A young girl ran along the cobbled pathway excitedly; long, thick, brown hair flying behind her in the slight breeze she found so entertaining. Looking up, azure blue eyes glinting in a refraction of sunlight. Her irises matched the exact shade of sky. Turning, she paused at the edge of the traditional English road, headed by the traditional English lamppost that belonged centuries back.

A huge, red, double Decker bus skimmed passed, a new dirty breeze ruffling the young girls exquisite hair. She took in a small breathe of air, looked down the path she had just ran, and far up her gaze met those of her parents.

The girl obviously had her mother's hair, for it was as long, thick and brown as hers. She also had her mother's dazzling, azure eyes. Though the other eyes that met the younglings bore a harder expression.

Her father, however, seemed evident to the origins of the girl's facial features. High cheekbones, not too bushy eyebrows and a fantastic smile. Unlike her mother, this man obviously enjoyed his daughter's clear displays of joy.

"Natasha, don't run too far ahead!" screeched the mother, dressed in a cream coat that reached her knee's, seashell buttons connecting the seams. Under the woman's knee's showed black tights and high heels: Not smart to wear when you had a child such as Natasha.

Her father, with his fantastic toothy grin, wore a white, crisp shirt covered by a brown jacket, with jeans and trainers covering his lower regions. No passer-by would be able to tell just what this seemingly typical family really were.

Well, more what the young girl was.

Her name was Natasha Bennet, and she was a young witch. Wearing her own pink atrocity of a jacket, a pink t-shirt underneath, blue denim jeans and dreadful pink boots, she blended in perfectly with London.

"Come on, mum!" yelled the physical embodiment of hyper. "I can see the sign from here!"

Still ecstatic over the news of being accepted as a student of Hogwarts Academy, Natasha just couldn't calm down. Everything had to happen quicker! Her parents were absolute Sloth's in her mind.

Down the next street her pretty eyes refused to leave, among the little hustle-bustle that came with 7am on a Sunday morning, a sign hung above a seemingly typical building. The sign was dark, but the image of a Black Cauldron was clear.

Next thing she knew, Natasha was striding through the bright, exuberant place that was Diagon Alley, surrounded by some of the most famous wizarding shops in existence. Apothecary, the fascinating but very smelly shop that sells potions and their ingredients. The Cauldron shop, well, that explains itself.

Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, again, the name says it all. Flourish & Blotts, the local bookshop that was and still is renowned for its impressive collection.
And then came Gringotts Wizarding bank. Probably the most eye-catching of all the buildings, seeing as it forked a pathway and was dominantly the largest building in Diagon Alley! It was as famous as it was infamous. Of course, being run by Goblins, that was only natural. The party of three, being Natasha and her parents stopped and
stood in awe of this sight more than the others.
 It was simply unheard of to see a building this size! I mean, really. This wizarding high street was unknown to the human world, but surely even magic couldn't mask the beauty and mystery that held their eyes in a vicelike grip. The building, with its gleaming, marble walls and gargoyle ridden features, the gigantic bronze doors. It was hypnotizing.
Natasha gulped, and instantly became the shy little girl she always had been in Primary School, reaching out to take her mothers and fathers hands. Returning back to reality, well, wizarding reality, Natasha's father shook his head and cleared his thoughts.
"Come on, I'll make a jab at a guess and say that's Gringotts."
Natasha muddled through the hoards of books compiled within Flourish & Blotts, forgetting about the books she needed, attracted by the books she wanted. Thankfully, she came from an impressive background when it came to matters of money, and she was sure she would leave that particular shop with an actual wheelbarrow full of interesting scrolls, tomes, novels, general schoolbooks.
Everything about magic was fascinating: It was a deep well inside her body, untouched but for the letter received from Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry.
For once, Maria Bennet too was intrigued by this world of magic. In reality, she was a librarian, and so a bookshop of all things couldn't possibly be anymore of a treasure trove! Along with her daughter, together they must've compiled fifty books on the counter, a baffled employee witch wondering how on earth these Muggles would carry such a load.
After twenty minutes of checkouts, they were on their way!
Turned out the books could be sent to Hogwarts via the 'Owl Post Office.' At an extra cost, of course.
"Anymore stops along the way?" asked Natasha's father, recalling details and striking them off with his fingers. "Cauldron, ingredients, books …"
Natasha gasped in absolute horror, casting her bag laden arms in front of her body in order to stop them walking. "Wand!" And with that, once again, the Bennet family were on their way through the wondrous beauty that was Diagon Alley. And it wasn't long before the three-man family found 'Olivander's Wand Shop.' It was a dirty, rank building from the outside, so unlike the others upon the wizard high street. Natasha, shy as always, forced her mother and father through the glass paned doorframe, nestling behind the taller parents legs. The shop seemed empty and lifeless. Once again, so unlike the others on Diagon Alley. "Uh, Hello, anyone in?" called Natasha's father, Henry Bennet. "Be with you within moments!" called a voice from far behind a huge, mahogany, varnished counter. Behind the counter rose countless stacks of thin boxes upon shelves. Natasha, Maria and Henry had no idea what on earth they could be. They had been Muggles after all, having assumed this would be the simplest of their trials. Pick up a stick and do some magic? Ha! Not likely. And then, a man with copious amounts of white, not grey, hair sprouting from his entire head, and silver eyes, appeared behind the counter. "Ah, by the looks of you, Muggles," exclaimed the man who could only be assumed as Olivander. "Yes! Alright then, and this is our new wand bearer I see? Excellent, I'll toot back here and see what we can find." With that, Olivander jostled backwards, leaving with just enough time for the family of three to exchange very unusual expressions before reappearing just as he had came, apparently from nowhere. "Yes my dear, step forward if you please and take a swing at this." The old man held several boxes bunched up in his right arm, his left hand extended a long, thin, grey box. Natasha lifted the flap, hands shaking, and throat dry. Within the box lay a long, wooden stick. That's how Natasha described it anyhow. Picking it up clumsily, she waited for something to happen, which didn't occur. "Give it a wave, silly!" And with that order in her mind, Natasha waved the stick, not aiming at anything in particular. A strange light glowed around the young girl with exquisite hair for a moment, and Olivander gasped with joy. Natasha and her parents were baffled. "Redwood, ten and three quarters of an inch. On the thin side, with dragon heartstring as source," remarked Olivander with a kind, childish grin. "I've never heard such gibberish in my life!" exclaimed Maria.

---

The happy – but maybe a little bewildered – family left the renowned Wand Maker and intended to set of for home; That was, until, Natasha's beautiful azure eyes caught sight of a shop they hadn't visited. "Eeylops Owl Emporium," read Henry Bennet with a whisper as a witch walked by his back, holding a jar filled with some vile substance that strongly resembled frogspawn. Natasha's eyes lit up, Henry and Maria Bennet glanced to one another before admitting an instant defeat. "Okay, in we go," conceded Maria. Without waiting, Natasha ran to the cute little shop and burst through the door. Her parents couldn't see her now, but they heard her gasp and quickened their own pace. Though it was all so unneeded as in seconds the young brown haired lass was crooning over a thousand owls. Soft cooing escaped her pale pink lips as she picked up a small midnight black owl with surprising, dazzling emerald eyes. "Oh, look at you!" she exclaimed in a whisper, obviously not wanting to frighten the unusual bird. Maria and Henry fumbled in the semi-dark room – Maria had her hand held pinched over her slim nose. The smell did not bother Natasha nor her more adventurous father. "I've never seen an owl like that before," remarked Henry, surprise lighting up his attractive features. Natasha said nothing and let the owl perch on her forearm, its small but sharp talons circled around her soft, pink skin but not hard enough to actually pierce her delicate state. "Interested in our wee Nocks, are ya'?" rang a strong Irish accented voice from behind the small family. Maria stifled a screech of terror, Henry grimaced in embarrassed but Natasha had been so infatuated with the midnight black owl that she barely noticed the question." "Very much so," she started with her little chiming voice, "He's beautiful." An Irish woman approached the small group; she had long brown hair with thick curls just like Natasha had – something noted by both parents. She was, of course, dressed as a witch. Her dress reached the floor, its colour was ink green, and she wore a hat of the same colour atop her noggin. "That he is, problem is his price." Natasha noticed an unusual tone in the witches voice, as if she was glad the little owl hadn't been sold yet and was confident the little green eyed creature wouldn't be leaving any time soon. "Name the price, then," murmured Natasha, raising her eyes from her new companions, evaluating the witches appearance in a nonchalance way. The witch was certainly unimpressed with Natasha's evaluating glare; she pressed her tongue against the inside of her cheek as if she was contemplating whether even to tell the little muggle. "Fifteen galleons." Natasha looked up to her parents who exchanged another uneasy glance. Henry sighed and delved into his wallet he would use only in the wizarding world. He counted and drew out a handful of large, round golden coins. Natasha heard his curse. "We only have fourteen left, Natasha, sweetheart," he told her in a calm voice. Natasha's face fell in the way a parent wished their child's face would never fall. Henry took on a pained expression with Maria - the witch grinned triumphantly. "Oh," Natasha's voice shook slightly and her lower lip trembled. "Oh for goodness sake!" yelped Maria, suddenly delving into her purse. Henry raised an eyebrow questioningly before Maria drew out a single golden galleon. A red blush flushed her cheeks and she held the galleon out to her husband. "Well, since we were at Gringotts and all I figured an investment on a few area's would be smart, as well as opening her bank account for this world." The blush refused to leave the woman's embarrassed but pretty face and she looked to the ground. Natasha's look at her mother bewildered already that she of all people had saved the day. The witch's expression was stunned, then turn to horrified before centring off around a look of sadness. "Umm, well, then we'll take … what did you call the owl? Nocks? Yes, well, we'll take him," issued Henry Bennet, offering the fifteen sparkling coins to the witch. She took them with haste – perhaps she was greedy – and stole them away into a decrepit looking register that may have belonged in the 18th century. "Choose any cage you want," she rasped unpleasantly. "He comes with just about anything in this place." Natasha stood, bewildered again by the fact that she owned just about the strangest owl in the whole of the wizarding existence. Maria Bennet sighed and took towards the far wall that was stacked high with cages, returning a moment later with a tall, box-shaped, wire mesh cage. Moments later the family left the dim light of the emporium and had to blink several times to let their eyes adjust to the much, much brighter light of the wondrous Diagon Alley. The dominant colour was orange, the sky was fading in light and fantastic streaks of red and purple lined the clouds. "Oh, it's almost sunset!" yelped Henry in shock, checking his watch. "Definitely home time." Before Natasha left Diagon alley she bumped into a boy with round glasses accidentally. Apologies were hastily made, but much later that night when Natasha had the chance to calm down and write in her diary, she finally noticed that the boy she had walked clean into had a lightning shaped scare upon his forehead.