Dethmagik: A Harry Potter/Metalocalypse Fanfiction

Chapter 1

      Harry's first year of magical school came to a frightening end, what with finding out Voldemort was still alive, and now it was time to go 'home'. Though he had never considered Privet Drive anything of the sort and his relatives were neglectful at best and abusive at worst, Professor Dumbledore refused to allow him to stay at Hogwarts for the summer Holidays as living with his aunt would be 'safer'. How the senile old goat came up with that bit of nonsense, Harry had no clue. In all honesty, it was a wonder how the Dursleys avoided the attention of Child Services for so long. So, before leaving the school, Harry made plans to avoid staying with his relatives, even if he couldn’t stay at Hogwarts. 

      He'd done quite a lot of reading about the magical world, despite all the obstacles in the way of his access to books, such as Hagrid cutting his time in the book shop when buying supplies, Ron getting them both kicked out of the Library by being a loud and clingy bastard, and Hermione snatching his books to see what they were, only never returning them to him. She used the excuse of needing them just because they were used to teach Muggle-borns about the magical world, disregarding the fact that Harry was raised by Muggles and would need them just as much. Through much use of his invisibility cloak for late-night trips to the library, he'd learned much of the information he'd needed to know for at least his first year. Some of it came a little too late, such as the fact that he'd given Malfoy a grave insult on the train by not shaking his hand. He'd also found a Guide to Magical Britain that he planned to use to have as good of a summer as possible.

      When the train came to a full stop and the students began to stampede out, Harry used the chaos to don his invisibility cloak and make his way to the fireplaces he could see in a far corner. One of the books he'd read detailed the different types of magical travel there were. He'd planned to use floo travel to get to Diagon Alley, thereby avoiding his relatives by not leaving the magical area of Kings Cross, and stay at one of the guest houses on a side street of the Alley mentioned in the Guide. He'd already said his goodbyes. It was just a matter of getting to the floo. His only real deterrent was his clingy 'friends' who he'd managed to ditch in the first wave of students off the train. It was just as he'd thrown the floo powder and said his destination that he saw a flash of red looking frantically for him.

      'Tosser,' Harry thought nastily before all his thoughts were taken up with the whirling, dizzying ride. For those a little confused with his behaviour, Harry was a good child (mostly) who had considered Ron his friend… at first… but the redhead had been clinging to Harry 24/7 since the beginning of the school year and was one of the contributing factors of all the trouble he'd been in by accepting duels for him to fight, starting fights, making Hermione miss the Halloween Feast and troll warning and nearly getting them all killed by making her miserable enough to spend the day in the toilet, pushing and prodding at him to keep an eye on Snape and the Stone… On top of all that, Harry literally couldn’t even go to the loo without him tagging along. To make matters worse, the Red Menace (as Harry had begun to think of him) wouldn’t let anyone else near him, preventing him from making too many friends. It was annoying, to say the least.

      As his trip came to an ungraceful end, with him tumbling out on his arse, he did a quick recheck of his to-do list. His first stop for the summer, and last for the day, was Featherdown Way. That was one of the side streets he'd read about in “A Guide to Magical Britain” in the school's library. It was where most of the Alley's guest houses were and had some of the best Bed and Breakfasts in the country. In the morning, he'd start with Gringotts to look into his finances, followed by shopping for a new trunk and wardrobe. He didn’t make too many plans for the day as he knew finding the right sizes and prices for and buying new clothing would take a while. He'd then go to Flourish and Blott's to get some of the more useful books he'd seen referenced but weren't available in the school library.

It was shaping up to be a good summer, if he could get to his first stop without being seen. Thankfully, he'd had the foresight to shrink his trunk before leaving the school. Less to carry. As he trudged along down the Alley, he contemplated asking if it were possible to get a shrinking charm of some sort put on a trunk that could be activated without magic. He'd read about a restriction on under-age magic outside of school. Strangely enough, this restriction only goes into effect when a student enters the grounds of a magic school for the first time, not before. It lasts until they reach magical adulthood, which is 17 as opposed to the Muggle 18. He'd be able to use as much magic as he wanted to as long as he stayed in a magical area, due to the fact that it would be impossible to tell who cast what, but he might want to visit the muggle world.

      In any case, he didn't need anything out of his trunk as he'd taken out his money pouch and invisibility cloak (which he'd yet to take off). Harry wasn't sure if it was his new celebrity status or some paranoid instinct, but something was telling him to use a bit of stealth to avoid being seen by anyone. It was for this reason that he only removed his cloak when he was near his destination and no one was around. The guest house he chose was cosy and inexpensive, simply named "Ma Ofdensen's". It was a rather homey place run by a softer version of Molly Weasley, a motherly widow named Agnes  Ofdensen. She took one look at Harry and practically adopted him. She patted his cheeks, told him how adorable he was and how much he reminded her of her little Charlie and began to coddle him, yet not in the overbearing and smothering way he'd seen Mrs Weasley treat Ron. She fed him a large, wholesome meal and gave him hot chocolate before bed. It was a new and quite pleasant experience for him. One he could quickly grow accustomed to. As soon as he laid his head down in the soft, comfy bed, he knew no more until morning.

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      The next day started off interesting. Over a filling breakfast of waffles with berry compote, Harry learned that Agnes's son, Charles, was raised in America when the Ofdensens emigrated there to escape the War, had been educated there and became a solicitor, or lawyer, in both the magical and non-magical worlds. He now manages some band and rarely has time to visit.  Harry asked Agnes to contact him for him, which she did with a slightly old-fashioned phone. With his new-found celebrity status, there were bound to be legal issues in the future. He was told that Charles would meet him at the bank. His first stop for the day was Gringotts. After all, you can't have a shopping spree without oodles of cash. He also needed to find out just how much he had beyond the general area of 'piles of gold'.

       As soon as he got to the counter he asked to see the manager for the Potter vault. He'd read that all vaults had one from the day they were opened. He was led to the office of one Gorok Thresher, a gnarled old goblin that was slightly larger and more intimidating than the others he'd seen with weapons on the walls of his office and a wicked-looking dagger strapped to his hip. “How may I help you Mister Potter?” he asked with a frighteningly toothy grin.

       After gulping down his fear of that grin and a deep, fortifying breath, Harry began to try and make sense of his finances. "I was wondering if it would be possible to get some galleons changed to pounds and to look into the state of my financial affairs, sir,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.

       “The exchange shouldn't be a problem,” said Gorok. “We have special wallets and cards for that. As to the other... do you mean to tell me that you've never received any of the quarterly statements that were sent out to you after your eleventh year?”

       Harry got a slightly puzzled, slightly irritated look on his face that quickly changed to comprehension and resignation. “I believe that my post might have been re-routed to Professor Dumbledore, sir, as he's the person who held my key for the past ten years.”

       One thing goblins don't like is someone meddling with their business. The new twitch above Gorok's eye boded ill for Dumbledore. “Mr Potter, according to my files, under no circumstances was your key supposed to go to anyone other than your magical guardian prior to your eleventh birthday, at which time it was to be transferred to your control. There has clearly been a breach in protocol somewhere that will need looking into post haste.”

       Confusion passed across Harry's face. “I have a magical guardian?” Gorok nearly choked upon hearing that. “I've read that Pureblood families appoint one for their children, but I didn't know I had one. And if I do, I've never met them, which nullifies the guardianship, doesn't it?”

       “Yes,” said Gorok through gritted teeth. “Yes it does. According to your file, you have several names listed, three of which are unavailable. Firstly, your godfather, Sirius Black, is serving a life sentence in Azkaban Prison. Since there was no trial, his assets were not seized by the Ministry as was normally the case with convicted Death Eaters, and were instead frozen until he is either convicted, enters a Gringotts Bank or dies, in which case they will pass to you as his sole named heir.” He waited a moment for that to sink in. “Next, we have Frank and Alice Longbottom, both of whom are in the care of Saint Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies in the Long Term Care ward. They were both severely brain damaged by extreme exposure to the Cruciatus Curse and are catatonic, I'm afraid.” 

       “Longbottom? Any relation to Neville Longbottom?” Harry asked, curiously.

       “His parents, poor boy. His grandmother has been his guardian ever since and was also next on the list to be yours, should anything happen to the others.”

       “Really? With the way Neville turned out, it might be a good thing I'm not with her. But why aren't I?” Harry was a bit peeved that he could have lived somewhere other than Privet Drive, but got stuck there anyway.

       “As with Madam Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I believe it would be because all available guardians are unaware of their status as such. The list includes Lord Sirius Black, Lord and Lady Longbottom, Lady Augusta Longbottom, Mr Remus Lupin, Madam Amelia Bones, and Mrs Andromeda Tonks. If none of them were available, you were to be placed in an orphanage. However, such information would only be made available at the reading of your parents' Will, which was sealed by the Head Mugwump of the Wizengamot and the Minister for Magic.”

       Harry sat there, seething. It quickly occurred to him what happened and he was fairly sure of the reason why. He was an intelligent child and a lot of things hadn't made sense over the past year. There were far too many coincidences and far too much danger in the safest place in the world. Hell, there was far too much suspicion over the entire time he'd spent with his relatives! How does  one overlook the obviously neglected and malnourished child with baggy cast-offs living with a well to-do, obese family without some red flags being raised with Child Welfare? “Fucking Dumbledore!” Harry hissed, causing Gorok to blink, a bit surprised at such language flowing from the mouth of such a seemingly timid human child at such a young age. Another thought immediately occurred to Harry. “How much of my money was withdrawn prior to my initial visit on my eleventh birthday?”

       Gorok blinked again before finding the appropriate file. “Thirty thousand galleons, Mr Potter.”

       “In pounds Sterling?”

       “That would be one hundred sixty eight thousand, sir. I would assume it went to your care and upkeep?”

       “You would assume wrongly. Those thieving motherfuckers!!” yelled Harry. “The Bastard Dursleys spent all my money on their fat fuck of a kid! I spent ten years after my parents' deaths living in a small cupboard under a staircase, steeping on a camp bed, eating scraps when I was given anything, wearing rags and getting no access to any form of medical care! I only have glasses because one of my teachers told my aunt that I was squinting at the blackboard! Even then I got the cheapest pair possible by trying on different pairs at a supermarket until she could find ones matching the number I could see through! And that bitch was getting paid with my own fucking money?! Is the money redeemable?!”

       “Oh, yes,” Gorok said, silkily. “Yes it most definitely is.” Here's a healthy tip for the unaware, never try to cheat a goblin or their clients. Goblins hate fraud, embezzlement and any other type of theft. And finding their clients victim to such on their watch makes them rather... irritated. Working the system in one's favour is understandable, acceptable and praised among goblins, but only if it's still technically legal and, therefore, honourable. To steal thousands from a child and not use so much as a knut on his care is unthinkable.

       “In the mean time,” Gorok continued, “I will have all your current vault keys voided and key your accounts to you blood as well as provide you with the items I mentioned earlier. The card will act like a regular debit card in Muggle stores including those using Chip and Pin. It comes with a special security charm much like Fidellius, so that only you and your Account Manager, who acts as Secret Keeper, shall know your PIN number. The wallet has a set amount of twenty galleons or the equivalent Muggle currency. At the moment, that would be £112. The amount in the wallet will never be more or less and, like the card, will only be accessible to you.”

       “Ace!”

       “Quite,” Gorok said with a smirk. “Before we get to the blood-letting, as we will need quite a bit to reset your accounts, we must first do something about this guardian situation.”

       “Would it be possible to be emancipated? I've never met any of those people and it would make very little sense to bother with them now as I'm quite capable of caring for myself. Plus, the upheaval in their lives as well as mine would be a bit awkward.”

       “Certainly, sir. All you would need to do is take up your position as Head of the family.  A simple matter of donning the family signet ring and signing a few forms.”

       “Excellent! I'd like to speak to my solicitor about those forms first? Just to be on the safe side. I mean no offence, but I am only eleven and I'd like someone here to help me through the process.”

       “Quite alright. A rather intelligent decision as well. One not many consider when dealing with Gringotts. May I ask whom you've decided to retain?”

       “Yes. The woman I'm staying with just now has a son who practices in both Magical and Muggle law, so he should be fairly good at what he does. His name is Charles Ofdensen.”

       “Charles Ofdensen? The Charles Ofdensen? 'Goblin Wit' Charles Ofdensen?”

       “Uumm... I guess...?” Harry was looking at his account manager as if he'd sprouted a second head. From what he'd read, goblins were a dour and serious race not prone to frivolous behaviour. Seeing one practically turn fanboy was more than a bit creepy.

       Gorok was gob-smacked. Not only did this child millionaire before him just drop the name of the human most exalted and lauded among goblin-kind since Salazar Slytherin I, he didn't even seem to know who the man was! “Charles Foster Ofdensen would be the absolute best choice for all your legal needs, Mr Potter,,” said Gorok. “He is so very skilled at contract negotiation that he, literally, has people sign their lives away for the honour of being in the presence of the band he manages, calling the contracts 'Pain Waivers'. Quite necessary, as people tend to be maimed or killed at their concerts... accidentally, of course.”

       “Seriously?!” said a wide-eyed Harry. “How does that happen at a concert?!”

       “Quite easily, actually. Dethklok tends to have things like pyros, rockets, lasers, wild animals, corrosive/boiling liquids and machines that can malfunction, spill, misfire or get loose. Tickets to these events cost hundreds, or even thousands of American dollars and only the bravest, or most foolhardy, will attend them. This means hundreds of die-hard fans are injured, or even killed, with every show.”

       Harry was speechless. The thought that there were actually people stupid enough to pay such a large sum to go to something that has such a high risk of injury/death to spectators that it would require waivers to get in was mind-boggling. “It's a good thing they're a Muggle band,” he thought, “otherwise, most of Gryffindor would be wiped out.” It wasn't a very charitable thought, but his house-mates didn't exactly make a good showing his first year. The impression he'd gotten was of brash, loud, flighty, fickle people with a mob mentality. He rarely saw anyone other than Percy and Hermione studying. Many of them were prone to start fights with the Slytherins, and the girls spent most of their time gossiping. It was the jock house of the school. Everything was about Quidditch, parties, pranks or gossip with nary a truly intelligent word or thought in the mix.

       “Would you like me to contact him for you?” asked Gorok, bringing Harry back to the present.

       “Umm... no thanks,” Harry almost missed the amused expression on Gorok's face as he began to wonder just what kind of guy he was seeking advice from.  "His mother called before I left the B&B. He's supposed to be meeting me here in..." he paused to check his battered, second-hand watch, "ten minutes."

       "Very well, then. I'll just have someone send him in and gather the necessary items and forms while we wait.” Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

       When Gorok bid them enter, an awed young goblin led in the epitome of a staid businessman. There was nothing really remarkable about him. If Harry didn't know this man was a wizard, he'd have thought the man was more normal and average (if more successful in his tailored suit) than Uncle Vernon. He had brown hair in a sensible cut, a stern but average face, and wore a business suit with a red silk tie and highly polished shoes and glasses. His appearance screamed 'accountant'! The only thing remarkable about him was the sharply intelligent and cunning grey eyes. “The Most Ruthless and Cunning Charles Foster Ofdensen to see you, Master Gorok,” said the Assistant goblin. You could hear the title quality in Charles' introduction.

       “Mr Ofdensen! So glad you could take time out of your day to meet with us. It is truly an honour to meet you ,” Gorok practically gushed. Seriously, the general goblin reaction to this man was really creeping Harry out.

       “Dethklok tends to keep to late hours. I have a large block of free time until they need me,” said Charles. Even his voice was average.

       “Splendid!! This, as I'm sure you are aware, is Mister Potter.” Harry had risen from his seat as soon as Ofdensen came in and now gave the man a handshake and a shy smile. Normal and boring as he looked, there was something intimidating about him.

       “So, what can I help you with, Mr Potter?” asked Charles, getting straight to business.  Harry and Gorok then explained the situation, providing the necessary files and finding more discrepancies as they did so.

       “According to these transactions,” said Gorok, looking over a set of vault transfers, “you may have paid the full Hogwarts tuition for the younger four Weasleys and the final four years of young Percival. Five academic vaults were opened in their names using funds from your account.”

       Let it be known that this information did not exactly make Harry happy. “That bitch!” You see? “So that's why a mother of seven with two who've graduated and three still in school would practically break the Statute of Secrecy by shouting about the platform in a busy train station full of Muggles! That conniving old goat paid her!”

       Gorok and Charles exchanged a business-type-lawyer glance (you know, the heads will roll and pockets will empty type). “I'm certain we could retrieve the misappropriated funds,” said Charles.

      "We most certainly can," said Gorok. Thus, with their vast amount of experience cutting through legalese and fine print, it didn't take much longer for Gorok and Charles to go through the rest of the files. By the time they were done, one Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had a mass of heavy fines, lawsuits and criminal charges to his name. The charges and suits would have to wait, as the man had far too much influence for even Charles Foster Ofdensen, best lawyer in the world, to make them stick. The fines were carried out immediately though and emptied the old bastard's vault.

Harry decided to let the Weasleys keep the tuition vaults though. "I like the twins, and they shouldn't be punished for their mother's crime." The vaults would only cover tuition and the bare minimum of supplies.

 “May I also assume that you are unaware of the fact that your magical core is still bound even though any such bindings were to be removed as soon as you began your magical education?” said Gorok, seeing the binding on Harry's aura. 

       “Huh?” said Harry.

       Gorok and Charles shared a look. “Ritual Chamber?” said Charles. 

       “Right this way,”said Gorok. The three of them were soon in a large stone chamber beneath Gringotts with Harry laying naked on a stone alter, Goblin runes covering every inch of skin and written on the surrounding floor. One very long and painful ritual later, Harry's body, mind and magic were cleansed of outside influences and/or dangerous substances and a list of all that was removed had been created. It was a long list consisting of several different bindings, compulsions, glamours and limiters. It was a wonder Harry could do any magic at all. It was nice not to need glasses though. And the few glimpses of red in his darker, wavier, tamer black hair made it look like blood. His bright green eyes had darkened from emerald to forest with gold around the rim.

       All old injuries were healed and scars vanished, including the one on his head. It turns out that it was a soul fragment that had latched on to his Core and was leeching his magic and forcing a bond with the Dark Tosser. The fragment was cleansed and absorbed as it had nowhere to go.  The end result of the ritual was a healthy, if still woefully short, Harry with shoulder-length  blood-black hair, more striking eyes and more power than most average adult wizards.

        They then went back to Gorok's office to get down to the business of handling Harry's finances. A blood test showed that he was the sole heir of the Potter, Peverell and Gryffindor families on his father's side and the Selwyn, Slytherin and Ravenclaw families on his mother's side. With several million Galleons accumulated in each vault, one of them would have made him rich. The six however... “I have how much?!”

       “G20 million each in the Ravenclaw, Gryffindor and Slytherin vaults G10 million in the Potter and Peverell vaults and G12 million in the Selwyn vault come to a total of G92 million or £515,200,000 give or take a few thousand,” said Gorok. “You, Mister Potter, are a very wealthy lad. Not in the Top 20, but Top 50 at the very least.”

       “Ho. Lee. Shit!”

       “You'll be able to access it after you've completed the emancipation process,” Gorok continued.

       “How, exactly, do we do the emancipation? You mentioned something about taking up my position as head of the family and some forms..." He then turned to Charles. "We also gotta write up a contract or something soon, just so everything's clear and tidy when things start popping up.”

       “We can do that after the most important bit is out of the way,” said Gorok as he walked to a bank of small cupboards on a wall. “Because you are the last member of six Ancient and Noble Houses,” he said, unlocking six of the cupboards and removing a small object from each one, “claiming Headship of any one of them will emancipate you and make you an adult in the eyes of Magical Law. All that involves,” he said as he placed the six items on his desk, “is putting on a ring.”

       Set before Harry were six antique signet rings, each with its own crest and pulsing with power. He'd not survived with the Dursleys for so long by rushing into things, and the expectant looks on both Charles and Gorok's faces showed that there was more to it than that. Plus, the rings felt too powerful for it to be that simple. “What's the catch?” he asked.

       “If a ring rejects you, it could give you a nasty shock,” said Gorok. “These rings have yet to accept anyone other than their original owners. They won't kill you, but it will be quite painful and may deplete your magic.”

       “Lovely,” drawled Harry. “So nice to know I could end up with crispy fingers." After an exasperated sigh, he stiffened his spine and said, "Let's do this.” He then reached for a ring with two rearing griffins on either side of a shield crossed with two broadswords; the Potter ring. Before he could touch it, it practically leaped onto his hand, to the shock of all three present.

       “Huh,” Gorok grunted, “never saw a ring do that before.” He next reached for a ring bearing the Gryffindor crest of a rearing gold lion on a red field. That ring did the same as the Potter one. The next ring had a thick tree on it that looked like an ash. It was the Selwyn ring and it, too, leaped onto his hand. The next ring was made of silver and had a silver triquetra in a gold circle. This, as Gorok told them, was the true Peverell ring and it joined the rest in the finger-hopping trend. The Ravenclaw ring with its famous bronze and blue symbol and Slytherin ring with its emerald snake on silver also sprang to his hand. When all the rings had accepted him, they then decided to merge. The Gryffindor Lion sank onto the Potter Shield, the Raven perched in the boughs of the Ash and the Slytherin Snake bit its tail, becoming an Uroborus, and took the place of the circle in the Peverell Triquetra.  Harry, Charles and Gorok just sat silently staring at his hand for several awkward moments.

       “Well,” said Charles, “that was unexpected.”

        “I'll say,” said Holly. “But what does it mean?”

       “The most logical explanation for the rings' behaviour is that they have finally found someone truly worthy of wearing them,” said Gorok. “If you recall, I mentioned that they haven't been worn since the founders of their families. For the Hogwarts Founders' rings, that was over a thousand years ago. The Peverell ring is the oldest dating back to the ancient Druids, long before the Romans set foot on English soil. Things that old tend to absorb magic and act strangely. As to them merging, my best guess is that they merged with the ring who's family values and protections best matched their own. The Selwyn and Ravenclaw families both valued intelligence and wit, so the clever Raven is now perched in the Tree of knowledge, Yggdrasil. The Gryffindor and Potter families both valued bravery, chivalry and honour, hence the lion in the shield. The Slytherin and Peverell families both valued cunning and ambition and were fascinated with the secrets of life and death, thus the Uroborus surrounding the Triquetra.”

         After allowing Harry a few moments to absorb that, Charles said, “On to other business, shall we?” he soon started haggling out a contract to retain him as legal council for Harry with Gorok, both explaining things to the boy as they went. They soon had a mutually satisfying document that worked in everyone's favour and had Harry's best interests in mind. The Wizard and Goblin both looked like they'd had the time of their lives.

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        It was with a bright smile (and a blood replenishing potion after the ritual, test and blood-contract signing) that Lord Harrison James Potter-Selwyn-Peverel, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble Houses of Potter, Gryffindor, Selwyn, Ravenclaw, Peverell and Slytherin, left Gringotts to do some much needed shopping. His first stop was at a storage shop on Touring Circle for a new trunk. He'd need it for his new wardrobe and supplies. He ended up with a multi-compartment model in black with featherweight, muggle-repellant and fireproofing charms, a security ward keyed to blood and magical signature and an auto-shrink feature (just press the crest!). The trunk wasn't as extravagant as it sounds though. It had one compartment for school supplies, one for potions ingredients and tools (with anti-breakage/spillage and organising charms on it), one room sized one for a walk-in closet and one room sized one for a small library.

       He next headed down another side alley off Diagon, Linen Lane, for a few new robes. Malkin's was okay if you wanted bog-standard and ready-made, but Harry wanted to see what else there was. He left those shops with a winter cloak, a summer cloak, two pairs of dress shoes, two pairs of dragon-hide boots, a set of dress robes and five sets of his school uniform. All of his purchases had repair and resizing charms on them to grow with him and get the most use out of them so he wouldn't have to put himself through the horror of pinning and measuring again for a good while. He then stopped for lunch with Agnes and let her know that Charles sends his love, and asked if it were possible to get to Muggle London any way but through the Leaky. It turned out that there were hidden doors all over the Alley that took you to corresponding area types. The Leaky Cauldron was just a general entrance.

       So, after lunch, it was back down Linen Lane and through a wall at the end that let out in a discreet alley near a muggle shopping centre. It was massive! Harry had never seen such a big building or so many shops selling the same thing in one place before. There was Debenhams, Harrods, New Look, Next, Top Shop, Dorothy Perkins, Next, Gap, Marks and Spencer, John Lewis, BHS, Primark, and on and on it went! He went round twice as any good shopper would. The first time round was to see who had what and at what prices. The second time round... many a coin was spent.

       He didn't bother with Primark much. Low priced as they were, the quality matched the price tag.  He didn't get much... really... just underwear, socks, four t-shirts, three dress shirts, three novelty shirts, four pairs of jeans, two casual trousers, two suits, three pairs of shorts, a leather jacket, two pairs of leather trousers, and two pairs of trainers (sneakers in American). Not much at all, really. His last stops were Boots and Molton Brown for toiletries. He considered looking in L'Occitaine, but the Centre was about to close and it was only an afterthought anyway. The place looked only slightly less girly than Lush and The Body Shop smelled. He made his way back to the entrance he came out of and trudged back down the Alley with his piles of bags. It had been a good day.