Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all rights to it belong strictly to J.K Rowling.
I am simply having fun with my imagination.
"...Goodbye, Tom. I shall see you at Hogwarts."
And with that, the professor walked out of the room, closing the door on the now beaming Tom...
CHAPTER 3: KNOCKTURN ALLEY
Tom strolled down the street, too overwhelmed to speak. It was nothing like he'd ever imagined. The colourful street was absolutely littered with shops of the most peculiarity he'd ever witnessed. A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop, with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium. Several boys of about Tom's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. The other people in the street looked to be all wearing long robes that flowed as they walked. Tom beamed.
There were shops selling robes, shops selling silver instruments Tom had never seen before, shops selling bats and cauldrons, and shops selling—
"Wands," Tom told himself, smiling softly.
His eyes lingered for a moment over the sign on the shabby-looking shop, with the golden letters that read Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. Without hesitation, he let himself in and looked around. The shop was packed with bookcases upon bookcases that held long, thin boxes. There was not an inch of space in the shop that didn't have a box. The air was old and dusty. He coughed slightly, and called out in a demanding voice, "Hello!"
An old man emerged from the shadowy corridor and beamed at Tom. His robes were extremely shabby and his face lined with age. His hair was ruffled and gray, and his smile revealed uncared-for teeth.
"Hello, dear boy," he said, smiling at Tom, who did not smile back.
"I need to buy a wand," he simply told him, setting his money pouch on the table. "A good wand."
"Ahh, first year then, yes?"
Tom slowly nodded, eyeing the wizard carefully.
"Alright then," said the wizard, and he began to rummage around the shelves. "Let's see…. How about this one?"
He barely had time to remove the wand from its box when Tom said, in a very clear voice,
"Look again."
The wizard stopped in his tracks and eyed him carefully.
"Why, are you sure you don't want to at least try it?"
"Look again," Tom repeated, enunciating the words more this time.
The wizard nodded and returned to his shelf.
"Look in the back," Tom instructed him. "Go into your rare collections. I'm sure you have them."
The wizard turned round to stare at him and was silent for a long time.
"What is your name?"
"Why do you want my name?" asked Tom, narrowing his eyes at the wizard.
"My dear boy, the wand chooses the wizard."
"Does it?" said Tom, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course," said the wizard. "That has always been known to us who've studied wand law."
Tom looked around the shop and then his eyes landed on a box in the corner of one of the shelves.
"That one," he said, pointing at it.
The wizard eyed it carefully, then looked at Tom again, narrowing his eyes.
"Why don't you let me try to-"
"That one," Tom repeated, still pointing.
The wizard hesitated slightly, and then went to retrieve the box. He handed the wand to Tom and as soon as Tom touched it, a sort of tingling, vibrating sensation occurred. He smiled at the look on the wizard's face.
"That's yew wood," said the wizard. "13 ½", with a phoenix feather."
Tom ran his fingers smoothly down the wand, holding it as delicately as possible, then turned to the wizard.
"How much?"
After Ollivander's, Tom went ahead to Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and got fitted for Hogwarts robes. After that, he stopped by Flourish & Blotts and got all his school books.
"Hogwarts, yes?" said the wizard behind the counter.
Tom nodded.
The wizard rose his eyebrows as he eyed the coins that Tom gave him, and then gave him a small smile.
"My dear boy," he said, kindly. "You do not have nearly enough here to buy all of these books."
Tom stared at him.
"But," said the wizard, walking around the counter and leading Tom to the corner of the shop. "Here, we have all of our second-hand books...donated of course, by previous Hogwarts students. Why don't you look through them and see if you can find the ones you need?"
After Flourish & Blotts, Tom stopped by Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment and got all his scales and telescopes and cauldrons, second-hand, like the books. As he walked along the colourful streets, he eyed the passer-byers carefully. There were students about his age who hopped around their parents excitedly. All of the grown wizards had on robes and some even had pointed hats.
"Excuse me, boy," said a voice behind him. He turned around.
A plump, old little witch was smiling down at him and holding out an ice cream cone.
"One triple chocolate, yes?"
Tom looked at the shop behind her. It was called Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.
"This is what you ordered, yes?" repeated the witch, still smiling.
Tom took the cone and nodded once at her, then took a seat at one of the little tables outside the shop.
As he ate, he eyed the people walking along the street. He thought that, if he looked carefully, he could sense which of them knew what they were doing and which were completely lost. It was rather peculiar to see such a wide range of different wizards. Then, Tom noticed something else. Just in between Quality Quidditch Supplies and another shop called The Magical Menagerie, was a dark alleyway. Picking up all his bags, he made his way to the alley to explore. There was a sign that read Knockturn Alley, with an arrow pointing left. Tom followed it.
As he descended further into the alley, it got increasingly darker. The first shop that he spotted was called Dystyl Phaelanges. There appeared to be bones for sale as he pressed his nose against the window and squinted his eyes. The next shop was even more gruesome: The Coffin House. The sign at the very front said that this shop mainly sold Dark Arts materials used to raise the dead.
"Dark Arts," Tom whispered to himself.
The term was quite fascinating to him. He made a mental note that he would ask someone about it when he got to school.
The third shop on the left however, caught his attention right away...Borgin and Burkes. The shop door opened with the ring of a bell and an excited wizard came out, holding several black packages. He eyed Tom carefully, then held the door open for him. Tom entered the shop.
It was extremely dark as only a fit candles were lit in the back corner. A scrawny, hunch-backed wizard sat behind the counter, muttering to himself. Tom examined the shelves. There were shrunken heads for sale, as well as giant black spiders, human fingernails, skulls, leering masks, and cursed necklaces. Tom's eyes gleamed as he examined the objects. There were all sorts of magic, then. The Professor hadn't mentioned anything about Dark Arts.
"Can I help you, boy?" the scrawny wizard from the counter said.
Tom turned around to look at him. He knew he didn't have a single galleon left and could not make a purchase, but this shop fascinated him so much, that he would work hard to be able to come back.
"One day, perhaps," he said to the wizard, before turning around to leave.
Tom had to work real hard to hide his purchases from Mrs. Cole when he got back. But, once they were safe in his room, he opened up all his bags and examined the contents. He spent the next few weeks reading. A lot. He did nothing but read. Torturing Billy and the other kids was of no interest to him anymore. He read A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot from cover to cover. He skimmed through most of Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling but what interested him most of all was The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble. He read that too from cover to cover and even reread it a couple of times. It was such fascinating information, he could hardly wait to see what the class itself would be like.
From what he gathered in his readings, there were three types of wizards... those who were born into completely magical families, those who had partially magical families, and those who did not have any magical history at all. Tom automatically assumed that he fell under the partially magical category, as his mother couldn't possibly have been magical. Otherwise, she would not have died. Then again, there was so much he still didn't know about the wizarding world, so he spent the rest of the summer reading about it. After all, knowledge was power.
The First of September came very soon, and Tom was relieved to leave the orphanage behind and go ahead to King's Cross Station alone. Once there, he looked around curiously for Platform 9 3/4, then quickly spotted a few wizards running into a wall in between platforms 9 and 10, and assumed the position to do the same. He ran at the wall and crossed a barrier onto platform 9 3/4. Once there, he spotted the Hogwarts Express, which was a gleaming scarlet steam engine. Wizards everywhere were helping their children onto the train or putting their trunks on crates. Tom managed to do both by himself, and quickly found a train compartment all to himself.
He spent the first hour of the train journey staring out the window at the change of sceneries, when suddenly the compartment door slid open and a boy walked through.
"Hi," he said to Tom, smiling.
"Hello," said Tom, coolly.
"Is it okay if I sit down?" asked the boy.
"Are there no more seats?" Tom asked, without looking at him.
"Well," the boy hesitated. "I just thought we could...be friends."
"I don't need any friends," said Tom.
He then eyed the boy carefully. The boy had long dark hair and rather hungry eyes. He didn't look anything like Billy or any of the other little boys back at the orphanage. In fact, this boy looked very mysterious. He most certainly did not wish to be friends with him, but it couldn't hurt to get some information out of him, as Tom was still very new to this world.
"Fine then," he said, just as the boy turned to leave. "Sit."
The boy sat.
"What is your name?" Tom asked him.
"Avery," said the boy.
"I am Tom," said Tom.
"Know what house you'll be in yet?" Avery asked him.
Tom raised an eyebrow.
"House?"
"Yeah, there's four houses. You don't know?"
Tom watched the boy carefully.
"Hogwarts was founded by four wizards over a thousand years ago. They each have a house and the Sorting Ceremony at the start of your first year determines which house you'll be in."
"What are the houses?" asked Tom.
"Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin," said Avery.
"How are they different?" Tom asked.
"Hufflepuffs are supposed to be hard workers, Ravenclaws are smart, Gryffindors are brave, and Slytherins are clever."
"What if you are all four?" asked Tom.
"You could be, but normally the Sorting Hat puts you in the one that you show the most," said Avery.
"Where are you headed then?" said Tom.
"Slytherin, for sure," said Avery. "My whole family has been in Slytheirn."
"Your family are all wizards?" said Tom.
"Yeah, we're pureblood."
"Pureblood? What is pureblood?"
Avery frowned.
"You are a pureblood if you come from a wizard family. If one of your parents is a wizard and the other is a muggle, that makes you a half-blood. And then there are those few odd ones that are born into completely muggle families that have no trace of magical blood in them..."
"Mudbloods," said Tom, coolly.
"Yeah," said Avery, narrowing his eyes at him. "Say, where are you from?"
But before Tom could answer, the compartment door opened again and a lady with a food trolley offered them sweets.