Madam Malkin had never seen a scragglier little boy enter her shop than the one that had just passed through the door, closely followed by what she assumed to be his rather nervous-looking father. She smiled at them in welcome and bustled over, collecting her wand from the counter on her way to greet her first customers for the day.
"Good Morning and welcome to Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occaisons! What can I do for you today, sir?" The boy moved closer to his father as a measuring tape suddenly appeared and began to take the older man's measurements; he was pale and covered in faint scratches, Madam Malkin could see, and very timid. His father put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him forward firmly but kindly, clearing his throat.
"It is my son who is need of your services today, ma'am," he explained, "as he will shortly be commencing at Hogwarts." There was a hint of pride in his voice as he said told her this, but also a great deal of angst. The boy shrunk further toward his father at the mention of the School. Madam Malkin, although surprised (the boy looked too small for eleven - she had guessed him to be about 9) lead the pair to one of the stools she used for fittings and gestured the boy towards it. He didn't move.
Smiling kindly at him, she offered some words of encouragement.
"It's alright I won't hurt you, up you get." With a reassuring look from his father, he let go of his robes and stepped up onto the stool. Madam Malkin fetched the smallest set of Hogwarts robes she could find and handed them to him. When he put them on they fell past his feet, but not quite to the floor. Madam Malkin retrieved her clothes pins from the counter and moved to hem the robes at the boy's feet, however he flinched away when she came near him. Again she gave the boy a gentle smile.
"I just need to take up these robes, see?" She fluttered the long black fabric. "Otherwise you might get blown away with the owls!" He smiled nervously at her joke and allowed her to begin pinning the robes up around his feet. As she did this she murmured, "There we go, see? I don't bite." The boy went rigid as she said this, causing the robes to move unexpectedly and Madam Malkin to pin herself to the fabric by accident. The boy apologised immediately, as did his father, talking very quickly.
"Terribly sorry, he's just nervous, and yesterday he received a nasty bite from our cat, and he's scared to be leaving home, I'm so sorry..." He gave his son a sharp look, then glanced nervously out of the shop window. "Uh, is there any way for you to do this a bit faster? I don't mean to be rude, ma'am, but we have lots to do today." Madam Malkin, having finished pinning the boy's robes, straightened up to talk to his father.
"Of course sir," she said, flicking her wand towards the robes, which immediately began stitching themselves together, much to the boy's terror. He did not make a sound though, and a moment later the needles stopped stitching and flew back to their box on the counter. Looking at boy, who was now examining his robes in the mirror with a weak smile on his face, she said, "You can take those off now, dear," and to his father, "that will be 14 sickles, thanks." He paid her and they left the shop, the tiny boy clutching the parcel containing his new robes to his chest. "Good luck!" Called Madam Malkin, and the boy waved, a smile returning to his pale, scratched face.
The next place on their list was to be the apothecary, but after checking his watch the small boy's father lead him instead to a dusty old store called Olivander's. The bell tinkled as they entered and moments later a slightly frazzled old man appeared behind the counter. He gave the boy and his father an appraising look then said quietly,
"Ah yes. Dumbledore mentioned I'd be meeting you this year." His gaze lingered on the small, scruffy boy, but his next words were clearly addressed to his father. "You may leave him with me if you wish. You know your secret is safe here." The boy's father nodded his thanks and bent to talk to his son, placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Listen, I have to collect some of your other equipment before it gets too crowded. I'll be back in no time at all." His son gripped his arm tightly and cast a fearful glance at the old wizard still staring at him from behind the counter. His father squeezed his shoulder. "It's alright. Mr Olivander knows." With another encouraging shoulder squeeze the boy's father nodded to Olivander and hurried out of the shop. The boy looked up at the old wizard and gripped his parcel tighter in front of him, as if it were a shield. There was a tense silence for a moment, then;
"Remus Lupin, it is a pleasure to meet you indeed." The ancient wizard smiled down at the scared little boy, and extended a hand towards him. Slowly, Remus reached out and shook it weakly. Olivander's eyes twinkled. "Now, now, that won't do, how do you expect to keep hold of a wand with a grip like that?" He offered his hand again and this time Remus took it and gave it a squeeze as he shook it. "Much better!" Olivander exclaimed, reaching under the counter and producing two dusty, rectangular boxes. "I took the liberty of selecting two possible candidates before you arrived, to speed up the process." He removed the lid from one box and took out a polished length of dark wood, holding it handle-first towards Remus. "Blackthorn and dragon heartstring. Nine and a half inches. Nice and supple." Remus took the wand hesitantly, looking extremely nervous. Nothing happened. "No, definitely not. Here." Olivander handed him the second wand, which was pale and long. "Yew and Unicorn hair, 15 inches." Again Remus took the wand, but again nothing happened. Olivander squinted his eyes at him and took the wand back. His fingers fluttered along the shelves and slid out more wand boxes, though he didn't take any. Finally, Remus' curiosity overwhelmed his shyness. In a quiet voice, he asked;
"I'm sorry sir, but what was wrong with those wands? The second one was a bit long, but the first one seemed alright." Olivander stopped and returned to a box that he'd slid partially out of the shelf. Taking it out, he opened the box and examined the wand inside.
"Bit long, eh? Try this. Ten and a quarter inches, cypress and unicorn hair. Pliable." He handed it Remus who gasped in a mix of fear and wonder as bright sparks flew from the wand's tip. Olivander smiled. "The wand chooses the wizard, dear boy. No one knows why, or how, only that while a wizard can work with almost any wand, for his best work he needs his own." Confused and a still a little shocked by the sparks, Remus handed back his wand so it could be wrapped and paid for.
"But what if a wand doesn't-" his question was cut off by the opening of the door as his father entered, weighed down with school supplies.
"Found one yet?" He asked, and Mr Olivander tapped the parcel on the counter.
"Indeed. Seven Galleons, please." Remus' father handed over the money, and Remus eagerly took his new wand. "Good day to you both," he said as they headed out of his shop. "And Remus," he called, before the boy had exited completely, "no witch or wizard has ever left my shop without a wand, but if they do you'll be the first to know." Remus nodded and scurried to catch up with his father, who was heading towards a large and extremely lopsided store with stacks of books piled high in its windows. Looking at all the coloured covers Remus felt excitement pushing away his nerves.
"Our last stop." Said his father, opening the door for him and following him inside. Remus' eyes widened as he took in the high shelves, stacked with volumes with strange and fascinating titles. The Trouble with Tea Leaves was perched precariously upon a stack of books about divination; the psychedelic cover of Modern Magical Marvels caught his eye as he passed; and over in the Muggle Studies section he swore he could hear music coming from a large volume entitled Beatlemania: The Magic of Music. His father smiled down at him.
"Why don't you go and choose something you'd like to read? I'll be over by the counter." He nudged Remus towards the shelves and approached the middle-ages wizard at the counter, taking out the Hogwarts booklist. Remus wandered the shelves, dragging his hands across the covers and stopping every now and then to take a book down and read the back. Eventually his hands came to rest on a magnificent tome, it's cover hard leather and decorated with moving etchings of magical creatures and the title Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. He took it from the shelf, standing on his tip-toes to reach it properly, and opened it. On the inside cover was a photo of a handsome young wizard captioned 'Newt Scamander' and a blurb about his life. The photo grinned at Remus and pointed to the contents page. With a start he realised it was urging him towards the chapter on Werewolves. He looked at the picture of the author, horrified, but the man in the photograph didn't seem to care. On the contrary, he looked straight at Remus and winked. Remus almost dropped the book in shock. Hands shaking, he turned to the page the photograph had indicated and begun reading.
Among my travels I have met many a misunderstood creature, though none so thoroughly misjudged as the Werewolf. Considered by most to be highly dangerous and a threat to wizard kind, I was apprehensive before my first meeting with one. I soon found out, however, that the man I was so afraid of sharing a meal with was in fact quite normal, and to my surprise I rather liked him.
Remus' eyes read and re-read the opening paragraph, moving so fast they were almost a blur. A wide smile spread on his small face. Hurrying back to his father he placed the book on the counter beside the rest of his school books. His father looked taken aback.
"Erm, are you sure you want this one?" He asked, and Remus nodded enthusiastically. He looked at the large volume and back at his excited son. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen Remus this happy, but was worried that it might not last when he reached the section on dangerous creatures. Still, a promise was a promise, so he paid for the book along with all the school texts and handed it to his son, who immediately opened it again, this time reading from the beginning. They exited the shop and left Diagon Alley just as the morning crowd was arriving. There was still one week until he would be leaving for Hogwarts, and they had one more challenge to get through before then: there was to be a full moon tomorrow night.