John's mind churned with conflicted emotions as he contemplated the looming prospect of attending Hogwarts. As a reserved individual, he shuddered at the thought of being stuck for seven years around children with little to no personal space. John was unsure if it was all just a figment of his imagination. Nevertheless, he resolved to proceed as though everything around him was indeed real, and that he was Ethan, the young boy whose body he seemed to have inhabited. Even if it was all an illusion, he would much rather live within it than be lying lifeless in a coffin buried six feet under.
Yet John couldn't help but be a little disappointed. The magic here was nothing more than an ordinary part of life, the thrill of adventure and mystery of the unknown all but absent.
"How could anyone be thrilled by such a lackluster world?" John wondered to himself.
Even so, he knew that entertaining the notion of being transported to a different world was foolish. What were the odds that whoever was responsible for his current predicament would send him somewhere else?
The jolt of Ethan's mother's gentle touch brought him back to reality, and he found himself standing before the fireplace. She nudged him forward, urging him to go first into the flickering flames of the floo network. John hesitated for a moment before stepping into the fireplace and took a deep breath, his hand shaking slightly as he raised it up to throw the powder into the flames. Just another ordinary day of willingly setting oneself ablaze. As the emerald-green flames rose up around him, he shouted out his destination: "Leaky Cauldron!"
The sensation was overwhelming. He felt as if he was being squeezed through a tunnel, the heat and the noise surrounding him in a dizzying cacophony. He tried to keep his eyes shut, knowing that looking around would only make things worse.
And then, suddenly, he stumbled out of the fireplace. He was in a small, dimly-lit room that smelled faintly of smoke and some broth. The woman and Evelyn followed him moments later, looking at him with a mix of concern and amusement.
"Are you alright, dear?" his 'mother' asked.
"I'm fine," he said, trying to steady his breathing.
The woman smiled, patting him on the back. "Good," she said. "Now, let's get going."
As John and his new family emerged from the Leaky Cauldron, the bright sun hit him like a slap in the face. He shielded his eyes, momentarily disoriented by the sudden change in light.
Once he had regained his bearings, John looked around and took in the sights and sounds of Diagon Alley. The street was alive with the hustle and bustle of witches and wizards of all shapes and sizes, each one engrossed in their own magical errands. The bustling stalls were overflowing with everything from broomsticks to potions to magical creatures, and the air was redolent with the aroma of exotic ingredients that John had never smelled before.
Evelyn seemed thrilled to be there, chattering excitedly about all the things she wanted to see and do. Her mother was clearly at ease, seamlessly navigating through the crowds. As they made their way through the busy alleyway, John couldn't help but feel like an outsider, a mere observer in a world that was still so foreign and unknown to him. Even though he had read and watched everything about the wizarding world, nothing could compare to the experience of actually being here. Books and movies could only take him so far, but actual knowledge of the world required firsthand experience. What year was it? Was Voldemort still around? Or maybe Grindelwald?
Before long, they found themselves standing in front of the large, ornate sign for Flourish and Blotts. Without a word, the woman led them into the shop, and John found himself surrounded by towering shelves packed with books of all sizes and colors. She quickly went to the counter and asked for the books on Ethan's shopping list, not even bothering to browse the other books that lined the shelves.
As John watched her make the purchase, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of disappointment. He had hoped to get a few more books, just in case. But as he opened his mouth to ask, the woman cut him off.
"Trust me, John, you don't need any more books," she said firmly. "I know it's tempting, I was once a Ravenclaw, but believe me when I say that Hogwarts has an extensive library that will provide everything you need for your studies. There's no need to waste any more Galleons."
John couldn't help but feel a bit frustrated at the woman's words. Books were his gateway to understanding magic. It was the only truly interesting thing about this world, and he was determined to learn everything he possibly could about magic. He thought about casting spells, pondering why incantations were needed and why the waving of a wand was necessary. It all seemed incredibly foolish to him, and yet it was an integral part of everyday life for the witches and wizards around him. Why would they use a dead language for some spells when they English at their disposal? He wondered if there was some deeper reason behind the practice, some hidden meaning or symbolism that he was missing. Or perhaps it was just a convention that had been passed down through generations of wizards without any real justification. He felt frustrated by the arbitrary and seemingly illogical nature of the magical world.
Would he even be able to do magic? Would a wand work for him? He wasn't real Ethan. Would he find his place in this new society? And if not, could he perhaps change the world? Could he somehow make it better, more interesting, more magical? The idea of adding a sense of mystery and adventure to this world, which seemed so lacking in both, was tempting. But then, a part of him wondered if it was even possible. After all, this was a world that had been around for centuries, with traditions and rules deeply ingrained in its culture. Could one person really make a difference? The mundanity of it all felt suffocating, like a weight on his chest that he couldn't escape. He knew he he could not bear to live a second life of drudgery and monotony. And so, he resolved that if there was even a slightest chance of making a change, he would take it, no matter the cost.
It wasn't until the soft chime of the shop's door alerted him to their arrival that he realized they had entered Twilfitt and Tattings. The interior of the shop was opulent, with glistening mirrors and polished wooden floors. Mannequins with the weirdest wizarding fashion lined the walls, wearing elaborate robes with shimmering fabric that caught the light and glittered like diamonds.
John watched as Ethan's mother and her daughter bustled around the store, picking out the finest fabrics and most fashionable styles. He couldn't help but feel indifferent about it all. Clothes were just clothes, after all, and he had never been one to care much about fashion. As long as they were clean and functional, he was content. John's attention was drawn to the shopkeeper who seemed to know Ethan's mother. As she addressed her as Mrs. Eisendorn. Finally, a surname to attach to his family.
As John's mother and the shopkeeper discussed the quality of the school robes, a new pair of customers entered the store, drawing his attention. The man had an aura of power and confidence that demanded respect. He stood tall and proud, his broad shoulders accentuated by the fine tailoring of his suit. Even his gait exuded a sense of purpose and control, as he led his daughter through the store with an air of authority.
Before he could give them more thought, John's mother noticed the pair and greeted them, "Cygnus! It's been ages since we last saw each other."
John could see the shift in the man's demeanor. His previously imposing figure seemed to soften, and his eyes lit up as he smiled warmly in return. It was a surprising sight to John, who had seen the man's cold exterior only moments before.
"Indeed it has, Rosalinda. I must say, it's a pleasant surprise to run into you here."
As John watched the interaction between Rosalinda and the man named Cygnus, he couldn't help but wonder if there had been something between them in the past. There was a familiarity in the way they spoke to each other, a warmth that suggested far more than just a passing acquaintance.
"We're here to get Ethan his school robes. And who is this lovely young lady with you?"
Cygnus turned to the girl beside him. "This is my eldest, Bellatrix. She'll be starting at Hogwarts this year as well."
A chill ran down John's spine as he heard the name. Cygnus and Bellatrix Black. The realization hit him like a ton of bricks - this innocent-looking girl standing before him would grow into a psychotic killer he knew from the books and movies.
"And this is Ethan and Evelyn. Maybe they'll end up being fast friends just like us," John's mother said.
Cygnus' smile faltered slightly.
"Let's hope they do better," he said, his tone tinged with sadness. "It seems like just yesterday that we were starting at Hogwarts ourselves. Time really flies, doesn't it?"
He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. It was as if he was reliving some distant memory from the past.
"Indeed," Rosalinda agreed.
Bellatrix said nothing, her grey eyes unflinching as they bore into John's. Her gaze was intense, as though she were sizing him up and evaluating him in some unfathomable way. It was difficult for John to comprehend how an eleven-year-old girl could possess such a piercing stare. John found himself wanting to look away from Bellatrix's intense gaze, but he forced himself to maintain eye contact. He had a strange feeling that it was important to do so.
"Found a worthy opponent I see," Rosalinda said suddenly with a hint of amusement, directing her attention to John. "Why don't you introduce yourself properly to the young lady?"
"Name's Ethan," John said calmly. "Ethan Eisendorn."
"Bellatrix Black," she said. "Delighted to make your acquaintance, Mr. Eisendorn."
Oh joy.
"The pleasure is mutual, Miss Black. I look forward to seeing you at Hogwarts."
Rosalinda and Cygnus appeared amused by their introductions, sharing chuckles.
"Don't be so formal, Bella. Ethan is your cousin," Cygnus said.
"Call me Bella or Bellatrix, whichever suits your fancy," Bellatrix said. "It makes no difference to me."
"Ethan works for me," John replied with a shrug.
"Evelyn, why don't you introduce yourself too?" Rosalinda asked, looking at her daughter.
Evelyn let out a timid "hello," but as Bellatrix turned to face her, the younger girl concealed herself behind her mother's protective back.
"Please, be gentle with your cousin, Bella," Cygnus interjected.
Bellatrix shifted her intense gaze on Rosalinda.
"Oh, how lovely to finally meet my dear aunt," she drawled with a hint of bitterness. "My late mother spoke so highly of you, and yet, you couldn't be bothered to show up to her funeral. How touching of a sister you are."
"Bella! I apologize on behalf of daughter. Please, forgive her. She can be a bit unruly at times."
Rosalinda waved her hand dismissively. "No, it's quite alright. I understand why she feels that way. Family is important, after all."
Bellatrix's face contorted into a scowl, but she remained silent. Cygnus shifted uncomfortably, but quickly composed himself and cleared his throat.
"Bella needs a wand," he said, trying to change the subject. "Would you like to accompany us once we're finished here?"
"Of course," Rosalinda agreed. "We have to pay a visit to Olivanders as well."
While the shopkeeper measured Bellatrix for her school robes, John discreetly cast his gaze upon her. He couldn't help but ponder how a young girl like her could develop into a psychotic killer who would subject someone to torture or kill her own kin. Had she been inclined to such tendencies from the start, or did an unfathomable event change her?
As the group left the shop and made their way to Olivanders, John couldn't shake off the thoughts about Bellatrix and her ultimate fate. He couldn't fathom how someone could transform into such a twisted and malevolent being. John couldn't help but wonder if his own ambitions to change this world would one day lead him down a path of madness similar to Bellatrix.
When they stepped into Olivander's wand shop, a bell chimed somewhere inside, announcing their arrival. The air inside was filled with the aroma of polished wood and dust. The shelves were stacked high with slender boxes, each containing a wand. In the dim light, John could see a man with a rather short and slender figure behind the counter. He was bent over, inspecting a wand.
"Good afternoon," the man said. "Ah, Mr Black and Mrs Eisendorn. I do hope that your wands have been receiving the proper care they deserve."
Cygnus stepped forward, addressing the man. "We're here to purchase wands for Bellatrix and Ethan," he said, gesturing towards them. "They will be starting at Hogwarts this year."
Ollivander's eyes flickered towards John and Bellatrix. "Ah, of course," he said, a mysterious twinkle in his eye. "We mustn't keep the young ones waiting. And what about your wand arms?"
"We're right-handed," Bellatrix said, a hint of confidence in her voice.
John raised an eyebrow in surprise, wondering how Bellatrix could have known he was right-handed. As if reading his thoughts, she looked at him with a smug expression and said, "It's quite simple, really. You used your right hand to open the door."
As Ollivander measured their arms, John watched intently, curious as to why it was even necessary. John couldn't help but wonder if the whole concept of wands choosing their owners was merely a gimmick to make the wandlore seem more mysterious than it really was. The wandmaker finally nodded seemingly to himself and made his way over to the boxes of wands. John watched with interest as the wandmaker began to shift through the boxes, muttering to himself under his breath. Every so often, Ollivander would stop at a particular box and then move on, as if the right wand was still eluding him. Finally, he located the right box and retrieved a dark-brown wand with a long, curved handle.
"Try this one," he said, handing the wand to Bellatrix.
The girl took the wand and gave it a swish. A shower of sparks erupted from the end, lighting up the shop with their bright colors. Ollivander nodded approvingly.
"Yes, yes, an easy match. Twelve- and three-quarter inches, walnut with a dragon heartstring core. Unyielding."
As Cygnus placed the coins on the counter, Ollivander's eyes were already scanning the boxes for another wand. He seemed to find what he was looking for quickly and picked up a short, dark wand with a narrow handle.
"Ten and a half inches, ebony and unicorn hair," Ollivander said as he handed it to John. "Give it a wave, young man."
He took the wand, his fingers wrapping around the smooth handle. But before he could even take a closer look, the wandmaker had already snatched it back, his eyes narrowing.
"Not this one," he said with a frown, before turning his attention back to the boxes. John couldn't help but wonder what made Olivander so certain about the wands he was choosing.
After a few moments, his fingers found a long exquisite wand with a fine, polished finish. As John took it, a shower of bright sparks erupted from its tip, casting a fiery glow that illuminated the entire room again. As John held his wand, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. He could do magic. It was as if the wand was imbuing him with a confidence, giving a strange sensation of power. The coolness of the wand against his skin sent shivers down his spine, and for a moment, he felt as though he could conquer the world with a flick of his wrist.
"Perfect match," Ollivander declared, his voice tinged with admiration. "Thirteen inches, willow and phoenix feather, a rare combination for a wand, I must say."
As they left Olivander's wand shop, the bustling streets of Diagon Alley greeted them with the lively sounds of magical commerce. John clutched his wand tightly. They moved from store to store and as they walked, John found himself lost in thought, his mind consumed with thoughts of his future. Despite the hustle and bustle of the crowded streets, John was only vaguely aware of his surroundings. He was deep in contemplation about the challenges that lay ahead and what he needed to do to succeed. As he walked, he couldn't help but feel Bellatrix's gaze on him.
She walked beside him in silence, and every so often, she would glance at him, making him feel uncomfortable. Her interest in him was a stark contrast to her dismissive attitude towards Evelyn and her cold demeanor towards Rosalinda.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, signaling the end of their day in Diagon Alley, it was time for John and his family to bid farewell to the Blacks. Bellatrix only offered a cold nod as they exchanged goodbyes. But just as they were about to use the Floo Network to head home, Bellatrix approached John.
"Ethan," Bella said, catching him off guard. "If you want to meet before Hogwarts, owl me."
He hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to make of Bellatrix's offer.
"Thanks, Bellatrix," he said with a small nod. "I'll keep that in mind."