July 31st, 1991
I couldn't make myself open my eyes when I woke up. If I did, I knew I was going to find out that everything yesterday had just been a dream. There would be no giant man named Hagrid, there would be no Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I would still locked in my closet; ready for another day of torture...I couldn't go back to that. Not after dreaming it had all gone away.
"Audrey," my brother's voice whispered. I closed my eyes tighter, still gripping hard onto the dream that I'd had the night before. "Audrey...there's an owl."
"An owl?" I asked, my eyes opening up immediately. Owls were some of the things that had been in my dream – owls that were delivering letters. Tons and tons of letters, all addressed to my brother and I: letters that I had just gotten to read before I had woken up. I moved to sit up and follow the sound of my brother's voice, but nearly tripped over the heavy coat that was covering me.
It was Hagrid's coat.
My eyes flickered over to the giant man before I could stop them. He was where he'd sat down the night before, asleep on the collapsed sofa. He was still heavily bearded, he was still tall as a house, and he was still here.
"Drea, the owl," Harry reminded me. I shook myself again, even though my heart was racing in so much excitement I don't think I'd ever been so awake. I quickly ran over to the window, nearly tripping over my own feet when I saw the barn owl pecking at the glass. It had a newspaper in its beak and it looked irritated. I wonder how long it had been there before Harry had woken me up.
I opened the window, which gave a really loud creak. The owl ignored the gross sound while it swooped through the open pane and dropped the yellow newspaper on Hagrid's head. Hagrid didn't even grunt in his sleep. The owl, bristling when the giant ignored him went to peck at Hagrid's coat instead.
"Don't do that," Harry said quickly, moving to shoo the owl away.
"Wait," I interrupted, grabbing at his hand. "I think it's looking for something."
"Hagrid!" Harry said more loudly. The giant man grunted, but didn't say anything I could understand. "Hagrid, there's an owl-"
"Pay 'im," Hagrid mumbled in his sleep. I couldn't tell if he was dream-talking or really telling us something, so I took a step forward and daringly poked at his arm.
"Er – what?" I asked, a little more loudly.
"He wants payin' fer deliverin' the paper. Look in the pockets," that was easier said than done: Hagrid's coat was made of pockets. I let Harry put his hand in first and was only more confused when he started pulling out bunches of keys, slug pellets, balls of string, peppermint humbugs, teabags...after a while of teamwork, Harry pulled out some strange looking coins and held them to me.
"Do you think this is it?" He asked me. I shrugged at him, picking up a silver coin and holding it up to the window so I could see more of the worn writing on it. I'd never seen coins like them.
"I guess so. It says 'sickle', I think. How many do we give him?"
"Give him five Knuts," Hagrid answered our conversation with a sleepy yawn.
"Knuts?" Harry asked again, his eyes confused.
"The little bronze ones," I put the silver coin back in Harry's hand and counted out five of the smallest coins. They were little and bronze, just like Hagrid had said. When I had counted them out loud and made it to five, the owl held out his leg. It had a little leather pouch on it – just big enough to hold the coins I had to offer. I smiled at the owl, before placing them in and giving him a smile and a little pat on the wing to let him know I'd done it. The owl hooted before he soared back through the open window – he was out of sight by the time I went to close it.
Hagrid decided that then was a good time to wake up and with a loud yawn and huge stretch, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
"Best be off, you two, lots ter do today, gotta get up ter London an' buy all yer stuff fer school."
Harry was still turning over the wizarding coins and looking at them but I gave the giant a large smile, nodding my head and moving to grab the change of old clothes to wear shopping.
"We get to go today?"
"O'course we do," Hagrid laughed back at me. I didn't think my question was that funny, but he seemed to. I wasn't really upset if he would laugh at me, just as long as he took me with him. Harry didn't look as happy though, which stopped me from moving to go get changed. Hagrid, following my line of sight frowned when he saw the look on my brother's face. "Wha's wrong?"
"Um – Hagrid? We haven't got any money – and you heard Uncle Vernon last night...he won't pay for us to go and learn magic."
I couldn't believe just how quickly it could feel like my dreams were popped like a bubble. But apparently this wasn't as big of a problem as we thought, because Hagrid scoffed loudly.
"Don' worry about tha'," Hagrid said shaking his large hand dismissively. "D'yeh think yer parents didn't leave yeh anything?"
"Well..." I said slowly, looking to my brother. If our parents had left us anything, I certainly hadn't seen any sign of it. "I don't know, really..."
"Yeah, if their house was destroyed-" Harry continued, but he was interrupted.
"They didn' keep their gold in the house, boy! Nah, first stop fer us is Gringotts. Wizards' bank. Have a sausage, they're not bad cold – an' I wouldn' say no teh a bit o' yer birthday cake, neither." Once I came back from changing into my clothes, I decided to take a piece of the cake after Hagrid took his own portion – I didn't quite trust the sausages.
Still, I couldn't help wondering what would happen if I spilled icing on myself: these clothes were bad hand-me-downs. Maybe Hagrid would let us take some of the money we got to get some better clothes before we saw more witches and wizards. I didn't want to be seen like I looked now: the shirt was from Dudley when he was seven and the shorts were from one of Aunt Petunia's friends child who was nine. And I'm pretty sure the shorts had been hand-me-downs from someone else before they had reached her, nevertheless me. Did all wizards dress like Hagrid? Because as silly as Hagrid's giant coat looked, I was pretty sure we would still look really shabby.
"So, Wizards have banks ?" I asked, holding my hands out for another bit of cake that my brother was handing back to me.
"Just the one. Gringotts. Run by goblins."
Harry dropped his sausage. I stopped licking the icing off my fingers.
"Goblins?"
"Yeah – so yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it, I'll tell yeh that. Never mess with goblins, you two. Gringotts is the safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe – 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter o' fact, I gotta visit Gringotts anyway. Fer Dumbledore. Hogwarts business." Hagrid seemed very proud of that. But other than knowing that Hogwarts was the school, I couldn't image what kind of business it would have to do with a bank run by goblins. "He usually gets me ter do important stuff fer him. Fetchin' you – gettin' things from Gringotts – knows he can trust me, see."
I didn't really know why we would be considered important, but I wasn't about to be rude to the man who had finally saved us from the Dursleys and given us our letters. Hagrid gave us five minutes to pack – which was pointless because we didn't have anything we had to pack – before he was stood outside the door of the lighthouse, his arms crossed and smiling.
"Got everythin'? Come on, then."
We nearly stumbled over each other to meet Hagrid out on the big rock outside the lighthouse door. The sky was more clear than it had been in days and the little boat that Uncle Vernon had hired was still there, but it had flooded with water from the storm.
"How did you get here?" Harry began, peering over the side of the rock as I followed his movements.
"Is there another boat? There isn't another boat, is there?" I tagged on, not even trying to see over the edge. I'd be a lot happier if we could stay away from the water. Maybe Hagrid could-
"I flew," Hagrid said simply.
Maybe Hagrid could fly? That was definitely not how I had thought I would finish the thought. Then again, I'm not really sure what else I would have thought: teleported? walked? used a hover-car?
"You flew?" Harry repeated his eyes wide.
"When you say 'flew', do you mean...that...you flew?" I asked lamely. Hagrid let out a chuckle.
"Yeah – but we'll go back in this. Not s'pposed ter use magic now I've got yeh."
Not only was that silly, but it was really disappointing. I mean, he'd already used magic in front of us last night – he'd started a fire and showed my family what a little piggy Dudley really was...I didn't quite understand why he wasn't allowed to use magic now that we were with him and about to be allowed to use it ourselves.
Harry and Hagrid got into the boat first, but neither of them complained about just how slowly I was getting in. Even though I was taking a long time, I was trying to hide my fear – it was my first day with Hagrid and I was not about to look like a scardy-cat in front of him...even if I was ready to scream when a stronger wave than the ones before rocked the boat from side to side a little more roughly. I gripped my brother's arm as tightly as I could, glad that he wasn't about to tell on me. Like he had when we'd come to the lighthouse, he took his free arm and took hold of one of my hands.
"It's okay," Harry whispered quietly. "We have magic to keep you safe from water, now."
"Wha' was tha'?" Hagrid asked, looking up at us. I forced a tight smile and Harry shook his head. Hagrid looked at the water surrounding us and gave a heavy sigh. "Seems a shame ter row, though."
"I can help," Harry offered. "But Audrey can't, really...if that's alright with you?"
Hagrid gave us both another sideways look, like the ones he had given us last night when he'd warned us he wasn't supposed to use magic. Something told me he was about to say something along the same lines as then. His eyes looked closely at my grip on Harry's arm before he nodded slightly.
"If I was ter – er – speed things up a bit, would yeh mind not mentionin' it at Hogwarts?"
"Of course not," I said quickly, eager to get off the boat. "I'm all about the easy way out!"
Hagrid pulled out his pink umbrella once again, tapped it twice on the side of the boat, and with a harsh jerk and a yelp from me we were speeding off toward land, riding through and overtop of currents as if the little dingy boat had a magical motor.
"Why would you be mad to try and rob Gringotts?" Harry asked once he was done examining how the magic was controlling the rowing.
"Spells, enchantments," said Hagrid, seeming completely at ease on the water while he opened the newspaper to read. "They say there's dragons guardin' the high security vaults. And then yeh gotta find yer way – Gringotts is hundreds of miles under London, see. Deep under the Underground. Yeh'd die of hunger tryin' ter get out, even if yeh did manage ter get yer hands on summat."
"I guess no one would ever be that nutters, then," I piped up nervously, still watching the water under us. "To rob Gringotts, I mean. It'd be stupid, right...I mean...if it has dragons?"
"Mm-hmm," Hagrid hummed with a nod behind his paper.
That was kind of a test, I was wondering if he had been joking when he had said something about there being dragons down there...but something told me that he wasn't. Still, I couldn't really think on it for much longer because the boat was still racing toward shore and I was afraid of the sound the waves made when we sliced through them – I've always hated water. I think that's why Uncle Vernon picked the lighthouse: he knew I'd be too afraid to run away like I'd threatened.
"Ministry o' Magic messin' things up as usual," Hagrid muttered quietly, turning a page of his paper.
"There's a Ministry of Magic?" Harry asked quickly. I even opened my eyes to see Hagrid's reaction. He, as always, brushed it off as if it were nothing.
"'Course! They wanted Dumbledore fer Minister, o' course, but he'd never leave Hogwarts, so old Cornelius Fudge got the job. Bungler if ever there was one. So he pelts Dumbledore with owls every morning, askin' fer advice."
"So Dumbledore...he's really smart, then?" I asked.
"Smar'est there is!" Hagrid announced loudly. "Smar'er than the Minister, too."
"But what does a Ministry of Magic do?" Harry asked, leaning a little closer to Hagrid in the boat. I gripped his arm a little tighter, afraid he was going to move away from me or rock the boat.
"Well, their main job is to keep it from the Muggles that there's still witches an' wizards up an' down the country."
"How many witches and wizards are there?" I asked, closing my eyes when we hit a rough wave.
"Lots," Hagrid shrugged. "Just a bit less as many as muggles, I'd guess."
"Then why do we have to keep hidden?" Harry asked with furrowed eyebrows.
"Why?" Hagrid repeated with wide eyes. "Blimey, Harry, everyone'd be wantin' magic solutions to their problems. Nah, we're best left alone."
As soon as Hagrid finished his sentence, the boat bumped gently in to the harbor wall. I let out another yelp and felt my face turn scarlet when I opened my eyes to see Hagrid looking guilty. I guess he'd caught on to the obvious fear I had. He folded up his newspaper and was quick to help me and then my brother up from the boat. I was so happy to be on land I could have flown, myself.
People passing us on the walk to the station stared a lot at the giant man leading us through the town. I didn't really blame them for it – Hagrid was at least nine feet tall and on top of that, he kept pointing at everyday things and loudly saying "See that, Audrey, Harry? Things these Muggles dream up, eh?"
"Hagrid," Harry asked as we jogged to keep up to Hagrid's slow pace, "did you say there are dragons at Gringotts?"
"Dragons like in my storybooks?" I added. "Or were you joking? Or are they differen't? Or-"
"Oh, there're dragons!" He said with a dreamy smile. "Just not sure it's true they're in Gringotts, eh? But crikey, I'd like a dragon."
"You'd like one?" Harry repeated.
"Me too!" I said excited. Hagrid returned my smile, but Harry looked at us like we were mad.
"Wanted one ever since I was a kid," Hagrid elaborated. "Are yeh an animal lover too, Audrey?"
"She doesn't just love animals," Harry explained with a roll of his eyes. "They love her, too. Maybe it's a witch thing?"
"Maybe," Hagrid agreed vaguely. "Ah, here we go."
We had gotten to the station now. There was a train in five minutes that would get us to London. Hagrid had regular bills to pay for it, but since he couldn't understand them I took the time to count out the right fares and Harry took them up to buy the tickets for us.
People continued to stare on the train. Hagrid took up the two seats across from Harry and I and was busying himself by knitting a canary-yellow blanket that I'm sure was supposed to be some sort of clothing for someone or more likely something.
"Still got yer letter, you two?" Hagrid asked as he counted his stitches. In sync my twin and I pulled our letters from our pockets and flashed them to him with identical grins.
"Good," Hagrid smiled. "There's a list of everything yeh need, there."
I unfolded my letter, even though I had pretty much memorized all the equipment and book titles the night before.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set of glass or crystal phials
1 telescope set
1 brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS
"Can we buy all this in London?" Harry wondered aloud.
"If yeh know where to go," said Hagrid.
I looked at my brother in wonder – neither of us had ever been to London before, but something told me that it wasn't just down the main streets where we would find everything on this list. Still, once we got of the train Hagrid certainly seemed to know exactly where he was going and he started going about walking the streets, but he had little difficulties like understanding the ticket barrier in the Underground, or escalators and streetlights.
We got everywhere a little more quickly because of how easily Hagrid could part a crowd, though. This was good because both Harry and I were nearly jumping out of our skin with excitement to get there. It was so strange – would everyone look like Hagrid? Would we be able to tell when we made it to the Wizarding Stores? Would we be able to tell what a real broomstick looked like and what a flying broomstick looked like? Or were they one in the same – could I make my own broomstick fly?
"This is it," said Hagrid, suddenly stopping and almost making me run into his behind. "The Leaky Cauldron. It's a famous place."
I couldn't understand why. The Leaky Cauldron was a dingy, grubby-looking pub. It was a hole-in-the-wall kind of place that I never would have noticed if Hagrid hadn't stopped us at its entrance and people didn't even glance at it as they passed – even with us in their way. Then again, perhaps the Muggles couldn't see it at all?
The Leaky Cauldron was no better on the inside than it was on the out. It was badly lit and smelt of booze and smoke. A table in the corner was taken by some old women drinking sherry – one of which was smoking a really long pipe that reminded me of a didgeridoo. There was an old, balding bartender that was speaking to a man in a top hat and also a woman with very long, dirty nails that was drumming some kind of pattern on the bar. I tried to pick up if it was Morse-code – because I loved patterns so much – but I was distracted by being welcomed.
Each of these people acknowledged Hagrid in some way as we walked into the bar. It seemed even the bartender was a friend, because he reached for a glass asking, "the usual, Hagrid?"
"Can't, Tom," Hagrid said with a proud voice. "I'm on Hogwarts business."
"Good Lord," the bartender began, taking a step forward as his eyes glued onto my brother's face. "Is this – can this be..."
I looked around nervously, noticing that everyone in the entire bar was looking at my brother. The whole room had gone silent enough that I was sure I could hear someone's beer fizzling in their glass.
"Bless my soul," the old bartender whispered. "Harry Potter...what an honour!"
The balding man hurried from behind the bar, nearly stumbling in his rush. I took a step back as he moved through people – including myself – to go forward and grab onto my brother's hand, shaking it a mile per minute.
"Er – Harry? What did you do?" I asked him quietly, over the man's shoulder. I couldn't get an answer though, or if he did, I didn't hear it because I was moved back again when people started moving toward him. The bartender even had tears forming in his eyes.
"Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back."
Everyone was looking at him, coming closer and moving to him as if he were some prize that they all wanted to grab for themselves. I felt claustrophobic just looking at all of them coming closer and I wasn't even the person they were gunning for. I looked to Hagrid, about to ask for some explanation, only to see that he looked proud and...and as if he had expected this.
"Doris Crockford, Mr. Potter, can't believe I'm meeting you at last." One of the old witches came forward, pushing the line of people who had gathered around my brother.
"So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud."
"Always wanted to shake your hand – I'm all of a flutter!"
"Delighted, Mr. Potter, just can't tell you, Diggle's the name, Dedalus Diggle."
"I've seen you before!" I said loudly, gartering some attention to myself when the little man, Dedalus Diggle, let his top hat fall off his head in his excitement. "You bowed to us once in a shop."
"They remember!" Dedalus Diggle cheered, looking around at everyone. "Did you hear that? The Potters remembers me!"
"Potters?" One of the witches repeated.
"Is she the other Potter?" The witch with the long nails asked. "The girl – Audrey?"
They knew my name, too?
But it was obvious a few of them didn't, because the witches that had been drinking sherry turned to whisper to each other as if they couldn't be noticed and the bartender leaned close to Hagrid and asked something about me, pointing to my...
I slapped my hand over my neck, realizing with a blush that everyone was looking at the mark there. It was quite an ugly thing, I didn't want these people – who somehow knew my brother's name and some who even knew my name – to start asking about it. If only Aunt Petunia hadn't cut off all my hair, I'd be able to hide it more easily...
At this point another man made his way up to my brother, he seemed very nervous – nervous enough that one of his eyes was twitching. Hagrid smiled and clapped him on the back excitedly.
"Professor Quirrell!" Hagrid beamed, pointing toward my brother and I. "Harry, Audrey, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."
"Oh," I said slowly, still feeling ridiculously claustrophobic and confused. "Hello."
"The P-P-Potters," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping my hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."
"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked awkwardly, watching as Quirrell switched from me to eagerly shake his wrist.
"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as looking as if he tasted something foul. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, H-H-Harry? You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up a new b-book on vampires, m-myself."
I briefly wondered if I yelled BOO really loudly, if Professor Quirrell would run away. There was a part of me that really wanted to, even though I decided not to try it in such strange company. But a part of me really wanted to scare off as many people as I could – why were they all moving around my brother? And why did they all know him? And why wasn't I allowed near him, but they could all fight each other to be near him while Hagrid took the time to talk to the bartender.
I couldn't help but become more and more aggravated when I had to wait for another ten minutes before Harry was finally released from the group of barflies so that he could make it back to Hagrid and I.
"Must get on – lots ter buy. Come on, Harry."
The woman who introduced herself as Doris Crockford shook my brother's hand again and the group around him moved, none of them even saying goodbye to Hagrid. Or me.
Hagrid steered us out into a small courtyard just outside of the back exit to the bar, which was walled by trash bins and badly bricked walls. Harry looked over at me, still as lost as I was with the bustle of the bar.
"What just happened in there?" He asked me. I shrugged, shaking my head slightly – but Hagrid only grinned.
"Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous, Harry."
"But why isn't Audrey famous?" Hagrid's grin dropped a little bit.
"She is, she is," he said hurriedly, clearing his throat before moving around to avoid eye contact. Hagrid reached through his pockets, likely looking for his umbrella again. "People were excited to see yeh, too, Audrey. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh – mind you, he's usually tremblin'."
"Is he always that nervous?" I asked, looking back toward the door and wondering if he was really buying a book on vampires, or if he was saying that just to make fun of us.
"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag – never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject – now, where's me umbrella?"
When Hagrid had finally found his umbrella, he started meticulously counting the bricks on the wall across from the door to The Leaky Cauldron.
"Three up... two across... " he muttered. "Right, stand back, you two."
He tapped the wall, at the same brick, three times with the point of his umbrella. The brick he had touched quivered and wiggled before a second followed – and then a third and then the rest of the bricks near it began to wriggle and writhe as if they were being tickled. And, like what always happen when you're tickled, the bricks ran away from all the others and it created a wide archway that was large enough for even Hagrid to pass under.
Underneath it was a cobbled street that twisted a turned out of sight, lined with old fashioned shops and people dressed in clothing almost as strange as Hagrid's. There were loads of them, lots of kids our age and near our age, lots of adults pulling kids around from store to store as they tried to stay and look at displays or talk to friends.
"Welcome," Hagrid smiled, "to Diagon Alley."
As we walked forward, a magnetic force pulling us closer to the shops, the archway shrank and clinked the bricks back into place without prompting.
The beautiful day continued through the grime of The Leaky Cauldron and onto the shiny, well-kept shops through the alleyway. It was like the sun was shining on the places we needed to go to buy our school supplies. And all the signs had the strangest names...Eeylops, Florean Fortescue, Quidditch, Gringotts...
"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," Hagrid said, watching as Harry had stuck his face into the Apothecary's window to look at a large pot that looked like a stereotypical cauldron, "but we gotta get yer money first."
The walk to the bank was a thrill. Everywhere I looked there were new things to see – the shop names, the things in the display windows, the people coming in and out, the things those people came in and out with...
I stopped and nearly squealed as we past Eeylops Owl Emporium – there were all kinds of animals here, including animals I had never seen before. Owls, eagles, falcons, cats, kittens and things that seemed to be a mix of those animals that I couldn't name.
Hagrid just laughed at my enthusiasm, watching as I played with the kittens and handing me some pellets to feed to one of the tawny owls in its cage.
When we continued on, I saw children huddled around a display of a broom – apparently it was the fastest model ever. There were books and quills and old parchment like my teacher said that Shakespeare wrote on; telescopes and potion vials and fabric that was cutting itself into strips...
"Gringotts," Hagrid announced. He was pointing toward a white, marble building that towered over all the other shops in the alley. Beside the tall, bronze doors sat red uniformed...people? No. Those were definitely not people...
"That's a goblin," Hagrid said quietly while he walked us up the large steps toward the goblin – it was something right out of a fairytale: short, squat, pointed ears and a pointed beard, beady eyes and long fingers and feet.
As we walked through there was an engraved plaque by the doors which read:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed,
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
"Oh, a poem!" I said excitedly, watching as my brother rolled his eyes at me.
"It's a warning, Drea," he whispered back as we walked past the goblin and through the bronze doors.
"Like I said," Hagrid whispered as we walked through the quiet bank that was lined with goblins that seemed hard at work and concentrating. "Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob it."
The goblins were scribbling on ledgers, weighing coins on scales, or examining precious treasures through exaggerated eyeglasses. Hagrid lead us towards one side of the counter, Hagrid cleared his throat loudly to gather the goblin's attention from weighing a chunk of some sort of gold.
"Morning," Hagrid forced a grin to the goblin who did not grin back. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr and Miss Potter's safe."
"You have his key, sir?" The goblin's voice was lower and more scratchy than I had expected it to be – but it was still loud enough to sound eerie. Still, I couldn't help but notice and frown when the Goblin looked straight at my brother and said his key. Was the key not for my safe, too?
"Got it here somewhere," Hagrid mumbled while he started to pull at the objects in his pockets and emptying them onto the counter in front of the goblin. The goblin wrinkled his nose at some of the more strange objects – particularly the mouldy dog biscuits – before Hagrid finally gave a triumphant cry.
"Got it!" Hagrid beamed, holding up a tiny golden key.
The goblin inspected the golden key very thoroughly before he nodded.
"That seems to be in order."
"Great," I smiled excitedly, the goblin gave me a look – certainly calculating me – but the goblin did not grin back at me. Instead he frowned and let out a bit of a humph.
"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid told him in a proud, loud voice. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."
I gave a sideways glance to my brother, looking to him with a frown before the goblin finished reading the letter and nodded.
"Very well," he said, handing the letter back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"
I don't know why I was surprised that Griphook was another goblin, but he looked much more stern and severe than whichever goblin the three of us had already been speaking with. Once Hagrid had put all his garbage back in his coat, we followed the smaller goblin toward one of the doors leading off to the hall.
"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked for me, looking at me from the corner of his eye.
"Can't tell yeh that," Hagrid told stiffly. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."
Griphook held the door open for us, but I had a feeling it was more out of obligation than being nice. I was surprised when the marble ended and the thick, dark rock began. There were railway tracks on the floor, the passage around us was lit with flaming torches instead of lights. Griphook whistled to signal a little cart to come rushing toward us. It stopped to have time so that we could climb in – we took a bit longer so we could help Hagrid – before we were off.
The cart moved on its own, Griphook was not controlling where it went and there was no way to remember how many lefts, rights, and underpasses we took to get to our own vault. In fact, it was so confusing that I had to close my eyes when I started to get another of my headaches.
"Audrey?" Harry asked, yelling slightly over the wind that quickly whipped past us. I winced by how loud it sounded to my suddenly sensitive ears.
"I'm okay."
"Headache?"
"Just a little one," I frowned. I could feel that it was growing more and more, the deeper and more confusing the maze of vaults became, but I didn't want one of my stupid headaches ruin today. Not my first day in the Wizarding World.
Instead, I started looking out the side of the speeding cart, hoping that it might be more easily. I could see that there was an underground lake here, stalactites pointing down dangerously, stalagmites growing up to point at us threateningly in case we decided to change our direction when we weren't supposed to.
"I never know," my brother called out, not noticing when I winced again, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"
"Stalagmite's got an 'm' in it," Hagrid said quickly. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."
I couldn't have agreed with him more.
By the time the cart stopped beside a small door in the wall, Hagrid was scrambling out of the cart and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from shaking. I got out just so that I didn't have to grip the side of the cart and I could push on my skull.
Griphook ignored our discomfort as he climbed out to unlock the big door that was grafted into the rocky wall. Green smoke billowed out from it when the door started to open and I coughed for a moment before it cleared.
I had never seen so much money.
There were mountainsof gold coins. Dozens of separate mounds of silver. And masses of little bronze Knuts. It was like when I used to dream of having so much money I could swim in it – I could swim in this. I could have even made a fort out of all of it, if I stacked it right.
"All yours," Hagrid smiled.
"Harry," I gasped, looking around at the piles as I walked in – I was afraid to touch anything just in case we were about to be told that we had gone to vault seven-thirteen first. "Are we...are we rich?"
"I don't know," he whispered back, looking at the piles with wide eyes. "I don't know how to count it..."
"I can help with tha'," Hagrid smiled, bustling forward. "The gold ones are Galleons; seventeen silver Sickles to one Galleon and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, it's easy enough."
That did not sound easy at all. Why were they in such random numbers? Seventeen, twenty-nine? How did this compare to Muggle money? Was a Galleon like a pound? But then, would that make a Sickle like ten pence or twenty five? No, that would be a Knut – no, no, there were twenty-nine Knuts to a sickle...which would make how many Knuts to a Galleon?
No. Wizard money was not 'easy enough'.
"Right, that should be enough fer a couple o' terms, we'll keep the rest safe for yeh both." Hagrid said, walking out of our vault to turn toward Griphook. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"
"One speed only," Griphook said coolly.
One speed only was a lie. Now that we were going to deeper vaults, we were going faster and faster. Which made my headache get worse and worse. And while we kept going faster and faster, the air became more and more chilly. It was like everything was working against me to make this day horrible – first my brother is famous, then everyone ignores me, then I get a headache. I hoped that things wouldn't be this frustrating all the time.
Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.
"Stand back," Griphook pretty much announced it to himself as Harry and I knew to stay in the cart while Hagrid moved to the side to try and calm his stomach. Griphook moved forward and stroked the door with one of his long nails before the door melted away.
It was magical. Literally and not-so-literally magical.
"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," Griphook said importantly, suddenly turning into a tour guide.
"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.
"About once every ten years," Griphook finally did grin and it was quite a nasty sight.
I couldn't help but let my mind wander to whatever might be in this vault. There wasn't piles of gold that I could see and it didn't have one of the dragons that Hagrid wanted to keep – in fact, the vault looked close to empty. But when he came out, he was tucking a little brown package deep into his coat pocket.
It made me think of what Harry always said when I got angry, or when I would burst the piping through the house: big things come in little packages.
Particularly if it was kept in vault seven hundred and thirteen.
"What next?" I asked, trying to sound excited, but I still had a headache and it was getting worse and worse. I knew that I wouldn't have any time to sleep it off like I normally did, but maybe I would find some spell or something in one of the shops to make it better. I knew Hagrid wouldn't do it, because he shouldn't be using magic in public, but maybe I could get a shop owner to do it or con someone to advertize themselves by using me as a guinea pig.
"Can we get some tablets for Audrey?" Harry asked, craning his neck to look up at Hagrid. "She gets headaches sometimes."
"Headaches, eh?" Hagrid asked, making a face before he began digging through his pocket. "I've just the thing...ah – no, not there, 'ere it is!"
From his pocket he pulled out a small vile of a purple liquid. I looked at it nervously.
"Er – Hagrid? What is that?"
"This? Oh, it's a potion," Hagrid explained, wiggling it in his fingers. "It'll help with the pain – tastes like lavender."
"It won't..." I frowned, trying to look at the liquid and see if it showed it was poisonous as if it would show like the poison dumped on Snow White's apple. "...hurt me or anything, will it?"
"O'course not! I wouldn't give yeh somethin' that'd hurt yeh!"
Seeing the insult on Hagrid's face was what made me take it more than having trust in one of many possible vials that was in his pocket. It did taste like lavender like he said it would though, so I had a little bit more trust to put in him...particularly when I felt the potion start to tingle while it battled my headache almost immediately.
"That's amazing!" I gasped. "It's already working!"
"It's not done yet," Hagrid chuckled. My eyes widened, taking tablets back at Privet Drive never worked that fast and it was already working almost as well as those tablets would have. Was he saying that it might take my headache completely away?
"It isn't? How long will it take?"
"Only a little bit," Hagrid smiled. "That's a potion for yeh, great things. Real hard to make, though."
"Will I ever get to try one?" I asked, looking back at the vial really closely. "Can I learn to make this one?"
"Yeh could try askin' ole Snape. He teaches yeh Potions at Hogwarts."
"We get a whole lesson to learn things like this?" I asked excitedly. He laughed.
"Yeh won't be so excited when yeh meet the professor. He's a grump, 'e is...so, now that it's startin' to work, let's get on with it, yeah? Might as well get yer uniforms."
Hagrid began walking us toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. I was excited – I wondered what these school robes would look like – what colour would they be? Red, green, blue, yellow, purple, gray?
As Hagrid held the door open he blushed down at us. "Harry, Audrey, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts."
He still did look green and I knew his pain because I could still feel my headache fighting to overpower the potion I'd taken, so both of us smiled and assured him we would be fine on our own. We walked into the shop, decorated in cloths and fabric of every colour and texture. We were greeted by a small witch with a large smile who was dressed in mauve.
"Hogwarts, dears?" she asked us. "Got the lot here – another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."
And there was another boy in the shop.
He was in the back, holding his arms up as a second witch pinned long, black robes to the proper hem length. He had pale features, with white-blond hair and light eyes that seemed to watch everything around him. There was something about him that didn't look quite normal – but for all I know it might have been that all wizards looked like this, or maybe just because he was cute.
"Hello," the boy said in a very posh, proper accent. "Hogwarts, too?"
"Yes," Harry responded as he was put up on a stool next to him. The first witch, the woman in mauve, slipped a large, untailored robe over Harry's head and began measuring.
"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," the boy sounded nearly bored, which was silly – I didn't understand how someone could not be excited that they would finally understand themselves like I felt I did. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow. Oh, hello."
He seemed to have finally noticed that I was sitting and watching both he and my brother. I couldn't help but frown at him – I could notice the cute boy, sure, but he couldn't notice me? Then again, no one in this world had really noticed me before Harry yet, had they? I couldn't stop myself from being frustrated that the cute boy, like so many others, had barely noticed that I was here today. But he had noticed my brother. Suddenly, he didn't look so cute at all.
Instead of saying hello to him, I turned away to find a place to sit.
"Have you got your own broom?" The blonde-boy asked, ignoring my shunning to continue interrogating my brother.
"No," Harry said awkwardly.
"Play Quidditch at all?" Was Quidditch a game? I remembered seeing the word at some point on our walk through the alley, but I couldn't remember what it had been near. I'd figured that it was a store of some kind, or one of the strange wizarding names.
"No," Harry said again, frowning slightly.
"I do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" Did we live in individual houses on the school's campus? I don't know if I liked that – what if I had to live with my brother for the whole year? Or worse, what if I didn't live with my brother? I didn't want to get upset with someone and burst the house pipes like I did at the Dursleys...was that even normal in this world, to burst pipes and melt things and boil things?
"No," Harry repeated, his face flushing as the woman continued to tailor his robes. He gave me a look, trying to show how uncomfortable he was – but all I could do was shrug as the chatty boy, who favoured my brother like all others, just continued on.
"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they?" He asked, but didn't give my brother time to answer the question. "But I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"
"Mmm," Harry hummed, looking more and more lost. I couldn't help but snort at my brother, gathering the boy's attention again.
"What about you? You don't want to be in Hufflepuff, do you?" His eyes bore into mine and there was a moment when I looked back before I scowled, looking away. I kind of wanted to be in whatever Hufflepuff meant if it meant that he might not be there to bother me and chat up my brother the whole time.
"I didn't think so," the boy smirked, watching as the second witch began putting the finishing touches on his black robes. "I say, look at that man!"
He had pointed out the window – I was shocked that someone who seemed so in tune with everything in the wizarding world could still be surprised, so I turned to look and frowned when I saw that he was pointing straight at Hagrid. Hagrid had tried to surprise us by getting us three ice creams, which he held in his overgrown hands and began mouthing how he would wait outside. I was actually touched by it – sure, the man was strange and slightly intimidating, but he certainly was nice.
"That's Hagrid," Harry said with a grin, pleased to know something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."
"Oh," the boy drawled the word out and made it sound as if it tasted bad. "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"
"He's the gamekeeper," Harry corrected, I could see him clenching his jaw in frustration.
"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage – lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."
I think the worst part of that description, was that I could see it happening. And there was a part of me, a very small part of me, that let my imagination wander and visualize what the boy had just said. I let out a giggle that drew his attention and seemed to made him feel proud of himself.
"Well I think he's brilliant," Harry interrupted my giggle coolly and gave me a glare that had me sighing and looking away so that I could avoid a lecture.
"Do you?" the boy sneered, it seemed he no longer found this conversation interesting. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"
"They're dead," said Harry shortly. I was surprised he was so forward about it – but I looked away, not really wanting to elaborate on it. As soon as he realized who Harry was, he might start to fawn over him like everyone else has so far. Then again, maybe he already had and that's why he was being so chatty – but at least he wasn't all adoring and friendly like everyone else had been. It made me almost think he was cute again.
"Oh, sorry," he didn't sound very sorry, but I didn't really care. I'd decided his rudeness was refreshing to being crushed by how happy everyone was to see my brother. "But they were our kind, weren't they?"
"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."
"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"
I scoffed. This boy really knew how to write himself in and out of my good books. As soon as Harry would tell him his surname, he'd figure out he was the famous Harry Potter and this boy would change his tune, like all the other people who had been around him today. I couldn't help but cross my arms over my chest and the boy noticed how annoyed I was.
"What?" He asked with a scowl. "You're not a squib, are you?"
I didn't know what a squib was, but I knew that he did not say it as a compliment.
I glared at him and surprisingly, he was able to meet my glare. Most people looked away, Aunt Petunia once said it was unladylike and unnerving how much spite I could put behind a look – but this boy held it well. That was interesting.
"That's you done, my dear," Madam Malkin said and Harry was quick to jump off the stool. She was much faster than her assistant, it seemed. "Your turn, sweetie."
I frowned, knowing that now I would be up for the torture of the blonde boy's chatty-mouth before I climbed up on the stool. I was glad that the robe she pushed over my head covered most of my scar considering how much it swamped me. At least he wouldn't gawk at it.
"So," the boy began again, as I had known he would. "Are you a squib?"
"I don't know," I muttered darkly, my eyes flickering over to him with a sneer. "Are you a dumb-blonde?"
Harry, who had made it to where I was sat just a moment before, snorted out a laugh that sounded as if he had snored while awake. I couldn't help but smirk at my work between hearing my brother's laughter and seeing the boys glare of disbelief.
"You're done," the other witch, who was working on the boy, said. He hopped off the stool. "Would you like me to put that on your parents tab?"
"No," he said loudly, rattling a bag of coins in front of Harry's face as if to tease him. "I have more than enough to get it with this little bit, here."
I rolled my eyes, purposefully looking away from him as he moved to the front of the store. We'd gotten bigger bags of money for ourselves – but there was no point getting pricked by a needle just to prove that blonde-bogey wrong.
By the time I was done getting my robes fitted and Harry and I paid, I was excited to get back out and eat the ice cream. My headache had finally gone and I felt in a much better mood – but honestly, the chocolate and raspberry ice cream probably helped with that, too.
"What's up?" Hagrid asked as he saw Harry's annoyed face.
"Nothing," Harry lied. I sighed.
"He's upset about not knowing everything the other boy in there did," I told him honestly. Harry elbowed me for giving him up and I just smiled into my ice cream. It was nice to have him be grumpy for a bit today and be able to put him under an awkward spotlight instead of the lime one.
"Well, what was he sayin'?"
"Er," Harry suddenly seemed to have forgotten everything that had made him angry while he tried to think of something that the boy had mentioned. "What's Quidditch?"
"Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know – not knowin' about Quidditch!" I frowned.
"Don't make me feel worse," Harry groaned.
"We can find out about Quidditch when we go to the shop," I frowned, looking up at Hagrid with a nervous yank of my own hair. "Is a squib a bad thing?"
"Squib?" He repeated, looking shocked while he choked into his ice cream. "Where'd yeh hear that word?"
"Well, there was a boy in Madam Malkin's. He kept talking about Quidditch and houses and broomsticks. He asked Audrey if she was a squib and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in-"
"Yer not from a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh were – he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk." I couldn't help but look down as I realized that he pointed out him knowing Harry's name... "You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles – look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"
"So was our Mum a squib?" I asked.
"No. She was raised a Muggle, but she was a witch. A Squib is someone who should be magical, but innit."
"Okay," Harry said slowly, though it was clear he was as confused as I was. "So what is Quidditch?"
"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like – like football in the Muggle world – everyone follows Quidditch – played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls – sorta hard ter explain the rules."
I was kind of glad he didn't take the time to – I didn't really like football.
"And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?" I asked, resting my head on my hand as I finished off my ice cream.
"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but-"
"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff," said Harry gloomily. I frowned, suddenly regretting just how much I had hoped to be in that house because of that boy. I hoped he was in it because I refusedto be in the group of duffers.
"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."
"Vol-" I stopped myself when I saw Hagrid wince. "Sorry...You-Know-Who went to Hogwarts?"
"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid. But that was all that he would say on it before we started our shopping again.
I nearly became ecstatic with all the books in the book store: Flourish and Blotts – I bought more than the courses said to. There were shelves from the floor to the ceiling – they were all different sizes and colours, different thickness and on different papers. Some were bound in leather, another few were bound in fur...
"Yeh might make a good Ravenclaw, Audrey," Hagrid acknowledged. And even though I didn't know what that really meant, I was just glad he didn't I'd make a good Hufflepuff.
I was amazed by the potions bubbling in the cauldrons – Harry had to drag me away from buying a golden one. Hagrid kept saying that I only needed a pewter for school, but the witch behind the desk continued to tell me all about the potions and ingredients that would be able to be mixed in a golden cauldron that would not work in a pewter and I was sold...sadly my money was not being held by me. And by the time we made it to the Apothecary, I was nearly running back to buy the golden cauldron again, knowing that I couldn't mix aconite, cobra venom and human fingernails unless I had one.
"Just yer wands left, now," Hagrid smiled down at us. He had nicely decided to carry all of our purchases in his giant arms. "Ah yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."
I couldn't help but stutter at the idea – a birthday present? I'd never gotten a real birthday present before...
"You don't have to-" Harry started quickly. I elbowed him slightly, trying to shut him up. I know that Hagrid didn't have to – but the thought of getting a real birthday present was too exciting to pass up. What would he get us? Maybe a golden cauldron?
"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer an animal," I gasped, smiling widely as I grabbed Harry's arm to make sure he was paying distinct attention. "Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at – I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."
"Are you only getting Harry one?" I asked, frowning slightly. Maybe Hagrid only had the money for one, but I was hurt that he immediately wanted me to sit back and watch Harry get what he wanted yet again. First he got attention and now he was going to get an owl?
"'Course not!" Hagrid frowned, looking confused. "But yeh know, Audrey – I think yer perfect for a cat. Yeah, a cat – let's go find one."
He walked us to Eeylops Owl Emporium and what should have taken ten minutes took over a half an hour because I couldn't decide – a cat seemed like the pet for me, but the owls were so tempting and the falcons! Who would ever think they could tame a falcon? But I seemed to be able to. They loved me. It wasn't until I was going through the aisles and my eyes fell on a beautiful, white kitten with pale leopard spots and bright amber eyes that I fell in love.
"Hello," I whispered to her. "You're beautiful."
The cat mewed at me. She looked different than the cats around her – her ears were extra large and oddly shaped, her tail looked closer to a lion's tail with a tuft at the end.
"Yeh found a kneazle!" Hagrid beamed. "Do yeh like her?"
"She's gorgeous," I gasped. "What did you call her?"
"A kneazle, 's a species. Yeh got it in that one book yeh bought, but they detect danger to their owners," I let the kitten bite on my finger and giggled at her. "She seems to like yeh. Not often a kneazle just likes any witch or wizard."
"Can I keep her?" I asked, looking up with a smile and giving him my most innocent eyes. "Please?"
Moments later, I was walking out of the store with a kneazle in a basket and Harry had an owl in a cage. We had both chosen snowy coloured animals and I loved seeing how we had chosen such close looking things before we even could have compared them.
"Thank you," I said again, looking up at Hagrid as the kitten swung to try and reach the hem of my sweater.
"Don' mention it," Hagrid frowned. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now – only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."
A wand. A real wand.
I wonder if it had to come in black with white tips like the magicians on the television.
The last store we made our way into was narrow and more run-down than some of the others, with a single wand in a purple cushioned box decorating the window. It looked just like a simple wooden stick – I wondered if mine would still look black with white ends. The gold letters on the old wooden sign above the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
A bell alerted whoever worked in the store that Harry, Hagrid and I had entered. Hagrid sat on an old chair as he waited for us. There was a bell on the desk that I went to ring but as I moved forward, Harry shook his head and silently told me not to.
"Good afternoon," a soft voice said from the corner. An older man walked from the shadows, watching us with wide, pale eyes and an energy around him that made me shiver. He had something strong about him, even though he looked weak and wispy. It was almost scary.
"Hello," Harry said quietly. He elbowed me when I was too speechless to say anything.
"Ow!" I winced."Er – hi."
"Ah yes," the man said slowly. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter."
Of course he didn't seem to hesitate to know who Harry was.
"You look so like your father. I remember his first wand, he favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable – a little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – but it's really the wand that chooses the wizard of course."
Harry could only nod. He looked terrified.
"And you, Audrey Potter – I never thought I would meet you in this shop. You look so like your mother. It seems only yesterday she was in her buying her first wand, as well: ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. A nice wand for charm work."
Was it a regular occurrence that this man could remember the wand of his client's parents? And why did he know he'd meet Harry but not think he'd meet me?
His eyes glanced over both our scars, ending on Harry's before his hand moved to touch the scar with a long, white finger.
"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he sounded full of regret and it took me a moment to realize that he was referring to the wand that gave Harry his scar. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands...well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."
He shook his head and then, moving back to me but as he moved between us he seemed to catch Hagrid's eye.
"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again...Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?" Then again, maybe he really did remember everyone's wand.
"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid, blushing and sounding a little less big and confident than he usually did.
"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern. I raised my eyebrows, turning around to gaze at Hagrid who shuffled his feet and looked embarrassed.
"Er – yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid before he brightened considerably. "I've still got the pieces, though."
"But you don't use them?"
"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly, holding onto his pink umbrella rather tightly as he shook his head. I tried not to giggle at how little the giant man tried to make himself while Mr. Ollivander hummed his disapproval of the lie. He turned his eyes back to my brother.
"Well, now – Mr Potter, you first. Let me see." He pulled out a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"
"Er," Harry looked at me nervously and I pointed to my right, indicating he should do the same.
"Er – well, I'm right-handed," he said nervously.
"Hold out your arm: that's it," the old man muttered. He measured from my brother's shoulder to his finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and finally finished by measuring around round his head. The craziest part about it, was that the man didn't touch the tape measure – it took account of everything on its own.
"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr and Miss Potter," Mr Ollivander explained as he measured. "We use unicorn hairs, magical feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, phoenixes, or augureys are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."
He said of course as if we should have known this, but I tried to hang onto his every word.
"That will do," the tape measure fell to the floor when it's job was done as Mr Ollivander moved about the shelves, over spilling with wands, as he began to take down boxes. "Right then, Mr Potter: try this one. Beachwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Harry looked at me nervously, before taking his wand and waving it. Mr Ollivander barely let anything happen before he snatched it away from him.
"No, no – here, ebony and unicorn hair. Eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."
Harry tried another. And another. And another. Ash, Yew, Beachwood, Sandalwood, Holly, Mahogany – unicorn hair, augurey feather, dragon heartstring, augurey feather, unicorn hair. He rattled boxes and knocked over wands and even shot sparks out of the end of one – but still, Mr Ollivander took them all away.
"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere..." he thought as he moved toward the end of the shelf, moving somewhere I couldn't see him as I began to panic. What if I didn't have the perfect wand? What if I really was a squib and it was meant not to work for me after all? Maybe Harry, famous Harry Potter, was the only one who was supposed to go to Hogwarts – maybe I wasn't supposed to be here at all.
"Unusual combination," the old man said, handing my brother another wand. "Holly and phoenix feather. Eleven inches. Nice and supple."
This time, when Harry brought the wand down a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the tip like a firework. It looked beautiful and I was surprised when nothing it touched burned. Hagrid whooped at the display and clapped while Mr Ollivander beamed.
"Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well..." he breathed, coming forward and looking closely at the wand in my brother's hand. "How curious, how very curious..."
"Sorry," Harry said quietly, still unable to stop from smiling, "but what's curious?"
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand," he said slowly, packing up the wand as if it were very, very delicate. "It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, its brother gave you that scar."
My jaw dropped as I looked down at the box that now contained my brother's wand. Harry swallowed thickly beside me.
"Is that really Vo-"
"Audrey!"
"That's You-Know-Who's wand?" I corrected, abiding by Hagrid's rule when he reminded me.
"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember..." he cleared his throat as his eerie, pale gaze turned to me. "And now, for you Miss Potter. Wand hand?"
I felt no less nervous as he came toward me, my hand extended while the tape measure soundlessly and with no help took its own measurements.
"Interesting, interesting," he mumbled watching over whatever the tape measure read before he went to his stock of wands and began to pull out a few. When he gave the word, the tape measure fell lifelessly to the ground again and he handed me my first wand. "Mahogany and unicorn hair. Ten inches, rigid. Try it out."
I waved the wand, feeling a breeze rattle the boxes before it was snatched from my hand. And just like with my brother, the process began again.
I went through more wands than Harry and more combinations. Willow, Yew, Ash, Sandalwood, Maple, Holly – phoenix feather, dragon heartstring, augurey feather, unicorn hair...it didn't matter the combination, I could not make something good happen. There was no shower of sparks, no display of good magic like Harry had...just dud after dud.
"Not to fret, not to fret – we will find the answer. Try this: phoenix feather and willow. Eleven inches, flexible."
I waved it and cried out when the vase in the far corner of the room cracked and spilled all the water out and onto papers that had been near it. Mr Ollivander made a noise of complaint before he took the wand from me. He moved to remove his own wand and clean the mess as I looked over to my brother.
"I'm never going to find a wand, am I?"
"I worried the same thing," he worried. "But if I did, you will. We're twins."
"Yes," Mr Ollivander said slowly. "Yes, you are. Miss Potter, if you would take...this one."
I was shocked as he moved around the desk for a moment and removed the paper from around Harry's wand before he handed it to me by the hilt. I shook my head, looking down at the Holly wand in confusion.
"But...that's Harry's wand."
"I would like to see the reaction. Perhaps I need to try to assemble a wand or look for a different kind of core for you. It's happened before. Try for curiosities sake," he urged, poking the wand forward again.
I sighed, looking over at Harry who shrugged. It didn't seem like he cared I might have to share his wand – would we have to share wands until Mr Ollivander could make my wand? – before I took a hold of it.
It was immediately as if a thousand needles were stabbing through my skin. I let out a cry and closed my eyes against the pain, feeling my knees tremble from the pain as I tried to drop the wand – but I was in so much pain that it didn't seem to work properly. I tried again and on the third or fourth time of trying to unwrap my fingers from it, I dropped the wand where it lay.
"Audrey!" my brother gasped, moving forward. "Audrey, are you alright?"
"Your wand," I gasped, looking at my bloody hand and hissing at the pain. "It – it attacked me!"
"Not to worry, not to worry!" Mr Ollivander said again, moving from behind his desk to come over to me. I wheezed when I noticed that his desk, which had just been pristine and organized was cracked down the middle as if the wood had split and Harry's wand lay with a bloody hilt right in the crevasse.
"Mr Ollivander," I said, looking at him in worry. What if he wouldn't make me a wand now that I'd ruined his desk? By Hagrid's reaction in the background, asking again and again what happened and 'what went wrong' I could tell this was not normal. "I'm so sorry!"
"No, no, no," he urged, pointing his wand to my hand. "Let me fix this, here."
With nothing more than a warm, golden glow I was able to move my hand as if nothing had happened to it at all. I looked at it in wonder, my eyes wide when I saw that the skin was flawless and even more smooth than it had been before it'd been injured.
"You do not need a phoenix wand...no, no – far too fiery for you," he mumbled, moving to a side shelf and taking another wand from his store. "I want you to try this one: Augurey feather, ash. Nine and three-quarter inches, springy."
Naturally, I was worried. It took me a moment before I could gather up the courage to take hold of this next wand, but when I did it was immediately different than any of the others. A nice chilly feeling crept up my arms – giving me goosebumps and making me feel as if something else was there. Something that hadn't been there for the other wands, from somewhere between the tip of the light wooded wand to the engraved grip that rubbed under the sensitive new skin of my palm.
"Curious," he muttered again. "Your wand is the opposite value to that of your brother's, Miss Potter. Very curious."
And it was true, as he took it from me to package it I examined the wands closely. His was a darker wood, while mine was light. His was supple while mine was springy. His was smooth while mine had jagged designs...designs in the shape of the X that was carved into my neck.
"Why is that, sir?" I asked quietly, unnerved by my own wand.
"The wand chooses the witch, Miss Potter. But I think it's clear that we can expect things from you two. Interesting, great things...After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great."
If only I had known then exactly how right he would be.
Based off of my story Green Eyed Monster.
I do not own the Harry Potter universe or its characters. I do own Audrey Potter, her ridiculously vivid potion-making skills, and her wicked nicknames.
Thanks go out to leafstone, Lei2510, xXMizz Alec VolturiXx, Magimagus, Ergelina, vmarslovahhh18, Ella710, incitanemxx, Bitterglass, Nicky-Maree, and Lizzy B for their reviews.
Enjoy the flashbacks and please review :)