Four days later, Saturnine and Harry Apparated in a back alley in the middle of Muggle London. It was a warm summer day, and he could hear the bustling noises of the city coming in from the main road. It was a jarring departure from the quietude of Cornwall, and now that he was away from the coast, the air felt unbearably warm and stuffy to Harry.

“Clothes first,” she told him. “Weasleys’ Wheezes later, if you behave.”

Harry gave her a bright smile in response. If he could get any treats on top of his school things, he would be on his best behaviour. And, thus, they set out on a shopping spree.

They were both dressed in jeans, and Harry wore a loose white t-shirt with the logo of a music band he’d never heard of, while Saturnine had chosen one of her trademark hoodies. For a witch, she blended well with the Muggles; with her wand hidden in a sheath that she wore around her forearm beneath her clothes, nothing gave her away.

She led Harry to a large store that he’d never been to but seemed to sell a bit of everything. She knew her way around and had no trouble directing them to the correct sections. They got four pair of jeans in various shades of blue and two pairs of black slacks. They also bought two pairs of shoes—and boy, did it feel good to step into something that was the right size for once. Finally, they purchased five t-shirts, three jumpers, and—upon Saturnine’s insistence—three warmer sweaters.

Harry felt queasy when they neared the cashier’s desk, and he was glad he’d had a light breakfast. But Saturnine stepped forward when they reached the desk, and she paid for everything with no fuss as if she went about and bought armloads of clothes for teenagers she barely knew every day. No one had ever done that for him, and the kindness and sheer simplicity of the gesture brought tears to Harry’s eyes. When Saturnine caught him furiously rubbing at them, he pretended they were still itching from when they’d crossed through the perfume aisle.

Once out of sight in the alley they’d Apparated to, the dark-haired witch shrunk the bags, and she placed them in the pouch she had slung over her shoulder. Then she turned to Harry with a pinched expression.

“Don’t fret, but I can’t be seen walking down Diagon Alley looking like that,” she replied.

Harry nodded, thinking she meant her Muggle clothes. But when she raised her wand over her head, and a charm shimmied its way down her hair and face, he took a step back in surprise. As he watched, her long dark hair—which she had worn unplaited for the first time in forever—shortened and assumed a strawberry-blond hue. Her blue eyes became green and widened to take a slight almond shape. Her nose buttoned up as her cheeks rounded, and she lost about ten years in just as many seconds.

“Wow!” Harry said as he stared in awe at the stranger facing him. If he’d ran into her without knowing who it was, he would never have recognised her. “How long will that hold?”

“About two hours,” Saturnine replied, and Harry was glad to note her voice remained the same.

“Wicked!”

“Don’t forget to call me Leen at all times,” she said before reaching for his arm and Apparating them away.

Diagon Alley was brimming with activity. The London cobblestoned wizarding alley and shopping area was full of students and parents huddling from shop to shop to retrieve the books and equipment pupils needed for Hogwarts. Between tottering piles of spell books, quills, rolls of parchment, potion bottles, and globes of the moon, Harry felt the familiar buzz of excitement he’d felt every year as the new school term descended upon them. He was ready to go back, eager to learn more about the Wizarding World, and dying to reunite with his friends.

No sooner had he thought that than a familiar high-pitched voice called his name through the crowd. Turning on his heel, Harry saw, under a mess of untameable brown locks, Hermione’s familiar beaming face. Her rosy lips were stretched into a warm smile, and she dashed for him, throwing her arms around his lithe figure in a bone-crushing embrace the instant she was close enough.

Harry was surprised that her arms were free to do so; he’d half-expected the brightest witch of her age to be carrying around at least a book or two by now—if not half a dozen. When he caught sight of his red-haired best friend, his wondering came to a stop. Ron was lagging behind, strenuously making his way through the throngs of students. With the large pile of books he was balancing in his arms, the young wizard had a much harder time parting the crowd.

“All right there, mate?” Harry asked with a grin; it wasn’t hard to see where Hermione’s books had gone.

“That—” Ron started, then paused to draw in a deep breath, “—is only for the optional classes. Can you believe it?” Another breath. “We’ve yet to get our books for the regular classes. She’s mental, that one, I’m telling you.”

“Oi!” Hermione said, mock stomping on his foot. “I heard that, you know.”

Harry was smiling in earnest now, realising how much he’d missed his friends and the easy-going camaraderie the three of them had.

“Leen and I just got here,” he said, indicating the witch standing by his side. Ron and Hermione did a double take at that, though they both refrained from commenting on her charmed appearance aloud.

“Want to shop with us?” Ron asked, eagerly. “You could help me carry those?”

Harry turned a hopeful gaze towards the woman by his side. At her nod, he reached forward to take three heavy volumes from Ron.

They were soon on their way to Flourish and Blotts, where they were sure to find all the necessary manuals for the compulsory classes. Their shopping continued with a visit to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, where Harry got two new sets of robes and Gryffindor uniforms. Then they made a stop at Broomsticks, where both Quidditch players re-stocked up on care products for their trusted brooms.

By the time they were done with their supply run, Harry—who had been on his best behaviour throughout—was practically bouncing from foot to foot. He kept glancing up at Saturnine to gauge her mood, searching for the best moment to make his request.

The witch had behaved as she had earlier that day at the clothes shop, paying for every single one of Harry’s purchase without a fuss and never once raising an eyebrow at the amount that was asked of her. And that was part of the reason why Harry felt bad for asking for more—and yet, she had said that he could stop by the Weasley twins’ shop if he behaved, hadn’t she?

“Is there something you wanted, Harry?” Saturnine asked as they walked past Gringotts Wizarding Bank’s columned entrance.

Hiding a grin, he said evadingly, “Well, we’re not far from 93 Diagon Alley, and there’s a store I wanted to check there.” Ron snorted by his side, having recognised the address. “That is, if you don’t mind, of course,” Harry hurried to add.

“Ah, and which wee workplace would that be?” Saturnine asked, mirth obvious in her voice. “Well, I wonder if that wouldn’t be the wondrous Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes?” she asked, cramming in as many Ws as she could in a single sentence. “I did say that we could stop by. Lead the way, lad.”

And Harry did—or rather he followed Ron without seeming too obvious about it. For all that he’d paid to help kick-start the establishment, he had yet to see it for himself. And what a sight it was. The light-blue street-corner building was one of a kind and could be seen from the other end of the street. A giant sculpture of a smiling Weasley twin sat above the front door with a white rabbit atop its ginger hair. A mechanical arm holding a top hat moved up and down, hiding and revealing the rabbit, in turn. Well, it sets the tone, Harry thought, delighted.

The inside of the shop was even better. Every stall and shelf was covered in what amounted to a wizard child’s dream. There were hundreds of practical joke objects, such as Extendable Ears, a Reusable Hangman, Skiving Snackboxes, and Fred and George’s unique WonderWitch products, such as Love Potions, Ten-Second Pimple Vanishers, and Pygmy Puffs. In another section, Harry found an entire display of Muggle Magic Tricks that he hurried to point out to Saturnine, thinking she might be more interested than most in those. A full range of fireworks completed the ensemble, including the famous Weasleys’ Wildfire Whiz-Bangs and no less than twenty other new, creative pyrotechnic products. And, of course, a rack full of sweets stood near the till.

Harry knew to be cautious around any sweets invented by the infamous twins. He had not forgotten the Ton-Tongue Toffee they had experimented with on his cousin Dudley. While it had been fun to see his fat cousin suffer its ill-effects, he had no wish to find himself with a rapidly swelling tongue turning purple.

When Harry reached the till half an hour later, he had an armload of Weasley products. Saturnine was still by the Muggle Magic section, and he fully intended to buy these himself. It was one thing to have the adult in charge buy his school supplies and clothes, but candies and jokes in a box were items he ought to buy with his own pocket money.

The ginger-haired twins stopped him with two identical raised palms and a matching set of gentle smiles.

“Harry, you help yourself to anything you want, all right?” said George. “No charge.”

“I can’t do that!” he protested, eyebrows drawing together in confusion.

“You don’t pay here—you gave us our start-up loan. We haven’t forgotten,” added Fred. “Take whatever you like, and just remember to tell people where you got it if they ask.”

Harry could have done without the reminder. While the shop was the Weasley twins’ dream, the seed money for it had been Harry’s Triwizard Tournament 1,000 Galleon winnings. He hadn’t thought twice about lending out the cash they needed to kick-start their business, not wanting anything to do with that blood money that reminded him of Cedric Diggory’s death and his close encounter with Voldemort.

Then, turning towards Ron who stood by Harry’s side, Fred said, “That’s three Galleons, nine Sickles, and a Knut. Cough up.”

“I’m your brother!” protested Ron.

George huffed, and his brother grimaced; it would seem blood-bounds held no place in business transactions. “And that’s our stuff you’re nicking.”

The trio and Saturnine were out of the shop some ten minutes later, each with an armload of products that were sure to raise hell in Hogwarts. And Harry could almost kid himself into thinking that this was a typical outing for them. But he hadn’t missed the familiar faces of Tonks and Shacklebolt in the crowd earlier. And he was pretty sure he’d caught sight of Moody in the mirror’s reflection while he tried on clothes at Madam Malkin’s. Harry understood that the entire day had been arranged. The Order of the Phoenix had taken all the necessary precautions to ensure his safety while he went about Diagon Alley with his friends. He knew this probably had to do with the role he was expected to play in the war, but a small part of himself liked to believe that it was because they cared.

“It’s now time we took our leave,” Saturnine said, as she moved closer to grab Harry’s hand. “It’s been nice seeing you,” she said to Ron and Hermione, with a sincere smile.

The three friends exchanged their goodbyes, and then Saturnine Apparated them both away.