Chapter 2 Diagon ally
August 1st arrived swiftly, and the Warren family found themselves gathered in their trusty blue Skoda sedan, embarking on a lengthy journey towards London. As they set out, Eve leaned against the car window, her mind consumed by contemplation. The scenario seemed unfathomable; could she truly be a witch? Was it conceivable that magic actually existed?
As each hour pasted her nerves grew deeper a lump forming in her throat. This summer had not started how see envisioned in mere moments she would be arriving at the meeting location.
"We are here" a male voice broke her reverie. "I think we are anyway, all I see is a brick wall there is no buildings in sight" Mr Warren said prodding the GPS unit in mild frustration.
A heavy sigh escaped Eve's parched lips, the day's relentless nerves rendering her unable to eat or drink. She peered out into the desolate street, greeted only by a dreary, dirty grey brick wall and scattered piles of rubbish strewn carelessly across the pavement. The surroundings seemed far from inviting.
Amidst her father's frustrated cursing at the uncooperative GPS unit, Eve's gaze remained fixed on the wall, her curiosity piqued. A glimmer of something shiny briefly caught her attention in the afternoon sunlight. Squinting her eyes intently to discern more, she was astonished as, slowly but unmistakably, a building began to materialize from the very brick wall itself.
Shaking her head in disbelief, Eve attempted to dispel the surreal vision, but it stubbornly persisted. This was no illusion; before her very eyes, a building had inexplicably emerged from seemingly nowhere.
Before her stood a weathered, wooden-faced building, slightly askew, with patches of paint peeling from its timeworn surface. A sign swayed gently outside, bearing the name "The Leaky Cauldron," Eve murmured, her words barely audible in the moment.
"What was that?" Mr. Warren turned his gaze toward Eve, directing the question at her.
A small finger pressed against the glass as Eve exclaimed, her mouth agape, "I think that's the place, right there."
All three other warrens turned to look in the pointed direction, a blank grey brick wall was all they saw " sweetheart there is nothing there, we must have the wrong address" Mrs Warren said with a hint of concern in her voice.
Eve swung open the car door, stepping out with determined strides towards the old building with an outstretched hand she grasped the wooden doorknob an usual cold feeling washed over her entire body it was strange but welcoming at the same time, she turned back gesturing the others to follow.
Before their astonished eyes, a peculiar wooden structure seemingly materialized out of thin air, nestled within the brick wall. A stunned silence gripped the occupants of the car, rendering them momentarily speechless. One by one, they disembarked from the vehicle, their disbelief evident.
As they entered the aged building, an array of unfamiliar scents greeted their noses, leaving them unable to place their origins. The room was impressively spacious, extending upwards for two stories and featuring balconies that overlooked a central dining area. A handful of patrons occupied the room, seated sporadically and engrossed in their wooden mugs. Their attire consisted of peculiar, long robes, each adorned with a distinctive and vibrant hue.
"You must be the Warrens," greeted a cheerful woman with brown, braided hair and rosy cheeks as she approached them. "I'm Hannah, the barmaid here. Please, take a seat over there, and someone will be along shortly to answer all your questions," she kindly directed, gesturing towards a booth across the room. With a warm smile, she bid them farewell and returned to her post behind the bar.
After a brief wait, a man with a rich, dark complexion and dressed in deep purple robes approached the booth. He courteously bowed and introduced himself, "My name is Marcus Cinder. I serve as a representative of Hogwarts, here to extend a warm welcome to all Muggles venturing into the world of magic for the very first time. It can be quite overwhelming initially," he chuckled for a few moments, reminiscing about past encounters.
"What's a Muggle?" Eve blurted out.
Mr. Cinder extended a warm and inviting smile toward the young, purple-haired girl. "A Muggle is someone without an innate connection to magic, like your parents and brother," he explained kindly.
Mr. Cinder continued, "You see, Eve, in the magical world, there are people with the ability to perform spells and use magical powers. We call them witches and wizards. Muggles, on the other hand, are non-magical folks who don't possess these abilities."
Eve's eyes widened with curiosity as she absorbed this newfound knowledge. She had countless questions racing through her mind, eager to explore the enchanting world that lay before her.
With a sense of wonder, Eve leaned in closer, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "So, if I'm not a Muggle, does that mean I have magic too?"
Mr. Cinder nodded with a reassuring smile. "Indeed, Eve. It appears you possess magical abilities, which is why we've extended this invitation to you and your family. You're about to embark on a remarkable journey into our world, a world filled with spells, enchantments, and endless possibilities."
Eve's excitement grew, and she couldn't wait to learn more about her newfound powers and the magical world that awaited her.
Clearing his throat with a deep cough, Mr. Warren interjected, "Where is this school located, and will it be a lengthy daily commute for Eve?" He fixed a steady gaze on the purple-clad wizard, his eyebrows raised inquisitively.
Anticipating the time-consuming nature of this line of questioning, Marcus deftly withdrew a sturdy wooden wand concealed within his sleeve. He skilfully aimed it on a chair located across the room and with a subtle flick of his wrist, effortlessly guided the chair as it glided smoothly across the floor, ultimately positioning it in front of Mr. Cinder.
Seated confidently upon the chair, Marcus spoke with unwavering conviction. "Mr. Warren, there's no need for concern regarding travel expenses. Hogwarts operates as a year-round boarding school, with the exception of holidays when all students have the option to either return home or stay within the castle during festive periods."
Eve's eyes ignited with a sparkle, conjuring images of fairy tale castles that filled her imagination. She hugged herself tightly, sinking back into the booth, acutely aware that her life was on the brink of a profound transformation. She found herself torn between feelings of excitement and trepidation, uncertain about whether to embrace this change with joy or be consumed by fear.
Amidst a flurry of enthusiastic nods, questions, and gasps from the group, Mr. Cinder slapped the chair's brim decisively. "Alright, shall we make our way to Diagon Alley to gather all your school supplies?" He nodded resolutely to himself, briefly glancing in Eve's direction.
Pushing herself away from the plush booth with all the determination she could muster, Eve was poised and eager for her magical journey to commence.
"This isn't our usual protocol, but regrettably, I'll need two of you to remain behind," Mr. Cinder explained. "You see, Diagon Alley can be exceptionally crowded during this season, and we need to ensure everyone's safety." three muggles is quite the job. So, decide amongst yourselves who will be escorting Eve"
Mrs Warren reached for eves excitable hand, they followed Mr cinders out into a small courtyard surrounded by a red brick wall, thinking to herself it's a dead end but after the fantastical experiences she had already encountered, she was beginning anything was possible.
The sturdy wooden wand tapped out an intricate pattern against the bricks, and a grinding noise followed as the bricks gradually parted, forming an archway. The breathtaking scene that greeted Mr. Warren and Eve left them utterly speechless. Before their eyes, a world of vivid colors unfolded, with a bustling street that seemed to defy imagination. The road twisted and curved, lined with enchanting wooden shop fronts adorned with expansive glass windows. These windows displayed an array of wares that appeared utterly alien to the newcomers.
Eve's eyes darted in every direction, trying to absorb the overwhelming sensory barrage. The amalgamation of scents, sounds, and sights left her feeling inundated. She finally fixed her gaze on a crooked yet regal marble building at the far end of the street. Mr. Cinder followed her line of sight.
"That," he said, "is Gringotts bank. Every wizard and witch relies on it for their gold. It's run by goblins—very curious creatures indeed."
With an energetic stride he led the two ladies forward down the bustling street. "We should make our way to the bank first" he suggested "to set up an account so you can exchange your pounds to galleons"
As they neared the bank, a diminutive creature with sharp, pointed features, gnarled hair, and lengthy fingernails graciously held the ruby-colored door ajar. Mr. Cinder offered a warm smile in appreciation before leading them inside the bank.
A central aisle adorned with elegant black, white, and gold marble was flanked by towering work desks. Seated upon these desks were more of these goblin creatures, engrossed in their tasks of counting and weighing golden coins.
The wizard, the witch, and the muggle approached one of the desks. Mr. Cinder cleared his throat, intending to capture the goblin's attention. Gradually, the goblin's head rose to meet theirs, its beady black eyes fixed upon them. In a low, raspy voice, it inquired, "How may I assist you today?"
"I am here on behalf of Hogwarts' Muggle-born Aid Program," Mr. Cinder explained. "We have a young witch ready to open her first account." The goblin slowly curled its long fingers around the edge of the desk, peering down at the small, purple-haired child. "I see," it responded, its voice cold and devoid of emotion.
"That will not be necessary, Miss Sinclaire already has an account with us" the goblin declared, its gaze firmly fixed on the older woman. Mrs. Warren sputtered, her mouth agape, incapable of forming words. Mr. Cinder wore a quizzical expression. "You must be mistaken," Marcus asserted, "this lady here is Mrs. Warren, a Muggle."
The goblin shook its long-pointed head. "A goblin is never mistaken, sir. The lady before us, born Jodie Sophia Sinclaire, possesses an account inherited from her father, Robert Sinclaire." Three sets of eyes now focused intently on Jodie. She stood motionless, her mind racing back to a time when she had last seen her father at the tender age of six, before he mysteriously disappeared. All that remained of him were a few postcards locked away in a metal box in the attic.
Clutching her chest, she leaned against the nearest marble pillar, her head spinning as ten thousand thoughts waged a war inside her brain. "My father had an account in a goblin bank," she murmured, the words slipping from her lips in a hushed whisper. "That means he must be a wizard."
"I need to sit down," Jodie Warren gasped, her cheeks flushed and sweat forming on her brow. As if conjured by magic, a plush red velvet armchair appeared at her feet, gently guiding her into its comforting embrace. She lowered her head into her trembling hands, tears streaming down her face as memories of her father flooded her mind. It had been many years since she had thought of him, and all the emotions came rushing back at once, too overwhelming for her to bear.
Eve held her mother's hand firmly, offering a reassuring smile as she climbed onto her lap, wrapping her small arms around Jodie's waist. Jodie gently kissed the top of her daughter's head, wiping away the lingering tears on her cardigan. She bounced Eve on her knee, eliciting a giggle from the little girl.
"So, my father had an account here, which is now mine," Jodie inquired. "Could you please tell me the current balance in this account?" she spoke with a sniffle
The goblin flipped through a few pages in a large black leather book adorned with intricate gold leaf along the edges. In that low, raspy voice, it revealed, "653,220 galleons, which translates to 3.2 million in your muggle currency." The revelation left everyone in the room utterly flabbergasted, with jaws dropping to the floor.
"As you are a Muggle, your daughter will be added as a trustee to this account, granting her access to the funds. We can also implement a limit to prevent excessive withdrawals," the goblin explained.
"Yes, that sounds prudent. With 1000 galleons a year, you won't lack for anything," Jodie said, smiling warmly at her daughter. She then turned to Mr. Cinder for his approval, and he gave a confirming nod.
"Very well, would madam like to make a withdrawal today?" the goblin inquired, its tone sharp and businesslike.
Exiting the bank with pockets brimming with golden coins, they were guided to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The shop's exterior boasted red-painted wood, and two large glass windows showcased perfectly tailored robes on mannequins. A gleaming metal needle and thread floated independently, deftly working its way around the robes, adjusting their fit with precision.
Upon entering, they were met with a bustling scene. Children and parents filled the space, with needles and thread darting in every direction. To some, it might have appeared chaotic, but for Eve, it was nothing short of awe-inspiring. Her eyes sparkled with joy as she took in the magical commotion around her.
"Get on that platform, I'll be with you in a moment," a brisk, hurried voice directed toward Eve. Madam Malkin, a robust woman sporting a pointed hat and small glasses perched on her nose, had fabric draped over her shoulder. She darted back and forth, tending to various customers, clearly caught in the midst of the busy season.
With cautious steps, Eve obeyed the instruction, gingerly placing one foot on the platform. To her delight, a mirror ascended from the floor, reflecting her ear-to-ear grin as the overwhelming joy washed over her. Mr. Cinder ushered her mother to a vacant seat and spoke reassuringly, "I'll be back shortly. It's a bit crowded in here, but you're in good hands with Ms. Malkin. She's the best in her trade." He smiled and exited the bustling store, strolling across the street towards a store called "Magical menagerie".
Eve watched as Madam Malkin darted frantically around the room in the mirror's reflection while she patiently waited her turn. Her wide eyes scanned the room, absorbing all the wondrous robes on display. A breathless voice suddenly spoke from behind her, "First year, dear?" Eve nodded, her voice refusing to cooperate in the excitement of the moment. Madam Malkin was accompanied by a floating tape measure that swiftly began its meticulous work, wrapping itself around each appendage. It tickled her slightly, and she couldn't help but let out a giggle, earning a warm smile from her mother.
As she gazed at her daughter with affectionate eyes, she couldn't help but acknowledge that this day had been long anticipated. It was the moment when her youngest child would be getting fitted for her secondary school uniform. Unshed tears welled up in her eyes, a warm smile graced her face as she marvelled at her daughter's resilient and optimistic demeanour.
As her daughter was being attended to, her thoughts drifted back to the conversation at Gringotts bank. She found herself grappling with the revelation that her father had been a wizard. How had she not known this all along, and what had transpired when she was just six years old?
After her father's disappearance, she moved in with dad's parents. It was a sensitive topic that nobody dared to broach. Over the course of a few months, it became a silent, unspoken matter, and life continued its course. Her recollections of her father gradually grew distant and faded with time.
Her train of thought brought her onto her mother, a woman she had never had the chance to meet in person. Her only connection to her was through photographs and the stories shared by others. Her mother had tragically passed away during childbirth, leaving her to be raised by her father and grandparents.
A sharp yelp jolted her back to the present, and her vision quickly refocused. She saw her daughter rubbing her left arm, her lower lip clenched tightly as she struggled to hold back tears.
Madam Malkin, a mix of frustration and understanding in her tone, remarked, "I did warn you, dear, that if you kept fidgeting, the needle might nick you." She cast a wry but cautious glance at Mrs. Warren, who couldn't help but chuckle and shake her head.
Eve stood with absolute stillness, determined to avoid another painful encounter with the sharp needle. Draped in a robe that was significantly oversized for her, she couldn't help but feel somewhat comical. The thread and needle raced with astonishing speed, skilfully darting in and out of the fabric, gradually shaping the robes into a more suitable fit.
Once the robes and the uniform beneath had been meticulously tailored to magical perfection, Eve couldn't contain her excitement. She twirled around and around, joyfully leaping up and down. However, her exuberance got the best of her, and she leaped off the platform, stumbling as she landed and tumbling into a heap on the floor.
Her vibrant purple hair cascaded loosely over her face, momentarily obscuring her vision. A hot puff of air from her mouth gently pushed the hair away from her eyes, and she lifted her gaze from the floor to meet her mother's eyes, a bright grin playing on her lips.
"I believe we should grab a few extra sets of robes and uniforms," Mrs. Warren suggested, nodding toward the purple heap on the floor. "This one," she continued, unable to suppress a smile, "can be quite the klutz." Madam Malkin shook her head in agreement.
With everything settled and paid for, the two Warrens exited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions and stepped back onto the bustling street. "Can you believe all of that fit into this tiny box? I'm already in love with magic!" Eve exclaimed, holding up a small, light-coloured wooden box as if she had just won an Oscar.
As she gazed into her daughter's eyes, she was captivated by the pure happiness that sparkled within them and the radiant joy that Eve exuded. A tear welled up in her own eyes as she realized that this was the happiest, she had ever seen Eve, even surpassing the joy of the brand-new Barbie push bike she received when she was seven. Eve had ridden that bike all summer long, from dusk till dawn. This moment with Eve would forever be etched as a cherished core memory of her daughter, a moment she would treasure forever.
As they made their way through the bustling street towards Magical Menagerie, their attention was abruptly seized by a substantial gathering of people. Whispers rippled through the crowd, with phrases like "It's the Potters" and "Is that really him, Harry Potter?" circulating among the onlookers.
In an attempt to get a better view, Eve stood on her tiptoes while clutching her mother's hand for stability. The bustling crowd made it challenging to discern the subject of everyone's conversation. However, she managed to catch a glimpse of a black-haired man wearing round glasses. He appeared to be leading what seemed like his family – a woman and three children – into a shop with a wooden wand sign hanging outside. Above the doorframe, golden lettering read "Ollivanders."
Eve gently tugged at her mother's hand, her eyes brimming with curiosity. Mrs. Warren looked down at her energetic, purple-haired daughter, anticipating the question she could sense coming.
"Mum, did you see what happened? I couldn't get a good look," Eve inquired.
"I'm not sure, dear. It seemed like a celebrity to me," Mrs. Warren replied. "We should ask Mr. Cinders about Harry Potter; he might be able to tell us more. Come on, he said he was heading into this store."
Taking Eve away from the bustling crowd, they pushed open the deep purple door. A symphony of animals greeted them: owls of every imaginable colour, cats of various shapes and sizes lounging in peculiar positions on every level of the store, and the melodious chorus of ribbiting toads. Small rodents scurried through interconnected plastic tubes hanging from the ceiling.
"Ah, there you are," Mr. Cinders greeted, gesturing towards Eve and Jodie. "This is the young witch I was just telling you about, Barnabus." Barnabus, a portly man with large, thick glasses, a wiry white mustache, and thinning hair on his head, turned his attention to Eve. He leaned in closer than she would have preferred, and while she couldn't quite identify the scent, it was far from pleasant. Her nose twitched slightly as she discreetly shifted onto the balls of her feet to create a bit more distance, all without appearing impolite.
"Purple hair!" Barnabus exclaimed with wide-eyed surprise. "Are you a Metamorphmagus child?" Eve shot a puzzled glance at Mr. Cinders, who chuckled and placed his hand on the small man's shoulder.
"That's hair dye, my old friend," Mr. Cinders explained. "It's a Muggle invention to temporarily or permanently change one's hair colour." They both shared a hearty laugh until the small man began to wheeze.
"I always forget about those Muggles and their wild inventions, forgive me, little miss," Barnabus said apologetically. He then turned to Mr. Cinders and inquired, "So, are you sure Hogwarts doesn't need fifty more owls? I'd throw a discount your way."
Mr. Cinders shook his head and let out a sigh. "Not today, my friend, but I am looking to purchase a gift for Miss Eve." He knelt down on one knee to be at eye level with Eve. "This is something I like to do for all the Muggle-born witches and wizards. You can pick anything you want; it's on me."
Before anyone could say "owl," a squealing Eve darted across the store, causing a huge commotion. Owls began hooting and flapping their wings, almost taking flight if not for the chains that tethered them to their perches.
"This one, this one!" Eve exclaimed; her finger pointed at a white, fluffy cat with sky-blue eyes. The cat purred contentedly as Eve gently stroked its ears.
"We'll take that one," Mr. Cinders said, confirming their choice. He placed a small pouch on the desk, and it landed with a soft thud.
"I'm going to name you Fluffy," she declared, gently lifting the cat from under its front legs. She cradled it close to her chest, just like a baby, and the cat's purrs deepened in contentment. "We have a few more stops to make until we have everything you need, but first, a wand!" Mr. Cinders raised one finger to the sky in an attempt to be dramatic. Mrs. Warren quickly brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh.
The trio exited the store, relieved to be free of the lingering smell. They took in deep breaths of fresh air as they made their way through the bustling street, heading up a gentle incline towards the shop Eve had spotted earlier.
Approaching the faded green shopfront of Ollivanders, just a few steps away from the door, it suddenly swung open. A rugged-looking man in his late thirties stood in the threshold, the same man Eve had caught a glimpse of previously. His black hair was short on the sides with a messy length on top, and circular glasses perched upon his nose. His startled expression was quite evident.
"After you," Harry spoke in a monotone voice, gesturing with his hand to invite them to walk past him. It was an awkward exchange as the trio shuffled into the store.
Inside the shop, three children and a woman with long reddish hair gathered around a counter. An elderly man, who looked quite aged, carefully placed a wand into a deep red velvet box crafted from dark wood. The group in front of them bid farewell to the shopkeeper with warm smiles and began moving toward the exit. As they approached the door, they noticed the three newcomers now inside the shop, each giving a polite nod of acknowledgment.
Eve noticed that the children appeared to be roughly the same age as her. She had a strong feeling that the boy holding the dark wooden box was receiving his first wand today. With a warm and inviting grin, she displayed her teeth in a slightly quirky but endearing way, or so she thought. The boy chuckled and turned his head to look at her, momentarily tripping over his untied shoelace. He stumbled forward but managed to regain his balance, a hot flush spreading across his cheeks. Turning away shyly, he swiftly followed his family toward the exit, daring to steal one more glance at the young lady with purple hair before disappearing from view.
"Who was that?" Mrs. Warren asked, tilting her head in a questioning manner. Mr. Cinders gulped and replied, "That was... That was Harry Potter." He gulped again. "And who is Harry Potter?" Mrs. Warren tapped her foot impatiently as she inquired.
"That's a long story for another time," Mr. Cinders said wearily, redirecting his attention back to the shopkeeper.
Mr. Ollivander stood tall, his piercing eyes reminiscent of an owl, radiating wisdom. His face bore the intricate tales of countless years, etched in wrinkles that told stories of their own. Beneath his intense gaze, his bushy eyebrows framed a visage of deep knowledge. His shoulder-length hair cascaded in graceful waves, a testament to the passing of time.
With a soft, pleasing voice, he spoke, "Welcome to Ollivanders, young Evelyn. I've been expecting you." Eve stood there, frozen, her heart slowing down. This man seemed to already know her, leaving her to wonder if this was some form of magic at play.
"Don't be shy now, step forward and let me get a better look at you," he encouraged. Robotically, Eve shuffled forward into the sunlight streaming through a second-story skylight.
Without uttering a single word, Mr. Ollivander began to mumble to himself, spinning on the spot and scanning the numerous dusty boxes that lined the walls. He pointed to one, pondered for a moment, then shook his head. Placing his fingers under his chin, he leaned slightly into them, deep in thought. Suddenly, he exclaimed, "AHAH!" The sudden outburst startled everyone in the room.
With a jovial step, he disappeared into an unseen room and reemerged with a light, elegant box in hand. Upon opening it, a long wand, almost white in appearance, lay atop a bed of black satin as dark as the night sky. Placing the wand on the counter, he took a few steps back and nodded at Eve, inviting her to pick it up.
At first, she hesitated, but with another encouraging nod from the old man, she extended her hand. As her fingers wrapped around the wooden wand, she felt its strong pull, almost as if it had a magnetic force of its own. The wand felt weighty in her hand, and as her fingers grasped it, her hair seemed to stand on end. A surge of power coursed through her, sending tingling shocks throughout her body. Taking a step backward, an eerie sensation washed over her. The once-familiar wand shop in front of her eyes transformed into nothing but deep, unending blackness.
She spun around on the spot, and everything had vanished — her mother, Mr. Cinders, the shop, the alley — all swallowed by an abyss of absolute blackness. The only object that remained was the wand she held aloft in her hand.
When she tried to take a step forward, an invisible force abruptly stopped her in her tracks. It was an unsettling coldness, and it sent shivers cascading down Eve's spine. Worry began to gnaw at her, as she pondered where she was, what had become of her mother, and whether this was a typical experience for everyone who first picked up a wand.
Time seemed to blur in this strange state, and Eve couldn't discern whether it had been minutes, hours, or even days. Time had slipped away from her. Overwhelmed by the situation, she began to sob, the emotional weight bearing down on her.
Suddenly, a presence made itself felt. First in front of her, then at her side, and then all around in the empty blackness. An all-encompassing dread overtook Eve, and she felt genuine fear coursing through her for the first time in her life.
Clutching her arms tightly around her midsection in a desperate attempt to find some semblance of protection, Eve found little solace. A low, feminine voice began to trickle out of the surrounding darkness, saying, "I knew one day you would come, child. I've been waiting for you."
Eve's hands instinctively shot up to cover her ears, but the voice seemed to penetrate her mind regardless. She let out a soft whimper, her knees giving way under the weight of her fear, forcing her to collapse onto the ground.
"Don't be afraid, child. I won't harm you. You are very special to me," the cold voice echoed from all directions within the inky blackness. "I've been waiting so long for you," it repeated, now seemingly just ten feet in front of her.
Suddenly, as if materializing out of nowhere, a necrotic hand reached out from the darkness. The blackened flesh hung barely attached to the bone, inching closer and closer, mere inches from her face. Once more, the voice spoke, "Oh, how long I have waited, my child. I will finally be free. All you have to do is hand me that wand." Bony fingers began to slowly caress Eve's damp cheek.
Eve let out a blood-curdling scream, paralyzed with fear. She couldn't move, couldn't breathe. The magical aura emanating from this woman was one of pure malevolence, seeping into her very core and transforming her, making her feel unlike herself.
"All you have to do is give me the wand willingly; that is all I ask of you, child," the low, female voice repeated once more. Now, it seemed to be directly on top of her, yet she couldn't see anything of her captor except for the hand.
Suddenly, she sensed a second presence, distinctly different from the woman's. Moments later, a powerful male voice bellowed from within the blackness, echoing all around her, "GET OUT!" An indescribable weight slammed into Eve's chest, feeling as though she'd been struck by a massive force, leaving her breathless. She tumbled backward towards the darkness, a sensation of falling jolting her back to reality. The first thing she saw were beams of light hitting her eyes as she took in her surroundings—she was back in the wand shop.
"Well, how do you feel?" an aged voice inquired. Eve was disoriented, her hearing muffled. What had felt like days inside the darkness had been mere seconds in the real world. No one around her had any inkling of the trauma she had endured. Eve collapsed to her knees and wept, curling into a ball on the floor.
Beside herself, Mrs. Warren rushed to her fallen child, gently running her fingers through Eve's hair and murmuring soft, soothing words. "It's okay, it's okay. Tell me what's wrong," her mother whispered gently as she cradled her distraught daughter.
Eve looked up at her mom, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. She felt ice-cold to the touch. When she tried to speak, her words were stuck like a knot in her throat, and no sound came out.
A few minutes passed in tense silence. No one dared to say anything as Mr. Cinders and Mr. Ollivander stood awkwardly, waiting for the child to find her voice. Sniffling and stuttering, Eve began to recount the events that had transpired in the void, eliciting gasps of astonishment from those in the room. Horror and sadness were etched on every face.
Mr. Ollivander swiftly reached for the white wand that had clattered to the floor. He brought it close to his ear, listening intently for any faint whispers of dark magic. A puzzled expression crossed his face, his bushy eyebrows raising slightly. There was nothing—no hint of dark magic. He paced back and forth, deep in thought, pondering what could have caused this horrific and lifelike vision.
"I'm afraid I cannot confirm how this happened," Mr. Ollivander admitted, his voice tinged with concern. "I have heard tales of children receiving their first wands and experiencing minor visions of the core creature inside their wand. However, nothing like this has been documented; it's utterly unheard of. I will consult with an old friend to get to the bottom of this mystery."
Mr. Ollivander extended the wand in his outstretched hand toward Eve, who hesitated to touch it again. "I know how you must be feeling, but I need to see something for my investigation," he explained. Reluctantly, Eve accepted the wand back into her hand. It felt warm and comforting, like an extension of herself. She smiled, letting everyone in the room know that she was okay, which was met with a collective sigh of relief.
"Just as I thought," Mr. Ollivander spoke. "The first time a child comes into contact with a strong source of magic, such as a wand, it can have varied effects, but only the first time. I am confident the visions will not persist." He took the wand back from Eve and carefully placed it back into the lightly coloured box.
Pointing towards the box now tucked under Eve's arm "This one is free of charge you have given me much to think on" he scratched his chin "Must to think on indeed."
Leaving the store hand in hand with her mother, who was gripping her hand a bit too tightly for Eve's liking, they began to tick off the remaining items on their list one by one. As they carefully fit everything into a delicate, silver, silky pouch with an extension charm, Eve started to feel more like herself. They then made their way back toward the Leaky Cauldron.
Before entering the Leaky Cauldron, they stood in the small courtyard, surrounded by red brick. Mr. Cinders handed Eve a small golden ticket, and she turned it in her hand. As she did, letters and numbers fizzled onto the ticket, forming beautiful cursive black lettering.
Hogwarts
Platform 9 ¾
September 1st 2017
11:00am
Kings cross station
Eve's eyes lifted from the ticket, fixing on the dark-skinned man before her. He spoke with a serious tone, "That is your train ticket, your way to Hogwarts. You do not want to miss it. Two students missed it one year, and let's just say it nearly ended badly for them." Startled, Eve quickly pocketed the ticket, placing it inside her silver pouch.
"This is where I leave you, Mrs. Warren and little Miss Warren," he said, bending down to playfully tousle her hair. "It has been a pleasure and a privilege to welcome you into the world of magic. If you are ever in Hogsmeade village, be sure to come find me." He nodded once more before turning and exiting back from where they had come.
Upon entering the Leaky Cauldron, they discovered Mr. Warren passed out, completely inebriated, and a soundly asleep Sebastian. The barmaid, Hannah, shook her head in amusement as she spotted the two women. "That one can't handle his Dragon Ale," she said, pointing to Mr. Warren. "Just one, and he was out like a light." She finished her sentence with a soft chuckle, cleaning a glass mug with a wet cloth, causing tiny squeaks to be heard as it was polished.
Mrs. Warren tutted and shook her head. "I think we will have to take a room, please," she told Hannah, the barmaid, who smiled and led them upstairs while floating one drunk and one sleeping man alongside them.
Once upstairs, Hannah showed the family to two rooms—one with a queen-size bed and another with two twins. The men were gently laid down in their respective rooms. Standing in the doorways, opposite each other across the hall, the two women exchanged a knowing look filled with admiration and love. They mouthed to each other, "I love you," at the same time, eliciting smiles from both of them.
"Get some rest; you've had a very long day, and we have a few hours of driving in the morning, sweetie," Mrs. Warren whispered to Eve, who nodded sleepily. Slowly closing her door with a slight creak, Eve climbed into her twin-size bed, readjusted her pillow so the cool side faced upwards, and closed her eyes, desperately in need of some much-coveted sleep.
Blackness surrounded her, engulfing every fiber of her body. In this void, a spectral hand reached out before her eyes, and a chilling voice whispered, "I've been waiting for you, child."
Eve awoke with a scream, her body drenched in sweat. The mattress beneath her was damp, and she shuddered, drawing her knees to her chest. The door flung open, casting a flood of hallway light into the room. Her mother rushed in heroically, her concern for her child overpowering any sense of fear for herself. She quickly assessed the situation, seeing that everything was as it should be. Her demeanour lightened a little as she approached her child, soothing her with soft hushing noises.
She wrapped Eve in a tight embrace, and they rocked back and forth for a while. Meanwhile, Sebastian had woken during this ordeal and moved to the next bed to comfort his sister, creating a loving and supportive cocoon for Eve to find solace within.
The early hours of the morning sneaked up on them while they sat down to breakfast. After expressing their gratitude to Hannah for her hospitality, they piled into the blue Skoda to begin their journey home. The drive was a long one, filled with never-ending conversations about Eve's adventures in Diagon Alley and the tumultuous experience she had faced.
In the backseat, Sebastian held Eve's hand tightly as she recounted the traumatic events within the void. As she spoke, a heavy silence settled over Eve, and she became rather quiet for the remainder of the journey.
Arriving home just as the sun hung high in the sky, Eve took her newfound belongings into her room to unpack and marvel at everything she had acquired. In just one month's time, she would embark on her magical journey to Hogwarts, and her future would be filled with endless magic and wonder, a prospect she could hardly fathom.
She fell onto her bed and gazed up at the ceiling adorned with glow-in-the-dark stars, a contented smile gracing her face. "I'm a witch," she declared proudly to herself, savoring the excitement and anticipation that lay ahead.