Diagon alley was packed.
I shoved my way through the crowds, Professor Dumbledore gliding along beside me. Several people gawked at me, as though I sprouted wings, but I think they were just looking at Professor Dumbledore, who with his white Merlin beard tucked into his belt and his outlandish clothes was definitely a sight to behold.
"Hurry up, Leah," he said politely. "We must get to the bookstore soon."
The crowd didn't peter out as we reached the store. It was amazing. I already loved books, but now, in a magical bookshop, filled with everything from dark, bloodstained volumes to some light paperback fictions, I couldn't believe it.
I bought my books required for Warthog, or whatever that place was called, then we left for Ollivander's, a 'wand' shop, according to Professor Dumbledore.
Now here it was a lot less crowded. Outside, the store was dark and shabby, with a peeling gold sign reading Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Professor Dumbledore pushed open the door, causing a bell to ring, which echoed round the shabby little store. As we walked in, a figure stepped in from a store room in the back.
"Welcome," said the man. "I am Ollivander. Greetings, Professor Dumbledore-" He smiled at Professor Dumbledore, "-pleasure to see you again. Who is this?" He looked at me with his piercing eyes, which were such a pale blue, they almost looked white.
"This's Leah Zacharias," Professor Dumbledore replied serenely. "She is starting Hogwarts come this September."
"Pleasure to meet you Leah," Ollivander replied. "I believe you are in need of an Ollivander wand."
"Finest wands in Britain," Professor Dumbledore intervened.
Ollivander nodded. "Which is your wand arm?"
"Uh, well I'm right handed," I replied, holding it out.
Ollivander measured my right arm, my left leg, the distance between my nostrils, and around my throat, before he vanished through the shelves, all packed with dusty black boxes.
"I must go bathroom," Professor Dumbledore said. "I'll go right opposite to Fortescue's ice cream parlour. I'll be back as soon as possible." And he left the shop, the door shutting with a ring.
It was very eerie in the store. There was not a sound to be heard, apart from the shuffling of Ollivander, searching for the perfect wand.
But within seconds, someone walked in. I turned round to see two people walking in; a tall woman, with pale blonde hair and equally pale skin, along with a boy of about my age, who looked like a younger, male counterpart.
"Oh hello," she said, when she saw me. "Where's Ollivander?" Her voice sounded haughty and very posh. She looked smug and she turned around, looking for the wand maker.
"He's finding me a wand," I replied.
"Oh yes," she said. "Abraxas needs a new wand. His broke last spring when he was playing Quidditch on his broom with his cousins from Salazar's Hollow. He broke his leg as well as his wand. Abraxas had to send him to St. Mungo's; he got infected with some of the dragon heartstring in his wand. But that's all over now."
As I didn't understand a word if that, I looked around idly. The pale boy, Abraxas, caught my eye for a moment. He had hollow grey eyes which didn't betray any emotions.
Just then, Ollivander came rushing back in, holding a wand. "Well this seems suitab-" He caught sight of Mrs. Malfoy and Abraxas in the threshold. "Why, welcome, Madam Malfoy, and Master Malfoy. Pleasure to have you here. What services do you require?"
"I need a wand." Abraxas spoke for the first time, his voice just as smug and arrogant as his mother's. "Mine broke." He said broke as if it were a terrible word that should never be uttered.
"Why, I am sorry to hear that," he said. "Let me get you one as soon as I am done with Leah."
Mrs. Malfoy looked thunderstruck as if Ollivander had just crapped on her shoe as he turned back to me and handed me the wand. "This is useful. Pine wood, core of unicorn hair. Try it! Try it!" He sounded eager, like a football fan cheering on his team.
I took the wand and waved it around, feeling foolish. Immediately, Ollivander grabbed it away, and gave me another one, from a pile he accumulated from his search.
"Oak with dragon heartstring?"
"Ash with a Kneazle's small intestine?"
"Holly with phoenix tail feather?"
"Beech with a hippogriff feather?"
Ollivander tried dozens, and by this time, the Malfoy's were turning scarlet, and I was starting to doubt my magical abilities.
I had only discovered that magic even existed a week ago. My dad's a librarian and my mum's a failed novelist. Neither of them were wizards, so it was a shock to all of them when I was. No one believed it at first, but then Professor Dumbledore, headmaster of 'Hogwarts' came and explained. Then explanations for why my zits disappeared and my enemies also vanished and reappeared miles away in a forest.
Finally Ollivander came back.
"Try this one." He held out a wand which I took from him and waved around.
"What is it made of?" asked Professor Dumbledore.
Ollivander shook his head. "I'm not sure. This is a second-hand wand; I couldn't find one that seemed just perfect."
Slightly disappointed, I paid for the wand and left.
So there's platform nine.
And there's platform ten.
Nine and three quarters was nowhere in sight.
Professor Dumbledore gave me my ticket when we parted at the end of our Diagon alley visit, and wished me luck at Hogwarts. He didn't explain much more.
The train left at eleven. It was currently ten to.
I looked behind me. There was a boy there, tall with dark hair and a pointed nose. He looked slightly smug; he reminded me of that Abraxas kid. I watched stand on the side, by platform 9. He stood silently, watching a trio, two of which I recognised.
One was a woman, in her mid-thirties, with long blonde hair and a haughty look. She stood with her arm around a boy I recognised as Abraxas. They were with a 30-something year old man, which looked like an older Abraxas, with his white hair and pale skin.
The dark haired boy on the other side of platform 10 and I, on platform 9, watched the blond family and they walked up the wall between 9 and 10 and...
...Walked right through.
The boy by platform 10 shrugged, as if to say "What the hell; I got nothing to lose" and he took his trolley, with a cauldron and suitcases, and walked through the wall, disappearing.
I walked up tentatively to the wall around me. I looked around at the people there, some walking past, unaware, but some people (who I noticed were families with cauldrons) kept sneaking peeks at the wall. I felt like I was holding up the queue, so I walked in...
...and arrived in a smoky, dark station, with a sign above my head, reading 9 ¾. I grinned to myself, dodging out of the way as another family came from the normal world.
There was a large steam train; the Hogwarts express. I saw several kids rushing towards it, but some were hanging back, hugging their parents or younger siblings, saying goodbye. I felt a pang of jealousy.
The train was packed. Running along the aisle, I struggled to find an empty compartment with room. Eventually, I found one with one boy in; that dark haired one of the other side of the platform.
I coughed awkwardly. The boy had his head bent down over a thick hardcover. He looked up briefly. "Hello," he said. His eyes were dark and stared.
"Uh, I'm, uh, L-Leah, and I, uh, couldn't, uh, find another, uh, y'know, uh, compartment, so, uh, can I sit, uh, here?"
"Sure. I'm Tom. Tom Riddle."
Tom was quite quiet during the journey; we discussed his book, which seemed alright. Eventually, an old, plump lady with a trolley came and offered us sweets. I bought these things called something like Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans.
"What flavours are they?" I asked Tom, assuming he tried them before. He shrugged.
"I don't know," he admitted. "I never had them; I wasn't raised in the wizard world." I could sense some bitterness behind his words, so I distracted him.
I took one out of the box. Oddly, it was a bright violet. I bit half off it off and chewed it tentatively. I spat it out. Tom asked me what it was.
"Aubergine." I rinsed the taste out with my juice. Tom took a bright yellow one.
"Lemon?" I asked, when he bit off a corner gingerly.
"Pencil." We both burst into laughter.
For the rest of the journey, we tasted chilli, marmalade, Salmon, see weed and something that tasted oddly of sweaty socks.
"What house do you want to be in?" I asked Tom curiously. He shrugged.
"I don't know," he said. "I read some of the books over the holidays. Gryffindor seems like a good idea, being famous for their chivalry and braveness. Ravenclaw is smart, which seems nice. Hufflepuff? No way. Slytherin; possibly. They're sneaky and devious."
"But aren't they supposed to be evil?"
He shrugged. "Evil people aren't evil. The world isn't split into Good and Evil. Maybe "evil" people just have different views on what is "good" and their goals."
"Hm," I commented. "Deep!" We laughed. "But I'd want to be Gryffindor, all brave 'n' stuff."
