Chapter 3 - Diagon Alley
Hazel woke up to Hagrid gruffly shaking her awake. Her whole arm seemed to fit in his hand, and she could feel her body leaving the seat every time he shook her. Her head ached where it had evidently hit the seat, and she couldn't feel her fingers.
"Hagrid," she moaned to him. "Please let go of my arm. I'm awake now." He nodded and dropped her arm. She rubbed it and began wiggling her fingers.
"We're 'ere." Hagrid said. Together they disembarked from the underground and Hazel had to rub her eyes as they reached the sunlight. They were walking along an old road, and the buildings lining it sold clothing, shoes, pencils and pens, even pet Gila Monsters, but not one shop looked as if it could sell you a magic wand.
They walked farther along the road and they stopped in front of a dingy old building. There were peeling golden letters on the front of the building that read "EAKY CAULDRO".
The Leaky Cauldron, as Hagrid had called it, was a small pub. If Hagrid hadn't stopped and pointed the building out, Hazel wouldn't have even noticed it among all of the glossy new-looking buildings of London. All of the people hurrying up and down the busy street didn't even notice it. The people jostling around the street behind them didn't seem to even notice the building in front of them, it was as if they couldn't even see it, and the prickling sensation on the back of her neck didn't help.
"This is a famous pub for all o' the witches and wizards of the world." Hagrid told her as she shoved her inside.
For a famous place it was rather dark and shabby looking. A few ladies were sitting in the corner gossiping, but for ladies they were the ugliest ladies that Hazel had ever seen. A few men were crowded around a billiards table smoking long pipes and laughing loudly. There were some things that looked like mutant goblins sitting around the smallest table drinking beer and pounding the table with their fists. A little man with a top hat was talking to the bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter and laughter seemed to quiet down a bit and everyone seemed to know Hagrid. A few people smiled and waved, and the bartender reached for a glass and said, "The usual, Hagrid?"
"Not this time, Tom. Hogwarts business." Hagrid beamed down delightedly at Hazel and she nervously flattened down her bangs. These people, no matter where she was, seemed to know things about her that she didn't and she wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that she had her scar.
She also noticed that people were looking at her eyes as though there was something odd about them. Quickly she pulled out a pair of sunglasses that she always kept in her pocket and put them on instead of her regular glasses. Nobody could see her eyes now.
The bartender seemed to take a few looks before asking her name. It was as though people there were recognizing her.
"And what is her name?" Tom finally asked, peeling his eyes away from her.
"Hazel." She replied instantly. "Hazel Jones." She added remembering what Dumbledore had said.
"Ah. I don' believe there has been a Jones here for a long time. Great wizarding family of the 1800's."
"Er.I don't think I am related to THAT branch of the Joneses, I grew up. out of touch with magic." Hazel delicately said. Tom nodded.
"Alrigh', well, Hagrid, good luck." Hagrid nodded and the next thing Hazel knew, she was being drug to the back door of the Leaky Cauldron. As they came out Hazel noticed that there was a solid-looking brick wall.
"Hagrid? How're we going to go through a wall?"
"We will, believe me. It's not what is just seems like." Hagrid said mischievously.
"You jus' watch while I open th' door."
Hazel stood and waited for him to do something. As Hagrid pulled out a pink umbrella a witch from inside the Leaky Cauldron came out and tripped over a can that seemed to be on the ground. She scattered all of her - whatever she was holding that looked strangely like bones - and knocked into Hazel. Hazel fell over and by the time she had gotten herself up the gateway that had been made in the wall was slowly closing.
"Oh no." Hazel said to herself as she ran towards the hole that was still shrinking. She jumped through the hold and hit something rather solid. She turned around, expecting to see the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron, but instead met another solid panel of brick.
She was stuck in the barrier that was between Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Hazel's fist began to throb from hitting the wall so many times. She was desperate to get out. Being stuck in a wall for days wasn't her idea of fun. Besides, Hagrid must have been worried about her, right?
"HELP!" Hazel screamed into the wall. Her voice was returned to her in an eerie echo. It was getting rather uncomfortable to be in there and she couldn't sit down. It was barely wide enough for her to stand in.
Suddenly the bricks began rumbling and she heard some of them moving. Was someone trying to get through? Maybe that would mean that she could get out. If somebody opened the wall, then she would just fall out and be on her way, right? That was the way she got in.
She felt someone pass through her and she thought she was going to be broken. It was like she was being ripped into pieces or like millions of tiny needles were being driven through her. It was the feeling that she was being run through a screen and she was broken up into pieces to fit through the gaps in the screen. The pain was so intense that Hazel wanted to scream; only she couldn't. Her voice was caught in her throat.
Hazel emerged through the brick wall, or at least she thought she had. She took a look at her hands and gasped. She was partly there, but her hands and the rest of her, were transparent. She tried to touch something, and watched her hand pass through it. It was as though she was a ghost.
"Oh no." She said. At first, Hazel thought she was a ghost. She heard her voice, but it was crackly and it seemed to be coming from far away. As she walked away from the brick wall where she had been stuck, she saw her hands flicker. She continued to take steps away from the wall and she flickered more and more frequently.
Finally, when she came to about thirty paces away from the wall, she disappeared from view completely. Hazel knew that she had to get back to the wall. She could sense that all of her feelings were slowly siphoning out of her body and her mind was emptying. It was as though her soul was being sucked out of her. Hazel blindly plundered towards the wall again and she felt herself flicker. She finally came back into view and she let out a sigh of relief.
"Okay." Hazel said to herself. "I can't go more that ten feet from the wall, my body's stuck in the middle of a magical portal thing, and I don't know where Hagrid is." Hazel sighed. "Great situation to be stuck in Hazel."
Hazel's spirit, as she became accustomed to calling the being she was now, was pacing about ten feet from the wall, wondering what the heck she was going to do. There was nobody within about 1,000 feet of her, so she couldn't go and talk to someone unless she wanted to take the risk of disappearing forever. Hazel was quite sure she didn't want to disappear forever, so she stayed where she was.
Minutes seemed like hours and hours seemed like days. It seemed that Hagrid hadn't even noticed that she was missing. Hazel was almost worried that something had happened to him when she thought of something. All of the professors and teachers and even Dumbledore had been a little distant with her, like they were keeping secrets from her. Maybe they had planned to leave here, stranded, and stuck in a magical portal for eternity.
Hazel briefly wondered whether she could live forever if she wasn't really in her body when she flickered. The pain was returning. It was the same pain that she had experienced when she was being sucked out of the wall, but now she recognized that she was being almost magnetically attracted to the wall once more. Her feet began taking steps towards the wall without her actually wanting her feet to do anything.
The now becoming familiar feeling of a million needles being pierced through her whole body took over all of her thoughts. Hazel closed her eyes and hoped that she wasn't either dying or going insane. Both weren't really good choices.
The pain suddenly ended and she realized that she was, once again, stuck in the wall that separated the magical world from the non-magical world. Hazel heard muffled voices and she heard someone tapping on the bricks.
"Not again!" Hazel said as she went as far to one side as she could. The brick wall began to open and she saw people standing diagonally from her. There were three people. One had silvery-blonde hair and a drawling voice. The second and third were easily twice as large as the first. One had a pudding bowl hair cut and the other had short, buzz cut-like hair.
As the three went through the wall another group of people were coming through - a man with the same silvery-blonde hair and a woman with dark brown hair. The woman was wearing an expression that made Hazel think of her neighbor's pet pugs.
That family and the other people that were with them looked almost scary as the wax figures at museums, and Hazel made a mental note NOT to associate with scary, wax-look-alike people.
Hazel watched the people go sadly. She was still stuck in a wall and now she was sure that if she wasn't helped out that she would die of hunger because at that precise moment her stomach growled.
She stood up and continued banging on the wall. Maybe nobody could hear her, but at least it made her feel like she was doing something.
"Hazel. Hazel. Where are yeh?"
"HAGRID!" Hazel yelled. She had heard Hagrid's voice, she was sure of it. "HAGRID I'M NOT MISSING! I'M STUCK IN THE WALL!" Hazel continued to yell as she banged her fist as hard as she could on the brick barrier.
"Hazel?" Came the muffled reply.
"YES, HAGRID, IT'S HAZEL. I'M STUCK IN THE BRICK WALL!"
"How'd yeh get in there?" he asked. "Why'd yeh get in there?"
"IT'S A LONG STORY HAGRID."
Hazel was waiting to be rescued when a large, trash can lid sized hand appeared in the wall. She felt the hand grab the back of her shirt and she was being lifted. She started to go through the brick and she felt a spinning feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was thrown into a flash of light.
Blinking, Hazel stood up. She saw a woman with fiery red hair and the same emerald eyes as she herself had. The woman was holding hands with a man with black hair that was easily as unruly as hers and his glasses were uncannily like hers. The pair of them looked delighted and nervous at the same time.
"Sorry." Hazel said. Nobody in the scene before her eyes moves.
"SORRY!" Hazel almost screamed. Nobody even blinked.
The two were met by three other people, a tired-looking man with golden hair that was streaked with grey, another man, but this one with dark hair and a set jaw and he was good-looking even to Hazel who hated boys, and a third man who was square-ish and shorter than all of the four people around him.
"Well," said the man that had the same hair, glasses, and probably many other things, as Hazel. "Lily and I have some news for you all." Hazel stared at the man, knowing that he couldn't see her. Had he said Lily? Wasn't that her middle name? Was it just a coincidence?
"Well?!" the second man asked. He looked impatient and the blonde haired man was smacking him on the arm as though to tell him to shut up.
Lily and the man she was holding hands with laughed.
"We're going to have a baby." The man said.
"You're joking, right?"
"No, Sirius, I'm serious." The whole group of people laughed.
"Congratulations James, Lily." Said the blonde-grey haired man.
"Thanks, Remus. But, there's more news."
"MORE?! JAMES POTTER, ARE YOU TELLING ME THE TRUTH?" Sirius said loudly.
"Yes," James said. He turned to Lily and smiled.
"We're having twins. A boy and a girl." Lily said.
The three men standing before them all stood, with their mouths hanging open, looking from Lily, to James, and back again.
Hazel felt herself being pulled back to the right time period of her life. The last thing she heard was,
"What are you going to name them?"
"Harry and Hazel."
Hazel slowly became aware that she was staring into the eyes of a large man with a very messy beard and long hair.
"Hagrid?" Hazel whispered.
"Yea 'S me, Hazel. Are yeh alrigh'?"
"Yes. . ." Hazel said. "Yes, I think so."
"Okay, so, what's yer list say to get first?" Hagrid asked Hazel. Her stomach growled.
"Some food." Hazel said at once. Hagrid smiled -or, that's what Hazel thought he did, she couldn't be sure.
"Now, what's yer list say to get first?"
Hazel reached in all of her pockets looking for a list, but she couldn't find anything anywhere.
"Yeh lost it, didn' ya?" Hagrid said.
Hazel smiled shyly at him. Would he be mad and did he know what she was supposed to bring to school? What if she had to go to Hogwarts without any of the supplies that she needed? Or even worse - What if she showed up with nothing and was taken home because she didn't have the things she needed?
"H-Hagrid?" Hazel said, as she silently was dreading the answer.
"Yea?" Hagrid said.
"What will they do to me if, well, if I don't have my stuff?" What would they do?
"Oh, don' worry 'bout tha'. I know more o' the things yeh'll be needin'."
"R-really? You mean I can go to Hogwarts?" Hazel said.
"Why wouldn't yeh?"
"I don't know, Hagrid. I don't know."
"Where do yeh want to go firs'?" Hagrid asked.
Where did she want to go first? Maybe she wanted to get her wand, or maybe she wanted to go look at the shop that seemed to have every kind of pet imaginable, or maybe she wanted to look at the broomsticks that were on display. She didn't know.
Hazel stood there, in the middle of the road, and she just turned in a few circles taking in all of the shops that were surrounding her.
"There's so many to choose from." Hazel said obviously. Hagrid gave her a knowing look and nodded. Hazel stood and thought for what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a few seconds.
"How about, we - we get my wand?" Hagrid nodded.
"Good choice." Together they walked to the shop that evidently sold wands. The lettering on the building was obviously as old, if not older, than the lettering on the Leaky Cauldron, but was sparkling like new. The name of the shop was Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C. There were dozens of wands in cases being shown in the window and they all were delicately placed on beautiful, velvet cushions.
As Hazel pushed open the door a clear and loud bell rang from somewhere in the shop. Hazel busied herself by looking at all of the wands that were placed in the cases. There was a label that said, "new arrivals" in a scrawly and a certain wand caught her eye. It looked the same as the others, yet quite different. Hazel wasn't sure what it was, but it DID look somewhat different. It wasn't the color or the shape or the size or the -
"And who have we here?" Said a quiet voice behind her. Hazel whipped around and almost fell in the process. Where was Hagrid?
"Um, hi?" Hazel said pitifully.
"What's your name Milady?"
"Hazel - Hazel Jones."
"Alright miss Jones, well, are you here for your first wand or is this a second or perhaps third wand? Why just the other day I had a customer in for his twenty-third wand. . ." Mr. Ollivander continued in vain for quite some time, which gave Hazel more time to examine the shop around her. It was rather dusty and dingy. There were shelves upon shelves of wands and there was a large pile of ripped up papers at the back of the store.
Hazel, finally bored of looking at the shop and listening to Mr. Ollivander talk, cleared her throat loudly.
"Right, right, sorry." Mr. Ollivander said, and he almost sounded embarrassed. "So, have you any idea what your wand hand is?"
Hazel blinked. "My what?"
"Your wand hand, the hand that you use to write and cast spells."
"Oh," Hazel said, trying to pretend that she had merely pushed the matter out of her mind instead of the truth that she was actually clueless. "I suppose it's my right hand." Mr. Ollivander nodded and began rummaging through the many boxes on the many shelves.
Mr. Ollivander took out a tape measure and merely set it in mid-air and began rummaging again. It bothered Hazel a little bit that the tape measure was writing and measuring on it's own.
"Ah!" He said suddenly and with such emphasis that Hazel, once again, jumped.
"Try this one, Ms. Jones." Mr. Ollivander said. "Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Hazel accepted the wand and waved the wand around. Suddenly a loud banging noise met Hazel's ears and she saw that one of the enormous shelves was falling. Hazel's eyes widened and she threw her hand in a complicated gesture and the shelf froze exactly where it was. Mr. Ollivander took a good look at her and shook his head, muttering to himself.
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy if you ask me. Try this one-" But right as Hazel rose the wand she noticed that a file cabinet was starting to fly open and she quickly handed the wand back to him.
"No, not that one." Mr. Ollivander agreed.
"You're a tricky customer. Well, might as well . . . is there a wand that you are interested in? Anything you want to try?" Hazel thought for a minute. Did she want to try that wand she had been admiring in the window case?
"Can - can I try that one?" she asked as she pointed to the wand in the case. Mr. Ollivander gave her a peculiar look.
"What?" she said abruptly then her hand flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry, that was rude, wasn't it?" It was more of a statement that a question. Mr. Ollivander seemed to be, however, in his own little word as he was looking at the wand with a look of great confusion on his face. He slowly slid it out of the case as though it were going to explode. He, even slower, handed her the wand.
"If you want to keep the wand-" Hazel began, but he cut her off at once.
"This wand shouldn't exist." He whipped and looked at Hazel for a long timed. Hazel looked directly into his eyes and wished that he would blink.
"You're surname isn't Jones, is it?" Mr. Ollivander demanded.
"Yes sir, my surname IS Jones." Hazel lied. She hoped that she was convincing. Mr. Ollivander looked once more at the wand that was in his hand and suddenly he dropped the wand, as though it were a hot wire. The wand fell to the ground with a clatter.
"What?!" Hazel said. "What's wrong with the wand?" Mr. Ollivander wearily walked over to a spinning chair that was near the wall in the shop. He sat down and tried to stop his hand from shaking.
"Ms. Jones, I remember every single wand I've sold. Every single wand. It just happens to be that I DO NOT remember ever purchasing this wand's core and the phoenix whose tail feather resides in that wand-" he pointed at the wand. "Has only given two feathers, and I have sold BOTH of those wands."
"Well, with all due respect and whatever, I don't think that any human being could actually remember all of these wands, I mean LOOK at all of them. There are thousands. How can somebody be expected to remember each one? I bet no one can name how many you've sold and - "
"I've sold 32,347 wands, 43.56% of them were sold before the year 1500 - "
"How old ARE you?" Hazel suddenly burst out.
"My dear, if I knew, I would most certainly tell you. I am but a servant, bound to serve for all eternity. I am not a person, merely a free spirit that is solid."
"Oh." Hazel bent down to pick up the wand.
"Thirteen and a half inches. Yes. Phoenix tail feather. If you feel you must, you may wave it." Hazel eyed the wand suspiciously. She hadn't been having much luck with wands, and she had no doubt that something bad would happen with this one too.
Hazel raised the wand a few inches and flicked it with a nice wrist movement. A shower of orange sparks flew forth from the wand and Mr. Ollivander, if possible, looked even more shocked.
"How much?" Hazel asked.
"Nothing. Just - just go." He said. Mr. Ollivander was breathing heavily and he looked quite shocked. If he hadn't told Hazel that he wasn't human she would think that he was having a heart attack.
"But, shouldn't I pay for this. I mean, this can't be cheap to make and if you give this to me for free the, well, ya'know. . ." Hazel trailed off hopeful that Mr. Ollivander would know because she certainly didn't know.
"Just take the wand and go Miss Jones." He said once more.
"But I can't take it without paying for it. That's stealing." Hazel persisted. She wasn't going to take the wand. It must have been at least 50 galleons and she didn't want to get in trouble later for stealing a wand.
"Take the wand." Mr. Ollivander whispered in a deathly scary whisper.
"A-alright." Hazel stammered as she walked out of the shop with a startled expression on her face. That was the weirdest shop she had ever been in.
"Hazel!" Said Hagrid as he met up with her. "I wrote down all of the stuff yeh'll be needin'." Hagrid handed her a list and she read it. There were about a million things that she still needed to get and she only had a few hours.
"How do I pay for all this?" Hazel asked. Hagrid grinned and shoved a large bag that was full of money at her. "'Ere."
"Um . . . thanks."
Hazel looked over the list. The last things she needed were her books. They were the only things that Hagrid hadn't written down for her. Shrugging, Hazel strode into the bookshop.
There were books on the shelves that were crying and there were books that were eating other books. Hazel couldn't believe the amount of books the shop held. From the outside you'd never realize that there were so many shelves and shelves and even people in the shop. Hazel had to remind herself that she was in a magical bookshop and many, many things can happen when the shop is a magical one.
Hazel was about to go ask the shopkeeper where they kept, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, when she was shoved over by two boys that were arguing about something and they continued arguing all the way out the door. Hazel didn't really see them, but all she noticed was that one of them had very red hair. Hazel sighed because her regular glasses as well as her sunglasses were broken. She dropped her sunglasses in the garbage can, but what was she going to do with her real glasses?
"I'm sorry," a girl said. "Those two don't EVER pay attention to where they're going." She helped Hazel pick up her things that she had dropped.
"Are your glasses broken?" The girl asked.
"Yeah," Hazel muttered. "It's okay, it happens all the time." But the girl wasn't listening. She had pulled out her wand.
"Oculus Reparo." Hazel's eyes got bigger than they should have been. Wasn't that the spell she had done to repair the toaster and kitchen that summer?
"Um, thanks . . ." Hazel said.
"Oh, where are my manners?" the girl said suddenly. "My name's Hermione Granger." She said as she stuck out her hand for Hazel to shake. Hazel shook her hand and looked at the girl. Her hair was bushy, but it was nowhere near as bad as Hazel's was.
"My name's Hazel Jones." Hazel told the girl. Hazel felt uncomfortable lying to so many people about her name. Why couldn't she tell people her real name?
"Well, Hazel, I don't think I've seen you around before. Do you go to Hogwarts?" Hermione said all of this very fast.
"Um, no, I'm a transfer student. This is my first year at Hogwarts."
"Well, then you're in for a big surprise. There are lots of things at Hogwarts for you to discover. Have you seen the castle yet, or are you going to see it for the first time when we get there September First? Have you met any of the teachers yet? Some of them are grand and some of them aren't so nice to you. You have to watch out for Professor Snape. I wonder who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be. Probably some other guy." Hermione took a quick breath. "I wish they'd get a female teacher. Hogwarts hasn't had a female Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for over 750 years. Did you know that?" Hermione stopped talking long enough for Hazel to say,
"No." Hazel said. She wanted to say more but Hermione cut in almost at once leaving Hazel to continue listening to her.
"Well of course you didn't. You probably don't learn about other schools when you were at- where was it that you said you went before you were here?"
Hazel thought quickly. This girl, Hermione, seemed to know a lot about - well - everything. Hazel weighed her chances. If she made something up the girl would probably figure out that she was lying and then she'd be in a lot more trouble than it was worth to be in. On the other hand, if she didn't answer at all the girl would get suspicious.
"Uh, d- well, we're n-not supposed to talk about it." Hazel lied again. She knew she stuttered a lot and she hoped Hermione wouldn't count that against her.
"Oh, I suppose that makes a lot of sense. I mean, there's a lot of rivalry between wizarding schools so it makes sense that you wouldn't tell me. Could you give me a clue? Then you wouldn't be telling me and I could have SOMETHING to do over the rest of the summer. I ran out of homework after the first two days."
"THE FIRST TWO DAYS?" Hazel asked loudly. There must not be THAT much homework if she had finished it all in two days.
"Yes. They only gave us four essays that only needed to be anywhere from three-five rolls of parchment each, so I ran out. I'm afraid I may have written too much on my potions and transfiguration homework. Both are seven rolls. My mum and dad can't help me, of course, so I took longer to do my homework than I would have wanted it to take. It took me three hours on my charms homework alone. Imagine how dreadful it'd be if it took me that long per roll of parchment."
"Why couldn't your parents help you? Weren't they home?" Hazel asked, wondering whether Hermione had parents. Maybe she was somewhat like her and her parents weren't alive. That'd be the first thing she had in common with anyone she had met.
"Oh, yes, they were home, but they're muggles so they can't help me with anything related to magic."
"Muggles?" Hazel said blankly, not thinking about how clueless she sounded.
"Non-magical people. . ." Hermione said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Oh, is that what you call them here? Okay. I live with muggles too. Privet Drive, not that you'd know where that is."
"Privet Drive?!" Hermione said sounding alarmed.
"Yes, why? Is there something wrong?"
"I-" whatever Hermione was going say, she was cut off because two boys that looked exactly the same came into the shop and grabbed Hermione's arms saying,
"Ickle Ronnikins wants to tell you something, 'Mione." Hermione immediately turned a light pink color.
"What would Ron want to tell me Fred, George?" Hermione asked them suspiciously.
"You'll see Hermione." They both said at the same time with the same evil- looking smirks on their identical faces. And with that, Hermione was swept from the store. Hazel walked up to the person at the front desk.
"Excuse me, do you know what books I need? I'm going to Hogwarts in the fifth year." Hazel said to the man behind the desk in the bookstore.
"What subjects are you taking?" What subjects was she taking? What on earth did he mean? She was going to take everything.
"Everything." Hazel told him. The man gave her a skeptical look.
"Everything?" He said with doubt in his voice.
"Yes, everything." The man shook his head and began making a pile of books. Hazel immediately knew her mistake. There were evidently a lot of subjects at Hogwarts, which she should have known, because there were a million teachers too.
Ten minutes later the man showed no sign of relenting on the steady stream of books and Hazel began wondering whether she would be able to afford the books or not. There were piles and piles of books all on the desk and there were at least five in his arms each time he brought another load. Once there were about ten piles with ten books each he had finished bringing all of the books to her.
"That'll be - to be perfectly honest, I don't know how much that'll be." The man said. He whipped out some parchment and a quill and started scribbling numbers. Now and then Hazel heard things like, "50 book discount" or "discount on three Bagshot books" and even "what's thirteen times twenty-one?"
The man finally stood up fully. He had sweat on his brow and he gave Hazel an odd look.
"You're sure you can afford this?" He said.
"How much is it?"
"132 galleons, but if you come here and help on weekends during the pre- Christmas season in November I'll give the books to you for 93 galleons." The man said.
"Why is there such a price reduction if I come to help?" Hazel asked innocently.
"Because you don't know what it's like here in November."
"Deal." Hazel said and she handed over 93 galleons.
"Hagrid," Hazel said. "I think I'll need more money soon."
"Already?" Hagrid said as he gave Hazel an odd look.
"Well, yea, because I spend a lot of money on books and other stuff for school . . ."
"Well, how much did yeh spend?"
"Around 245 galleons." Hagrid let out a booming laugh.
"I've supplied yeh with 400 galleons and there are thousands more in your Gringotts vault!" Hagrid said. "Don't 'cha worry." Hazel smiled to herself. She was learning things by the time it was too late wherever she turned. Maybe it was time to learn to read the future.
The train ride home was as uneventful as it could have ever been. Hazel sat up looking at the landscape flash by the train and wondering what it was going to be like once she got to Hogwarts. She wondered whether she'd see Hermione anymore and if she'd be in the same house as anyone that she had seen at Diagon Alley. Hazel frowned. What was it that almost everyone seemed to know at Hogwarts that they weren't telling her? Hazel was jerked out of her thoughts when Hagrid picked her up and carried her off the train practically by her arm. When he had set her down on the ground just outside of the train they walked out of earshot of any of the people that were passing by and he leaned close to her and said,
"Oh, I almos' forgot. Here's your ticket and stick to it. Make sure you go where it says. If not you won't be on the right train. Stick to your ticket." Hazel looked at her ticket and it said:
Platform 9 ¾ Kings Cross Station
Hazel looked around to find Hagrid to argue that this platform simply didn't exist but Hagrid was nowhere in sight. He had simply disappeared from view. But how could someone so large just disappear?
"Hagrid?" Hazel whispered. Sighing, Hazel drug the bags upon bags of stuff towards the exit. It looked like she'd be walking home. Hazel was, once again, jerked from her thoughts with a loud car horn. Mary and John were there waiting for her. Hazel attempted to drag the thousands of pounds of school things faster, but only succeeded in ripping a hole in one of the bags. Slowly, Hazel trudged to the car where John helped her load all of her stuff into the trunk. Most of it fit, but some of it was packed in around Hazel as she sat in the back and chattered their ears off about Diagon Alley and Hagrid and Hermione and all of the things that she had bought.
When they arrived home Hazel whipped out her wand and told them what had happened at Ollivander's and Mary had told her around seven times that she should have paid for the wand. Hazel tried and tried to explain that Mr. Ollivander had been so forceful with the fact that she should take the wand for free that she simply couldn't have paid for it even if she had force- fed him poison first.
Dinner was a grand affair. Mary seemed to have learned that making enough food to feed a third world country was TOO MUCH food for a three-person family. They ate and talked and John even shared a joke with them. It was so stupid that it was funny.
"Okay," John said. "What is black and white and red all over?"
"A sunburned zebra or a newspaper." Mary said at once and the two of them burst out laughing. Hazel raised one eye brow at them and enjoyed watching them laugh themselves silly. Their laughter finally stopped when they were turning blue and Hazel thumped them on the backs saying "Breathe!"
That night, when Hazel went to bed she automatically scanned the skies for an owl or perhaps something that was flying that shouldn't have been. It had become habit to look into the sky before she did anything else at night. Hazel changed and looked at herself in the mirror. She was still the stringy 15-year-old girl that had a lightning bolt scar and extremely messy hair but now she could add more to the title, the witch in the house of number 7 Privet Drive. The last thing Hazel remembered thinking as she layback down in her bed was about Hogwarts, and wondered how long the train ride there would be.
Authors Notes:
If you find anything misspelled or wrong in the fan fic at any times please e-mail me at kellyjaneclarkson@hotmail.com and I will try to fix the problem as soon as I possibly can. Also, if there is something that contradicts the books in any way tell me and I'll tell you whether I did that on purpose or not, or whether I was being an idiot. =)
I had no reviews on the second chapter! =(
Hazel woke up to Hagrid gruffly shaking her awake. Her whole arm seemed to fit in his hand, and she could feel her body leaving the seat every time he shook her. Her head ached where it had evidently hit the seat, and she couldn't feel her fingers.
"Hagrid," she moaned to him. "Please let go of my arm. I'm awake now." He nodded and dropped her arm. She rubbed it and began wiggling her fingers.
"We're 'ere." Hagrid said. Together they disembarked from the underground and Hazel had to rub her eyes as they reached the sunlight. They were walking along an old road, and the buildings lining it sold clothing, shoes, pencils and pens, even pet Gila Monsters, but not one shop looked as if it could sell you a magic wand.
They walked farther along the road and they stopped in front of a dingy old building. There were peeling golden letters on the front of the building that read "EAKY CAULDRO".
The Leaky Cauldron, as Hagrid had called it, was a small pub. If Hagrid hadn't stopped and pointed the building out, Hazel wouldn't have even noticed it among all of the glossy new-looking buildings of London. All of the people hurrying up and down the busy street didn't even notice it. The people jostling around the street behind them didn't seem to even notice the building in front of them, it was as if they couldn't even see it, and the prickling sensation on the back of her neck didn't help.
"This is a famous pub for all o' the witches and wizards of the world." Hagrid told her as she shoved her inside.
For a famous place it was rather dark and shabby looking. A few ladies were sitting in the corner gossiping, but for ladies they were the ugliest ladies that Hazel had ever seen. A few men were crowded around a billiards table smoking long pipes and laughing loudly. There were some things that looked like mutant goblins sitting around the smallest table drinking beer and pounding the table with their fists. A little man with a top hat was talking to the bartender, who was quite bald and looked like a toothless walnut. The low buzz of chatter and laughter seemed to quiet down a bit and everyone seemed to know Hagrid. A few people smiled and waved, and the bartender reached for a glass and said, "The usual, Hagrid?"
"Not this time, Tom. Hogwarts business." Hagrid beamed down delightedly at Hazel and she nervously flattened down her bangs. These people, no matter where she was, seemed to know things about her that she didn't and she wasn't sure whether it was a good thing or a bad thing that she had her scar.
She also noticed that people were looking at her eyes as though there was something odd about them. Quickly she pulled out a pair of sunglasses that she always kept in her pocket and put them on instead of her regular glasses. Nobody could see her eyes now.
The bartender seemed to take a few looks before asking her name. It was as though people there were recognizing her.
"And what is her name?" Tom finally asked, peeling his eyes away from her.
"Hazel." She replied instantly. "Hazel Jones." She added remembering what Dumbledore had said.
"Ah. I don' believe there has been a Jones here for a long time. Great wizarding family of the 1800's."
"Er.I don't think I am related to THAT branch of the Joneses, I grew up. out of touch with magic." Hazel delicately said. Tom nodded.
"Alrigh', well, Hagrid, good luck." Hagrid nodded and the next thing Hazel knew, she was being drug to the back door of the Leaky Cauldron. As they came out Hazel noticed that there was a solid-looking brick wall.
"Hagrid? How're we going to go through a wall?"
"We will, believe me. It's not what is just seems like." Hagrid said mischievously.
"You jus' watch while I open th' door."
Hazel stood and waited for him to do something. As Hagrid pulled out a pink umbrella a witch from inside the Leaky Cauldron came out and tripped over a can that seemed to be on the ground. She scattered all of her - whatever she was holding that looked strangely like bones - and knocked into Hazel. Hazel fell over and by the time she had gotten herself up the gateway that had been made in the wall was slowly closing.
"Oh no." Hazel said to herself as she ran towards the hole that was still shrinking. She jumped through the hold and hit something rather solid. She turned around, expecting to see the backyard of the Leaky Cauldron, but instead met another solid panel of brick.
She was stuck in the barrier that was between Diagon Alley and the Leaky Cauldron.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Hazel's fist began to throb from hitting the wall so many times. She was desperate to get out. Being stuck in a wall for days wasn't her idea of fun. Besides, Hagrid must have been worried about her, right?
"HELP!" Hazel screamed into the wall. Her voice was returned to her in an eerie echo. It was getting rather uncomfortable to be in there and she couldn't sit down. It was barely wide enough for her to stand in.
Suddenly the bricks began rumbling and she heard some of them moving. Was someone trying to get through? Maybe that would mean that she could get out. If somebody opened the wall, then she would just fall out and be on her way, right? That was the way she got in.
She felt someone pass through her and she thought she was going to be broken. It was like she was being ripped into pieces or like millions of tiny needles were being driven through her. It was the feeling that she was being run through a screen and she was broken up into pieces to fit through the gaps in the screen. The pain was so intense that Hazel wanted to scream; only she couldn't. Her voice was caught in her throat.
Hazel emerged through the brick wall, or at least she thought she had. She took a look at her hands and gasped. She was partly there, but her hands and the rest of her, were transparent. She tried to touch something, and watched her hand pass through it. It was as though she was a ghost.
"Oh no." She said. At first, Hazel thought she was a ghost. She heard her voice, but it was crackly and it seemed to be coming from far away. As she walked away from the brick wall where she had been stuck, she saw her hands flicker. She continued to take steps away from the wall and she flickered more and more frequently.
Finally, when she came to about thirty paces away from the wall, she disappeared from view completely. Hazel knew that she had to get back to the wall. She could sense that all of her feelings were slowly siphoning out of her body and her mind was emptying. It was as though her soul was being sucked out of her. Hazel blindly plundered towards the wall again and she felt herself flicker. She finally came back into view and she let out a sigh of relief.
"Okay." Hazel said to herself. "I can't go more that ten feet from the wall, my body's stuck in the middle of a magical portal thing, and I don't know where Hagrid is." Hazel sighed. "Great situation to be stuck in Hazel."
Hazel's spirit, as she became accustomed to calling the being she was now, was pacing about ten feet from the wall, wondering what the heck she was going to do. There was nobody within about 1,000 feet of her, so she couldn't go and talk to someone unless she wanted to take the risk of disappearing forever. Hazel was quite sure she didn't want to disappear forever, so she stayed where she was.
Minutes seemed like hours and hours seemed like days. It seemed that Hagrid hadn't even noticed that she was missing. Hazel was almost worried that something had happened to him when she thought of something. All of the professors and teachers and even Dumbledore had been a little distant with her, like they were keeping secrets from her. Maybe they had planned to leave here, stranded, and stuck in a magical portal for eternity.
Hazel briefly wondered whether she could live forever if she wasn't really in her body when she flickered. The pain was returning. It was the same pain that she had experienced when she was being sucked out of the wall, but now she recognized that she was being almost magnetically attracted to the wall once more. Her feet began taking steps towards the wall without her actually wanting her feet to do anything.
The now becoming familiar feeling of a million needles being pierced through her whole body took over all of her thoughts. Hazel closed her eyes and hoped that she wasn't either dying or going insane. Both weren't really good choices.
The pain suddenly ended and she realized that she was, once again, stuck in the wall that separated the magical world from the non-magical world. Hazel heard muffled voices and she heard someone tapping on the bricks.
"Not again!" Hazel said as she went as far to one side as she could. The brick wall began to open and she saw people standing diagonally from her. There were three people. One had silvery-blonde hair and a drawling voice. The second and third were easily twice as large as the first. One had a pudding bowl hair cut and the other had short, buzz cut-like hair.
As the three went through the wall another group of people were coming through - a man with the same silvery-blonde hair and a woman with dark brown hair. The woman was wearing an expression that made Hazel think of her neighbor's pet pugs.
That family and the other people that were with them looked almost scary as the wax figures at museums, and Hazel made a mental note NOT to associate with scary, wax-look-alike people.
Hazel watched the people go sadly. She was still stuck in a wall and now she was sure that if she wasn't helped out that she would die of hunger because at that precise moment her stomach growled.
She stood up and continued banging on the wall. Maybe nobody could hear her, but at least it made her feel like she was doing something.
"Hazel. Hazel. Where are yeh?"
"HAGRID!" Hazel yelled. She had heard Hagrid's voice, she was sure of it. "HAGRID I'M NOT MISSING! I'M STUCK IN THE WALL!" Hazel continued to yell as she banged her fist as hard as she could on the brick barrier.
"Hazel?" Came the muffled reply.
"YES, HAGRID, IT'S HAZEL. I'M STUCK IN THE BRICK WALL!"
"How'd yeh get in there?" he asked. "Why'd yeh get in there?"
"IT'S A LONG STORY HAGRID."
Hazel was waiting to be rescued when a large, trash can lid sized hand appeared in the wall. She felt the hand grab the back of her shirt and she was being lifted. She started to go through the brick and she felt a spinning feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was thrown into a flash of light.
Blinking, Hazel stood up. She saw a woman with fiery red hair and the same emerald eyes as she herself had. The woman was holding hands with a man with black hair that was easily as unruly as hers and his glasses were uncannily like hers. The pair of them looked delighted and nervous at the same time.
"Sorry." Hazel said. Nobody in the scene before her eyes moves.
"SORRY!" Hazel almost screamed. Nobody even blinked.
The two were met by three other people, a tired-looking man with golden hair that was streaked with grey, another man, but this one with dark hair and a set jaw and he was good-looking even to Hazel who hated boys, and a third man who was square-ish and shorter than all of the four people around him.
"Well," said the man that had the same hair, glasses, and probably many other things, as Hazel. "Lily and I have some news for you all." Hazel stared at the man, knowing that he couldn't see her. Had he said Lily? Wasn't that her middle name? Was it just a coincidence?
"Well?!" the second man asked. He looked impatient and the blonde haired man was smacking him on the arm as though to tell him to shut up.
Lily and the man she was holding hands with laughed.
"We're going to have a baby." The man said.
"You're joking, right?"
"No, Sirius, I'm serious." The whole group of people laughed.
"Congratulations James, Lily." Said the blonde-grey haired man.
"Thanks, Remus. But, there's more news."
"MORE?! JAMES POTTER, ARE YOU TELLING ME THE TRUTH?" Sirius said loudly.
"Yes," James said. He turned to Lily and smiled.
"We're having twins. A boy and a girl." Lily said.
The three men standing before them all stood, with their mouths hanging open, looking from Lily, to James, and back again.
Hazel felt herself being pulled back to the right time period of her life. The last thing she heard was,
"What are you going to name them?"
"Harry and Hazel."
Hazel slowly became aware that she was staring into the eyes of a large man with a very messy beard and long hair.
"Hagrid?" Hazel whispered.
"Yea 'S me, Hazel. Are yeh alrigh'?"
"Yes. . ." Hazel said. "Yes, I think so."
"Okay, so, what's yer list say to get first?" Hagrid asked Hazel. Her stomach growled.
"Some food." Hazel said at once. Hagrid smiled -or, that's what Hazel thought he did, she couldn't be sure.
"Now, what's yer list say to get first?"
Hazel reached in all of her pockets looking for a list, but she couldn't find anything anywhere.
"Yeh lost it, didn' ya?" Hagrid said.
Hazel smiled shyly at him. Would he be mad and did he know what she was supposed to bring to school? What if she had to go to Hogwarts without any of the supplies that she needed? Or even worse - What if she showed up with nothing and was taken home because she didn't have the things she needed?
"H-Hagrid?" Hazel said, as she silently was dreading the answer.
"Yea?" Hagrid said.
"What will they do to me if, well, if I don't have my stuff?" What would they do?
"Oh, don' worry 'bout tha'. I know more o' the things yeh'll be needin'."
"R-really? You mean I can go to Hogwarts?" Hazel said.
"Why wouldn't yeh?"
"I don't know, Hagrid. I don't know."
"Where do yeh want to go firs'?" Hagrid asked.
Where did she want to go first? Maybe she wanted to get her wand, or maybe she wanted to go look at the shop that seemed to have every kind of pet imaginable, or maybe she wanted to look at the broomsticks that were on display. She didn't know.
Hazel stood there, in the middle of the road, and she just turned in a few circles taking in all of the shops that were surrounding her.
"There's so many to choose from." Hazel said obviously. Hagrid gave her a knowing look and nodded. Hazel stood and thought for what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a few seconds.
"How about, we - we get my wand?" Hagrid nodded.
"Good choice." Together they walked to the shop that evidently sold wands. The lettering on the building was obviously as old, if not older, than the lettering on the Leaky Cauldron, but was sparkling like new. The name of the shop was Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C. There were dozens of wands in cases being shown in the window and they all were delicately placed on beautiful, velvet cushions.
As Hazel pushed open the door a clear and loud bell rang from somewhere in the shop. Hazel busied herself by looking at all of the wands that were placed in the cases. There was a label that said, "new arrivals" in a scrawly and a certain wand caught her eye. It looked the same as the others, yet quite different. Hazel wasn't sure what it was, but it DID look somewhat different. It wasn't the color or the shape or the size or the -
"And who have we here?" Said a quiet voice behind her. Hazel whipped around and almost fell in the process. Where was Hagrid?
"Um, hi?" Hazel said pitifully.
"What's your name Milady?"
"Hazel - Hazel Jones."
"Alright miss Jones, well, are you here for your first wand or is this a second or perhaps third wand? Why just the other day I had a customer in for his twenty-third wand. . ." Mr. Ollivander continued in vain for quite some time, which gave Hazel more time to examine the shop around her. It was rather dusty and dingy. There were shelves upon shelves of wands and there was a large pile of ripped up papers at the back of the store.
Hazel, finally bored of looking at the shop and listening to Mr. Ollivander talk, cleared her throat loudly.
"Right, right, sorry." Mr. Ollivander said, and he almost sounded embarrassed. "So, have you any idea what your wand hand is?"
Hazel blinked. "My what?"
"Your wand hand, the hand that you use to write and cast spells."
"Oh," Hazel said, trying to pretend that she had merely pushed the matter out of her mind instead of the truth that she was actually clueless. "I suppose it's my right hand." Mr. Ollivander nodded and began rummaging through the many boxes on the many shelves.
Mr. Ollivander took out a tape measure and merely set it in mid-air and began rummaging again. It bothered Hazel a little bit that the tape measure was writing and measuring on it's own.
"Ah!" He said suddenly and with such emphasis that Hazel, once again, jumped.
"Try this one, Ms. Jones." Mr. Ollivander said. "Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Hazel accepted the wand and waved the wand around. Suddenly a loud banging noise met Hazel's ears and she saw that one of the enormous shelves was falling. Hazel's eyes widened and she threw her hand in a complicated gesture and the shelf froze exactly where it was. Mr. Ollivander took a good look at her and shook his head, muttering to himself.
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy if you ask me. Try this one-" But right as Hazel rose the wand she noticed that a file cabinet was starting to fly open and she quickly handed the wand back to him.
"No, not that one." Mr. Ollivander agreed.
"You're a tricky customer. Well, might as well . . . is there a wand that you are interested in? Anything you want to try?" Hazel thought for a minute. Did she want to try that wand she had been admiring in the window case?
"Can - can I try that one?" she asked as she pointed to the wand in the case. Mr. Ollivander gave her a peculiar look.
"What?" she said abruptly then her hand flew to her mouth. "I'm sorry, that was rude, wasn't it?" It was more of a statement that a question. Mr. Ollivander seemed to be, however, in his own little word as he was looking at the wand with a look of great confusion on his face. He slowly slid it out of the case as though it were going to explode. He, even slower, handed her the wand.
"If you want to keep the wand-" Hazel began, but he cut her off at once.
"This wand shouldn't exist." He whipped and looked at Hazel for a long timed. Hazel looked directly into his eyes and wished that he would blink.
"You're surname isn't Jones, is it?" Mr. Ollivander demanded.
"Yes sir, my surname IS Jones." Hazel lied. She hoped that she was convincing. Mr. Ollivander looked once more at the wand that was in his hand and suddenly he dropped the wand, as though it were a hot wire. The wand fell to the ground with a clatter.
"What?!" Hazel said. "What's wrong with the wand?" Mr. Ollivander wearily walked over to a spinning chair that was near the wall in the shop. He sat down and tried to stop his hand from shaking.
"Ms. Jones, I remember every single wand I've sold. Every single wand. It just happens to be that I DO NOT remember ever purchasing this wand's core and the phoenix whose tail feather resides in that wand-" he pointed at the wand. "Has only given two feathers, and I have sold BOTH of those wands."
"Well, with all due respect and whatever, I don't think that any human being could actually remember all of these wands, I mean LOOK at all of them. There are thousands. How can somebody be expected to remember each one? I bet no one can name how many you've sold and - "
"I've sold 32,347 wands, 43.56% of them were sold before the year 1500 - "
"How old ARE you?" Hazel suddenly burst out.
"My dear, if I knew, I would most certainly tell you. I am but a servant, bound to serve for all eternity. I am not a person, merely a free spirit that is solid."
"Oh." Hazel bent down to pick up the wand.
"Thirteen and a half inches. Yes. Phoenix tail feather. If you feel you must, you may wave it." Hazel eyed the wand suspiciously. She hadn't been having much luck with wands, and she had no doubt that something bad would happen with this one too.
Hazel raised the wand a few inches and flicked it with a nice wrist movement. A shower of orange sparks flew forth from the wand and Mr. Ollivander, if possible, looked even more shocked.
"How much?" Hazel asked.
"Nothing. Just - just go." He said. Mr. Ollivander was breathing heavily and he looked quite shocked. If he hadn't told Hazel that he wasn't human she would think that he was having a heart attack.
"But, shouldn't I pay for this. I mean, this can't be cheap to make and if you give this to me for free the, well, ya'know. . ." Hazel trailed off hopeful that Mr. Ollivander would know because she certainly didn't know.
"Just take the wand and go Miss Jones." He said once more.
"But I can't take it without paying for it. That's stealing." Hazel persisted. She wasn't going to take the wand. It must have been at least 50 galleons and she didn't want to get in trouble later for stealing a wand.
"Take the wand." Mr. Ollivander whispered in a deathly scary whisper.
"A-alright." Hazel stammered as she walked out of the shop with a startled expression on her face. That was the weirdest shop she had ever been in.
"Hazel!" Said Hagrid as he met up with her. "I wrote down all of the stuff yeh'll be needin'." Hagrid handed her a list and she read it. There were about a million things that she still needed to get and she only had a few hours.
"How do I pay for all this?" Hazel asked. Hagrid grinned and shoved a large bag that was full of money at her. "'Ere."
"Um . . . thanks."
Hazel looked over the list. The last things she needed were her books. They were the only things that Hagrid hadn't written down for her. Shrugging, Hazel strode into the bookshop.
There were books on the shelves that were crying and there were books that were eating other books. Hazel couldn't believe the amount of books the shop held. From the outside you'd never realize that there were so many shelves and shelves and even people in the shop. Hazel had to remind herself that she was in a magical bookshop and many, many things can happen when the shop is a magical one.
Hazel was about to go ask the shopkeeper where they kept, The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5, when she was shoved over by two boys that were arguing about something and they continued arguing all the way out the door. Hazel didn't really see them, but all she noticed was that one of them had very red hair. Hazel sighed because her regular glasses as well as her sunglasses were broken. She dropped her sunglasses in the garbage can, but what was she going to do with her real glasses?
"I'm sorry," a girl said. "Those two don't EVER pay attention to where they're going." She helped Hazel pick up her things that she had dropped.
"Are your glasses broken?" The girl asked.
"Yeah," Hazel muttered. "It's okay, it happens all the time." But the girl wasn't listening. She had pulled out her wand.
"Oculus Reparo." Hazel's eyes got bigger than they should have been. Wasn't that the spell she had done to repair the toaster and kitchen that summer?
"Um, thanks . . ." Hazel said.
"Oh, where are my manners?" the girl said suddenly. "My name's Hermione Granger." She said as she stuck out her hand for Hazel to shake. Hazel shook her hand and looked at the girl. Her hair was bushy, but it was nowhere near as bad as Hazel's was.
"My name's Hazel Jones." Hazel told the girl. Hazel felt uncomfortable lying to so many people about her name. Why couldn't she tell people her real name?
"Well, Hazel, I don't think I've seen you around before. Do you go to Hogwarts?" Hermione said all of this very fast.
"Um, no, I'm a transfer student. This is my first year at Hogwarts."
"Well, then you're in for a big surprise. There are lots of things at Hogwarts for you to discover. Have you seen the castle yet, or are you going to see it for the first time when we get there September First? Have you met any of the teachers yet? Some of them are grand and some of them aren't so nice to you. You have to watch out for Professor Snape. I wonder who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be. Probably some other guy." Hermione took a quick breath. "I wish they'd get a female teacher. Hogwarts hasn't had a female Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher for over 750 years. Did you know that?" Hermione stopped talking long enough for Hazel to say,
"No." Hazel said. She wanted to say more but Hermione cut in almost at once leaving Hazel to continue listening to her.
"Well of course you didn't. You probably don't learn about other schools when you were at- where was it that you said you went before you were here?"
Hazel thought quickly. This girl, Hermione, seemed to know a lot about - well - everything. Hazel weighed her chances. If she made something up the girl would probably figure out that she was lying and then she'd be in a lot more trouble than it was worth to be in. On the other hand, if she didn't answer at all the girl would get suspicious.
"Uh, d- well, we're n-not supposed to talk about it." Hazel lied again. She knew she stuttered a lot and she hoped Hermione wouldn't count that against her.
"Oh, I suppose that makes a lot of sense. I mean, there's a lot of rivalry between wizarding schools so it makes sense that you wouldn't tell me. Could you give me a clue? Then you wouldn't be telling me and I could have SOMETHING to do over the rest of the summer. I ran out of homework after the first two days."
"THE FIRST TWO DAYS?" Hazel asked loudly. There must not be THAT much homework if she had finished it all in two days.
"Yes. They only gave us four essays that only needed to be anywhere from three-five rolls of parchment each, so I ran out. I'm afraid I may have written too much on my potions and transfiguration homework. Both are seven rolls. My mum and dad can't help me, of course, so I took longer to do my homework than I would have wanted it to take. It took me three hours on my charms homework alone. Imagine how dreadful it'd be if it took me that long per roll of parchment."
"Why couldn't your parents help you? Weren't they home?" Hazel asked, wondering whether Hermione had parents. Maybe she was somewhat like her and her parents weren't alive. That'd be the first thing she had in common with anyone she had met.
"Oh, yes, they were home, but they're muggles so they can't help me with anything related to magic."
"Muggles?" Hazel said blankly, not thinking about how clueless she sounded.
"Non-magical people. . ." Hermione said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Oh, is that what you call them here? Okay. I live with muggles too. Privet Drive, not that you'd know where that is."
"Privet Drive?!" Hermione said sounding alarmed.
"Yes, why? Is there something wrong?"
"I-" whatever Hermione was going say, she was cut off because two boys that looked exactly the same came into the shop and grabbed Hermione's arms saying,
"Ickle Ronnikins wants to tell you something, 'Mione." Hermione immediately turned a light pink color.
"What would Ron want to tell me Fred, George?" Hermione asked them suspiciously.
"You'll see Hermione." They both said at the same time with the same evil- looking smirks on their identical faces. And with that, Hermione was swept from the store. Hazel walked up to the person at the front desk.
"Excuse me, do you know what books I need? I'm going to Hogwarts in the fifth year." Hazel said to the man behind the desk in the bookstore.
"What subjects are you taking?" What subjects was she taking? What on earth did he mean? She was going to take everything.
"Everything." Hazel told him. The man gave her a skeptical look.
"Everything?" He said with doubt in his voice.
"Yes, everything." The man shook his head and began making a pile of books. Hazel immediately knew her mistake. There were evidently a lot of subjects at Hogwarts, which she should have known, because there were a million teachers too.
Ten minutes later the man showed no sign of relenting on the steady stream of books and Hazel began wondering whether she would be able to afford the books or not. There were piles and piles of books all on the desk and there were at least five in his arms each time he brought another load. Once there were about ten piles with ten books each he had finished bringing all of the books to her.
"That'll be - to be perfectly honest, I don't know how much that'll be." The man said. He whipped out some parchment and a quill and started scribbling numbers. Now and then Hazel heard things like, "50 book discount" or "discount on three Bagshot books" and even "what's thirteen times twenty-one?"
The man finally stood up fully. He had sweat on his brow and he gave Hazel an odd look.
"You're sure you can afford this?" He said.
"How much is it?"
"132 galleons, but if you come here and help on weekends during the pre- Christmas season in November I'll give the books to you for 93 galleons." The man said.
"Why is there such a price reduction if I come to help?" Hazel asked innocently.
"Because you don't know what it's like here in November."
"Deal." Hazel said and she handed over 93 galleons.
"Hagrid," Hazel said. "I think I'll need more money soon."
"Already?" Hagrid said as he gave Hazel an odd look.
"Well, yea, because I spend a lot of money on books and other stuff for school . . ."
"Well, how much did yeh spend?"
"Around 245 galleons." Hagrid let out a booming laugh.
"I've supplied yeh with 400 galleons and there are thousands more in your Gringotts vault!" Hagrid said. "Don't 'cha worry." Hazel smiled to herself. She was learning things by the time it was too late wherever she turned. Maybe it was time to learn to read the future.
The train ride home was as uneventful as it could have ever been. Hazel sat up looking at the landscape flash by the train and wondering what it was going to be like once she got to Hogwarts. She wondered whether she'd see Hermione anymore and if she'd be in the same house as anyone that she had seen at Diagon Alley. Hazel frowned. What was it that almost everyone seemed to know at Hogwarts that they weren't telling her? Hazel was jerked out of her thoughts when Hagrid picked her up and carried her off the train practically by her arm. When he had set her down on the ground just outside of the train they walked out of earshot of any of the people that were passing by and he leaned close to her and said,
"Oh, I almos' forgot. Here's your ticket and stick to it. Make sure you go where it says. If not you won't be on the right train. Stick to your ticket." Hazel looked at her ticket and it said:
Platform 9 ¾ Kings Cross Station
Hazel looked around to find Hagrid to argue that this platform simply didn't exist but Hagrid was nowhere in sight. He had simply disappeared from view. But how could someone so large just disappear?
"Hagrid?" Hazel whispered. Sighing, Hazel drug the bags upon bags of stuff towards the exit. It looked like she'd be walking home. Hazel was, once again, jerked from her thoughts with a loud car horn. Mary and John were there waiting for her. Hazel attempted to drag the thousands of pounds of school things faster, but only succeeded in ripping a hole in one of the bags. Slowly, Hazel trudged to the car where John helped her load all of her stuff into the trunk. Most of it fit, but some of it was packed in around Hazel as she sat in the back and chattered their ears off about Diagon Alley and Hagrid and Hermione and all of the things that she had bought.
When they arrived home Hazel whipped out her wand and told them what had happened at Ollivander's and Mary had told her around seven times that she should have paid for the wand. Hazel tried and tried to explain that Mr. Ollivander had been so forceful with the fact that she should take the wand for free that she simply couldn't have paid for it even if she had force- fed him poison first.
Dinner was a grand affair. Mary seemed to have learned that making enough food to feed a third world country was TOO MUCH food for a three-person family. They ate and talked and John even shared a joke with them. It was so stupid that it was funny.
"Okay," John said. "What is black and white and red all over?"
"A sunburned zebra or a newspaper." Mary said at once and the two of them burst out laughing. Hazel raised one eye brow at them and enjoyed watching them laugh themselves silly. Their laughter finally stopped when they were turning blue and Hazel thumped them on the backs saying "Breathe!"
That night, when Hazel went to bed she automatically scanned the skies for an owl or perhaps something that was flying that shouldn't have been. It had become habit to look into the sky before she did anything else at night. Hazel changed and looked at herself in the mirror. She was still the stringy 15-year-old girl that had a lightning bolt scar and extremely messy hair but now she could add more to the title, the witch in the house of number 7 Privet Drive. The last thing Hazel remembered thinking as she layback down in her bed was about Hogwarts, and wondered how long the train ride there would be.
Authors Notes:
If you find anything misspelled or wrong in the fan fic at any times please e-mail me at kellyjaneclarkson@hotmail.com and I will try to fix the problem as soon as I possibly can. Also, if there is something that contradicts the books in any way tell me and I'll tell you whether I did that on purpose or not, or whether I was being an idiot. =)
I had no reviews on the second chapter! =(