Chapter 4

Dawn flipped through the pages of the newspaper. “This is incredible!” She stopped at a picture of a bunch of people whizzing through the air on broomsticks. “You have got to be kidding!”

“Nope,” said Willow. “Not me, anyway. Maybe somebody else, but if it’s a joke, it’s an awfully elaborate one. I’m still trying to figure out the magic that makes these moving pictures work. It looks like these people really do play some sort of sport on flying brooms.”

Dawn looked at the some of the advertisements on another page. “It looks like they’ve got their own secret little world. Clothing stores, book shops, apothecaries…” She picked up the paper and shook it. “…newspaper. Even their own government. The editorial page talks about upcoming elections for a new Minister for Magic. Apparently no serious candidates want to run against this ‘Kingsley Shacklebolt’ guy.”

“They have their own money too.” Willow dumped the coins that she had received as change in the bar out on the table. “I think the gold one is called a Galleon, the silver ones are Sickles, and the copper are Knuts. Since I got all this change from a ten, after paying for two beers, I’d guess that a Galleon is worth about five pounds.”

Xander took the paper, and flipped back to the front page. “Most important, they seem to know someone who looks like I do now, even if he is some sort of philanderer.”

“We don’t know about that,” said Giles. “As far as I can tell, the only evidence they have of this Harry Potter’s misdeeds, is that they have a picture of you, with Dawn. The real Harry Potter may be quite innocent.”

“He does seem to be famous among these people, though,” said Dawn. “Kinda explains why those guys acted like they’d just seen Elvis.”

Willow took the paper back. “Too bad the article doesn’t say anything about why he’s famous. There’s some stuff about how he was breaking girls’ hearts back during his school days too, but nothing substantive.”

“We need to learn more,” said Giles, “but I have no idea how to proceed. I’m fairly certain that we have nothing in our library about these people.”

“Um…I may have an idea.”

“What is it, Dawn?” asked Willow.

Dawn took the paper, and flipped it over to the back page. She pointed to an ad there. “They’re running a new subscription special: One month for a Galleon. We fill in our address on this coupon, and ‘owl’ it, along with our one Galleon, to the Daily Prophet Subscription Department, and we get the paper delivered to us.”

“But how do we ‘owl’ it?” asked Xander.

“Hey, do I have to think of everything?”

“So, his name is Alexander Harris,” said Harry, “and her name is Dawn Summers. Nearly everyone we talked to agreed that they’re Americans.”

“That should help narrow it down,” said Hermione. “The Home Office keeps track of all foreigners in Britain. I can put a request through from my office to our contact there, for more information about them.”

“We have a contact in the Home Office?” asked Ginny.

“There are people scattered all through the British government, who know about us,” said Harry. “Some are Squibs. Some are relatives of Muggle-borns, or Muggles who married a witch or wizard. Muggle Affairs keeps a list of people who can help us out with things.”

“Do we know any more about them?” asked Ron.

“They were shopping for a complete new wardrobe,” said Harry. “Shirts, trousers, shoes, socks, pretty much everything. They told a couple of the shopkeepers that their airline lost his luggage.”

“So…it would seem that his appearance changed at about the same time that yours did,” said Hermione. “He had to buy new clothes, because none of his old ones would fit. If he was responsible for this, he would have known ahead of time, and already had the clothes that he needs.”

“Now that we have their names, how do we find them?” asked Ron.

“We’ve got an address for them, in Cambridge,” said Harry.

“Let’s go,” said Ginny.

“Don’t you have to be at work?” asked Hermione.

“I asked Neville to take care of it,” said Ginny. “He’s going to be taking over a lot of my responsibilities, once I start my maternity leave. I thought I’d give him some early practice.”

“Still, it might be better if you stayed behind,” said Harry. “We don’t know how dangerous this might be.”

Ginny turned a simmering glare his way. “Did you like sleeping on the sofa?” she asked sweetly. “We had this discussion after sixth year: you can’t protect me by pushing me away.”

Harry refused to back down. “I know, but it isn’t just you that we have to look out for now.” He looked down toward her swollen belly.

“We aren’t storming a Death Eater stronghold,” said Ginny. “We’re going to Cambridge to check on a couple of Muggles, one of whom looks like you now. What can go wrong?”

Ron groaned. “You just had to ask that, didn’t you?”

Willow took a deep breath to calm her nerves before she re-entered the Leaky Cauldron. “Okay, I can do this. I’ve researched all I can research. I’ve got my prop wand. I can do this.”

She had noticed the wands during her last visit to the pub, and learned a little more about them from reading the newspaper. These people seemed to need them to channel most of their magic. So now she and Kennedy were both carrying slender pieces of wood, that could serve double duty as stakes, if need be. It was Kennedy who had insisted that their fake wands had to be sturdy enough to also be used as stakes. The idea of carrying around a totally useless piece of wood was abhorrent to the Slayer.

It was the same time of day as their last visit, and when Willow looked around the room she recognized many of the same faces. She walked up to the bar, hoping that she looked a lot more confidant than she was feeling, and smiled at the bartender. “Hi, Tom!”

He smiled back at her. “Good day to you, ladies. What can I get you today?” He moved toward his beer taps.

Willow leaned against the bar. “Just some information, this time. We’re looking for Diagon Alley.”

Tom looked puzzled, and some of the suspicion from the beginning of their first visit came back to his face. “You don’t know where Diagon Alley is?”

“We know it’s near here,” said Willow quickly. “We just don’t know how to get there…from here.”

“They left that out of The American Witch’s Guide to Britain,” said Kennedy. “We were just told to go to the Leaky Cauldron.”

“There’s an American Witch’s Guide to Britain?” asked Tom.

“Not really, but there should be,” said Kennedy. “So how do we get to Diagon Alley from here?”

“It’s just out the back.” Tom pointed toward the rear entrance. “Tap the brick, three up and two across from the dustbin, three times with your wand.”

Willow smiled at him. “Thanks.” She pushed herself away from the bar, and took hold of Kennedy’s arm. “Let’s go.”

Kennedy waited until they were out of everyone’s earshot. “So, what are we going to do when tapping with our fake wands doesn’t do anything?” she whispered.

“We don’t know that it won’t work,” whispered Willow. “If it doesn’t…I’ll think of something.” They reached a small, dingy courtyard with a few weeds growing up through cracks in the paving stones. Willow moved to the wall by the trashcan, and tapped her stick against the brick that Tom had told her to. Nothing happened.

“Hmmm…” Willow concentrated for a moment, feeling for the magic. She could tell that there was something there, but she couldn’t feel how it was supposed to work. “Nope. Nothing.” She turned back to the entrance into the Leaky Cauldron.

Willow tried for her best impression of Buffy’s guileless dumb-blonde voice when she asked, “So, was that two up, and three across?” She heard a bit of suppressed laughter ripple through the bar.

Tom turned away, to hide an eye roll Willow was sure, and spoke to a man near the fireplace, whom Willow hadn’t noticed when she had first come into the bar. “Neville, why don’t you show this nice American witch how to get into Diagon Alley?”

“Of course, Tom.” The man flicked his wand over his robes, making some soot disappear, and came toward Willow. “I’m Neville Longbottom. You’re from America, are you?”

“That’s right.” She smiled back at him. “Willow Rosenberg.”

“How long have you been in England?”

“A couple of months,” said Willow, “but most of it was spent up near Cambridge, or down in Devon. I’ve only been in London a few times, mostly just passing through.” She led Neville out the back door. “Hey Kennedy. This is Neville. He’s going to show us how it works.” She turned back to him. “I feel so embarrassed, forgetting which brick Tom told me to tap.”

“That’s all right,” said Neville. “I’m always forgetting stuff like that. I’m almost famous for it.” He reached out with his wand, and tapped the brick three times.

Willow had her shields all the way down, to better feel the magic. She felt a surge of power from Neville’s wand into the brick and spreading out from there, and gave Kennedy a nod. She was confident that she could repeat it for herself, the next time.

“After you, ladies,” said Neville with a bow and a flourish, as the bricks in the wall wiggled away from each other, to form an archway wide enough for them all to walk through together. He didn’t seem to notice the surprised expression on Kennedy’s face, and Willow tried hard to look nonchalant as she took hold of her girlfriend’s hand, and then gave her a quick kiss. It was a very effective way of distracting any male from anything that they needed distracting from.

Willow tried hard not to look too much like a gawking tourist as she walked through the archway, and Kennedy had gotten better control of herself after her initial startlement. Her eyes were still wide as she looked around.

Neville was still with them. “So, what are you looking for?” he asked. “I might be able to help you find it.”

“Oh, that’s alright,” said Willow. “You’ve been more than enough help already. You can go back to the pub, if you like.”

“I was just passing through, on my way here, anyway,” said Neville.

“Oh, in that case, we were going to start out at Gringotts, to get some money exchanged,” said Willow.

“Oh, that’s the big white building, there.” Neville pointed down the cobbled street to a white marble edifice that rose above all the others. “You can’t miss it.”

They started to walk down the street, which was crowded with pedestrian traffic, most of it dressed in robes like the people from the Leaky Cauldron, but there were enough other people dressed in what Willow considered more normal clothing that she and Kennedy didn’t stand out too much while they chatted with Neville. They told him that they were looking to buy some books, so he pointed out Flourish and Blotts as they passed it. He didn’t look too happy when Willow asked about finding the Daily Prophet offices.

“There’s something wrong with the Daily Prophet?” she asked.

Neville shrugged, and looked a little embarrassed. “They’re mostly okay, if you stick to things like the Quidditch scores, and the adverts. For most of their ‘news’ though, they just reprint whatever the Ministry feeds them, or they’re just spreading gossip.”

“You mean like that story about Harry Potter a couple of days ago?” asked Willow.

“Especially if it’s got anything to do with Harry,” said Neville. “After that last story, Ginny was ready to really blast them.”

“You know Harry Potter?” asked Kennedy.

“Yeah.” Neville looked even more embarrassed. “We were in the same year, and house at Hogwarts.”

Kennedy affected the breathy voice of a fangirl, looking for news of her favourite celebrity. “What’s he really like?”

“Nothing like what that Skeeter woman keeps writing about him. He’s a nice bloke, a good friend.” He frowned at Kennedy. “He hates people making a fuss over him. He just wants to live his life. Do his job, raise his family, and never have to fight another Dark wizard.”

“So, you’re friends with him?” asked Willow.

“Yeah, we’re good friends, and it really bothers him and Ginny the way that the Daily Prophet keeps printing nonsense about them.”

“Like that story a couple of days ago,” said Willow.

“Yeah,” said Neville. “I don’t know where that picture came from, but Harry wasn’t even in London that day.”

“Where was he?” asked Kennedy.

Neville shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t talk about things like that with strangers. Even when they’re as charming as you.”

“Oh, you’re right. We’re being awfully nosey,” said Willow. “I’m sorry about that.”

“That’s alright,” said Neville. “We’re here.”

“Hmm?”

Neville waved his hand, pointing to the building beside them. “Gringotts Bank.”

Willow felt Kennedy tensing, but she ignored her for a moment, keeping her attention on Neville. “Oh, thanks a bunch! I hope we didn’t take you too far out of your way.”

“No trouble at all,” said Neville. “I’m heading farther down the alley, to Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes. Why don’t you drop in, once you’ve done your shopping?”

“We’ll see,” said Willow, not wanting to make any commitments. “I’m not sure if we’ll have time, once we’re done our shopping.”

“In that case, it’s been a pleasure meeting you. I hope to do so again, soon.” Neville gave them a final wave, and continued on down the street on his own.

Willow turned to the bank, and drew in a sharp breath as she saw who, or rather what, was standing beside the door. Now she knew what had caused Kennedy to tense up.

“Is that some sort of demon?” Kennedy asked quietly.

Willow looked at the short creature, dressed in a red and gold uniform, standing guard beside the bank doors. People were passing in and out of the building without sparing it a second glance. “I think…it’s a goblin!”

“A goblin?”

“Yeah,” said Willow. “They’re supposed to have vanished centuries ago! There are stories about them being in some sort of war with a group of wizards, and then they both vanished. The wizards, and the goblins!”

Kennedy had a look around. “Maybe we just found where they all disappeared to.”