CHAPTER SEVEN

DIAGON ALLEY

Eleven-year old Sam Winchester stepped out of the dim, smoke-filled interior of the Leaky Cauldron and into the sunlight and noise of Diagon Alley.

"Where do you want to go first?" Ronald Weasley asked from behind him.

"I want to pick up our books," Sam told his friend, earning him an exasperated look from the red-haired boy.

"I was thinking of Quality Quidditch Supplies," Ron told him.

"Why?" Sam asked, "First years aren't allowed on the teams."

"I just want to-" Ron began but his mother's voice rang out loudly over the chatter of the crowd around them.

"We need to go to Gringotts first of all," Molly told the assembled Weasley and Winchester children, "And then we will get your school supplies."

John Winchester, who was standing with Mr and Mrs Weasley, addressed his eldest son, "Dean, I expect you to watch out for your brother. No wandering off with Fred and George."

The fifteen-year old promised he would keep an eye on his sibling, but from behind his back he held one hand with fingers crossed. He and the twins had been talking of nothing but the joke shop, Gambol and Japes, for weeks when they found out they'd be doing their back-to-school shopping together.

Percy, however, looked more than happy to take on the responsibility of watching his younger brother, sister and Sam Winchester.

"Don't worry Mother," Percy said importantly, "We will all stay here until you return from the bank."

Molly smiled, "Thank you, Percy."

Ron rolled his eyes and Ginny giggled, holding a hand over her mouth.

As soon as the adults were out of sight, two sets of friends disappeared into the hustle and bustle of the street. It was only a week before the start of term so Diagon Alley was much more crowded than it had been when the Winchesters had gone to get Dean's school things.

Although Sam had received his letter to Hogwarts back in May, he had decided to wait to buy the required school supplies until the Weasleys went.

Ron, Ginny and Sam pushed their way through the throngs of witches and wizards to get to Quality Quidditch Supplies.

A large gaggle of children and adults alike seemed to have become entranced by something in the window of the shop, muttering curiously and happily to one another, reluctant to move on and complete their shopping.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked, standing on the tips of her toes to try and see past the sea of heads, "What is it?"

Sam, small for his age, was able to squeeze between the onlookers and get close enough to the window to see what everyone was staring at.

A broomstick. Perched prominently behind the glass and illuminated with numerous candles.

The boy, who was not a follower of Quidditch or anything associated with the sport, frowned, wondering why everyone looked awestruck at the sight of the broom. Sam thought it looked very similar to his hand-me-down Shooting Star that had once been Dean's.

"A Nimbus Two-Thousand," Ron breathed in Sam's ear, making him jump, "Oh I wish I had enough gold to buy it."

"What's so special about it?" Sam asked.

Ron looked as though he'd just said something blasphemous.

"It's only the best broom on the market!" the red-haired boy exclaimed.

Sam shrugged, his interest already waning.

"Ron, Sam," Ginny's voice squeaked from the crowd, "Come on, I think Mum and Dad are finished at Gringotts."

Pushing their way back through the crowd, the boys saw their parents, looking very irritated. Mrs Weasley appeared to be having strong words with Percy, who was looking very embarrassed.

"There you are!" Molly broke off scolding Percy to turn her keen brown eyes on her youngest son and daughter.

"Where's Dean?" John asked Sam.

The eleven-year old shrugged, "Probably at the joke shop."

His father frowned, his gaze falling on Sam as though he expected him to spontaneously combust.

The eleven-year old know what his father was worried about. He was concerned he'd have another trance again, like he had the time when they'd gone to get Dean's supplies. Although these episodes were few and far between, they still continued, even in the company of the Weasleys. Sam didn't know how much his Dad had told Mr and Mrs Weasley about his trances, but if he had one when he was visiting, the witch and wizard made sure he was safe until it passed. The first time it had happened in front of Ron and Ginny, they had been understandably scared- Sam refused to respond to them and actively tried to get away from his friends- but now they were used to it. Sam's trances were as much a part of their friend as his love of reading or his hazel eyes were.

"Hey Dad!" As though called by an inaudible signal, Dean bounded up to the group, Fred and George hot on his heels, stuffing what looked curiously like Dung Bombs and No-Heat Fireworks into his pockets.

The expression on John's face made his eldest stop short.

"Come on, Dad," Dean grumbled, "Sam's fine, he's with Ginny and Ron."

"That's not the point," John began but decided he'd rather not start an argument in the middle of the street.

"Let's just get your school things."

W

They visited the Apothecary first. A cramped, dark, foul smelling shop selling ingredients for potions such as newt eyes, bat wool, pickled slugs and powdered jackalope horns.

Sam and Ron purchased the basic ingredients they would need to start the year off while George, Fred, Dean and Percy replenished their stocks.

Next, they stopped off at Amanuensis Quills for writing supplies. This shop was right beside Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions but neither the Weasleys entered; both Ron and Sam were getting hand-me-downs.

Before heading to Flourish and Blotts, Sam spotted Ollivander's.

"Can we get my wand now, Dad?" the eleven-year-old asked hopefully.

John looked at the Weasleys.

"We'll meet you at the bookstore," Mr Weasley told the Winchesters.

Ron would not be getting a new wand to start the year off; he had his older brother Charlie's wand.

"See you later," Sam said goodbye to Ron and Ginny as they headed towards the wand shop.

It was just as Sam recalled, dusty, dark and cramped, much of the space taken up by shelves upon shelves of long, thin wand boxes.

His father and brother hung back close to the entrance while the eleven-year-old stepped up to the tall desk and waited, knowing the proprietor would be along shortly.

"Samuel Winchester," a slightly raspy voice announced from within the stacks of wands.

"Yes," Sam squeaked a reply, suddenly very nervous. He turned to look at his brother and father. John smiled while Dean gave him the thumbs-up.

Mr Ollivander appeared from between two shelves, looking exactly as he had the day Dean had bought his wand.

"Finally showed some magic, did you?" the elderly wizard asked not unkindly and Sam gave a queasy smile, wondering just how he knew he'd taken a long time to do anything magical.

"Hm, all's well," Mr Ollivander spoke, sounding as though he were talking to himself, rather than Sam, "Let's get your wand."

Sam waited eagerly as the wizard disappeared between the stacks of wands again. Moments later, he reappeared, carrying a box reverently in his hands.

"Try this one," he opened the box and pulled out the reddish wand inside, "Alder, unicorn hair, ten inches, unyielding."

Sam took the wand from Mr Ollivander and waved it as Dean had told him he should before entering the shop. The boxes of wands closest to the desk all clattered to the floor, a cloud of dust rising in their wake.

Embarrassed, Sam quickly set the wand down on the desk.

"Hm, perhaps a different one," the wizard muttered and strode off to find something else.

"Here!" Mr Ollivander announced, "Black walnut, dragon heartstring, thirteen inches."

Again Sam waved the wand and instantly thick, green smoke poured from the end, bringing tears to the boy's eyes and making him cough.

"Not that one either," Mr Ollivander took the wand from Sam's hand and put it back in its box, "Let me see…"

Sam's heart was beginning to beat nervously. What if there was no wand suited to him? He'd be a laughingstock if he went to school without a wand!

Again, he turned to his father and brother but of course, they couldn't help.

Taking a deep breath, Sam told himself that the next wand Ollivander gave him would be his.

"Fir, phoenix feather, eight inches, quite resilient," the old wizard shoved another wand into Sam's sweaty hands.

Confidently, the boy waved the wand… and turned Mr Ollivander's white hair a bright cotton-candy pink.

"I don't think so," the wizard told him and Sam sadly set the wand aside.

"Never fear," he told the boy, "There is a wand for you here, we just need to find it."

Again, Mr Ollivander vanished between the shelves of wands, heading now to what appeared to be the very back of the shop.

"Wow Sammy," Dean had stepped forward, "Even he didn't have as hard a time finding me a wand."

"Dean," their father said sternly, "Leave him alone."

Mr Ollivander was gone for a long time, nearly ten minutes when Sam wondered if he'd just given up on him. When he was about to say so to his father and brother, the elderly wizard stepped forward, holding a very dusty, very old looking box.

"Try this one," he suggested, his tone somewhat more reserved than before.

Sam took the offered box and opened it. Inside was a fairly short, thin wand made of a pale yellow wood. Curiously, the boy wrapped one hand around the end and gasped at the warmth that seemed to come from within the wand, spreading through his fingers and palm.

Eyes wide, Sam looked up at Mr Ollivander.

"Is it-" he began but the elderly wizard interrupted him.

"It seems you have found your wand," he told the boy, smiling thinly.

"What's it made of?" Dean asked, coming to stand by his brother to admire his new wand.

"Reed, seven inches long," Mr Ollivander began, "With the tail hair from a Threstral."

"What's a-" Sam tried again but the old wizard plucked the wand from his hand and placed it back in its box, wrapping it with tissue paper.

John paid for the wand and then handed it over to Sam. The eleven-year-old clutched the box to his chest as they left the store, keenly aware of Mr Ollivander's eyes on his back as they stepped outside.

"Let's get your books and then stop for some lunch," John suggested.

Dean and Sam followed their father as he wound his way through the crowded street towards the bookshop.

"There you are!" Molly Weasley called out, waving a hand in the air once she had spotted the Winchesters, "We'd thought you'd forgotten to meet with us."

John shook his head; "It took a while for us to get Sam's wand."

"Was it busy in Ollivander's?" Arthur asked, "It's usually quiet."

"Sam took forever to get a wand!" Dean announced, "Like, fifteen minutes!"

Sam lowered his head.

"Can I see it?" Ron asked, at Sam's side.

"Sure," the other boy replied, brightening up and carefully unwrapped the box.

"Wow," Ron admired the slim, shiny wand, "Cool. What's it made of?"

Ginny came over as well to look at Sam's new wand.

"Reed," Sam told him, "And hair from a…um…"

"Threstral," Dean supplied, loudly enough for the adults to hear.

Both Mr and Mrs Weasley looked at John.

"What's a Threstral?" Ron asked, "Dad?"

"Let's get your books," Mrs Weasley interrupted, "It's getting late."

"Sam, put that away for now," John instructed and Sam carefully wrapped the box back up as they stepped into Flourish and Blotts.

W

The Winchester and Weasley families discussed the upcoming school year over piping hot bowls of steak and kidney pie.

Fred, George and Dean, who were all on the Gryffindor Quidditch team, discussed tactics for winning the Quidditch Cup.

"What House do you think you'll get into?" Sam asked Ron.

His friend smiled through a mouthful of pie, "Gryffindor of course."

Sam nodded. It was pretty obvious Ron would be sorted into Gryffindor. All his brothers had been before him.

"What about you? What House do you think you'll go into?" Ginny asked from across the table.

Sam, who had had a lot of time to think on this, answered, "Ravenclaw."

"You do like books an awful lot," Ron admitted.

Sam chuckled.

Further down the table, their parents were talking in quiet, conspiratorial tones and Sam had the feeling they were talking about him, or, more likely his wand.

Peering at the paper-wrapped box sitting beside on the table, Sam set a hand on it as though to keep anyone from snatching it away.

SPN

Dean patted his stomach dramatically as the families headed once again to the Leaky Cauldron, this time to head home. After lunch, the children had convinced their parents to buy ice creams from Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour and now everyone was nearly bursting with food.

He was excited that his little brother would be joining him at Hogwarts in just about a week's time. He knew Sam was so incredibly happy that his sibling was a wizard. As much as Dean loved their father and respected him, despite him being a Squib, he knew it would have devastated Sam if he'd failed to show any magical ability.

"All right you lot," Mr Weasley called as they approached his blue Ford Anglia, which they had driven into London for Mr Winchester's sake even though Floo Powder would have been faster and more convenient.

"Everyone in," he announced, "We have a bit of a drive before we reach home."

Fred, George, Dean, Sam, Ron, Ginny and Percy all clambered into the car's spacious backseat, while the adults sat side-by-side up front.

Dean smiled as the car rumbled to life and Mr Weasley carefully pulled out of their parking spot, this time next week they'd be at Hogwarts.

Author's Note:

Thanks to IchigoMoonCutter, Mama's Stories, SPN Mum, and Sallyannerenee for reviewing.

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