Adventures In Space And Time

Chapter Eight

Diagon Alley looked almost exactly as I had pictured it, cluttered storefronts flanking a crumbling cobblestone street.
Men and women in robes and cloaks strolled up and down the street, peering in shop windows. A man in scarlet robes shoved past carrying a stack of cauldrons. Two kids standing in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies squabbled over which of them would be the better seeker. Two girls walked across the street carrying sundaes from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor.

I may have been turning a circle to take it all in when I was jerked from my awestruck daze by the sound of Clayton clearing his throat beside me.

"Earth to fanboy, can we get a move on? You're getting weird looks," he said, a bit too loudly.

I turned back to him and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry... It's just, I've always dreamed of coming here."
He smirked. "So have I, but you don't see me acting like a kid."
He started walking down the street, still smirking. I rolled my eyes and followed.

Our walk down Diagon Alley consisted mostly of me dashing off the check out a shop window every few seconds while Clayton muttered about my unhealthy obsession with fandoms... I couldn't help it. Everywhere I turned, I saw something new, something I had been reading about for years. It was too much to take in all at once.

After about five more minutes of this, Clayton had had enough. He yelled "All right, that's it!" before grabbing me by the arm and dragging me away from the front window of Eeylops Owl Emporium. I shook him off, saying "What's the big deal?"

The steely glare he fixed me with froze my indignation in my throat.

"The big deal is that you seem to be losing focus," he growled, "Do you even want to get home?"

"Yeah, of course I do, but does that mean I can't enjoy myself?" I muttered, temper rising.

"I'm not saying don't enjoy yourself, just do it faster. We have things to do."

"We do, do we? And what if I don't want to leave? What if I don't actually want to go home? What's so good about home?"

Clayton stopped. He had been getting ready to say something, maybe even hit me, but, he froze, face stuck in a glare so ugly I was surprised I wasn't dead. His hand strayed to the opening of his jacket and I began to fear I was about to find out why you don't piss off a man with knives...

I had struck a nerve...

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting your planned vacation to a magical land?" he spat, so vehemently I actually stepped back, "If that's the case, then go. Enjoy yourself. I don't need you. I only saved you because I thought you could help me find my friends. But, if you don't want to help, fine," he stabbed a finger at Gringotts, "Go get your stupid wand and leave. I can do this on my own."

We were so busy yelling at each other we didn't notice there was a man walking up to us until he said "Um... Sirs... If this is a marital dispute I may be able to he-"

Clayton and I rounded on him and in unison yelled "I'M NOT GAY!"

The poor man was so startled he nearly tripped backward and then ran away with a mumbled "S-Sorry!"

Clayton and I glanced at each other, anger fading to surprise.

"Were we seriously bickering like a married couple?" I said, half under my breath.

"I guess so..." he murmured in reply, scratching the back of his neck, "Listen, I'm sorry about what I said earlier, I was just pissed because I feel like it's up to me to bring my friends home... But, I don't think I could do it alone," he stuck out a hand, "Truce?"

I shook his hand.

"Truce. And, I'm the one who should be apologizing, I got pissed off over nothing. Let's go get that wand."

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I'd love to say that after that it went perfectly, but no. That would be a lie.

It started going downhill again the moment we walked into Gringotts.

First, the knives Clayton had on him set off some sort of magical metal detector. Clayton made up some crazy story about how he was a muggle born, and before he realized he had magic, he had broken his leg and had to have a metal bar put into it. The goblin by the door didn't seem to believe him, but, he let him in anyway.

Then, we realized that we didn't know the number of the vault the Elder Wand was kept in, and we couldn't just ask, because it wasn't common knowledge that it had been taken from Dumbledore's tomb. Clayton eventually just pulled out the psychic paper, quickly muttered, "We're here for the wand," and slid the paper over the counter. The Goblin facing us read it over and nodded slowly. "So... you were sent by misters Edward and Prince to collect the Elder Wand and take it to an unspecified location for safekeeping," he observed in a gravelly voice, " And, the owners of the vault were unable to come for the wand themselves as they were," he looked at the paper again, "'dreadfully ill' Is that correct?"

Clayton gave me a look that said How am I supposed to know? and answered, "Yeah."

"Very well," the goblin muttered, "Everything seems to be in order. Angluff will show you to your vault."

A short goblin (well, I should say, shorter) stepped forward and motioned us to follow him through the gate to the vaults.

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The cart we were riding whizzed down the track, heading deeper into the vaults. Clayton looked like he was enjoying the ride... I was not. I had gotten motion sick the moment the cart had gone around the first corner. Normally, I never got motion sick, but, I guess there's something about magic carts going a hundred miles an hour around very sharp corners that my stomach does not agree with. I kind of hoped this meant I was a dragon slayer, because if I wasn't, this was really embarrassing. I tried to lean over the side without falling off while Clayton died laughing at my sickness and treated the whole thing like a roller coaster.

Finally, we slid to a stop.

Clayton grinned. "Well, that was fun," he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes. I, for my part glared and did my best to give him an obscene hand gesture without falling over. I was still too nauseous to stand, so, without missing a beat, Clayton wrapped my arm around his shoulders and helped me off the cart.

When we both landed on solid ground, he looked back at the goblin, who was still sitting in his seat.

"Oi, aren't you supposed to take us to the vault?" he called over his shoulder. The goblin said nothing. "Could you at least show us which vault it is?"

The goblin again didn't say anything. He simply grinned evilly and started the cart rolling. While Clayton turned back and started cursing after him, I looked up from where I had been trying not to throw up on our shoes... And all color drained from my face.

"Uhh... Clayton..." I tapped him on his shoulder, "You may want to see this..."

He turned forward and his eyebrows shot up as he yelled "Son of a bi-!"

Luckily, the last part was drowned out as a deafening roar shook the cavern.

I suddenly realized that the goblins hadn't fallen for our trick... They had simply gone along with it...

So they could let the dragons finish us off...