Disclaimer: I'm just playing around with JK Rowling's characters, having a bit of fun while knowing that her stories are at least a hundred times more brilliant than mine.
Author's Note: This is the sequel to The Godfather Part I - Decisions. I recommend you read that story first; otherwise this one won't make much sense.
I'm very grateful to my wonderful beta readers CornedBee, Whimsy and Jo Wickaninnish for helping me improve this. Thanks to you all!
The Godfather Part II – Morals
Chapter One – Diagon Alley
Harry Potter threw what had to be the
twentieth anxious glance in the mirror, nervously pressing down his
jet-black fringe. It was vitally important that the thin scar on his
forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt, was concealed before he left.
He now regretted that he didn’t have a baseball cap like his
friend Billy; it would have hidden the scar perfectly.
Harry usually didn’t care whether
people saw his scar. He lived with his godfather, whom he called
Paddy, in a Muggle town, and Muggles didn’t know about the
scar. Paddy said that all wizards knew about the scar and its story,
though, but Harry was not planning to find out whether that was true
today. Today he was going to Diagon Alley, but he was not supposed to
be recognised. He flattened his fringe one last time and took a few
steps away from the mirror. Unsure, he paused for a moment before
opening the door to the living room.
Harry had never been to Diagon Alley
and he was convinced that he was the only eight-year-old wizard who
suffered this fate. Paddy sometimes went to Diagon Alley, but Harry was
never allowed to go with him. Instead, Remus or Aunt Andromeda and
Uncle Ted would come over to watch over him. This time, though, the
roles were reversed. Paddy was having a boring meeting with his boss,
while Harry would go to Diagon Alley.
Harry took some Floo Powder from the
flowerpot on the table next to the hearth and tossed it expertly in
the fire. He had travelled to Uncle Remus’ by Floo powder dozens of times, so he
knew exactly what he had to do. He stepped into the warm, green fire,
enjoying the tingling feeling in his skin, before tucking his elbows
in and closing his eyes.
“DIAGON ALLEY!” he
At once, he was whisked away by the
green mass. He marvelled at his luck. Usually, Paddy had someone
watch over Harry whenever he had to go away without him, but this
time, Paddy was only gone for two hours and had decided to leave
Harry alone at home. Moreover, he had undone the security on the
living room fire, to enable Harry to call Remus if anything
happened. Harry knew that if he was caught at leaving the house, he
would never be allowed alone again, but he wasn’t planning to
Excitement flooded Harry’s veins
as he was spat out by the fire into a big room he had never been to
before. To his right, a door was wide open, showing a cobbled road,
over which many wizards and witches in colourful robes were walking.
He had made it: this was Diagon Alley.
Two of the walls of the room Harry had
arrived in were lined with fireplaces. It seemed that the ones in his
wall were for arrivals, while people departed through the ones in the
opposite wall. In front of the fireplace next to Harry’s, a
woman and four children were staring expectantly into the fire, as if
they were waiting for more people to get out.
In the middle of the room, behind a
large table, a very old wizard was sitting. He was wearing faded
robes that had once been dark blue, and he had a small white beard
and a very large white moustache, but almost no hair on the top of his
head. The man was looking curiously at Harry, and Harry quickly
started to move towards the exit.
“Hey you, boy!” the man
said, and Harry stopped and looked round, pressing down his fringe
with his hand. “Are you all alone?”
Although Harry felt it would be polite
to answer, he was a bit frightened by the tone of the man’s
voice. Would he send him back home? When the man made to stand up,
Harry backed away, quickly turning around. He pushed his way through
the family, the father of which had just arrived, and ran outside,
keeping one hand over his fringe.
At once, Harry forgot the wizard in the
Floo House. Diagon Alley was more amazing than he had ever imagined.
Dozens of wizards, dressed in colourful robes, just like the ones
Professor Dumbledore always wore, were walking down the street
between the small shops. They were chattering happily, pointing out
items in the shops or showing each other what they had bought. A
father with two small children attracted Harry’s attention; the
children both had a large ice cream that flashed in different
colours, and they were heading for the magical pet shop. Harry wished
Paddy had taken him to Diagon Alley when he was that young.
It was no time for mourning, though.
Harry was in Diagon Alley, he was alone, he could do whatever he
wanted, and he was not about to ruin this day. He was going to
Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Every two weeks, on Thursday afternoon,
an owl delivered the latest advertisements from the shops in Diagon
Alley. Every two weeks, Harry pulled out the leaflet from Quality
Quidditch Supplies out of the stack and studied it carefully. Every
two weeks, he spotted an amazing broom and asked Paddy if he could
have it, but Paddy always told him he would have to wait until his
birthday or Christmas.
Today, at least, Harry would get to see
that wonderful shop, even if he couldn’t have anything from it.
He had memorised the small map that was printed on every leaflet of
Quality Quidditch Supplies, so he knew he would have to walk towards
Gringotts. Confidently, Harry started walking.
Even though he knew his destination,
and also knew that he didn’t have much time, he couldn’t
help stopping every few minutes to gape at the shops left and right.
Compared to this, the Muggle shops in the town where Harry lived were
very boring. They didn’t sell collapsible cauldrons,
Sneakoscopes or venomous plants, nor did they accept silver Sickles
or golden Galleons.
Just as Harry was staring into a shop
called “Ingenious Invisibility Implements,” which didn’t
seem to contain anything at all, he heard a familiar voice behind
“So I just told her, that’s
nonsense, I said,” sounded a booming voice. “He can’t
have been there, or we would’ve known, wouldn’t we?”
Harry froze in fear. There was no
mistake possible: quickly walking in Harry’s direction was
Uncle Ted. Uncle Ted was a very friendly man, but he was big and
strong, and he always agreed with Sirius on the rules that were set.
If Harry was caught by Uncle Ted, the future didn’t look bright
So Harry ran. He bumped into a woman
but didn’t stop to apologise. All he wanted was to put as much
distance as possible between him and Uncle Ted and then hide. As the
shops flashed past him, the huge building of Gringotts ahead grew
larger and larger, and he knew he was nearing Quality Quidditch
Supplies. Unfortunately, he also knew that if Uncle Ted had already
seen him, the first place he would search for Harry was Quality
Angrily, Harry realised that he would
not get the chance to see his favourite shop today, and that if he
was caught, he would probably never see it at all until he was a
grown-up. A tear leaked from his eyes, but he swept it away as he
ran. To his left was a small street, and he ran into it. The street
was quieter and darker than Diagon Alley. There were shops left and
right, but they were decorated in black and dark green or blue rather
than in bright colours.
Harry stopped running and turned
around. Uncle Ted was nowhere to be seen, but neither was Diagon
Alley. Harry knew it was just around the corner, but the dark, small
street and the filthy buildings looming over him suddenly made him
feel very alone and lost. If only he knew that Uncle Ted had passed,
he would be able to get back and travel home.
Another tear rolled down Harry’s
cheek. He rubbed his eyes and thought of the safe living room back at
home. Then a hand grasped his shoulder. Harry started and looked up
into the eyes of an old witch, her face pale and dirty. She smiled
nastily at him, showing her yellow teeth, and Harry noticed that her
breath smelled unpleasantly. Still holding a firm grasp on his
shoulder, the witch brought a hand to Harry’s forehead and
pushed his fringe away.
Horror-struck, Harry realised he hadn’t
taken care of his fringe when he was running. Now the witch saw his
scar, and that was something Paddy had always warned him about. Harry
was not allowed to show his scar to strange wizards and witches.
“You’re Harry Potter,”
the witch whispered.
Harry pulled himself free, dodged the
arm of the witch and started running in the direction of Diagon
Alley. He heard the witch shriek and ran even harder. Diagon Alley
and Uncle Ted were just around the corner; safety was near.
Harry knocked into something very solid
and almost fell over backwards, but two bony hands grasped his
arms. A tall, thin man was holding him, looking slightly surprised. Harry
looked over his shoulder and saw the witch running towards him. He
looked back at the man in front of him, who looked like a skeleton
dressed in black robes, his eyes sunken in his pale, hollow face. The man released one of Harry’s
arms, and Harry quickly flattened his fringe.
“He’s mine!” the
witch shrieked behind Harry.
The man’s thin lips curled, and he pulled Harry closer to
him, so that Harry could feel the man’s ribs through the thin layer of robes. “Don’t think so. I found him.”
The witch finally arrived and pulled
her wand, pointing it right at the man’s face. She was breathing heavily and her wand hand was shaking, but she seemed ready to blast the man into pieces. The man wasn’t moved, however.
“Calm down,” he said, reaching out and pushing the wand down with one of his bony hands.
“Such a small boy, he’s not worth making a scene now, is he? If you want, you can buy him from me.”
Shocked, Harry stared at the man. How
could he be sold? Paddy always said that Harry was worth more than
anything in the world, and Paddy had a lot of gold and a big house.
However, the man who was holding Harry seemed perfectly serious about
it. Harry looked back at the witch, who revealed her yellow teeth
again in a ugly smile, nodding.
Five minutes later, the deal was made.
The witch handed seven Sickles to the man, then magically bound
Harry to her.
“Come along, boy,” she said
in a creaking voice. “I know someone who will be very happy to
Author's Note: Thank you for sticking with me and reading Part II. I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Chapter 2 will arrive soon!