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Chapter 3 – Diagon Alley

Bia

After Bia read the letter thirty times over, dancing around the room, changing into jeans, a black blouse, and a mint green robe, and reading her letter again, the clock finally read 9:00. Mr. Shafiq would be downstairs, reading The Daily Prophet, and Mrs. Shafiq sitting next to him, blabbering on about the latest gossip while he pretended to listen.

Bia strolled down the stairs, taking her letter with her. Just as she expected, Mr. and Mrs. Shafiq sat in the parlor. Bia went over to her parents. Her father continued reading the paper; Mrs. Shafiq continued her blabbering. "Emily Walsh invited us to a party," Mrs. Shafiq blabbered. "You probably remember me talking about her; she's the woman with the four half-blood girls who we ran into at Diagon Alley once. Two of them are Armelle Britta's age. She was a very talented witch you know – Ilvermorny teacher and everything. But she gave it all up for some muggle, and now has four half muggle children that live in a townhouse. And she thinks we would go to her party." As Mrs. Shafiq continued her blabbering, Bia walked over to her parents.

After a minute of them not noticing her, Bia said excitedly, "I have something to tell you two."

"I'm in the middle of the paper," Mr. Shafiq droned to his daughter. His black eyes never left the paper as he spoke. In looks, Bia didn't look much like either of her parents. She took her father's silky brown hair, but otherwise, she looked nothing like either of them. Her and Mrs. Shafiq shared no obvious similarities. However, Bia was quite happy about this; she didn't want anything in common with Mrs. Shafiq. Bia's skin tone was tan and her eyes a red-brown. Bia hadn't seen anyone remotely related to her with her reddish-brown eyes.

"Armelle Britta, can you not see were busy?" Mrs. Shafiq said, clearly annoyed. She gave Bia a glare as her father returned to his paper. Bia's face turned red. Why could they never pay attention to her? Why hadn't they even noticed it was her birthday? Well, she thought, it's not like they've ever remembered my birthday before. Bia turned around. What was the point? It's not like they were going to change their nature. No, she thought. This was her Hogwarts letter.

"But – "she started.

"Mr. and Mrs. Shafiq, a letter just arrived," their maid, Jazmene interrupted. Bia's face turned redder.

"Jazmene, if you can not see, Grimus and I are busy," Mrs. Shafiq snapped. "And, Armelle Britta, you need to learn some respect."

"Who is it from?" Mr. Shafiq asked Jazmene. "It better not be another one of those pesky Nimbus 5000 ads," Mr. Shafiq muttered.

"It is from Mr. Kace Shafiq," Jazmene replied. Mr. Shafiq and Mrs. Shafiq looked at each other for a moment; Mr. Shafiq immediately went over to Jazmene and grabbed the letter, giving her a nod, as if a thank you. Mrs. Shafiq patted the seat next to her, beckoning Mr. Shafiq to sit next to her.

"Read it, sweetheart, read it to me," Mrs. Shafiq said sweetly.

Mr. Shafiq sat down and started to read. "Dear Mother and Father," he read, "school is swell. The Slytherin's are winning the house cup by 200 points. As usual, the Slytherin Quidditch team is excelling. Our seeker is weak this year, but Isabelle Abbot and I pick up the slack. Classes have been enjoyable and easy. We recently had a Charms quiz on turning vinegar into wine which I aced. If you notice my owl, Constantine, hasn't left, it's because I was wondering if you could give him a few sickles for me to spend in Hogsmeade. I spent all my funds on a present for Isabelle for Valentine's Day and a boxing telescope from Weasley's Wizard Wheezes to hit some ass Gryffindor who boasted about being a better Quidditch player than me. Sadly though, due to his black eye, he couldn't play in the Slytherin versus Gryffindor match. Serves him right. Well, I hope the Thunderbolt II is going well – it's going to beat the Firebolt for sure. The team loves all the Thunderbolts you donated, father. I miss you both very much, Kace Shafiq." Mrs. Shafiq was beaming.

"Oh, our pumpkin is growing up, Grimus."

"Yes, he is, Genova. Yes, he is," Mr. Shafiq said, grinning.

"Oh!" Mrs. Shafiq yelped. "We better give Constantine a few coins." Mrs. Shafiq went over to her purse and grabbed five gallons. "That should last Kace the rest of the year." Mrs. Shafiq sat back down next to Mr. Shafiq.

"I'm glad those Thunderbolts are working well for the team – especially due to all their victories. If they keep it up, maybe there will be a Daily Profit article about the Thunderbolt success."

"That would be excellent, darling!"

"Mother, Father?" Bia asked.

"Armelle Britta, what is it?" Mrs. Shafiq said, clearly annoyed.

"Well, it's my birthday today," Bia started.

Mr. Shafiq's throat bobbed. He looked down at his feet, avoiding eye contact. "I must get going to work," he explained. Mr. Shafiq quickly then walked towards the door.

"I wasn't done Father," Bia muttered.

"Don't mutter, Armelle Britta. It's incredibly impolite," Mrs. Shafiq said.

"If I have not made myself clear," Mr. Shafiq snapped, turning to Bia but looking at a painting behind her, "I have a long day ahead of me. I do not have time for this."

"I understand, Father. But this is important." Bia took a deep breath. She had dreamed about this day, wished for this day to come for years. Maybe her parents hadn't remembered her birthday, but they were going to be proud of her now – they had to be proud of her now. Bia turned to her parents, both of which were clearly bothered. "My Hogwarts acceptance letter came." She brought her letter out from behind her back. "I know… I know you've already done this whole Hogwarts thing with Kace, but I'm really happy about this and… and…"

Bia looked up from her letter to her parents. Neither of their faces were smiling; they were neutral at best. "Congratulations," Mr. Shafiq said dryly before turning out the door. Bia felt a tear beginning to gather in her eye.

"Well, I suppose Jazmene will have to take you to Diagon Alley soon," Mrs. Shafiq concluded. "Why don't you go read a book, Armelle Britta?" Mrs. Shafiq then left the parlor, leaving Bia alone. That… that was it? All that dreaming, all that hoping. Bia turned around and started heading for the stairs. Why did nobody ever care? Everything she did seemed to be ridiculed or ignored; nothing she did could be good enough for her family. Bia started going faster up the stairs, till she went sprinting into her bedroom.

Bia was about to run into her closet yet again when she stopped herself. Get it together, wimp, she thought. Why should she let her parents bring her to her closet? They didn't deserve that.

Mrs. Shafiq couldn't even give up a day to take Bia to Diagon Alley when she had no plans but to sit around. Her father couldn't even embrace her upon hearing about her acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Bia imagined herself a raven. She imagined being able to go anywhere, to be anyone, to feel free. Bia wouldn't need anyone as a bird; her friends would be the earth, sky, and sun. Bia smiled at the thought. How excellent that would be. Knock, knock, Bia heard.

"Come in," she moaned. Jazmene came into her room.

"A letter just arrived from Mrs. Dyena Greengrass. She remembered it was your 11th birthday and asked if you would wish to go with her to Diagon Alley today." It took Bia a minute to process this information. Then she grinned. A surge of hope filled her. Somebody remembered her.

"Tell her I would love to go to Diagon Alley with her," Bia said, delighted.

"She explains that she's going to The Leaky Cauldron at noon and that she can meet you then. I can apparate you over."

"Excellent." Jazmene then nodded her head and left. Bia jumped. She wasn't going to go to Diagon Alley with some pesky maid – she was going with the only person in the world who truly cared for her: Dyena Greengrass!


The Leaky Cauldron was crowded that day. It was jam packed with all sorts of wizards; young old, rich, poor, and drunk. It was a loud and rowdy crowd. "Shut up, ya' drunk! Your drinks gonna be with you in a minute!" Bia heard the bartender shout. Bia scanned the room in search of her aunt. At last, she found her sitting at a table.

"I found her," Bia said to her servant. "You can go." Jazmene quickly disapparated, wanting to get away from the chaos. Bia went over to her aunt. Dyena was beautiful; she had long brown hair, tight cheekbones, and green eyes. Bia smiled and her aunt smiled back. Dyena drew Bia into an embrace.

"My Pureheart," she murmured.

"Aunt Dyena," Bia said back.

After a minute, Dyena left the embrace, still holding Bia's hands. "We better head to Diagon Alley. We have lots of shopping to do," Dyena smiled at her niece; Bia smiled back at her. The two proceeded to walk through the bar then out to the walled courtyard. "Will you do the honors?" Dyena asked. Bia clicked the proper brick on the wall. Though Bia had seen it before, the brick wall opening to Diagon Alley never ceased to amaze her. All the bricks moved aside, leading the way to the magnificent Diagon Alley. Wizards in robes of all colors filled the exciting street. Dyena and Bia strolled the entrance. The street was booming with activity and noise.

"Where are we going first?" Bia questioned.

"Well… let's see," Dyena pulled out a list, "we need to stop at Scribbulus Writing Instruments, Potage's Cauldron Shop, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, Flourish and Blotts, Eeylops Owl Emporium, Apothecary, and Ollivanders. You brought money I assume?"

"Jazmene gave me 30 galleons before she left."

"That should work," Dyena said, still smiling. Dyena had an excellent smile – she had luscious red lips and pearl white teeth. If she wanted to, she could make a whole arguing room of people happy with her smile. Bia had always wished she possessed it to, but she only got small, peach lips, with large, awkward teeth.

"How about we go to..." Dyena suddenly stopped mid-sentence. She looked over to Ollivanders, her expression stiff. She suddenly seemed paralyzed. What is it? Bia wondered. She shook her aunt's arm. After a moment, Dyena blinked, and turned back to Bia, attempting a smile. "How about I go over to Apothecary – grabbing potions ingredients is a dull process anyway – and you go to Ollivanders." Dyena suddenly became serious and looked Bia right in the eye, "I just feel that a wizard finding their wand is a process that should be done alone." Bia looked up at Dyena to see her aunt's smile gone and replaced with a serious expression.

"I understand," Bia said, confused. It wasn't often that Bia Shafiq was confused.

"Good. We can meet outside Ollivanders after," Dyena said, her grin returning. "I wonder if old Garrick is still in that shop. If he is, tell him Dyena says hello."

"I will." Dyena kissed Bia on the cheek and headed to the other direction. Why had Dyena suddenly turned so grim? What was over at Ollivanders that stopped Dyena from going? Bia cautiously began going over to Ollivanders, carefully looking around for anyone suspicious. To her annoyance, despite how slow she was walking, her robe kept on getting stepped on. Eventually, she reached Ollivanders. Bia opened up to the door; the store was filled with thousands of wand cases all messily stacked up on each other. In the middle of the room stood a very old man who's oily white skin was covered in wrinkles. "Why don't you try this one? Phoenix feather, willow wood, 13 inches," he said to an another girl in the room. This girl was a few inches shorter than Bia, had short, caramel brown hair, a cinnamon skin tone, and large chocolate brown eyes. She wore an elegant lavender robe that had to have cost at least five gallons. Her mother – or at least what Bia assumed to be her mother – stood behind her, her hands laid on her daughter's shoulders. The woman posture was upright as if she was trying to look taller than she really was. She scanned the room, looking unimpressed by anything but her daughter. For some reason, Bia felt she had met the two before.

"Ollivander?" The mother asked.

"Yes, Mrs. Nott," the old man croaked. Bia remembered that name; the Nott family had gone to her mother's parties before. The girl's name was Alea Nott. Mrs. Shafiq had always encouraged having a friendship between the two, but Bia had never liked Alea much. Envy always ran through Bia when she saw how Alea's parents doted on her.

"I don't think that wand will do for my Alea. She needs Dragon core heartstring – it's a family tradition," Mrs. Nott said egotistically.

"But, Mrs. Nott, you see, the wand chooses the –"

"Ollivander, you have told us that five times already. Now, could you please grab my daughter a wand with dragon core heartstring?" Mrs. Nott said, clearly getting impatient. Alea smiled up at her mother.

"Whatever you please, madam." Mr. Ollivander went back to the shelf and picked out a brown wand case. "10 inches, dragon core heart string, aspen wood. Great wand for dueling." Alea picked up the wand. "Why don't you… say 'Wingardium Leviosa,' aiming at that pot."

Alea simpered and picked up the wand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she said. The pot levitated in the air, up, up, and up.

"And the family tradition remains… this time," Ollivander muttered, looking at Mrs. Nott in a way that perplexed Bia. Mrs. Nott glared back at Mr. Ollivander. "Congratulations, Alea." Ollivander gave the wand case to Alea, as Mrs. Nott gave seven galleons to the old man. "Best of luck at Hogwarts." Alea didn't even respond, and only walked out the door with perfect posture and her head held high. Ollivander looked out after Alea for a moment, his face puzzled.

"Now," he suddenly said, making Bia jump, "it's your first year at Hogwarts as well, I assume?"

"Yes, sir," Bia replied.

"Your name?" Ollivander asked.

"Bia Shafiq."

"Ah, yes. I remember your parents. Your father took a wand of 15 inches, phoenix feather core, and chestnut wood. Your mother took a wand of 10 inches, unicorn hair core, and hawthorn wood." Ollivander scanned over Bia as if taking in everything; her height, weight, facial features, posture, her gait. "Now it's your turn."

Ollivander went over to his desk, taking out a tape measurer. He the proceeded to go back to Bia to measure her height. "Five feet tall," he whispered. "About 90 pounds." Ollivander then went to the back of his room, walking very slowly. Bia suddenly feared that any moment this man was going to have a fatal fall.

"Do you need any help, sir?" Bia asked.

"No, thank you though," Ollivander replied. "It's not very often a girl your age asks that." Bia blushed, and an instant later felt like slapping herself – what would Mrs. Shafiq think of her helping an old half-blood? She recalled what Mrs. Shafiq said about a half-blood woman earlier: "She was a very talented witch you know – Ilvermorny teacher and everything. But she gave it all up for some muggle, and now has four half muggle children that live in a townhouse. And she thinks we would go to her party." What was Bia doing?

Ollivander had returned from the back of the room. "Why don't you give this one a try. 12 and a half inches, Dragon core heartstring, Hazelwood. Just aim over at… that ladder. The old thing broke last week. Aim at it and say 'Reparo.'"

Bia look out the wand. It was a fine wand with designs that looked like Ancient Runes all over. She pointed at the ladder. "Reparo!" she said. The ladder tore into two.

Ollivander snatched the wand from Bia. "Not that one! Not that one!" Ollivander rushed back – as fast as he could rush back at his age – to the other side of the room. After a minute, he came back to Bia. "This one may do you better. 10 inches, unicorn hair, and pear wood. Why don't you levitate the pot."

Bia took the wand out of Ollivander's hands. This wand was fatter than the first one and had bead designs going throughout itself. "Wingardium Leviosa!" she said, aiming the wand towards the pot. The pot raised about an inch before smashing back down. Bia's face turned pink, embarrassed at breaking yet another thing.

"That won't do," Ollivander croaked, taking the want from Bia. Ollivander went to the shelf next, picking out a long box. "Maybe?" he whispered to himself. "This wand is a very long wand; 16 inches – like your father's – with unicorn hair and Holly wood. Why don't you try to fix my pot?"

The wand Ollivander handed Bia was beautiful; its shaped looked similar to that of a unicorn's, and it was colored silver. And it was similar to her father's wand – maybe it could be a sign. A sign that one day, she and her father would connect. Dictating as clearly as possible, Bia said: "Reparo!"

Nothing happened to the pot.

"How strange," Ollivander said. "I usually get the right wand by now." Ollivander looked around his room, before grabbing two chairs. "Please sit," Ollivander gestured towards a chair, "and tell me a story."

"A story?" Bia questioned.

"Yes. A story that will tell me some about yourself so I can find you the right wand."

Bia sat down. "Well…" Bia thought for a minute – what story could she tell? Then, she knew. "Ever since I was a little girl, Transfiguration has always fascinated me. The idea of being able to change something to something else – the idea of being able to turn myself into something else just seemed so exciting. And I have an older brother, Kace. You probably remember getting him a wand. He's a sixth year at Hogwarts now, and during his third year, I started to wonder what became of all his old textbooks. I snuck into his room and saw that he still had all of them. I first went to my mother and just as I thought she would, she refused to let me use them, explaining that they were her son's – not mine.

"Now, my mother doesn't like me much as is. I couldn't even imagine how mad she would be if I did more to anger her. But, this idea couldn't escape my mind. I could be ahead of everybody else in my class, I could succeed in Hogwarts with those books. I was only able to keep myself from grabbing them for about a night. Then I couldn't resist anymore. I grabbed all of Kace's books from his first year at Hogwarts. The one that interested me the most – of course – was the book about Transfiguration.

"Eventually, my mother found out that I had stolen Kace's books; when she did, she was furious. She charmed the rest of his school books so I couldn't get to them. Luckily though, she never got the few books I managed to snag back." Bia finally looked up at the end of the story to see Ollivander smiling.

"I enjoyed that story."

"You did?"

"Yes, I did." Ollivander then got up from his chair. "And now, I know the perfect wand for you." Ollivander went to his desk and pulled out a dusty wand case. He blew on it and then opened it. "Here you go," he said, handing the wand to Bia. "This is one of the few wands still here made Gerbold Ollivander, my grandfather. In one of his last writings, he said, 'Give only the wands I have left to the ones I would deem worthy.' My grandfather was a stubborn, funny, brave, noble man. And you, Ms. Shafiq, he would like you." Ollivander smiled at Bia who smiled back, though slightly confused. What made her worthy to some dead wandmaker? "This wand is 11 and ¾ inches has ash wood, and has dragon core heartstring. An excellent wand for transfiguration."

Bia looked at the wand. Its grip was molded to be wider than the rest of the wand and filled with stars and crescent moons etched in. The rest of the wand was filled with elegant lines that looked like ribbons. It all seemed to be minted with gold leaf. "It's beautiful," Bia whispered.

"Isn't it? My grandfather was an excellent wandmaker. Meticulous craftsmanship. He made it his job to have all of his wands be pieces of art."

"May I try it?" Bia asked.

"Be my guest," Ollivander replied. Bia aimed at the broken pot. "Reparo!" she said. Suddenly, the broken pieces flew up into the air and went back into their proper places.

"Excellent!" Ollivander said. Bia was beaming. Ollivander grabbed the wand box and gave it to Bia. The wand box was almost as spectacular as the wand; though dusty, it was colored dark red, with golden vine designs encircling it. In it, hand-written was the word Ollivanders. "Take good care of that wand," he said.

Bia replied, "I will."

"Good luck at Hogwarts," the old man said – not in the way he said it to Alea Nott, but in a sincere way.

"Thank you." She started walking out the door. "One more thing," she said, turning back to the old man, "My aunt wanted me to say hello for her."

"Tell her I say hello back." Bia nodded and left Ollivanders.


Once Bia had left Ollivanders, her aunt was waiting for her. "What took you so long?" she asked.

"Ollivander – and he was the same one you saw – took awhile to find me the proper wand. When he couldn't find me a good wand after three tries, he made me tell him a story. But then," Bia said, smiling, "he found me this." Bia took out the golden wand. Dyena took it in her hands.

"It's a beautiful wand for a beautiful girl," Dyena said. Dyena looked over it for another minute and then said, "I got all the potions ingredients you needed. I grabbed a cauldron too – Potage's Cauldron Shop is a dull place anyway. Where do you want to go next?"

"How about… Eeylops Owl Emporium?"

"Sounds excellent." Bia and her aunt walked over to a quaint brick store with three owls in cages on the outside. She saw through the large windows a dozen wizards and witches looking at owls. Bia walked in; a bell rang at her arrival. She looked up to her aunt. "Shall we?"

Bia roamed around the cozy store, in search for an owl. Owls in metal cages were everywhere; on her left, on her right, on top of her. Eeylops Owl Emporium was loud as well. Every owl seemed to be hooting at the same time. Bia grinned. The store was marvelous. She kept on looking through the cages; she first saw a Snowy owl, but the decided against it due to its popularity; she then saw a Flammulated owl – though it was cute, Bia quickly realized it was far too small to carry lots of mail; the next owl that catches her eye was a Spectacled Owl. Bia moaned – her brother had a Spectacled Owl. She kept on searching for the right owl – there were dozens of them – but none of them were right.

"Bia!" her aunt shouted. Bia went through aisles, trying to find her aunt. After a minute, she found Dyena. "What do you think of this one?" she asked of a owl about a foot-and-a-half tall. The owl was a reddish-orangish color with intelligent green eyes. As Bia looked at the owl, the owl looked back at her. As Bia examined the owl, the owl seemed to examine her back. "He's an Eastern Screech-Owl. Slightly modified with a charm to make him larger. The description says he's two years old and he'll live about 15 years."

"Can I get him?" Bia asked her aunt without hesitation.

"Of course," her aunt said, her magnificent smile returning again. Dyena asked an employee to grab the Eastern Screech-Owl off his hook as Bia grabbed a large packet of owl nuts. The two then went over to the checkout stand. Bia grabbed 16 galleons (needing 7 sickles in change) out of her pocket when her aunt stopped her. "I can pay for this one."

"Are you sure?"

"Pureheart, once you see all the Transfiguration books in Flourish and Blotts, you'll be happy if you have money to spare." Dyena then gave 16 galleons to the employee. "Keep the change." Bia and Dyena then walked out back into the crowded street of Diagon Alley. Bia held her new owl in her hand, and couldn't help but feeling very proud about owning him.

"What should we name him?"

Bia thought about it for a minute. She could have this beautiful owl for 13 years – this name was important. "Why not… Laurent."

"Laurent?" her aunt questioned.

"We can call him Laurie," Bia said, smiling.

"Then Laurent it is."


Bia laid in her bed, reading her new books all night. She had let Laurie out to get dinner; he was a marvelous bird. Bia had bought:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), A History of Magic, Magical Theory, One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, Magical Drafts and Potions, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, and The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection for school (Kace's copies were old and tattered), but like Dyena had guessed, there were many other Transfiguration books she wanted to buy. Bia bought Famous Animagi, Transfiguration: A Complicated Art, A Guide to Transfiguration: Book 1, Transforming, A Guide to Transfiguration: Book 2, Vanishment, A Guide to Transfiguration: Book 3, Conjuring, and A Guide to Transfiguration: Book 4, Untrasfiguration. Bia was eager to read all her books but decided to read the school textbooks first.

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection caught her eye first. Bia had started reading it and quickly became obsessed with the book. Though Transfiguration was undoubtedly the subject she was most looking forward to, Defense Against the Dark Arts had always attracted Bia as well. The Unforgivable Curses in particular. What would it be like if she could control her parents? If she could make them pay attention to her? She could have everything she wanted, she could be the beloved child.

Bia sighed.

If only.