The Boy: Brandon Dursely

Chapter 5: Diagon Alley 2

"Bran?" His Dad's voice snapped him out of his reverie and Bran blinked. The man from the wand shop made his skin crawl. What he said about twin wands and whatnot stayed with him until now that they had been out of the shop and had been buying his robes and uniform set, along with some more clothes for him and some stuff for Dudely. They paid a few more galleons for the customization of the charm that would last for a few years, but his Dad said it would be good money and Madame Malkin made sure the charms were added with protection since they bought almost a whole trunk. They left their purchases for safekeeping with Madame Malkin for a while as they were going to check out a few more stores.

"Yes, Dad?"

"Why don't you and I buy your Potions Kit while your Mum buys your books?"

He would've love to switch places with his Mum, but he was excited to see what's inside a Potions Kit as well, so he nodded eagerly.

They went to some dank and dark shop which had the signboard saying 'Flankers and Sons' Everyday Apothecary'', but it was surprisingly neat and clean inside, although there was a weird smell. It was filled with rows and rows of cauldrons of different sizes and types, stirrers of different classes, things stored inside jars (personally, he didn't want to look at them and figure out what they were since the weird smell obviously came from them), and all the things needed in making Potions and so many ingredients. It made him more ecstatic to learn about Magic and the things connected to it, especially Potions. It seemed to be a helpful subject, since he read from one of the pamphlets that '...Potions are life savers' and that they can '...provide wizarding and muggle folk alike the answer to some of their ailments, among other things'. He read about the common ones, like the Pepper-Up which can reduce fever and some illness called dragonpox and rare interesting ones, like the Felix Felicis or Liquid Luck. There was even a thin journal called, 'Petite Potioneers 101' which had tips on how to improve one's crushing techniques or dicing techniques for beginners. He was delighted to see that it was free for first years and he asked the storekeeper, who introduced himself as Verdant Flankers, the son of the owner. He seemed to be impressed to see him interested in the subject and told him that if he wants to, he can give him subcriptions for several Potion Journals, including Petite Potioneers 101, which he would gladly give him for free. He smiled widely at that and profusely thanked the man. Verdant even told him tips in washing and taking care of his cauldrons, made him choose his stirrer color and gave him a discount for the engraving of his name on his cauldron, stirrer, mortar and pestle and some of the reusable jars for storing some ingredients. He told Bran that he could always come back whenever he wanted to.

As Vernon paid for all of the things they bought at the counter, Bran was bored, and decided to amuse himself by reading some more advanced potions journals at the back. He perused over several of them and settled on Potioneers Daily, which featured some of the latest innovations on Potion Making and Potions itself. Bran was reading as he walked back towards the counter where Vernon was having his turn for payment, when he didn't notice a man coming towards him.

"Ow!" Brandon winced as his body bumped to a strong, lean figure and he landed on his butt on the floor. The paper followed, landing on his face. He shook off the journal, frowning.  He then looked up to see a man in dark robes with black eyes glaring at him. He looked at those eyes in fear. The man was tall, brooding and intimidating, and so, as an eleven year old, Bran was scared.

Badum-badum-badum.

Bran's heart went thumping wildly, his blood leaped and he didn't understand why he didn't feel any pain or anything at all as he stared at those black, fathomless eyes. All he felt was the steady beating of his heart.

"S-so-sorry, sir," he stammered out.

The man did not say anything but glared at him one more time before heading towards the rack with the other journals at the back. Brandon let out air. He could sense the man's power, and he was positive that he was a wizard, a powerful one.

"Brandon? Come on now, son. Let's go," Vernon came over where Bran was brushing off dust from his pants. "Your Mum's waiting at the bookshop."

The young boy quickly nodded as he heard his father's voice.

As he headed towards the door, he didn't see the dark man staring at him, following his back as he headed out the door with his father, and out into Diagon Alley.

---

"So, you really are off to Hogwarts, huh, Bran?" Dudely asked as they went up to their respective rooms and head to bed.

"Yeah, I guess," he replied with a shrug. "But I'm still gonna write to you every week."

Thankfully, the trip to Diagon Alley went pretty well. Aside from the fact that he was worried someone might notice him and the incident at the Potions Apothecary with the man, it was nice. They got to eat delicious ice cream from Fortescue's and even took home some for Dudely, which surprisingly, didn't melt at all and he even got a few books like Hogwarts: A History and Hogwarts Atlas.

They got Dudely a pair of All-Warm and Dry Bedroom Slippers, which was warm and dry always, and adjusted to the right temperature for the wearer's needs, along with a small box of Chocolate frogs so that he could start a Card Collection of his own.

"Take good care of yourself, Bran," Dudley said towards his brother solemnly. "I'm going to miss you a lot. It's gonna suck without you, and I hope you still get to enjoy your school. Magic's pretty neat, and I hope you won't get into a troublesome adventure."

"Yeah," Bran agreed, knowing that while he had a penchant for trouble, it was rare that he was the one to seek trouble deliberately. "I hope so, too. Good night, Dudders."

Dudley grimaced at the nickname, but let it slide. Instead, both boys went inside their respective rooms after bidding each other good night's.

Brandon quietly settled himself on his bed. Somehow, there was a nagging feeling that told him that the school year he was to spend away from home wasn't, in any least, to go as smoothly as he would like.