Disclaimer: I do not own Moriarty the Patriot/Yuukoku no Moriarty or Harry Potter.
Songs/Instrumentals Accompanying This Chapter: Fairytale by Harry Gregson-Williams (from the Shrek soundtrack) and a piano cover of Lavender's Blue (Dilly Dilly) (from the 2015 Cinderella movie soundtrack).
A/N: Hello! Firstly, I'd like to say thank you for clicking on this story, since it's a choice and not something that someone can necessarily be forced to do (for the most part). I hope that whoever reads this will enjoy it, and I also greatly hope that I did certain characters justice. You'll know who I'm talking about once they make their appearance in this chapter.
I will have to say, I may or may not have taken a bit of creative liberty with some things. However, most things will be following along exactly as Miss Rowling's wonderful world goes. This story will be Hogwarts-centric and will follow all seven years, and will have quite a bit of OCs appearing, both main and supportive. It will also be set in modern day, exactly twenty years before our current time.
I don't think there is anything else to take note of, so I'll leave it off here. Once again, I hope you enjoy!
Once Upon a Prophecy I
First Year
Chapter ONE:
"A Prima Vista"
Opening Theme: Double Trouble/Lumos! (Hedwig's Theme) by The Dark Side of the Moon.
Soft notes floated up and into the air.
Eyes of freshly polished emerald opened blearily as the notes meandered gracefully and almost lazily to her ears. They penetrated the walls of her bedroom to assail her, but she had absolutely no protests in mind. In all honesty, the girl was happy to hear such melodic tunes, even though everyone in the house was supposed to be asleep.
Including herself.
But, try as she might to go back to sleep, the beautiful music continued to purposefully dance its way to her as if it were against the very idea of her falling back into dreamland.
And so, without any further attempts to do the former, the girl threw her blanket off of her tiny body while clutching tightly to her stuffed cat plushie, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She allowed her feet to touch the cold, hard wooden floor, the sensation a right shock to her once warm soles.
The darkness was thankfully kept at bay due to the moonlight streaming in through her uncovered window, its diamond-like companions twinkling brightly by its side, and so she found herself easily able to maneuver her way to the door that lead into her bedroom.
Once she arrived, she slowly, and as quietly as possible, opened the door.
A distinct creaking sounded out and bounced off the walls that made up the long, dark corridor. The girl stuck her head out between the door and frame, gaze shifting from left to right as if she were looking for something in particular.
After realizing that which she sought couldn't be seen, she slipped out from the opening and into the hall, closing her door just as slowly and quietly as she managed to do prior.
While still holding her plushie to her chest with one arm, the girl traversed the corridor with her other hand trailing one of the walls, her bare feet producing soft thudding noises that were in competition with the music that was still traveling throughout the house.
The melody got louder and louder as she got closer to the room it was originating from, and it wasn't long before she came upon a door that was ajar, allowing light to leak out and into the hall.
Without hesitation, the girl approached it, eyes peering in through the crack.
The scene she witnessed caused her heart to flutter in happiness and a smile of pure, blinding light to stretch the corners of her mouth up.
Sitting at the piano, back straight and shoulders squared, was a very familiar man. As seen in the way his fingers flew across the keys deftly, the man was the reason for the euphonious music erupting from the beautifully dazzling instrument.
His hair, which resembled the color of black ink, was wavy and somewhat unkempt unlike its usual slicked back appearance, the strands so short that the nape of his neck was left visible. The man was dressed in a robe the color of midnight and grey pajama trousers while his feet were covered with slippers.
Seated beside him was a woman of equal familiarity, body leaning toward the man so their shoulders were touching. Her hands were lying in her lap, listening intently and watching with rapt interest, fascination and an indescribable fondness as he continued his ministrations.
Her hair, long and colored a light blonde, fell against her back like a pale waterfall, flowing in waves all around her. Her bangs were slightly choppy with the ends stopping a bit above her eyes. The woman wore a periwinkle blue robe over a white silk gown, feet donned in ballerina slippers.
Soon, the music came to an end.
After resting his hands in his lap, the man turned his gaze to his wife who returned it, freshly polished emerald meeting sky shaded blues.
They stared into each other's eyes for the longest time, and then he spoke.
Softly, barely above a whisper, he said, "You know I love you, right? Always have and always will."
The woman smiled, placing a hand upon her husband's shoulder. She opened her mouth to reciprocate when he put his hand on her own as a silent request to let him continue.
"There is no one I would rather be sitting next to right now. No one I would rather be spending the rest of my life with, right now. And there is no one, no one at all, that I would want to be the love of my life, except for you. You are the only one meant for me."
The man pressed his forehead to hers, eyes intense and sincere. "I love you with all of my heart."
"I know. . ." the words escaped her in the same manner that he had spoken. A lone tear pricked the corner of her eye before escaping, trailing down her cheek and then to her chin. "And I hope that you're aware that the same goes for me to you."
Gently, lovingly, he kissed his wife under her eye and then her forehead, causing her to close her eyes at the sensation. After she laid her head on his shoulder, her husband placed his own upon hers.
The little girl watched the scene until the very end, her smile never fading and her heart continuously doing its fluttery dance behind her rib cage.
It was moments like these, whether witnessed covertly or not, where she was reminded all over again the blinding love that the two adults shared with one another, that they felt for one another. It encircled the pair like a barrier, like a shield that couldn't be penetrated by outside forces.
And it was this same love that they wrapped her up in whenever they looked at her and embraced her. It blanketed her like a second skin, coddling her within its safe confines, refusing to let go no matter what.
She loved it. She loved watching others being loved, and she loved being loved herself, and deep down she hoped that she would never tire of having such a strong and wonderful and persistent emotion directed toward her.
The girl didn't look away, even as the enchanting moon began to disappear to be replaced by the radiant sun.
It was two weeks before the big day, and the sun shined as brilliantly as it always did as it took its rightful place in the blue aerial ocean above.
Its rays shined down upon a huge, majestic mansion that took up as much space as it deemed it needed. Vines slinked up the corners, not really invasive or intrusive in their existence. At least for now.
Though the building looked as if it were brand new, it was in fact extremely old. It had been passed down to the next successive head of the family each and every generation for many centuries. Beyond the large structure, a beautiful and elaborate garden stretched as far back as the land allowed it, seemingly disappearing into the distance.
It was filled to the brim with flowers of many different kinds and varieties, bright, vibrant and colorful, with trees dotting the expanse every now and then. A lone willow tree, that was equally as big, was planted in the very center of the garden, standing like a strong guardian watching over all of the inhabitants.
Inside of the mansion, within a particular room on the first floor, a soft and soothing melody was carried all throughout the premises.
Upon entering it, the first thing one would see would be the long stretch of windows accompanied by double doors that were also made of glass, the walls that they were attached to being a calm beige hue. Out of them, one could see some of the mansion's garden, and a generous amount of sunlight streamed in to illuminate the room, shining off the flooring which was a medium brown, swirls in the wood swaying from side to side, almost as if they were dancing.
A huge, sophisticatedly designed chandelier hung from the ceiling in the very center, and many large pots holding various kinds of flowers were placed occasionally along the left and right walls.
The room in question was empty save for a grand piano, which was situated on a floor that was a level up from the main one, and a little girl at the tender age of eleven seated on the stool in front of it, as well as a kitten lying upon the lid of the instrument.
Her light blonde hair was naturally wavy while being parted in the middle, the ends stopping past her jaw. A lone strand stubbornly separated itself from the rest, casually lying against the bridge of her nose. Eyes of freshly polished emerald stared transfixed at the keys which her hands, though small and dainty, were moving across swiftly and with effortless ease.
Her body was donned in a simple shirt and shorts while her feet were bare, legs swinging back and forth periodically. A bright, happy smile stretched the corners of her mouth wide.
An intricately designed silver bracelet fit snug on her left wrist. The jewel piece, which resembled the color of her irises, was embedded in the top center, the light from the window glinting off the smooth surface, granting it a beautiful shine.
She hummed along to the tune, upper body swaying from side to side.
The lyrics that would've accompanied the piece escaped her automatically, floating into the air along with the notes.
Atop the piano, the black and white kitten rested on her back, front paws cutely drawn close to her chest. One of her hind legs was in the air while the other hung off to the side. Her eyes were closed as she listened to the music pouring seamlessly from the instrument.
When the sound suddenly came to a stop, she cracked one of her eyes open to stare inquisitively at her companion.
Rion laid her hands in her lap as she contemplated what piece to play next.
The one she had just played had a romantic flair to it, and although she loved performing those kinds of scores, the girl was hoping to inject a sense of calm and relaxation without any of the former inclinations attached to it.
Carting through all the scores she could actually perform, and those she couldn't as well as those that needed an extra person, a look of realization appeared on her face. Reaching over to the far side of the piano, Rion gathered up all of the scores she had, taking three specific ones from the pile.
After putting the rest back from where she got them, she turned her attention to the kitten, who was still looking at her with only one eye open.
"What do you think, Sonata?" Rion held them up for said kitten to see. "Should I play a Beethoven, Mozart, or Chopin piece?"
As if it were a hard choice to make, Sonata remained unmoving, silent, as she appeared to think heavily on the girl's question. Suddenly, she stretched an arm out, but not toward any of the papers that were brandished in front of her.
Instead, she pointed a paw at the one that was lying on the very top of the pile. Rion immediately glanced down only to frown at the paper in question.
With tentative fingers, she picked it up and then showed the front page to Sonata. "This one? But I was hoping for a calm one. This particular piece by Rachmaninoff is kind of. . . intense."
The look in Sonata's lone green eye told her everything.
You asked and I answered. And my answer is that.
The girl released a soft sigh.
After replacing the other paper with the new one, she was just about to start playing, fingers poised expertly over the keys, when another stroke of realization hit her.
With the piano regrettably forgotten, Rion glanced down at one of her pockets, fingers slowly inching away from the keys. She dove a hand in to then pull out an object that could fit in the very palm of her hand. Pressing down on the button, the lid opened to reveal a clock's face and its two hands, one resting on ten and another at five.
The girl counted in her head: the shorter hand was pointing at ten while the longer was positioned toward five. Remembering what each meant, Rion bounced up and out of her seat almost instantaneously, brightly vibrant emeralds wide.
This action caused Sonata to jump. Her other eye shot open, revealing a deep blue, her entire body shifting so she was now lying on her side, facing her companion. She watched in silence, waiting for any more moves that would be made by the human.
Rion quickly shoved her pocket watch back into her pocket, taking the paper off the music desk and setting it back with the others on the piano.
"It's almost time to leave!" came Rion's excited voice. "Come on, Sonata!"
Said kitten wasn't ready for much of anything when the girl reached out to scoop her into her arms, Sonata's claws coming to dig into the fabric of Rion's shirt on instinct as an extra form of precaution so she wouldn't fall while the girl raced out of the room, down a corridor and up the stairs to the second floor.
The hallway was alight, illuminated graciously by the sun through the windows that occasionally took space along the right wall.
On the left, there were many doors with unlit lanterns for nightly use dotting the space between each door. Deep red covered the walls, resembling the color of a full glass of wine, and the deep brown wooden floor was covered by a long stretch of dark green, like that of a forest.
The fabric was incredibly soft, giving a soothing sensation to Rion's soles as she practically barreled down the hallway, momentum not stopping until she arrived at a different door. Opening it with one of her hands, it revealed a bedroom—her bedroom.
Large glass doors that lead out onto the balcony were directly opposite the entrance, the curtains pulled back to allow the light to come in. The view of the rolling green hills in the distance was breathtaking, the telltale sign of a breeze rustling the leaves on the trees.
The walls were painted a royal purple and the floor was the same color and material as the one in the hallway. A royal navy blue rug could be seen in the center of the room, large, wide and round, partially hidden under the end of her bed.
The bed was placed against the wall to her left, a canopy above it with white silk falling and draping all around it. Next to it, a nightstand was flanking it on either side. On one in particular, there was a picture frame with a moving picture inside it, the visage of a man, a woman and a little girl smiling. They appeared to be laughing jovially in it.
On the right a cat condo was situated, many toys littering the floor. Two dishes for food and water were around the area along with a scratching post.
After entering the room and sauntering over to the cat station, Rion peered into the dishes to make sure that they were full. Finding them to be such, she gently set Sonata onto the floor, the kitten's mismatched eyes looking up into the girl's bright emeralds as if asking a question.
Rion smiled sadly. "I'm sorry, Sonata. Where I'm going, you can't come."
She extended a hand, resting it in the air above Sonata's head. Said kitten closed her eyes as she bumped her head against the girl's palm. Rion's smile widened to border a grin.
After lifting herself back to her full height, the eleven-year-old walked to her bedroom door, stopping between it and the frame. Her eyes rested on Sonata.
"I'll see and play with you later, Sonata!" Rion waved her free hand. She made to leave when she realized something, once again looking over at Sonata. "I love you!"
The kitten meowed, as if responding back in kind.
The girl grinned, very bright and incredibly happy, a small blush dusting her cheeks.
After the door was securely closed, Rion began jogging down the corridor, soon turning a corner where she descended a different set of stairs than the ones she had ascended previously. After turning again, and descending another batch of steps and leaping over the final three, she found herself in the foyer, a scarcely furnished room where more deep red colored the walls.
The entrance to the manor was directly in front of her, a window each flanking the doors on both sides. A coat rack was situated near the door while an umbrella stand with exactly four umbrellas inside accompanied it. To the right when coming down the stairs, a small table was placed against the wall, a pot full of flowers settled on the surface with a mirror hanging above. In the center was a large square rug of the same color as the one in the halls.
Pivoting on her heel, Rion zoomed into the living room, catching sight of a figure seated on one of the sofas.
The person in question was her uncle who had a newspaper in his hands, the middle open so that there were more articles on display. His light blond hair was short and set atop his head in a neat fashion, while he was dressed in a white button shirt underneath a long-sleeve purple jumper with beige trousers.
The words plastered along the front at the very top of the newspaper were read as the Daily Prophet. The Prophet was the most widely produced and published newspaper for the entire wizarding world to enjoy not only reading but also to become aware of specific, as well as pertinent, information. The articles ranged anywhere from the mediocre to the most entertaining, right down to the important news that one would need to know about regardless of how they felt about the company or newspapers in general.
She walked up behind him casually, even though the end result of her next action was anything but casual.
Resting her arms on the back of the sofa, Rion leaned forward to read one of the articles. Her voice was filled with curiosity and interest as she said, "There's a new kind of broomstick on the market?"
The man jumped, hands fisting the fragile material in his hands. A loud crinkling noise sounded out, breaking and filling the silence that had once surrounded the room. Her uncle inhaled deeply, quickly calming down as he whipped his head around, sky shaded blues a bit wide.
"Rion. When did you get there?"
She smiled. "Just now, Uncle Boris."
Boris mirrored the action. "Well, that saves me the trouble of coming to get you."
"So, it is nearing the time to leave, right, Uncle?"
"That's correct."
His niece scanned the interior of the living room as if looking for something. When she didn't seem to find it, she turned her attention back to her uncle. "Hey, Uncle, where's Tay and Aunt Rebekah?"
"Out in the garden."
Rion's eyes were wide.
Boris was surprisingly calm. "They're not too far in. About ten feet from the entrance—a perfectly safe distance and still visible from the door."
That explained his unconcern. Still, it was a big step. Even ten feet could, and usually did, warrant a lot of worry and overprotectiveness from the head of the house. Boris wasn't usually so fixated on being protective of his family, but the garden was a real stressor for him due to its large size and the ease of becoming lost in the vast expanse.
The estate's garden was truly the epitome of beautiful, but also deadly.
But if he ever caught her cousin and aunt going further in than was absolutely necessary. . .
Boris wouldn't be able to sit where he was without having a say about it.
He folded up the now frumpled newspaper to set it on the surface of the table in the center of the room. After lifting himself to his feet, Boris searched around inside one of his trouser pockets for his watch, his eyes stealing a glance at it to see its hands pointing at ten and eight with the short and long hands, respectively.
"And now it's time to leave. . ."
Looking over at Rion, he extended a hand for her to take. She rounded the sofa, reaching out one of her own to grasp his. When she did, Boris took note of the fact that she wasn't wearing any shoes. He briefly, and gently, instructed her to do so. Doing as she was told, Rion left the room to go back into the foyer.
The girl returned with her feet clad in a simple pair of trainers. Her uncle nodded, once again grabbing her hand. A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escaped Boris. His worry was beginning to rear its head, and he looked over toward the adjacent kitchen, the open doorway calling him to check up on his wife and other niece.
Suddenly, a small hand came to rest on his own. The man jolted a bit in surprise, whirling around to stare at her. Rion merely smiled, eyes flickering, her palm radiating gentleness and assurance.
Boris deflated, worry gradually vanishing as he continued looking into her bright emeralds. The thought that he was lacking in something if his niece, a child, felt like she had to comfort her uncle, an adult, bothered him greatly, but he was grateful and appreciative of her doing so regardless.
He smiled back, bringing his other hand to touch hers, both of their hands now stacked on top of each other.
The man then made sure that two of their hands were firmly and tightly clasped together before apparating the both of them from the mansion and to their desired destination.
Rion was utterly taken by the sight of Diagon Alley once she and her uncle had officially arrived.
People of all ages meandered about, going about their shopping with loud and almost boisterous chatter following them. Shops lined both sides of the cobblestoned path, the items they sold either brandished in the windows or placed outside, their names written above the entrances or on signs that hung off the walls.
A glance further down the way allowed her to know that there was much more to be seen than what was currently shown around her.
The pair were standing in the center of one of the largest, and certainly one of the most important, sectors in all of the wizarding world of Great Britain, with Boris staring down at the letter that had been sent to Rion upon her eleventh birthday while said girl was constantly whipping her head around, doing her utmost best to take in every single thing that was happening around her.
Her curiosity was beginning to get the better of her. Having seen something that caught her attention, Rion's feet began to automatically lead her in that particular direction only for Boris to hold her hand tighter, his arm acting as a leash of sorts to keep her by his side.
His sky blues continued to skim the contents of the letter, brain whirling to try and figure out which item they should acquire first before any of the others.
A soft sigh that ultimately broke Rion from her focus escaped him, her eyes veering over to look at him. "I believe getting your cauldron and potion ingredients would be the better option as those shops are closer, so perhaps that's where we'll go first."
"Is this really big enough to hold everything, Uncle?"
At Rion's question, Boris looked at the object she was referring to. A messenger bag was slung over her shoulder and lying against her other side, her free hand holding the strap.
"Of course it is," he said, smiling. "After all, I've done some expanding of its interior."
She canted her head, confused.
The gears in her head started to turn around and around, picking through her memory on the old book of spells that was clearly outdated yet still held important information on many of the charms that were still being used by the wide populace of the wizarding world.
Suddenly, it clicked.
Rion snapped her gaze upward to look at Boris who was still smiling, the action now holding a subtle mischievous quality to it.
The man put a finger to his lips. "Let's keep this as our little secret, yeah?"
She mirrored the action. "My lips are sealed, Uncle Boris."
And then, after making sure that they were holding onto each other's hands tight enough that neither of them would get lost in the sea of people, Boris and Rion marched on, their figures swallowed by the crowd just as emerald flames erupted behind them, signaling the arrival of another to the alley.
"I can't believe it. . ."
Her voice was mystified as she watched Rion getting fitted for her school uniform, the girl doing her utmost best to remain as still as possible. The sentient measuring tape moved along one of her arms to then venture down to measure the length of one of her legs.
Rion watched, utterly fascinated with wide eyes, through the full-length mirror in front of her as the object continued its ministrations uninhibited.
Madam Meriwether, a woman of small stature with gradually greying hair with remnants of her natural cordovan brown still visible, put her palms together in front of her face, pale yellows glistening. "She looks so much like Constance, yet her eyes resemble Magnus's—it's truly uncanny."
Boris smiled, arms loosely crossed over his chest, messenger bag draped over one shoulder. "Yes. But, she doesn't have the gaze he did. And you should catch a glimpse of her personality: it's a mixture of the two with some of her own thrown in."
The woman mirrored his smile. "It feels like only yesterday that I had those two enter my shop to be fitted for their Hogwarts robes. . . And you as well, Boris. I heard the missus is with child, is that true?"
The eleven-year-old canted her head, the action reflected with her other self in the mirror, still fully focused on the tape.
"Yes," the man nodded. "The doctor said she should be going into labor the following week."
"Really? That's so soon, and not too long before Miss Winters goes to school. Are you excited?"
"Well, of course I'm excited, but I'm also terrified. A lot of things can happen when a woman gives birth. . ."
"That's true, I won't deny that," Madam Meriwether said, smiling in a reassuring manner. "But, I'm sure your wife and child will come out of it healthy."
He released a soft sigh, the action filled with hopefulness. "That's really all I can ask and hope for."
The woman smiled broadly just then, eyes shining with happiness. "Boris, you remember my grandson, right?"
Boris blinked, mentally picking through his memories before recognition dawned on his face. "You mean Roy? What about him?"
"Well," Madam Meriwether began, "I heard from my son that he's been made prefect at school, isn't that wonderful?"
"Really? That's fantastic! Only exceptional students are given the honor of becoming a prefect."
"I know! Just like his father before him! Even his mother was prefect when she went to Hogwarts! I'm so proud of him. He really has grown from the child he once was into an exceptional young man."
From their peripherals, the pair saw Rion trying to grasp the measuring tape which ultimately floated away from her and toward Madam Meriwether. Said woman took it in her hands gratefully, a white-feathered quill coming to dutifully jot down Rion's measurements as soon as the tape touched her palms.
She glanced down, instantaneously casting another charm to get the other objects to work of their own accord. A sewing machine in one corner began stitching large pieces of black fabric together once they were brought to it. Another started working on a slate grey fabric, turning it into another something that the eleven-year-old could wear upon her arrival to Hogwarts.
Rion watched this new scene with rapt interest, her innate restlessness making her move in place. Witnessing this, Madam Meriwether laughed, jovially and without a hint of malice.
Boris, too, smiled fondly at his niece, head tilted to the side a bit.
Since the machines and objects moved of their own volition, it didn't take long for Rion's uniform to be finished, and she was already dressed in it and moving around in front of the same mirror she had been in front of the entire time. She did a small twirl, the long black robe following the motion before settling back down once she ceased all movement.
Instead of her simple shirt and shorts, she was donned in a white button shirt underneath a slate grey buttoned cardigan with a v-neck collar, a black knee-length skirt with socks the same length and color, and the long black robe that reached the back of her ankles. The sleeves were long and fanned out around her wrists, her bracelet still visible depending on the angle one looked from. A black tie was tied around her neck with most of it being tucked securely in her cardigan while the top remained visible.
Rion began posing randomly, getting a feel for her new outfit.
One in particular caused both Boris and Madam Meriwether to laugh out loud, startling the poor girl. Her twin emeralds settled on them, a blindingly bright smile lighting up her features, happy to have made the adults laugh no matter how foolish she may have looked to them.
She did another one, grinning now when she saw and heard them laugh again.
After conversing a bit more with Madam Meriwether, Boris and Rion left the tailor shop with three pairs of the latter's newly made and bought uniform. She held the strap of the bag in her hands as she kept close to her uncle's side, the both of them once again weaving around the other shoppers as they walked to their next destination.
In the crowd, they passed by another pair, a wall of people separating them and keeping them from seeing each other. They traveled in the opposite direction, going into the shop that the other had been in prior.
A bell rang out once Boris and Rion entered, the latter's curious gaze sweeping around the shop and finding nothing but books upon books lining many shelves.
Stealing a glance at the list, Boris sauntered over to where the books had been placed when he first came there to get his books before going to Hogwarts. And just as he hoped, the first year books were there, and he started collecting the ones that were recommended on the list with some extras, just in case.
Rion watched her uncle before shifting her gaze over to the counter to find a man of average height standing there, appearing to be lost in thought. Her curiosity was so strong that she meandered her way over to him, Boris seeing this but not at all alarmed.
He trusted his niece, and the man didn't seem like the type to watch out for in the negative sense, but Boris still threw casual glances over his shoulder regardless.
Once she made it to the counter it was as if the man had been snapped out of whatever trance he was placed under, violet irises looking into bright emeralds.
Rion smiled. "Hello, sir."
He canted his head, mind still somewhere else. "Hello."
"Are you all right?" she mimicked the action. "It seemed like something was bothering you."
"Oh," the man said, very intelligently. And then he jolted, snapping back to reality in full this time. "Oh! My apologies! I must've been spacing—I'm so sorry!"
Rion giggled, shaking her head, light blonde following the movement. "It's all right, sir. As long as everything is okay, you don't need to apologize."
"No, no, it isn't," he sighed, eyes closing as his shoulders slumped. "I'm running a shop and I didn't even notice the arrival of a potential customer. Once again, allow me to express my apologies."
The man bowed a bit, and the girl was still confused, not at all understanding of why he was so apologetic and began politely insisting that he was fine.
Boris walked up, books settled between one arm and his chest. Cordially, he smiled, placing all the items upon the surface of the counter.
"If you would please ring these up, my good sir,"
"Of course!" the man did as Boris requested, sounding out the total amount needed in exchange for them afterward.
Rion handed off the bag to her uncle who took it without hesitation, one of her hands reaching in to pull a small pouch out of it, the sound of coins knocking against one another taking over the silence.
After opening it up and reaching in with her other hand to take out a handful, Rion placed the coins on the counter, gold and some silver piled haphazardly together. Boris creased his brows, openly noting the fact that his niece didn't take the time to count how much she had grabbed.
Rion smiled sheepishly.
The man behind the counter assured that it was no trouble and set about counting the coins. Once he was finished, he noted that the amount was a bit over how much was truly needed to buy the books.
When he informed Rion of this, she pursed her lips in thought to then smile at him, the action bright and shining as if trying to compete for the position of the sun.
"You can keep them," she said, hands beginning to collect the books to put them into the bag. Boris watched, a tall and silent sentinel. "I don't need all this money—there's only so much a kid like me can buy."
"Like candy?" Boris playfully raised a brow. "Specifically chocolate?"
Rion's smile widened upon hearing her favorite word.
The man behind the counter was absolutely stunned. This wasn't the first time he had encountered someone telling him that he could keep the extra coins that had been laid down, the very person having left not too long before the pair in front him had entered the shop.
Bright ruby-like irises flitted to his mind, warmth swirling in them as a kind smile appeared on the boy's lips. Blond hair rested against the nape of his neck while some strands hovered around his left eye and a lock fell on each side of his face.
"That's quite all right, sir. You can keep them. Use them for the shop or anything you may need them for."
Twice in one day he had been showered with a kindness that he remembered only happening on a few other occasions while he manned the shop. It wasn't rare, but it wasn't common, either.
Regardless, the man frowned slightly, extending a hand holding the extra coins. "Are you sure? I don't need to have the others."
"It's fine," her smile was now directed at him. "I don't need it either, not all of it, at least. You can have it, mister."
He retracted his hand slowly, fingers opening to allow the coins to fall back into the pile, the jingle of metal hitting each other ringing out again. A grateful smile fluttered into existence, his eyes flickering at the girl's kindness.
The man expressed his gratitude verbally and happily saw them off when the pair decided to leave the shop after acquiring what they came for.
Once again Boris and Rion became apart of the crowd. There was only one more destination they needed to go toward, only one more shop before they could finally head back home for the day. And without any form of hesitation, Boris herded the both of them in the direction of it, hand placed on Rion's far shoulder to keep her close to him.
Despite having been there for at least an hour, the sea of people hadn't seemed to have dwindled even a little bit, and so the possibility of getting swept away by the current was still a prospect that lingered in the air.
As they continued to pass the other shoppers, Rion's eyes settled upon a particular shop that wasn't on their list. Just like her curiosity had done before she and her uncle had started on their shopping journey, the eleven-year-old's feet began to lead her to where that building was located.
Boris, who was still keeping her close, felt her body veering away and looked down, noticing where her gaze was currently focused. He followed it, finding the reason for her sudden shifting.
He felt his eyes widen.
Without warning, she spoke up, finger pointing at the building, "Can we go there, Uncle Boris?"
"I don't know, Rion. We can't spend too much time here."
"Only for a little bit. Please?"
And then she looked up at him with imploring bright emeralds and he faltered, knowing full well that that was going to happen once he met her eyes, but did it nonetheless on instinct.
A sigh, and then: "All right. But only for a little bit."
Rion released a cry of happiness as they meandered their way to the other shop, some of the passersby glancing over in surprise and shock at the unexpected noise.
"Why, Boris, I didn't think I'd ever see you in here."
"Oh, trust me, Mr. Copplestone, I normally wouldn't enter this kind of shop."
The shop owner was a man that stood about the same height as Boris, jet-black strands lying neatly on his head while his eyes were a burnt orange shade, almost shifting toward a copper color in some places.
Mr. Copplestone's eyes twinkled knowingly, gaze shifting to look over at Rion who was currently taken by the large display of broomsticks along the walls, her eyes shimmering with excitement.
"Ah, so Miss Winters is the reason you're in here."
"That's right," Boris nodded, his own sky blues looking at his niece, a fond shine glinting in them. "Surprisingly, there's a Winters who doesn't mind being in the air."
Mr. Copplestone laughed. "She's not just a Winters, though, is she? She's also a Thorne, perhaps that's where her love of flying comes from?"
"Possibly. . ." said Boris, watching as Rion moved from the Nimbus 2004 and over towards the Firebolt Supreme.
Shock flickered through him at the sight and he had the urge to pull her back before she saw the words plastered along the handle in fancy gold cursive. Boris found that he didn't need to as she moved away from it to approach an entirely different kind of broom instead.
The man sighed softly, body deflating where it had been tensed before.
"So," Mr. Copplestone began, friendly smile on his features, "are you actually shopping or is this just a little look-see?"
"The latter," answered Boris. "We have a lot on our plate already, and it's forbidden for first-years to have a broom until their second year."
"If she's this interested in brooms, do you think she'll make her House's Quidditch team just to fly on one of them?"
"Well, that certainly wouldn't be surprising, but for her to actually make the team would be. However, that'll be up to her as well as the captain if she does or not."
Loud thumps made their way to the two men who looked over in unison at the one who was rapidly approaching them. "Uncle! Uncle!"
Said man peered down at the girl. "Yes?"
"Can I have a broom for a present this upcoming Christmas?"
"That's quite a tall order. . . You're aware that first-years aren't allowed their own brooms until their second-year, I hope?"
"I know. Besides, I'd only keep it at the estate to fly around on. Please?"
"Is that so? Hm. . ."
Silently, the man mulled it over.
From an outside looking in perspective, such a question appeared quite reasonable, with no protests seeming to be needed. But, as someone who knew Rion very, very well, Boris was reluctant to give his niece such an opportunity for unfettered power. To be able to fly in the air, and to go anywhere she wanted—even far away from the estate—already gave the man enough reason to reject her request.
But, Boris had to admit, Rion wasn't immature, but she did lack some semblance of self-preservation instincts. Mostly because of her curiosity and instant interest in that which she was unfamiliar with. Like a typical child, his niece would go off on her own without even a word about it first, something that Boris had tried to prevent on multiple occasions.
For her to fly on a broom. . . the man could only think of bad things happening if he allowed it.
However, if one looked past those traits of Rion, it wasn't necessarily a bad idea. And since Hogwarts, the only educational institute for those of magical birth, allowed those between the ages of twelve and thirteen to have their own brooms upon entering their second year, then perhaps it would be fine. . .
But, Boris pondered, making a face, if she tried to use this to get further into the garden, it'll pose a problem.
Just as the head of the family opened his mouth to answer, he was promptly interrupted.
The bell above the door sounded out. The three in the shop glanced at the newcomer, sighting a man and a little girl sauntering their way inside. Vivid red colored the strands of their hair while their eyes were blue with a shade of dull grey permeating the perimeter of the irises.
The man was tall and lanky while the girl was considerably shorter, and they were both dressed in casual clothing from head to toe, looking about as normal as anyone who was categorized as a wizard and witch.
Upon seeing them, Mr. Copplestone jolted. "Mr. Reid! A pleasure to see you!"
Said man bowed his head slightly and then raised it, eyes piercing. "Mr. Copplestone. It's been a while since we last met."
"Yes, it has," Mr. Copplestone nodded. He discreetly clasped his hands together under the counter. "How may I be of service?"
Mr. Reid waved his hand in a nonchalant manner as his daughter's attention was immediately seized by the brooms. "You already have customers, do you not? Tend to them and I'll speak with you afterwards."
It was then that Mr. Reid got a good look at exactly who those 'customers' were. Instantaneously, his gaze hardened. Without a moment's hesitation, he waltzed up to Boris with Rion standing in front of her uncle, both of them staring at him, Boris with a knowing glint in his eyes and Rion with unveiled confusion and worry.
"Boris," Mr. Reid's voice sounded polite, but there was an underlying emotion hidden underneath that didn't go undetected by Boris. "Fancy seeing you here."
"Clarence," greeted Boris, tone as sweet as water.
Blue-greys glanced down to meet bright emeralds, the owner of them flinching upon making eye contact, her hands tightening around the strap of her bag. "And is this who I think it is?"
Rion didn't get a chance to say anything—and with how she was feeling, the eleven-year-old wasn't really up for communicating with this shady man—as Boris pulled her closer, situating her against his side far away from Mr. Reid.
Boris was far from being any form of kind. "What do you want, Clarence?"
"Must you be so hostile, Boris?" Mr. Reid's eyes flashed. Boris frowned. "After all, it's been a long time since we last spoke to each other."
"Yes, and I vividly remember what exactly happened that last time, too. And if there is a repeat, don't think I won't have a few choice words to say about it."
"Oh, that? My apologies, I was under quite a lot of stress back then, and so some things I shouldn't have said were, well, said."
Stress, right. . . Boris's frown deepened, his eyes narrowed.
"I believe we're done here," he peered down at Rion to find her looking up at him, a certain emotion swirling in her eyes. Boris found he didn't like it one bit. "Let's go, Rion."
Said girl dutifully trailed after her uncle closely, hands still holding the bags strap as if it were a lifeline or it was a shield that would protect her from harm. Rion could feel Mr. Reid's gaze on her very acutely, and it made her rush forward, pushing the shop's door wide open to become one with the crowd once more.
Boris shouted her name quickly, his feet racing after her while attempting to tell her that she should slow down.
Rion looked over her shoulder at him, not realizing that her body was sailing right into another. The collision wasn't particularly harsh, but it wasn't in any way soft, either.
A noise escaped both her and the other person, and she had the vague sense that she was falling to the ground. She was kept aloft in the air by a gentle yet firm hand that was wrapped around her forearm.
Brought back on an even keel, her eyes were closed as she said with genuine remorse, "I'm so sorry. I really hope I didn't hurt you."
"I'm all right," the voice came from a boy, the one she had unintentionally bumped into in her haste to leave the shop. "What about you? Are you hurt in anyway?"
"No," she shook her head, eyes slowly opening. "And are you absolutely sure that you—"
Rion's eyes were wide, all other words that she was about to say fading away.
The boy mirrored her gaze.
Green met red, silence taking hold of the atmosphere even though the hustle and bustle of the other patrons in the alley blared all around them. Everyone else was oblivious of the interaction that was silently happening between the children, a gentle and wistful breeze playing with the strands of their hair and the hem of their clothing.
Red—like the freshly ripe apples that grew on trees, like the setting sun as it lowered itself slowly past the horizon, like some of the flowers that had been planted in the mansion's garden, like the sight of a bright and warm—
Instantaneously, she shook her head once: curt, sharp, almost as if to drive that last particular image from her mind.
It was then that she looked up, seeing for the first time the person who had kept her from crumbling to the ground like a fragile tower of cards. It was also then that, after he had raised himself to his full height, she saw just how tall the man was.
Only one word left her lips, eyes big as wonder shined in their depths. "Wow."
She had to crane her neck back in order to try and meet his eyes which were a nice, warm brown that reminded her of a freshly brewed cup of tea, the sometimes rough, sometimes smooth bark of the willow tree in the garden, as well as a newly opened pack of chocolate.
Black hair that held some streaks of white was slicked back, the strands kept away from his face while also being held in a low ponytail.
A cordial smile flitted to the man's lips, the very epitome of an employee to a rich and well-known family.
Boris exited the shop just as a wall of people appeared, barring him access to his niece. In the tiny windows of visibility that were provided as the other shoppers passed, he could see Rion's features shift from surprise as she made eye contact with the boy to astonishment when she looked up at the man who had prevented her from falling.
Suddenly, she was brandishing her signature smile, mouth moving silently since her voice was being drowned out by the loud noise still bouncing around the alley. Her gaze flitted from the boy to the man and back in almost quick succession, all fear she'd felt earlier vanishing as though it had never been there at all.
Boris wasn't at all surprised to see her so animated when talking to complete strangers, the girl was very outgoing and could hold a conversation well enough. But he was surprised at the glint in Rion's eyes whenever they fell upon the boy who looked to be the same age as herself.
As soon as the path was open, Boris bolted toward Rion.
She looked over just in time to see him approach. With quick words of apologies and that she would be right back, Rion hurried over to her uncle to grab one of his hands with both of hers. After, she began to drag him over to where the other pair were still standing, politely waiting for the girl to return.
Once she did, Boris got a better look at his niece's savior as well as the one she had collided into.
Beaming brightly, Rion said, "Uncle Boris, this is Will and Mr. Renfield."
Utterly taken aback by the sudden turn of events that had transpired so swiftly and unpredictably, Boris inclined his head briefly but politely after his eyes shifted from one to the other as the duo were introduced to him.
"Hello. It's nice to meet the both of you. I'm Boris. Boris Winters." A look of guilt settled over his features. "I apologize for my niece, gentlemen. She. . . has a tendency to run off without looking where she's going first."
What he said wasn't a lie, though in this case Rion had a specific reason as to why she had completely disregarded her surroundings. Boris wasn't going to elaborate on that why as it wasn't his place nor anyone's business really, unless his niece decided otherwise.
"That's quite all right, Mr. Winters," the one known as Mr. Renfield spoke. "Some children become enraptured in their own world from time to time."
Boris and Rion exchanged a glance.
Being in her own world was definitely a frequent occurrence even though in this case it was more of a stated fact than an observation.
After proper introductions were made, and Boris's subsequent expression conveying his simultaneous recognition and surprise upon hearing William's last name and the name of Jack's employer, it was revealed that their next destination was the same.
It was determined that the best course of action would be to go together instead of separately, and so the formerly two pairs had now formed one quartet. William and Rion walked ahead of Jack and Boris, the other shoppers almost instinctively weaving around and away from them, as though they felt that they weren't supposed to be near the group.
Boris glanced down at his niece, who looked upward upon being addressed. "Rion. I really hope that you expressed your gratitude to Mr. Renfield for helping you as well as apologizing to William after you bumped into him."
Rion opened her mouth to reply, but was beaten to the punch by Jack.
"She did exactly that, Mr. Winters. Miss Winters was mannerly in her conduct, befitting one born from two of the most prominent wizard families in all of the wizarding world."
"That's good to know. Thank you for informing me, Mr. Renfield."
The topic of conversation pouted a bit, trudging onward.
As the men began to talk about a man known as Rockwell, Jack's employer as well as someone Boris had briefly known yet didn't really interact with when at Hogwarts, the children decided to converse affably with each other.
"Hey, Will," Rion started, head canted slightly, "you're a first-year like me, right?"
William nodded, a pleasant smile on his face. "That's right."
Upon hearing his confirmation, she smiled broadly, her whole body practically shining. "That means we'll be attending Hogwarts at the same time! Is the shop we're going to the last one for you too?"
"No, actually Mr. Jack and I will be going to the owl shop before we return to the manor."
"Oh, yeah, Hogwarts allows their students to have their own owl, don't they?"
"That's right. Judging by what you said earlier, you and Mr. Winters will be heading back home after you've gotten your wand, though it looks like you haven't acquired everything else you'll need yet."
Rion blinked, bewildered herself, and then she remembered. Her mouth formed an 'o' shape, eyes quickly looking over her shoulder at Boris to see the man was still held up in conversation with Jack.
Figuring that it would be fine just this once, and she had a feeling that William could be trusted in her deepest heart of hearts, Rion leaned forward in an almost conspiratorial way.
"Well," Rion shifted her gaze to her uncle again to make sure he wasn't paying attention to them before turning to once again look at William. "That's because this bag was cast with an Extension Charm. I have everything else I need right here."
The boy's own gaze flitted to the bag in question, eyes a bit wide in recognition, his suspicions confirmed.
The Extension Charm was a form of magic that was considered to be illegal by the Ministry if not given prior permission to be used. It was heavily controlled and kept secret, for many good reasons, of course. Such magic was highly dangerous in the wrong hands, as someone could smuggle and transport things that were illegal by either wizarding world or Muggle world laws, depending on what it was, and in large quantities without anyone knowing.
And if such an object that had been cast with that particular charm fell into the hands of a Muggle, it prompted the appearance of those from the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes to prevent anymore mishaps from occurring with the unfettered knowledge that a world filled with magic existed.
In a quiet voice, as he knew the repercussions if this particular information were to be let out, William said, "Mr. Winters is the one who cast the charm, right?"
Rion nodded. "Yeah. He's the only one in my family that can perform magic since he has a wand."
"Children," Rion flinched instantaneously, freezing up and refusing to look back. William, however, glanced at the man who spoke, nothing but calm showing on his features. "What are you both whispering about?"
She still didn't look back, not even by an inch.
The girl felt terrified at having possibly been found out. After all, she was supposed to have kept that fact just between her and her uncle, no one else was to know. Rion had the slightest, very slightest, urge to run into the crowd just as she did back at the broomstick shop. Being reprimanded by Boris wasn't something she found happiness nor pride in. On the contrary, she disliked it, especially when it came from a sense of disappointment on her uncle's part.
A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escaped her. This was it, she'd have to tell him. Rion was an atrocious liar, even if it could save her life, her facial expressions and body language overall giving her away every single time she made the attempt.
After sucking in a sharp breath, she opened her mouth to tell Boris the truth when she was once again prevented from doing so, but this time Rion was very thankful for the intrusion.
"We were just discussing what Houses we might be sorted into, Mr. Winters," William smiled amiably, the words escaping him swiftly and without much hesitation.
Rion blinked rapidly, staring at William in awe.
"Oh, really?" Boris returned the boy's smile. "Well, then, that's fine. I thought Rion had spoken about something she wasn't meant to. But, if not, then everything's fine."
Her shoulders, which had been visibly tensed, deflated quickly, similarly to that of air leaving a tire where it had been ruthlessly slashed open.
Rion sent a grateful smile in William's direction who responded with a smile of his own.
After coming upon their destination, which was a shop hidden in its own alcove away from the hustle and bustle of the crowd, it was fascinating how it appeared to be same height and width as all of the others around, but was in fact much bigger and wider on the inside.
In a book detailing this particular shop's history, it was reportedly much shorter and smaller, both in and outside, than how it was now. Even the alcove it was tucked away into had also expanded with the gradual growth that the building saw for many centuries.
The words Gallagher's Wand Emporium were written on the inside of the front window in cursive with magic.
Once the door had been opened by Jack, the four filed in one after the other.
The first thing one would see upon entry was a desk situated directly opposite the only door that lead in and out of the shop. Behind it was a shelf, filled with boxes and standing so tall that it looked like it could reach the ceiling. This shelf was not the only one of its kind as there were multiple, maybe even thousands more that were littered throughout the entire expanse of the interior.
More and more boxes could be seen stacked on top of each other and settled on the other shelves, no doubt cradling the many wands that the wandmaker had carefully crafted with materials that were carefully harvested from their respective tree and beast.
Immediately, Rion made a beeline for the desk, stopping right in front of it. Her green irises constantly fluttered from one shelf to the next, her body brimming with curiosity and anticipation that seemed to roll off of her similarly to ocean waves lapping toward a sandy shoreline.
Although he was much more subdued in his approach compared to the girl, William came to stand next to Rion, twin scarlets taking in the static scenery that surrounded the quartet from all sides and angles.
"This is so exciting," Rion said, moving a bit in her growing restlessness, hands placed upon the surface of the desk.
"I read once that the wand is the one who chooses the wizard," said William. "It's considered to be much more reliable than having the wizard choose their own."
Rion whipped over to look at him. "I heard about that! Mum and Dad told me that they felt sensations upon their wands 'choosing' them. They also said that theirs were different from each other—different woods and cores."
"That's because there are many trees and parts from magical beasts that can be used in the crafting and making of wands," William began to explain generously, and Rion didn't tear her eyes from his own, her ears listening intently to each and every word he spoke.
By the entrance was Boris and Jack, standing with their backs to the wall as they watched with sharp eyes and listened with keen ears to make sure that their wards were okay, and never wandered without express permission.
But, even then, the men were glancing around just like the children with entirely different emotions due to their prior, albeit short, history with this particular establishment.
"Huh. . ." the sound escaped Boris in wonder and surprise. His sky blues were slightly wide as he looked around. "This place hasn't changed that much. Not even a bit."
"Yes," Jack said, his own gaze flickering from shelf to shelf. "It's been a long time since I've been here myself, but it truly hasn't changed."
And then, echoing from somewhere inside the shop, a voice called out, "Give me a moment, dears, and I'll be right with you!"
It sounded distinctly feminine and held a pinch of an accent, sounding so far away that it posed the question of how big the inside truly was despite the exterior being skinny in width.
At the voice, both William and Rion moved from their previous positions in front of the desk toward a long pathway that was devoid of any obstacles in its way with shelves on either side.
The children stood still and looked down the path, as though waiting for something.
Suddenly, and without any forewarning, the figure of a very tall and beautiful woman clacked down the path that was flanked by shelves. She had deep red hair which fell all the way past her waist, a streak of grey going from the roots all the way down to the strands tips situated on the right fringe.
Her body was donned in a periwinkle blouse that was tucked into a pair of black trousers with a set of one inch heels adorning her feet. And her eyes were a unique shade of blue, almost violet if one looked very closely. They twinkled with a youthful shine, like that of childlike wonder despite the woman's true age.
With a smile that could light up an entire room, the woman paused in her trek right in front of William and Rion.
Her eyes took in each of the newcomers, settling first on the children who looked at her silently. The woman's smile widened, escalating into a grin. "Why, hello there, dears!"
"Hi!" was Rion's bright response.
William was more subdued in his greeting. "Good afternoon, ma'am."
Madam Gallagher inched closer, a strong sense of anticipation shining in her eyes. "Can I assume that the two of you are here for your wands? After all. . ."
When she turned her eyes upward to stare at the men who were still standing by the door, both men visibly flinched at the smile she sent their way. Despite the action appearing nice and gentle, the true emotion behind it frightened them.
"If not, that would mean that the two of you are in need of another. . . I greatly hope that is not the case?"
"No, Madam Gallagher," Boris quickly assured, hands coming up as if to either defend himself or physically surrender to quell her sudden fit of anger. "Mr. Renfield and I are just accompanying our wards—nothing more, nothing less."
Silence, and then: "Good! Make sure that is the only time I ever see the both of you in here again."
The men slumped in relief, sighs of the same emotion escaping them in tandem.
Veering her attention back to her customers, Madam Gallagher gave them the grin that she had been brandishing prior. "Now, then, even though Boris has already said my name, allow me to introduce myself proper."
She gave a small, polite bow. "My name is Lennon Gallagher, formally known as Madam Gallagher. My family have been wandmakers for many generations." Her eyes shined. "I simply cannot wait to find out what wands choose you two. . . And since I can't wait, how about we go and find your 'destined ones' right now?"
As Madam Gallagher set about to walk down the path she came from, both William and Rion followed behind, taking quick glances over their shoulders to see the reactions of Jack and Boris.
The men gave the children encouraging smiles.
And thus, began the search for their 'destined ones.'
Heels clacking against the floor was the only sound heard as the trio meandered their way down another path that was about three turns from the one they set off on earlier.
Along the way, many wands were presented to the children, but each one had been an unfortunate failure. William and Rion were undeterred, in fact, their curiosity as to which ones would eventually choose them grew even stronger and more fervent. Rion's twin emeralds shined even brighter than their natural shade, a happy pep in her step as she continued walking beside William.
William was decidedly more subdued, but his own curiosity was certainly piqued. This situation was shrouded in mystery, something that he couldn't possibly predict no matter how many angles he looked at it from. Though, he did have a book on the many wand woods and cores in the world and the notes explaining what each and every one meant and were capable of, to determine which combination would pick him was left up to the fates.
And the same could be said for Rion, as well.
One or two different woods had popped into his mind that could be potentials for her, but it wasn't guaranteed.
Just like Rion, William would have to wait for the final option.
In front of them, Madam Gallagher walked on, determination exuding off her body and deep concentration lining her features.
Despite the failures that had presented themselves in quick succession, the wandmaker wasn't going to let it beat her down. She had witnessed many unsuccessful couplings in the past, and this wasn't going to be the time, or day, that the redhead decided to quit. Of course not, this was her job, her career—her life blood.
Because each and every time that there had been a perfect match between wizard and wand, it brought forth a happy and joyful wave to wash over her, like she had done something good, something useful, something worthwhile. And the madam wasn't going to lie about how interesting it was to find out more about a person based on the type of wand that had chosen them.
Madam Gallagher was so resolute in finding these children their destined ones that she pressed onward, eyes fluttering to each shelf as the tips of her fingers gently trailed along the sides of the boxes, contemplation now showing upon her face.
"Excuse me, Madam Gallagher?"
Said woman turned her head so she was looking over at the owner of the polite voice, unique blue meeting atypical green. "Yes, Miss Winters?"
Rion smiled, almost a bit sheepish. "Can I ask what it was like meeting my parents all those years ago?"
All those years ago. . . It really had been a long time since she last saw those eyes of freshly polished emerald that resembled the lush and vibrant green landscape of the island that neighbored theirs, and ones of a sky shaded blue that appeared to hold the aerial ocean in its depths so vividly and without restraint that one had questioned whether or not some higher power had actually taken the sky and planted it within them.
A soft hum escaped the madam, her steps not ceasing in their pace. "Hm. . . Meeting your parents was like a breath of fresh air."
"A breath of fresh air?" Rion canted her head a tad. "What do you mean?"
"Your parents were different, in a good way," the wandmaker added the last bit quickly. "They weren't like the other children their age. They were mature, intelligent in their own way, and most of all, they were aware of the world and the circumstances within it that caused a rift between those of our world and those of the other world."
The other world. In other words, the Muggle world where those of non-magical capability resided and lived. It was technically their world as well, as the wizarding world was also situated within the same bubble, but it still had its own kind of enclosed space to keep the knowledge of it secret as well as to keep those that wouldn't be able to live in such a place out.
It was rare for Muggles to become aware of the fact that other people who looked like them could perform magic, something only told in children's stories and fairytales, but those who married a wizard were able to be informed of such a world and its fundamentals. Unfortunately, some people who were told weren't always okay with knowing such things and it could very well strain what was once a loving relationship between two people.
Madam Gallagher frowned, distant yet near memories cropping back up in her mind. "I remember when your father first walked in, how happy and yet unhappy he was. As for why that was, I couldn't tell you. I don't make it a habit of prying into the personal lives of my customers; I'd rather worry about finding them their life-long partner who'll, hopefully, stay with them and serve them in the many, many years to come in the way of magic."
Hearing the bit about her father caused Rion's eyes to grow distant, as if she was mentally transported somewhere else entirely. She was silent, uncharacteristically so, and it made William observe her closely.
Suddenly, Madam Gallagher stopped, causing the children to pause in their own trek so they didn't end up bumping into her.
Her eyes were trained on a particularly empty part of one of the shelves, completely devoid of any boxes. Just as suddenly as she had paused in her walking, the wandmaker practically threw her upper body onto the empty space, promptly disappearing from view.
In their simultaneous confusion, William and Rion exchanged a brief glance.
The madam soon reappeared with slightly unkempt hair which was one of the only results garnered from her small trip through the shelf. Now, settled on both of her palms, were two boxes. With a newly ignited shine in her eyes that spoke her strong anticipation, Madam Gallagher thrusted the items in the direction of the children.
They each took one and didn't waste any time opening the lids, taking out the wands and holding them gently with their fingertips. The trio waited, and waited, and waited. . .
Only for nothing to happen.
Once again, William and Rion looked at one another before turning their gazes to Madam Gallagher, who was silent, almost eerily so, as she continued to stare unabashedly at her customers and the wands still cradled in the children's hands.
A neutral frown marred Rion's features, slight disappointment ringing through her voice. "Another bust?"
"It appears so," William supplied, trailing the fingertips of his other hand along the wood, tone not giving away his current state of mind.
After they each gave their own contribution to the situation, the wandmaker spoke, causing the children to instantaneously look over at her again.
"Maybe, perhaps, you dears could. . . switch the wands?"
Her suggestion hung in the air for sometime as William and Rion thought about it. This was a proposition Madam Gallagher hadn't given previously when it came to the others. As soon as the other wands had been failures, the woman had swiftly collected them and then tucked them away back inside the safe, cushiony confines of their respective box.
This was the first time she proposed to switch the wands they had been given.
With nothing left to lose in all honesty, the children turned on their heels so they were facing each other.
Rion's face lit up with her signature smile as she extended the hand that held the wand. "Here you go, Will!"
"Thank you, Rion," William gave a smile of his own. "And here's the other wand."
Rion's smile widened even more, bordering a grin. "Thank you!"
As soon as their fingers touched the other wand, a small white light made its appearance. Both children had an idea as to why the light was there while Madam Gallagher's eyes grew round, also privy to the reason, especially after having witnessed many, many other kids being chosen by their wands.
Warmth exuded from the wood and seeped into the tips of their fingers, spreading all the way up their arms and even down to their legs until it traveled further and began to settle throughout every inch of their bodies.
The light gradually began to glow brighter and brighter until it was too much and the trio had no choice but to close their eyes. It engulfed a large portion of the shop to the point that there was absolutely no chance it could've been missed by anyone else that was currently inside the building.
"By Jove. . ."
The words escaped Boris in a mystified voice, twin blues staring directly at where the huge dome of light had been before it disappeared completely as though it had never been there to begin with.
Jack, too, was taken aback by the sudden bright light. "What on earth was that?"
Utter worry was in Boris's voice as he said, "Do you think the children and the madam are all right?"
"I'm sure they're fine, Mr. Winters. After all, it's quite possible that the light was the result of Master William and Miss Winters finding their wands."
"I hope that's the case. . ."
"Uncle Boris!"
The man in question immediately whipped his head around to stare at the owner of the voice, finding his niece jogging happily down the path that she had ventured on almost ten minutes ago. Behind her, William was walking at a more calm pace and Madam Gallagher held her hands in front of her face, palms resting against each other.
The corners of her mouth were quirked up in a secretive way that didn't go unnoticed by those who had a more discerning eye.
Boris met Rion halfway. "Rion. What happened before? Are you okay? William, Madam Gallagher, are you two all right?"
William smiled, politely and reassuringly. "Yes, Mr. Winters, I'm all right. Thank you for your kind concern."
"Are you absolutely sure? Because if not I can cast a healing charm to—"
A chuckle escaped the older woman, hands lowering from her face as she sent a placating smile in Boris's direction. "Everything's fine, Boris. The light from earlier was because the dears found their wands. Your innate worrying nature is showing quite heavily."
"I can't help it," said Boris, an exasperated sigh leaving him through his nose. He drew his gaze back to Rion. "Are you okay?"
She giggled. "Yes, Uncle, I'm okay, just like Will and Madam Gallagher. And look! This is the wand that chose me!"
Just as his shoulders slumped in great relief, he caught sight of a long wooden stick being brandished in his face. From looks alone, Boris couldn't determine what the proponents were that made up the wand. But, in his mind, as long as there was a wand out there that chose his niece, he found he wasn't really worried about the materials used to create it.
Boris smiled. "That's great, Rion. Now, what are you supposed to do after that?"
There was silence for a brief moment until: "I have to pay for it!"
The words left her in a voice filled with comical realization and it erupted a somewhat loud laugh from her uncle.
After giving Rion her pouch of coins, the girl hurriedly ran to the front desk where Madam Gallagher was currently seated and William was standing, watching her fast approach. Once she had officially arrived, Rion stopped right in front of the desk, waiting for further instructions.
Madam Gallagher told them the amount needed and both children deposited their coins upon the surface. She counted them quickly under her breath as she used her index fingers to draw them closer to her, one coin at a time.
"Thank you for your patronage, dears!" she smiled warmly and gratefully, presenting her customers their wands within the soft, velvety confines of their respective box, topped off with a small neat ribbon to keep the lid from popping off unbidden.
William and Rion also thanked the woman for helping them find their wands.
After each person gave their goodbyes and Boris informed Madam Gallagher that he'd see her the following year, said woman sent a knowing look his way making the man sweat under her stare.
"By the way, Boris. . ." she winked. "You might want to be more discreet when using an object that's been charmed in that way. You never know when those from the Ministry may be around."
Boris blanched, not expecting the redhead to have found out about such an important and (supposed to be) secretive fact. "Right. . . Thank you for the suggestion, Madam Gallagher."
While having a laugh at Boris's expense, Madam Gallagher waved farewell to the quartet, wishing the children and their newly found partners the best.
After becoming apart of the crowd once more, which had decreased in volume significantly from its previous size akin to that of the sea to more of that of a pond, the group sauntered around the rest of the shoppers.
The day had finally reached the beginning of evening, and so, with the fact that their own shopping had been completed, Boris and Rion were ready to set off for home with all the necessities that the latter needed for school. On the contrary, however, William and Jack still needed to stop by one more shop before they too headed back to the Rockwell mansion.
And that shop was the one that sold owls.
Upon hearing this, Boris searched through his trouser pockets, soon pulling out Rion's attendance letter. "That reminds me, Rion, we should get you an owl, too, that way you'll be able to send us letters whenever you're able."
Rion was very, very close to going along with her uncle just so she could spend more time by William's side, but decided that, instead of allowing Boris to buy her an owl she didn't want, she should let him be aware of her original intention right then and there.
Rion made a disappointed noise as she pivoted on her heel so she was walking backwards while facing her uncle. "Aw, Uncle, I was hoping to bring Sonata along when I go to Hogwarts."
"I don't think you can. . . Doesn't it say that only owls are approved?"
"No," said Rion, pointing at a particular spot on the paper. "It says right here: 'students may also bring an owl or a cat or a toad.'"
Boris's eyes followed her finger, eyes wide upon seeing the words. "That's right. . . that's right, it does."
"And you went to Hogwarts, Uncle. How come you forgot about that?"
"Well, it has been a long time since I attended, Rion. An old man like myself tends to forget some things, you know?"
"But you're not old, you're still quite young in wizard years."
"The mind is different from the body, Rion."
She tilted her head, much like that of a confused dog, brows furrowed. "Are you saying your mind is old, Uncle Boris?"
His voice was half-playful and half-serious as he replied, "Well, it certainly doesn't seem to be getting younger here recently."
As Boris and Rion appeared to banter back and forth about the former's mental state and its capacity for memory, William and Jack listened and watched silently, amused by the conversation and at how easily the other two bounced off of each other with no trouble.
Once they were finished, Rion flicked her eyes over to William. "I guess this is where we'll part ways, huh?"
No one missed the sadness that permeated the tone of her voice, and William instantaneously gave her an assuring smile. "Yeah. But, I'm sure we'll see each other again since we'll be attending the same school."
"That's true," Rion smiled. Her eyes then brightened significantly. "Maybe we'll meet again on the Hogwarts Express!"
William's smile remained. "Perhaps. And, in the meantime, I'll be anticipating the moment we do meet again."
The girl's smile shifted into a blinding grin, happiness swelling in her heart. "And I will, too!"
Walking toward a more empty area of the alley, Boris held out his hand for Rion to take, said girl grasping it firmly with one of her own. However, just before Boris could apparate the both of them home, Rion quickly let go, meandering her way back over to where Jack and William currently stood not too far away.
And just like previously, a silent conversation went on without Boris's knowledge. It wasn't long before Rion made her way back over to her uncle, loudly giving goodbyes to the other two and wishing them a safe trip home.
Boris called her name and she immediately glanced over, grabbing his still outstretched hand again that was hovering in mid-air where she had left it.
And then, with their adventure at Diagon Alley officially over, Boris and Rion finally apparated away and back to the mansion.
Ending Theme: Aloysius by Cocteau Twins.
Fun Fact: Rion's name is said to be pronounced as REE-un (among some others), but I have been pronouncing it with the last syllable being a double 'o' sound, like 'moon' for example.
A/N: And that concludes the first chapter! Weird way to leave it off, but I couldn't think or imagine any other way to do it, so I apologize, truly. Anyway, I'll be back with another chapter eventually (which might actually be soon as the second chapter is close to being finished as I speak). The next one will have William and Rion going to Hogwarts and then attending the Sorting Ceremony, so that's something to look forward to, huh?
Hope you have a wonderful day whenever you ended up reading this and getting to this point. I wish that all of your days are wonderful from here on out. Bye, and see you later maybe!