Willow stared at the fireplace, greatly disturbed.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Ron's family uses it all the time," Harry informed her, trying to sound less nervous than he felt. He had never quite grown accustomed to traveling via floo powder. Grey stood impassively next to Willow, waiting for her to make up her mind.
"Couldn't we take the train?"
"Too slow," Grey said with a head shake. "This is strictly quick necessity shopping and back."
"Why can't you do this?" she asked him. He was going through by touching one of them as they did it.
"No magic, remember?"
"Right." She stepped into the fireplace, followed by Grey. She grabbed his hand for reassurance. Tossing down the powder, she shouted "Diagon Alley," and was gone.
They emerged onto a bustling street full of shops. Willow was overwhelmed at the number of witches and wizards and the variety of robe colors and styles. Thus far she had only seen the Hogwarts black.
"Whoa," she said in awe, her eyes wide. It seemed too much to drink in at once. Saturday seemed to be as big a wizard shopping day as it was for muggles. They heard an 'oof'; a few seconds later, Harry was beside them.
"So, what's on the shopping list today?" Willow asked him cheerfully, recovering from her daze. She had persuaded Giles and then McGonagall, over Snape's loud protests, to let Harry come with her when she went to purchase a wand. He had not been able to buy school books or supplies, due to his incarceration, and had been borrowing from the library or the other Gryffindors. She had offered to take Ron and Hermione as well, but Giles had given her one of his looks and said that he would find other things for them to do. She figured a field trip would be nearly as good as baking cookies to alleviate her guilt. Grey had offered to come along as a security escort.
"Flourish and Blotts for books and then further down the street for supplies. I'm all set for robes, and we need to get your wand at Ollivander's. It shouldn't take all that long," he concluded.
"Bank first," Grey said.
"Yah, boss," Willow said with a giggle. "Could you cut out some of those syllables? You've got way too many." He shot her an annoyed glance.
Gringott's was like no place Willow had ever seen. Nothing on the Hellmouth had prepared her for the sight of goblins running a bank. Giles had given her access to his account, though she let Harry and Grey gather the money for her. She understood the conversion system, but had no idea what the relative prices of things were. She emerged carrying a decent bag full of gold in one hand and a bewildered expression plastered on her face.
Harry and Grey were thoroughly amused as Willow poked around the books and supplies in the various stores. She laughed hysterically at an enormous jar of chicken feet, leaving them looking at one another in disbelief. When she tried to explain, all they got was "Anya … price … shop" through the laughter. They didn't press further.
With Grey helping to carry the massive bundles, Harry finished his shopping in just under an hour. They decided to hit Ollivander's and then stop for an ice cream with Florean Fortescue, who hadn't seen Harry in ages and absolutely insisted on it. Walking into the wand shop and seeing the stacks of boxes, Willow blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
"You know what Buffy would say right now?" Grey and Harry gave her raised eyebrows. "She'd say 'my god, Willow, who wears all these really narrow shoes?" All three of them burst into laughter. An elderly man with enormous silver eyes came to see about the ruckus.
"Can I help … oh, yes Mr. Potter, how are you today?"
"Well, thanks, Mr. Ollivander." The old man looked at Grey.
"You must be the Grey boy. Shame I haven't seen you in here before. Spitting image of your father, you are." Grey offered his thanks, and the man looked Willow over. She suddenly felt like Grade A beef: inspected. "Miss Rosenberg, I presume?" She nodded, for some reason afraid to speak. "Professor Dumbledore owled me about you yesterday. I've been pulling wands for you all morning."
"Umm… Thanks," she said, unsure how to respond.
"Now, let me see…" He rummaged around in a stack on his chair, eventually pulling one from the bottom. "Try this. Oak, nine and three-eights inches with a piece of eagle feather." He handed her the wand and all hell broke loose.
Globs of colored light flew all over the room, knocking over stacks of wands and scorching the walls. One stack fell on Ollivander, burying him in wand boxes. Some of the fallen boxes were hit a second time and caught fire. Grey grabbed Harry and dove out the door. Terrified, Willow hurled the wand from her hand; it shattered against the wall, ending the fireworks display. She saw the stack on the chair begin to fall and instinctively dove to catch it.
When Ollivander disentangled himself, he beheld a stirring sight. Willow had a wand in each hand, around an armful of boxes, and hung two feet off the ground. Grey and Harry, looking through the doorway, gasped in horror.
"Oh my," the proprietor said softly, looking at the witch's eyes. One had gone solid black; the other kept flickering from black to white and back. "Miss Rosenberg?" She looked down at him. His voice broke the trance and she crashed to the floor. Grey ran inside, hauling her up to a standing position. For a brief, irrelevant second she basked in the feel of his strong arms. When he let her go, she still clutched both wands and her eyes had returned to normal.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
"I-I think so," she said. "It was the oddest sensation. Not bad, but not good either. Just a kind of … buzzing."
"Did it feel like the other night?" Harry asked.
"No, not at all. I was totally in control. What happened?" She asked Mr. Ollivander.
"Most curious," he said, staring at the wands. "It would appear those two are equally suited for you. Holding them both must have canceled the effect they were supposed to have."
"Well, I can't have two wands," she said. He nodded.
"That's correct. Might I ask that you hand them both to me?" She did so. "Now, let's try one at a time. This one first. Ebony, ten inches, with a piece of dragon scale in the center."
Willow took the wand and felt a surge of power. It felt extraordinary. When he reached for it, she had to fight the urge to grab it and run. The feeling dissipated as he took it, leaving her empty and frightened at the powerful connection the wand had with her.
"Willow, eight inches, a bit flexible. Werewolf hair inside." When she took the second wand, she knew it was for her. The empty feeling of the previous wand vanished. Instead, she felt warm and safe, like she had wrapped herself in a warm blanket on a cold day.
"This one," she said without hesitation.
"I daresay that was the better choice, young lady. Ebony tends to have some … undesirable properties," Ollivander admitted. He hadn't said anything before, sensing that this choice was a deeply important one for her. "Shall I bag it for you?" Willow nodded, relieved. The grasping sensation of the first wand had been … not unpleasant, but very aggressive. She paid, and they walked back out into the sunlight.
"I'm sorry I keep throwing monkey wrenches into your normal lives, guys," Willow said sheepishly, aware that they had been forced to duck and cover.
"Willow," Harry answered, "if you had any idea how much weirdness creeps into my life every year …" He didn't even know how to finish the sentence, so settled for shaking his head. "I don't know about you guys," he finally added, "but I could really use some ice cream."