No Wand to Fight With
A/N: I like writing, I just don't do it that often. I have finals next week. I should really not do this. Oh, and note; this isn't beta'ed, even by me. I'll do it later, if ever.
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:Are there left-handed wands? Are there left-handed _wizards?_ And what the _heck_ do you wear to get on a train with people who can probably Transfigure anything they want into whatever they want it to be?:
Leslin had already read her textbooks; she'd got them right after the letter came, and _that_ was at the beginning of the summer. And being invited to a private school for magic wasn't so routine in her family that she wouldn't want to know what she was heading for, now was it?
Her parents, sedentary, both definitely the don't-disturb-my-routine type, had _not_ liked Diagon Alley. And that may have been why they got annoyed and dragged her home before she could get a wand.
And she really, _really_ did not want to explain that to anybody at this school for Magick. Maybe she was being immature, but it was _embarrassing,_ that her parents were too scared of the wizarding world to accompany her back into it. They'd even fled the train station, which they both used to get to work and which they'd probably never look at with complete trust again.
In any case, the good news was that she had "robes," a cauldron, quill and _lots_ of parchment, and all her textbooks. However, there had been some kind of book with wings, and there were twenty or so of them perched on the rafters, and _that,_ even more than Madame Malkin's, had driven them into quiet hysteria that had taken nearly a week to calm them out of. So, as usual saving the best for last, as she was wont to do, they had never gotten to the wand shop, which, from the talk of all the other "first- years," was the most amazing part of the whole thing. And _no_ one she had casually mentioned it to had ever heard of someone coming to Hogwarts without a wand.
They had gone to Gringotts first, of course. :Maybe,: she thought, :maybe if they hadn't been presented with Goblins the absolutely _first_ thing, we could have made it in and out without that premature exit.: They'd been at least discreet about their panic; it wouldn't "do to frighten the child, after all, Richard," as she had heard late that night. There had been no screaming, no fainting. Just very white faces, and a hurried retreat through the pub into the "safe" street, where they could apparently no longer see the Leaky cauldron. _She_ could. Her parents had been holding tightly onto her hands, one each as they used to do when she was four or five. She hadn't proved herself so immature as to pull towards the pub yearningly as she wanted to. It was _Magic!_ :You don't turn away from magic when it presents itself.:
That had been in "Hogwarts, A History," a quote by one of the survivors of the Final Battle against Lord Voldemort. Hermione granger, the friend of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had said it. "You don't turn away from magic when it presents itself. There are good parts to the magical world, and bad parts, but a wizard (Leslin capitalized Wizard in her own mind) or witch can live as a Muggle (that meant someone who couldn't do magic; like her parents) if they want to; if you don't learn how to do magic, living in the wizarding world would be embarrassing and hard. And I wanted the magic. Voldemort is gone now; its time to get started fixing things like House Elf rights." Leslin, needless to say, wanted to be just like Hermione, a powerful witch who everyone respected, but she rather thought that Hermione Granger's parents had never fled from a few paltry books in their life.
Hogwarts could be seen through the front windows, if she strained. It was just like the pictures, down to the wind moving the pennants about the Quidditch pitch and the Whomping willow just coming into sight around the straight-to-the sky Astronomy tower, a defiance to sordid, dusty London normality.
They couldn't kick her out for not having a wand. And even if they did, she would _sneak_ back in. No one was going to take the magic away from her, and they _better_ not try, because she was going to be a Slytherin just like Severus Snape, and Slythrins were powerful and got what they wanted.
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Do you like the little ending tap? I'm a tremendous SSHG fan, and I just _had_ to mention both of them in this. In case you couldn't tell, _this_ means an emphasis on the word, just like italics except that italics make my account do strange upload errors so I'm sticking with what it likes until I figure out the HTML. I wrote this because to my knowledge, NO ONE has ever written this plotline before; the wars are over and life goes on. I mean, it's got to happen sometime, and these are _childerens' books._ The good guys will win.
A/N: I like writing, I just don't do it that often. I have finals next week. I should really not do this. Oh, and note; this isn't beta'ed, even by me. I'll do it later, if ever.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
:Are there left-handed wands? Are there left-handed _wizards?_ And what the _heck_ do you wear to get on a train with people who can probably Transfigure anything they want into whatever they want it to be?:
Leslin had already read her textbooks; she'd got them right after the letter came, and _that_ was at the beginning of the summer. And being invited to a private school for magic wasn't so routine in her family that she wouldn't want to know what she was heading for, now was it?
Her parents, sedentary, both definitely the don't-disturb-my-routine type, had _not_ liked Diagon Alley. And that may have been why they got annoyed and dragged her home before she could get a wand.
And she really, _really_ did not want to explain that to anybody at this school for Magick. Maybe she was being immature, but it was _embarrassing,_ that her parents were too scared of the wizarding world to accompany her back into it. They'd even fled the train station, which they both used to get to work and which they'd probably never look at with complete trust again.
In any case, the good news was that she had "robes," a cauldron, quill and _lots_ of parchment, and all her textbooks. However, there had been some kind of book with wings, and there were twenty or so of them perched on the rafters, and _that,_ even more than Madame Malkin's, had driven them into quiet hysteria that had taken nearly a week to calm them out of. So, as usual saving the best for last, as she was wont to do, they had never gotten to the wand shop, which, from the talk of all the other "first- years," was the most amazing part of the whole thing. And _no_ one she had casually mentioned it to had ever heard of someone coming to Hogwarts without a wand.
They had gone to Gringotts first, of course. :Maybe,: she thought, :maybe if they hadn't been presented with Goblins the absolutely _first_ thing, we could have made it in and out without that premature exit.: They'd been at least discreet about their panic; it wouldn't "do to frighten the child, after all, Richard," as she had heard late that night. There had been no screaming, no fainting. Just very white faces, and a hurried retreat through the pub into the "safe" street, where they could apparently no longer see the Leaky cauldron. _She_ could. Her parents had been holding tightly onto her hands, one each as they used to do when she was four or five. She hadn't proved herself so immature as to pull towards the pub yearningly as she wanted to. It was _Magic!_ :You don't turn away from magic when it presents itself.:
That had been in "Hogwarts, A History," a quote by one of the survivors of the Final Battle against Lord Voldemort. Hermione granger, the friend of Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had said it. "You don't turn away from magic when it presents itself. There are good parts to the magical world, and bad parts, but a wizard (Leslin capitalized Wizard in her own mind) or witch can live as a Muggle (that meant someone who couldn't do magic; like her parents) if they want to; if you don't learn how to do magic, living in the wizarding world would be embarrassing and hard. And I wanted the magic. Voldemort is gone now; its time to get started fixing things like House Elf rights." Leslin, needless to say, wanted to be just like Hermione, a powerful witch who everyone respected, but she rather thought that Hermione Granger's parents had never fled from a few paltry books in their life.
Hogwarts could be seen through the front windows, if she strained. It was just like the pictures, down to the wind moving the pennants about the Quidditch pitch and the Whomping willow just coming into sight around the straight-to-the sky Astronomy tower, a defiance to sordid, dusty London normality.
They couldn't kick her out for not having a wand. And even if they did, she would _sneak_ back in. No one was going to take the magic away from her, and they _better_ not try, because she was going to be a Slytherin just like Severus Snape, and Slythrins were powerful and got what they wanted.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Do you like the little ending tap? I'm a tremendous SSHG fan, and I just _had_ to mention both of them in this. In case you couldn't tell, _this_ means an emphasis on the word, just like italics except that italics make my account do strange upload errors so I'm sticking with what it likes until I figure out the HTML. I wrote this because to my knowledge, NO ONE has ever written this plotline before; the wars are over and life goes on. I mean, it's got to happen sometime, and these are _childerens' books._ The good guys will win.