Chapter 2—Visiting Diagon Alley
Ryan was more than curious about her new surroundings. The place was dim and somewhat decrepit-looking, and a few people—witches and wizards!—sat around smoking or drinking. Fighting the urge to stare, she made her way to the bar.
"Excuse me?" A man, a withered, balding bartender, poked his head over the bar and smiled, revealing more than a few missing teeth.
"Hello there, miss. How can I help you kids?" She looked down and realized that Jon must have escaped their mother's grasp, because he was standing right next to her, eyes as wide as they would go.
"Yes, I'm looking for Tom. It says here in this letter, you see…" She fished it out of her pocket and held it up to him.
"Well, you're looking at him! Hogwarts, then, miss?" Ryan could have done cartwheels, then and there. It was real!
"Yes! I'm going to Hogwarts! I'm going to be a real witch and everything!" Tom walked around and out of the bar area.
"You most certainly are, my dear. Excellent! You must be their mother. I'm Tom, the bartender here. I'll get you into Diagon Alley, show you around. That's my job, you know, to help the Muggle-born children prepare for school."
"Muggle? What's that, sir?" asked Jon curiously. Tom led them out through the back of the pub and into a deserted courtyard.
"A Muggle is one like your mum there, a person who isn't a witch or wizard."
"Am I a Muggle?" asked Jon fearfully. Tom winked broadly.
"You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?" There were a few wilted weeds, a dustbin, and a blank brick wall facing them. Ryan's eyes widened in delight as Tom pulled out a real wand and tapped a brick on the wall. In seconds a gateway opened, and an amazing sight greeted her eyes.
It was a crooked lane, packed to the brim with cloaked wizards, exclaiming over the items in shop windows. The shops themselves were fascinating. It looked as though someone had haphazardly shoved them there: apothecary, astronomy supplies, a bookstore called Flourish and Blotts, and more…
Tom lead them through the throng to a tall white marble building, severely out of place amongst all the other shops, called Gringotts.
"This here's your wizard bank!" said Tom over the din of humanity, "You'll be wanting to exchange your Muggle money for wizard money here. Now then, we have Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts. 17 Sickles to a Galleon, 29 Knuts to a Sickle. Got all that?" Ryan nodded until her neck hurt. "Good. Come on, then." Directly inside the main enterance were a pair of humongous doors, they looked silver, with something written on them. Ryan, in her state of excitement, had gone beyond the ability to read it. When they walked inside these doors, however, her mother nearly fainted as they received yet another shock.
"What are they?" asked Jon in fascination, indicating the small, grotesque figures swarming around. Tom cackled gleefully.
"Those are goblins, sir! Tricky little fellows, they are, masters at hiding things. But you couldn't ask for a safer place to keep your money, or your treasures, even. Come now, miss. Here we are, money exchange! 45 quid oughter cover it, give or take." Still dazed, her mother pulled out a 50 pound note and handed it to Ryan, who in turn handed it to the goblin in question. The goblin took it suspiciously, but he eventually handed over a cloth bag that he had put several handfuls of coins into. Ryan took it and yanked it open, taking a look inside.
"Wow. Let me guess, let me guess. Right…this is a Galleon," she said, pulling out a huge gold coin. Her family looked stunned, but Tom merely nodded encouragement, "this is a Sickle," out came a silver coin, "and this must be a Knut." A tiny copper coin rounded off the lot.
"Very good, miss, you're very sharp. Now then, the next place we'll visit—" But Jon wasn't quite ready to leave. He dashed up to the money-exchange goblin, digging around in his pockets.
"Wait, mum, wait!" Loose pocket change scattered around the exasperated goblin's desk. "Here, here, what about this?" The goblin looked like this was more of a burden than any creature should have to bear. Nevertheless, he patiently collected it all, counted it, and handed back a bag containing a handful of Knuts. Jon sighed blissfully.
Tom lead them out of Gringotts and into various stores. At Flourish and Blotts, Tom and her mother negotiated the book list, leaving Ryan and Jon free to explore. They were eventually found hunched over a huge book, almost taller than Jon, entitled Magical Misfits: Pranks for Your Friends and Enemies. Tom laughed.
"Come now, none of you can do that sort of magic yet!" Their mother, however, was far less amused as she looked at the spells, potions, and illustrations.
"I don't know if I like this at all, kids. Who could you possibly want to give a vomiting pen to?"
The apothecary was slightly more frightening a visit, but just as interesting. Jon's attention was captured by what looked like a shapeless blob floating in a jar full of purple goo, but then the blob winked at him. Ryan stayed away from that, but cooed over the luminous unicorn horns and dragon scales.
At Madam Malkins, she was measured for her school robes, and had to be told repeatedly by the squat, plump proprietor to stop wiggling. Her mother, in a burst of generosity, bought fancy-looking dress robes for her and even one for Jon. They both also got hats, though Jon had to promise not to wear any of this to school, to his disappointment.
For a treat, Tom took them to various other places: a store called Quality Quidditch Supplies, even though Ryan hadn't the faintest idea what Quidditch could be. It didn't matter, really, because the merchandise was wonderful: bright robes, gloves, short little bats, and honest-to-goodness brooms that actually flew. Eeylop's Owl Emporium was next, where Jon immediately fell in love with the various birds, but Barbara Lapitske flatly refused to have an owl in the house. After they finally dragged Jon away, Tom pointed to the store that Ryan had been anticipating the entire evening: Ollivander's, where she would finally get her wand.
"Come with me, family, it's best if she do this with as few people as possible. Ollivander's shop is so cramped, not the place to bring several people. Why don't we pop down to the pub, my treat, of course."
"Oh, please can I stay? Please, mother, may I stay with Ryan? I want to see her wand, too!" begged Jon. Ryan nodded.
"Can he? He won't bother me, and we'll meet you down at the pub, I can find it!" Tired, her mother nodded, not in the mood for haggling through an argument.
"Of course he can. Go on and get your…wand…but come straight back to the pub, understand? I don't want you wandering around her by yourself, especially in the dark." The moment they parted ways, she could hear her mother pelt Tom with a hail of questions. Ryan smiled and hauled Jon into Ollivander's with her, clutching his hand tightly.
The shop was dim and dusty, and more than a little creepy. True to Tom's information, it was very tiny, though the back rooms seem to extend forever. And it was quite deserted.
"Um…hello?" No answer. "Excuse me? Is anybody—ahh!" She gave a small yelp of alarm as a short wizard in silver robes appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, to stand right next to her.
"Welcome, welcome. Come for your first wand? Ah, indeed! What's your name? There's no need for shyness, now." If there was one thing Ryan was never accused of, it was shyness.
"I'm Ryan Lapitske." Mr. Ollivander was nearly of a height with Ryan, so he didn't have to lean over far to inspect her face.
"Ah, yes, Lapitske. You have the look of your grandfather about you. I remember his first wand, when he was your age, maybe a bit younger. Pine, phoenix feather, 10 inches. Of course, he was more of a potions man, your grandfather." She jerked up.
"Grandpa was a wizard? I didn't know that! Did he go to Hogwarts too, then?"
"Ah, me, no. He was never that adept. Unless I'm mistaken, he went to a somewhat less selective school in the wilds of the Amazon. I didn't think he was ever heard from again, but he must have, obviously. Very curious indeed.
"But come, that need not worry you. I am Mr. Ollivander, wand maker. Each of my wands get their power from one of three magical cores: unicorn hair, dragon heart-string, or phoenix feather. Your wand is uniquely you, and will work best only for you. Somewhat like a loyal pet, you see? But unlike a pet, the wand chooses the witch, Miss Lapitske, not the other way around." He selected a thin box from the myriad of shelves behind him and pulled out the wand. She accepted it eagerly. "Here we go, ebony and phoenix feather, a bit shorter than normal, 7 ½ inches. Try it out." Giggling, she sent it swishing through the air. Nothing happened. He snatched it back, replaced it in the box, and put the box and broken, spindly chair. She barely had time to wonder how it had been broken when another wand was shoved in her face. "Ash and unicorn, 8 inches." That one was an absolute disaster, breaking a window and showering Jon with broken glass. There were countless wands: Mahogany and unicorn hair, beech and unicorn hair, oak and unicorn hair, and more…Ollivander seemed convinced that Ryan needed a unicorn hair wand, but each attempt proved more and more disasterous (not to mention destructive), until he finally admitted defeat and moved on to phoenix feather.
"This is it, I can feel it. Birch and phoenix, 11 inches! Oh, pardon me, this box was mislabeled. How foolish."
"Can I try it anyway?" she asked, glancing at Jon, who had taken refuge under the spindly chair. Mr. Ollivander sighed.
"Don't see why not. It's getting late, as well, we should take care of this. Here we are, sycamore and dragon heart-string, 11 inches. A rather masculine wand, if you don't mind my saying so. Wonderful for spells that require a hair more power. You're welcome to try it." She reached out and immediately knew that this wand was the wand. It felt like it was made for her hand. Getting a firm grip, she sent it buzzing down in the dusty air. Gold and blue sparks shot out of the tip and flitted around like butterflies, circling around an astounded Jon and a gratified Mr. Ollivander. "Oh, bravo, Miss Lapitske, excellent! I believe we have found the wand for you!"
After paying 13 Galleons and 7 Sickles for her beloved wand, full dark had set in. Ryan left Ollivander's and walked to the other end of Diagon Alley, relishing the evening air. Jon was alternating between speechlessness and gibbering excitedly. She walked on air, practically skipping, if she were the sort of girl to skip, with joy. She had a wand, she had robes, she had packages full of items such as dried leeches and daisy petals. A bag of spare Knuts and Sickles clanked in her pocket. On September 1st, she was going to be a witch!