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Chapter IV: Diagon Alley

(Daphne P.O.V)

"Come on, Daph," Tracey Davis called as the two of them walked side by side through the crowded streets of Diagon Alley, "Don't be mad, I said I'm sorry."

"It's fine Tracey," Daphne said with a deep breath trying to keep the passive-aggressiveness out of her voice, "Let's just get out of here as quickly as possible, I hate crowded spaces."

"I know, I know," Tracey said apologetically, "Look, I'm really sorry I woke up so late, I was just up all night talking to Blaise on the floo and I didn't realize how late it was. Forgive me?"

"There's nothing to forgive," Daphne said with a slight smile, it was hard for her to stay mad at her best friend for long. Her warm brown eyes always had a way of eating away at Daphne, and her shoulder-length curled auburn hair always made Tracey look like a ray of sunshine despite her gloomy days.

"Forgive me," Tracey insisted.

"Fine, I forgive you," Daphne said with a groan causing Tracey to let a small teasing smile show, "Come on now, we still have to buy all our textbooks from Flourish and Blotts and you already know there is going to be a line out the door."

"Don't be such a downer Daph," Tracey said swinging her arm around Daphne's neck, "Maybe we'll spot a cute boy while waiting in line. Then you and I could go on double dates, it would be so cute."

"I actually have no idea why I'm friends with you," Daphne said rolling her eyes as she began to walk away from Tracey.

"You love me," Tracey said catching up to her, ribbing her slightly with her elbow, "Just admit it."

Once again, Daphne let out a small chuckle as she shook her head, and together, the two Slytherin third-years began their march through Diagon Alley. Despite her rush, Tracey had still managed to force her into Gambol and Japes Wizarding Joke Shop, but only because while she herself wasn't a huge fan of pulling pranks, that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate seeing a good one. The two had also agreed to stop at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, as nothing in Daphne's opinion made a wait more bearable than a cone of mint-chocolate chip ice cream.

Finally, however, Flourish and Blotts was just within view, the only store left between her and her goal was Quality Quidditch Supplies. Quidditch, She thought to herself, What a stupid sport. She saw a group of students hovering around a broom that Daphne briefly managed to sneak a glance at and saw it was being called the Firebolt. Honestly, to this day Daphne couldn't understand the excitement people felt over the sport, yes, she would watch to go support her house team, and her little sister Astoria was border-line fanatical over the Caerphilly Catapults, and yet she had never found the sport entertaining.

Daphne was just mere meters away from the entrance to Flourish and Blotts when suddenly she slammed hard against the side of a person. Her mint-chocolate ice cream had spilled all over her new white blouse and she was absolutely furious. What kind of idiot just stands in the middle of the road! She thought to herself angrily, but before she could be allowed to fester in her frustration, she heard a voice call out, "Oh, uh, sorry about that."

The boy had offered her his hand. He was tall and tan, his complexion that of a Mediterranean sailor. His bright, green eyes were so magnetizing, and his messy black hair only drew more focus to the emerald pools. However, Daphne was in a bad mood and instead of accepting the help, she simply pushed herself off the ground ignoring the boy's hand as she stood. Soon she felt Tracey appear by her side and she heard the boy speak again, "Or don't accept my help, that's fine too."

He had an American accent, of that she was certain, and it sounded like it was from the east coast, but most certainly not a New York accent. That accent was very distinguishable, and Daphne had heard it a lot when she and the Davis' had spent a month in the mecca of America. Daphne simply looked down at her dirty shirt with a scowl before she heard the boy speak again, "Oh, didn't mean to mess up your shirt, here allow me, Scourgify."

Then, before Daphne could even regain her bearings, she heard Tracey speak in astonishment, "Holy Crap! You're Harry Potter!"

"Um," The boy said nervously, and it was in that moment that Daphne saw the lightning bolt scar that legend had described the Boy-Who-Lived having. Daphne couldn't help but stare at the well-built young man in disbelief as he smiled slightly, "Hi there."

Quickly Daphne watched as Harry knelt down and lifted his cap from the ground, dusting it off before placing it on his head once more, "No one is actually supposed to know that I'm here so if you could keep that information to yourself it would mean a lot."

"Where have you been?" Tracey asked in wonder, "There are so many rumors that you've been traveling around the country killing Dark Wizards, or that you've been attending Hogwarts all this time and using Polyjuice Potion to disguise your identity or-"

"Nope, no dark wizards, and no potions," Harry said with a laugh, "Just doing math mostly."

"Math?" Tracey asked in confusion.

"Well, enough about me," Harry said waving off the barrage of questions Daphne knew Tracey most certainly wanted to ask him, "What are your names? Also, do you both go to Hogwarts?"

"I'm Tracey Davis," her best-friend said eagerly, "And this bundle of Joy is the Ice Queen herself, Daphne Greengrass. And yeah, we're third years at Hogwarts."

"Oh, Daphne huh, that's a pretty name," Harry said with a smirk, "Tell you what Ice Princess, since it's my fault I ruined your Ice Cream, how about we go and get you another one on me, like a date, come on, it'll be fun."

"It's Ice Queen," Daphne said, she never really cared for the moniker, but if someone was going to use it, they could at least use it right.

"Sorry, I kinda like princess more," Harry said with a grin, "So what do you say love, Ice Cream?"

"Not a chance Potter," Daphne huffed, she wasn't sure what she was expecting of the Great Harry Potter, but clearly the celebrity status had gotten to his head. She had never met someone so forward and abrasive and she had no interest in such cocky displays.

Daphne had turned down plenty of guys before, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, even Malfoy had tried once, but never had she seen a boy react in such a way after being turned down. Most either walked off in a huff or boasted about their importance in an attempt to try and 'seduce' her, like that was supposed to really flick her switch, but Harry did none of those things. Instead, he simply shrugged, "Oh well, maybe next time."

Daphne was irritated by his blasé attitude, she didn't care that the great Harry Potter had asked her out, but it annoyed her that her rejection of him didn't even phase the boy. She gave one last exhausted huff, and began marching away from the boy, only hearing through distant earshot, "Sorry, she's just a little cranky today, she's not normally this rude."

"Don't apologize," Potter said calmly, "The coldness is sort of attractive, never had to play a game of hard to get before."

Daphne watched as Tracey gave a small chuckle before racing back to her side with a final call, "Well good luck with your shopping I guess, see you at Hogwarts!"

Harry just waved, and Daphne felt her hand twitch into a fist as he heard him call out, "See you around Davis, later Princess!"

"Don't call me that," Daphne grumbled and without sparing the Boy-Who-Lived a second-glance, she quickly began walking away, the absolutely flabbergasted stare of her best-friend peering into the side of her head.

(Harry P.O.V)

Harry had never seen a girl as beautiful as Daphne Greengrass before in his life. Her honey blonde hair, her icy blue eyes, her extremely attractive resting bitch face, Harry wasn't one for overexaggerating, but if someone had told him that there was nobody there and he had just imagined a girl that beautiful that would have made a lot more sense to him.

Harry and Tonks had arrived at Diagon Alley easily enough, Kreacher had apparated back home and was awaiting their call and together the two of them roamed the alley going from shop to shop. Their first stop was at Potage's Cauldron Shop. It was a store that made Harry groan internally as for all his magical training, Potions was never a subject he was good at. It even translated to his muggle classes as his chemistry class was the only one he had ever received a C in and it still irked him deeply. However, after purchasing the large pewter cauldron, he and Tonks stopped at Slug & Jiggers Apothecary for the potion-making ingredients adding to Harry's dismay. It wasn't that he didn't understand the theory of potion-making, he just wasn't much good at putting it into practice, and he was sure that Snivellus, as Sirius liked to call the Hogwarts Potions Master would have a field day with Harry's ineptitude.

After receiving all the potion material, Tonks ushered Harry over to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Tonks laughed at the name claiming it was a bit outdated nowadays, as robes were mostly used for special occasions. The rest of the time, students wore white oxfords with slim cut pants for males and skirts for women. The two signature pieces of Hogwarts were the ties and the grey Sweater vests, who according to Tonks would change the color of their trim depending on the house one was sorted into. Harry picked up his uniforms and watched as Tonks paid with Galleons no doubt taken from Sirius' vault in the American Branch of Gringotts. Harry and Sirius always made it a point of contention as Harry had learned his father and mother had a small fortune saved for him, but Sirius always insisted that as he was Harry's legal guardian, he would pay for everything, including monthly allowances when Hogwarts started. When Harry had asked why he needed the allowance, Sirius' response was simple, "How are you going to pull stellar pranks without the money to purchase the proper materials?"

Harry chuckled to himself remembering the conversation like it was yesterday as Tonks once again guided Harry through the crowds of Diagon Alley towards Twilfitt and Tatting's so that he could have some fresh clothes to wear during non-school hours. While Diagon Alley was absolutely stunning, with its cobblestoned alleyways and buzzing town squares and market stalls, Harry was having a hard time enjoying all of it as he constantly had to keep one hand on his head ensuring that his hat didn't fly away and subsequently reveal his identity to the world.

However, after Tonks had spent nearly an hour and a half tossing clothes into Harry's fitting room to try on, they had eventually settled on a few 'dashing' outfits and finally left Twilfitt and Tatting's exhausted. They were so close to the final stop on their list, Flourish and Blotts when Tonks saw her favorite store in all of Diagon Alley and instantly the plans went off the rails. Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment was the favorite shop for many Aurors as it contained all sorts of magical equipment like Dragon Hide armor, (Though it was extremely expensive even by Black Vault Standards), Moon Charts, Compasses, Omnioculars, and even a foe-glass, which was another extremely expensive piece of equipment.

Tonks bolted inside to check out the new stuff, but not feeling the need to overcrowd the place, even more, she had whispered to Harry, "Stay right here, I'll be out in a jiffy."

Harry nodded, but as soon as the bubblegum pink-haired girl departed, instantly Harry made a B-Line for Quality Quidditch Supplies. The reason why was simple, the brand new Firebolt. Harry wasn't dumb enough to fight through the crowds to get a better look at it, but he had found a small clearing he could sneak some glances at the sleek broom from afar. He was greatly enjoying his daydream about Flying around on that broom for his and Sirius' favorite team, Ballycastle Bats when the epitome of beauty herself had bumped into him.

Harry wasn't sure why, maybe it was the challenge, maybe it was the strength she had projected, maybe it was the fact that his celebrity status seemingly meant nothing to her, but the moment she had walked away, Harry was completely encapsulated by her. He wasn't sure how, but one day he would get the Ice Princess to go out with him. Harry chuckled at the thought as he remembered the stories from Sirius and Remus about how his dad had tried so hard to get his mom to agree to go out with him, and slowly he looked up at the sky a smirked, "Wish me luck pops."

However, Harry didn't have much time to daydream about the Princess as he heard a very cross voice emerge from Tonks' lips, "Is it so impossible for you to follow directions for like five minutes."

Harry grinned, "Of course it is, I was raised by Sirius Black after all."

"You're going to be the death of me kid," Tonks said with a sigh.

"You love me," Harry said with a chuckle, "Don't act like you don't."

Tonks' hair turned a fiery red before returning to the pink color and with a tired groan she spoke, "I hate that I can't hate you."

Harry laughed, and Tonks joined in a few moments later before the two of them began their final walk down Diagon Alley towards Flourish and Blotts, so that to their great misfortune, they could wait in such an incredibly long line. The door to Flourish and Blotts was in view when suddenly, Tonks stopped him. Harry looked up at his older sister quizzically before she spoke.

"So I was thinking," Tonks said.

"That's a surprise," Harry said with a meek grin.

"Shut it," Tonks said allowing a smile to form on her face as well, "I didn't get you a birthday present this year, did I?"

"It's fine," Harry said waving off Tonks' concern, "I don't really need anything anyway."

"I know you don't need anything, but I just had a great idea," Tonks said, "Do you want a pet for Hogwarts? A lot of students have them, and I for one don't think I could have gotten through my N.E.W.T years without Gale."

Harry smiled remembering the old tawny owl. He remembered how much it had hurt Tonks when she had passed away of old age, she was the Tonks family pet for years after all, but the idea of having a pet of his own did begin to turn gears in Harry's head, "I mean, an Owl would be cool, I always did like Gale."

"No, for you I don't think an owl makes much sense," Tonks said calmly, causing Harry to look at her in confusion, "I mean, if you want one sure we can get one, but owls mostly stay in the owlery and most wizards have them to carry post. You have Kreacher though and he can deliver your mail in a more secure fashion as it would be impossible to intercept him. I was thinking maybe a cat, or better yet a Kneazle."

"A Kneazle?" Harry asked in wonder, "Why?"

"One, they stay in the common rooms with you so the company helps," Tonks started but Harry shrugged it wasn't necessarily a deal breaker for him either way, but Tonks' next point really sold him, "Plus, they are nocturnal so they can watch over you while you sleep if they're loyal to you and the Auror department uses them sometimes because of their uncanny ability to detect suspicious and distrustful people."

Harry thought for a while, he knew all about the dorms at Hogwarts after hearing about them from Tonks, and while he did know each bed came with a charmed privacy curtain, considering who he was, he wasn't exactly against the idea of some extra protection while he slept. Harry turned to his sister and nodded, "Alright, I'm sold. Where can I get a Kneazle?"

"Well," Tonks said looking over the crowd trying to find a building, "I know it's here somewhere, it's a kind of new building but I think we-," Then Tonks smiled, "There it is, Figg's Kats and Kneazles. It's a small local business that sells both half and pure bread Kneazles. I recommend pure-bread ones, the ones that are crossed with cats are easier to train but aren't as good at detection, still, it's up to you."

Harry nodded and spoke, "Alright, we'll go right after we get the text-"

"Don't worry about the textbooks," Tonks said with a smile as she pulled out eleven galleons from her wallet and handed it to him, "I'll wait in line, you go pick out your present. You've been training yourself to exhaustion every day, go have some fun. Just please try to stay out of trouble."

"I solemnly swear it," Harry said with a chuckle before taking the galleons and heading off towards Figg's Kats and Kneazles, with more excitement than he had expected to feel.

(Harry P.O.V)

When Harry entered the rickety old building, the first thing he did was pinch his nose tightly. The scent of overwhelming amounts of kitty litter was causing his eyes to water, and his ears echoed with the sounds of purring, hissing, and meowing of the cage cats that lined the walls and floor of the store. Harry dried his eyes before he began walking towards the cashier, getting a grip on his previous sensory overload.

Sitting there on the stool in front of the register was an older woman who must have been Figg, her focus solely on her stitch work as she treaded yarn precisely through previously constructed knots with her long needles. She was a batty older woman with silvery grey hair that seemed about ready to pop off her head and fly away. She wore a dull pink dress gown and her tartan carpet slippers laid currently unused on the ground.

Slowly, Harry approached her, and a bit nervously, he spoke, "Um, hi, could you help me?"

The lady turned to him, her grey eyes peering into Harry with curiosity making him feel overwhelmingly uncomfortable. Then, in a shaky voice, she spoke, "Oh hello there, how can I help you, young man?"

"Well, I'm looking for a Kneazle. Do you sell those here?" Harry asked, feeling dumb for asking such an obvious question but not really knowing where else to start.

"Well, of course, I do young man," Figg said, "Your eyes are working, aren't they?"

Before Harry could even respond, the elderly woman popped off the stool and quickly slid into her slippers. She promptly took Harry's hand and began guiding him around her shop. "So right here," Figg started, "I have Mr. Paws here, a beautiful cross between a Kneazle and a Tabby Cat. Then I have Snowy, Tufty, Mr. Tibbles, all beautiful crosses themselves. Then over here I have-"

"Sorry," Harry said, cutting off the enthusiastic woman, "I meant I'm looking for a purebred Kneazle, do you have any of those?"

"Well," Figg said, rolling her tongue around behind her pursed lips, "I suppose I have some, but they aren't exactly the most friendly. Most Kneazles are easier to handle as Half-Breeds."

"I know," Harry said, "But could you please show me your Kneazles, just in case I see one I like."

"Oh, silly boy," Figg said, "You don't choose and Kneazle, they choose you. An animal as intelligent as they are aren't going to obey just anyone after all."

"So how do I know if a Kneazle chose me?" Harry asked, he had a myriad of other question he wanted to ask, but this one seemed to be at the top of his list.

"He or she will try to attack you," Figg said nonchalantly leading Harry towards the backroom, "They'll try to scratch your eyes out, bite a finger off, aggressive animals I tell you, but once you get a collar around them, they'll be as loyal as can be."

"Fantastic," Harry groaned slightly cursing Tonks for this awful idea, "Am I allowed to use magic, or do I have to wrangle these things by hand?"

"Magic is encouraged," Figg said, "Though they're fast and smart so you'll only be able to launch a single spell before they figure it out."

Finally, after a walk through the back room, they arrived at a large pen. Harry wasn't sure how a pen as large as the ones he had seen on cattle farms was able to fit inside a building that looked so small from the outside, but then again, he was in the magical world now, after all, literally anything was possible. Figg handed him a pitch-black collar and whispered slowly, "Are you sure you want to do this young man?" Harry nodded, and with a grim look, Figg spoke, "Good luck," before she pulled the lever and opened the pen gate.

Nervously, Harry entered the gate, collar in his right hand and wand in his left. He eyed the area nervously, he felt like a big streak in a lion's den as all around him he saw eyes looking at him. Blue eyes, Yellow eyes, Green eyes, and in the back, a pair of light violet eyes. Every step felt like walking on a thin crust of ice just above freezing water. Each movement being tracked by all sorts of cautious eyes ranging from curious to furious. The first sound he heard was from a cat as black as a nightmare with predatory yellow eyes. Slowly Harry raised his wand, ready to dance in needed, but after an intense glare, the cat turned away, his interest lost and quickly the Kneazle curled up and went to sleep.

Harry released a deep breath as he continued to creep through the pen slowly. The next cat to approach him was fast, faster than he'd ever seen any animal move. It was a ginger cat with green eyes. Harry once again adjusted, getting into position as the cat hissed and leered at him. Harry returned with a glare of his own, and for a moment, Harry was sure the animal was going to strike, but just before he jumped into action, the cat turned, heading back towards his large hideaway leaving Harry once again empty-handed.

Harry had just about given up hope as the blue-eyed white cat seemed to have no interest in him at all until he heard a low hiss coming from the far back corner. It was a Kneazle smaller than the others. It seemed to him like the Kneazle was just old enough to have been moved away from his previous litter as it was tiny but not a freshly born kitten. Harry stood like a statue; his eyes followed the Kneazle as it circled him, it's violet eyes looking at Harry as if it was trying to speak to him telepathically.

The Kneazle was quite handsome, with a lush grey coat with a white underbelly and a splotch just below the cat's neck making it look like he was wearing a bib. Harry wasn't sure what was about to happen next, but the Kneazle decided it for him, and it pounced at him. Wasting no time, Harry quickly rolled out of the way, avoiding the primary strike as the Kneazle bared its sharp fangs. Harry lifted his wand, not wanting to show any fear, and like a flash of lightning, the cat pounced again.

Harry hadn't managed to remain uncut this time as a light scratch appeared on his right arm. It wasn't deep, but it did draw some blood. Harry smirked, the Kneazle certainly had some spunk in him, and for another five minutes, Harry and the Kneazle participated in a high stakes game of cat and mouse. Harry wasn't tired, he'd been trained far too much for a cat to give him difficulty, but he certainly hadn't remained unscathed, his Kneazle was a fighter, that was for sure. The Kneazle panted, his youth giving way to his exhaustion before with one last pounce, the Kneazle attacked. But he was slower now, and quickly, Harry lifted his wand and spoke, "Petrificus Totalus."

Like a rock, the Kneazle fell to the ground; its eyes trained on Harry as he slowly approached his future pet. Slowly, he knelt down beside the violet-eyed cat, and with a satisfied grin, Harry wrapped the collar around its neck before muttering, "Finite."

Instantly, the Kneazle sprang back to life, but instead of scratching and hissing as it had before, it merely climbed up beside Harry and began purring as it licked his wounds. Harry and his new Kneazle's quiet moment was cut short, however, when Figg started to clap, "Well Done, well done!"

Harry smiled down at his cat as Figg continued, "I haven't seen such a marvelous taming of a Kneazle in years, truly excellent work. Now, come along with me, there are some forms that need to be filled out registering your Kneazle with the ministry, they are class three beasts after all, but as soon as the paperwork is completed you can be just out the door."

(Harry P.O.V)

Harry had felt quite bad for the poor lady as he left the store. See, when he registered his animal it was clear the Figg wasn't expecting the name on the file to be Harry Potter. Instantly, she went into a fit about how she apologized if she had been rude, and the struggle Harry had to go through just to have Figg accept the eleven galleons was astronomically difficult. But after a promise that Figg wouldn't run to the daily prophet to reveal that Harry was back, a promise he was quite sure she'd break eventually, but he convinced himself it didn't really matter, he left the store with a cage in his hand, and his new Kneazle, Loki, resting atop his head.

Harry wasn't sure why the name came to him so quickly, maybe it was because of the cat's mischievous nature, maybe it was because of a cat's association to magic, regardless the reason Harry decided that the name of the Norse Trickster God would be the perfect name for his new familiar. With Loki purring contently on his head, Harry made his way out towards Flourish and Blotts where he arrived just in time to witness Tonks trip over herself and tumble out of the store.

He to this day was still completely unaware how a klutz like Tonks had made it into the Auror academy in the first place, but shoving that thought aside, he quickly rushed to his sister's side helping her to her feet and picking the books off the ground as Tonks brushed herself off.

"Wotcher Harry," Tonks said before coming face to face with Loki, "Ah, so you got your Kneazle alright then?'

"Yeah," Harry groaned still rubbing his cuts, "Thanks for the info on the taming process, it was a lot of fun."

Tonks gave Harry a sheepish grin as she shrugged, "Shouldn't have made fun of me this morning then."

"You're unbelievable you know that?" Harry said with a chuckle.

Tonks just grinned, "I know, anyway, now that we've got everything are you ready to head home. I clean those cuts right up as soon as we get back."

"Yeah if you got all the textbooks I think we have everything," Harry said double checking his bags before he nodded feeling confident he had everything he needed. Then with a calm voice, Harry called out, "Kreacher."

With a pop, the familiar house-elf appeared with a bow, "How can Kreacher serve the heir of Black."

"Please take us back home, and be careful, I've got a couple of sharp claws centimeters from my face," Harry said nervously.

"Of course master, Kreacher lives to serve," and with a crack they apparated, the departure to Hogwarts getting closer by the second.