Read the disclaimer and Chapter 1: Strange Things Are Happening to get up to speed.
Words: 4,700 Pages: 17
Chapter 2: Diagonally, Quidditch Is A Spell, Dear
July 11th
Morgan had been up since six o'clock that morning. She hadn't slept very well, due to her excitement of the coming day. Hermione Granger, the woman who had changed their lives the day before, was coming back today to show them where to buy the twins' school necessities. She had called the shopping district 'Diagonally'. It was a very funny name, but Morgan supposed she'd just have to get used to strange names. Ms. Granger had spent nearly an hour discussing the very basic things they would need to know. She had taken special care to explain some of the more complicated things, with very strange names.
Margaret had been the most difficult to convince to go to their new school; this Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Margaret had a hard time believing in things like magic. When she did eventually cave in, Ms. Granger said that she'd return the next day at ten in the morning to show them where to go and how to get money for their supplies. Then Ms. Granger had disappeared with a 'pop' right in front of their very eyes.
Morgan hoped that that would be the first thing they learned; how to disappear. Morgan also wondered what was going to happen with her soccer. Would Hogwarts have a team or even a field where she could go whenever she wanted to? She didn't know, and she had been far too excited about the prospect of learning magic, learning real magic, to remember to ask.
Margaret hadn't been worried about soccer. She had spent the following half hour after the absence of Ms. Granger, muttering about how far behind they probably were from the other students. Some of the other first years would be from families that did everything by magic; like even tying their shoes in the morning. Margaret always worried about school and Morgan never did. Sometimes, Margaret complained that it was unfair that she always had to work hard to do so well in school, but that Morgan never did and she still got decent grades. Margaret's grades were always better, but Morgan's were never far behind.
Morgan took out the letter Ms. Granger had given to her, from the school. It was written on heavy, wheat-colored paper that Ms. Granger had said was parchment. It wasn't typed, but handwritten. The penmanship was spiky, short and compacted. The note was brief and cold. But Morgan didn't care. Morgan had read it so many times, she nearly had it memorized. She lay down and went over the letter again.
On the inside of the parchment it read;
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmistress: Minerva McGonagall
Miss Morgan Wood,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Find
enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term
begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than
July 31.
Yours dutifully,
Severus Snape
Severus Snape,
Deputy Headmaster
The enclosed list had been folded up inside the first letter. Ms. Granger had gone over every item on the list the school had sent. Morgan sat up in her bed, and reached over towards her bedside table, her fingers just brushing the thick paper of the smooth parchment that held the names of the items they would need as well as the items that were strongly recommended.
The list was rather long. It included books, clothing, magical items, and animals. Morgan had groaned when she had seen the list of books that had been required of them to buy. Margaret had been rather pleased. When Morgan had asked if they could just buy one set of texts to share between them, Ms. Granger had said 'it would probably be best for you each to have your own, just in case you are sorted into different houses or even if you decide not to sit next to one another in classes'. She had then proceeded to tell the Woods about the Sorting Hat. Morgan was eager to see this hat; Ms. Granger had mentioned something about it singing.
They were going to buy black robes, and plain gray skirts and jumpers which would have their house colors sewn on them magically while they slept the night of the sorting. They also had to buy ties, which Ms. Granger explained would also have their house colors appear overnight. Cloaks, boots, dragon-hide gloves, and a pointed wizard's hat had been requested of all students. They would need wands, of course, cauldrons, balancing scales, potions supplies, parchment rolls, quills, and ink. Ms. Granger also recommended that the girls share an owl, so that they could write home. Betsy had been appalled that Ms. Granger would suggest that the twins have a troublesome bird around, but that had been before Ms. Granger had explained an owl's usefulness. They were mail carriers. Owls carried letters back and forth between people.
To make sure the Wood family was properly prepared; Ms. Granger had gone so far as conjuring a map of the shopping district they would be going into. 'Diagonally' was behind a shop in London; Mr. Wood could neither deny nor confirm that he had ever heard of the shop called 'The Leaky Cauldron' simply because where he worked in Kensington was not close enough to the city for him to travel into on a regular basis.
The map had shown a single, long, crooked road, with an alley going off somewhere near the middle. The main road appeared to be covered in shops, which Ms. Granger had named off, without even blinking. Margaret being the brainiac she was had stared at the map while Ms. Granger had pointed at the main shops they would visit. Margaret had committed the entire map to memory in just seconds.
When Morgan smelled the coffee coming from downstairs, she pulled back her covers and hopped out of bed. She was already dressed for the day, having been too excited to really sleep. She wandered over to her bureau underneath her window sill. Casting a brief look over to Margaret's sleeping form; she pulled open the bottom drawer and pried the flat board panel, which made up the bottom of the drawer, out. Underneath the panel, resting on the wood of the bottom of the bureau was a small sack of coins. Morgan grabbed the bag, shoving it into her pants pocket, quickly. Maybe 'Diagonally' had sweets she could buy.
Margaret made a small noise, before rolling herself into a sitting position. She glanced over to Morgan who was standing by the window. Morgan gave the bottom drawer of her bureau a swift kick, knocking it into place.
"What's your problem," Margaret asked. There was an edge in her voice, even though she was still half asleep. Morgan turned around, rapidly, staring at her sister with wide eyes.
"Nothing," she mumbled. "Going down for breakfast?" Margaret stared at Morgan with suspicion before nodding her head in answer. Morgan practically sprinted out of their doorway, and Margaret heard her feet pounding on the stairs. Margaret winced at the noise; she wasn't a morning person. Morgan was a morning person; in fact Morgan never seemed to be tired. Margaret was jealous of that ability.
At breakfast, Morgan was fidgeting much more than usual. No one even bothered trying to tell her to calm down, like they would have done, normally. They were all much too excited.
Everything in the Wood household was quieted with a hearty knock on the front door. For a second, no one in the warm kitchen moved. Then, Mr. Wood, stumbled to his feet, and then to the door. He hesitated a moment, and the same thought entered the entire Wood family. What if it had all been an elaborate joke? What if magic didn't exist? Winston pulled back the door, and closed his eyes in relief. Ms. Granger was standing there, a smile on her face.
"Good Morning, Mr. Wood. Are you and you're family ready to explore a world you never knew existed?"
Nearly three hours later, Ms. Granger excused herself from three very pale and sick looking Woods and one very excited one (Morgan) outside Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Miss Granger mentioned something about meeting with a family in Glasgow, before apparating (that was what she called it; her disappearing trick) away.
They had been through the Leaky Cauldron, watching as cleaning witches and wizards cleared off shabby wooden tables, patrons sipped on steaming green liquid and thin, watery orange colored juice. A couple of wizards in the corner were playing a fantastic card game, in which the cards exploded at random moments. Morgan nearly had to be dragged away from the sight, through a back door into a dingy alleyway.
On the way to the bank, they passed a cauldron shop. The shop was filled to the brim with pots as small as a baby's fist and some bigger than a car. Every size was in a variety of colors, black, silver, bronze, copper, pewter, steel, and gold. Some cauldrons were self-heating or cooling and others came with manuals thicker than tree trunks.
On the opposite side of the long, winding, cobblestone road was an apothecary that sold ingredients for potions. There were shelves of jars containing tongues of this and ears of that. Outside were barrels and buckets of tiny, glistening eyes, there were bottles with foggy liquids and ones with swirling lizards' guts.
There was a shop just for the selling of owls; black, brown, snowy white, spotted, ones with stripes. Many owls were huge, some were very tiny. Inside owls were flying around carelessly and outside they were locked in shiny cages.
As they passed a book store, Margaret's head whipped around. Morgan knew her sister was gazing at the aisles and high bookcases with longing. How could anyone love something so boring?
Diagon Alley (Miss Granger had corrected Morgan shortly after Morgan had asked her about the oddly named street) was booming with merchants selling their products; books, potions, robes, animals, and even ice cream.
Morgan thought that the best thing about Diagon Alley was all the people filling the street. There must have been hundreds of them. There were wizards in long dark robes, with canes and hats, and leather belts with little satchels holding coins; they strolled from shop to shop. Witches rushed by in flurries of brightly colored robes, and hats, clutching at purses, holding shopping funds and lists. Many people were in couples, few by themselves, and still many more were in the alley as a family. There were so many children; young ones still in prams, ones that toddled, some with short, skinny legs and scratched, knobby knees, pre-teens shopping for school supplies with parents and older siblings, who tended to roll their eyes a great deal.
The bank was a large marble building of white, with a set of bronze double doors up front. They were magnificent; Margaret thought. There were wizards and witches milling around inside. Some wore deep green robes with a set of scales embroidered in gold over their hearts. They sat behind desks piled high with heavy, round coins. Once in a while, Margaret spied one of the workers casting a spell on the coins, making them glow a bright red, briefly.
Further along in the bank, the witches and wizards grew very short. Their skin turned leathery. Their ears elongated into points. They turned meaner and rounder. Ms. Granger led them past the desks and up to the front, where there was an enormous wooden counter. One of the short, pointy eared creatures sat behind it, scratching a feather topped pen onto thick yellowing paper. It looked up when Ms. Granger cleared her throat. Margaret tried not to stare at its crooked, yellow teeth and its beady, black eyes embedded in several folds of wrinkled skin. Margaret noticed that Morgan was having difficulty being as polite as she. Margaret nudged her sister's shoulder with her own, breaking Morgan's stare. Morgan glanced at her, catching Margaret's glare. She averted her gaze from the thing behind the desk.
"Good morning," Ms. Granger said cheerily. She didn't seem afraid of these strange things a bit. "We need to exchange some muggle money and open an account for the Wood girls." The creature behind the counter shifted in his seat, glancing behind Ms. Granger, Winston and Betsy, to see the twins. Margaret looked up at him, trying to be braver than she felt at his unwavering gaze. Morgan stared at him shamelessly, even being so bold as to wave.
Half an hour afterwards, the Woods and Ms. Granger were careening down a rickety track in a tiny wooden cart, accompanied by a goblin. Goblins ran Gringotts. Those short, wrinkly little creatures were goblins. Ms. Granger said they were highly intelligent creatures, but also very temperamental. The goblin that was taking them whizzing past hundreds of doors, deep under the bank, towards their new vault was named Wendell. He wore short brown pants and a green shirt covered by a golden brown vest. Morgan thought he looked quite funny, but didn't say anything to him about it. Not that she could, she was too busy trying to count how many doors they had passed already, but they were speeding by much too fast.
She turned around from her seat next to Wendell. Everyone looked as if they were going to be sick. Her mother was holding onto their father's arm with both hands. Winston was gripping the side of the cart with such a force that his knuckles were turning white. Margaret was sitting hunched over, her head between her knees. Even Ms. Granger looked a bit green. Morgan was having a blast. It seemed that the only other one not affected by the speed of the cart was Wendell, who sat staring straight ahead. Morgan leaned over towards him.
"Can we go any faster," She shouted at him, barely heard over the roaring of the wind and the racket of the cart's wheels against the tracks underneath. Everyone behind her let out groans of protest.
The Woods decided to split up the shopping, now that they had their own Wizarding money. Betsy would take Margaret to the bookstore for their texts, the stationery shop for their writing utensils, and the apothecary to purchase potions materials. Winston would accompany Morgan to the Robe shop to be fitted for both hers and Morgan's robes, to the cauldron shop for two pewter standard size cauldrons, to the Celestial Goods store for telescopes and on Morgan's request, to the sweet shop so that she could buy some candies.
Morgan was led by her father, reluctantly, to 'Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions'. The shop wasn't as stuffy as Morgan expected. The stores back home were always crowded and warm and prim. The walls in Madame Malkin's were covered with bolts of materials in several colors. There was a sales clerk behind a desk near the door; she didn't look up when Morgan and her father walked in, she just pointed them towards the back of the shop.
"Hogwarts, dear," A plump woman asked Morgan. She was moving around quickly. One moment she was carting around huge piles of fabric in her arms and the next she was juggling spools of thread. A newspaper clipping posted on the wall, showed this woman to be the Madame Malkin. The extract was about the shop's new delivery of imported silks and cottons; 'Soft French silks, supple satins and elegant Egyptian cotton had been delivered just last week'. Morgan wasn't positive, but it looked almost like the photo of the woman was moving. Madame Malkin paused in her pacing long enough to see Morgan nod.
"This way, then," Madame Malkin responded. She led the Woods to a set of two one foot high podiums. On one podium, stood a boy, the other was empty. He was standing up straight with his arms out on either side. A huge black span of fabric was slung across his shoulders, falling unceremoniously to the floor. His hair was black and incredibly messy.
"Up there, next to Mr. Potter" Madame Malkin pointed to the empty podium with her elbow. Morgan climbed up the podium. She stood waiting for further instructions. Maneuvering the pile of clothes in her arms to one side, Madame Malkin took out her wand and waved it at a pile of tape measures.
Immediately a single tape measure zoomed over and began measuring Morgan by itself, as Madame Malkin moved around the walls, placing some more of the fabric in her arms at each stop. Morgan stood perfectly still, watching the device measure the space between her right and left ears. Barely moving her mouth, she spoke out to her dad.
"Dad. Dad," Winston turned from the shimmering fabrics on a wall and looked to Morgan. His jaw almost dropped at the self-measuring tool that was gauging the area from Morgan's navel to her nose. "It's moving on its own," Morgan pointed out, "like magic." Winston nodded, still speechless.
The messy haired boy, Mr. Potter, next to Morgan looked at her strangely. Morgan glanced over at him, feeling his gaze. He had brown eyes and slightly rounded cheeks. Morgan knew just by looking at him, she's was almost an inch taller than he.
"What," She asked him. He stared at her, his eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. He looked at her dad, before turning his attention back to her. He gave her a wide smile, showing straight teeth.
"Are you a muggleborn," Morgan stared at him. A muggleborn? Was she?
"My parents are muggles, I guess," She answered him. She looked at her dad, who was still mesmerized by the tape measure (her left knee to the tip of her middle finger on her right hand). "This is my dad," Winston snapped out of his daze long enough to nod in greeting. Madame Malkin bustled over, carrying a similar length of black fabric that the boy next to her was wearing.
"Enough," Madame Malkin said sternly. At once, the mobile tape measure collapsed into itself and fell to the floor. She draped the fabric in her arms over Morgan, so that she looked like the black haired boy. Madame Malkin turned towards him. She bent down to her knees, and began pinning most of the black fabric on him up towards the tops of his sock covered feet. "Alright, Mr. Potter. I'll have you finished before you can say Quidditch," Morgan and her father shared a confused look. Madame Malkin moved upwards, starting to pin up Mr. Potter's sleeve.
"Quidditch," Winston spoke the word. His mouth was unaccustomed to the word and anyone could tell, because it came out roughly and off beat. Morgan turned completely to look at the boy, fully.
"What's Quidditch," Morgan asked him. Potter's head whipped around, his eyes became extraordinarily wide, and his mouth popped open.
In his shock, he dropped his arms, causing Madame Malkin to shout through her mouthful of pins, "Arms up!" The boy, Potter, quickly raised his arms again.
"What do you mean, what's Quidditch?"
"Is it food," Morgan asked him. The boy stared at her. "A type of animal,"
"It's a game," The boy said, through clenched teeth. He was obviously upset. Madame Malkin moved to his other side.
"Like cards or chess," Morgan turned forward away from the boy, quickly becoming bored with this Quidditch, whatever it was. If it was anything like cards or chess, then Quidditch was nothing that Morgan wanted to be a part of.
"No, not like chess. It's a sport," Morgan's eyes brightened. A sport? Sports were fun and fast. James continued, "You play on broomsticks, you know, like fly, you play it by flying in the air on broomsticks. Quidditch broomsticks, specifically or a racing broom, if you so prefer."
Morgan and her father were riveted. This game sounded fun. It sounded dangerous. It sounded exactly like the type of sport Morgan would play. They listened raptly, as the Potter boy explained about the players, the positions, and the balls.
"There are seven players on each team; three chasers, two beaters, a seeker and one keeper. There are four balls. One is called a quaffle. The chasers pass the quaffle to each other and try to pass through one of three gold hoops stationed on a far end of the pitch. Every time the quaffle goes through a hoop your team gets ten points. The hoops are guarded by the opposing team's keeper. On the other side of the pitch, are three identical hoops that are guarded by your own keeper. There are two balls called bludgers. Bludgers are heavy, black and enchanted to fly around the pitch, trying to knock the players off their brooms. The beaters have bats that they use to smash the bludgers toward opposing players," Potter paused. He glanced at Morgan and her father, making sure that they were still following what he was saying.
"The last ball is really small, and golden; it has wings. It's called a snitch. The snitch is wicked fast and nearly impossible to see up in the air. It's the seeker's job to catch the snitch, before the other team's seeker does. Once the snitch is caught, the game ends. The team whose seeker caught the snitch receives one hundred and fifty points, and they usually win the game." Morgan was in absolute awe of this game. Imagine that; a whole sport played up in the air on flying broomsticks.
After Madame Malkin had finished hemming the boy's robe, she waved her wand over a nearby bundle of fabric. Several finished replicas of the boy's robes appeared in their place. She then waved her wand of the fallen tape measure near Potter's feet. A selection of measurements floated up from the device in a shimmering gold. Madame Malkin excused herself to deaf ears.
"James?"
The boy on the podium next to Morgan stopped his praise of a Quidditch team from Puddlemere. He turned around, locating the place of the call. Morgan and her father turned too, in time to see a red headed woman come forward towards them. She had small girl and a smaller boy in tow.
"Mum," Potter, James, greeted. He turned towards Morgan and Mr. Wood. "This is my mum."
The red headed woman grabbed Winston's hand and shook it. She did the same to Morgan.
"My little sister, Lily."
The girl stuck out her tongue at her brother. She had long black hair and big brown eyes.
"And that's my little brother, Marc-Arthur; Mac."
The little boy looked almost identical to his mother with deep red hair and freckles. The only major difference was that this boy had green eyes instead of his mother's brown. Now, James turned to Morgan to introduce her to his family. "This is- um- this is"
"Morgan," Morgan saved him. "Morgan Wood. And this is my dad." All three of the children's eyes widened. James' face went an astonished white. The looked almost ill.
"W-Woo-Wood," He stuttered in question. Madame Malkin came back, carrying several pairs of gray slacks, white collared shirts, and gray sweaters. Mrs. Potter relieved her of the pile. Both women went up front, so that Mrs. Potter could buy James' uniform. Madame Malkin dragged Winston away, as well, saying something about holding onto Morgan's uniform, to which he replied that, he'd need some for her twin, Margaret, as well. When the adults were out of sight, the three Potter children turned towards Morgan with wide, amazed eyes.
"Your last name is Wood? As in Oliver Wood," Lily asked of Morgan. She moved closer to the podium Morgan was standing on. "The Puddlemere United Keeper; Oliver Wood?"
"You're related to Oliver Wood," Mac asked her. "Can you get me his autograph? Can I have your autograph?" Morgan stepped away to the far side of the podium, trying to get away from the fanatic Potter kids. She tripped over the back of the black fabric still draped around her shoulders. James scrambled up her podium to help her. Lily and Mac gasped and hurried around the back of the podium towards Morgan.
"You alright," James asked, holding out his hand. Morgan nodded. She took James' hand and he dragged her up, with Lily and Mac helping by rearranging the black fabric that would be her robes, back onto her shoulders.
"I don't know any Oliver Wood. So, we're certainly not related. I'm a muggleborn," Morgan explained. She hoped she used the term correctly. "We're not related to anyone. At least not anyone with magic."
Morgan would have taken it back if she could to save herself from seeing Lily's and Mac's disappointed expressions. Morgan looked over at James and he tried to quickly mask his own disappointment.
The parents came back; Mrs. Potter with bundled packages and Morgan's father under several layers of gray. Mrs. Potter muttered something quietly, her wand pointed at her bags, which promptly shrunk to the size of her fist. Morgan watched James' mum place the tiny packages in a pocket.
"We have to go to Ollivander's still, James," Mrs. Potter announced. She reached over and took Mac's hand in her own. She turned to Winston and Morgan, "It was very nice to meet you. I'll probably see you in September. Have a wonderful summer." She shook their hands again. Winston stared at her, confusedly for a moment as she turned toward Madame Malkin. "Thank You, again," she told the woman. She, Mac and Lily walked away. Both of the children turned and waved good-bye to Morgan.
"Arms out, dear," Madame Malkin said to Morgan. She had Morgan standing on the podium and began to pin the black fabric to fit correctly. Morgan stood as straight as she could under the fabric's weight. She held her arms out to either side. James stood behind Madame Malkin, slowly backing away towards the exit.
"If you're really interested in Quidditch," he began. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "There's a shop just down the road; Quality Quidditch Supplies. It's got books and equipment, if you want."
Morgan smiled and looked over at her father. He looked just as excited as she did. Morgan looked back at James and nodded.
"Yeah, thanks, we'll do that."
"I've got to go, see you on the train, then," James asked, hopefully. Morgan thought she remembered hearing Ms. Granger speak about a train that would take all the students to the School on September first.
"Yeah, of course," Morgan responded. James' face lit up into wide smile, his round cheeks becoming bigger. He gave an enthusiastic wave, before turning and jogging out the door. Madame Malkin stood up, blocking Morgan's view of the closing front door.
"All done, dear. I'll just make the rest."
The rosy cheeked tailor waved her wand in the direction of several folded bolts of black fabric. In just seconds, the folded fabric was replaced by half a dozen copies of Morgan's makeshift robe. Madame Malkin swished her wand at Morgan and the pinned black fabric disappeared off Morgan's shoulders. The tailor pointed to the pile of robes and they became bundled in brown paper with a twine ribbon. Madame Malkin performed the same spell on the pile of gray uniforms Winston had put on the stool. Then, the witch muttered, 'Reducto!' and all the packaged goods shrunk significantly. Madame Malkin thrust a bag into Winston's hands, and then she dropped each parcel down into it. Though the bag had been filled to the brim with shrunken packages, it looked as if it weighed nothing at all. Morgan took the bag from her father's hands. The bag felt lighter than a feather. She stared down at it in awe.
"It's a spell dear," Madame Malkin explained. Morgan looked up at her father and he shrugged. Winston paid Madame Malkin. He and Morgan thanked the woman and exited the shop. Looking out at Diagon Alley, Morgan became even more sure of something than she had been earlier; She was going to love magic!
Thanks for reading.
New chapters will be posted as soon as I have finished the chapter that follows it. Example: If chapter five was the last posted chapter, chapter six will not be posted until chapter seven is finished being written.
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TNGoH
Joe and Izzy: Thank you so much for the review. I'm glad that you liked the part with Ron and Hermione. There should be a little more of them. Look for updates. Cheers, Ta!