"What did you do there yourself?" I asked.
We were sitting in the cafe of a certain Florean Fortescue. Sirius promised to treat everyone to ice cream, but as soon as the owner saw my forehead, he immediately became very enthusiastic and treated everyone "at the expense of the house". "Your scar is not only your business card, but also your credit card. Will you let me wear it?"
"Yeah, I'll peel it off," I joked sullenly. Besides, being a celebrity wasn't easy for me.
Hagrid asked me to buy a remedy for flesh — eating slugs,' said Lupin, ' they're spoiling his cabbage.' Remus has become an expert in vegetable gardens," said Sirius, grinning. "The main thing is that it's not for other people's reasons," the professor replied in the same tone.
"Who's Hagrid?" I asked, feeling like a complete idiot. Because Lupin talked as if you could say "Hagrid" to anyone in the world and they'd say " Ah! Hagrid! I know, I know... "
Almost the same situation as with Dumbledore.
"Well," said the professor, " Hagrid is… Mmm... Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts. The gatekeeper. And teaches the Care of magical creatures.
"What other magical creatures?" Pat asked.
"Various things," said Lupin, " unicorns, hippogriffs. "Dragons," my friend continued, sounding a little dumbfounded. "No, the dragons are too dangerous. They live in special kennels, " the professor said very seriously. Dragons?! What nonsense. I didn't believe in the Loch Ness Monster. Pat's jaw dropped slightly. Lou didn't seem to be listening at all, but was looking at the owl shop.
"Where are you hiding them all?"
"I don't think you can put a dragon in a box," Pat said. Although, what am I saying, someone always sees some monsters. They like to write about it in all sorts of newspapers.
"The Ministry of Magic isn't very good at maintaining secrecy," said Sirius, grinning. His whole appearance said that this was the Ministry he didn't like. "Come on," I said, " no one believes them anyway.
"Well," Pat agreed, " that's a feature of the modern human psyche. Everyone believes in magic deep down, but if you show them real magic, no one will believe it, and everyone will look for what the trick is. Well done, Pat! I was nervous, couldn't resist. "Is that Gringotts?" Lou asked out of the blue, nodding to the side. She pointed to a dazzling white building that towered high above the nearby shops. For some reason, I immediately had associations with colonial Latin America. White is not the color of London.
"Yeah," said Sirius, looking at Lou with interest, " where are you from…"
"My father does business with them, I think, for the exchange of money"-waved our friend, throwing an empty ice cream bowl on the ground, - "oops…"
When she saw our questioning looks, she continued:
"Actually, he's a sorcerer, too. But he's not very good at magic, you know, even though he's a Veela's son. Since he thinks better than he does magic, he became a financier, not a wizard.
"You can surprise me, Lou," Pat muttered.
'Speaking of the bank,' said Lupin, reaching into his pocket, ' this is what Dumbledore told me to tell you.
He handed me a tiny key. It seems to be golden. I picked it up and looked at it carefully.
"What is it?"
"The key," my godfather said.
"Yes, I realized that it is not a lock. Why do I need it?"
Lupin and Sirius exchanged a blank look. "This is the key to the safe in the bank," the professor said slowly and clearly (as if I were an imbecile).
"An inheritance from my parents," Sirius added.
"Do I have any money?" I exclaimed in surprise. The fact is, I never even had any pocket money. Or rather, the Dursleys gave them to me very, very rarely for the most, most necessary needs. The only money I ever got was from various part-time jobs that Pat and I often practiced. So the fact that I was financially well off stunned me more than the fact that I was a witch.
"Wow," I said, " I'll have to buy myself some new glasses."
"Don't," my friend said, " you look like Lennon in these."
"It doesn't look like it," Lou said.
"And who is Lenin?" Sirius asked.
"Lennon," Pat corrected, " Lenin was a different dude altogether. But Harry certainly doesn't look like him.
After everyone had eaten their fill of ice cream for free, Sirius offered to buy Pat and me some magic wands.
"Why? we can't do magic anyway."
"What are we for?" - grinned Sirius — - we'll teach you. Moony already has three years of teaching experience.
"A Moony?" I looked at my godfather questioningly.
"That's my school nickname," said Lupin.
"So you're a teacher," Lou interjected in an affirmative tone, a little out of place. "Yes," the professor smiled, " I've been teaching at Hogwarts for three years now. Defense against the Dark Arts. By the way, about Hogwarts…"
I didn't finish listening, because a store we were passing caught my attention. It was called "Everything for Quidditch" (what kind of miracle yudo?) and in the window was displayed … A broomstick. Well, not the usual, janitor's, but some kind of bells and whistles.
"Oh, don't tell me you can fly broomsticks," I said to my companions. Sirius and Lupin were a little confused.
"We fly," said my godfather thoughtfully, " and we play quidditch." I let out a nervous laugh.
"So this is a game... okay, where are the magic wands?"
A minute later we entered a cramped and somewhat run-down shop with a dilapidated sign that read: "Ollivanders: makers of magic wands from 382 BC."
"What do you mean, ancient traditions," I muttered as I entered the tiny shop. As we entered, a bell tinkled somewhere in the back of the store. There wasn't enough room for five people. That's probably why Sirius and Lupin decided to leave us alone and promised to be there in ten minutes. (However, they made us promise that we would not leave without them.) And they left us some money. You won't believe it, but they were GOLD coins.
"Piastres, piastres," Pat echoed my thoughts.
"Not piastres, but galleons," Lou said authoritatively.
"Honey, you know too much," Pat said, " it's time to kill you." While they argued, I looked at the long stacks of narrow boxes. For some reason, goosebumps ran down my spine.
"Good afternoon," said an elderly man who suddenly appeared, his large pale eyes shining like two full moons in the dark of the store.
"Hello," Pat muttered. The old man (apparently Ollivander) looked at us as if we were old acquaintances.
"Of course," he said. "Of course. Although I expected to see you a little earlier. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. To think that it was only yesterday that she was here, buying her first magic wand. Willow, ten and a quarter, flexible. Especially good for charms."
He came closer to me, probably to get a better look. At least blink, you old bastard. I feel like I'm being X-rayed. "And your father, in turn, preferred a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Plastic, more powerful. Perfectly suited for transformations. I said your father preferred it, but of course it's the wand itself that chooses."
"Do you remember every stick you sold?" Pat asked.
"Of course!" Ollivander exclaimed, " every single one of them." I wish I had that memory at his age. The old man turned his attention to Pat. I let out a sigh of relief. It turns out that I slightly forgot to breathe while he was staring at me.
"And you're late, too, Mr. Preston."
"Random," Pat corrected, " Preston was my mother's last name."
"Well, of course," Ollivander said, unabashed, " an extremely talented sorceress. I remember her wand very well-maple, unicorn hair, nine and a half. Whiplash. Although for you... hmmm…" He looked at Pat critically, a flash of memory in his eyes, but he looked back at my grim friend and said nothing.
"And you?" he looked at Lou questioningly. Honestly, it made me feel better when he didn't say her first name right off the bat.
"I'll stand here on the sidelines," our friend said briskly. The old man scanned her, too, then chuckled and clapped his hands.
Well, let's start with you, Mr. Potter," he said, taking a long silver-notched tailor's meter from his pocket. "Which hand do you prefer to use for magic?"
"Not yet," I said, " but I'm basically right-handed."
Then the tailor's meter began to measure the distance on my body by itself. Pat's face said, " I'll never get used to this stuff."
Meanwhile, Ollivander was telling us.
"Every Ollivander wand contains a powerful magical substance, young people. We use unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, and dragon veins." He finished with me and moved on to Pat
"I'm left-handed," my friend had just managed to interject into the wandmaker's lecture.
"All Ollivander wands are different, because no two unicorns or phoenixes can be exactly the same. And, of course, you will never achieve the same results using another wizard's wand." And then a nightmare began.
Ollivander would take out his chopsticks, comment on what they were made of and why they were convenient to use, and then give them to us with the words: "Try this one." I still hate those words. When he handed Pat the first stick (birch, eleven inches of unicorn hair), my friend made an impromptu lunge and grinned.
"I like it. I don't know about magic, but you can put out an eye for sure!" I swung mine back (mahogany, dragon veins, eight inches) and half the top boxes fell to the floor.
"I'm sorry," I muttered. But Ollivander didn't care. He worked tirelessly to get us more and more sticks. But he seemed only happier as he watched the growing mountain of boxes of tried-and-true chopsticks.
"Customers with requests, eh?" the old man was happy and went on a new search — - but do not worry, somewhere here you will find your only one.
"And we will definitely ... find it."
"Maniac," Pat mouthed from behind him. Lou was sitting on a rickety chair, yawning openly.
"Aha! Ollivander exclaimed.… "And why not... an unusual combination — holly and phoenix feathers, eleven inches, pleasant, pliable."
He handed me another wand. When I took it in my hand, I immediately felt warmth running down my fingertips. Amazing-an inexplicable feeling. I waved it, and the dusty air followed the wand in a shower of red and gold sparks.
"That's great," Lou said.
Ollivander was saying:
"Interesting… Interesting...
"What's so interesting?"
"I remember every single one of the wands I sold, Mr. Potter. Every. And it just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is contained in your wand gave another feather — just one.And you'll agree that it's really interesting that you're destined for this particular wand, while her sister — God, her own sister-is responsible for your scar." I felt uneasy.
"Yes, yes, thirteen and a half inches. Think about it! It's funny when these things happen. So now you, Mr. Random…"
Pat tried and tried. Sirius and Lupin had already returned, and Pat still couldn't find the right wand.
Pat tried and tried. Sirius and Lupin had already returned, and Pat still couldn't find the right wand.
"So it wasn't fate," Pat said wearily.
The old man probably didn't even hear him, because he once again stared intently at our friend.
"Interesting," he muttered again, " but it's worth a try. Could you give me your hair, young lady?"
Lou shivered and came out of her slumber.
"Yes, for God's sake " and gave the old man a long blond hair. He examined it carefully and chuckled.
"I don't use Vail's hair as part of my wands. They turn out to be too temperamental. But I think we should sometimes deviate from traditions."
"I'm only a quarter full," Lou said weakly.
"Thirteen inches of ebony, I think," Ollivander muttered, " Come back at the end of the month, Mr. Random.Your wand will be ready."
When we paid and left the store, everyone let out a sigh of relief.
"What a day," I said. It was almost sunset, actually. My godfather and the professor led us through the Leaky Cauldron and into Muggle London
And on the way, Lupin gave Pat and me a hard time. He said Dumbledore wanted us to go to their famous Hogwarts instead of our normal school this fall.
"How's that?" I didn't understand.
"This, of course, is not practiced, but as an exception… The board of trustees agreed. You will go straight to the sixth year, where your peers, and then together with the fifth-year students will take OWLs. This is an exam for Ordinary Wizarding Levels"
"Oh, like a certificate," Pat drawled.
In short, we promised to think about it. What we agreed to right away was Sirius's invitation to stay with him until the end of the summer. That's great! How shocked the Dursleys will be when I tell them I'm going to visit an ex-felon!
Anyway, I was walking home again with a whole bunch of new information, a magic wand under my arm, and a sore head from fatigue. Although (and this is not the first time I've noticed this) the London evening scene has a very calming effect on me. The people, the passing cars, the glittering shops, the high — rise buildings-all this slowly brought me back to the reality I was used to. But still, I was carrying a real magic wand, and apparently I was going to a magic school. We almost forced Lou into a taxi (because we didn't have the energy to walk her back to Mayfair, and with our luck we were in trouble...) and walked all the way to our block without incident.
"So what do you think of this school?"
"I don't know," my friend said, " but I have a vague doubt that we're getting into some kind of trouble."