Chapter 5 – School Supplies

Lydia, of course, had seen magical shops before, in Hogsmeade. This was different. The atmosphere of Diagon Alley was busier, and carried an electricity. There were more people here (brightly, and often strangely, dressed) and much more chatter. The alley itself was also narrower than the main street of Hogsmeade. That led to bustling and jostling, laughter and calling out, handshakes and hugs all around them. It felt more like a street market than a shopping centre. There were wafts of street food and the warm aroma of wooden items standing in the summer sunshine. Lydia found she was grinning, so caught up was she in the activity and ambience surrounding her.

"Is it usually this busy, Draco?" her uncle was asking.

"Not usually quite this much," Draco admitted. "But we're getting close to the start of the new year at Hogwarts. There will be a lot of families here stocking up on school supplies."

"Don't you have different money, Draco?" Lydia asked. "How are we going to buy anything?"

"Draco kindly changed some money for us a few days ago," Ambrose explained. "We shall be able to purchase all your scholastic needs."

Lydia looked sidelong at her uncle. "Where did the muggle money come from in the first place?"

"I had a little put aside," Ambrose smiled. "Long-term investments occasionally perform better than expected. And the longer one's term the better the compound interest."

Lydia was frowning.

"I have been around a long time, so I have gathered a lot of interest on my savings," he explained, with an indulgent smile.

"Do you have your Hogwarts letter with you, Lydia?" Draco asked. "We need your list of supplies."

Lydia dug around in her shoulder bag and pulled out the scroll of parchment. She handed it to the professor, who scanned it quickly.

He nodded. "But first of all, you'll need somewhere to put all your things. Follow me."

He strode off along the winding, cobbled street. Lydia had to hurry to keep up with him. Her uncle followed at his own pace.

They arrived outside a shop front, the window of which was a jumble of suitcases, knapsacks and chests. The sign above the window read:

Twoflower and Pearwood – Purveyors of Quality Wizarding Luggage

Draco turned to Lydia, then looked down the street. Lydia turned to follow his gaze. Uncle Ambrose was some distance behind them, looking into another shop window. He looked up to see the others and resumed sauntering towards them.

While they waited for him to catch up Draco turned to Lydia and smiled. "I wanted to buy you a present, Lydia, for saving our lives in the mine. I thought a good school trunk would be something that you would use a lot and always need. This shop does some particularly good ones."

Lydia blushed. "Oh, thank you, Draco. You really don't need to. I wouldn't have left you there or anything."

Draco laughed. "I know, but it's important to me. And the trunk I have in mind costs rather a lot. I'm not sure your uncle would be willing to spend so much on luggage."

The uncle in question arrived at that point and the three of them went into the shop.

"Good day. How may I help you?" the bright-faced shop assistant asked.

"Good afternoon," Draco smiled. "Do you have any Travelighter trunks in stock?"

The assistant's face brightened even more. "Ah. A connoisseur of fine luggage. Yes, sir. We have two, in different styles. If you would kindly follow me through to the viewing room."

The assistant clasped his hands together in front of his chest, elbows jutting out. He led them through a veritable maze of assorted luggage towards the back of the shop. Even though he was taller than Lydia he held his head up so proudly that she could see an egg-sized bald patch at the crown of his slick black hair. At the rear of the shop he led them up some highly-polished wooden stairs. At the top, he opened the door there and beckoned them through.

The room was a relief from the dimly-lit clutter of the shop below. There were large skylight windows, which angled over their heads. It reminded Lydia of an artist's loft she had once visited with her mother on holiday in Cornwall. The room was spacious and carpeted in a soft green. Atop a long pink baize-covered table were several articles of premium quality luggage. The assistant gestured towards two small trunks.

"The Travelighter Rome and the Travelighter Byzantium," he announced as he seemed to bow to the trunks.

Draco turned to Ambrose. "I wanted to buy Lydia something useful, everyday and lasting. As a 'thank you' for… well, the Throakley incident."

Ambrose nodded. "That's very kind of you, Draco. These look very fine. I merely wonder if they are practical for school use."

"Ah, sir," the assistant interrupted. "Your friend here has chosen the gift impeccably well. The Travelighter is the ideal trunk for all uses. Especially for someone who might conceivably struggle with a full-sized ordinary trunk. On the outside the Travelighter is small and light, however much one might place into it. On the inside it is spacious and organised… however much one might place into it! It is also extremely hardwearing and guaranteed for the lifetime of the owner."

"How much are they?" Lydia asked.

The assistant tilted his head and gave Lydia an almost pitying look.

"That doesn't matter. Lydia," Draco said. "It is a gift."

"Really, Draco? My dear fellow, are you sure?"

Draco grinned at them both. "Which would you like, Lydia?"

The 'Byzantium' model was ornate with red panels and golden metal edging and a large golden clasp. She thought it looked a bit gaudy and might attract attention. She placed a hand on the 'Rome', which was a deep blue with black metal edging and a silver-coloured clasp.

"Oh, a discerning choice, young lady," the assistant cooed. "The Rome is much more subtle and, I'm inclined to think, even more robust than the Byzantium. Please try it."

Lydia reached out to pick up the trunk with both hands. It weighed almost nothing. She noticed it was warmer than she had expected. It also seemed to move in her hands, not very much, not so that she could have seen it. There was a flex or a tremor that made it feel alive and responding to her fingertips.

"Try the handle," the assistant urged.

There was a handle at one end and as she grasped it the whole trunk extended down to the carpeted floor and two wheels emerged. The effect was like a normal holiday suitcase but the way it went about it was magical, helpful and somehow thoughtful. A grin spread across Lydia's face. It was like having new luggage and a pet, all in one.

"May I ask the young lady's name, so it can be added to the trunk?" the assistant inquired.

"Lydia Faye Ward," Lydia told him.

He withdrew his wand from his purple-lined robes, said Lydia's name and reached down to tap the lid of the trunk. The name appeared in silver on a black nameplate which had not previously been there.

The assistant led them back down the stairs and to the front of the shop. Ambrose led Lydia outside with her new trunk while Draco paid.

"I hate to think how much that may have cost Draco," Ambrose murmured. "But it does seem like a perfect gift."

"It feels like it's alive," Lydia whispered, then stroked the top of the trunk. "I think we're going to be friends."

"Always a good sign with luggage," Ambrose laughed.

Draco emerged from the shop blinking with the sudden sunlight, or possibly with the shock of payment.

"Not to worry, dear boy," said Ambrose, placing a calming hand on the professor's shoulder. "I shall pay from this point onwards."

They trawled around the rest of the shops for all the things Lydia needed. At Scrivenshaft's they bought quills, ink and scrolls of parchment from a lady with a nose so pointed Lydia thought she would never have needed a quill. At Madame Malkin's Robes for all Occasions they bought three sets of work robes and a thick winter cloak. There was an apothecary called Dogweed and Deathcap, which Lydia remembered from their branch in Hogsmeade. She bought a pair of dragon hide gloves for use in Potions and Herbology lessons. At Flourish and Blott's she found all the set books she needed for her various lessons. She also helped one of the shop staff pick up a stack of books a toddler had inadvertently pushed over. The shop assistant thanked her but told her it was not necessary. With a sweep of her wand, the assistant stacked all the books again in a moment. Lydia was looking forward to getting her wand after that. Everything she bought fitted easily into the trunk and promptly disappeared. Draco told her that all she needed to do was to ask the trunk for whatever she needed and it would appear to hand.

Finally, Draco uttered the words Lydia had been longing for.

"There's only your wand to get, now, and a pewter cauldron on the way to Fortescue's. Ollivander's next."

"And this is Ollivander's," said Draco. "The best wand shop in Europe and, many would say, the world."

They stepped up to the door and Draco opened it. A bell tinkled, not on the back of the door but deep inside the shop. It was dusky and dusty inside. Light slanted in through a small window high up. The beam of sunshine appeared almost solid, like a shining girder propped haphazardly across the room. Its foot rested on the wooden floor, worn to a high polish by years of use, its head at the panes of glass above. Along its length it sparkled with wandering specks of dust, defining its shape and giving it a hint of substance. If anything, the sunlight made the rest of the room darker still.

As her eyes began to become accustomed Lydia could see the shop was cramped. There was just room in front of the counter for a few people to stand, and for one to sit on a wooden spindled chair. On the other side of the counter, nearly the whole wall was covered in wooden racks like pigeon holes. Each pigeon hole was crammed with narrow wooden or cardboard boxes. The holes even carried on over the door to the left of the wall.

"Gosh," Draco observed. "It has changed since I came here as a student. Young Mr Ollivander runs it now, of course. Mr Gerard Ollivander, I should say. Old Mr Garrick Ollivander, who ran it before, retired after the war."

"He still works in the workshop, from time to time," said a pale, silver-haired man who came shuffling through the door behind the counter.

His long hair looked dry and the ends floated as he moved. He had a wisp of beard dangling from his chin. The features of his face were angular and his skin seemed paper-thin. His body was slight, but straight and upright and his grey robes hung from his shoulders, barely touching him elsewhere. He did not look young and Lydia immediately began to wonder what Old Mr Ollivander must look like.

"Hello gentlemen, young lady. I am Young Mr Ollivander," he chuckled. "'Young' is a relative term. My Uncle Garrick is my father's elder brother."

The wand seller looked directly at Lydia. She thought he looked like a bird, possibly an ostrich.

"You would be Miss Lydia," he observed with a good-natured smile. "We have been expecting you. Oh, no need to look surprised. Minerva McGonagall visits my uncle occasionally. She mentioned you were coming and discussed some special requirements with Uncle Garrick. If you would be willing to stay here with Professor Malfoy, my uncle would be honoured to speak with you, Mr Ward."

"With me?" Ambrose queried. "Good gracious."

Ollivander raised the hatch in the counter and opened the door behind it for Ambrose.

"If you would step this way," Ollivander said. "I will show you to my uncle." He turned to the others and bowed slightly, it may even have been a curtsey, the movement was too subtle to distinguish, "I shall be back momentarily."

"Well, that's odd," Draco confided to Lydia as the door closed behind the shopkeeper.

"Uncle Ambrose did tell me he has been talking to Professor McGonagall," she admitted. "They might even have gone dancing."

Draco looked at her, an eyebrow raised and his eyes wide with what Lydia decided must be horror.

"Please don't tell anyone at school," she implored.

"I have already bleached it from my mind," he assured her.

Young Mr Ollivander returned through the door.

"I was telling Lydia the shop has changed since I was a student," Draco said.

"Yes," the shopkeeper smiled. "After lengthy discussions Uncle Garrick allowed me to tidy up the stock and put up the shelving. He made me replace all the dust exactly as I found it, though."

"I jest," he assured Lydia, seeing her frown.

Ambrose came through the door with a wooden box in his hands. He put it on the counter in front of Lydia and stepped through the hatch to her side. Young Ollivander placed himself behind the box on the far side of the counter. He fiddled with the pocket watch in the fob pocket of his gaily coloured waistcoat. Lydia thought he looked nervous.

"Please open the box and take out the wand with your dominant hand," said Ollivander with a dry cough.

Feeling apprehensive Lydia opened the dark, deeply carved wooden box. It was lined with blue silk inside, on which lay a simple, yet elegant wand of light wood. The grain of the wood swirled with patterns. There was a single black character on it which meant nothing to her. She assumed it was a maker's mark. She reached into the box with her right hand and put her fingers around the thicker end of the wand. It had a living quality to the way it felt, much like her trunk had.

"Good signs so far," Ollivander whispered. "Hold it up. Slowly, slowly. Now gently point it in the direction of the end wall to your right. That's it. Good. Now, very gently, give it a little shake."

She did so. A cloud of sparks burst from the wand tip. The sparks were of every colour of the rainbow. They swirled in the air forming a sparkling cloud which looked like crystals of snow on a sunny day. Lydia stood transfixed as she watched the swirling of the cloud. Shapes seemed to come and go as she stared. There was a unicorn, a tree, a castle that might have been Hogwarts, a forest, a cat. But beyond the cloud of sparks, she felt, rather than saw, a grey presence. No matter how the cloud swirled it was always just out of sight.

"Point your wand tip down towards the floor," Ollivander hissed. "Slowly."

She did as he asked and the cloud faded away. With a surge of panic Lydia feared the grey presence would be revealed. It had gone.

She looked at Ollivander. He was smiling and nodding.

"Amazing, amazing," he was saying. "That wand has bonded perfectly with you. It will be loyal… and powerful. Eight and a quarter inches, olive wood with a core of braided demiguise and thestral hair. If you had the power that wand could move mountains and never fail. Absolutely amazing. Some of my uncle's finest work. Amazing."

"Was that good?" Lydia wondered.

Draco was grinning and nodding. "Most people get a little spurt of sparks, all the same colour. I… wouldn't even know how to do what you just did, myself."

"I have never known my uncle use olive wood before, now that I think about it." Ollivander sounded as though he were thinking out loud. "The first wands ever were supposed to have been olive wood. Common around the Mediterranean and the Middle East, I suppose. Demiguise? Demiguise would be associated with foresight, seeing beyond the normal. But thestral. Ah. Thestral. Life and death. Yes, life and death. I wonder..."

"Are you all right, Mr Ollivander?" Ambrose inquired.

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Very good. Yes, I'm fine, thank you. Uncle Garrick said not to charge you for the wand. It will help people who have helped him, apparently. Not sure what he means by that, but yes. Please, Miss Ward, accept this wand with our compliments."

"Thank you, Mr Ollivander," Lydia was put out by his words but was not about to forget her manners.

Her uncle and the professor also thanked him and they made to leave the shop.

"Only a cauldron to get you, now," Draco was saying as Ollivander called out to Lydia.

"Miss Ward. Thank you. Thank you for everything," the shopkeeper said solemnly.

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