Chapter 6: Harry Potter's Diagon Alley Tour
To be called out by name by a complete stranger was a profound shock to Harry Potter.
He looked at the handsome older boy in front of him, trying to understand how this person could possibly recognize him. This wasn't like the Leaky Cauldron, where Hagrid had introduced him and a crowd of people had swarmed to greet him. This time, Hagrid hadn't said a word.
And yet, this boy had known his name instantly.
In Harry's eyes, the boy's black hair and dark robes didn't make him look gloomy. Instead, they seemed to accentuate his poised and dignified bearing. The boy's brown eyes were a very pale shade, and the look within them felt both gentle and strangely distant, almost dreamlike. The friendly smile on his face reminded Harry of the expressions of awe and excitement he had seen on the faces of the wizards in the pub.
Putting together Hagrid's earlier words with the fact that this boy knew who he was, Harry took the offered hand, feeling a strange mix of confusion and curiosity. "Hello, Mr. Welles."
Hagrid beamed, adding, "This is Ryan Welles. The most powerful Seer of our time, and the most gifted prophet. And, of course, your fourth-year senior."
"Not fourth-year, Hagrid," Ryan corrected with a smile. "By the time Harry starts, I'll be in my fifth year." He turned his pale eyes back to Hagrid. "Actually, three days ago, I saw you speaking with an Acromantula. You mentioned you had a great task to perform. I was wondering what it could be, and if you needed any help. Turns out you were bringing Harry home."
Ryan was, of course, recalling his recent intel.
"Aye, I did go see Aragog before I left..." Hagrid admitted, giving a little jump of surprise that had long since become a reflex. Although he hadn't told a soul about his visit, hearing Ryan know about it no longer delivered a true shock. "Just like I said, Harry," he said, shaking his head with a helpless air. "Ryan's the best Seer in a century. Knows all sorts o' things beforehand. It's just plain unfair, is what it is."
Harry nodded, completely agreeing. Then a question popped into his head. "What's an Acromantula?"
"Just a gentle magical creature, is all," Hagrid said vaguely.
Hearing Hagrid's definition of "gentle," Harry suddenly remembered that on their way here, Hagrid had mentioned casually that he'd always wanted to own a dragon.
Ryan, well aware that Hagrid's views on creatures were not exactly conventional, saw that Harry was about to press the issue and skillfully changed the subject. "Are you two here to get money for Harry?"
"That's right! Harry's got a whole list of things he needs to buy. We're... just here for the gold," Hagrid answered quickly.
Ryan noticed Hagrid's eyes dart away as he spoke. So, Hagrid has another task here, but he can't talk about it, he concluded. He didn't ask any more questions and, after bidding them farewell, headed into the depths of Diagon Alley to purchase some new amulets, materials, and potions for himself, along with a few carefully chosen gifts for the Hogwarts professors and staff.
Building good relationships with the faculty was the real required course for a successful Hogwarts career. Unfortunately, many young wizards never realized it. They tended to keep their professors at a distance, and even the most brilliant students rarely managed to build a rapport with all of them. Ryan had always believed that the exceptional faculty and the Hogwarts library were the school's greatest treasures, the true legacy of a thousand years.
After a long "shopping ceremony" through Diagon Alley, Ryan's purse of Galleons had shrunk to just over four hundred. As he was about to leave, he ran right into Hagrid again, this time carrying a large owl cage, with Harry trailing beside him.
"Hagrid? Have you taken up raising owls now?"
"Oh, no, of course not! This is a birthday present for young Harry here."
"Ryan, you should've seen the Muggles who raised him," Hagrid said, his voice thick with emotion. "Thoroughly Muggles, the lot of 'em! Didn't just disbelieve in magic, they also..." Hagrid sniffed loudly. "They made Harry live in a cupboard! An' they never even told him about Hogwarts! It's an outrage, is what it is!"
"So Harry's never gotten a birthday present?" Ryan asked.
"Never," Hagrid confirmed. "I saw how much he liked this owl on the way here, so I bought it for him."
Ryan could clearly see Harry blush with embarrassment. He smiled and said intentionally, "I'm afraid I didn't get you a birthday present either, Harry."
"Oh, you don't have to..." Harry stammered quickly.
"I think I must," Ryan said with a laugh. He turned to Hagrid. "What else does Harry need?"
"We've bought everything on the list. All that's left is a wand. Ollivander has an agreement with Hogwarts, seven Galleons for a first-year's wand. And it's better if Harry buys his first wand himself."
"Of course," Ryan nodded. "The wand chooses the wizard. I shouldn't interfere with that. Any suggestions for another gift, then?"
"Well, there is one thing," Hagrid said thoughtfully. "Harry's worried about being sorted into Slytherin. What do you think?"
Harry looked at Ryan with a hopeful gaze. It was clear that during their shopping trip, Hagrid had given him a thorough briefing on the abilities of the century's greatest Seer.
This question again... Ryan felt an urge to scratch his head. He had no real intel on the matter, but years of playing the master prophet had honed his instincts. He first applied the special effects: his gaze became more distant and unfocused, and a faint, pearlescent shimmer seemed to coat his eyes.
While maintaining a placid smile, Ryan's mind raced, digging through the deep archives of his memory. He found the answer: the main trio were all Gryffindors. He also remembered them winning so many last-minute points that they practically owned the House Cup.
He began to speak slowly, his voice low and resonant. "A lost boy is filled with uncertainty for the future. But he need not worry. He is destined to walk with courage and begin an adventure worthy of legend."
As Ryan finished, Hagrid clapped Harry so hard on the shoulder that Ryan was sure he saw the boy shrink an inch.
"What does that mean?" Harry asked, completely lost.
"Can't tell ya! It's a surprise," Hagrid said mysteriously. "Come on, we'd best get you to Ollivander's for that wand."
Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
Inside, Garrick Ollivander fondly recalled and asked after Harry's parents, greeted Hagrid warmly, and then turned his pale, moon-like eyes to Ryan.
"Ryan. Ryan Welles. Applewood, fourteen inches, with a dragon heartstring core," Ollivander recited. "A powerful wand, without a doubt. Suited for a wizard with high ideals and a grand vision." His tone was soft, yet it carried an immense weight. "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Welles. I always knew you would achieve great things. I simply did not anticipate that you would possess such a powerful gift for prophecy."
Ollivander's voice shifted subtly. "But high ideals do not always lead to good endings, Mr. Welles."
"Master Ollivander," Ryan replied, his voice firm and clear, "to give all regrets and injustices the ending they deserve is the very reason I study magic." His words were filled with a righteous conviction. After all, he truly did want to change the wizarding world for the better. The fact that he had to put on a show in the process, forcing him to accept the awe and respect of the wizarding community, was merely an unfortunate, tear-filled necessity.
Both Harry and Hagrid couldn't help but stare at Ryan, struck by the sheer force of his youthful conviction. It was a spirit powerful enough to inspire love in any heart that valued justice and courage, and to make those who dealt in shadows and schemes shrink away in shame.
Ollivander let out a small, dry laugh. "Applewood wands have another trait. Their owners possess great charisma and can easily inspire others. But wizards like you, Mr. Welles... in the last century, there have been... two."
He said no more on the matter, turning instead to measure Harry for his wand.
Ryan knew exactly what Ollivander meant. One of those two was the man who, in a single summer in Godric's Hollow, had utterly captivated the greatest wizard of the century. The other, he assumed, was Voldemort, before the disfiguring Horcruxes had shattered his mind.
So, my predecessors have walked this path before me and blocked it at both ends. The Headmaster's trust in me is still very much in question, he sighed internally.
He watched as Harry was finally united with his destined wand and heard Ollivander's commentary about expecting great things from him. A stray thought popped into his head: what if Ollivander said that to every young wizard who came into his shop? The ones who achieved greatness would praise Ollivander's foresight for the rest of their lives, and those who amounted to nothing would be too embarrassed to ever admit that Ollivander had said the same thing to them.
The logic is a perfect, self-sustaining loop.
Just as they were about to step out of the shop, Ryan turned back.
"Master Ollivander," he said, his voice clear and sharp, cutting through the dusty silence. "Those two you mentioned... it wasn't that their charisma was boundless. It's because we are wizards. A wizard's strength lies in knowledge, and a wizard's charisma stems from power."