The Keeper of the Keys

Hagrid had woken up early that day to care of the miscellaneous chores left to him by Professor Kettleburn, who taught Care of Magical Creatures. Today, he and fang were going to make a run into the Forbidden Forest to collect some acromantula venom, which he would then use to ward off the streelers. The blasted color-changing poisonous snails had been ruining his pumpkin patch for weeks.

After that, he was summoned up to see Professor Dumbledore, who apparently had a task for him to complete.

Albus Dumbledore sat calmly behind his desk, reading over a letter addressed to him by Sirius. As Hagrid entered the room, he looked up with a gentle smile.

"Ah, Hagrid. Lemon drop?" Albus offered a bowl filled with lemon drops to Hagrid, who smiled, "Thank ye, Professor Dumbledore, sir!"

Hagrid obliged, and reached out his great hand nearly emptying the bowl of its contents - much to Dumbledore's dismay.

With a sigh, Dumbledore produced a key, and a handwritten note addressed to an administrator at Gringotts bank.

"Hagrid, an old friend of mine, Nicolas Flamel, has asked me to safeguard an item of his here in Hogwarts. He fears that it's being targeted, and would be safer kept in my hands than at Gringotts."

"Wha' item would'at be, professor?" asked Hagrid curiously.

"It's no great secret, Hagrid. Though, it would be best if the students don't know about it. No need to alarm them, or their parents. After all, Hogwarts is still the safest place to be. Its the Philosopher's Stone, Hagrid. Nicolas is an Alchemist, he and his wife are the only ones who have ever successfully made it in the past."

Hagrid, not knowing precisely what a philosopher's stone was, could only nod his head sagely.

"What Vault am I to be picking it up from then, Professor?"

"Vault 713. While you're there if you happen to run into Sirius and young Harry, do be kind enough to relay my thanks to them for their letter? It was most informative."

Hagrid nearly jumped to his feet in surprise - he had almost forgotten!

"Harry Potter's comin' ter Hogwarts this year ain't he, Professor! Blimey, I'd just 'bout forgot, it's his birfday today isn't it?"

"Yes, indeed. I think, Hagrid, a proper gift is in order for young Harry. I'll let you handle the details. Off you go, Hagrid!"

"Thank ye, Professor! I'll be right back wit yer stone thing, sir! Don't you worry none!"

With that, Hagrid raced out of Dumbledore's office and back to his hut.

Dumbledore sat by himself, and after a moment it seemed he had aged quite a few more years. Exhaustion could be seen clouding his eyes, and he rubbed at his temples.

"Horcruxes... Tom, what have you done to yourself?" he mumbled.

With a great sigh, he waved his hands and a wand flew into his palm. Then, touching the tip of his wand to his temple, he pulled out what appeared to be a long glowing silvery strange that pulsated with light.

A silver dish floated through the air from an alcove, accompanied by an empty glass vial, into which Dumbledore deposited the silvery strand.

"So, this is the missing piece of the puzzle. After all these years, Tom, I think I finally have the key. But how many, Tom? How many did you make?"

The dark and troubled look on his face was accentuated by the dark and moody lighting of his office, which seemed to change to reflect his mood.

---

Harry rushed out of bed in a great hustle and bustle of excitement. It was his birthday today! Basil stubbornly remained asleep and curled up around the warm spot Harry left behind on the bed. Snakes are, after all, cold-blooded creatures who love the heat.

Harry's mad rush took him into the kitchen where Sirius greeted him with a raised eyebrow over the top of a newspaper.

"Good morning, son. Happy Birthday!" with a wave of his hand, the kitchen table was covered with a variety of breakfast foods, from sausages to pancakes and biscuits and gravy and chicken legs and small pies.

Harry threw himself into Sirius's arms. "Thank you for Basil! I love him! He's brilliant!"

"Basil is his name, is it? Short for Basilisk?" Questioned a chuckling Sirius.

Harry suddenly felt a bit concerned. He knew about the bad reputation that Parseltongues had - he couldn't bear the thought of Sirius not loving him as much. What if being a Parseltongue meant Harry would end up in Slytherin, like Voldemort?

"Hey, dad... How - why did you get me a snake?" Asked Harry, hesitantly.

"That's obvious, isn't it? You're a parselmouth. I've heard you talking in your sleep." said Sirius, completely unperturbed.

"You... knew?" Said Harry, bewildered.

"Of course I knew, Harry. You're my godson." Said Sirius, sensing something odd in Harry's tone.

"What if it means that - what if I end up in Slytherin... like him?" whispered Harry.

Sirius grabs Harry by his shoulders and looks him in the eyes.

"Harry James Potter. You're my Godson. You're the heir of house black. And I will always be proud of you, son. Always. So, will your mother and father. If you end up in Slytherin, then Slytherin will have gained a wonderful new addition. Remember son, Voldemort may have been in Slytherin. But so was my brother, and my brother gave up his life so that one day, Voldemort would be defeated. And Peter Pettigrew - a Gryffindor - is our prime suspect for betraying your parents and JOINING Voldemort. The houses at Hogwarts are a reflection of the best qualities a person has - remember that. The best qualities - not the worst."

Harry and Sirius hugged each other then and Harry felt quite at peace. "Now, are you going to eat those sausages, or do I have to get Basil down here to eat them for you?"

Harry grinned and tucked into the food on the table.

"Now - you've got your letter, correct?" Asked Sirius.

"Upstairs. I packed it into my trunk last night." Said Harry through a mouthful of sausage.

"Excellent - you've gotten your books from the family library, yes?"

"Yep!" spouted Harry between mouthfuls.

"That leaves your wand, school robes, and a visit to Gringotts then. How about we set out for Diagon Alley after breakfast then? You can even bring Basil along with you."

Harry was so excited he nearly spat out his food but instead started choking. A helpful Kreacher popped up behind him and gave him a couple of hard pats on the back and a glass of water.

"Thank you, Kreacher!" Said Harry, when he could breathe again.

"Be sure to eat a proper breakfast, and then we'll get on our way, alright?" Grinned Sirius at Harry's antics.

Harry nodded vigorously in reply.

---

"This is it," said Sirius, coming to a halt on the sidewalk, "the Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place, you know, Harry. "

It was a tiny, grubby-looking pub. If Sirius hadn't pointed it out, Harry wouldn't have noticed it was there. The people hurrying by on the busy London street didn't glance at it. Their eyes slid from the big book shop on one side to the record shop on the other as if they couldn't see the Leaky Cauldron at all. In fact, Harry had the most peculiar feeling that only he and Sirius could see it. Before he could mention this, Sirius had stopped him and knelt down on one knee to look him in the eyes.

"Son, I've kept you away from this place - from the magical world at large for the majority of your life. When you were a babe, Dumbledore wanted you to stay with your Aunt and Uncle - to not even be aware of magic at all - but that was foolishness. I needed to prepare you for this world - so I've taught you all I could think to teach you. But, it isn't enough to prepare you for this, Harry. You're far more famous than I think you understand - but after today, I think you just might understand a little bit of what I'm talking about. Fame is a burden Harry - before long it will make you feel as old and tired as the Leaky Cauldron itself. But it is also a gift, Harry. Like magic, it can be a source of great power. Use it well."

Without another word, Sirius spun on his heel and dragged Harry into the Leaky Cauldron.

For a famous place, it was very dark and shabby. A few old women were sitting in a corner, drinking tiny glasses of sherry. One of them was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter stopped when they walked in. Everyone seemed to know Sirius; they waved and smiled at him, and the bartender reached for a glass, saying, "The usual, Sirius?"

"Can't, Tom, I'm taking young Harry here to get his school supplies," said Sirius, clapping his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Good Lord," said the bartender, Tom, peering at Harry, "is this -- can this be -- ?"

The Leaky Cauldron had suddenly gone completely still and silent.

"Bless my soul," whispered the old bartender, "Harry Potter. . . what an honor. "

He hurried out from behind the bar, rushed toward Harry and seized his hand, tears in his eyes.

"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back. "

Harry didn't know what to say. Everyone was looking at him. The old woman with the pipe was puffing on it without realizing it had gone out. Sirius was beaming.

Then there was a great scraping of chairs and the next moment, Harry found himself shaking hands with everyone in the Leaky Cauldron.

"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last. "

"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud. "

"Always wanted to shake your hand -- I'm all of a flutter. "

"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle. "

"I've seen you before!" said Harry, as Dedalus Diggle's top hat fell off in his excitement. "You bowed to me once in a shop."

"He remembers!" cried Dedalus Diggle, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? He remembers me!" Harry shook hands again and again -- Doris Crockford kept coming back for more.

A pale young man made his way forward, very nervously. One of his eyes was twitching.

Harry felt a sharp pain in his scar as he locked eyes with the young man.

"Professor Quirrell!" said Sirius. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, ignoring Harry's outstretched hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" Asked Harry with narrowed, suspicious, eyes.

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself. " He looked terrified at the very thought.

Something about this Professor Quirrell wasn't quite right. That feeling in his scar... it was just like... Harry's eyes widened at the thought.

But the others in the pub wouldn't let Professor Quirrell keep Harry to himself. It took almost ten minutes to get away from them all. At last, Sirius managed to make himself heard over the babble.

"I'm sorry everyone, we've got to get a move on, now. Come on, Harry. "

Doris Crockford shook Harry's hand one last time and Sirius led them through the bar and out into a small, walled courtyard, where there was nothing but a trash can and a couple of weeds sticking out of cracks in the cobblestone ground.

Sirius grinned at Harry.

"You ready, Harry? I'll be honest - I'm almost as excited to be showing you this place as you are to see it. I've been waiting for this day for a long time!"

Harry was staring behind him at the door leading into the Leaky Cauldron.

"Dad... that Professor Quirrell... Being near him made my scar hurt. Like with Uncle Regulus's room."

Sirius froze at this and looked at Harry in shock. "Are you sure? It wasn't any of the others in the room - it was Quirell who made your scar hurt? This is very serious, Harry. You must be certain."

"I'm sure. Dad, is Hogwarts going to be dangerous?" asked Harry with a sudden quiver in his voice.

"Harry, you're a very special boy in the world of wizards. I've kept you away from it for as long as I can, tried to prepare you for it... But, in the end, only by experiencing it will you come to know what I mean. I've told you how famous you are, and given your reception back there you should have a pretty clear idea of just how famous that is - but fame breeds danger, Harry. I can't always be there to protect you. No matter where you go, danger won't be far away. So, be vigilant. Believe in yourself, Harry. You're stronger than you know. As for Hogwarts - you should be as safe there as you would be anywhere else. Especially with Dumbledore there to protect you. Now, let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

Sirius began counting bricks in the wall above the trash can.

"Three up. . . two across. . . " he muttered. "Right, stand back, Harry. "

He tapped the wall three times with the point of his wand.

The brick he had touched quivered -- it wriggled -- in the middle, a small hole appeared -- it grew wider and wider -- a second later they were facing a large archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," said Sirius, "to Diagon Alley. "

He grinned at Harry's amazement. They stepped through the archway. Harry looked quickly over his shoulder and saw the archway shrink instantly back into a solid wall.

The sun shone brightly on a stack of cauldrons outside the nearest shop. Cauldrons -- All Sizes -- Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver -- Self-Stirring -- Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

Harry wished he had about eight more eyes. He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad. . . "

A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium -- Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand -- fastest ever -- " There were shops selling robes, shops selling telescopes and strange silver instruments Harry had never seen before, windows stacked with barrels of bat spleens and eels' eyes, tottering piles of spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon. . .

"Gringotts," said Sirius.

They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. Standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, was --

"Yeah, that's a goblin," said Sirius quietly as they walked up the white stone steps toward him. The goblin was about a head shorter than Harry. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and, Harry noticed, very long fingers and feet. He bowed as they walked inside. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these.

Just ahead of Sirius and Harry was a giant of a man, with a thick leather coat and bushy beard of bristling hair. He was walking towards a stern-looking Goblin when Sirius walked right up to him and tapped him on his back.

Hagrid turned around in surprise and stared at Sirius without recognizing him for a moment. Then, a burst of joy welled up in his eyes and the corners of his eyes squished together as he broke out in a huge grin.

"SIRIUS!" Bellowed Hagrid happily. Sirius and Hagrid hugged each other - though it looked more like Sirius was being engulfed by the giant of a person.

Harry stared in awe at Hagrid - after all, it was his first time meeting a half-giant. Or any kind of giant for that matter.

"An' this mus' be Harry, the little tyke! Well, I haven' seen yas since yer was a babe, Harry, but you've filled out quite a bit! Look just like yer dad, you do. 'ceptin' yer eyes o'course, y've got yer mother's eyes."

Harry grinned at that, and held out his hand, which Hagrid shook solemnly.

Sirius spoke up behind Hagrid, "What brings you to Gringotts, Hagrid? Albus, has you running errands again?"

"Ah... abou' that. It's about you know what, in the vault - you know which." Said Hagrid mysteriously.

Sirius blinked in surprise and then nodded solemnly. "In that case, do you want to tag along with Harry and me? We're off to his vault as well."

"Can' see any reason ter say no, can I?" Said Hagrid amiably.

Sirius and Harry made for the counter with Hagrid.

"Morning," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe. "

"You have his key, sir?"

"I do." Said Sirius from beside Hagrid.

Hagrid started emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The goblin wrinkled his nose. Harry watched the goblin on their right weighing a pile of rubies as big as glowing coals. Sirius

"Got it," said Hagrid at last, holding up a sealed letter. "An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen. "

The goblin read the letter carefully.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he, Sirius and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.

"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked.

"Can't tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that. "

Griphook held the door open for them. Harry, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in -- Hagrid with some difficulty -- and were off.

At first, they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way because Griphook wasn't steering.

Harry's eyes stung as the cold air rushed past them, but he kept them wide open. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late -- they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor.

"I never know," Harry called to Hagrid and Sirius over the noise of the cart, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"

"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick. "

He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.

"A Stalagmite is the result of accumulated minerals in water dripping down from the ceiling in the same spot over a long period of time. The water dries up or runs off into a stream over time, but leaves the minerals behind. It forms a spear-like mountain that increases in height over time. The same is true of Stalactites, though they are the results of minerals dripping and leaving bits behind which build up into a downward aiming spear." Said Sirius, helpfully.

"But which one's which?" Asked Hagrid, confused.

"Stalactites hold TIGHT to the ceiling. Stalagmites build-up like MIGHTY mountains."

Harry and Hagrid both grinned at each other and Harry helped Hagrid walk straight towards the door to Harry's vault.

"This vault was left to you by your parents, Harry. It's not the main Potter family vault, you'll get access to that when you're 17. But, until then, the money in this vault is yours. It gets replenished every year, and your tuition at Hogwarts and school supplies can all be bought using this money - and as long as you have enough in here you can buy anything else you'd like as well."

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts.

"All yours," smiled Hagrid.

All Harry's -- it was incredible. Hagrid and Sirius helped Harry pile some of it into a bottomless bag supplied by Sirius.

"The gold ones are Galleons," Sirius explained. "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough." Harry nodded. Hagrid turned to Griphook. "Right. Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"

Sirius and Harry rolled their eyes and grinned at this request.

"One speed only," said Griphook.

They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled around tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck.

Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.

"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.

"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.

"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.

Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Harry was sure, and he leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least -- but at first, he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was but knew better than to ask.

"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don't talk to me on the way back, it's best if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Harry didn't know where to run first now that he had a bag full of money. He didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that he was holding more money than he'd ever held in his whole life -- more money than most people ever hold.

"Might as well get yer uniform, I guess" said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, Sirius, I'd love ter accompany yeh, but would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts."

"I'll join you, Hagrid." Said Sirius sympathetically. "Go on in, Harry. We'll catch up in a bit."

Hagrid did still look a bit sick, so Harry nodded and entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous.

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.

"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 took 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. "

Harry was strangely reminded of Kreacher.

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

"No," said Harry.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," Harry said again, "Though I do want to try out when I get the chance."

"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 slightly embarrassed.

"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 say something a bit more interesting.

"I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid and Sirius were standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts. "

"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper," said Harry. He was liking the boy less and less every second.

"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage -- lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed. "

"I think he's brilliant," said Harry coldly.

"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.

"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.

Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Hagrid and Sirius had bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).

"What's up?" said Sirius.

"Nothing," Harry lied. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote.

Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some man-eating slug repellant, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).

Outside the Apothecary, Sirius and Hagrid both looked towards Ollivanders in anticipation.

"Just yer wand left -- A yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present." Said Hagrid.

Harry felt himself go red.

"You don't have to--"

"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at -- an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."

"Oh, but I've already got a snake, Hagrid."

Hagrid froze, a frown on his face. "Hmm. A snake? What'd you get a snake fer anyhow?"

"Oh..." Said Harry, shyly. "I'm a Parselmouth." Hagrid's eyes went wide in surprise, but he managed to quickly contain it.

"W-well then, yer still gonna be needin' an owl for mail and such. Let's go and get yeh set up with one." Hagrid walked briskly away, with a frown on his face.

Harry looked at Sirius with a sad expression. "Give him some time, Harry. It's a rare gift - he'll accept it soon enough. Look, he's still rushing over to grab you a birthday gift."

Harry soon cheered up.

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. He couldn't stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell.

"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Just Ollivanders left now -- only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand. "

A magic wand. . . this was what Harry had been really looking forward to.