A/N: Wow, I haven't looked at this for some time! I only remembered it because I got a few follows recently. Thanks for those by the way! I have read through this chapter, made some changes and decided to post as it is now. I will be reading through the other chapters and will most likely update those as well. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I hope I don't loose interest again!

Disclaimer: If I owned any thing mentioned in this story there would be more space/time travel and a big blue box. There isn't, so I don't.

Death sighed as he looked at the Grimm's Hourglass Room. He had been asked to take over for a few weeks so the Grimm could take a vacation. Death didn't understand why he would need a vacation, but he agreed since he had business in the Grimm's realm anyway (i.e. Rincewind). Death knew that the Grimm had never been the tidiest of Reapers, but the state of the Hourglass room was appalling. Death had always prided himself on doing his job as efficiently as possible in an insensible world like the Discworld, so he didn't understand how another death could be so unorganized. The Grimm had even called him here before to help in a situation with someone named Myrrdin.


Death walked through the rows of softly falling time, some having frozen in mid life, others kept going with black shadows, and even more simply repeating themselves over and over. Death shook his head at his colleague's mess. At least he only had one wizard every few centuries who refused to die when supposed to. The Grimm had a whole large community of them! Death decided that he would leave the wizards to the Grimm and turned to the regular humans section, quickly choosing a life-timer and putting it into his robes.

Harry gawked at Diagon Alley in awe. He had read about it in his book, but it was nothing compared to seeing it in real life. Hagrid had been very helpful; explaining several things that Harry asked about and introducing him to the Wizarding world. Harry was surprised to find out that he was famous, and became rather nervous. He knew from reading about Rincewind that being famous was never a good thing; it could (and often did) lead to sharp pointy objects in the future. As Harry contemplated the horrors of rabid mobs and misunderstandings, he was reminded of a question he had while reading the book of Rincewind. "Why is the Wizzarding world hidden from regular people? Are the wizzards scared?"

Hagrid laughed. "Nah, it's jus' tha' the Muggles would all want their problems taken care of."

Harry looked at Hagrid quizzically. "No they wouldn't. At first they'd be scared and try to get rid of the wizzards, but then – after a long and shape changing war - they'd not care because it would be normal."

Hagrid gave Harry a strange look. "Ah, righ'.' He shook his head and focused on more important things. "Now, first we need to go to Gringotts, the Wizard bank, to get yer money."

"I have money?"

"O 'course you do, Harry. You don' think yer parents left yah with nothin' do yah?"

Harry just shrugged and followed in Hagrid's wake. As soon as they reached the bank his breath was taken away by it's size and beauty. He read the inscription on the door and thought that whoever tried to break into Gringotts would obviously be incredibly stupid or a hero.

After getting his money (and having ogled for the necessary length of time) Hagrid left Harry to get his robes on his own. Not liking this one bit, Harry carefully scoped out the store before entering. Deciding that both the shop-keep and the lone customer were mostly harmless, or easy to run from, he entered the shop. He was immediately ushered onto a stool next to the only customer who was about his age, and the owner – Madam Malkin – began to measure him for his robes.

The blond boy looked over to Harry and sneered haughtily. "Going to Hogwarts too?"

Harry nodded cautiously.

"Well, I'm going to be sorted into Slytherin. What House are you going into?"

Harry shrugged. "The safest one, of course."

The blonde's sneer grew even nastier. "Oh, a Hufflepuff. All Hufflepuffs are idiots and cowards. I guess that makes you a mudblood."

Harry was about to ask the boy what a mudblood was, when the lady measuring him told him he was all done. Harry jumped off the stool, collected and paid for his robes, then rushed outside to wait for Hagrid. He was a little upset about not having his book (it was very comforting to know someone had it worse than him), but he supposed it was for the best as it would be difficult to run with a book that big; and that boy was definitely someone to run from.

Phineus' quill scratched frantically across the piece of parchment, writing out ancient runes and symbols as he thought of them. (They didn't really spell anything, he was simply practicing. Just because he'd been driven mad from a botched Obliviate as he was kicked out of the DOM, it didn't mean he was an idiot.) It had been many years since he had sent his partner into the Underworld to take something in order to complete his spell research. Robert had managed to grab something, but he had run too fast out of the ritual room - while laughing maniacally - for Phineus to get a good look. Rob always enjoyed a good prank and had only agreed to join in Phineus' research because it would be like pulling a prank on the Grimm; on Death itself! Phineus had no doubt that Rob had managed to keep the item hidden, but since Rob had disappeared it was up to him to find the artifact.

Phineus sighed as he put down his quill, massaging the kinks that had formed in his hand. He chuckled darkly as he thought of the spell he had worked on over the years. "Soon my plan will come together and I will be able to control death. I will be immortal!" He quickly stood, still sniggering under his breath, and skipped up the stairs into the stationary shop that he owned. It was a highly respectable establishment known as Scribbulus Shrivenport.

Rincewind stayed in the back room of the apothecary, making sure the clerks in the front got the ingredients they shouted back for. This week was the busiest he had ever seen. When he asked Mr. Jigger (one of the store owners) he replied that it was for hog warts students. Why anyone would learn from a hog's warts was beyond Rincewind's understanding; so he simply nodded and tried not to mix ingredients that would explode - like he did his first day.

"Oi, Rincey!"

Rincewind winced (and tried not to dwell on how well it rhymed) as he heard the horrid nickname that his coworker Arnold had taken to calling him. At least it was better than what Mr. Jigger called him. He turned from the bowl of beetle eyes he was about to pick up, almost knocking it over. "What is it? I was just about to bring out the beetle eyes you asked for."

Arnold laughed and waved him over. "Nevermind that! Someone's asking for you."

Rincewind began to panic. "It's not a really skinny guy, kind of tall, wears all black?"

"Nah, just come out! You'll never believe who it is!"

Arnold turned back to the front of the store - and that was all that Rincewind needed to disappear, leaving nothing but a fading scream. Arnold looked behind him and sighed. "That's the second time this week. At least he's not hiding from the Unicorn horns again." He went out into the store and approached the kid who'd asked him about Rincewind. "I'm sorry, he's not in right now. Is there anything I can help you with Mr. Potter?"

Harry looked disappointed, but not surprised. "No, thank you. Hagrid has already gathered the items I need. He's paying for them at the counter now."

"Well, if there's anything you need, just ask for Arnold. That's me."

Harry just nodded with a shy smile and scurried after Hagrid as he heard his name called. Arnold smiled giddily as he went back to work. This was the greatest thing that had ever happened to him. Speaking to THE Harry Potter! He suddenly stopped and cursed.

"I forgot to get his autograph!"

Harry trudged after Hagrid as they left Diagon Alley tired and happy, yet still a little disappointed. Today was the best day of his live, and if he had only been able to meet his hero Rincewind... it would have been even better. He had expected him to run, but had hoped he would at least ask who was asking for him. Of course, any delay in running could result in a lack of important body parts required to live.

The day turned out alright despite that, except for the fact that the owner of the stationary store wouldn't stop staring at his scar. It was creepy and had made him want to run away, but Hagrid had kept a hand on his shoulder after the first two times he had tried.

Harry waved good bye to Hagrid on the steps of Number 4 Privet Drive, and made his way inside cautiously. The Dursley's were clustered around the television and gave no indication that they had noticed Harry's presence. He scurried to his new room, not allowing himself to breath easy until he had closed the door. Thanking the Lady that his family was in a ignoring mood, he completed the final act to calm himself – opening his favourite book.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed! More to come as soon as I figure out what direction I want this to go in! Ja ne and tell me what you thought!