[ Harry feels like his heart's about to come up his throat and he has to swallow before it does. Perhaps it was the way he'd been following his father, not careful enough, or maybe it's just that his father has a sixth sense for stalkers, but he hadn't been expected to be caught out so quickly.
Maybe he should have quit while he was ahead, taken what small sighting of his father that he could, and then ... and then what?
He isn't even sure where he is, not really. This place ... it's Diagon Alley, of course it is, but it's not his Diagon Alley. There are things here that don't make sense, that aren't ... familiar.
And his father ...
Well, his father shouldn't be here either.
It takes a moment, maybe two, before Harry can gather his wits about him enough to come up with a clumsy response. And when he does, his voice comes out like a croak.
Is this really him? Is this really James Potter? ]
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Maybe he should have quit while he was ahead, taken what small sighting of his father that he could, and then ... and then what?
He isn't even sure where he is, not really. This place ... it's Diagon Alley, of course it is, but it's not his Diagon Alley. There are things here that don't make sense, that aren't ... familiar.
And his father ...
Well, his father shouldn't be here either.
It takes a moment, maybe two, before Harry can gather his wits about him enough to come up with a clumsy response. And when he does, his voice comes out like a croak.
Is this really him? Is this really James Potter? ]
Ah - Neville. My name's Neville.