The next day Tom found himself in London. Muggle London, he reminded himself. Now that he knew that he was special and everyone else roaming the streets were not, he felt so much more superior to them, even more superior than he did when had found out that he was able to hurt each and every one of them. Soon, he reached a small pub that no one seemed to notice as they walked by. On the tattered awning read "The Leaky Cauldron" in large, black letters, and Tom knew that he found the right place.
Upon entering, he saw that it was quite the populated place. There were men with coffee stirring itself as they read an unfamiliar newspaper, there were strange looking woman wearing balaclavas over their faces and some short, stubby men with withered old faces and pointed ears. They seemed to be discussing an important matter in a foreign language.
Tom immediately spotted a toothy, grinning old man with wispy, graying hair standing behind the bar wiping down a glass with a rag. Assuming this to be the barman, Tom, he walked briskly to him, anticipating entering this brand new place that would be swarming with wizards and witches like him.
"Excuse me?" He asked politely to the barman. "I'm a new student at Hogwarts, and I was hoping that you'd help me to get to Diagon Alley? Professor Dumbledore said you would know." He knew he got the innocent little boy act down pat, as he always did. The barman's smile widened.
"Well, of course I do! Lots of kids come around here for help, it's what I do!" Setting the cleaned glass down, the barman rounded the counter and came to stand next to him. "It's just out the back door." He said as he lead him to a door at the back of the pub. "Now, tell me," he said, "what's your name, kid?"
"Tom," he said quickly, craning his neck to see Diagon Alley. "So, where is it? I don't see it!"
The barman grinned. "That's my name, too! That's quite the coincidence. Now, watch this!" And then he took out his wand and tapped a few bricks on the wall. Tom watched warily as the bricks started to move, and then spread out to reveal a magical looking place. Tom gaped in awe. There were shops everywhere, people wandering about, and what on earth were they all wearing? They looked like robes!
"Well, I'll leave you to it!" Tom the barman said. "Nice meeting you, Tom!" And with a cheerful wave, he was gone.
"Yes, nice to meet you, Tom." He muttered, and then stared some more, before pulling himself together and walking slowly through the village. He pulled out his list of things he needed for the year. Uniform, books…and a cauldron? How weird, he thought as he wandered through the village, observing the children run around and the mothers discuss products and such. Scanning through his list, Tom decided to look around the village and the stores first, then buy what he needed, leaving the books for last, of course, as they were the heaviest. He had all day, after all.
He passed by a shop that looked like it was displaying a sport, but it didn't look like soccer or any of the other sports he'd ever played. It was called Quality Quidditch Supplies. Curious, Tom wandered into the store. There were brooms (brooms?) all around, as well as padding gear, jerseys and strange looking balls. In a corner of the shop was a stand with books on it. That was promising, Tom decided, and headed over there. One book was named The Quidditch Handbook. Tom opened this one and began to read.
It seemed to him like this Quidditch was quite the popular sport, though it held no interest to him. Who would want to fly around on a wooden stick, get beaten by large blunt balls and risk humiliation from peers when losing? He wondered. Better yet, who would even want to watch this kind of stuff? It sounds so tiresome.
After giving the Quidditch shop one last glace, Tom reentered Diagon Alley and wandered some more. He stopped by an ice cream shop and bought some sort of coffee flavored ice cream that he'd never tasted or heard of before, but he liked the bittersweet taste of it. As he licked the ice cream happily, he continued on his way. He tried to remember where all the shops were so he would find them after.
Soon, Tom decided he had wandered long enough and once again pulled out his list. Noticing that Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was the nearest, he decided to go there first. Pocketing the list, he entered the robes shop and rang the bell on the counter. A middle-aged woman came bustling forwards, greeting him warmly.
"Ah, a Hogwarts student! A bit late, now, aren't you? The train is leaving in a few days, I believe!"
"Yes, I only just got informed of Hogwarts yesterday. Do you work here? I need school robes."
"Of course, dear. Come on over here, and I'll take your measurements."
After a few minutes of measuring and tailoring his robes, Tom was satisfied with his new clothing. Although it was rather strange to be wearing robes, he thought it was interesting how wizard dressed differently than muggles, and was eager to start wearing them; to start acting like the wizard he was.
Next he went to the Apothecary, where he bought a cauldron, a telescope, brass scales, some rather peculiar looking potion ingredients and a set of glass phials. He spend a bit of time looking at all of the gruesome looking ingredients that took up quite a bit of the space in the store, and then left. Now was the moment he was most anticipating; buying his wand.
It was to be bought at Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. Tom entered the shop excitedly, though he kept his face blank. An old, balding wizard with grey, spooky looking eyes was sitting at the counter, peering at a battered wand on its' cushion. Tom looked around the cramped shop. The walls were covered with rows and rows of narrow boxes that he presumed all held wands ready to be bought.
"Good Afternoon," said the old man so quietly and suddenly that Tom almost jumped in surprise.
"Yes, Hello. I'd like to buy a wand, please." He said politely, but firmly. He eyed a box on the shelf nearest him and made to grab for it.
"Ah!" Said Mr. Ollivanders, smiling. "It seems you do not know much about wands, is it?"
"They make magic," said Tom dully. He didn't want a whole lesson! He just wanted to buy the wand and get going.
"Alas, no. It is the wizard – or witch - that makes the magic. The wand is simply a guidance, something to help you focus your command into magic. You cannot simply pick a wand and buy it, Tom." Tom whipped around so quickly that he heard his neck crick. How did he know his name? He eyed the old man suspiciously. Mr. Ollivanders continued on as if he did not see his reaction. "The wand chooses the wizard. Now, come over here, we'll see what we can find for you."
Tom was wary of this man. How did he know his name? It wasn't written in bold across his forehead, and it wasn't as if he was widely known in the wizarding world, or in any world for that matter. Nevertheless, eager as he was to receive his wand, he approached the old man and allowed him to take measurements of all sorts of places of his body. As he did, Mr. Ollivander told him all about different wand cores and the like. Tom found the subject intriguing, though the wandmaker's voice was so emotionless that it was almost monotonous. Tom didn't like to listen to monotonous voices at all, but did so, as he wanted to learn as much as possible about magic before he went to Hogwarts.
Mr. Ollivander then rummaged amongst the many wands and picked out a narrow black box. Opening it, he removed a wand and handed it to Tom. Tom looked at it curiously.
"Yew and Phoenix feather, thirteen and a half inches. Give it a wave, then." Tom did as instructed, and jumped backwards in awe. Jets of blue and silver were streaming endlessly out of the tip of the wand. Tom instinctively gave it a small jerk and the jets stopped. Mr. Ollivander beamed.
"Yes, then, this is absolutely perfect. It seems that you complete this wand! Now hand it over, I'll wrap it up nicely for you." Tom handed the wand back numbly. What he felt when the jets came out…it was like he held all the power in the world. It was amazing! It was…magical.
Tom was still flabbergasted as he paid seven galleons for his new wand, though when he was reunited with the wand, he fingered the plain box lovingly as he exited the shop without another word.
Now all he had left to do was buy the books at Flourish and Blotts. He was also excited to go here; everything he needed to know about magic was all in this shop! He entered the shop, grinning, and looked around at the books. First he located the ones he needed for school (deciding then that he would read them later) then proceeded to look around at the other books. He found some interesting ones that he was very tempted to buy, but resisted. After all, the bookkeeper said he was positive that all the books here (and even more so) could be found in the extensive Hogwarts library, so there was no need to waste money when he could go ahead and read them for free in a few days time.
As he left the bookstore, Tom consulted his watch. It was already almost dinner time, so he headed back towards the brick entrance and out the front door and back to the dreary muggle world.
Author's Note: I'm amazed. Or I WAS amazed. I wrote two chapters in one day! (although the second was finished past midnight, lol). Hope you've all liked it. I know that it is rather boring, and I'm sure the next one will be too (but you should read it anyways! Hehe) but that will be the last chapter of this story, whereas the next one will be starting Hogwarts! Anyways, I'm off. Please review!