Despite the Ministry's impatience when it came to the successful production of Witches and Wizards, they informed Edward and Amanda quite snippily that they were not testing the children until their first birthday, at which time they, the Ministry, would notify the parents with the appointment. When Edward argued that they had been instructed to inform the Ministry at the first sign of magic, the woman in charge had sniffed daintily, patted her yellowish hair, and said, " That is not my department. Perhaps those instructions were made before. This is now. Good day."
" Before what?" Amanda ventured to inquire.
" Before today? Before her? I don't know."
Now that they knew what Charlotte was capable of, and more importantly, now that Charlotte knew what she was capable of, they had to worry every minute that she might hurt herself or someone else. Lottie understood that when she wanted something badly, she could make things happen. She rarely ever made her original desire come true, but she was always satisfied with her own results. If she wanted a drink of water, she was just as happy to see her cot catch on fire. If she wanted a toy that was out of reach, it was just as amusing to send Patsy tripping into the bathtub.
When Amanda began to grow concerned that her daughter might indeed be some sort of heinous villain due to her lack of conscience when it came to tormenting those around her, Edward reassured her that it was perfectly normal for Wizarding children to be slightly out of control for the first few years. As they grew, and developed a usable vocabulary, the need for magical expression soon faded, and before school age they most likely had learned to control it completely, though it it was not yet refined.
After their first year in school, they would learn to use that power in more productive, concise ways.
" Generally speaking, of course." he added, as a few witches and wizards sprang to mind that even seven years of intense schooling could not polish. It had long been his secret wish that the Ministry would develop a wand safety test for graduate Wizards. They had Apparition licenses, why not a wand license? Just because a Wizard could shoot sparks did not mean he was necessarily qualified to perform dangerous spells.
Of course, a few broom regulations would no doubt cut the yearly fatalities in half as well. How many Witches and Wizards every year came of age, and couldn't wait to show off their skills, usually on powerful new brooms their doting parents bestowed on them for passing their N.E.W.T.'S? How many of those were later scraped up by Aurors or Ministry officials after they had done a daring blind plummet right into a tree, or had a nasty collision with buildings hidden behind concealment charms?
Alas, things would never change, and all they could hope for was that their own daughter became very level-headed and even-tempered--two characteristics that threatened to be only a distant promise.
Around the first of August, Charlotte caused the tea kettle to disappear and it was just fortunate that Patsy had yet to boil the water, or she would have been badly scalded.
The next day, Charlotte made a rain cloud over her bed, and while Amanda thought she was peacefully napping, Charlotte was actually playing in the cold water. If it hadn't been for the eventual seepage of water through the ceiling and into the dining room, Amanda might not have noticed until the entire ceiling caved in. As it was, Charlotte had played too long in her little shower--that night she developed a sniffle, and the next day a fever. And when she sneezed, it never failed that some sort of magic catastrophe followed.
Fortunately, the fever was short lived, but her sneezes persisted for a week.
After the fourth day, tired, frazzled, and with singed hair, Amanda owled Stella, and pleaded with her for help. She had promised Edward she would assist in the wand shop as soon as the children began coming in, but so far she had not felt right in leaving Lottie while she was so ill. And especially while Charlotte was so volatile. Stella was more than glad to whisk her granddaughter away, pointing out to Amanda that the child only had sniffles, not pneumonia.
" It's not the sniffles that worry me so much as the fires, the explosions, the tremors, and the summonings. I live in dread of her summoning a knife or an axe towards herself. And besides, I would still feel horrible, leaving her while her throat hurts." Amanda defended.
" Lottie...open up, I want to see if their is a dragon in your throat". Stella commanded. Lottie opened her mouth obediently, and Stella pretended to peer in very closely.
" Well...that might be a dragon tail..." she muttered. " No...I think he's gone. Say Rarrrrgh."
Charlotte complied.
" You must have scared him away. See...nothing to worry about." she told Amanda, who had to admit defeat. Dragons were more fun than colds and germs. She only shook her head and sighed as she de
Amanda's Journal-August 12 1992
Mother agreed to keep Charlotte today, so that I might help in the shop. It has been quite some time! We began the day in the village, but most Witches and Wizards go on to Diagon Alley with their children, as there are so many other supplies that the school requires. We Apparated there just after lunch, and I was impressed to find it has not grown too shabby or dusty in my absence. I had not realized I was missing it.
Only seven children came in today, but one of them was the most enthusiastic boy I have ever seen. He was with his mother and brother, who also seemed excited. A great relief, as so many Muggle parents are confused, or scared. Some are even angry and disbelieving. This boy called himself Colin, and he took a lot of pictures of everything with a large Muggle camera that looked too large for him to carry.
Such a love for life, it wouldn't surprise me if he didn't make Minister of Magic one day.
I do beleive that this journal is charmed somehow. No matter how much I write in it, I can never reach the end. There are always at at least twenty clean pages left at all times!
Amanda's Journal--August 13 1992
Charlotte has spoken a new word today. It is ' There." Isn't that a funny word for her to say? She says it with perfect clarity too, no baby talk whatsoever, and she has been repeating it adamantly since discovering it. There, there ,there. She even points. So far it is the only word in her vocabulary that is not a name, or title for someone. The poor girl, she must be overwhelmed by the people. She says already Mama, Father, Mella, ( for Stella) Leez,( for Eloise) and Grama. She refers to Amele as "Miss Mee" and to Giles as " Mister".
She quite charmed Edward today with her ' there, there, there" , so he suggested we bring her along to the shop. I thought she might annoy him after awhile, or be in the way, but he insisted, saying that it was never to young to show a child it's heritage. He was right of course. Lottie was as good as a galleon all day, playing behind the counter with some uncarved sticks and her animals. She seems miraculously cured of whatver affliction she suffered three days ago. I imagine Mother had a hand in that.
An interesting event was in progress today at Flourish and Blotts. One of the famous magical authors was there, signing books. I had walked down to Fortescue's to buy an ice for Charlotte, and got caught in the crowd, which seemed to consist mostly of women, none of whom were behaving rationally. I stood on tiptoe trying to see in, and was surprised to find Molly Weasely among the crowd. I would have called out to her, but she had a large group of children with her, including the boy, Harry Potter, who suddenly became the center of attention when the author, Gilderoy Lockhart. called him up to the front of the store.
The ice was melting by that time, but I still couldn't get through! What animals! And all for what? A glimpse at an author? I could see him by that time, quite easily, as he was surrounded by large portraits of himself. He was hardly worth trampling people to death for, but I did nearly start laughing at his flamboyant performance. His outfit was rather stunning, but I've never seen curls like that that did not involve some sort of rollers. He was signing books with what looked to be a peacock feather.
I was shuffled almost inside by this time, and I could see a photographer shove through, brushing aside the youngest Weasely boy in his haste. That commotion is what alerted Mr. Lockhart that Harry Potter was there, and it looked as though a plate of gold had been dumped in his lap when he noticed him.
" It can't be Harry Potter!" he exclaimed, purposefully to draw attention. The he practically attacked the child, pulling him up front and making quite of show of it. The crowd started clapping, and the boy looked ready to die of embarrassment. The photographer of course wasn't going to miss that opportunity, and for a minute we were all blinded by the flash. Especially when it reflected off of Mr. Lockhart's unbelievably white teeth. I think there is something utterly disturbing, and very un-natural about teeth that white.
He, Lockhart, then announced that he was going to give Harry a free copy of his autobiography, which I don't believe the boy really wanted--and then proceeded to announce that he was going to be the new Defense against the Dark Art's Teacher, at Hogwarts.
" He had no idea that he would shortly be getting much, much, more than my book, Magical Me, " he said. " He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me."
What a statement. I couldn't decided whether or not to laugh or shake my head. I was surrounded by sighs from several middle-age women, who began to push their way more adamantly into the shop. One woman elbowed me out of her way.
" Excuse me..." she said. " But I was here first. "
I decided that I could not afford to stand around anymore, mostly because Charlotte's ice was melting down my hand by that time, and also because I was afraid I might accidentally get pushed to the front where I would have to buy a copy of the book, and I am no reader of autobiographies. To me, they seem evidence of the highest level of supreme arrogance.
I might think differently were I the famous one, but as I am not, I squeezed my way out, despite the rude remarks I received.
Mrs. Weasley eventually made her way to the shop, bringing her youngest child, and only daughter, in for her wand. Molly was happy enough to show me her signed book,but she made Arthur stand outside. apparently he and another wizard had begun brawling in the book shop, and she was very angry. It must have been quite a sensation though with everyone else, so I am slightly sorry I did not stand around long enough to witness it.
Ginny, their daughter, was fitted very easily with an Alder wand, fourteen inches. I find myself becoming just as excited as Edward when the first set of sparks are emitted, proving that the wand has chosen it's rightful owner. Ginny seemed very surprised that it had worked at all, and in her excitement blurted out to me that she was more or less infatuated with Harry Potter. She did this out of her mother's hearing, or I'm sure Mrs. Weasley would have been distraught with worry over her only daughter. I wonder that Ginny might do better. She is after all a very attractive little girl, and shows the promise of having a fair amount of brains.
I should note here, that I have not had the opportunity yet to speak with Mr. Fenwicke, as I promised Edward. Since I do not know of what I am to speak, or how urgent it might be, I do not know how I will manage it even when we do meet. However, I hope to get the whole business with over soon...its becoming irritating to have everyone confide secrets to me at all times.
***
A few days after Lockhart's visit to Diagon Alley, Amanda met another peculiar person. Or rather, two peculiar persons. It was nearly time for the shop to close , and both Edward and Amanda were replacing wand boxes on the shelves, when a tall man with long, white hair entered the shop rather hastily, led by a very slight girl wearing a yellow kimono.
The girl was out of breath and asked, wide-eyed, whether or not they had come to late to buy a wand. Amanda was immediately taken with the girl's unblinking blue eyes, and unusual dress. She swayed back and forth, casually, twirling a lock of pale, flaxen hair. A necklace strung from corks decorated her neck, and her arms were covered from wrist to elbow with a mismatched variety of bangles and bracelets that jangled and clicked when she moved.
" Xenophilius Lovegood!" Edward declared. " Surely it hasn't been eleven years! It has? My, my. Where does the time fly? Of course it isn't too late--come right in, that's right. It's never to late to buy a wand."
He sent Amanda the faintest wink at that remark, and she flashed him a quick smile. It did not go un-noticed by the girl, who was looking at Amanda with what might have been considered a rude stare on a sullen child. On this girl, it was merely a dazzled, airy gaze.
" Hi." she offered.
" Hello." Amanda answered, handing the tape to Edward. He had charmed it to no longer pester her when there were customers. It was quite docile, most of the time.
" And your name is Luna." Edward commented. " Oh yes, I remember. I sold your parent's their wands. didn't I? Your father's wand--Willow, thirteen and a half inches, unicorn hair core. Yes. I recall it exactly. I said to him then that it could get quite agitated if he ever attempted anything dark. He hasn't I trust? Of course not. And your mother--ash, of course. Twelve and three quarters, with a phoenix feather. Very talented witch, she was. I was terribly sorry to hear what happened."
Xenophilius inclined his head in thanks, his soft white hair obscuring briefly his strange face with it's crossed-eye.
"It's my Luna's first year to school." he said, almost as though to himself. " I am sure she will be in Ravenclaw. Yes, quite sure."
Luna smiled up at him, the string from her necklace held between her lips. Edward answered in kind, and the two men began a conversation that suggested a somewhat comfortable familiarity. Edward took Luna's measurements, as she stood passively and listened attentively. At first Amanda could make very little of the conversation, flitting as it did about Hogwarts, and people she had never known. However the subject matter soon took a bizarre twist, and the man was extolling the ( somewhat questionable) virtues of gallows rope, and it's ability to dowse for spirits.
Amanda mentally slapped herself. Xenophilius Lovegood! He owned the Quibbler magazine! She felt very dull indeed for not having taken in his name when Edward first announced it, most likely for her benefit.
" The only difficulty is in obtaining a piece. No one is hanged anymore, and a person cannot trust Borgin and Burke's for these items, they are likely to sell you any piece of rope. Any dirty old piece.. Do you know how difficult all these dark wizards make it for honest adventurers like myself who desire only to promote the truth? Almost impossible, that is what. Walk into a shop and say you are purchasing a gallows's rope, and the clerk will write you down immediately as a suspicious character. "
Edward nodded, reading off the markings on the silver tape. He frowned slightly, before hurrying to the shelves.
Lovegood continued with his speech, and occasionally Luna supplied him with a piece of information he had neglected to mention. He patted her hair affectionately. Edward returned with a slender box.
" Now, let's see if this does the trick!" he said. There was a great difference in the way that Luna took the wand, compared to the Muggleborn children. She knew what it was for, and how to use it. She exuded a confidence, but unlike many other young Wizards and Witches from magical families, she seemed genuinely enthralled.
" A wave, if you please." Edward directed. She flicked it casually, but he had it back out of her hand before she had come to a stop.
" No."
" I thought not." She sighed. " It was phoenix feather, wasn't it?"
Edward looked startled.
" Well, yes. Maple...eleven inches. Very supple. How did you know that?"
She turned her large, dreamy eyes upwards, and smiled with a such gentle melancholy that it tugged Amanda's heart.
" I don't know, really. That is just what came to mind when I took it."
Edward continued to peer at her a moment longer, before turning to search for another box.
Luna turned to Amanda and began speaking as though they were old friends.
" I'm not particularly excited about going." she said. " I don't think the other children shall like me."
" Why ever not?" Amanda asked.
" They never do. They are always hiding my things, and teasing me." she said matter-of-factly.
Edward returned to hand her different wand. Amanda recognized it as the ebony wand that Harry Potter has tried the year before. As soon as it touched her hand, silver stars shot from the end and fell to the floor with the sound of bells. The wandmaker looked extremely smug, but before he could announce the wand, Luna spoke.
" Unicorn hair." she stated matter-of-factly.
" Unicorn hair.' Edward bent so that he was face to face with her. " Yes. Thirteen inches...quite whippy. Excellent I believe, for unlocking doors, transfiguring, and above all--rediscovering lost items."
" Thank you, " she whispered. Then turning once more to Amanda, while her father was digging through a deep patchwork satchel for his money bag, she said. " It's a beautiful wand. Do you think I might be meant to have unicorn hair, because my daddy does? "
" It's quite possible."
" Did your husband make your wand as well?"
It was Amanda's turn to be surprised. Most clients who visited merely thought of her as an employee. Because she was often seen doing things the Muggle way, Purebloods ignored her, and Muggle adults were so preoccupied with being bewildered that they took little notice, and the children were much to excited or bored to care. She felt a strange liking for this girl.
" Yes. He did."
Luna smiled.
" Oh, that's nice. " she looked around. " Does it make you nervous being in here with all these wands? It would me. Rather like a thousand glass tubes filled with danger."
Amanda looked around uncomfortably.
" Ah, well I never thought of it that way. A person has to be holding a wand for it to be dangerous."
" What about Brindilly? "
" Brindilly?" when the Luna spoke the word, the accent was on the last syllable, but when it came from Amanda's mouth, it was the " brin' that sounded strongest.
" They are very small creatures, that look like twigs. They have antennae, just here. " she held her fingers to her forehead to indicate the location. " If they start nesting near wands, and have nightmares, they can set the wands off. That is why you should never keep several unused wands lying about unless you take great precautions to lock them away. "
" How big would one be?"
" Babies are about the length of your finger to your first knuckle. Adult ones can grow to ten inches. They can lie in a box of wands and go completely unnoticed. "
" Are they dangerous in any other way?"
" I don't think so. They might bite. I've never seen one, but Daddy wrote an article about them last year. They come from Africa."
Xenophilius was ready to leave.
" Well, goodbye then. " Luna said. " And do be careful when rummaging. Rummaging gets on their nerves."
" I will. And you enjoy yourself at school." Amanda said.
Luna smiled brightly this time.
" I think I will. Now that I have this." she held up her new wand. " Thank you again."
And in a billow of yellow they were out the door.
-----------------
" Brindilly, do you mean?" Edward said, in reply to his wife's rather tentative question as to whether or not their were little twig-men that infested wand boxes." Yes--horrid little creatures. Much worse than garden gnomes, but not quite so malicious as doxies."
" Do they bite?"
" Occasionally, if they feel threatened. They are quite fascinating too. They were accidentally created in 1307 by an French Wizard dabbling in alchemy.
Solve et Coagula, he said, and that is what happened, though what two substances he joined, no one is certain. He was eaten by his experiment."
" Entirely?" she exclaimed.
" Well, yes. Brindilly were much larger in those days. I'm sure that no one has been eaten by one in over a century. They mostly eat wood., like termites. They have to have a strong magical substance nearby, or they their young won't hatch. Therefore, they gnaw down to the wand's core, and then lay their eggs in the cavity. When they hatch the wands generally explode."
" Ah, I see." she laughe a little.
' Why is that so amusing?"
" Well, the girl said that it was because the Brindilly have nightmares. That is why the wands explode."
" That is the myth. But then, there is no way to prove that they aren't having nightmares as they hatch."
They were in the library, sharing the sofa in front of the fireplace, which had a summer charm on it so that it produced light and crackling noise, but no heat. Instead a coolish breeze stirred the room, catching the loose ends of Amanda's hair and lazily swinging the gasolier overhead, so that the shadows on the wall rocked back and forth between elongated and diminutive.
" What did happen to her mother?"
" She was killed in an accident. Something to do with potions, but naturally everyone suspected Xenophilius of having a hand in it."
" You don't think so?"
" Of course not. He doted on the woman. And even more so on the child. He might have outlandish views about magic but he was no murderer."
" I'm glad to hear that. I rather liked him. And the girl, Luna...she was very sweet. "
She glanced up at the ceiling, to where she knew that Charlotte was sleeping away in her little forest room, and thought that she would like for her own daughter to possess those gentle charms when she was older. This reminded he of Charlotte's look of joy at receiving her flavored ice earlier that day, and that in turn led her to think about the author at the book store. As she thought, she leaned over and rested her had on his shoulder, breathing in the comfortable aroma of wood, starch, and the elusive fragrance of some sort of exotic spice.
" What do you think about Gilderoy Lockhart?"
His reply was a rather surprised laugh.
" Gilderoy Lockhart! I try not to think of him."
" Do you know him?"
" Oh, everyone knows him...he makes certain of it. But yes...I know him as in I sold him his first wand, and his second, and third. He is an absolute menace to wands."
" He was at the bookstore to day when I went for ice cream. He had Harry Potter with him. The picture will be in the Prophet tomorrow. "
" Yes...that would be a nice morsel of publicity, wouldn't it? Well, my advice is to avoid his books if you are seeking the truth. There is more truth to be found in a Quibbler."
" Well...he announced that he is to be teaching at Hogwart's."
She felt Edward tense under her head. But he was strangely silent. She thought for a moment he might begin one of his famous fits, guffawing and ridiculing the very idea. But when he spoke it was eerily calm.
" Don't be absurd."
" Truly. His curriculum is to include every book ever written by himself."
Edward shook his head.
" No. Impossible. They wouldn't let that man...oh, maybe they would! What is the wizarding world coming too, I wonder?"
" Do you think he is capable?"
" Of many things, I'm certain. However...with girls that young, those capabilities are highly illegal!"
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