Chapter 4: Stuff and Stuff
The return trip home was mostly uneventful, with occasional questions from Shal to break the silence. He was still curious about what it was going to be like. School, and a school for magic at that. It was all so new, so alien. In a matter of days, his life had changed drastically, from living an ordinary life in the country to receiving education from someone other than his family. On top of that, if his suspicions were correct, he was going to be spending a large amount of time away from home, and away from his family. Nervousness joined the excitement, and a spark of anxiety began to form inside his heart. That anxiety became worry when they reached their home in the hills of Britain.
As his mother moved aside the boulder, Shal came up to her and asked another question.
"Do you really think I should go?"
"Of course, you…" his mother began. Upon releasing the boulder on the ground, she looked to her son and saw his dismay. "What's wrong? You look worried."
"It's all just so much for me," Shal said. "Life was normal. Then, all of a sudden, I'm going away to boarding school to learn magic."
"I thought you were excited about learning magic," his mother said, concerned.
"Well, I am. However, I realized on the ride home that…this is going to be the first time I'll be away from home, and from my family, for more than just a few hours."
They went inside, and his mother sealed the entrance way. "Shal, this is all part of growing up," she said. "You will have to leave home someday, and you will find yourself a lair all your own. We cannot look after you forever."
"But Mom, I'm just eleven years old," Shal said, distressed. "I'm still a kid. I don't want to have to go out on my own yet."
"You aren't," his mother said, trying to comfort him. "You are going to school. You're not moving away for good."
"I'm gonna be the only dragon in an entire school of humans," Shal said, on the verge of tears. "I'm gonna miss you, and Dad, and everybody else."
"Don't be that way," Calohexitharas replied, holding her son close. "It's not even a whole year. Just nine months. Your father and I will write to you often. Concentrate on your studies, and try to make new friends while you are there. And be strong. Don't let the humans see you upset like this."
Shal sniffled a little bit. "Okay. I'll be fine." He gave his mother a hug, and they went down into the main chamber.
After the day they visited Hogwarts, Shal's life returned to normal. He read and listened to his music. His parents had managed to obtain both electricity and an internet line, so the family had access to the net. Shal had recently purchased a copy of StarCraft: Brood War for the computer, and he played online all the time. He almost completely forgot about boarding school. He was too busy pwning with the Protoss. Those noobs could not take his 1337 skillz.
Two days later, while immersed in a tough game of Lurker TD, his father returned from hunting with something strange. Shal told his teammates g2g, and logged out. Turning around, he saw his father clutching what appeared to be an owl. It was flapping its wings madly, but its efforts were in vain due to Versvechverthicha's prodigious strength. He released the bird, and it flew around in rapid circles on the high ceiling of the cave. It hovered in place for a second, and Shal noticed it was carrying something in its talons. The owl then released that something, and it drifted lazily to the floor. Shal knew it to be a letter. He rushed to retrieve it. Meanwhile, his father ordered one of his sons, Hyjoxar, to climb up, grab the bird, and guide it out of the cave.
"Strange," Shal said. "It's addressed to me. I never get mail." On the back, in bright green (green? he thought) letters:
Shaloxeroligon
The Cave under the Ground
North Winsington
Yorkshire
Suddenly, he realized who it was from, and opened it, ravenously. His siblings gathered around. He read the letter to himself. It went thusly:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Shaloxeroligon,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please 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 Sincerely,
(Nigh unintelligible signature)
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
Shal smiled. "What's it say?" Miir asked.
"It says…I've been accepted!" Shal exclaimed.
His siblings cheered and patted him on the back. His brothers each gave him a complementary punch in the arm.
"Wait," Shal said. "It says, 'We await your owl by no later than July 31.' What does that mean?"
The owl returned from outside, since Hyjoxar was not strong enough to move the boulder back into position. Calohexitharas suddenly realized what it meant.
"We have to write a letter of reply," she said, "give it to the owl, and return it to the sender."
Shal snickered. "That's a weird way to get snail mail."
Verselathearbensvelk, his eldest sister (who was about ten), asked, "Why don't they just use spells of sending? It would be so much easier."
"They're humans," said Askoort, his second oldest sister (about eight). "They're stupid."
The children laughed.
Calohexitharas called Shal over to her. "I need you to write a reply letter. That owl can't just sit there forever."
Shal nodded. He went to the supply alcove, retrieved a piece of parchment and some choice writing utensils, and quickly scrawled, "Dear Professor Dumbledore. I agree to attend Hogwarts…" he paused to swallow a chuckle, "…this autumn. See you in September. Signed, Shaloxeroligon."
He folded it up and handed it to the owl. It picked it up in its beak, flapped its wings, and flew out the lair into the night. Versvechverthicha quickly sealed the cave.
The days passed by uneventfully. Shal pwned online, and everyone else did what they enjoyed most. Finally, around the middle of August, Shal remembered something.
"Mom?" he called, still facing the computer monitor. "Could you come here a minute?"
She walked up behind him and said, "What is it, Shal?"
"I just remembered something," he said. "We have to buy books and equipment for school."
She cursed under her breath. "Well, I kind of wished you had told me sooner. Go get your letter."
Shal said g2g to his team, logged out, and hurried to retrieve the letter. Little did he notice the first time he read it that there were two additional letters lined up behind the first one. One was a materials list, which he ignored and put to the side, and the other one was strange. It was hand-written on a piece of light-blue parchment.
Dear Calohexitharas (Shal noticed that her name was misspelled.),
I have taken the liberty of writing this to make your preparations for this school a little easier. Our currency system is different from that of the muggles (non-magic folk). We use gold galleons, silver sickles, and copper knuts as our coinage. Other currencies can be exchanged for these at Gringotts bank. The one place that is best for purchasing books and equipment is Diagon Alley. There are numerous shops there, and the prices are cheap. If you do not know the way there, I have taken the liberty of enchanting this letter. All you have to do is hold the letter with both hands and say "butter-hopscotch" and you will be whisked away to Diagon Alley. Repeat this process to return to where you began. I suggest changing your form before you use this letter.
Sincerely yours,
Professor Albus Dumbledore.
He handed the letter to his mother, who read it quickly. She smiled at the end.
"What?" Shal asked. "What's so funny?"
"It's not that it's funny, it's that it's interesting. I'll be right back."
Calohexitharas left Shal wondering. What was so interesting? He remembered it mentioning "changing her form." He became worried when his mother returned, carrying a large burlap sack. A loud jingling sound came from its contents.
"Shal," she asked, "you read the letter, right?"
He nodded.
"Do you think a dragon would really fit in a city of humans?"
He shook his head, realization entering his head.
"Close your eyes until I say to open them," his mother said. "And try to stay calm. This may feel… a little weird."
Shal shut his eyes, tightly, out of fear. His mother began to chant in that strange tongue, and that all too familiar squishing sound coming from his mother's direction. It ended almost as fast as it started. She then began to chant again, the same chant, but with slight variations. Immediately after it ended, Shal felt the strangest sensation. He felt like he was growing, like his body was being shaped anew. He felt as if he were being stretched against his will, being forced into a new shape by unseen energies. That disturbing squishing sound reappeared, but it was coming from him. He was so utterly repulsed that he wanted to run away screaming, but he knew he had to keep his calm.
What seemed like an eternity in a gelatinous hell was mere seconds, and they passed before he could even realize it. His mother commanded him to open his eyes.
He did so. The world around him was less focused, in details that were less sharp than before. The room seemed darker than he was used to. Shal then realized that he was standing on two legs. He looked down at himself. Where there was once the body of a dragon, a thin, human form met his eyes. He was clothed in all black, wearing a long-sleeved, button-down shirt, and jet black khaki pants. On his feet were black shoes that came to a point. He then noticed his hands. His skin was soft, and not scaled, which was a very alien sensation. His mother, who was in the body of that beautiful human woman from before, directed him toward the scrying pool. It was difficult to walk on two legs after eleven years of being on four. He took his first, cautious steps toward the scrying pool. It was still, showing only the reflection of the cave above. He looked into it, nervous about what he might find. He saw his face. He had flame-red hair, light freckles, eyes of the richest turquoise, and a short, semi-pointed nose. He withdrew in surprise.
"Well, what do you think?" Calohexitharas asked, in a voice not her own.
"Um…" Shal said, realizing the new sound of his voice, as well, "…It's…different…to put it simply…"
"I guess we had better be going, then," his mother replied.
She then polymorphed his father, who had come to join them, into a human. He became a tall, burly man with a beard, wearing a loose-fitting fleece shirt and denim pants. He lifted the burlap sack, which was obviously filled with gold from their hoard, and grasped the paper with both hands. Shal and his mother did the same on the opposite side of the paper.
"Well," said Calohexitharas, "here goes nothing. Butter-hopscotch!"
Immediately after she said this, all three of them felt a strange pulling sensation, like they were being lifted bodily by their centers of mass. The world melted away into bright light, and they were transported through a swirling world of blue light. Almost as quickly as it began, it ended. They were thrown onto the ground, which had become hard brickwork in place of the dirt floors of the lair. They stood up and looked around.
The sight that met their eyes was incredible. There was a busy street leading off into multiple directions, and each side of the street was lined with shops that sold anything and everything. There was one for cauldrons and potion-making supplies, one for material components and ingredients, one that sold random junk from all over the world, and many, many more. Where there were no shops, there were roadside vendors shouting out their great deals on whatever their products were. As they turned around, they saw a sign above their heads that said "Diagon Alley."
"Well," said Versvechverthicha, hefting the bag of wealth over his shoulder, "I guess we could buy just about everything you need here."
"First," said Shal, "We have to go to Gringotts and exchange our money."
They made their way through the bustling streets, looking round every corner, until at last they came to Gringotts bank. I'm surprised we didn't see it sooner; it's so big, thought Shal. It was a monolithic structure, made from white limestone and pane-glass window. It had the feel of a government building, possibly where the legislature convened. It felt cold and uncaring, a feeling of cash and greed.
They entered in and saw, sitting at rows and rows of desks, were ugly-looking little people. Each one was wrinkly, had a long, pointed nose, huge ears, and was going bald at the top. The three approached one.
"Excuse me, sir," said Versvechverthicha, "We would like to exchange our money for wizard currency."
The weird-looking fellow, who was busy, writing notes on parchment with a quill-pen, looked up. "And of what kind, pray tell, are your monies?" he asked, in a gravely, scrooge-type voice.
Versvechverthicha lifted the bag, which was about half the size of the little man, off his shoulder and placed it gingerly on the desk. The ugly man opened the draw-string and examined its contents: it was full of hundreds of gold coins.
"How many are there?" asked the pointed one.
"About one thousand gold pieces, sir," Versvechverthicha replied.
The ugly little man picked up one, examined it closely, and bit it to test how real it was. "They may be old, but they, strangely enough, will pass as galleons. You needn't trade them in."
"Oh, well, okay. Thank you, sir." And with that, they left the bank.
The three of them purchased almost everything Shal needed for school with little difficulty (an exception being when they tried to buy a set of protective gloves, which happened to come almost exclusively in dragon skin). There was only one thing left on the list: Shal needed a wand. His mother asked around, and one kind woman suggested that they visit a place called Ollivander's.
The store had a big sign out front. "Ollivander's – Makers of fine wands since 382 B.C." Shal smiled at that, and wondered if it were true. They went in. Inside, the light was dim, with dust and candles on the tables. Off to the right, shelves extended off into the darkness, and on those shelves were hundreds upon hundreds of small boxes, each one long, thin, and very old. Calohexitharas rang the bell on the countertop to alert the manager to their prescence. Not one second afterwards, a strange old man popped up from behind one of the shelves. He was thin, and was of an indeterminate age. He had a wild, crazed look in his eyes, and white-grey hair stuck out of his head at odd angles. He smiled at the three visitors.
"Ah, customers!" the old man said in a cheery, salesman-like tone. "Thank you for coming. I am Mr. Ollivander. I presume you are here to purchase a wand for your son?"
Calohexitharas nodded. "We have never bought wands before," she said, "so we don't know where to begin. What would you recommend for our son?"
Mr. Ollivander looked at her strangely, as if he did not believe that she had never bought a wand, but he shook his head and looked to Shal. "Come here, young man."
Shal came forward, hesitant. "Put out your right hand," said Mr. Ollivander. Shal did so. The old man then pulled what appeared to be a small, thin piece of dark brown wood. It was perfectly straight, and smooth. That must be a wand, Shal thought. Mr. Ollivander placed the tip of his wand on the back of Shal's right hand, mumbled a few words to himself, and Shal's hand began to glow yellow. Suddenly, several of the boxes on the shelves began to glow a similar shade of yellow, some more brightly than others. Mr. Ollivander walked up and down the rows of shelves, collecting the boxes that glowed the brightest. He returned with three. He opened the lid of one of the little boxes, removed a piece of wood similar his own, and handed it to Shal, who gripped it firmly by the small handle on the back.
"Well, don't just look at it," Mr. Ollivander said. "Give it a wave."
Shal waved the wand awkwardly in front of himself a few times, in an effort to make something happen. Nothing did. The wand just sat there in his hand. Mr. Ollivander took the wand and handed him a second one. It was dark, polished black, and had a slight odor of ash about it.He grasped it firmly by the handle, and waved it once, hoping that something happened. The wand began to glow white, and what appeared to be a swift breeze began to blow around him. The wand, and the air around it, then fell still. Mr. Ollivander smiled.
"It appears that you have chosen wisely," he said. "I've made and sold every one of these wands. This one is special. It is made from a redwood tree, but not any ordinary tree. It was carved from an area in the tree that had been struck by lightning, and the electrical energies are still trapped within. Its core, made from the purest black diamond infused with raw magical energy, has further magnified its power. It will strengthen any spell cast with it."
Shal marveled at the fine piece of craftsmanship that he held in his hand. He turned to his parents, who nodded in approval. Calohexitharas turned to Mr. Ollivander.
"Would it be possible to purchase a case for that wand?" she asked. Mr. Ollivander nodded and motioned to a rack on the desk. On it lay several long, thin wand cases of various different styles (one of which was coated in dragonscales, which the three of them shuddered at). Of the selection, Shal chose one made of polished steel, with a strap to put around the waist or shoulder. Versvechverthicha paid Mr. Ollivander, and they left. The three of them headed to a dark alleyway. Calohexitharas pulled out the blue sheet of parchment. The three of them gripped it by one of the sides, and she recited the command word. The world swirled blue around them, and they were lifted into the light, only to be returned shortly after to the lair.
