CHAPTER THREE
Hey guys, I'm back again! Thank you to DandN and KHStennis01 my first two reviewers! I'll try to make u guys proud! Without further ado (?) my third segment, chapter, w/e!
"What's the matter with you two?"
We were walking down the street (slowly) and eating our ice-creams.
"Nothing," Harry lied. To you maybe…
"We meet some nasty little," I cut myself off before saying anything…rude. "Person in the store."
Hagrid nodded to show that he was listening. So I continued.
"At first he was kinda okay, but then he just turned into this--"
"Really rude person," Harry cut in.
"Yeah, and he was making cracks about Hufflepuffs and stuff, and I was okay with that, you know? But then he starts going on about muggle-borns." And Harry and I explained the entire story.
"Oh," said Hagrid, with a sudden air of understanding. "Yeh'll meet people like tha' yeh know. It doesn't mean anything! People who talk like tha' aren' worth listenin' too."
"I know, it's just…I mean I'm new enough to all this as it is but…"
"You're new? At least you understood the conversation!"
That made me blush a little I'll admit. "I'm sorry, Harry, it's just…when I get mad…" I couldn't continue on. I didn't know what else to say.
We didn't talk about it again until after we had made some stops. Sure, we've all heard about the ink that changes colors as you write, but I also found parchment that matched the colors of the ink, unless you held it in the right light. There were all sorts of colors to choose from too: sky blue, midnight blue, purple-blue, robin's egg blue, cherry red, apple red, apple green, apple yellow, etc. I bought black though (more traditional). When we left the shop, we got back to the subject of the conversation with dear old Draco.
"Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"
"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know – not knowin' about Quidditch!"
"Don't make me feel worse." I couldn't help but feel a tiny bit guilty for that.
"But if he'd known who yeh both were, or at least who you were Harry, he's grown up knowin' yer name."
"So what is Quidditch?" Harry persisted.
"It's our sport; wizard sport. Played on brooms. Like soccer in the muggle world – everyone follows Quidditch. There are four balls, played in the air. It's sorta hard ter explain." Hagrid glanced at me as though expecting me to suddenly answer all these questions. Think I'll let Ron tackle this one… I shook my head.
"That's pretty much all I know." Lie. Lie. Lie.
"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw and Gryffindor?"
"Those are the four houses," I said.
"Everyone says that Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but--"
"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Harry sadly.
"I wouldn't put a ton of money on that one, Harry." I said smiling.
"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin, anyways," Hagrid growled. "There's not a single witch or wizard tha' went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one o' them."
"Vol- sorry, I mean You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"
"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.
We stopped at Flourish and Blotts next. We went through the book store, looking at everything from the size of postage stamps to the size of a poster board (the kind you do a presentation on for school).
"Wow," said Harry, stopping to look at one book. It was Curses and Counter-curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges" Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying, and Much, Much, More)
"That would come in handy…" I said, smiling sweetly at Hagrid.
"Don' even think about it." Said Hagrid, with a tone of warning in his voice.
"But I wanted to find a good hex for Dudley!"
"And I wanted something for that little..."
"Now, I'm not saying that hexing Dudley would be a bad idea, but yer not allowed to use magic outside o' school. And I don' know about hexing that other kid, either."
Next we went for our cauldrons and scales. Hagrid didn't let Harry get a gold cauldron. I guess he didn't want him wasting his money, or showing off or something stupid like that. Next we went to the Apothecary, which stank worse than the combination of dead skunk and other various road kill. I couldn't look at the shelves; jars of slimy looking dead things and claws and the scent all together made my stomach churn.
"All that we've got left is yer wands," said Hagrid, checking the list one final time. "Oh, an' I still haven't gotten yeh a birthday present."
"You don't have to," said Harry, brightening up at once.
"I know I don' have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed outta the castle – an' cats make me sneeze/ I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful. Carry yer mail an' everythin'."
Eeylops Owl Emporium was full of dark, jewel-like eyes. I practically stuck to Harry; I hate birds. There were all sorts of owls in there, but one of them really stuck out. She was beautiful, stuck right between two black colored owls, the snowy stuck out. We left, carrying one extra in toe.
Harry sounded like Professor Quirrell had in the Leaky Cauldron, when the entire pub had come over to shake hands with Harry. And finally, we were going to get our wands. The big moment; the time when we really start this whole magic business. It gave me shivers just to think about it.
The shop was dusty and quite. It had that old person's house smell to it. There were shelves and stacks of narrow boxes that cluttered the place. Rows of shelving lined the walls and created narrow hallways along the stores interior. There was suddenly a clicking sound and a ladder came sliding into view. Upon it, a frizzy, white-haired man. He smiled, giving his wrinkled face an air of understanding.
"Good afternoon," his voice was sort of raspy, and very, very quite.
"Hello," muttered Harry.
I just smiled. Mr. Ollivander's entrance spooked me a little bit.
"Ah, yes," he had noticed the scar on Harry's forehead. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Mr. Potter. You have your mother's eyes." He was quite observant. "It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." How many wands could he possibly remember?
Ollivander took a step closer to Harry, and I sort of moved behind Harry. Ollivander seemed nice, but his appearance suggested that he was more…creepy…than he let on. His silvery eyes were now boring into Harry's bright green ones.
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." HA! In your face Malfoy! "And that's where," Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar with a long white finger. "I'm so sorry to say that I sold the wand that did it. Thirteen-and-a-half inches, yew. A very powerful wand in the wrong hands…if I had known what that wand was setting out to do…" Mr. Ollivander shook his head and backed away some. When he looked up, he finally saw Hagrid.
"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again….Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"
"It was sir, yes,"
"Good wand, that one." His voice turned slightly stern. "But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?"
"Er – yes, sir, they did." Hagrid blushed a little underneath his whiskers. "I kept the pieces though," he added brightly.
"But you don't use the pieces do you?"
"Oh, no, sir, o' course not." Hagrid said quickly.
"Hmm…," Ollivander stared at Hagrid a moment longer before taking notice of me. "And who might you be, young lady?"
"Kailey Macauley," I answered, sheepishly.
"Well, ladies first then," I knew he was going to say that.
He took out the tape measure and we began. "Your wand arm?"
I held out my right arm. He measured me shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, followed by shoulder to floor and knee to armpit. As he did this he was saying, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of powerful magical substance." He was speaking to both of us. "We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two wands are alike, just as no two wizards, witches, dragons, unicorns, etc. are alike. You will never get such good results as you will with your own wand than as with another wizard's wand. That will do." The tape measure dropped to the floor, and I rubbed my nose, where it had been measuring between my nostrils.
"Right, Ms. Macauley, try this one." He said, handing me a wand. "Maple, unicorn hair, eight-and-a-half inches, and very springy. Give it a wave."
I waved it; though I already had a feeling this would be the one. My fingers had a warm sensation running through them. Blue and silver sparks came shooting out the end, shaping themselves to look like mini stars. It was incredible.
"Perfect. Ms. Macauley, now I don't remember that last name. What was your mother's maiden name?"
"Oh, umm, I'm a muggle-born, sir." I said quickly.
"Ahh…well then that would explain it," said Mr. Ollivander, nodding. "Well, that'll be seven gold Galleons." I paid and Mr. Ollivander said, "Now on to Mr. Potter."
After measuring, Mr. Ollivander went to the back to find a wand. He came back saying, "Beachwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible." Harry waved it. Nothing happened. "All right, try this one. Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy," Harry had barely raised his hand when Ollivander snatched it back, going to get another wand. "No, here – ebony, and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, try it," This process continued endlessly. I had a feeling that the only wand in the shop that Harry hadn't tried was my own. This didn't seem to faze Ollivander in the least; he was becoming quite giddy by now.
"Tricky customer, eh? Now hold on a moment – ah yes," he said, pulling a thin, dusty box down from a shelf. "I wonder, now --- why not? – Unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."
Harry took the wand and raised it above his head. He brought it down in a great sweeping motion and out came a stream of red and gold sparks. Hagrid whooped and clapped, and I said, "Well, I hope you like it, you were so picky!" smiling.
Mr. Ollivander cried out, "Bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well… how curious… how very curious…"
"Umm…sorry, but, what's curious?" said Harry.
Ollivander turned on the spot to fix Harry with his silver-eyed stare.
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single one. And it so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just one other. Yew, thirteen-and-a-half inches. It is curious how these things happen, for your wands brother, well; its brother gave you that scar." Ollivander paused for a short breath here. Harry's face was white, very white. "The wand chooses the wizard, remember….I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter, after all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things." Ollivander was at a mysterious whisper now, "Terrible," he shook out suddenly, causing the owl to give a sudden hoot, "but great." Talk about no pressure…
Alrighty then, that's all she wrote! (For now!) I'm hoping to get the fourth chapter up ASAP! It could take some time though; I'm going away for a week… I hope that you were all able to stay awake for this chapter! And again, no emails (I won't end up receiving them anyway!) reviews are always welcome; just don't be too harsh, kk? Thnx again:-D
