Death is but the Next Great Adventure

Diagon Alley & The Boy Who Lived

Chapter Summary: Harry goes to Diagon Alley. Harry goes to Gringotts, discovers his new tittle, and takes back his vault key from his magical guardian. He then meets Draco at Madam Malkin's. When Harry returns home, he makes it clear to the Dursleys that they no longer held power over him.

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Waking up after dying is as horrible as one would assume. His companion said that after the first time, the effects would be far less severe, but Harry no longer thought that that was much of a consolation anymore. It felt like Harry had been hit by several trains, thrown off the top of a sky scraper, and then force to chug multiple bottles of bleach at once. But hey, at least it seemed that his vision had improved. Literally die and come back to life just for some good o' 20/20.

Harry spent his first day with his new abilities in bed, nursing the worst death-hangover imaginable and summoning food and water when he needed it, which was often. Harry slept, ate, and groaned the day away, not even caring when his relatives kicked his door and snapped at him to start his chores.

On the second day, however, Harry was better than ever and itching with excitement—though he'd never let it show on the outside. He dressed in his best clothes—thank you, wandless magic and immortal being who cared about Harry's wellbeing—pinched a few notes from Petunias purse, and took several different forms of muggle transportation to London before walking the rest of the way to the Leaky Cauldron.

Harry didn't look at any of the witches or wizards within the pub as he calmly made his way straight for the back exit where the brick wall was that would take him to Diagon Alley. He would draw enough attention as it was by being so young and unescorted, he didn't need anyone finding out about his . . . past quite yet. There was a decent notice-me-not charm on him, but that wouldn't stop a full grown wizard if they were determined enough.

Harry followed his companion's explicit instructions and tapped his bare finger against the appropriate bricks and watched with internal fascination as the bricks shifted and moved until Harry stood before an archway that led into a bustling and busy Alley filled with shops and robe-clad wizards and witches. Ever since his birthday, Harry had noticed how his magic was much calmer, yet far quicker to answering his call. His training with Death had made Harry aware of his magical core, so it was strange feeling just how immense an 'insignificant amount' of Deaths magic had felt once added to his own.

Harry didn't dawdle at the entrance, not wanting anyone to see him and wonder why a boy who looks new to the world of magic would come here unescorted. Apparently, muggle-born students were sent their Hogwarts letters in the form of a member of staff arriving at their door to explain to the child and its parents that it was magic. Then the staff member would bring the student to Diagon Alley so that they could get their supplies.

Although Harry wasn't muggle-born, he still wouldn't have had any idea about this place without his companion. Harry briefly wondered how in the world he would have gotten the required supplies had he not already known about this place. Would a member of staff still visit him? Would he have to explain that yes, he already knew, and no, would not need to be escorted to Diagon Alley?

He was instructed swiftly through Diagon Alley and straight to the wizarding bank, Gringotts. Harry kept his focus singular as he walked up to the first unoccupied goblin teller he could find. The bank only had a few people around, but Harry couldn't get a good look at them because of their own notice-me-not spells—not that Harry wanted to see them really.

The goblin he approached, Bogrod, glanced disdainfully at Harry and then went back to what he was going without saying anything. Knowing what he knew about goblins, Harry felt quite amused by the quick dismissal. Goblins didn't like nor trust wizards and tended to treat every one of them with initial resentment. His deathly companion spoke quite fondly of the highly intelligent little creatures, so Harry felt nothing but amusement towards the otherwise rude gesture.