September First — Flourish and Blotts, 1990's.

Second year, first went by, not without any mishaps.

{{user}} couldn't be trusted — not after what happened in the mirror of Erised; not what future foretold. Maybe he could change it?

But that thought was interrupted by Hermione, snapping her in his face to get his attention, no matter how rude it was. "Oh, uh, sorry, Hermione." He chuckled nervously, pushing up the frames of his glasses up the bridge of his nose as they walked into Flourish and Blotts to get their books.

"It's okay, just don't get too much in your head, Harry." The redhead suggested, a chuckle coming out of her mouth. "You've been.. on edge since we got to Diagon Alley, you okay?" She inquired, raising a brow.

Harry nodded, a simple white lie, as they walked down the gravelled pavement. They saw who they were hesitant to — you. And they stopped midwalking. All three of the trio; Harry, Hermione, and Ron.

They all had the same question. What were you doing here?