Querencia

The leaky cauldron

Leaky Cauldron was an odd place.

It was small, crowded and dingy. People sat huddled round small café tables with pints of famous beers that Harry had often seen his old foster parents drinking and talked loudly and animatedly as if they were in an argument only to burst out laughing. It was...normal. Like an old pub on the streets of London. It wasn't supernatural. It wasn't wonderous. It wasn't magical.

He didn't know what he had been expecting. Floating cups and dancing chairs with people in overly colourful robes and extravagant wands in their hands perhaps. Like the picture books he grew up reading or the movies he'd watched. Certainly nothing like this.

Harry stepped inside. His hair sticking to his forehead briefly hiding his lightning bolt scar and his glasses seeming too large and bulky for his face. His clothes felt old and out of place in the room full of those wearing extravagantly designed robes and suits. Yet even then, the moment he had stepped in he felt...different. There was a certain buzz in the air. A buzz that tingled with excitement and energy. It felt...magical nonetheless.

"Ah! Professor Dumbledore sir! Been a while since you've been here. What can I get ya? The usual?" The bartender called from the counter. His hands firmly gripping a silver cup as he polished back and forth. He gazed at Dumbledore, his eyes adorned with awe and his tone respectful. He stood up straighter the second Dumbledore gazed at him, his hands abruptly let go of the cup coming down to fiddle with his clothes and his smile widening tenfold.

"No thank you Tom." Dumbledore replied, his mood jolly and his eyes calculating yet unaware of the shuffle from the occupants of the bar and the awe radiating from them. It was as if Dumbledore was the celebrity and the people the adoring fans. "I'm simply here to show young Harry around before he begins his year at Hogwarts."

"My..god! Is that Harry Potter?" The bartender, Tom exclaimed. If possible, his smile seemed to increase in size once again and his hands trembled as they gripped onto the edge of the counter, as if to steady himself. Gasps radiated from every corner of the room.

Harry gulped softly as every eye turned to gaze at him, each glancing at his eyes once before moving up to gawk at his forehead. He moved forward, subconsciously flattening his hair attempting to hide his scar and straightening his clothes, brushing off any imaginary dust. A woman materialised in front of him, her wispy white hair tied back into a loose bun as her clothes shone golden in the light. Thrusting her hand forward, she grabbed his hand and shook it enthusiastically. "Such a pleasure Mr Potter. What a pleasure." She mumbled, her eyes crazed with glee and excitement.

A man strode forward, his hair slicked back and dyed black, pushing her to the side gently before snatching hold of his now free hand and shaking it with the same enthusiasm and vigour that the lady had. "Welcome back Mr. Potter. Such a wonder!" He squeaked, his voice cracking seeming so unusual and out of place for him.

The routine continued. Another would move forward, pushing the other out of the way, their clothes only becoming more and more expensive and their faces blurring into one as they all shook his hand and murmured quite thank yous, whispered welcomes and loudly introduced themselves. By each passing minute the crowd only seemed to increase and with each passing minute Harry found himself more and more desperate to escape. His hand ached, breathing seemed to refuse to come easily, his ears rang and his brain hurt as he tried to recollect the numerous names he had been told and the multiple faces he had just seen.

Another man came forward. His robes silk and a large purple turban seeming too big for him wrapped around head. His blue eyes drawn in concern and his hands firmly gripping his, shaking them softly. He didn't say anything. There was no murmur of thank you nor a whisper of welcome. He did not exclaim his name proudly so the crowd could here or stare at him like some talented zoo animal. He simply shook his hand, his blue eyes staring at him, calculating and full of worry as they seemed to drink in his appearance. His face twitched suddenly, violently till Harry found himself staring into golden brown eyes marred with ruby red streaks. His expression switched, from one of concern to that of love as he gazed at Harry warmly. Then, once again he twitched and Harry was once again looking into light blue eyes.

Jumping with shock, he let out a short breath, his eyes roaming round overwhelmed with the numerous hungry eyes pinned on him. Gulping before switching his eyes back down to the man stood in front of him. He let go of his hand, stuffing them in his pockets hastily and curling them into fists. His nails dug into his skin, drawing small red pools of blood and his eyes watered.

There were too many people here. There were too many.

He needed to leave. He needed to get out.

"Mr. P-p-potter!" The man spoke. His voice stuttering, seeming miles away as if underwater and his eyes seeming to glow slightly as a faint brown tint entered them. Reaching out, the man gently touched his shoulder before clenching and grabbing his elbow and moving forward, pulling Harry into the mass of people. Elbows hit his face and angry arguments filled his ears. Closing his eyes tightly, he wished to leave. Please...Please...please.

He muttered the words on repeat. Hoping that just this once, any god, any deity would grant him this wish if he wished long enough and loud enough. The voices overlapped till they were indistinguishable and they got louder and louder till...they stopped. Till all he could here was faint clanking, pattered footsteps and the stuttering man.

"Mr Potter." The faint whisper seemed to echo through the room. It came out blurred and too quiet. Harry gasped, his hands unclenching and hurriedly touching his chest.

Breath Harry. Breath. In and out.

He took a deep breath in. His head pounded and he closed his eyes wiping the few tears that escaped. The stuttering man waited patiently. His eyes constantly switching from brown to blue as they stared at him in concern.

"Ah! Harry! There you are m'boy..." a familiar voice called out from behind. Harry jumped swallowing and hastily wiping his tears before turning and smiling, flashing the headmaster an over eager fake smile.

"Sorry sir. There were just...a lot of people. I just needed to get out for a minute."

"Of course of course! Fame is not all... how do the muggles put it...sunshine and daisies yes?" Dumbledore chuckled his eyes twinkling brightly and his hands reaching out to grab Harry by the shoulders and pull him forward. Once he was sure Harry was by his side, he looked up searching the man's face critically for a split second before breaking out into a beaming smile. "I'm glad to know you are now acquainted with our dear professor Quirrell, Harry! He shall teach you defence against the dark arts when you get to Hogwarts."

"Right. It's great to meet you sir. Thank you for helping me out back there." Harry smiled sheepishly, rubbing the side of his neck and flashing the man...Professor Quirrell a quick hesitant smile which the professor replicated tenfold.

"Y-y-your w-welcome M-Mr P-potter! N-now I M-must be h-heading o-off. I have t-to b-buy another b-book on V-vampires!" Quirrell stuttered out, saying the last words with such an undignified shriek that Harry muffled a laugh with his fists and nodded hurriedly watching as the professor scurried away trembling.

"Now! Harry if we may? We have a very long schedule today. I would prefer if our schedule does not experience any further delays m'boy." Dumbledore gently pushed Harry forward, guiding him so he was facing the brick wall next to them. Harry stared, his eyes narrowing and his eyebrows raising. A brick wall? This was where they'd find an endless supply of wands and books? He turned to Dumbledore, his mouth open slightly ready to voice his onslaught of questions when Dumbledore pressed a finger to his lips in a shushing motion and pulled out his intricate wand pointing it at the bricks.

Quickly, in a series of motions, he tapped multiple random bricks and Harry watched open mouthed, gaping in awe as one brick slid to the side inch by inch, with many others following in pursuit. Bricks moved quickly one by one.

Left. Right. Left Right.

It wasn't until an archway formed and gave way, revealing the spectacle that lay behind did Harry truly find himself believing in magic. It wasn't till then did he realise his fantasies had come true.

"Welcome Harry. To Diagon Alley."