Harry Potter and the Brothers of the Wolves

Chapter 7: A New Face

After a week had passed, it was time for those attending Hogwarts to get their supplies. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and the Twins Flooed to Diagon Alley with Mr. Weasley. They passed Tom, the bartender, who was serving an assortment of people looking to drown their worries in beer. Ron tried to buy some fire whiskey from the old man but his father dragged him away, shaking his head.

Walking down the Alley, Harry shook his head in wonder at how quickly so much time had passed by. It seemed only a few months before that Harry had first walked down these cobblestone streets in his first year. Harry would miss having to come here every year before school. At the rate he seemed to be going, his last year would be on him in no time at all.

Harry got his new books, including Standard Book of Spells Grade 5 by Miranda Goshawk, Magical Energy by Ersatz Energos, 1001 Defensive Spells by Fidget Jigger, and Broken Balls: When Fortunes Turn Foul. Harry eyed the last one for a minute before realizing the book was probably for Divination.

When Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were walking down towards Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor, Ron suddenly shrieked out and ran to a display window, pressing up against the glass. Hermione raised her eyebrow and looked up to the sign above the shop: Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Harry walked over to the window (less extravagantly, of course), and finally noticed what Ron was ogling at. In the new display, there was a new prototype broom that had obviously just reached the market, for Harry had never seen anything quite like it. He read the small plaque below the broom:

The new Nimbus Skyros! The newest racing broom, reaching up to 190 miles an hour, the Skyros wields a state-of-the-art design, consisting of hand-picked, hand-polished aspen handle and individually selected cedar twigs formulated to make the Skyros the best broom available. Price on request, serious buyers only, please.

Harry reminisced back to the first time he saw the Firebolt in this same window. That had only been two years ago... Lost in thought, Harry was finally brought back to reality by a deep kiss from Ginny.

"Good, I finally found something to bring you back down to earth," she said smiling.

"Yea, make sure you do that every time you want my attention." Harry averted his eyes and tried acting as though she wasn't there. He circled around back to the Skyros and grinned when she started whining. "You'll have to 'bring me back' again," Harry said to no one in particular.

"Dolt," she said, spinning him around and kissing him again. She tasted like cream and strawberries again.

They spent the rest of the day zooming around to find their different supplies, stopping by at Florean Fortescue's for a sundae or two, finally heading back to the Leaky Cauldron around seven at night. The streets were becoming sparse of people and everyone seemed to be heading home or indoors, as it was slowly starting to storm.

Mr. Weasley led the teenagers to the shelter of the Cauldron and ushered them over to the fireplace.

"The Burrow!" he shouted, throwing the fine grains of Floo Powder that rested above the mantelpiece. They all stepped in, one at a time, and Mr. Weasley went last of all, feeling the familiar sensation that many years of Flooing had made him accustomed to.

* * *

Harry awoke the next morning to the sounds of muffled hysteria downstairs. He waltzed down in just his pajama bottoms and was startled to see a collection of unfamiliar wizards and witches assembled around the kitchen. He blushed slightly but stayed where he was.

Ginny rushed over to him and cried onto his shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he asked her. "What's the matter?" he said looking around to the strangers who surrounded him.

"Diagon Alley," Mr. Weasley said from behind Harry. "It's been attacked Harry."

After overcoming the shock of such unbelievable news, Harry turned to one of the more familiar wizards standing near him. "When?"

"Last night, shortly after seven thirty in the afternoon." A look of dawning comprehension lit up over Harry's face. "Yes, right after you left, according to Mr. Weasley."

"Do I know you?" Harry asked the wizard he had turned to. He seemed like someone that he knew, the name right on his tongue, but he couldn't recall where he could have seen him before.

"No, I don't believe you do know me, although you will very soon. My name is Romulus Reece, and I will be your new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts this coming term." Harry couldn't place it, but this man seemed oddly familiar. His hair was short and brown, but he was obviously old enough to have a few grey hairs. He was just shorter than Harry, which was not saying much, considering that Harry was relatively tall for his age, but not yet as large as Ron.

"Okay, you just seemed terribly familiar." An amused glint flashed behind Romulus' soft brown eyes.

"I've been told that many times before. Alright, Harry, I must go, I merely came with a companion to check up here on the Weasleys. I will surely see you soon, Harry. Good day," he said, and with a sweep of his jet black robes, he was gone.

This mysterious man looked remarkably like someone Harry knew. He just couldn't place the face to a name. It's always like that. Tip of the tongue...

Harry mourned the news of Diagon Alley and pondered the resemblance of Professor Romulus Reece.