his shoulder, and then he was gone, whisking himself into an approaching group of shoppers.

He allowed a simple moment to steady himself once he was sure that he was out of sight, up by an animal emporium where he could somewhat hide behind a plethora of metal cages, paying no mind to the hooting owls.