Emily stood in the middle of her room amidst the bedlam of dirty clothing, her mind moving at a hundred miles an hour.
"Me…a witch." She murmured breathlessly, still trying to come to terms with what she'd just been told. "Magic really does exist."
She dragged yesterday's jeans over her slender hips, and began a quest for a relatively clean shirt. She lost herself in thoughts. Her mother never knocked, so it shouldn't have surprised her to hear the intrusion into her room. But it did, and she jumped back a few feet when she realized she wasn't alone.
"Em, you've got to hurry up, Professor Dumbledore is waiting."
She rolled her eyes, brushing a loose strand of hair away from her face. "I'm going, I'm going." And she lifted the next shirt she found off the floor, bringing it to her nose to check for cleanliness.
Josie shuddered. "That is beyond disgusting. We're going to have to talk about that."
"Yeah, Mum. Okay." She dragged off her pajama top, but before she could pull the new shirt over her head, her mother stopped her.
"How'd you do that?" Josie asked her daughter, voice filled with concern.
"Do what?"
Her mother stepped closer, gently touched her daughters back. "Get this bruise…"
Emily tried, unsuccessfully to get a look at the clover shaped mark on her spine. Eventually, she gave up, shrugging. "No idea. I must've hit it on the playground or something."
"Be more careful, okay?" she said finally, biting down on her lip.
The little girl nodded and pulled her tee-shirt on quickly then. She grabbed her mother's hand, and bounded down the hallway to where her father stood, deep in conversation with Dumbledore.
"Ready, Miss Parker?" he said softly, blue eyes twinkling behind half moon spectacles.
Emily nodded animatedly.
"Where, exactly, are we going?" Matt asked quietly, as they made their way down the rainy streets of Kensington.
Dumbledore pursed his lips, and then pointed ahead of them. "There. Gloucester Street Underground."
"That's not much of a destination…" Emily's father grumbled.
"Just a stop along the way, my good man. We'll get there eventually."
"So, we get to ride the tube?" Emily asked with a sly smile.
"Indeed we do. Actually," he said thinking aloud, "We need to change lines, if my memory serves me correctly, as it usually does."
"We can only catch the Piccadilly, District, or Circle lines from this station." Emily informed him, proud of her own knowledge.
"Right." Dumbledore acknowledged. "And do you know where we can switch to the Bakerloo line?" he asked her, although he clearly already knew.
"Piccadilly Circus." She responded confidently. "One time, Edward and I went there. Just to see what it was like…" she trailed off, looked up at her parents. "Oops."
"Oops is right young lady." Her father said sternly, swiping his card, stepping into the train station. "How many times have we told you not to go off on your own like that?"
"A lot." She sighed, swiped her own card. "But I wasn't alone, I was with Edward…" she supplied.
"Yes, because Edward Reeve, a twelve year old boy is exactly who you should be traveling to random parts of London with." Her mother added sarcastically.
"It's over and done with. Let it go." Emily muttered through gritted teeth. "I'm sorry."
Her father sighed, and climbed onto the waiting train. Inhaling deeply, he turned his attention back to Dumbledore. "You said we had to change to the Bakerloo line? And exactly, where, are we getting off?"
The train picked up speed, carrying the four through South Kensington, and passing towns. "Charring Cross, I believe."
"You believe?" Matt asked with a raised eyebrow.
Dumbledore smiled kindly. "I'm quite certain." He amended.
Matt muttered something inaudible, and became very interested in the poster on the wall.
"Muggles everywhere…" an older man grumbled as he began chasing after two young boys, one of whom had the same unruly black hair as his father; they had just sped past the Parkers.
"Mr. Potter, so nice to see you again." Dumbledore commented to the man, who'd given up the chase of his son.
"Albus…I didn't see you there."
"Yes, it's rather interesting how easily focused we are when our children are involved…" he trailed off, his voice lingering on a wistful note.
Thomas Potter's brow furrowed deeply, trying to understand exactly what Dumbledore had been trying to express. "Well… I… Oy! You lot!" he rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the boys, clearly irritated that James and his friend had managed to push their way past the Parker's and press their noses against the Plexiglas window of the train. "That's quite disgusting."
Dumbledore chuckled when he realized that Emily had joined the ranks of the boys, her breath too, fogging up the glass.
"Look. If you do this, you can make a smiley face." She stage-whispered and made a gesture with her hands, drawing on the glass.
"Smiley faces are for girls." James added stubbornly, and he folded his arms over his chest.
"Well, I am a girl." Emily finished, thrusting her tongue out at him.
"Yeah, mate." The other boy added "I think she is."
"Who's side are you on, Peter?" James added with a roll of his eyes. "So, I'm James, by the way. James Potter. And this is Peter Pettigrew."
"Emily Parker." She said quietly "But I don't like you."
James laughed loudly. "I'm heartbroken. A girl doesn't like me."
"You'll be sorry." She muttered. "I'm a witch. I'll curse you."
"Ooo scary." The boys chorused. "I'll bet she's nothing but a big Muggle."
"Am not. Don't call me that."
"Do you even know what it means?" James challenged
Emily bit down on her lip. "No." she admitted halfheartedly. "But… it didn't sound nice."
"It means non-magic." Peter added
"Duh." James finished
The girl brightened. "Well. I'm not a Muggle. I'm going to Hogwarts. It's a school of magic."
"We know that. We're going there too. Actually we're on our way to pick up our things now. Isn't that right, Peter?"
"Uh… yeah." His attention was directed at the glass, where he was enjoying drawing a wide array of things in the fog of his breath.
The conductor announced their arrival at Piccadilly Circus, and now a group of seven, they disembarked, and made their way towards the next train.
"So, doya know what house you'll be in?"
"House?" Emily asked, curiously.
"Yeah, at Hogwarts. Its like, where you live. There's four of them, Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin." James turned his attention to his friend. "My whole family's been in Gryffindor." He looked up proudly at his father, who smiled gently. "I think I'd die if they put me in Slytherin, yeah?"
Peter nodded fervently, saying nothing.
"Why's Slytherin bad?" Emily prodded
"You-Know-Who was in Slytherin."
The girl wrinkled her nose. "Um…Who?"
"The bad wizard. We don't say his name." Peter whispered.
Disapproving, Dumbledore looked down. "Fear of a name only increases fear of the thing itself. Lord Voldermort. Call him his rightful name. Lest he control us all."
"Albus, he's killed people…" Thomas spoke softly. "Its understandable that people are afraid…"
Josie Parker looked terrified. "But… I mean… you can do magic… surely you can stop him."
James Potter laughed and rolled his eyes. "Well yeah, but the bad guys can do magic too."
"Thus the dilemma." Dumbledore finished. "But you've nothing to worry about." He said softly. "Hogwarts is quite safe."
Josie didn't look reassured.
Again, the group left the train; began a trek through the rain, coming to a halt outside a raggy looking pub.
"I'm sorry… we're stopping here because…" Matt asked no one in particular.
James laughed. "We have to go through the Leaky Cauldron to get to Diagon Alley."
The bar was near empty. The barman looked up, hopeful for business. "Just passin' through" someone muttered.
They stumbled through the back door, seven people crowding in the tight space. Thomas Potter removed his wand, tapped the third brick from the top, expanding an archway large enough for all seven to pass through comfortably.
"Welcome," James said dramatically. "To Diagon Alley."
Emily felt her mouth hang open, knew it was rude, but did nothing to close it. The tops of the buildings leaned inwards, creating an arch affect throughout the whole street. It was impossibly crowded, with people moving to and fro, side street vendors trying to push their goods off on unsuspecting consumers.
"First stop, Gringotts."
"What's that?" Emily asked, eager to learn everything she could about the wizarding community.
"Our bank" James supplied helpfully. "Its run by goblins."
"Goblins?" Matt asked astonished.
Thomas nodded. "You'd be crazy to try and rob it that way."
"Oh. I see." Emily said quickly, then paused, clearly debating asking another question. "So… tell me more about the Hogwarts houses…"
"Well there's Gryffindor. All the really brave students go there. And then Hufflepuff… that's where the loyal friends all end up… they say. But really that's where they stick everyone who doesn't belong anywhere else."
"James!" his father chastised.
"I'll bet I end up there."
"Better than Slytherin. That's for the bad 'uns. And Ravenclaw is where all the smart kids go."
Emily pondered this for a moment. "How do you…" she turned her attention to Dumbledore. "How do you get sorted?"
"That's a secret. You'll find out when you get there." As they arrived at the Gringotts steps, he looked around. "All right, that ought to do it." He glanced down at Emily. "You've your list then?"
She fished in her pocket, drawing out the thick parchment. "Right here, sir."
"Good. You can change your money here, for we use a different kind… and all the stores are clearly marked. You shouldn't have a problem."
Matt nodded. "Okay then. Thank you."
Dumbledore nodded, and turned, vanishing on the spot.
Mr. Parker made his way up to the high counter, offered his Pounds and Pence in exchange for Golden Galleons, Silver Sickles and Bronze Knuts.
Thomas began explaining it to him. "Okay, There's seventeen sickles to a galleon, and twenty nine knuts to a sickle. Its simple enough, once you have the hang of it."
Still nodding his head, completing the mental math, he turned to his daughter. "So, Em, what did you want to get first?"
The girl pondered this for a moment, then spoke softly. "I'd like to get a wand."
"Good choice!" James responded enthusiastically. "We'll see you after we visit our vaults, I suppose?" He looked at Emily, who nodded, clearly pleased to have gained their approval. "You'll be wanting Ollivander's!" He called out, as the Parkers, once again a group of three, set off down the cobblestone street.
Easily the most battered looking shop on the street, Emily paused outside the dirty window under the sign reading: Ollivander's, Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. On a lone purple pillow in the display rested a single wand. A bell chimed as they entered the store.
The man that greeted them was very old. The lines on his face a distinct roadmap of the places he'd be, of the things he'd seen. He looked at Emily for a very long time before speaking.
"You'll be off to Hogwarts then?"
She nodded, almost afraid to speak.
"And which is your wand arm?"
"Erm… well I'm left handed…"
Mr. Ollivander took out his tape measure, and began to run it down the length of her arm, and of her entire body. "Yes, you're the first of your family to attend Hogwarts, no?"
"Er – well I think so. But how did you know that?"
"I remember every wand I've ever sold. And almost every student who attends Hogwarts buys their wands from right here."
Emily looked around the dingy shop, violet eyes wide with the shock of youth. "Seriously?"
His lined mouth turned up at its corners. "Seriously."
"That'll do." He said to the tape measure – which was moving on its own now. And he disappeared between the long isles of boxes.
"This is crazy." Josie whispered. "Stuff like this… it just doesn't happen."
Matt said nothing, simply laced fingers with his wife.
"Here we are." He dumped a handful of long thin boxes on the counter. Some looked new, and some looked quite old. "Try this. Phoenix feather core, and holly. 10 inches long, rather whippy."
"What… what do I do?" she whispered, embarrassed by her lack of knowledge, and secretly pleased James and Peter had gone. At least they didn't have to witness this.
"Just give it a wave. The wand chooses the wizard, Miss Parker. Remember that."
So she did. She waved the wand in the air, feeling rather foolish.
"No. No. Here." He replaced the wand with another. "Cherry and Unicorn Hair. 13 inches, firm. Nice wand for transfiguration work."
But no sooner had she raised her arm in the air then Mr. Ollivander had snatched the wand back. "Dragon Heartstring, and Mahogany. Supple. 7 inches."
A certain warmth she hadn't expected spread through her arm. Instantly, she knew this was the wand she would want, the one that would allow her to harness her magic. She waved it gently, a shower of sparks rained down. Again, Mr. Ollivander graced her with a rare smile. Her mother handed over seven of the strange golden coins they'd just gotten, and he bowed them from his shop.
Back in the light of the street, Emily could clearly see James waving at her from the other end of the alley. Peter looked doubled over. Dragging her parents behind her, she raced back to her new friends.
"What's up with him?" she asked quickly, jerking a thumb in Peter's direction.
"He doesn't like the Gringotts carts much. They go pretty fast."
"Like a roller coaster?"
"Yes, exactly." James finished, just as Peter raced to a nearby rubbish can and was violently ill. "What a baby."
"I feel better now." The other boy said sheepishly, and joined his friends once more.
Together, they set off down the street, into a world of magic, into a world unknown.