Chapter 11

"This is in London?" Holly asked, incredulously.

Lupin watched in amusement as Holly took in her first view of the Leaky Cauldron. Witches and wizards sat in tight groups at tables and along the serving bar, eating, drinking, and sharing the latest gossip. Robes swished here and there, and the undercurrent of conversation permeated the shadows. The tangy scents of ales and lagers mingled with rich aromas of roasting meats and simmering stews. It was a warm, welcoming little tavern, but there was a distinct wariness to the atmosphere that Lupin had not felt there for fifteen years. Since last spring, that uneasiness had been building, but after the disaster at the Ministry, there was a much more definite edge to things, and an uncertainty.

Still, life did carry on, and now, a young witch was gaining one of her first major exposures to that life. Although she must be feeling quite awkward, visually, Lupin was pleased to see, Holly fit right in. As much as she claimed to detest it, she was quite handy with long hair when she meant to be. The top portion was up in a loose knot, while the rest flowed in waves over her shoulders. Her glasses now had shiny silver, diamond shaped rims, just small enough not to be gaudy. Lupin had unearthed a set of women's robes that had once belonged to his mother. He had shrunken them well enough to suffice for the day, and with Holly's blue cloak, the effect was more than adequate. With the touch of makeup that Lupin had convinced her to wear, she looked like any other witch you'd find out for a day of shopping at Diagon Alley. Only the most careful eye could possibly have discerned her resemblance to Harry Potter.

She spun around wide-eyed, but with the presence of mind to keep her voice down. "How can this be in London? I thought you were trying to stay hidden from Muggles. Something like this can't possibly stay hidden for long."

Lupin smiled knowingly. "Holly, this has been in London since the city came into being. The Muggles haven't found it yet. They can't."

Holly actually looked impressed. "You can do that with magic? I really do have a lot to learn."

Lupin nodded amiably, but a whuff-whuff laugh caused Holly to look down. Snuffles was sitting by her foot, grinning widely, tongue lolling out.

"Think it's funny that I'm so far behind?" Holly smirked at him. "Perhaps the first thing I'll learn is how to transfigure you into a golden retriever." The dog's tongue snapped back into its mouth, and he tried to growl, but only succeeded in a choked whimper. "That's more like it," she said with a grin.

"I think I see a patch of yellow fur, Snuffles," Lupin taunted. "Maybe you'd look good like that."

Obviously, Sirius had not forgiven Lupin for the blonde hair incident. He turned on his tail and strutted through the tavern towards the back alley. Lupin indicated for Holly to follow, and nobody paid them any mind as they left the room.

The trio emerged into a small alleyway behind the tavern, which contained little more than a few dustbins and some stray cobwebs. Holly wrinkled her nose, looking out the corner of her eye at Lupin. "Diagon Alley?" she said, skeptically.

"Not exactly," he chuckled. He pulled his wand from a pocket in his robe and carefully counted the bricks above the dustbins. "Hmm . . . three up, two across, that's it." He tapped the prescribed brick with his wand.

Almost instantly, the wall seemed to shiver. In the middle of that brick, a small hole formed. The hole expanded quickly outwards, stretching the solid brick wall into an arch easily large enough for all three of them to pass through at once. Holly blinked a couple of times, staring through the archway into a busy street full of bustling people, shining store fronts, fascinating sights, and a complex mixture of curious smells. She took a tiny step forward and breathed, "Wicked . . ."

Lupin clapped her on the shoulder with a hearty laugh. "Welcome to Diagon Alley." He motioned her through the archway. She stopped short a few feet in and turned around in place. She watched in amazement as the archway sealed itself before her eyes, and shook her head with a lopsided grin. "Good show!" She turned back around and surveyed the scene before her. "Now, where to?"

"To Gringotts, the bank," Lupin said as he began leading her through the crowded street. "Dumbledore set up a small account for you to get things started. A few people who know about you sent a little bit of money each to help you with supplies."

"On no!" she moaned. "Don't tell me I've become a charity case. You've got to tell me who sent the money. I'm going to have to pay them back."

"And not a one of them would accept it." He laughed at her. "Looks like you'll just have to deal with someone being nice to you. That's not such a terrible thing, is it?"

"It's absolutely wonderful." Her voice dripped sarcasm. She rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the sights of Diagon Alley, marveling over the shop displays. "Cauldrons . . . Apothecary . . . what one earth? Owls? Why do they need so many owls?"

"Ah! Mail delivery," Lupin explained as though it were obvious.

"Mail? Oh never mind. Tell me later . . . hey! Whoa, Siri . . . er, Snuffles, what do you want?" The animagus had grabbed the corner of her robe and was tugging her towards a store front. "Okay, okay! Hello, what's this? Broomsticks? Racing brooms? You're kidding me!" She looked over her shoulder, grinning broadly. "Remus, they really fly?"

"Now, you don't think Muggles are creative enough to come up with a legend as ridiculous as flying broomsticks unless they had a little bit of help, do you?"

Holly nodded her understanding, then turned back to the window, having to restrain herself from pressing her face to the glass. "I have got to get me one of these."

Lupin laughed. "Brooms later, bank first." He directed her towards the brilliant white building at the end of the road which dwarfed every shop on the street. For all its elegance, the bank was constructed with odd angles, as though it had been built using magic, as well as marble and mortar. It was a captivating sight, but Holly kept glimpsing back over her shoulder and staring at the brooms as she walked away.

"Thanks Snuffles," Lupin said, exasperated. "You've got her all distracted. Trying to turn her into a Quidditch player already?"

Holly's grin widened, if that was possible. "Quidditch?"

Lupin shook his head in defeat as they climbed the Gringotts steps. "Brooms later, bank first," he repeated, but Holly could tell he was trying not to laugh.

Their shoes clacked loudly on the smooth marble floor, but the sound was lost in the cacophony of metallic clicks, gruff voices, and jangling coins. "These are, er, rather unorthodox bank tellers, aren't they?" Holly asked warily.

"They're goblins, Holly. They run the Gringotts banks worldwide. Nothing they like more than numbers, figures, and stockpiling gold."

"Hmmm. They're shorter than me, and almost as funny-looking."

Lupin blew out a deep breath as he approached one of the goblins behind the counter. He pulled out a piece of parchment with elegant script and an ornate seal. "Hello, I would like to activate this woman's account for her. It's the vault that Dumbledore set up last night."

The goblin peered at Holly as he took the letter with his long, craggily fingers. He nodded as he read, then snapped the letter down on the countertop. "Yes, very well. Tripwire! Key to vault 934." Seconds later, the goblin Tripwire arrived and placed a small, intricate gold key on in front of Holly. "Tripwire, take them to . . ."

"Wait!" Holly exclaimed. "I've seen those before. I have one."

Lupin stared at her. "How can you possibly have a Gringotts key?"

"My mum left it to me, with this cloak and a few other things." She reached into one of the pockets hidden within the folds of the cloak and withdrew a key almost identical to the one on the counter. Lupin shook his head in amazement. "You are full of surprises."

The goblin tapped the countertop impatiently. "Let me see the key." He took it and turned it over. "Vault 621. Tripwire, bring them there first." Tripwire nodded, but the first goblin leaned over the countertop and twisted up his mouth. "The dog cannot go to the vaults. He will have to wait outside," he said distastefully.

Snuffles was immediately off his haunches and in-between Holly and the goblin, fur bristling, a low growl beginning in his throat. "Snuffles!" Holly cried in surprise.

"Easy there, killer," Lupin said, giving Snuffles a friendly but firm thump on the shoulder. "Nothing is going to happen. We'll meet you on the front steps."

Snuffles held his ground for another moment before the look on Lupin's face finally caused him to back down. He sulked to the entrance, tail noticeably between his legs, whimpering.

"I almost feel bad for him," Holly mused.

"Don't." Lupin watched his friend go. "He's gotten away with more things than you can imagine because of that act." He turned back to Holly and Tripwire, the latter of whom was becoming quite impatient. Lupin sighed. "Personally, I'd almost like to trade places with Snuffles out there. I hate the rail cars. Merlin's beard, I hate the rail cars . . ."

". . . I hate the rail cars." Lupin had turned decidedly green by the time he stumbled over the edge of the car in front of vault 621. Holly bounced out behind him. "Wicked! That was great. Let's go back and do it again!"

Lupin just moaned. Holly only had time to briefly wonder how terribly far beneath the surface of Diagon Alley they had traveled when she was interrupted by a lantern being shoved into her hands. "Hold the lantern, please," Tripwire said flatly. He trundled to the door of the vault. The click of the key echoed eerily in the endless tunnels and caves, followed by the slow creak of the vault door. Holly's eyes widened as a golden glow seemed to illuminate that small corner of the Gringotts caverns. "I don't think we need to go to the next vault," she whispered.

Lupin sighed in relief. "Thank Merlin. I hate the rail cars."

They finally emerged from Gringotts to find Snuffles pacing frantically on the front step. He saw them and ran to Holly nearly bowling her over. "Whoa there!" she yelped, dodging the oncoming wall of fur. "You're so busy trying to protect me, I think you're going to smother me."

Snuffles backed down on his haunches, now looking very sheepish. He looked up at Lupin, who was still somewhat green, and began snickering at the nauseated wizard.

"I'd cut that out if I were you," Lupin said. "At least I've never been thrown out of a place because I might shed on the floor."

Snuffles snorted an indignant "whuff" and took off down the street.

"You guys are really awful to each other," Holly admonished sternly to Lupin as they followed the large black dog through the crowd.

"Ah, you have no idea. We've been best friends since we were in school. We played pranks on other people, when we couldn't do that, we'd play pranks on each other, whether or not the other was up for it."

Holly smirked at him. "I'd expect you two were a couple of hellions."

Lupin laughed. "We were infamous; the Marauders. The bunch of us probably pulled some of the greatest stunts of all time."

"The bunch of you?" Holly raised an eyebrow. "Who else?"

Lupin's face fell slightly. "Peter Pettigrew, who at the time, seemed harmless enough, and your uncle, James Potter."

Holly thought quietly for a moment as they walked. "What became of Pettigrew?"

Lupin grimaced at the thought. Holly always seemed to find the topics that were best avoided, but she might as well know. "He turned out to be the traitor who led Voldemort to Harry's parents. He blew up a street full of Muggles and framed Sirius for all of it."

Holly barely noticed as she bumped into passing witches and wizards. She was completely focused on Lupin's words and on the heat starting to rise in her blood. "They didn't catch him, did they?"

"I'm afraid not, Holly. We almost did, but he escaped just last year and went back to Voldemort."

The simmering in Holly's veins reached a full boil. "He's the one Dumbledore was talking about. He's the one who helped Voldemort get his body back, and he used Harry."

Lupin nodded gravely. "You're quite sharp."

Holly stopped short in front of the store entrance. "He was a traitor to my family. Anybody who does that to a friend deserves to be torn limb from limb. So help me, if I ever come within arms reach of that bloody, rotten . . ."

"Holly, there's nothing you can do about him. Likelihood is, if you ever get that close, it will be too late."

She looked over the rims of her glasses. "You'll find I'm full of surprises." She turned and pushed through the door of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Lupin was at a total loss for words. He shrugged helplessly at Snuffles, who seemed to wholeheartedly approve of Holly's tirade, wagging his tail furiously. Lupin's eyes narrowed. "Oh no you don't. Don't you dare encourage her. If she's anything like Harry, and we know she is, she'll want to go after him, and she's too old for us to stop her."

Snuffles's tail immediately stopped wagging. They quietly followed Holly into the shop. She was already examining the many rows of robes, shelves of shirts, and stacks of slacks. Aside from the three of them, the shop was empty, as the school rush was still several weeks away. Madam Malkin came bustling out from the storage room. "Good day, good day, miss. What may I help you with?"

"Uh . . ." Holly stuttered, looking to Lupin, who simply motioned for her to go ahead. "I pretty much need a full wardrobe."

Madam Malkin's eyes lit up at the prospect of a huge sale. "Ah! Sudden growth spurt? Decided to change your image?" She reached for the measuring tape.

"Actually," Holly said evenly, "I lost all my clothes in a fire."

Madam Malkin appeared aghast. "Oh! My dear! I'm so sorry!" she fussed over Holly, although she didn't exactly seem genuinely sympathetic.

Holly shrugged, not wanting to deal with the hollow pity. "That's the way it goes sometimes. Let's get started, shall we?"

Lupin smiled his approval, but Madam Malkin nodded uncertainly. "Er, yes, let's. Here, you'll be needing a few of the basics no matter what." She began reaching around for other seamstress supplies. "Go on to the dressing room, and I'll be there in a moment to get your measurements and start fitting you with some standard shirts, blouses, and robes." She looked down her nose at the shaggy canine at Holly's feet. "I'm also terribly sorry, but I can not allow dogs in the shop. He'll shed on everything, and you can imagine how hard it would be to clean fur off everything."

Lupin covered his mouth with his hand, trying to hide his amusement, but it didn't work. Snuffles sat bolt upright and the fur on his neck bristled. Before anyone could say anything else, he spun around with a short bark and trotted to the door, tail in the air. He turned the door handle with a paw, and as he disappeared through the opening, he scuffed his hind feet huffily backwards at Madam Malkin.

Madam Malkin raised her chin and continued to look down her nose. "Intersting dog you've got there."

"We're pretty fond of him," Holly winked at Lupin.

"Right, yes," Madam Malkin sniffed, but immediately resumed her professional manner." Now, off to the dressing room with you. Hang your cloak and robes on the hooks provided, and I will be in shortly." She herded Holly to the dressing room door. Lupin called out after her, "Don't worry, Holly. I'll help her pick out some lovely selections."

"Now I am scared!" she said shot back as Madam Malkin shut the door behind her. Holly shook her head and smiled to herself as she began unfastening her cloak. She twirled the rich blue material away from her shoulders and hung it on the hook next to the mirror. She fussed with the buttons of the robe for a moment before freeing her neck from the high collar. She shed the robe completely, leaving her wearing a sleeveless tunic and under-skirt for the fitting. She rubbed her neck with her left hand as she reached out and hung the robe on the second hook. She was just dropping her arm when she caught her reflection in the mirror.

My god, I look like I did when I was seventeen, she mused with some disgust. I look like a girl. Grimacing at her own image, she walked unceremoniously to the mirror and appraised herself. With a flip of her wrist, the remaining strands of her hair were tucked up around the bun at the back of her head, effectively hiding the long hair. A few loose strands dangled back into her face, which she blew away from her mouth irritably. She pulled the glasses off her face and tucked them over the edge of her tunic. She thanked the powers that be that this façade was only temporary.

With her glasses removed, she squinted closely back at her unadorned face. The outline of her cheekbone, the loose clumps of hair falling past her eyebrows were tugging at her memory. The image of her cousin came walking out of her dream and, in her mind, overlaid itself on the real image behind the mirror.

The dream had been too real, and now, knowing who it had been in the dream only made it grab at her more. For some reason, she had felt as though that other face hadn't been merely a figment of her sleeping imagination, but had actually seen her, had stared right back into her own eyes. As though guided by an unseen force, she reached out her hand to touch the reflection's hand, even though this time, it was her own . . .

The door to the dressing room swung open with a thud and Madam Malkin announced her presence boisterously. "Okay, my dear. We have several lovely selections from some of the latest designers, in a wide range of styles. We just need to . . . dear, are you quite alright?"

Holly resembled a deer caught in a car's headlights. She had frozen facing Madam Malkin, with her hands clenched protectively across her chest, feeling insanely as though someone had just intruded on a very private moment. It only took her a second to catch herself, quickly straightening her tunic and slip. "Perfectly okay, you just startled me, that's all." She settled her glasses back on her face and casually rearranged her hair as she talked. "Oh my, those look lovely. Can we try this one first?" she asked, pointed at a deep indigo robe with simple lines and no lace.

The prospect of commencing with the fitting was more than enough to distract Madam Malkin, and she set herself into a flurry of measuring tape, pins, and fabric. All the while, Holly kept looking back at the mirror, letting her mind drift over the many, many questions she still had.

After endless measurements and countless combinations of clothes, Holly finally emerged from the fitting room carrying several overstuffed bags and wearing her favourite selection of the pile. A rich purple tunic and the deepest midnight blue pants were topped by a robe of faintly iridescent indigo. The robe was edged with an emerald green trim. No lace, no frills, and no high collar, it was no wonder the prissy Madam Malkin was not terribly pleased with her choice. "The colours are too dark for you! The cut is too effeminate for your features."

Then it's absolutely perfect, Holly thought to herself. Judging by the approving nod, Lupin thought the same thing. He was waiting for her by the service counter when she got there. "Very nice," he smiled. "It's definitely you. I took the liberty of picking up a couple of the books you'll need from Flourish and Blott's. It might give us some more time down at the Quidditch supply shop." He winked.

"Wonderful! Where are the books?" she asked lightly as she pulled out her money purse. Lupin pointed at his pocket. Holly began to appear confused, but before Lupin could explain, she held up one finger. "Wait, shrinking charm, right?"

"You're catching on." Lupin couldn't completely hide the pride in his voice.

Snuffles was waiting for them outside the shop. He didn't jump at Holly this time. In fact, he seemed rather . . . pleased with himself. It only took them a second to see why. It was easy to make out several sets of claw marks on the paneling below the shop window.

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" Holly scorned. Snuffles winked and barked softly. Holly laughed. "She is rather stuffy, isn't she?"

Lupin cleared his throat, glaring at Sirius. The animagus tilted his head sideways, lifted one ear, and barked again; the picture of innocence. "Snuffles . . ." Lupin warned.

Snuffles stretched lazily, stood, and turned to leave. Suddenly, he stopped short, braced himself on his front paws, and scuffed several large paws full of dirt back at the scratched paneling. Before Lupin could say anything, the black dog had raced off down the street. Lupin tried to look angry, but that only lasted for a moment. He shrugged and motioned towards the café in the direction Snuffles had run. "Would you like to get an ice cream before we get your wand?"

"I never say no to an ice cream." Holly began walking after Snuffles. "Maybe we'll ask for a doggie dish."

Even the ice cream in the wizard world must be better Holly decided firmly as she and Lupin made their way back down the street. Lupin had recommended the mint chocolate chip, but Holly was quite pleased with her selection of chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts. Snuffles had stoutly refused the doggie dish idea, but had then resorted to begging glances at Holly's cone. As the passed by Eeylops Owl Emporium, she gave in to Snuffles's begging so that she could look at the owls more closely.

"Now, you said that these were for mail?" she asked as she stroked the breast of a particularly handsome Great Grey.

Lupin nodded. "Owls are the best mail carriers you could ever want. They can find anyone."

"How do they do that? I mean, birds are exceptional navigators, migration and finding prey in the dark and all, but mail? Owls aren't homing pigeons." She moved along the line of perches as she talked.

"Well," Lupin said in a measured tone, "how do birds navigate at night?"

"They can read star patterns around the North Star. We know that much, but we aren't sure how they navigate on cloudy nights, or other times. Still, yes, the stars."

Lupin smiled. "So, even the simplest birds are rudimentary astrologers."

Holly opened her mouth to protest, but shut it quickly as her eyes widened. "It's magic!"

"Ten points to Gryffindor. And it's just a touch of magic. Birds can sense and read magic like a map or a set of directions, but few species can use or create magic themselves."

Holly looked unconvinced. "So, they can read magic, and they can also read mailing addresses?"

"Ah, that's the secret." Lupin's voice became conspiratorial. "Written words are powerful magic. Names especially, but all written words. They can hold bonds to the things they describe, or power over them. Owls are great at reading that magic." He stroked a short-eared owl, which hooted appreciatively. "Plus, they make fairly good companions. Do you think you would want one?"

"Well . . ." she thought for a moment but before she could consider the matter thoroughly, a large ruff of black feathers landed heavily on her shoulder. "Bram! My god, where have you been?"

The bird clacked noisily at Holly for a moment, the tones definitely shot through with tinges of jealousy, as Lupin looked on. The raven cuffed Holly lightly upside the head with her wing as she squawked. "Okay, okay! I won't get an owl! I didn't know you did mail deliveries. You never brought me anything before."

Bram clacked once more, this time apologetic. Holly laughed and started to speak again when Lupin interrupted. "Wait a minute, you have a pet raven, and you can talk to it? And you're asking me if birds are magic?"

Bram screeched a sharp, indignant note at Lupin and ruffled her feathers. Holly choked a short laugh, then said apologetically, "She, er, told you to watch who you call a pet when your best friend is a sheepdog."

Lupin allowed himself to be amazed for a brief moment before practicality took over. "How long have you known Bram?"

"Oh, as long as I can remember." Holly let her eyes become unfocused as she thought back. "I think my grandmother knew Bram from a long time before I was born, or at least, that's the impression that I get."

Lupin scratched his chin. "Strange. How old is Bram?"

"I don't . . ." Holly was interrupted by a sudden outburst of screeching owls and the yells of the shop owner. A loud bark confirmed her suspicions mere seconds before a large black dog raced out of the shop between Remus and her, and then disappeared into the crowd.

"And stay out, you bloody animal!" the shop owner bellowed as he emerged through a cloud of feathers. He faced Lupin, fuming. "That animal just spooked all my newest fledglings! It'll be hours before they quiet down. Say, that's not your dog, is it?"

"Never seen him before in my life, sir," Lupin said simply. "Terribly sorry about your fledglings." Lupin inclined his head politely and quickly led Holly down the street. When they were out of earshot of the owner, Holly turned on Lupin. "You just lied to that man! Your friend just caused a load of trouble, and you covered for him. You slipped out of the uproar and walked away leaving that man to handle the mess Snuffles left behind. What kind of example do you intend to set?"

Lupin stared at Holly open-mouthed. The last thing he had expected was a lecture from her. "I guess it's the Marauder in me."

Holly dropped her stern expression. "I'm impressed." She winked at him, then scanned the street. "Now, where did Snuffles go?"

"My guess is to Ollivander's. Time to get your wand, Holly. Come on."

The crowd thinned somewhat as they came to the front of the shop. "Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. That's quite a long time." Holly commented on the sign hanging over the shop front. "Except that it's in good repair, the place looks ancient."

Lupin inclined his head towards the wand shop. "It's been there as long as I can remember. I don't think this exact store has been here that long, but it feels as though it has been. Sometimes, I wonder if this is the original Ollivander." He winked at Holly. She hit him lightly on the arm. "That's an awful thing to say! I'm sure he's a nice old man. He can't look that old."

"It's not the appearance that makes me wonder. Ollivander is . . . an interesting man." Lupin pulled open the door. "After you."

Holly took a deep breath, as though anticipating something just beyond her expectations and comprehension, and stepped into Ollivander's wand shop. The door settled softly back into its frame just behind Snuffles's tail, and the noise from the street disappeared. Bram hopped off Holly's shoulder and flapped quietly to perch on the edge of a shelf, tucked out of the way, but watching the whole scene as though thoroughly amused. Dust motes floated through the air, visible in the amber light that trickled through the window. Holly stepped tentatively, feeling as though she shouldn't make any noise. The very air had a funny feel to it. From between two rows of tall shelves, she heard a slight scraping sound. She looked back over her shoulder at Lupin, looking for a hint of what to do next.

"Go on," he whispered.

Holly nodded. "Uh, hello? Is anybody here?"

"Good afternoon." The voice had seemingly come out of nowhere, causing Holly to jump as she spun around. Mr. Ollivander had emerged from between two rows of shelves, carrying a few long thin boxes in the crook of one arm. He had an appearance that would have looked disheveled and unkempt on most anyone else, with grey, frazzled hair standing in every direction and a deeply lined face, but also strange, pale eyes. He greeted them with a polite smile, but the expression didn't exactly comfort Holly. His eyes bothered her.

"Well, well." He appraised her, and for once, she cringed under the scrutiny. "This is unusual."

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander," Lupin greeted the bizarre wizard.

"Ah! Young Remus. Pleasure to see you again. Hickory and dragon heartstring, 10 ¼ inches, resilient and sturdy. Excellent wand for transfiguration and shielding spells, if I remember correctly, and I always do." He peered down at Snuffles and laughed to himself. "And Sirius, I should have known you would be here too. Dogwood and phoenix feather, 12 ¾ inches, rather snappy."

Snuffles raised one ear and widened his eyes in surprise, but barked a polite greeting. By then, Holly was trying to figure out if she was more confused or worried. "What are you talking about?" she asked, trying to interject some confidence into the question. Mr. Ollivander's strange eyes met hers, and she flinched.

"Their wands, of course," he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, and every person to whom I have sold a wand. You, I must say, are something of an enigma, but no bother. You need a wand, do you not?"

Holly nodded dumbly. There was definitely something strange about this man. He was still examining her carefully, she could tell, but what was he looking for?

"I'm not so certain I recognize you," he mumbled, more to himself than to her.

"Oh, sorry," she stammered. "I'm Holly. Holly . . ." She meant to cut herself off, remembering that she was supposed to be in disguise, but Mr. Ollivander beat her to the punch.

"Potter," he said firmly. "I should have seen it sooner. Yes, very curious. I wonder."

She stared at him, watching his eyes, as he mused to himself for a moment. How did he know? What was he thinking about? She had no idea, absolutely no idea . . . that was just it. She had absolutely no idea what he was thinking, or feeling. It was as though she couldn't sense anything behind those eyes. She suppressed a shudder, swallowed, and asked, "Wonder what, Mr. Ollivander?"

He shook his head, suddenly seeming much more light-hearted. "No, never you mind that. Now, which is your wand hand?"

"I'm right-handed, if that's what you mean." Holly was barely able to contain the fact that she was utterly confused now. Mr. Ollivander just nodded and reached behind the service desk, extracting a measuring tape. Snuffles was wagging his tail merrily. "Whuff."

"Why do you look so happy? Enjoying the fact that I haven't a clue what's going on, or just pleased that you haven't been kicked out of the shop yet?" she teased Snuffles as Mr. Ollivander began measuring her hand, then her arm, her wrist, and her forearm. The animagus pawed the ground twice and barked. Holly laughed. "I'll take that to mean both."

Lupin clapped her lightly on her left shoulder to get her attention. "You have fun getting your wand. I'm going to go down to the Apothecary and pick up a few things. Sirius will stay here with you." He lowered his voice. "Besides, it seems to be the only place in town where he hasn't gotten the boot."

Snuffles let out a resentful bark, but Lupin only grinned and turned for the door, waving a quick goodbye to Holly and Mr. Ollivander, and scratching Snuffles on the head as he walked past. The dog appeared to enjoy it momentarily, then caught himself, barking at the insult of the gesture as Lupin opened the shop door. Lupin laughed aloud. "He hates it when I catch him with that." The door swung shut behind him. Snuffles spun in place, then lay down in resignation to watch the process of finding the right wand.

Holly took her attention away from the door and turned to watch Mr. Ollivander as he continued to measure her, but jumped in shock when she realized that Mr. Ollivander was no longer doing the measuring. The measuring tape itself had taken over the job, and had measured her shoulders, her waist, her head, her neck, and was now measuring the width of her foot. It jumped up to measure the length of her earlobe when Holly decided she'd had enough. She grabbed the end of the tape measure as though wringing a person by the neck. "I'd stop that right now if I were you," she hissed at the piece of ribbon.

The tape measure tugged at her hand, trying to free itself. She dropped it, and it shot away between the shelves towards the back of the store. A voice returned along the path the tape measure had taken. "Traumatizing my measuring tape, are you?" Mr. Ollivander emerged from the back of the shop carrying a large armload of boxes.

"I didn't mean, well, I'm sorry," she apologized, turning red in the face. "So, how does this all work? How do you choose the right wand?" she asked, indicating the stack of boxes Mr. Ollivander had placed on the shelf.

"Ah, Miss Potter. The wand chooses the wizard, of course. Let us see here. Aha, alder and phoenix feather, 10 inches. Here." He placed the wand in her hand, but almost immediately snatched it away. "No, no. That won't do. Perhaps this. Hazel and unicorn hair, 13 ½ inches." Once again, the wand was pulled swiftly from her hand.

"Mr. Ollivander, what are you looking for?" she asked.

He grinned almost gleefully. "The right wand, of course," he replied, completely engrossed in his task. "Let's see. Blackthorn and phoenix feather, 11 ¼ inches. No, not at all."

Slowly, the pile of wands on the service counter grew to a small mountain, but Mr. Ollivander didn't seem to mind whatsoever. If anything, he grew more excited with each mismatched wand, speaking softly to himself the whole time. "Hmmm, how fascinating. Walnut and dragon heartstring? Apparently not. All right then, perhaps this . . . no. Curious. You certainly are a mystery. No bother, let's see now."

The search wore on, and soon, although still enthusiastic, Ollivander began to slow down. Finally, he paused altogether and leaned on the counter, staring once again at Holly. She began to feel guilty, as though she were to blame that he had not yet found a wand for her. "Is it my fault? Am I doing something wrong? Maybe I'm just not meant to have a wand."

He shook his head emphatically. "No, Holly. Every witch and wizard is meant for a wand. There just has to be something I'm missing."

An eerie note floated through the room, and Bram landed inelegantly on the service counter next to the stack of wands. Holly laughed at the bird. "Oh, so I suppose you can do better than Mr. Ollivander?"

Bram clacked affirmatively, but before Holly could challenge her, Mr. Ollivander interrupted. "Bram? That's you, isn't it?" The raven stepped one foot backwards and executed a proper bow. "Merlin's beard, what a surprise this is. It's been a very long time, yes, a very long time. It's good to see you again."

"Wait just a minute!" Holly cried. "How can you know Bram?"

"Ah, well you see, this was quite a time ago, but Bram . . . oh my." He tipped his head respectfully to the bird, then looked at Holly strangely. "I believe I may know what Bram is telling us. Just a moment!" He hurried towards the back of his shop. Amongst the shelves, Holly could hear the shuffle of boxes and watched as a cloud of dust began to billow over the corner of the room. Mr. Ollivander began muttering to himself. "It has to be here. It's been here since . . . what on earth is going on? Beech and raven feather, 12 ½ inches. I never sold it, it must be here! I remember every wand I've ever sold." The shuffling of boxes became louder and faster.

Snuffles sat up and looked around the corner of service counter. Holly fidgeted uncertainly. "Mr. Ollivander? What are you looking for?"

"One moment!" he hollered back over the noise of the boxes. "I simply can't understand this." With one final thud and a puff of dust, Mr. Ollivander emerged from between the shelves, covered in dust, scratching his head in confusion. "I have never misplaced a wand in my life."

"What wand was that, if I may ask? And why is it so important?"

Ollivander sat heavily on one of the stools behind the counter, and indicated for Holly to sit across from him. "Every wand has a core of a magical substance. That core, combined with the magical traits of the wood used to construct the wand, are what give the wand its character. That character is what determines the person the wand will choose. Rarely, strange coincidences are involved in that selection. Harry had such a wand, but that coincidence was due to the owner of the one wand that shared a core from the same source. You, on the other hand, happen to walk in with a raven that once gave a feather here which was made into a somewhat unique wand. That wand sat in my shop for quite some time, yes, quite a long time. I had guessed that perhaps that might be the wand destined for you, but the wand is gone."

He stroked his chin and stared at the pile of wands. Suddenly, his expression changed, and his pale eyes narrowed. It appeared that he was thinking furiously, but Holly couldn't sense it. In most people, she could see thoughts welling up behind their eyes like the crashing surf. Ollivander's eyes were a concrete wall, holding back that sea of thought, and blocking it from Holly's view. "That is very strange. Yes, very strange indeed." He looked back up at her. "Still, you need a wand."

Bram hopped twice and clacked furiously, swinging her bill back and forth. Holly narrowed her eyes, trying to decipher the bird's sudden outburst. "What? Feather? Feather! Why didn't I see it before?" She dug her hand deep into the pocket of her mother's cloak and withdrew a single black feather, graced by glints of iridescent purple. "My mother left this for me, along with some of her other personal belongings. I suppose I figured it was Bram's." She held it out uncertainly. "I, er, did some magic with it. Maybe this is supposed to be my wand."

Ollivander looked at the feather, then past it directly at Holly's eyes, but this time, she forced herself not to flinch. "Your mother left this for you." It was not a question, nor a simple repetition of her words. "You have a very unique mother, it would seem. It also would seem that you have inherited those unique traits. Unless I miss my guess, the witches of your bloodline are quite powerful. Yes, quite powerful." He reached out and took the feather from Holly's outstretched hand and examined it carefully. "I can make you a proper wand out of this. The core chooses the wood as much as the finished wand chooses the wizard. This wand will construct itself for you."

He put the feather down next to the pile of wands, not removing his eyes from Holly's. He leaned over so that his face seemed uncomfortably close to hers. "The qualities common to your family history have brought you to a unique position, as they have done to Harry. I can give you this advice. The power that is bound to your family has, in the past, done great things. Good things and terrible things alike, but great. The potential is still there for either. A wand tells many things about the person who wields it." He sat back. "Your wand will be ready in about a week. I will send notice when it is complete. Good luck, Miss Potter."

Holly left Ollivander's still feeling slightly confused and extremely unsettled. She didn't know where to begin as she tried to make sense of everything that had transpired. Snuffles padded along next to her as she wandered back into the chaotic tide of the crowd in Diagon Alley. He tugged the corner of her robes, and began leading her in the direction of the Apothecary. Holly let him lead. As fantastic as Diagon Alley was, the events in Ollivander's wand shop had ruined her appetite for the setting. She needed to sit quietly and make sense out of all this mess, if such a thing were possible.

What were the terrible things that could possibly have been attributed to traits of her family? If Ollivander remembered every wand he ever sold, then why was this particular wand missing if he insisted he had never sold it? How did he know Bram? Lupin might have answers. He seemed to know a lot, and he had been a professor. Perhaps she would get a chance to ask Dumbledore. Yes, that was it. Dumbledore seemed to know everything, and this was the perfect thing to bring to him at the first opportunity. Holly was still wrapped in her thoughts when she saw the sign for the apothecary down at the far end Diagon Alley, in a less crowded section of the street. As the crowded thinned to almost nothing, she finally saw Lupin standing in front of the Apothecary, engaged in what appeared to be an intense conversation with an elaborately dressed man.

"Hey, Re . . ." she began to call out, but Snuffles had grabbed the edge of her cloak and had pulled her sharply into the small alley between the apothecary and the next store. "What's wrong with you, Snuffles?" she hissed. He was blocking her in tightly against the side of the building, and a low growl was building deep in his throat. Every strand of fur on his back was standing on end. Holly immediately realized that whatever was going on, this was not time for games. Whoever that man was, he was dangerous. Cold and sharp as a razor, she felt the edge of the man's mind. It was ruthless, malicious, evil. It was the mind of a Death Eater.

"Sirius," she whispered, speaking each word slowly and deliberately. "Let me see." Sirius hesitated, but backed off. Holly stayed low to the ground and cautiously peeked around the corner of the building.

The man's back was towards her. He carried an ornate cane, and silvery- blonde hair hung long and thick from his head. "Really now, Lupin." The voice was oily and poisonous. "Do you honestly believe that Dumbledore will be able to maintain his hold of the public's loyalty? He has allowed one disaster after another at what was once a fine school of magic. People fear for the safety of their children. Now, he's preaching about the Dark Lord. Dangerous idea, is it not?"

"You think far too highly of yourself." Lupin's eyes appeared hooded and his voice was dark as he growled a low response. Holly had to strain to hear him. "Do you figure you should have the public's loyalty instead? Thinking of taking over the Ministry yourself, Malfoy?"

"Somebody has to keep the magical community in line." Malfoy sneered. "The real magical community, not the dregs. People are simple-minded and fearful. They'll be looking for strong leaders who can demonstrate control in these dark times. So simple."

"I suppose you believe it will be as simple to override Dumbledore's influence and control."

"Dumbledore has no control." He laughed smugly and thudded the butt of his cane on the ground for emphasis, completely deserting any pretense of being uninvolved with Voldemort. "He does not control the fate of the Ministry, or the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord has been ready for the fall of the Ministry for a long time, werewolf. His servants are ready.

"And where are his servants, Malfoy?" Lupin took a small, threatening step towards Malfoy. Holly had to allow herself a touch of awe for Lupin. Malfoy's demeanor and stature could have easily dominated the smaller, more simply-clad wizard, but apparently there was much more to Lupin than met the eye.

"In places you can't touch and places you would never expect." Malfoy tipped his head back and wrinkled his nose up. "Wouldn't you love to know his new stronghold."

"There's no better stronghold in Britain than Hogwarts. Voldemort will never take it, you know as well as I do, you just can't admit it." Lupin allowed himself a vague smile. "How embarrassing it must be. Your sovereign of Dark magic can't even penetrate the barriers of a school. Not as long as Dumbledore is there, and Voldemort still doesn't dare to face Dumbledore himself."

"You really think so? It's almost pitiful. Dumbledore, the most renowned wizard of the century, is spending his time playing nursemaid to a school full of mudbloods. He may soon find that even Hogwarts is beyond his control."

It took every shred of control Lupin had to keep from visibly blanching at that thought. Instead, he tried for an undercut. "You love to gloat, don't you? Be careful what you tell me, Malfoy. What would the community think if they knew every word of this conversation?" He folded his arms together, casually slipping his hand up his sleeve and brushing his fingers against the handle of his wand.

"As if they would take the word of a werewolf over my word. Oh, that's a fine thought. You, a werewolf, in your tattered excuse for a robe, having to sell your family's heirlooms to survive, convince the public to turn against the Malfoy name? The number of galleons we've given to St. Mungo's and other lovely little charities would cause even the most discerning wizard to feel . . . kindly towards us. The parents of your own students would have killed you themselves rather than let you continue to teach their children once they found out. They certainly won't believe a single accusation you could bring against me."

"Oh, the public doesn't need to hear it from me." Lupin's eyes burned as he spoke. "The facts speak for themselves. Ink and parchment are powerful allies in the right hands, aren't they?"

Malfoy took a half step backwards, momentarily speechless. Slowly, his expression shifted, eyebrows lowering and mouth turning sharply downwards into a venomous scowl. "Watch where you meddle, Lupin. Things can happen to people who know too much. You wouldn't want to end up like the Longbottoms."

With that, Lucius Malfoy brushed past Lupin and retreated quickly down a dark alley near the end of the street. Lupin turned in place and held his ground as he watched Malfoy's departure. When the dark wizard was finally out of sight, Holly could see Lupin's shoulders slump as he let out a deep breath. He took a shaky step to a street bench and leaned heavily against it, closed his eyes and tipped his head forward into his hands. Holly was suddenly aware of how much emotion he had bottled up during the course of that exchange.

She tore from her hiding place beside the Apothecary and ran to Lupin, Snuffles right on her heel. Lupin opened his eyes and looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps. "Holly? What were you doing hiding back there?"

"Never mind me," she said in a rush. "I finished at Ollivander's and came looking for you. Who the hell was that?"

Lupin let out a deep sigh. "Lucius Malfoy. He's someone who might cause a lot of trouble for us in upcoming weeks and months, as if he hasn't already caused enough trouble."

"He's a Death Eater." There was no question in Holly's voice. Lupin appeared momentarily surprised by the bold statement, but realized quickly that he would have to learn to expect such things. He looked at her, his face tight, but finally, he nodded.

"We know that, but not everyone does. In fact, most people have no idea. His name was cleared a long time ago, but we discovered for certain last spring that he is still quite involved with Voldemort."

Holly searched Lupin's face. "Why do you always avoid detail when it has to do with Harry? He was the one who discovered it, isn't he?"

Lupin dropped his head again, out of resignation but now also from a sorrow that was gnawing at the corners of his being. He swallowed against the tightness that was growing in his throat and nodded. "Can't put a thing past you, can we?"

"Why would you want to?" She rested one hand softly on his shoulder. "It's ok. I know Dumbledore doesn't want me to know everything yet, and I'll trust that there's a good reason."

Lupin finally raised his head and gave her a weak smile of pure gratitude. "That makes my job a lot easier."

"Just don't be so hard on yourself, ok? Don't let Malfoy get to you."

"Why do you say that? It's not so easy."

She smiled at him. "It seems it could be. Trust yourself, and keep fighting him and the rest of them. Pure courage can't be destroyed, you said that yourself. As long as you don't let him get to you, as long as you don't allow yourself to fear him, then he can't really win, can he?"

Lupin finally let himself return the smile properly, but his posture remained tense. "You're almost too good of a student, throwing the lesson back at the professor." He stood, casting a cautious glance over his shoulder, paying particular attention to the dark alley where Malfoy had disappeared. "I've got the potions supplies. We've done enough shopping for today. I think now is a good time to get out of here."

The trio left the isolated corner of the street near the Apothecary and slipped back into the ebb and flow of the human tide of Diagon Alley.

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A/N: I'd like to say hello and thank you to all the new readers. Welcome aboard! I regret to say that it'll probably be a bit over a week before I can get the next section complete. I'm in the middle of final exams at my university, and I'm being thoroughly flattened. Believe me, I'd rather be working on the story than studying, but responsibilities first, right? I'll get it out as soon as I can.

As always, please drop me a review so that I can get an idea of how I'm doing. Reviews are awesome, feedback is great, CONSTRUCTIVE criticism is helpful, and I appreciate you taking the time to do any of those. I look forward to each one. Remember to leave your e-mail if you want me to reply. This is a learning process for me . . . I've never written something like this before.

To those who wish to follow me as a writer, I have plans for two future fanfics in the works. I'm still debating whether to make the Potter Legacy last one year, or all three. The jury is still out on that decision. Even one year will probably be over 200,000 words long, so think about the commitment I'd be getting into. I DO plan to keep writing no matter what though. I don't think I could quit if I wanted to.