I Think He Looks Like Lily

After leaving Gringotts, Hagrid suggested taking Harry to buy the items listed in his acceptance letter.

As they passed an ice cream shop, Hagrid bought two ice creams and gave Harry the one with raspberry chocolate sauce. They ate as they headed toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Madam Malkin was a plump, kind-hearted witch with a gentle smile. When she saw Harry, she warmly ushered him into the shop.

Harry quickly finished his ice cream and followed Madam Malkin inside.

"My dear, you're here to buy Hogwarts uniforms too, aren't you? To be honest, we have many styles here, and we can tailor clothes to suit your needs." Madam Malkin introduced the shop to Harry. "Oh, right, there's a young witch inside trying on clothes. I think you two will get along well."

Following the direction Madam Malkin pointed, Harry saw a little girl with puffy hair standing on a stool while a witch pinned up her robe.

Madam Malkin had Harry stand beside the little girl. As Harry walked over, he happened to see her turn around.

"Oh, are you a new student at Hogwarts too?" The little girl tilted her head up, her expression carrying a certain pride—completely different from Cassandra's. Cassandra's pride came from her noble family background, while this little girl reminded Harry of the female classmate from Muggle School who had always ranked first in the entire year.

It was the pride of an academic bully.

Only... those big incisors made Harry think of the dormouse Hagrid kept in his pocket.

"Yes." Harry smiled faintly.

Hermione also noticed Harry's clothes. It was not that she noticed how worn they were, but rather that they were typical Muggle attire.

When she had arrived in Diagon Alley, Hermione had deliberately observed that most young wizards dressed quite differently from Muggles in their daily lives.

"Are you from a Muggle family too?" Hermione's tone became noticeably friendlier.

"More or less," Harry replied.

Hermione wore an expression that said she had known it.

"Hermione Granger." She held out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Harry. Harry Potter." Harry also extended his hand and took Hermione's small one.

To his surprise, Hermione's expression immediately turned astonished upon hearing his name.

"Oh my God, is it really you?" she asked. "I know everything about you. Of course, I bought a few extra reference books for after-dinner reading—A History of Modern Magic, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Major Magical Events of the Twentieth Century. All of them mentioned your name at great length."

After-dinner reading?

Harry felt that Miss Granger might... probably... not be his kind of person.

Typical Ravenclaw behavior.

"A famous person like you should have been living in the Magical World, shouldn't you? Why did you lie and tell me you came from a Muggle family?" Hermione suddenly frowned.

"You know, my parents were killed by Voldemort when I was young..." Harry said quietly. "So I grew up at my aunt's house and only just learned that magic existed."

"Oh, I'm sorry." Hermione bit her lip as she apologized to Harry. "I'm sorry, truly sorry."

"It's all right." Harry smiled. "After all, you didn't know—"

"Miss Granger?"

A stern voice rang out. Harry looked toward it and saw a witch in a Dark Green Robe, wearing glasses.

"Professor McGonagall!" Hermione cried out. She seemed to like this witch very much.

Professor McGonagall smiled at Hermione, then turned to Harry and met those emerald eyes.

"This is... Mr. Potter?"

"Hello, Professor McGonagall." Harry gave Professor McGonagall a gentleman's bow.

Professor McGonagall nodded slightly, a trace of remembrance flickering in her eyes.

This child...

I think he looks like Lily, Professor McGonagall thought happily.

Just then, Madam Malkin came over as well.

"If you don't mind, ladies and this gentleman." Madam Malkin looked at Harry. "I need to start taking measurements."

"I'll be going, then, Harry." Hermione said to Harry, "See you at school."

"See you at school." Harry nodded as well. "Goodbye, Professor."

After his measurements were taken, Harry followed Hagrid around Diagon Alley, buying everything on the school opening supply list.

At last, the two of them stopped in front of a wand shop.

"Ollivanders, makers of fine wands since 382 BC."

Harry looked up and read the words on the peeling Gold Sign.

"Pretty old, isn't it?" Hagrid patted Harry on the shoulder. "You should know, I bought my wand here when I was at school too—actually, nearly every Hogwarts student buys their wand here."

Harry nodded in agreement. After all, he had bought his wand here a hundred years ago as well.

The owner back then had been Garrick Ollivander, a rather eccentric man.

Holly Wood, Phoenix Feather core, eleven inches.

Only... Harry had no idea where the wand he had used a century ago was now.

Harry felt it was necessary to find his old pal.

The shop was small, with only a long bench and nothing else.

Hagrid told Harry that he needed to step out for a while, then left Harry alone to wait in the wand shop.

Harry did not have to wait long before a soft voice sounded beside his ear.

"Good afternoon."

"Hello." Harry turned around. An old man stood before him.

If Harry had guessed correctly, this old man should have been Garrick Ollivander's son.

"Yes, yes, yes." Mr. Ollivander nodded repeatedly. "I knew I would be seeing you soon, Harry Potter. Your eyes are just like your mother's. She came here to buy her first wand—it feels like only yesterday. Ten and a quarter inches long, made of Willow, swishing nicely. A fine wand."

"Your father was different," Mr. Ollivander continued. "Mahogany, eleven inches, supple, and more powerful. It was excellent for Transfiguration. Your father liked it very much—though of course, it is the wand that chooses the wizard."

As he spoke, Mr. Ollivander leaned in, drawing very close to Harry.

"Your scar..." He reached out and brushed Harry's fringe aside, revealing the lightning-shaped scar. "I'm sorry. It was done by a wand I sold. Thirteen and a half inches, Yew, Phoenix Feather, very powerful, extremely powerful, but it fell into the hands of a bad man."

Without showing it, Harry took a step back and put some distance between himself and the boundaryless Mr. Ollivander.

"I forgive you," he said.