Harry Potter and the End of Immortality

"Now, you've all got your school supplies lists with you, right? You all know what you need to buy?"

"Yes, Mum," said a chorus of bored voices.

"And you won't go anywhere alone? You'll stay in groups of two or three?"

"Yes, Mum."

"And if I find out any of you set so much as one foot inside Knockturn Alley, I'll have your hides!"

"Right, Mum."

"All right...off you go. I want you all home by three, all right?"

"We're staying overnight, remember?" That was Ron. He, Hermione, and Harry were all staying overnight at Diagon Alley's newest inn for a bit of relaxation and freedom before school started, and were expected to be back at the Burrow by eleven the next morning.

"Yes, you three will be back in the morning...all right, George can go first." George stepped without hesitation into the glowing fireplace and called out, "Diagon Alley!" in a loud, clear voice, followed quickly by Fred, Ron, Hermione, and then Harry.

"Have a lovely time, dear," Mrs. Weasley said, smiling, and Harry told her he would before departing for Diagon Alley himself. He had always wondered which fireplace it was exactly that you ended up in after yelling Diagon Alley; the only time he had ever tried to reach Diagon Alley by Floo had been the summer before second year, and he had ended up in the formidable Knockturn Alley by accident.

He rushed through numerous fireplaces before finally landing inside Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Apparently Fred and George had already left, because Ron and Hermione were the only students in the shop. A sudden pop behind Harry reminded him that Ginny was coming along too.

"Can we stop at the bank first? I have to exchange my money, you know..." Hermione pulled out several pounds and smiled apologetically.

"That's fine, I have to stop by the bank anyway. I'm running low on gold." Noticing the looks on Ron and Ginny's faces, Harry immediately regretted saying that. He didn't know the exact amount of money Mrs. Weasley had given each of them to spend, but he could tell it wasn't much. Fortunately, Hermione had enough tact to politely change the subject.

"Then can we get going? We've only two hours to buy everything we need...well, Ginny does, anyway."

The four of them set off toward Gringott's, avoiding Madam Malkin's workers' cold stares. While Madam Malkin didn't seem to mind the idea of students using her fireplace to get to and from and Diagon Alley, her attendants did get annoyed when people stayed there for a long time without purchasing anything.

After Hermione exchanged her pounds for Galleons and Harry got some more money from his vault, they all walked to Flourish & Blotts for parchment, quills, and new textbooks. Inside Ron begrudgingly picked up a copy of the book they needed.

"The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5," he read aloud, looking disgusted. "You'd think Miranda Goshawk would have come up with some better titles by now."

"Ron, when you become a famous author and write a book Hogwarts will actually accept into its curriculum, you can make up flashy titles," said Hermione, browsing a row of O.W.L. prep books. "Until then, leave her alone. She's a brilliant writer, you know."

Ron glared at Hermione's turned back before snatching up his copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5 and storming over to the counter to pay for it. Grinning, Harry leaned over and murmured, "Calm down, Ron. She gets to you because you let her."

"Oh, shut up," Ron growled, but Harry could tell he didn't really mean it towards him. Sighing, he headed over to the row of books Hermione was in and browsed the different books. He wanted to buy an O.W.L. prep book or two, figuring it couldn't hurt to flip through it once or twice.

Hermione had already loaded up on every O.W.L. book they had in stock, which Harry personally thought was overkill. Sure, the O.W.L.s were important, but he wasn't about to center the next ten months of his life around them. After helping Hermione carry the dozen or so books she was buying to the register, the four of them went over to Bargain Bob's All-Purpose Robes to get new dress robes for Ginny and Ron.

Ron was hurriedly sorting through a clearance rack when George dashed into the shop, breathing heavily.

"Ron! Don't buy anything!" Puzzled, Ron looked up in time to see George waving navy blue dress robes through the air. Surprised, Ron walked slowly over to George in awe. "Are those...for me?"

George nodded, beaming. "We bought them with some spare money from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes," he said, winking at Harry. "Are they the right size? Do you like them?"

Ron seemed incapable of speech. He gently took the robes from George's arms, his eyes traveling slowly up and down them. They were exactly the same as Harry's fourth year ones, only a different color. Without warning Ron threw his arms around George's neck and hugged him closely, leaving George gasping for breath.

"Ron! You're going to wrinkle the dress robes! Now get off me!" Shoving Ron away, George painfully rubbed his neck and turned to leave the shop. "Look, I'm glad you like them, but no public displays of affection, all right?"

Ginny came over holding a pair of shimmery red robes that tied elegantly in the back but stopped dead when she saw the fresh new robes Ron was holding. "Where did you find those, Ron?" Her eyes swept the sales racks, her gaze lingering over the frayed dresses and torn robes hanging there. The men's section didn't have the best selection in the world, and Ron's ears went ever so slightly pink as he answered Ginny's question.

"Er...Fred and George bought them for me from Madam Malkin's. You know, because there isn't much choice here for boys..."

"They're nice, Ron." Ginny's expression warmed slightly as she attempted to smile. "I like them. Really." Stepping up to the counter, she paid for her robes and casually asked Hermione if she was buying anything.

"My parents gave me some extra money for dress robes this year," said Hermione awkwardly. "I...I thought we could head over to Madam Malkin's next."

"Oh. All right, then. Let's go." Ginny was still smiling, but somehow it didn't quite reach her eyes; Harry could tell she didn't appreciate being the only person to have to buy her robes secondhand.

Suddenly an idea popped into his head. Without thinking he rushed over to a nearby sales rack and grabbed the first pair of robes he saw: a violet, hooded robe with half the buttons missing. Hurrying over to the register to pay, he pointedly avoided his friends' stares as he handed the cashier a handful of Sickles.

As they all left the shop, Harry could tell his friends were dying to ask him why he had gotten such shabby robes but didn't dare because that was where Ginny had gotten her robes. As they stepped into Madam Malkin's, Ron shot Harry a questioning look, but Harry just quickly glanced away.

Once inside, Harry immediately walked over to the nearest attendant. "Excuse me, is there any way you could add some buttons to this robe and maybe remove the hood?" A few charms later, Harry's robes looked as new as any of the more expensive ones in the shop. Grinning at Ron, he asked the attendant how much the alterations cost and was told it was only five Sickles.

Harry couldn't help but notice Ginny's smile as she asked the woman to shorten her dress and try to get the stain out of the front, which was done immediately. After Hermione picked out a beautiful lavender robe that came with a matching winter cloak, the four of them headed over to the pet shop on Ginny's insistence.

"I'm just looking," she told Ron pointedly as she gazed in wonder at all the different animals in the store, focusing most of her attention on the various cats. Harry felt terrible for her when he noticed the way she kept staring at one particular snowy white cat on display at the front of the store. He glanced at the price tag and then at the amount of money he had left in his bag; there was definitely more than enough. Strolling over to the saleswoman, he asked what the animal's name was.

"December," she replied, beaming. "He's quite a remarkable creature, with many special powers, and he has such a marvelous coat of fur...were you thinking of purchasing him?"

"Yes, if that's possible," said Harry, glancing around at his friends to make sure no one was watching him. The attendant gave him a box of self-refreshing cat litter, some cat treats, and various containers to store the cat food in. Last but not least, she went over to the front of the store and unlocked December's cage, gently handing the cat to Harry.

"Oh! Are you buying that cat, Harry?" asked Ginny, her eyes alight with interest. He tried to nod casually, but somehow his arms were handing the animal to her before he could stop them.

"He's for you, Ginny," Harry said, smiling. He had been planning to surprise her with the cat later that day but couldn't resist telling her; the wistful look of wanting on her face was too much for him.

"Harry, I...I don't know what to say...you shouldn't have...I can't accept this!"

Harry shrugged nonchalantly. "Fine. Just give him to someone else then, all right? He's already paid for and there are no refunds at this tore, so it's too late to give him back. I don't want him myself, since the Dursleys would never allow a cat in the house, and I'm sure you know Ron absolutely loathes all feline animals. Ask Hermione if Crookshanks needs any company, although I doubt she wants to worry about two cats with the O.W.L.s and everything this year."

Ginny bit her lip, looking two between happiness and pride. Apparently happiness was the more important of the two, because without warning Ginny hugged the animal tightly and raced over to her older brother yelling, "Ron, look what Harry bought me! Can you believe it? His name's December and I've wanted him for such a long time and now he's mine!"

Suddenly a hand was on Harry's shoulder and then turning him around slowly; he knew without looking it was Hermione. She was frowning slightly at something behind Harry.

"I don't know if that was really a good idea, Harry." Turning, Harry looked at Ginny's delighted expression as she stroked December's back before addressing Hermione again.

"Why not?"

"Oh, Harry, isn't it obvious? Ron's never accepted money or even gifts from you, with the exception of Christmas. Do you really think he's going to like the idea of you buying his little sister a present?"

Hermione turned out to be wrong, however. As the four of them walked back to Madam Malkin's so Ginny could Floo home, Ron clapped Harry hard on the back and muttered, "Nice work, Harry. Ginny's wanted that cat since she was eleven years old."

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Nari yawned lazily as the made her way through Diagon Alley, mentally noting to herself that seven boys had given her the elevator look in the last ten minutes. Not bad for a newbie, in her opinion. She was decked out in extremely tight sea green robes and dangly emerald earrings, hoping to see how many guys she could get to notice her in one day. She had lost count awhile ago but felt she was doing rather well for the most part.

Her family had come over to Diagon Alley in order to buy school supplies for Hogwarts, but some of the items were absurd. Why they had to buy size 3 pewter cauldrons, for example, was beyond her. At home they always used size 5; size 3 was way too small for most potions.

"Nari! Come over here!" Nari turned in time to see her only younger sister running toward her excitedly. "It says on the list that we need dress robes-Faith thinks we might have a dance or something! Isn't that wonderful?"

"Peachy," said Nari dryly. She loved her sister, but she got all excited over the silliest things sometimes. "I'm assuming you want me to go with you to Madam Malkin's and help you pick out a nice set of robes?" Willow nodded eagerly, then glanced at her watch and frowned.

"We don't have enough time, Nari! It's almost six-fifty and we said we'd meet Mum at the Hags' Hotel at seven!"

"We'll go tomorrow, then," said Nari, almost relieved to be able to stop flaunting herself for awhile. "We're staying at an inn overnight for a reason, you know."

"All right," said Willow sadly, the energy fading from her rapidly. "I suppose..." The two of them set off toward their hotel, Nari's straight sheet of fair hair contrasting sharply with Willow's dark curls.

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Ron, Hermione, and Harry were having a rather intense conversation on the likelihood of Percy being elected Minister of Magic within the next ten years. Originally they had all thought he wouldn't, but now Hermione was having thoughts on the subject.

"He's really ambitious..."

"So? His main talent is sucking up to those considered above him and hoping they'll get his last name right."

"Look at Cornelius Fudge! He's a complete sap, and he's in office!"

"Only because Dumbledore turned the position down! And we all know Fudge still owls the man every other day for advice!"

"Hey, you guys, would you mind if I went to my room now? I'm feeling pretty tired from all the walking we did today..."

Ron stared at him. "Harry, we walk around places all the time and you've never gotten tired before. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, Harry, if you don't feel well maybe you should go to a mediwizard or something..."

This was nothing less than what he had expected from the two of them. "You guys, I'm fine. I'm just feeling a bit tired, that's all...maybe I am coming down with something. In that case, don't you think I should rest anyway?" He resisted the urge to laugh as Ron and Hermione seemed to struggle between their concern for him and his good reasoning.

"I suppose that'd be all right..."

"Yeah, go ahead, mate. I'm feeling a bit knackered myself." So Harry got up from the couch and headed in the general direction of his room. After checking to make sure Ron and Hermione weren't watching him anymore, he darted over to the back door and dashed out into the twilight, hoping for some time to himself. It wasn't that Ron and Hermione weren't good friends to talk to, because they were; it was just that he liked being alone sometimes to clear his head and think.

Deep in thought, he headed off in the general direction of a steel bench he had seen earlier so he could watch the sunset.

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All of Willow's sisters were involved in sports of some sort. Ramona, being short and slender, had the perfect build for gymnastics; Faith had always possessed a fascination with nature and therefore loved horseback riding and hiking in the woods; Nari was a big fan of swimming, weight lifting, and cross-country skiing.

And then there was Willow, who went running.

This wasn't necessarily a bad thing; running worked wonders for the cardiovascular system and helped develop sleek, strong legs. It just seemed to Willow like such a mainstream thing to do-go running. Sure, she played tennis sometimes, and had even won a tournament once in Mexico, but she was nothing special when it came to sports.

Still, she enjoyed her running. Nothing felt more refreshing to her than the wind blowing her curly masses of hair behind her, the cool, crisp air of fading daylight, or the steady pounding of her feet on the pavement. Some people brought portable CD players with them while jogging, but Willow felt this defeated the purpose of going running in the first place. There was nothing else quite like it in the world.

Which was why she was sweating profusely in the middle of Diagon Alley in broad daylight (okay, twilight) where anyone could see her at her worst. She knew loads of her future classmates were buying school supplies with their families here, knew that one glimpse of her disheveled clothing and watery eyes would scare off a blind man fifty meters away, and yet she went anyway. There was something about the sheer adrenaline rush and the inner peace that came while running that she couldn't go long without.

She soared by the post office and Gringotts Bank, picking up her pace a bit as she realized she was nearly halfway done. Squirting some water into her parched mouth, she rounded a corner and nearly had a heart attack as she stopped dead in her tracks.

Sitting a metal bench not three feet from her was a boy she had seen numerous times before, not one of them in person. There was no possibility of mistaken identity in this case; those round wire-rimmed glasses, those sparkling green eyes, that scruffy black hair that seemed to everywhere...she was looking her worst and gawking like an idiot at none other than Harry Potter.

Apparently he sensed her presence, for quite suddenly he raised his head up and looked at her calmly.

"May I help you?" he asked quietly, eyeing her sweaty clothes and trembling body.

It took Willow a moment or two to register that he had actually spoken to her, and when she did she could barely believe it. Remembering her manners, she spoke both quickly and hesitantly, afraid to make more of a fool of herself than she already had.

"I'm sorry, I was just running and I couldn't help but notice...er...are you...um..."

"Harry Potter?" he finished for her, and she nodded gratefully, embarrassed. "Yes, I am." He reached up and pushed his bangs back from his forehead, revealing the oddly-shaped scar Willow had only seen in her daydreams. She stared blatantly and openly until he let his hair slide back onto his forehead, and then she recollected herself.

"I'm really sorry, you should be able to sit on a bench in peace..."

"It's all right," he said, a smile playing at his lips. "I'm used to it." To many people this would have sounded like a vain statement, but Willow could tell Harry was just trying to express himself. "Are you thirsty or anything? I'm staying at the Corner Inn and they have a bar in the back...I could buy you a Butterbeer or something..."

"Oh, no, I'm fine! I don't want to bother you any more than I already have..." His green eyes seemed to twinkle at that statement.

"You aren't bothering me." He stated this so matter-of-factly that Willow felt herself go red as soon as he had said it, but she quickly recovered.

"I've got a water bottle. I'm fine, really." But he just reached out a hand suddenly and felt her water bottle.

"It's warm," he announced, and he started off in the direction of his inn as though this settled the matter. Feeling she didn't have much of a choice, Willow quickly followed him.

"What's your name?" he asked suddenly.

"My name?"

"Yes," he said, grinning. "You do have a name, don't you?"

"Oh! Right! My name's Willow. Willow Tolaza."

"That's a nice name. Better than Harry Potter."

"No it's not! You have a fine name!"

Harry looked thoughtful for a moment. "Is your wand made of willow, by any chance?"

Now it was Willow's turn to grin. "Yes, it is. We all thought it was rather ironic...it has a phoenix feather, too. What's yours?"

"Holly and a phoenix feather, like you." They walked for a moment in companionable silence, and then they were at the back door of the inn. Harry politely opened the door for Willow with a smile.

As soon as she stepped inside the pub, she was surprised as the grandeur and luxury of it all. Plush leather seats with velvet trim surrounded a rich mahogany coffee table on one side of the room; on the opposite side there were what appeared to be dragonhide bar stools with real gold stands holding them up. The lush, thick red carpet seemed to welcome you into the room, beckoning you to relax, sit down, and order a drink or two.

She noticed a red-headed boy fast asleep on one of the leather couches. Harry chuckled quietly when he saw where her gaze was directed and whispered, "That's a friend of mine. Name's Ron Weasley. He was feeling rather tired today, and I thought it'd be best to just leave him be." Willow smiled and allowed Harry to lead her to the counter, where he told her to order whatever she liked.

"I'll have a glass of ice water, please." Harry frowned.

"I told you, you can order whatever you feel like having. Go on, have a good drink..."

"It just so happens that my favorite drink in the world is plain old ice water, Harry Potter, followed by sparkling water, iced tea, and lemonade. Do you have a problem with that?" Willow was surprised at herself; she was rarely flippant about anything, but here she was being fresh with the most famous person in the wizarding world.

Harry just laughed. "Fair enough," he said, eyes sparkling. "I'll have a Butterbeer." After he paid for his drink, he and Willow sat on one of the leather loveseats that was a measurable distance from the sleeping redhead.

"So," Harry said, leaning back against one of the red cushions, "do you go running often?"

"Every night," Willow answered. "It's the only form of exercise I get, so it's pretty important to me."

"Is it any fun?" He was looking into her eyes as though he meant this question very seriously; it was rather unnerving.

"I guess...I mean, for most people it probably wouldn't be. It's tiring, you have to work hard, and there's not a lot of entertainment involved. But I enjoy it...it gives me a chance to clear my brain and think."

"Sounds like my experience with flying."

"Oh, do you play Quidditch?"

"Yeah, I'm on my house team at Hogwarts...what school do you go to, by the way?"

"My mum homeschools all of us." She didn't really feel like telling him she would be joining him in the fall. Not yet, anyway.

"Really? I didn't know people did that...so you live in England, right?"

"Actually, we're situated in Ireland right now. We move around a lot. That's part of the reason we're homeschooled, you know. But Diagon Alley is the best place to get school supplies, and we need that even if we don't go to a normal school."

"Yeah..." Harry appeared lost in thought. "What's it like?"

"What? Homeschooling?" He nodded slowly. "Well...you don't have to be on time for different classes. Mum does us in order of age...it only takes an hour or two for one of us to finish what takes an entire day for you. There are Ministry regulations on what we're taught, you know...oh, and we can do magic whenever we want, because our home is our "school" and you're just not allowed to do magic outside of school. That's the plus side of it."

"What's the downside?"

"Well, you don't meet a whole lot of other kids your age. Sure, I know a few girls, but they all go to school together and whenever we go out they talk about difficult courses or nasty teachers or some cute older boy, and I always end up getting left out. Plus, they're away ten months of the year." She paused, wondering why she was pouring her heart out to a total stranger. "It's not like they mean to leave me out or anything-it's just...you know."

"Yeah," Harry said softly, "I think I do." His eyes were focused on something only he could see. "I don't know if you know this, but I grew up with Muggles. My aunt Petunia, my uncle Vernon, and my cousin Dudley, who's my age. The three of them hated me because I was a wizard. They never actually told me I had magical powers, and whenever odd accidents happened, I'd be punished in some way. They'd lock me in the cupboard I slept in for days on end without food or deprive me of dinner for a week...but that's not the point.

"I had to go to school with Dudley. I was given his old clothes to wear, which wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't been the size of a small elephant. I had these taped glasses and I was short for my age and Dudley hated me, so I was constantly picked on. I never really felt like I belonged anywhere. When I finally came to Hogwarts, it was like discovering a whole new world. It was a whole new world, really.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is I know what it's like to not belong."

Amazed, Willow seemed to temporarily lose her ability to speak. When her powers of speech finally came back to her, Harry was already offering to walk her back to her hotel.

"It's getting dark out," he said, glancing at the rapidly setting sun through the pub window.

"I'll be all right," she said firmly, not entirely sure why she was turning down his offer. It was starting to get late, and she didn't really feel like running anymore. Nevertheless, she decided to go with her gut instinct, as it was generally right about these things, and politely turned him down.

"Will I get to see you again?" Harry called out suddenly as she left the pub.

"Sooner than you think!" she yelled, grinning to herself. Boarding school was starting to look better already.

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