16 the end of the start

"Alright now that out of the way, first of Madam Malkin, while you are fitted, I will go gather what you will need during the year. I have left a hundred twenty-five Galleons in your pouch for your year at Hogwarts. You would need 7 for your wand, 15 for the cauldron, 3 for the filial, 25 for the telescope and 7 for the brass scale, a further 21 for the book, and 20 for clothes so you would have 24 Galleon for the year, that should be enough I think."

After rummaging through the pouch to extirpate the total amount need in order to get rid of her, he enters the shop.

(The following is directly take from the book with small change.)

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

"Hogwarts, dear?" she said when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here, another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

'Great, I can't avoid Malfoy even when the cannon have diverged that much.'

-Such to be you some time.-

"Hello," said the boy "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said Harry.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands." said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why the first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

'Would have he be a wizard, he and Dudders would have been either great friend or archenemy with their own gang of tugs.'

-Nah, seeing how Vernon suck his better, and who Dudders is it would be a great show, a beaten Draco while Vernon suck off Malfoy to amend his child sin.-

"Have you got your own broom?" The boy went on.

"No."

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth takes so much time for those things to be made.

"I do, father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute.

'I swear he had some sort of neuron killing curse of something'

-Might be the entire Alley, with centuries of exposure, the stone surely bled off stupidity at this rate.-

"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family has been, imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"Mmm," said Harry, wishing he could snuff of the annoying prat.

Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly.

"Oh, sorry," said the other, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard if that's what you mean."

"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy.

Going directly to the front of the store to pay off before running toward the shop he knows would take forever, Ollivander's. The shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place and looked at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling.

For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. Knowing what was to come he suddenly made vote-face, looking at the surprised face of an old man who was standing before him, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter."It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it, it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close, that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where..." Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," He said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

Now Harry was starting to get annoyed by the old man and wanted this to end rapidly.

"Mister Ollivander the wand please."

"Ha, Yes, of course, mister Potter. Which is your wand arm?"

"We both know that you don't need all those things, I'm rather short on time, if you intent takes to make me lose mine, I will go somewhere else to buy a wand."

To say that Olllivenders was a little spoked by the sudden change of attitude would be a euphemism. When he didn't move Harry turn around and start walking toward the door. It was only after he opens it that he hears the noise of the old man's feet on the floor going deeper into the shop. He reappears a minute later with a box in hand.

"holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

When he sees the wand he could feel the slight pull of something in him hidden until then. Knowing it was the wand he took out the seven Galleon, take the box, and exit the shop under the confused gaze of the old man that was still processing the last scene. He knows that the wand had reacted to the boy but couldn't understand why he hadn't touched it and initiate the bound.

The time he comes back the shop was empty, seven shining coins on the counter.

It was during the time that he was roaming the Alley for the third time that he catches heads of the redhead. When the two rejoin, she passes to him a bag full of shrink supplies.

"Do you need me taking you back."

"No, I can take the bus."

"Great, I see you on the 1 September then, I must hurry, my little boy, wait for me at home!"

Without leaving the time to respond she heads toward the apparition point.

-You know, I'm rather thankful that it had turned this way, I can smell the spoiled brat from here.-

Shaking his head and put the extremely disappointing first encounter with his mother he directly goes to the leaky to change his clothes and go for the barkeeper and ask for tips to go to the ministry.

What followed was an equally disappointing visit, after directly flow to the atrium, past the security guard by telling him that he doesn't still have a wand. Taking a lift to the level 9 en encounter an unspeakable who lead him to the hall of prophecies. As expected the same orb was waiting to spot the same

S.P.T to A.P.W.B.D

Dark Lord

and (?) Harry Potter.

After hearing it be sure it was the same, he smashed it in front of the unspeakable before exiting the ministry, none the wiser that only one string was still linking him to his current identity, a string that would be cut of the very same night.