Disclaimer: I don't own anything of JKR's. I just get to play with them.

Note: This may be taking a little longer than I thought…Wren is too much fun to cut short. I hope her way of speaking isn't annoying to you all; I'm making her as thoroughly Irish as possible. It's making me do a fair bit of research, too! But that's the fun part. Anyway, you know the drill. Those who review get a free Cheering Charm from me. Those who don't get fed to Fluffy. Your call.

Happy reading!

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"But Dad! I be knowing nothing at all about the wizarding world. How do you expect me to be a-doing this shopping? Its madness, and that's the pure truth of it!"

"Wren," Eamon said casually, "There's nothing to it. I'm going to get you started, but then I have to go to work. Healing's no picnic, you know, and they need everyone to be there."

How strange, that I was there on that exact same day and I didn't feel her there. Its funny…every time she walks into the room now, I automatically sense her. But there in Diagon Alley, we met, we even spoke, but somehow I didn't sense the magic that our futures held for us.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. On that rather misty day, Wren had Apparated with her father for the first time to the Leaky Cauldron, where they were to do all her shopping for school. As Mrs. Gallagher knew absolutely nothing about navigating the magical world, Eamon had promised to get his daughter started, and head to work as soon as she was comfortable. It wasn't the best of scenarios, but after much arguing and pleading, Wren had finally accepted it.

She had found Apparition to be the most absurdly uncomfortable experience that she had yet had in her entire life, and was in no hurry to repeat it. She was, however, in a hurry to get her first taste of the magical world. The Leaky Cauldron itself was overwhelming as she first beheld it.

It was dark inside, and poorly lit. People were sitting at the bar and at various tables, some eating, others just smoking or drinking. A broom and dustpan were moving busily around the room all by themselves, and a wizard was sitting in a dark corner, holding a wand. "Rigamortenia!" He kept shouting, and nothing would happen. Finally, there was an enormous bang, and the glass of ale in front of him turned into a goldfish. "Blast it!" the man cried out. "Another bloody goldfish!" Wren had jumped when the explosion happened, but nobody else in the pub even seemed phased. One matronly witch rolled here eyes and muttered, "He keeps on doing that, he's going to turn himself into a bloody goldfish someday…" But that was the only other reaction.

Wren felt thundering through her feet, and jumped in fright as a giant suddenly eased into view. "Pardon meh, pardon meh…on Hogwarts business, yeh understand…" The man seemed at least seven feet tall, and his feet were as large as Wren's bathtub.
"Saints, pray for us!" she whispered under her breath. "That's the biggest man I've ever laid eyes on, and that's the pure truth of it…" She looked up at her father quizzically, who only smiled and shoot his head. "That's only Hagrid, lovey. Don't be worrying, he's just as kind as he is large. He works at Hogwarts, so I expect you'll be seeing him around." He turned to look around the pub.

A man that Wren thought was a hunchback was wiping down the bar. "Hello, there, Eamon! It's been a while since I've last seen you. That your girl?"

"She be that, Tommy me lad. This is my lass, Wren. She's been accepted into Hogwarts, we're buying her things now."

Tom offered Wren his hand and she shook it hesitantly. "I'm glad to meet you, Wren. You'll have a grand time at Hogwarts. Capital teachers, great headmaster, lots of good kids. You won't have any trouble, I'm sure."

Wren replied softly, "I hope not, but…" her voice got stronger as revulsion with her own timidity caught up with her. Who was she kidding, being all timid? She was an Irish lass, and she needed to be acting like one! "…if any trouble comes my way, its sure I am that I can be handling it."

"Spoken like your father's daughter! If I remember correctly, I hear tell that he was quite the mischief maker in his day." Wren turned to look accusingly at her father, who to her surprise was blushing and scuffling like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar!

"Ach, Tom….we don't need to be telling that to me daughter, now, do we? Come on, Wren, we'd best be moving along." Wren waved good-bye to Tom and followed her father out of the pub.

"Dad, you know told me that you was a rapscallion in your day!" Wren said as she skipped along at the heels of her father.

"Well, now, I didn't want you or your brother thinking that it was ok to act up, now did I? Stand back now, Wren. It be time now to introduce you to Diagon Alley." Puzzled, Wren stood behind her father, thinking that something was going to jump out at her. Eamon pulled out a wand and tapped several bricks in an order the Wren couldn't make sense out of. Suddenly, the wall began to shrink and fold in on itself.

"Begorrah, that's a sight I thought these eyes would never see!" Wren exclaimed, as through the wall she beheld a bustling thoroughfare, packed with shops and people.

Her father gazed fondly at Diagon Alley. "Cor, it's nice to see the old place again. It's been a fair amount of time since I was last here, buying things for Hogwarts. I'm glad to be a-sharing this with you, lassie." Wren shot her father a happy look, but she was barely distracted from the glories of that long street. Witches and wizards and their children were bustling along, gazing inside of shop windows filled with all sorts of things that Wren didn't understand.

"Cauldron sale!" bellowed a window. Wren jumped when a thing that was supposed to be lifeless spoke to her. "'ere now, what're you looking out?" It said indignantly at her. "Uhhh…nothing, nothing at all, window. I've just never heard a window speak before!" Wren replied with great trepidation. "Well, if you ain't going to buy a cauldron, move along! You're blocking the view!" Wren thought about apologizing, but couldn't understand how she would go about apologizing to a window. So she just moved away-quickly.

Eamon turned around and handed his daughter a small leather purse. "There be the money that you'll be needing. I'll take you to get your wand and your school robes, but after that I'll have to be heading on. Your school list is in there, so you'll be able to see what you're required to have. Ah, there's Ollivander's now!" He said, pointing at a drab and almost dusty looking shop. Eamon's brown eyes twinkled down into his daughter's green ones. "The day a witch gets her first wand be an important one, Wrenny. Never thought I'd see the day when a kid of mine would get to buy one…" His voice trailed off, and Wren truly began to understand how much it meant to her father that she was a witch. And just as she began to understand, she felt pressure weighing her down. She didn't dare fail at school. It would destroy her father.

But the moment passed, and while Wren still felt the memory of the pressure in the back of her mind, it was just a memory as they walked into the shop. The Irish girl gazed in amazement at the store. Boxes upon boxes were stacked nearly to the ceiling. She was so distracted by the sheer amount of boxes that she didn't see a wizened man come out from behind the counter. "Ah, Mr. Gallagher! I was starting to wonder when I didn't see you again. Is that wand of yours still working correctly? Eleven inches, oak wood, unicorn tail? Good for Healing, I believe."

"Aye, Mr. Ollivander. Me wand's working capitally, just as it always does. Nay, I'm here with my daughter, Wren. She's just starting Hogwarts, you understand. She be needing her first wand."

Mr. Ollivander's silvery eyes swept over Wren's face, seeming to take everything about her in. She couldn't help but think that he was not just noticing her wild curly hair and easy, crooked smile, but also her very soul. It was a very uncomfortable feeling, like she couldn't hide at all. "Miss Gallagher…it's a pleasure to meet you. Well, let's just get you measured, then."

During the next few minutes, Wren felt as if Mr. Ollivander knew not only her soul, but every facet of her anatomy-his measuring tape went everywhere, even measuring the distance between her eyebrows. "All right, now that that's over, we will be able to get to the truly amazing part," Mr. Ollivander said with a queer gleam in his eye. He handed her a wand. "Nine inches, willow wood, just give it a wave." Not knowing exactly what was expected of her, Wren foolishly waved the wand a little twitch. Mr. Ollivander snatched it from her hand so fast that she feared that she would get a splinter. That wand was quickly replaced with another. "Eight and a half inches, mahogany, go on, then…"

Wren waved five wands before Mr. Ollivander happily climbed up almost to the ceiling, and plucked a seemingly random box from under three others. "Here we are, then. Nine inches, hazel wood. Core of a dragon heartstring." He plucked the wand from the velvet lined box, and Wren took it into her hands. It seemed to warm a little at her touch, and when she waved it in a great, diagonal slash, green waves pouring from its tips. "Ah! I believe we have a winner!" Mr. Ollivander said proudly, as Mr. Gallagher said, "There you are, Wrenny! Knew we'd come to it in the end, lass!"

For herself, Wren was amazed. This was to be her wand, her most important possession ever. She examined the wood carefully, and was pleased with the wand's graceful shape. "I rather thought that the dragon heartstring would be a good choice for you, Miss Gallagher," said Mr. Ollivander mysteriously.

"Why did you be thinking that, Mr. Ollivander?" Wren asked curiously, her accent getting stronger because of her slight fear that there was something wrong or off about her.

"Most witches' first wands have a core of unicorn tail hair. Unicorns prefer young woman, and so the two just seem to work well together. However, you did not seem to work well with the unicorn tail hair, so I decided to try you on the dragon heartstring." He gazed down his nose at her. "Sometimes they work splendidly well on girls who have fiery souls, just as a dragon does."

Wren was pleased with this answer. It just meant that she was a little different. She didn't really have a problem with being called fiery-that was one of the things that her land was so proud of, its spirit and pride.

After the excitement of getting her wand, robe shopping with her father was a definite let down. She stood in Madame Malkin's shop as the nervous woman measured and ran busily around, sewing hems with her wand and pinning sleeves and collars. Eamon arranged to have the robes delivered at their cottage, and then they left the shop.

"Lass, I hate to be leaving, but I must be getting to work. You think that you understand the way wizard money works?" Wren nodded. It wasn't terribly difficult, and the shop keepers were all very kind, anyway. If she ran into trouble, she was fairly confident that they would help her. "Well, then, I'll just be pointing you in the direction of your next stop, and then I'll be on my way. There's the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts. They'll have all your school books there. Just have them delivered to the cottage so you won't have to be carrying them and all." He bent down and gave his daughter a kiss on the cheek. "Have fun! I'll pick you up at the Leaky Cauldron at five o'clock, so be sure that you're waiting!" Eamon stepped back, looked around, and then with a whirl of his robes he disappeared from Wren's view.

All alone now, Wren sighed and squared her shoulders. She could do this, she could find all of her school she? Pretend you're Boann, Wren thought to herself, referencing an Irish mythological goddess, fighting against her husband so that she can have her own way. She was fighting against a god…you're just buying school supplies. This should be easy, compared to making the sun stand still for nine months! With that thought in mind, Wren marched straight into Flourish and Blotts…and was promptly overwhelmed.

Books lined the walls and climbed towards the ceilings. Not only was the shop full of books, it was also full of people. Kids of all ages were around, and shouts of, "Mum, I can't find my Transfiguration book!" and "Now how am I supposed to read "Magical Creatures of the Night if the pages are all black?" filled the room and Wren was bumped and jostled, until she was finally crushed against a wall.

"Begorrah! What a mess this is!" Wren tried to say, but half of her words were muffled as someone's arm was pushed against her mouth. It was a madhouse.

Suddenly, someone grabbed Wren's arm and pulled her away from the wall. "There you are! Now maybe you won't be a wall ornament, although-"

"-a human ornament might be architecturally interesting. What do you say, George?"

"Why, I think it's worth a try, Fred. Let's see." Wren shook her head as two boys, identical, red headed twins by the looks of it, rescued her from her cramped spot and began to hurl themselves against the bookshelves, one of them finally managed to climb up and hang on by one hand. "Think I'll do, Fred?"

The other twin, Fred, Wren presumed, came to stand beside the astonished girl. He held up his hands and gauged where his twin was. "A little more to the left, George. You'll be spaced then between the shelves. Should be striking, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh, without a doubt." George grinned and moved over across the shelves, looking more like a monkey than a boy.

His face was so funny looking with its broad grin that Wren began to laugh. "Saints preserve us!" She finally managed to gasp out. "That be the funniest thing I think I've ever seen, and that's the pure truth of it!"

Fred and George looked admiringly at themselves. "We are a fine lot, aren't we?" said Fred conversationally. Just then, a screech came across the shot.

"Fred! George! Stop playing like monkeys and get over here! How your father thought I could ever get you two off to school all by myself, I'll never know!"

A plump and kind looking woman came dashing over to where her sons were standing. Her hair the same bright red as her sons', she gave them each a stern look. She may be kind, Wren thought, but she's more than a match for those two. I wouldn't want to get on her bad side, that's for sure!

George jumped down from the shelves. "Honestly, Mum, you're depriving the wizarding world of quite the display. How often do you get to see genuine human wall ornaments?"

The mother snorted. "I think we'll all survive, George. Merlin's beard!" she exclaimed, as she was bumped from behind. "This place is busier than I've ever seen!" She turned around, shaking her head, when she noticed Wren standing there, the laughter still shining in her eyes. "Who's your friend, Fred?"

"Don't know yet, mum," answered one of the boys, whom Wren hoped fervently was Fred. She'd lost track by now who was who. "The good people of this shop were taking their best go at squashing her into jelly against the wall. George and I-""-very gallantly," George put in, "-rescued her," Fred finished.

Deciding that she didn't need the boys to speak for her, Wren spoke up. "And I thank you very much for the help. My name be Wren Gallagher. I'm supposed to be getting ready for school, as it were, and would be getting along far better if I weren't threatened by the," she cast a quick look at the twins, "jelly making process."

The mother nodded quickly. "I'm sure you would be, dear. My name's Mrs. Weasley, and these are my sons, Fred," she pointed at one, "and George." The remaining twin nodded. "I've got two others around here somewhere, though heaven knows where they've gone."

"Percy went to go look at the owls, Mum," George (Wren thought he was George, anyway) said, rolling his eyes.

Molly Weasley was a woman of action. Not only that, but she had many children, so she sometimes forgot that not everybody was her child. Her mothering instinct took over now. "Well, then, dear," she said to Wren, "why don't you tag along with us? We'll see that you don't get squashed. Where else do you need to be going?'

Wren explained that she already had her wand and robes, and Mrs. Weasley took it from there. With Molly's expert help, Wren soon had all of her books bought and ready to be delivered at her home. The twins were just as much help in Wren's opinion. Instead of a tedious shopping trip, every mundane incident was an opportunity for hilarity. Wren couldn't remember ever laughing so much or so hard.

The group stayed together the rest of the day, going from shop to shop buying cauldrons, potion making supplies, telescopes, parchment, and inks. They picked up one of the missing brothers, Percy, at the parchment store where he was carefully feeling any piece. "This piece of parchment is one-twelfth of an inch thinner than this one…cutting close to regulation thickness…" he said, with a scandalized click of his tongue. Wren found herself wondering if Percy would start measuring the distance between her teeth and find them completely against code. "They aren't really crooked…" she imagined him saying. "More specifically, they're uneven, and that's a completely different category, you see…"

With great difficulty, Wren eventually learned that Fred and George would be in the first year at Hogwarts, they same as herself. Percy was a third year, and Bill, a big young man with a hearty laugh and slightly longer hair than was normal, was a seventh year and would be Head Boy.

With far less difficulty, Fred and George had learned all about Wren's almost Muggle status, and took great delight in explaining to her about the mysteries of the Muggle world, most of which Wren thought was great exaggerated. For example, she highly doubted that to get into Hogwarts she would have to transfigure herself into a pigeon.

Finally the Weasleys delivered Wren back at the Leaky Cauldron. "So, Wren," said Fred, leaning casually against a table. "If you are need of any magical assistance," "or to be more plain, some good old fashioned fun of the forbidden sort," chimed in George happily, "we'd be happy to oblige you. Well, we'll see you at King's Cross Station! Good luck!" Both twins followed their mother and brothers as they one by one stepped into the fireplace, and were gone in a swirl of emerald smoke.

Wren only had to wait for five minutes when her father suddenly appeared with a crack in the corner. "Ah, there you are, lass! Find everything all right?" Eamon said, already knowing by his daughter's happy face that the day had gone well.

"Aye, Dad. I met a wizarding family, and they helped me along, as it were. The Weasleys…they have lots of boys."

"I think I've heard of them," Eamon said distractedly. "Glad it went well. Now, we've but one more errand to run before we go home. Ready to go back into Diagon Alley?"

Wren was tired, but she was also puzzled. "Dad, I think I got everything I'll be needing," she said. "What need would take us back in?"

Her father merely smiled mysteriously and motioned for her daughter to follow him. With a sigh, she did just that, and they walked back into the much quieter Diagon Alley.

After passing by a few stores, Eamon stopped in front of one called "The Magical Menagerie," where owls hooted and cats purred in the windows. "Your mam and I decided that you should have an owl or a cat for school. It's only proper for our girl to be having some companionship."

Wren squealed and hugged her father. "Oh, Dad! That's wonderful! What do you think I should get?"

Eamon shrugged. "That be your choice. I'll only be doing the paying."

Wren had a very hard time choosing between a cat and an owl (she didn't care for frogs) before finally deciding upon an owl. Cats had never gotten on with her very well, and an owl could carry letters back and forth between her parents and herself. It'd be exceptionally handy. Finally, Wren picked out a brown and white short-eared owl with greenish-yellow eyes. The owl looked quite evil and foul tempered, when in reality it came readily to Wren's arm, and never bit, according to the clerk. As Wren and Eamon walked back to the Leaky Cauldron, the owl's cage hanging from Wren's arm, Eamon smiled and asked, "What're you going to call him, Lass?"

She grinned. "I think he'll be Mac Cuill, after the husband of one of the three founding goddesses of Ireland. He'll just be Mac for short, though." Laughing, Eamon agreed, and they returned home with Mac in tow.

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AN: So what's it gonna be? Cheering Charm or Fluffy? I'd go with the Cheering Charm if I were you….push the darn button!

Next chapter will be up tomorrow, with a good bit of Felix Felicis!