The next few weeks that followed went much the same as usual. Leola woke up before her mum and dad, made a simple breakfast for her family (usually eggs and toast, or an assortment of cereal) and then her and her siblings spent the day in the heat, playing with the other neighborhood children. They never ate lunch during the summers, except on the rare occasion that they were invited to a friend's home. At dinner, they gathered around a big wooden table at the Leaky Cauldron with Tom, and they ate as a family, before going back home and crawling into their beds for the night.

It was only a week before September 1st when Tom finally managed to get away from his beloved bar for the afternoon to take the young girl shopping. Her foster parents had been entirely indifferent to the fact that one of their charges was a witch; they neither condemned her for her differences nor celebrated her on her uniqueness. For this, she found herself grateful.

But though they accepted her for whom she was, it was clear they themselves would not go out of their way to help her take her first steps into her new world, and so, like the surrogate father he had become, Tom stepped up and found the time to accompany her Diagon Alley, his nephew Andrew standing in for him at the pub until he got back.

While Robert, Samuel, and Leola's sister Katie were running about the neighborhood playing with friends, Tom was escorting Leola into the alley behind his pub, and showing her, for the very first time in her life, her first glimpse of magical Britain.

"It's beautiful," the small child whispered in a slightly choked voice as she looked upon the street where cauldrons of all sizes sat glistening under the sun, stirring themselves—smoke and fragrance wafting up from out of them as the potions inside simmered. She looked upon the perfectly waxed marble of Gringott's Bank and thought it beautiful; she even looked through the window of the apothecary, where hanging upside down on display were, among other things, herbs such as rosemary and moonflower, and also rat tails, on sale.

And seeing the clear and undisguised wonder shining like a candle in the dark from the little girl's eyes, Tom, who was a pureblood himself, looked upon the alley which had never been anything extraordinary to him in his entire life, and he thought it was beautiful, too.

"Where shall we go first, Tom?" Leola asked, once she had recovered.

"Well, let's see this list?" he asked, and she pulled it out of her pocket and handed it to him. It was creased heavily and already worn, as though it had been folded and unfolded dozens, maybe hundreds of times in its existence. Pretending he hadn't noticed the letters wear, he unfolded it carefully and proceeded to read from the list: "'First-year students will require: three sets of plain work robes, one pointed hat for day wear, one pair of protective gloves, and one winter cloak.' I reckon we ought to head to Gringott's first, Leola. I have the key sent by Headmaster Dumbledore to access your Hogwarts fund."

"My fund?"

"Gifted by the school for those with magical abilities who otherwise couldn't afford the private education."

"So, like… a scholarship?"

"What's a scholarship?" Tom asked, scratching his bald head as they walked toward the beautiful structure that was Gringott's.

"Umm, muggle thing." Leola muttered, embarrassed. She was happy when Tom changed the conversation to more light-hearted topics.

After leaving Gringott's, the pair went to a second-hand robe shop, where they found everything Leola needed quite easily, although most of her purchases were slightly too large for her. Tom offered to transfigure them later to be her size, until she could grow into them properly.

Once they left there, they preceded to the apothecary, then on to the next shop for quills, ink, and parchment, Tom even took her to the familiar store, and the Quiddich shop, though she could afford nothing from either place. She enjoyed window shopping with him immensely. From there they journeyed into the book store Flourish and Blotts, which was packed with other Hogwarts students and their families shopping desperately for last minute school things.

Tom told Leola to have a wander while he made his way through the store with the list of books the girl would need for her first year. When he found her, twenty minutes later, she had found herself a seat on a window seal near an open window, where a light breeze was caressing her long brown hair as it blew its way into the shop, airing the stuffy room out. Her face was pressed to the book in front of her as though she were trying to consume it with all of her senses, as if just seeing the words were not enough. He had often seen her reading with a similar vivacity in the corner of his pub by the fire on cold winter nights, and rainy spring evenings.

He found her to be reading a used copy of "Hogwarts, A History." Underneath that book, lay a very large used book titled "History of Wizarding Britain: 500 B.C. – 1945 A.D." He added both of them to the pile of books under his arm and led her to the register at the front of the shop. When she began worrying out loud at the cost of the extra books, Tom had to bend down to her eye level to assure her that Hogwarts would not begrudge her a few extra sickles to educate herself.

Finally, they stopped outside of a shop with a sign boasting itself as Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Leola skipped inside with a megawatt smile blossoming on her face and the appearance of the dusty, disorganized shelves within the poorly lit shop did nothing to diminish her happiness. They had saved the best for last. And now, finally, this was the moment that Leola would truly become a witch. Surely, once a wand had chosen her, they couldn't take back her acceptance letter. Once she had a wand, she would belong here among the cloak-wearing pedestrians, the children on their toy brooms, flying two feet off the ground at their mother's sides, the customers waiting in line down the street for a bag of dragon roasted chestnuts.

"Good morning," said a soft monotone voice from somewhere in the shadows to Leola's left.

She jumped at the noise, realizing that he had been able to make himself invisible somehow, but instead of retreating into herself as she would have done if she were still a muggle, Leola held her head up high and replied, "Good morning, how are you?" In her bravest voice. After all, if she was to belong in this world now, she could not be frightened of such trivial things as a man who could make himself appear as if out of nowhere.

The man with the white hair smiled toothily at her before acknowledging Tom with a nod. "Tom. How are you my boy? Is your wand still working well for you? Eight and a half inches, ebony, with a core of unicorn hair, correct?" The man asked, though it did not truly seem to be a question.

"Excellent memory, Ollivander. I have it right here, in fact," Tom told Mr. Ollivander, indicating his cloak pocket.

"And whom do we have here," Mr. Ollivander asked her, now leaning over his counter top.

Holding out her hand politely to shake his much larger, heavily wrinkled hand, she said, "I'm Leola."

"Alesea Leola Williamson," Ollivander muttered in greeting. Leola's eyes grew large and her full lips formed an "o" of surprise, for how could he possibly know her full name. He had already begun taking her measurements with a magical tape measure by the time Tom chuckled and said, "I always did suspect you had seer blood in you, Ollivander."

In the end, Leola tried only three wands before one chose her. It was ten and a quarter inches long, but Ollivander assured her she would grow into it. And it was a deep cherry oak with a smooth handle and narrow tip; sturdy—good for transfiguration and defense, with a hippogriff feather core (a trait which Ollivander assured her meant her wand was very proud and loyal toward its owner).

After a long morning of shopping, Leola and Tom left Diagon alley, tired, but with smiles set firmly across their faces. Tom could not remember ever seeing Leola smile so much in the two years he had known the little girl. Leola could not wait to show her siblings all of her purchases. And she could not wait for September 1st.