1 I was simply amazed that such a world could've existed right under my nose. Witches and wizards did magic as if it were nothing, and there were numerous gadgets and gizmos that I'd never dreamt of. Diagon Alley was a great cluster of everything within the wizarding world. It was bright and busy. One store sold broomsticks that claimed to possess, "the fastest broomsticks in the world." One sold cauldrons and another strange horns and beetle eyes. I was overwhelmed by the sight.
"Off ter Gringott's firs', Axelle," Hagrid beckoned me towards an enormous marble building. I knew at once that it was a bank.
"Now, yer father, Shiloh Summers, was one o' the brightest students I'd ever heard o'. He worked as a Healer a' St. Mungo's. Though, now tha' yer school age, ya can gain access to the small fortune yer father left ya," Hagrid explained as we entered the building. A small man with pointed ears and an ugly face stood by the door and watched us suspiciously as we walked in.
Gringott's was crawling with busy little men carrying jewels and gold coins. Many normal-sized men were there as well, though I could tell they were simply customers. We joined a line behind a frizzy-haired witch in purple robes.
"Oh!" Hagrid reached into his multi-pocketed coat and retrieved an oddly shaped key which he proceeded to hand to me. "This is yer key ta get into yer account. It's number 265."
"Thanks!" I replied, gazing at the key that once belonged to my father.
"The Ministry o' Magic was keepin' it fer ya until ya went ta Hogwarts," Hagrid explained.
Finally, it was our turn.
"Miss Summers would like ter make a withdrawal," Hagrid told the ugly, little man.
"Key, please, Miss Summers," the man said, gazing down at me from over the top of his desk and reaching down with long, claw-like fingers.
Without a word, I handed over the key. After scrutinizing it for a moment or two, the man looked through a series of names before handing it back to me.
"Come with me," he said in his grubby, high-pitched voice.
We all climbed into a cart that suddenly jolted forward with blinding speed. Pure darkness surrounded us, though at one point, I could have sworn I saw a burst of flame in the distance. As suddenly as we had flown forward, we stopped. Hagrid grabbed the collar of my shirt to keep me from flying forward out the front of the car. We stepped out gingerly and headed towards the vault with a very large door.
"Key, please," said the little man.
I shakily handed over the strange key. Business like, the little man opened my vault, revealing a small mound of gold, silver, and bronze coins. As Hagrid explained how much each coin was worth, I piled a significant amount of coins– galleons, Hagrid called them– and left, ready to shop. Once we exited the dark bank, it was noon and the sunlight nearly blinded me.
"What exactly were those little men?" I knew they couldn't be human though I didn't want to ask Hagrid in front of them.
"Goblins. Bes' not ter mess with them, though they make the bes' sorta swords ya'll ever see," Hagrid explained.
"Also," I went on, "How do you know who my father was?"
"It was all over the paper," said Hagrid. "It was the firs' murder of the wizard supremacists."
I glanced down at my feet. A mixture of anger and fear welled within me. Part of me wanted to bring that group to justice for what they had done to my family while another part of me feared that I would be next. I knew that they were the individuals who viewed Half-breeds as sub-human, unworthy to live– an abomination as Hagrid had put it. I certainly didn't feel like an abomination, and I've never felt more human than I did right now.
"Well, ya migh' as well ge' yer wand, now tha' we're here," said Hagrid, breaking me out of my thoughts and gesturing towards a building labeled as Ollivander's. "His nephew recently took over the place, bu' it's still as good."
It was dimly lit inside and positively filled with shelves upon shelves of small rectangular boxes.
"Hello?" I called tentatively.
A tall young man of about twenty or so with a messy tuft of brown hair appeared from behind a shelf.
"Oh, hello." He smiled and laughed a nervous sort of laugh. "Here for your first wand?"
"Yeah," I said, grinning shyly.
"Alright, let's get your measurements first," Ollivander replied, producing a long measuring tape.
Hagrid faded into the back as the tape measured my arm length, leg length, waist circumference, and everything else on its own as Ollivander sifted through various boxes.
"Ah," he finally said, taking away the tape measure. "Try this. Oak, Unicorn tail, nine and a half inches, flexible."
I took the wand and gave it a slight wave. Several of Ollivander's papers flew off of his desk. Although I expected him to become angry, he simply smiled and took the wand.
"Let's try another." Ollivander grabbed another box. "Holly, dragon heartstring, 8 inches."
I held the wand carefully and waved once more. A stool in the far corner cracked and broke.
"Sorry," I said sheepishly.
"S'alright." Ollivander grabbed yet another wand.
Wand after wand seemed to reject me completely. I began to feel dejected– as if I weren't truly a witch at all– as if Hagrid had made a mistake in taking me– until Ollivander paused.
"I wonder... Hm... Maybe I've been going about this the wrong way." A small light twinkled in his eyes. "Here." From underneath his desk, he produced a light blue box.
"This isn't Ollivander-made. It's from France after Voldemort had murdered a wandmaker in that country. Some of her wands were salvaged and brought here," Ollivander explained, handing me a light, warm wand. "Willow, veela hair, seven and a half inches, good with Charms."
I waved it eagerly, and beautiful blue stars erupted from the tip, floating and enveloping the three of us.
"Perfect, though, veela hair can be unstable so be careful and don't use this out of rage." Ollivander packaged up the wand and waved good-bye.
"Alrigh', next is gettin' yer robes," Hagrid said, pointing towards a quaint little shop.
I bought plenty of robes as well as a winter cloak. They were certainly interesting, and I simply couldn't wait to start wearing them. Afterwards, we went to an apothecary and got a simple potions kit followed by a little cauldron. Flourish and Blotts was after that and turned out to be a fantastic bookstore filled with every sort of book imaginable. Hagrid let me wander around and shop for books in addition to my required textbooks.
As I looked through strange and new books, a taller girl with a freckled face and brown hair came to stand next to me.
"Don't you just love all of these books? My mum takes me here all the time," she said, smiling down at me.
I shrugged. "I don't usually read much, but these are really quite interesting."
"I'm Rose Weasley, by the way." Rose held out her hand.
I shook it. "Axelle Summers."
"That's pretty. Do you go to Hogwarts?"
"I'm starting this upcoming term, do you?" I slowly began to smile. I was making a friend.
"Same here! What house do you think you'll be sorted into? My mum and dad were in Gryffindor, but I secretly want to be in Ravenclaw– that's where all the smart people are," claimed Rose matter-of-factly.
"I don't know any of the houses," I told her. "I just found out I'm a witch yesterday." I giggled uncertainly.
"Oh! Are you Muggle-born? My mum was Muggle-born so I'd understand if you were." Rose peered at me with a set of green eyes.
"I'm not sure what a Muggle is..." I murmured feeling stupider by the second.
"Sorry, non-magic folk, you know." She looked sheepish– not at all arrogant. I decided I quite liked this girl.
"No," I replied. "My dad died when I was young and... I don't know where my mum is."
"Rose?" called a distant woman. "Time to be off!"
"Sorry about that. I'll see you on the train, then?" Rose waved sweetly as I nodded and waved back.
Swiftly, she walked off, leaving me with the thought that at least I'd know one person going to Hogwarts. Sifting through the books, I found one concerning a sport called Quidditch: A Beginner's Guide. I snatched it right away. It was apparent to me that Quidditch was a very popular sport among magical folk as every book in the sports section was about Quidditch. I loved sports, and this immediately gained my interest.
I finished up book shopping and paid for my massive load of textbooks. Carrying my books, Hagrid led me to a small restaurant on the corner to have lunch. I was positively famished.
"I'll pay fer it,"Hagrid offered kindly.
"Thanks, Hagrid! I appreciate it."
As we sat down with our sandwiches, I was prepared to interrogate the half-giant.
"So, was your mum a giant?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah, she left when I was around three, though." Hagrid took a large bite of his hamburger, clearly not in the mood to discuss this further.
"Sorry," I muttered, eating my sandwich.
"S'alright, though," Hagrid said once he swallowed his massive bite. "I've met me half-brother a few years back an' tha' was... nice. I'm sure ya'll ge' ta find yer mum soon."
"I sure hope so," I replied, taking a sip of water.
After a minute of silence, I asked Hagrid another question, "So, I was talking to this girl in Flourish and Blotts, and she was talking about these houses at Hogwarts."
"Yeah, there are four houses in Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw," Hagrid explained. "When ya ge' ta Hogwarts, the Sortin' Hat sorts ya ta yer proper house."
I glanced down at my half-eaten sandwich. "Huh," I replied. "I wonder what house I'll be in."
"I wouldn't worry abou' it too much," Hagrid reassured me. "They're all grea'. Great wizards an' witches came from every single one o' them houses. It's basically yer family while ya stay a' Hogwarts."
I blinked down at my sandwich, hoping I'd end up with Rose since I already knew her. Then, I smiled up at Hagrid feeling butterflies suddenly well up within me.
"I'm really excited to go to Hogwarts," I told him before taking another big bite of my sandwich.
"Ya'll really like it there," Hagrid said, beaming. "An' ya should probably get an owl before I forge'. We use 'em fer mail an' such– real useful birds."
An owl? I loved animals, and I'd never owned a pet before.
"Okay!"
A gorgeous barn owl peered at me between small, metal bars. It let out a small hoot as we left Diagon Alley with bags upon bags of magical supplies. As we headed slowly towards the orphanage, Hagrid gave me a wrinkled ticket.
"It's yer ticket fer Hogwarts. Don' lose it, alrigh'?"
I glanced down at the ticket, noticing the odd platform number.
"Nine and three quarters?" I looked curiously at Hagrid.
"Run straigh' a' the pillar between platforms nine an' ten. We can't have Muggles seein' the Hogwarts Express, now can we?"
I nodded in agreement. "Makes sense."