Dudley Dursley and the Sorcerer's Stone

Chapter 4 - The Delights and Dangers of Diagon Alley

Chapter 4 - The Delights and Dangers of Diagon Alley

    The train pulled in at a station near London's center, and Hagrid and Dudley stepped off and walked a few blocks until they came to a small pub. Dudley noticed that none of the muggle passersby seemed to be able to see it (almost like magic!). Hagrid stopped in front of it and held up his hands.
    "One o' me favorite places!" exclaimed Hagrid gloriously. "The Leaky Cauldron! An' it's a famous place, all righ'. Nice an' pleasan'."
    But Dudley thought he could hear a lot of loud voices shouting from within, and just as they were about to move toward it, a crash was heard as a drunken man fell out of an upstairs window laughing. The man thudded to the ground and didn't move, but Hagrid only shrugged and steered Dudley inside.
    A chaotic scene met their eyes. A wild crowd was inhabiting the miniscule pub, laughing and shouting and swinging large bottles of brandy. Everyone was very obviously drunk and most appeared extraordinarily unshaven and unkept. Many were dancing or pouring the alcohol over themselves or grabbing people by the feet and arms and tossing them over tables. They all seemed to be having a good time and chatting merrily, if not altogether intelligibly. Dudley was intimidated by this wild scenario, but Hagrid went straight through the crowd, laughing and clapping them on the back. He motioned Dudley to follow him towards the bar, where a happy but also somewhat offsetting bartender stood, washing glasses and handing out bottles. Dudley moved quietly through the crowd. The bartender, he observed, was very bald and toothless. He was also quite short, due in part to his horrible, crouched posture. He was talking to Hagrid and passed him a particularly large bottle of brandy before Hagrid denied it.
    "Nah, I can', Tom," chuckled Hagrid. "On Hogwarts business. Very importan'.... well, maybe just a small drink."
    Tom the bartender poured a small glass for Hagrid when he noticed Dudley, who asked for a coke.
    "We only sell the strong stuff here, laddy," wheezed Tom with a snicker, but he actually began to pour Dudley a glass before Hagrid stopped him.
    "Tom, yeh know better than tha'."
    "Aye..."answered Tom, and he instead laid out the glass on the end of the bar (it was taken in a matter of seconds). "So who..." But Tom seemed to remember something. "Good Lord, Hagrid, this wouldn't be Harry Potter, would it?"
    The bar quieted at once. Every drunken head turned towards Dudley and smiled. Some old women in the corner of the room began to cheer, and several of the men offered Dudley their bottles. A few people began to bow down while others threw money towards him; everyone had taken their hats off at least.
    Hagrid seemed nervous, unsure of what to do and finally said, "Er, um, yeah, tha's him."
    The room exploded. Everyone fought their way towards Dudley, to shake his hand or kiss it.
    "Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back!"
    "Bless my soul, boy, it's an honor to meet you! An honor!"
    "Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter! So thrilled!"
    "Might I buy you a pint, Mr. Potter?"
    "Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter, would you please sign my forehead!"
    "Ooooh could you draw a scar on mine! Just like yours!"
    It was very fortunate that Hagrid had the wit to grab Dudley by the head at this point, because a couple or so of the people seemed suspicious when "Harry's" scar was missing. Hagrid smiled and waved shakily at the pub as he dragged Dudley out the opposite exit.
    "Won't you two stay a little longer?"
    "Take my money, Mr. Potter!"
    "No, no, um, we really mus' be goin' now," said Hagrid loudly, and the disappointed crowd thankfully resumed their drinking and left Hagrid and Dudley alone. Once Hagrid had gotten Dudley outside the pub (into what appeared to be a short, dead-end alley faced with solid brick walls on all sides), they escaped off to the corner and Hagrid took out a magic marker (literally magical, as it cursed and spit at the person holding it).
    "Hold still, Dudley," he said as he drew a lightning bolt on Dudley's forehead. "Not sure if I shoulda told 'em or not, but we might as well play it safe."
    Dudley was trembling slightly as Hagrid walked over to the end of the alley and faced the brick wall. He pulled out his umbrella and began poking the bricks as he mumbled.
    "Hmmm... let's see, twelve to the left, twenty-three off the top... six inches to the side.... yeah, here we go, Dudley. C'mere!"
    Dudley approached as Hagrid analyzed the spot on the wall he'd come to.
    "I think three or four times should do it. Alrigh', stan' back!"
    His umbrella transformed into a big, heavy stone mallet. He swung it over his back, took aim, and smashed it against the brick wall with incredible force. The wall screamed but did not yield, so Hagrid swung again, harder. Still the wall wailed on, but nothing else happened. Hagrid muttered something and his mallet's head doubled in size. Then he stepped back a few feet, took his mallet, and ran at the wall and swung. The mallet collided and finally tore apart the wall, which gave a last cry ("You monster! You're a big bully!") and crumbled. Hagrid's umbrella returned and he took Dudley's hand and guided him through the wall.
    They walked into a narrow but long, colorful street lined with hundreds of cutely decorated shops. Large, flashing posters were taped over the windows. The road was made of cobble and bore the weight of hundreds of witches and wizards, young and old, happily doing their shopping or getting something to eat. They were dressed in elaborate robes and tall hats. It was the most amazing thing Dudley thought he had ever seen. He saw restaurants advertising strange foods, shops selling magnificient creatures he had never seen before, boutiques offering wide ranges of potions and simmering liquids, and much more. One shop was showcasing beautifully crafted racing brooms while another was filled with exotic records and lined with posters of big-haired. tattooed, and obviously magical bands. Yet another shop displayed an extravagant assortment of jewel-encrested cauldrons, gold scales and telescopes, and a gigantic, intricately detailed oriental-style gong.
    "Welcome ter Diagon Alley!" yelled Hagrid with a smile.
    "It's incredible!" shouted Dudley breathlessly. He was dying to visit each and every store and see what was inside them, but Hagrid held him back.
    "Hold on, I've got a lis' o' all the stuff yeh need fer school righ' here," he said as he reached into a few of his pockets and eventually pulling out a piece of parchment Dudley recognized as having been in Harry's letter. It too started singing the song that its envelope had sung before Hagrid cast a spell on it, silencing it.
    "I actually like tha' song jus' fine, but I love ter use me wand when I can," said Hagrid. "But don' go tellin' anyone tha' if yeh don' mind. Strictly speakin', heh heh, I'm not s'posed ter use magic."
    Dudley found this piece of information slightly disconcerting, especially because Hagrid had already used quite a lot of magic. But Hagrid held out the letter and Dudley's curiousity overcame him.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY 

          UNIFORM
          First-year students will require:
              1. Three sets of plain work robes (any color other than magenta)
              2. One plain pointed hat (not magenta) for day wear
              3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar, not magenta)
              4. One winter cloak (not magenta, silver fastenings)


          COURSE BOOKS
          All students should have a copy of each of the following:
              The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
              A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
              Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
              A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
              One Thousand Magical Herb and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
              Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
              Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
              The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Preservation by Q. Trimble


          OTHER EQUIPMENT
          Students must also possess the following:
              1 Wand
              1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
              1 set glass or chrystal glass phials
              1 telescope
              1 set brass scales
          Students may also bring an owl, cat, or toad. Pure-bloods may bring a snake
          as well.

          Parents are reminded that first-years are not permitted broomsticks and that
          the color magenta is banned at Hogwarts.             

    "Firs' we need ter get yeh some money though," said Hagrid, rolling up the parchment and stuffing inside a pocket.
    "Right," said Dudley, a bit disappinted. It didn't sound as if he would be able to get much of the stuff the shops were selling. "Which way is Gringotts?"
    "Jus' a little ways down, aroun' a corner," answered Hagrid. "Built by goblins, so obviously it looks a li'l shitty, but at leas' we can find it alrigh' tha' way."
    As they walked through the bustling crowd (many of whom squealed excitedly at Dudley's forehead), Dudley's head spun continuously, basking in the thrill of the wizard world. Everywhere children were practically kissing the windows of shops.  An entire legion of boys around Dudley's age were gazing in delight at the broom housed inside the store called Bert and Brutus' Broomstick Bonanza. Another shop called Eeylops Owl Emporium was filled with fluttering owls of shapes and sizes. Obviously Hagrid wasn't quite as entranced at the alley's offerings as Dudley was, but he did linger a bit when they passed by Ed the Magic Man's Liquor.
    When they turned a corner and approached where Hagrid had said Gringotts was, Dudley was surprised. Far from the dunghill Hagrid had described, Gringotts was built like an authoritative and majestic coliseum. Great white stone pillars rose from the ground and held up the bank's magnificiently adorned roof. A wide and fine staircase rose from teh ground to where the entrance was, and it was lined with large statues of creatures Dudley assumed were goblins. The statues were elegantly sculpted. They depicted fierce but romantic warrior-like demi-humans dressed in Greek-style togas and clutching bows and arrows.
    "Told yeh. Dumb animals, goblins," muttered Hagrid. He and Dudley walked up the staircase and approached the two solid-gold doors that were the bank's entrance. Just before Hagrid opened one, Dudley read a few words that had been smeered across them:

GOBLINS R TURDS

    Hagrid chuckled. Then he opened the door to the right and they walked into the bank. Inside was a large round room with a twelve foot tall circular desk stretched out against the back. Behind the desk, in equally as high chairs, sat ten or so goblins wearing powdered wigs and clean cut black suits. They certainly did not resemble the statues outside, for these goblins appeared to be short and quite stately looking. Their faces were humanoid but their noses were long, their teeth were pointed and their skin was a sickly yellowish hue. Even so, they appeared to be intelligent, despite Hagrid's comments, for they were operating many scales and eyepieces and other odd mechanizations that Dudley couldn't recognize.
    As Hagrid and Dudley approached the desk, the goblins smiled kindly.
    "Salutations, wizard friends! Would you like a complementary cookie basket?" asked the goblin at the center of the desk.
    But Hagrid marched straight towards the desk. His head was just barely level with the goblin he addressed. "We don' wan' yer damn cookies! They probably taste like shit anyway!"
    Dudley was surprised, but Hagrid smacked the basket, which fell off the desk and flung cookies all over the ground. The goblin looked affronted, but also intimidated. "I see, uh, sir. Terribly sorry. How may I help you?"
    "Jus' get us inside the Potters' vault, yeh stupid creature."
    Hagrid held up a small iron key, which the goblin took and examined for a second before answering, "Very well, sir, it seems to be in order." Despite what had just occured, he was perfectly polite.
    Hagrid spoke up again as the goblin who was sitting at the desk assigned the task to the goblin on his left. "Oh, an' I've got ter take tha' somethin' outta vault seven-hundred an' thirteen. Got Dumbledore's letter explainin' it all righ' here, if yeh can even read." And he handed the letter to goblin, taking care to not touch the goblin's hand.
    The goblin read the letter slowly and then nodded and returned it to Hagrid. "Very well then. Griphook will take you there."
    He pointed them to the right, where another short goblin with a mean-looking face and a long pipe in his mouth stood against a large bronze door. He didn't speak but led them through the door, which opened into a dark tunnel. Hagrid and Dudley followed Griphook for a little ways until he brought them to a small cart. Griphook stood back and gestured for them to climb in, but then he glanced at them and saw why they were still standing there.
    "Oh, you two are quite the huskies," he said, clearly resentful of Hagrid's behavior in the lobby. He snapped, and the cart tripled in size, which was just barely large enough for Hagrid and Dudley to squeeze in the back of the cart uncomfortably. Griphook hopped into the front, which was quite too big for him now, and took the steering wheel. The cart moved forward, sluggishly at first, until it came to a steep drop. Dudley saw the drop approaching them, and he panicked.
    "Let me off! Let me off!"
    Griphook turned around and leered at Dudley before blowing smoke in his face. "No can do."
    The cart went over the edge and sped madly down a slope, almost completely in freefall. The tracks veered to the left and to the right over and over as they twisted through the citadels of Gringotts. What was worse, the cavern was very dimly lit, and every turn came at a complete surprise. Dudley was vomitting horribly, which flew against his face and shirt with the speed of the cart. Unbelievably, Hagrid was vomitting even more violently, but as he was bending down in the cart, his sick was splashing against Dudley's ankles. Both were waving at the goblin to slow down, but if Griphook could tell what they wanted, the only thing he did was go faster. They came to a clearing where vast mounds of treasure were visible below the stretch of rock their cart was flying across. Dudley stopped throwing up long enough to look down below, but they left the clearing and delved back into a deep dark labyrinth. After what seemed like an eternity, the cart slowed to a stop in front of a tall, iron door marked with an image of a goblin similar to the statues they'd seen before. Griphook climbed out of the cart and inserted the key into the door, but the door wouldn't budge.
    "Hmmm.... this one's a bit old, I suppose," he said, and he gave the door a kick.
    The door vanished, and a bright light soared out. Dudley covered his eyes until they adjusted, but when he looked inside, he saw a large room filled to the brim with gold and jewels - and several skeletons.
    Dudley yelled. "There are skeletons in here!"
    "Yes, we sometimes trap prisoners in the vaults, usually the deeper ones so their families can't find them as easily," Griphook answered with a cackle.
    "Yeah, well, we'll jus' take some o' it," said Hagrid weakly, and he scooped up several of the large, gold galleons in his man-purse, which he put in his biggest back pocket. "An' can we go a li'l slower to vault seven-hundred an' thirteen?"
    "My shift ends in just five minutes," said Griphook as he climbed back into the cart. "We go faster."
    They hurried downwards to vault 713 despite Hagrid and Dudley's protests and upchucks. When they entered another clearing, they saw another cart carrying a family of wizards who were chatting animatedly to their goblin escort. Dudley tried making conversation with Griphook, but Griphook was evidently a particularly unpleasant sort of goblin. He jabbed Dudley in the eye (or he may have been giving him the finger) and said nothing.
    They reached another door, this time intricate and gold, but it had no keyhole. Instead, Griphook tickled the door, which giggled and opened. However, the room inside was neither large nor rich. The only thing within it was a small package, which Hagrid grabbed.
    "What is that, Hagrid?"
    "Oh, er, I'm not s'posed ter tell yeh that, Dudley. An' don' ask, 'cause I'm horrible at keepin' secrets."
    But before Hagrid stuffed the package in his pocket, his hand slipped and he dropped it. A blue, jagged stone rolled out of the wrapping. Hagrid cursed and picked it up.
    They were driving back up through the mine. They went so fast that Dudley blacked out, but not before he heard Griphook mutter, "You know, kid, you could probably do well with getting your fat stomach pumped now that you're not dirt poor."

    When Dudley came to, they had emerged in the marvelous lobby. The politer goblin waved them off (a wave Hagrid did not return), and they walked out the bank to Diagon Alley. About an hour had passed by in Gringotts, and the crowd of people that had been hogging the streets had diminished slightly. Dudley was ready to go and buy everything he could, but Hagrid insisted they start with his robes.
    "I jus' think it's better fer us to get yeh lookin' like a wizard before we explore aroun' too much."
    They began to make their way towards Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, but when they were passing by the liquor store, Hagrid caved.
    "Me an' Ed are good friends. You'll understan', righ'?" he said, and he rushed inside, leaving Dudley to buy his robes alone.
    He walked inside the shop. It was mostly empty, as it was now lunchtime, but a pale-skinned, blonde boy Dudley's age was standing on a pedestal, arms outstretched, as a squat witch was fitting his robes. Dudley came towards them and listened in on their conversation (though it was mostly the boy speaking) while he waited to be fitted.
    "...and my father says he might buy me an airplane so I won't have to ride the school train with all of the riffraff. I think it's a fabulous idea myself, but my mother thinks I should take the train and make some friends. Well of course I told her how popular I am and that I don't need to try to make friends, but she's not incredibly smart. And I - hey! Watch it! That's my arm, woman! It's worth more than this entire street!"
    "I apologize, dear," cried the witch. "Um, I'll need to run to the back and find something to stitch this up with. Be right back!"
    The witch, who Dudley realized must be Madam Malkin, ran behind the counter to the backroom. Dudley saw a chair near the blond boy, and he sat down. The boy turned his head to see who had sat down, but as soon as he saw Dudley he burst out laughing.
    "What on earth are you supposed to be?"
    "Uh... I'm..." muttered Dudley.
    "Another Hogwarts student then?" asked the boy, posing at a nearby mirror. His voice was very nasal and snobby.
    "Yeah... er, I'm Dudley Dursley" said Dudley bashfully, but he wished he hadn't said his real name as soon as the words left this mouth.
    "Should be an exciting year, I expect," said the boy pompously, not actually listening to Dudley's responses. "Obviously my parents went there too, when they were our age. They say it's a pretty decent place, but my father laments that Dumbledore is the headmaster. The man's such a mudblood lover, you know."
    "Er, yeah," said Dudley, clueless as to what a "mudblood" was.
    "I mean, I suppose it would be alright to leave the mudbloods alone... in cages perhaps," said the boy, "but to let them get an education? Makes you want to gag, doesn't it? Imagine them sliming up all our offices and shops! Well, if I had my way, only blond-haired, blue-eyed white boys pure-bloods would be admitted."
    The boy stopped looking at his reflection and turned to Dudley suddenly.
    "You are the good kind of wizard, aren't you?"
    "Um, yeah!" said Dudley, slightly defensively. The boy was making him nervous.
    "That's good," said the boy. "My name's Malfoy by the way. Draco Malfoy. Pure-blood obviously. I daresay I expect preferential treatment at school. What's your surname?"
    Dudley hesitated, but gave a different answer this time. "Potter."
    The boy's eyes widened. "Really? You have the scar and everything!?" He looked at Dudley's forehead and then at his gut. "You're a lot bigger than I thought you would be."
    But he stepped off his stool and held out his hand to Dudley. "Still, we can work on that I suppose. Maybe we can start some kind of pure-blood club!"
    Dudley didn't want to shake Malfoy's hand; he felt thoroughly unmagical now and feared Malfoy might detect it. But just at that moment, Hagrid came into view (or at least, the bottom half of him), wobbling dangerously outside the window. Malfoy looked over at the window and snickered.
    "Good gracious, what is that?"
    "That's Hagrid!" exclaimed Dudley proudly.
    Malfoy let out a harsh laugh. "Oh, him! I've heard of him. He's, like, some wierd troll cross-breed, isn't he?"
    Dudley hadn't considered this. It suddenly seemed very likely, but Dudley responded, "No, I think he's just big..."
    Malfoy seemed disappointed by Dudley's unwilling responses. "Well, I guess you would say that," he said, eyeing Dudley's unnatural circumference.
    Hagrid bowed down and peered through the window. When he saw Dudley, he smiled and waved, a sight Malfoy evidently found entertaining.
    "Why're you with him anyways? Why aren't you with your... oh, that's right! Your parents are dead, aren't they!" Malfoy said insensitively. He laughed. "I forgot!"
    At last Madam Malkin hobbled back and finished Malfoy's robes. "There you are, darling! You're all finished up! What do you think?"
    Malfoy examined his robes. Dudley thought they looked exquisite, but Malfoy merely answered, "Well if that's really the best you can do."
    Madam Malkin's cheerful face froze and her eye twitched slightly, but Malfoy simply walked out with his "adequate" robes and was gone.
    Dudley sat stood up on the stool Malfoy had occupied seconds ago, but it crumbled under his weight. Madam Malkin recovered and turned to attend to Dudley. She seemed quite stung by Malfoy's dissatisfaction. She was further frustrated in her efforts to fit Dudley into one of her robes.
    "I am sorry," she snapped at Hagrid a few minutes later, "but we simply do not have any robes big enough for this boy!"
    And she rushed them out of her store, aggrieved. Dudley turned around, but she'd already locked the door and boarded up the windows. The OPEN sign had changed to CLOSED - MOURNING.
    "Wha' got into her?" wondered Hagrid, confused. "Did anythin' happen when yeh were in there, Dudley?"
    Dudley explained about the blond boy. When he finished, Hagrid was frowning and shaking his head.
    "Don' let him bother yeh, Dudley. The Malfoys are jus' rich snobs who think they're better than everyone else."
    "Hagrid, what do you think will happen if people find out I'm a muggle?" Dudley whispered.
    Hagrid bit his hairy lower lip. "Well... well, let's jus' not worry 'bout tha' righ' now. Let's get the res' o' yer stuff."
    "But what about my robes?"
    "I guess I'll have ter sew yeh some meself," said Hagrid, but he drew his chest out proudly. "Don' fret though. I'm grea' at sewing!"
    But if Hagrid was as good at sewing as he was cooking, Dudley thought he'd be looking pretty ridiculous at Hogwarts. Maybe he could borrow Hagrid's coat, but the sheer size of it scared him. He might even get lost in the pockets considering Fang hadn't been seen for a while.
    Dudley was quiet for some time while they bought a few of his neccessary supplies. The book store was wildly magical, with books flying over shelves or through loops, books growling and fighting each other in cages (a few people were seen placing money on these different books before the wizarding police arrived), and books having a shouting match over big sales.
    "Aye, laddy, I'm 30% off!"
    "If you get one of me, you can get my brother here for free!"
    "Please! Get me out of here!" shouted one of the books in the cage.
    But Dudley was too put out with growing anxiety to thoroughly enjoy the store. Hagrid went and searched for the items on Dudley's booklist while Dudley went down a random aisle to think. As he turned a corner, he ran into a couple of boys pouring over a large encyclopedia littered with broomstick specifics. One of the boys was sandy-haired and appeared to be quite knowledgeable of the contents of the book, as he was pointing out a constant stream of facts to the boy beside him, who was distinctly red-haired and freckly.   
    "I hope I'm in Gryffindor like my brothers," stated the red-haired boy in an unusually high voice.
    "Yeah, that's the best house me mum says," said the sandy-haired boy. "There are four houses, aren't there?"
    "Yeah," answered the red-haired boy.
    "Well whatever house I'm in, I can't wait to try out for the school Quidditch teams!" exclaimed the sandy-haired boy.
    Dudley made to step out and introduce himself to the two boys, but Hagrid had purchased all of Dudley's books and grabbed him by the arm, leading him out the door. Dudley's head was once again swimming with questions as they headed down towards the way of Gringotts, only they turned the other way when they approached the corner.
    "Hagrid, what're houses?"
    Hagrid looked confused. "Wha'?"
    "Um, the houses. Like, aren't there four of them?"
    "Oh yeah! The houses're like yer family, I s'pose yeh could say. I think there are four o' them now (there were five before the mishap with the bridge). They're called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, an' Slytherin."
    "What's Gryffindor like?"
    "Well, they're s'posed ter be the braves' ones, but I always though' they were sort o' overrated."
    "Which house were you in?"
    "Good ol' Hufflepuff. Bes' house o' 'em all." 
    Dudley still had a lot of questions, but he didn't know what to say, and Hagrid seemed tired of answering question. But as they started making their way towards a shop at the end of the street, Dudley couldn't hold his tongue any longer.
    "Hagrid, what's a mudblood?"
    Hagrid gasped and smacked Dudley across the cheek; his strength propelled Dudley through the air ten feet away, though luckily his fall was cushioned by a pudgy boy his age that he landed on top of.
    "Neville!" screamed an elderly lady in a nightmarishly outdated green coat and large reptillian hat, who rushed over and struck Dudley with her handbag. It was as solid as a rock and weighed nearly as much as the boy Dudley was sitting on. Dudley yelled and got up.
    "Neville! Speak to me!" cried the lady, but the boy named Neville only made a pained gurgling noise and lay motionless. Hagrid grabbed Dudley by the arm and dragged him away from the scene.
    "Don' wan' yeh ter be brough' in fer questionin'," muttered Hagrid. They walked some thirty feet away and Hagrid got Dudley on his feet again. "Sorry 'bout tha'. Don' know me own strength. But don' say tha' word, Dudley."
    "Why not? What does it mean?"
    "It's a really foul name fer wizards from muggle parents," explained Hagrid. "A lot o' wizards frown on 'em an' call 'em names. I mean, I s'pose they do have some kind o' stench, but they can do magic, an' tha's good enough fer me."
    He suddenly turned to Dudley. "Don' you worry 'bout a thin', Dudley! I'm sure Dumbledore can fin' somethin' that'll get yeh some magic powers. In the meantime, let's get the res' o' yer stuff. I think all we really need now is your wand."
    He pointed Dudley at the small shop at the end of street, called Ollivanders: Makers of Adequate to Fine Wands. It was shabby and worn-out and smelled strongly of decaying parchment.
    They approached the door, which was small and crooked. Dudley had to butter himself down to squeeze through, and Hagrid could only get down on all fours and fit his head through. The interior of the shop was very small, and the front counter was only five or six feet from the door. Behind the counter was a tall wall completely covered with small drawers and boxes. They piled high, twenty feet up to the ceiling. Dudley was becoming dizzy, partly because of the number of boxes but mostly because the place had a horrible stench of old people.
    Suddenly something dropped off a tall ladder that stood against the back wall and landed behind the counter. Dudley jumped back and accidentally elbowed Hagrid in the face. A skeletal old man stood up behind the counter and stared directly at Dudley with a terrible, wide grin that revealed dirty, brown teeth. The smell that hung in the air became incredibly intense as he approached Dudley (instead of going around the counter, he climbed over it, barefoot) until he was nose to nose with him.
    "Ah, you're quite a lot bigger than I expected," whispered the old man, who's nametag read Ollivander, "but that's all as well. I like them fat, myself."
    The man bowed and took off his moth-eaten hat, which revealed a dirty, balding scalp. Hagrid spoke up, "This is Ollivander, Dudley. He sells wands."
    Hagrid's eyes widened and he covered his mouth, but it was too late. Ollivander immediately straightened up and stopped smiling creepily. "What did you say, Hagrid?"
    "Er, I mean' ter say Harry! Tha's Harry alrigh'!" exclaimed Hagrid but the jig was up. Dudley looked nervously at Ollivander who climbed over his counter and dug his hand into a bowl of candies. He looked at Dudley inquiringly as he took a bite (the candies were nasty, with a sickening crunch like dead roaches).
    "Who is this, Hagrid?" he wheezed breathlessly. He seemed to be upset, but he displayed it strangely, for he was still smiling slightly.
    "Er, this is a cousin o' Harry's, an' he's, er, even more magical," answered Hagrid sheepishly.
    "I was very dearly wanting to meet the great Harry Potter, Hagrid," said Ollivander slowly, relishing the candies, "but I s'pose I can overlook this."
    He went back and climbed the ladder he'd fallen from. After climbing ten feet, he pulled out an armful of boxes and layed them on the counter. "Try them. See which one tickles your fancy." He had regained his manic grin.
    Dudley opened a first box; it contained a long, dark magic wand. Dudley felt a rush of excitement and worry; the entire shop seemed to be infected with heavy magic, so that the weight fo it was caving in on Dudley. Would he be able to make the wand do anything? What if Ollivander found out he was a muggle? Did Ollivander eat muggles perhaps?
    "Go on, big bones, try it out..."
    Dudley gave the wand an enormous wave, but nothing whatsoever happened. Ollivander, however, seemed only mildly displeased and handed Dudley a different wand. He gave it a twirl, but again nothing happened.
    "Well these are only adequate wands, I suppose," muttered Ollivander. "You two didn't look like you had enough money for a fine wand. See, poor people deserve mediocrity..."
    But when Dudley had failed to conjure anything with his twelfth wand, Ollivander pulled out a few higher quality wands and handed them to Dudley ("I daresay I can find some form of payment for you..."). Still, Dudley's frantic movements did nothing to fire sparks or spells. Ollivander had collected a mountain of wands for Dudley to try, but none of them were any more effective than faggots (yes, I said it) of wood.
    "What the hell is wrong with you, boy!?" yelled Ollivander, violently shaking Dudley. "Can't you summon the meanest of spells? Are you quite sure you should even be here!?"
    Dudley was starting to tear up. He was scared of what Ollivander (who was seriously terrifying Dudley) would do if he couldn't make a wand work. He looked around frantically for another wand, but there was only one wand left.
    Dudley took the wand (amidst Ollivander's rages) and held it up, but then something odd happened. The wand began to shine brightly, and angelic voices could be heard singing from the heavens in a beautiful symphony. But to Dudley, voices in your head and glowing objects were bad omens, and he closed his eyes, cowered down, and waved the wand away from his body, fearing the worst. And to Dudley's horror, the wand shot an enormous stream of fireworks and multi-colored flames which careened into the back wall and ignited it. Boxes exploded and drawers were scorched. Many fireworks were strong enough to actually break through the walls of the shop completely. It was a miracle the store stayed intact (or atleast, the roof was still aloft and only half of the boxes of wands had been destroyed).
    But Ollivander couldn't have been more pleased. "Excellent, excellent! Beautiful form!" he said.
    He snatched the wand from Dudley's outstretched hand and rushed behind the counter (and atop the rubble that had fallen) to his cash register. He was evidently in admiration of the raw destruction that Dudley had inflicted and unconcerned with the damage to his property, though Dudley was completely clueless as to how he had done it. Hagrid seemed to be bewildered as well, because he was mumbling incoherently and slightly retardedly.
    But just as Ollivander held out the wand to Dudley, a noise came from behind and Malfoy's head could be seen sticking through a window.
    "I want that wand!" he said loudly in his drawling, nasal voice.
    Ollivander laughed. "Terribly sorry, young master, but this boy here has already chosen it."
    "I'll pay a hundred galleons for that thing!" and he threw a sack of gold onto the counter without waiting for an answer. His price was apparently a lot though, because Ollivander immediately forgot about Dudley and gladly handed Malfoy the wand.
    "But that's my wand!" cried Dudley, but all he had to offer was a fraction of Malfoy's offer. Ollivander deposited the 100 galleons in his cash register before addressing Dudley coldly.
    "I'm sorry, but I have no idea what you're talking about, young sir," he said gleefully. "Now begone!"