I am writing this story about my friends, as if we were to attend Hogwarts. So that I don't have to maintiain a running list in one chapter of all the characters, I'll simply list the characters before the chapter in which they are first introduced. If you wish to be featured in this story, please review and tell me your character's name, your preferred Hogwart's house, whether or not your parents were a witch and wizard and if so, their houses, and a short physical description and some personality traits of your character. Also, tell me your character's best and worst subjects and the name, house, and age of any siblings (no more twins, please). I'll consider putting you in my story. My character's name is Alice Bint. She is NOT modeled after me.

Characters introduced in this chapter: Real life friend: Anna - Leslie Loligo; Internet friends:Mat - Josef Wynnsgard, mosaloca - Ava Mizar Borboa

Counting Wands

Alice tried to contain her excitement, but she felt as if it were bubbling out of her ears, beyond her control. She took a handful of Floo powder from her mother, losing nearly half of it on the floor as she neared their fireplace.

"Alice!" scolded her mother. "What do you think you're doing? You don't need that much!"

Alice quickly put her hand over the pot where her family kept their Floo powder and rubbed her fingers back and forth, letting most of the powder in her hand drop back into the pot. As she stepped into their dead fireplace, she noticed that her mother had already dealt with the Floo powder that had been spilt across the floor.

Alice raised her hand and then let it fall, dropping the Floo powder around her feet. "Diagon Alley!" she yelled, the words clear and precise despite her excitement. Green flames engulfed her, shooting well above her head. The next thing she knew, she was spinning very quickly. It used to make her sick to her stomach to travel with Floo powder when she was younger, but she had gotten used to it. She kept her eyes open, though squinted slightly, and her elbows remained tucked into her sides. Fireplaces flashed by at a high speed, but she wasn't concerned with any of them. Then, very suddenly, she slowed to a halt. She almost tumbled out of the familiar fireplace, but regained her footing and her dignity. Well, her dignity couldn't be completely regained yet. Soot was sprinkled in her hair and on her clothing. She took out a handkerchief and began to run it over her face, getting the worst of the ash off. She stood to the side of the fireplace, waiting for her mother.

Not long after, the woman came walking out of the fireplace, completely unphased by this peculiar form of transport. "Scorfigy!" she said, pointing her wand at herself and then at her eleven year old daughter. "Come Alice, there's only a few more things you need."

Alice followed her mother into the sunshine of Diagon Alley. She'd been here countless times before, but never at this time of year. Her parents always said that Diagon Alley was too busy and crowded in August, when Hogwarts students were buying their school supplies. But now Alice was a Hogwarts student too. Still, she hadn't been given the opportunity to get all of her supplies. Her mother had gone to buy the bulk of her school supplies a week ago when her acceptance letter arrived from Hogwarts. All Alice was here for today were the things her mother couldn't get without her: new robes and a wand.

Alice stayed close to her mother as they made their way across the crowded street. She walked into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and was directed to the side of the store where she stood upon a stool, letting a young witch pin up the long robe that had been draped over her head. There were two other people getting fitted for robes and they looked about Alice's age.

"Hello," said the girl as Alice was instructed to hold her arms out to the side. "Are you going to be a first year too?"

"Yes," said Alice, taking a liking to this girl right away. "My name's Alice. What's yours?'

"Leslie," said the girl. She had curly, dirty blond hair and piercing blue eyes. She was about half a head taller than Alice, and Alice didn't really think of herself as short. "His name's Josef," said Leslie, moving her head toward the boy's direction.

"Please don't move," said the witch pinning up Leslie's robes.

Leslie sighed in obvious annoyance.

"Hello," said Josef. The direction Alice was facing, she could barely see him out of the corner of her eye. Slowly, she turned her head so that she could get a good look at him. He, too, was taller than Alice, but she couldn't tell if he were taller than Leslie or not. He was thin and the wizard pinning his robes was working at making the robes closer fitting. Alice glanced down at herself. She wasn't exactly fat, but she knew that her robes would not be taken in in the sides, just brought up so that they weren't too long. "Isn't this exciting?" asked Josef.

"Yeah," said Alice, looking back up at him. He had brown hair and eyes and wore glasses. The best thing about his face though, was the big smile he wore. Alice felt instantly that they would be good friends. "It is exciting," she said. "Of course, I always knew this day would come. My parents are both a witch and wizard and my father's family have been wizards for as far back as we can remember."

"Really?" asked Leslie, squinting her eyes at Alice. "What about your mother's family?"

Alice was taken aback by this and by the look in Leslie's eyes.

"You're done," said the witch who had been pinning up Leslie's robes and was now helping her out of them.

"Leslie, we need to get your books now," said a man near the door. A woman who looked like a much older Leslie stood beside him. Another girl who had been sitting on the floor jumped up and wiped off her rear end with the back of a hand. She must be Leslie's older sister, though she looked much more bored than the other three members of her family.

"I guess I'll be seeing you at Hogwarts," said Leslie to Josef and Alice. "Maybe we'll be in the same house." She flashed a quick, but lovely, smile and followed her parents and older sister out of the shop.

"And I wonder what house she'll be in," muttered the woman who was now holding her robe, full of pins. She shook her head and took the robe to the back where it would be used to make new robes for Leslie to pick up later.

"That was … odd," said Josef. "I wonder why she asked that about your mother. We weren't talking about such things before you came."

Alice looked over at him to see that he truly looked concerned. "I don't know," said Alice. "My mother's parents are muggles, but I don't think there's anything wrong with that."

Josef shook his head. "Nothing wrong with that at all. My parents are muggles. My grandmother was a witch though."

Alice would have loved to speak longer with him, but now he was done too and he left with his parents, waving at Alice warmly before exiting the shop. More people walked into the shop as he left. A father and his daughter. The girl had wavy brown hair and friendly brown eyes. "Hi!" she said as she jumped onto the stool Leslie had used.

"Hello," said Alice. "My name's Alice. Are you going to be a first year? I am."

"Me too," said the girl. "My name's Ava." Ava was about to move to shake Alice's hand, but was quickly put into line by an old wizard who was trying to get a robe over her head. Ava giggled at the whole thing and stayed still. Just then, Alice's robe was finished and she said bye to Ava, promising to see her at Hogwarts.

"Did you make some new friends?" asked her mother as Alice stepped out behind her into the busy street.

"I think so," said Alice. "Where to next?" Alice knew where they were going next, but she wanted her hear her mother say it anyway.

"Now you get a wand Alice."

The excitement that had filled her earlier came back. Of course, Alice had been looking through her books and had tried on her dragon hide gloves and had set out her crystal phials and brass scales to admire over the last week, but what she really wanted was a wand. It wasn't soon enough when they reached an old shop with a sign over it which read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

Stepping inside the small, dusty shop, she immediately felt disappointed. Had she expected fireworks and fanfare? She had spoken of owning her own wand so much over the last year that it felt unreal to be standing in this shop, but it didn't feel as, as what? thought Alice. As … magical as she had expected.

"Ah, Miss Alice Bint!" said an old man with huge eyes, coming forward. "And Mrs. Elizabeth Bint! Holly and unicorn hair. Eigth inches. Am I right?"

"Yes," said Mrs. Bint. She didn't seem surprised that this man's memory was so good. It took a while for Alice to realize that her mouth was open. She quickly shut it. How does he know who I am? she wondered. Does he have a list of all the first year students?

"And your husband," continued Mr. Ollivander, still talking with Alice's mother. "Nine and three-quarter inches. Ebony. Phoenix tail feather."

"Yes, I believe that's correct," said Mrs. Bint.

"Now we just need to find a wand for you, Alice," said Mr. Ollivander, turning his unblinking eyes on her. She shifted slightly under his gaze but overcame her shyness when he turned away from her and selected a wand. "No two Ollivander wands are the same," he said, holding out the wand for Alice to grab. "Phoenix tail feather and yew. Seven and a quarter inches."

Alice had barely touched the wand before Mr. Ollivander put it back in its box and selected a new one.

"That's one," said Alice's mother, her eyes twinkling in the dark shop. Alice smiled. They had spoken about this before coming to Diagon Alley.

"Buying a wand is an experience you'll never forget," her mother had said. "It's unique and different and special for each young witch and wizard. I can still remember when I got my wand. My mother and father were with me. They didn't know what it was going to be like and were all jumpy at the flashiness of Diagon Alley. I still remember that it took me seven tries before I found the wand for me. You should count how many tries it takes you. Your father can't even remember; he just knows that it didn't take too long."

It was good for Alice to have her mother with her. "Dragon heartstring. Oak. Nine and a half inches," said Mr. Ollivander, holding out a new wand. Alice took it in her hand. She wasn't holding it for long though.

"Two," said Alice's mother.

Mr. Ollivander continued presenting more wands for Alice. Most of them he snatched away after she laid one finger on them. After wand sixteen, he went into the back of his shop.

"You don't need to keep counting aloud mother," said Alice. "I can keep count in my head."

Mr. Ollivander came out of the back of his shop, holding a large bundle of different wands. He continued to tell her the properties of each wand before holding it out to her, but after wand thirty-one, Alice stopped paying attention to what he was saying. Really, she didn't know how he kept track of it all. There weren't any labels on the boxes that she could understand.

It wasn't until wand fifty-eight that Alice started to worry. Shouldn't she have found her wand by now? Mr. Ollivander had a lot of practice fitting the wand to the wizard. Didn't he know which wand he should place into her hand? As she reached out to touch the next wand, it wasn't surprising to see Mr. Ollivander slip it back into its box.

Am I a squib? Alice thought, slightly panicked. I wouldn't have been accepted into Hogwarts if I weren't a witch! She put her hand around wand number sixty. It wasn't the wand for her either.

"Don't worry," said Mr. Ollivander. "I've had to make harder matches than this before. There's a wand here for you somewhere. We'll find it."

He disappeared into the back of his shop again, only to remerge a few minutes later, carrying so many wands he could barely see above them. With a swiftness that startled Alice, he opened many boxed, setting them all in a row. One after another, he held wands out to Alice, pronouncing the properties of each in a clear voice. Gingerly, she continued to wrap her fingers around wand after wand. Nothing ever happened as she touched each wand, and each one was put back in its respective box. Somewhere around wand ninety-three, Alice's mother placed a hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear that the robes should be ready now and she was just going to go pick them up. Alice nodded and reached out for a seven and a half inch wand made out of a nearly white wood.

Now Alice was all alone in the shop with Mr. Ollivander. While she was reaching for new wands, she barely perceived her mother's absence, but each time Mr. Ollivander tottered back into the depths of his shop under a load of wands, Alice would look around the shop, feeling very alone. Wand one hundred came and went, and it seemed like no time at all before the number "one hundred and fifty" rang in Alice's head. She wanted to cry, but felt unable to.

Despite the sickening knot which was forming and quickly taking over her stomach, Alice continued to count. As she lightly held wand one hundred and seventy-one, she couldn't help but think, Is this ever going to end? Even worse than the knot in her stomach or the fact that her mother was taking forever to pick up a few robes was that Mr. Ollivander looked like he were getting excited. He had become so jumpy that it seemed that gravity was having a hard time keeping his feet on the ground. While Alice wasn't sure the curve of his mouth could be called a smile, it was obviously being caused by some weird streak of happiness running through him. What was he so happy about? Why hadn't he found her wand yet?

Mr. Ollivander placed a very long and slender wand into Alice's hand, the last wand out of this group. One hundred and seventy-nine, thought Alice. She offered the wand back to Mr. Ollivander immediately after she had taken hold of it. He placed it back in its box and began to stack up all of the boxes to take them away again. He turned and left her, nearly skipping from the room. Alice sighed deeply. She felt very disturbed by his behavior.

Alice couldn't hear Mr. Ollivander moving around in the back. It took her only a second to realize that every other time he had left her, she'd been able to hear him moving boxes. Now she could hear nothing. She strained her ears, but Mr. Ollivander had become as quiet as a ghost. He was also taking much longer than he had before. Just when she was thinking that she should check to make sure he was alright, she heard his footsteps. He was coming back.

Alice stared at the boxes he held. Her mouth was hanging open again. She knew that she was being rude, but it took her a while to figure out how to close it. These boxes were huge!

"I haven't sold one of these wands in eight years," pronounced Mr. Ollivander. "Most witches and wizards are fine with average sized wands made out of the normal wand woods with a core of either dragon heartstring, unicorn hair, or a phoenix tail feather. It seems to me, Miss Bint, that you aren't most witches and wizards." He opened up the first box. "Redwood. Centaur hair. Fourteen inches."

Alice's hand shook as she took up the large wand. She nearly dropped it, surprised at how different the extra inches made the wand feel. She was so in awe of the wand that she barely noticed when it was taken away from her and replaced with an even larger wand. A second later, she realized that she had forgotten to count. One hundred and eighty-one, she thought, giving the second over-sized wand back to Mr. Ollivander.

Alice was no longer bored by the description of each wand placed in her waiting hand nor was she frantically trying to banish the thought, Am I a squib? She'd never heard of such exotic wands before in her life. Most of all, the various wand cores excited her. At one moment, she held a wand with a griffin feather, then merpeople hair, basilisk scales, fairy wings, and even a wand with sphinx fur. Each wand was over a foot in length, though after wand two hundred and thirty, it began to feel natural for the wands to be so long.

It came as a shock to her when Mr. Ollivander quickly changed tactics. He returned from the back of his shop (way, way, in the back, if the lack of noise indicated anything), carrying more boxes than he had ever brought out to Alice at one time. These weren't the over-sized wands that he had been showing to Alice lately though. These wands were tiny!

"Four inches. Mesquite. Mooncalf fur." said Mr. Ollivander. Alice took hold of the wand. It seemed to disappear in her hand, the tip of it barely sticking out in the open. It felt so brittle that she was afraid she'd break it. Mr. Ollivander held out his hand for her to return it instead of just snatching it back as he had many of the other wands.

The door of the shop opened. Alice turned around to see who it was. Her mother beamed at her, holding more bags than a few robes would need. "Still trying out wands?" she asked. She didn't seem surprised. Alice nodded, trying to see what was in the bags her mother held.

"Doxy wings and palm. Four and a half inches," said Mr. Ollivander, regaining Alice's attention.

"Four and a half inches!" asked her mother, hurrying to her side. "Surely that's too small!"

Alice grabbed the wand at the bottom with three fingers. It seemed like a better way of holding such a small wand than wrapping her whole hand around it. Two hundred and thirty-five, thought Alice, ignoring her mother's question. She'd never heard of a wand so small either, but if this wand choose her, she'd gladly take it. Mr. Ollivander took the wand back.

Alice began to scan the multitude of tiny boxes before her, wondering what number she'd be on when Mr. Ollivander made another trip back into his shop. She didn't hear the properties of the next wand as it was placed in her hand. The wand pulsed under her fingers. Alice yelped and dropped it, but Mr. Ollivander's hand was already reaching out and he caught it in midair. "This is it!" he said. "Five inches. Diricawl feather. Poplar." Alice felt like her heart had stopped. This is it? she thought, unbelieving. She'd never even heard of a diricawl before, but right now she didn't care. Her wand had finally found her!

"Nine Galleons and eight Sickles," said Mr. Ollivander, but Alice didn't even hear him. She didn't see the ruffled way her mother paid either, due to the high price. She couldn't take her eyes off her wand. Her wand! Two hundred and thirty-six! Her wand!