'Oak? Maybe cedar? I hope it isn't bamboo…' ruminated the bespectacled boy as he stared up at the shop's sign from just before the threshold, letter from Hogwarts in his right hand and a trunk of goods in his left..
Ollivanders was the shop's golden name engraved into a semi-circle of wood just above its aged wooden door. A peek into the dusty store windows revealed an innocent looking store for the most part. A simple unmanned counter stood by its lonesome in front an imposingly large quantity of drawers, neatly arranged in rows but messily decorated with envelopes and papers strewn about floor and furnishing. Various notices and wax stamped letters were nailed to certain drawers for some reason. One door was located behind the counter, with a sign on it that read Ollivander's Office.
Harry breathed a big sigh and took a breath of courage before pushing in the door to Ollivanders,, heaving his trunk in as well.
Clink-clink!
The door chime rang, signaling Harry's entrance and drawing his attention to it with a gasp. His nerves were already on edge thinking about his wand. The sudden spook from the chime didn't help. Harry collected himself and swallowed some nervous saliva before getting shocked again.
"Harry!" a voice called from behind the counter.
"Mr. Ollivander! You gave me a scare!" Harry exclaimed, brandishing his Hogwarts letter threateningly in hand.
Ollivander gave a hearty chuckle, "My apologies Harry. Some opportunities are too good to pass up."
He spread his arms in a welcoming manner, "So, finally received your letter eh, Harry? You've come to just the right place!"
Harry looked at him with half lidded eyes and a sarcastic smile, "This is the only place I could come to…"
Ollivander smirked, "You could try your luck with a Zonko wand."
"I'd prefer to come back from Hogwarts in one piece thank you very much. Ms. Giselle says spells backfiring have big consequences," Harry replied as he dragged his trunk up towards the counter.
"If you did bring one of those prankster's toys in for class, I'd reckon Minerva would blast you to pieces before the wand could," Ollivander said. He looked at the boy from head to toe and shook his head slightly, "I wouldn't worry about your wand too much Harry. You looked like a newt in a witch's kitchen before comin' in."
Harry sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, "I can't help it Mr. Ollivander. Ever since I got my letter, Bellatrix has been teasing me about what kind of wand I'd get… She told me if I get a bamboo one I could kiss my chances of graduating goodbye."
Ollivander looked at Harry with a raised eyebrow and amused grin, "Harry… No Ollivander wands are made of bamboo."
Harry whipped his head up to look at Ollivander's with wide eyes. Ollivander burst into laughter.
"Oh Harry! Most bamboo hasn't aged enough to handle high level magic…" Ollivander paused to wipe a faux tear from his eye.
Harry felt his face rapidly heat up. He sputtered with a tomato red complexion, "Wha- So- That means- Bellatrix!"
Ollivander placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, "She got you good lad…"
Harry wanted to throw his letter onto the ground in frustration but it was too precious of an item to him. He settled on giving a light kick to his trunk.
"So what kind of wood will my wand be made of? Do I get to choose?" Harry asked.
Ollivander shook his head, "No. Never. The wizard never chooses the wand. The wand chooses the wizard."
His gaze went skyward to ponder. A hand massaged his chin as he looked to be in deep thought.
Harry looked confused, "Mr. Olliv-"
Ollivander held a finger up to Harry, and he stopped mid sentence.
"This might suit you!" Ollivander exclaimed before dashing off to one of the many drawers. He hopped up onto a ladder which levitated itself to the appropriate shelf.
Harry looked on as the grey haired man in a white shirt, beige vest and brown pants frantically dug through a drawer at the top of the shelves. His wrinkled face was undeniably old, but gleefully lively as he searched for the right wand.
He pulled out drawer after drawer while standing at the top of his ladder. Open. Check. Slam. Repeat. He picked up a few gnarled wands at times, pausing to take a scrunitising look at the wood instruments before stuffing them back into the drawer and continuing his hunt for a wand.
"Aha!" Ollivander cried out. He stood triumphantly at the top of his ladder, a wand in between his index finger and thumb.
He clambered down the rickety ladder and rushed over to Harry, "Try this one boy! I have a feeling it might be just your style! Eleven inches; Cedar; Unicorn hair!"
Harry slowly reached out to pick the wand out of Ollivander's fingers. He gulped, "Thanks Mr. Ollivander… What should I do exactly?"
"Well, if you've got the right wand, there should be an immediate feeling of 'connection' as they say… Then just try moving the wand around!" Ollivander gestured encouragingly to Harry to try.
Harry furrowed his brows as he grabbed his wand, mentally trying to seek out the connection between wand and wizard. There was something. It was faint. Like trying to grab a cloud. He gave a wave with the wand and the wand sputtered a few multi coloured sparks but something just did not sit right with Harry.
Harry frowned, "I- I don't think I felt much of a connection Mr. Ollivander…"
Ollivander crooked his mouth into a half frown, "Hmm…"
He snatched up the mismatched wand and dashed over to his collection once more. Some amount of fumbling later, he came rushing back to Harry with another wand in hand.
"Twelve inches; Apple; Dragon heartstring!"
Harry steeled himself with some determination and grabbed the wand.
Skreeee!
The wand let out a sharp and loud shriek. The magical equivalent of nails on a chalkboard, turned up to eleven in volume. Harry tossed it away as he clutched his ringing ears.
"Still not a good match?" Ollivander picked up the noisy wand and rubbed his chin. He gave Harry another look over before narrowing his eyes with a decision. He departed for his drawers.
Harry was about to lose hope at this point. It seemed like the wands in Ollivander's didn't quite match with him very well.
'Maybe I'm really not cut out for this whole magic thing…'
He spotted Garrick Ollivander walking towards him with another wand in hand. His soul stirred as he eyed the handsome wand. The intricacies and details of the wand suddenly seemed all the more obvious. He could appreciate the sleek craftsmanship of the wand. Every notch, nook and cranny served its purpose. He knew it. And by the smug look on Ollivander's face, he knew it too. That was about to be his very own wand.
"Eleven inches; Holly; Phoenix feather…" Ollivander lifted the wand out of its box and passed it to Harry.
Harry gingerly accepted it, feeling a definitive connection as soon as he touched it. A shiver ran down his spine and the goosebumps raised as he felt the wand in his hands.
"Give it a-" Ollivander was cut off when Harry swiped in the air with his wand, and a string of tiny fireworks followed the swipe. Vibrant colours banged and sparkled in the air, following the crescent of the wand.
Ollivander smiled brightly, "Congratulations Harry. You've found your wand."
Harry grinned ear to ear as he looked to Ollivander with wand in hand, "Thank you so much Mr. Ollivander!"
"That's a special combination right there. Holly and Phoenix feather are both rare components. A combination, rarer so," Ollivander quipped.
"Why is that so?" Harry asked curiously.
"Phoenix's are stubborn creatures… Independent and detached from this world for the most part. It's the most untamable of creatures. Phoenix feather cores are very picky about who they pick." Ollivander explained.
Harry looked at his wand with a new sense of appreciation that it chose him of all people. He turned to look at Ollivander after processing what he said, "Mr. Ollivander, if it's that rare then you mustn't sell that many phoenix feather wands do you?"
Ollivander pondered the question for a while, "No… No I suppose not. Unicorn hair is by far the most sold core type. But the owners of the past few phoenix feather wands I've sold have all achieved great things in their lives you know?"
"Really? Like who?" Harry quizzed the old wandmaker.
"Well… There's Barnabus Wildflower who discovered five new methods of mandrake pollination as his graduating project… Graynard Avery who became the fastest student in the past two decades to get first place in Gringotts' curse breaking challenge… Oh! And the wizard holding onto your brother wand, Tom Riddle! I heard he graduated Hogwarts with a perfect score in every subject. From what I know, he's involved in preserving magical artifacts currently."
Harry tilted his head slightly, "Brother wand?"
"Ah, brother wands just mean their cores came from the same creature. The phoenix who gave the feather for your core, gave only one other feather too, which sits inside Tom's wand. He was such a polite boy… Perhaps you'll end up meeting him one day! Do pass on my regards to him when you do, will you?" Ollivander said while collecting the few Galleons from Harry.
Harry nodded, "Will do Mr. Ollivander… Do you think I could be like them one day?"
"Well, why not Harry? It's really all up to you on what you'd like to achieve," Ollivander advised, "You're a bright young boy Harry, and very hard working too. I think as long as you want to achieve something and you put your best effort into it, you'll get there eventually."
Harry shyly smiled at the praise, "Even being a world famous quidditch player?"
"Quidditch player, future professor, curse breaker, minister, you name it. I think you have a fair shot at being anything you'd like! But if it's quidditch you're aimin' for, might I suggest you eat more than your fair share of stew back at Tom's? You'll get bumped off your broom faster than a snitch with your build," Ollivander suggested with a wry smile.
Harry gave a light smile in response, "I'll make it work somehow Mr. Ollivander, don't you worry."
'Let's see here… check! Check! Check! All that's left is a potion cauldron…' Harry absent mindedly recounted as he looked down at his list. The cast iron pot was all he needed now. His school supplies were being lugged along in the enchanted trunk he carried.
"Oof!"
"Ow!"
Harry fixed his glasses back onto his face, noticing a bit of a bend in one of the arms. He must have bumped into someone while staring down at his list.
"Ah- I'm so sorry!" he got up and brushed off his hands before offering it to the girl in front of him.
She was dressed in simple maroon robes with a white undershirt. Harry spotted a similar looking trunk to his beside her. She was rubbing her forehead with tears welling up in her brown eyes, evidently that had been where they collided. The hand seemed to disappear beneath her curly blonde hair as she groaned in pain as she massaged the soon-to-be bruise. She spotted Harry's outstretched hand through a translucent veil of tears and accepted it. She got yanked up to her feet by Harry. He'd seen her around Diagon Alley occasionally but never got to know her.
"T-thanks… I'm sorry I must not have been paying attention…" she apologised softly.
"No, no, it's my fault. I was looking at my list, didn't see you there," Harry replied, bending down to pick up her trunk and offer her the handle.
"Thank you. I'm guessing you're shopping for Hogwarts stuff too?" the girl asked hopefully.
Harry tilted his head, "Yes, I'm just finishing up actually. I've only got my cauldron left to buy. Are you entering this year too?"
The girl smiled and stuck out a hand for a handshake, "Quite right I am! Melissa Newblight! Nice to meet you…"
Harry was quick to shake it, "Harry, Harry Potter."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance! I've heard your name from some of the shops before, you're Tom's helper right? I've seen you around the market sometimes," she shook it firmly as Harry nodded, "As for a cauldron, you're in luck. My mum sells them! Her shop's just down the street, second right. But it's uh…"
"It's?" Harry asked with a raised brow.
Melissa grimaced as she pulled Harry into a whisper, "It's in Knockturn Alley…"
"Ah," realisation dawned on Harry. That would explain why he didn't know about this mysterious shop. Mr. Tom had warned him against going into Knockturn Alley. He told him mostly unsavoury types frequented the shops there. 'Legal, but barely,' was the descriptor he used.
"Well… If your mum makes good cauldrons, I think a small detour wouldn't hurt would it?" Harry sheepishly replied, swallowing a small wad of saliva. He wouldn't want Melissa to feel judged by something like this, not when he was on the receiving end of similar things.
Melissa looked at Harry with a suspecting pout, "You don't have to pity us you know."
Harry held his hands up, "I mean it, honest. I wouldn't know where to get my cauldron from anyway."
Melissa let him off with a sturdy nod, "Well, if you're sure. It's called Madam Elizabeth's Potion Products. Tell mum you're friends with me, she'll give you a decent discount!"
Harry grinned, "Sure thing, thanks Melissa!"
"Oh! I don't suppose you'd know if there's any secret wand shop tucked away somewhere, other than Ollivanders? Mum always spoke highly of Gregorovitch but his shop's in Berlin and she never liked Ollivanders…" Melissa sighed, holding up her Hogwarts list with all of the items crossed out except for 'Wand'.
"Ollivanders is your best bet though, probably your only bet actually… I've never seen anyone else selling wands in Diagon Alley," Harry recommended, pointing forward.
Melissa had a hesitant look on her face, "Yeah I figured as much… Mum never liked Ollivander wands though…"
Harry archived that interesting tidbit of information into a separate compartment in his brain, "Don't think there's all that much of a choice here."
He could see the inner dilemma plain on her face. She sighed heavily, "I guess it'll be a wand from Ollivanders."
"Just out of curiosity, but why doesn't your mum like Ollivanders?" asked Harry.
"She says she doesn't like the cores. Ollivanders only has three cores so mum finds them limited," explained Melissa.
"There's more than three?"
"Yup! Gregorovitch sells about ten different types. Mum is very proud of her thunderbird beak wand!" Melissa said.
"Well… I like mine…" Harry defensively clutched the wand in his robe pocket.
Melissa giggled, "I'm sure Ollivander wands are great too, I'll be getting one too it seems."
"You can let me know what Mr. Ollivander fits you with if I see you in school," said Harry.
"I'm sure I'll see you around. What house do you think you'll be in?" Melissa asked.
"Why is everyone so obsessed with houses… Arthur… Bellatrix… Sirius…" grumbled Harry under his breath.
"Harry?" Melissa inquired, seeing the boy fuming under his breath.
"Oh! Uh- I'm not sure actually… I guess I'll just see how it goes?" Harry answered non-committedly.
She laughed, "I'm doing the same actually. Mum did say Gryffindor would be a good house to be in though. According to her, Albus Dumbledore has a preference for Gryffindors."
"I've heard he's a pretty great wizard," Harry commented.
"Pretty great? He's the greatest!" Melissa exclaimed excitedly.
"That's what Ms. Giselle always says…"
"Well it's true. He beat Grindelwald and his acolytes and locked them up forever! I can't wait for his classes," she said.
"I can't wait for flying lessons if I'm being honest…" Harry responded.
Melissa's eyes sparkled at the mention, "Really? I can hardly wait for it either! I hope I can join a quidditch team…"
"You like quidditch?" Harry asked in a confused manner, "Don't… Don't girls usually dislike quidditch?"
Melissa laughed, "Not me! I've loved it ever since I saw my first game of it. I want to be a beater actually."
Harry looked her up and down, "Don't beaters have a bit more brawn to them?"
She scoffed and crossed her arms, "Like you're one to talk! What position are you aimin' for?"
Harry cowed his head a little, "I'm not sure yet actually. People have told me I'd be suited for chaser."
"You're certainly not built to be a goalkeeper, I'll tell you that much. It'd be like blocking a manhole with a broom handle," Melissa teased.
"I'd love to see you hit any bludgers more than a foot away from you…" Harry bit back.
The pair chuckled, before Melissa realised she'd been talking for longer than expected.
"Sorry Harry, I've got to get to Ollivanders before he goes for lunch. It was nice meeting you! I hope I see you in school!" Melissa bid her farewells.
Harry waved her goodbye, "Thanks for recommending your mum's shop by the way! See you around school Melissa!"
Knockturn alley was a grimy place at the best of times. A hidden alcove in the shadows of Diagon Alley for the demographic that preferred to have less light, and therefore fewer eyes, on their activities. Shops of dubious ethics pockmarked the sparsely populated streets. Relics of unverifiable authenticity hung in shop windows, a faint shimmer of magic on the glass warned wary passers-by and opportunistic looters of the consequences of tampering.
Harry gulped as he stood in front of one such shop. A simple plaque hung by the door, embossed in it was the name "Madam Elizabeth's Potion Products". He breathed a sigh and shook off any jitters from being somewhere Mr. Tom had consistently advised against him wandering in, and pushed the oak door open.
The door chime rang as he stepped foot into the shop. A floral scent hung in the air, punctuated at times by a whiff of something foul. Purple carpets with yellow accents lined the floor, or at least, what could be seen of it. Much of the shop was haphazardly filled with its merchandise. Harry spotted a few stacked cauldrons, each as big as a kitchen table, sitting by the side of chipped and cracked countertop. Empty glass jars were strewn about, coming in different sizes and colours. The stop could be described almost as one long corridor, with shelves on either side lined with various plants and animal life - living and dead. Harry spotted a small jar filled with beetles, and next to that was a potted plant with a skull-and-bones drawn on its pot.
"Welcome dear! I'll be right with you, what ingredients are you looking for today? We've got a special on N- Ah?" A woman had come out of a room behind the counter, holding on to a box. She paused when she took in the sight of Harry.
"You're a bit young aren't you?" the lady asked.
She had blonde hair tied into a messy ponytail. Thick glasses framed her face, and behind those lay a set of hazel brown eyes. She had a round face with a few occasional wrinkles, a welcoming visage fit for a shopkeeper. Traces of Melissa's features were present on this woman's face as well. She was dressed simply with a khaki apron layered on top of her gray calf length dress.
"I'm here to buy a cauldron for school… Melissa told me to come here, she said her mother sold them?" Harry offered a quick explanation of how he'd come across her store.
"Oh! You're a friend of Melissa? No problem dear, I have just the right cauldron for Hogwarts' curriculum!" she exclaimed before darting back to the room behind the counter. Harry could hear clinks and clangs as she probably dug through a stash of cauldrons to find one suitable for a student. He did notice she had a slight accent, barely noticable but present still.
"Aha!" he heard her call out as she walked out of the room with a small cast iron pot in hand, "You're a first year like Melissa yeah?"
Harry nodded, "Yes Ma'am, I'll be entering this year."
"Ah, school is a wonderful time," she shook her head as she reminisced about her own school days.
"Were you in Hogwarts as well Ma'am?" Harry asked.
"Oh! No, no, I was in a different school. I only moved to Britain after I met my husband," she took on a somber expression, barely disguised by a pleasant smile.
Harry didn't need to be told explicitly what had happened. He itched to move the conversation somewhere else, "It's a very nice shop you have here Ma'am. It's very… cosy."
"I'm too old for flattery Mr…?" she trailed off the question.
"Potter. Harry Potter. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Newblight?" Harry figured she'd have the same last name as Melissa.
She nodded, "Pleased to meet you too Harry."
Harry suddenly remembered what Mr. Tom always said to guests that were on the older side, the ladies particularly seemed to like it when Mr. Tom said it so he figured he'd say something of the sorts. "U-um, You can't be too old… I thought you were Melissa's sister at first…"
He cringed internally. He couldn't remember what Mr. Tom told the guests but he figured it was something along these lines.
Elizabeth seemed to find it hilarious though. She laughed heartily, "What a sweet young thing you are! Who taught you that?"
Harry's cheeks turned rosy, "Mr. Tom…"
"From the Leaky Cauldron?" she asked.
"Yup!" Harry answered enthusiatiscially, "Do you know him?"
Elizabeth shook her head negative, "I've been once or twice, but I'm not a big fan of pubs."
She turned back to pull a worn and tattered book out of a shelf, sliding it gently into the cauldron she was meant to sell to Harry, "For being such a sweetheart, I'll toss this in too. It's a potions recipe book, with a bit more detail than your textbooks. It should help!"
"Oh wow! Thanks Mrs. Newblight!" Harry received the cauldron and book excitedly, "How much for the cauldron?"
Mrs. Newblight smiled, "I'll give you the cauldron for free on one condition."
Harry raised a brow, "Which is?"
She smiled gently, "I want you to be good friends with Melissa."
Harry gave a firm nod, "We're already talking about quidditch, don't you worry Mrs. Newblight!"
"Oh not another one…" she placed her hand on her forehead and rubbed her eyebrows, "All she ever talks about these days is quidditch… Just like her father used to…"
"I… I'm sure we'll talk about potions too…?" Harry offered, not believing it in the slightest himself.
Elizabeth faked an exasperated sigh, "I'm sure you two will…"
The pair chuckled a bit before Harry prepared to leave, "Thanks again for the cauldron Mrs. Newblight!"
"My pleasure Harry! Don't hesitate to drop by if you need any potion ingredients. Oh! And do be careful! Werewolf attacks are on the rise!" she called out as Harry was stepping over the threshold, waving an animated newspaper in her hands.
"Harry! Over here!" he heard a voice call out to him in the bustling train platform.
He swept his gaze over the crowd, eager to find Arthur. They agreed to meet at Platform 9 ¾ but never quite specified where. Mr. Tom had taken an afternoon off to escort Harry to Platform 9 ¾ so he could catch his train to Hogwarts. Admittedly, Harry was incredibly grateful for Mr. Tom's help. If anything other than an official letter from Hogwarts had asked him to be present at platform 9 ¾ he'd call whatever institution that sent it a loony bin. As it stands, his school of magic had expressly requested for travel to the prestigious location via train from this very platform. A platform which he had no idea how to access until now.
Running face first into a concrete pillar is counter-intuitive to the human instinct to say the least. So, Harry was understandably hesitant when Tom loaded up his enchanted trunk and bird cage onto the cart and told him to go full speed ahead at the column separating platforms nine and ten. His fears only mildly alleviated when Tom demonstrated the apparent safety by first phasing into the concrete and out.
He finally spotted Arthur amidst the throng of robed students and sharply dressed parents. He had a firm grip on his trunk standing at hip height. He excitedly waved at Harry, beckoning him to go over. Harry spotted Cedrella Weasley standing next to another boy with black hair but similar features to Arthur. A red-haired man, dressed in a navy shirt and grey trousers with a matching vest stood slightly further away than them. A patchy mustache graced his upper lip while his hair was combed into a neat side part. He looked to be in a whispering conversation with a teen, signature red hair of Arthur's family but with features that looked strikingly similar to Cedrella Weasley.
"I found him Mr. Tom. Over there," Harry pointed as he nudged Tom towards the Weasley family.
"Tom! How have you been?" the Weasley patriach called out as they neared, offering a hand to shake.
"I've been well Septimus. I pray it's been the same for you?" Tom greeted as he shook Septimus' hand.
"As good as ever. And how are you, young man? Excited for Hogwarts? Merlin knows I was. Couldn't sleep the night before my first day!" Septimus clapped a friendly hand on Harry's shoulder as he chuckled.
"Greg cried when he got on the train the first time…" Arthur whispered in Harry's ear.
"I did not!" the black haired teen exclaimed.
Cedrella shook her head, "Do be a dear and make sure Arthur does his homework will you Harry? Seeing as I can't trust his own brothers to do that job…"
Harry laughed, "I'll be sure to, Mrs. Weasley."
Arthur clicked his tongue, "Like as if Harry's gonna do his homework either…"
"You'd both better be doin' your homework! Education's serious business. Don't put a bad reputation on the name of Hogwarts!" Tom chided.
"As if the name 'Hogwarts' didn't do that already…" the taller teen with red hair spoke up this time.
Septimus looked askance at Charlie, "I thought you were proud to be a Hogwarts student? Only the brightest and best graduate from Hogwarts!"
"The only thing Charlie is ever proud of is his quidditch win streak…" Greg commented.
"House champions four years in a row! I'd say that's a more remarkable achievement than how many flobberworms you managed to feed Professor Kettleburn's monster of the week," Charlie argued back.
"Harry and I'll beat your record Charlie!" Arthur proclaimed as he slung an arm around Harry's shoulders, "We'll be house champions for all seven years! And Junior Champions too!"
Harry leaned in slightly, "Junior Champions?"
"Winners of the Junior Quidditch Championship. Every magic school around the world sends a team to compete. Happens every year, but Hogwarts hasn't made it past the qualifying rounds in a couple decades…" Charlie admitted with a strain on his pride.
"It's that tough?" Harry wondered aloud.
Septimus and Tom both gave stern nods.
"Those South American teams usually thrash the competition. Just in Europe alone we have some strong rivals. Just like the World Cup…" Tom commented bitterly.
"We were so close to the finals in '47 but those cursed French cheated their way through! We'd have beaten Brazil with our line up that year I tell you!" Septimus angrily recounted.
"More like England fouled them into a loss…" Cedrella tiredly interjected.
"Bah! Nonsense! That Lusignan fellow pulled Ebenfield's shirt first! I witnessed it first hand!" Tom now angrily gestured with a shaking fist, "Coward's got the gall to say Ebenfield collided into him too! Blasted referee must have been paid off, gave the French a penalty!"
Harry looked to Arthur as Septimus and Tom continued their tirade of the Quidditch World Cup semi-final that didn't quite go as planned, with Charlie and Gregory occasionally tossing in a few comments too, as Cedrella seemed to play devil's advocate for the French in this discussion.
Arthur turned to Harry, "Not meeting Bellatrix here?"
Harry shook his head, "We agreed to find each other on the train later. She says her family is usually very private about these things."
"Shame. Would have been nice to have our little group together as we board it for the first time," Arthur pouted.
"At least the journey will be together… Were you serious about becoming quidditch house champions for seven years in a row?" Harry asked.
Arthur blushed as he rubbed his neck, "Ah… Well… It might be a tad difficult…"
Harry sighed, "Arthur…"
"They don't usually take first years onto the team. Charlie's only got four wins because he joined the team in his second year. And even then that was considered to be early. They say he might be Hogwarts' best beater in a century," Arthur exposited.
"So we're supposed to get seven wins by being held back from graduating for two years then?" Harry asked sarcastically.
"Hey! Maybe two members in the team get struck by lightning?" Arthur hopelessly said.
"And somehow we're going to be the ones chosen?"
"Fair point…" Arthur conceded.
"Although… Now that you mention it, I'm interested in the Junior Championships…" Harry abashedly admitted.
"That's worse. You'd have to make the all-star team with the other star players from the different houses, and then actually beat the competition," Arthur replied.
"Are the other schools really that much better than us?"
"Nah, Hogwarts is arguably just as good or better than most of the other European schools according to Charlie. It's just our teamwork that's nearly zero."
"How could it be that bad?" Harry asked, shocked.
"Hogwarts' houses are a lot more competitive with each other than most other schools I think… Dad says the Gryffindor and Slytherin rivalry extends for as long as the school's been around. Apparently that's what makes us 'unique'," Arthur shared.
They were broken out of their conversation by a high pitched horn. The train was ready to board it seemed.
"Alright boys! Time to get on!" Septimus had started to push the cart of trunks over to the train.
"Be good all of you. If I hear any complaints from your teachers about misbehaving in class I'll ground you from quidditch until the next semester!" Cedrella Weasley warned.
"Love you too mum…" Arthur grumbled as he lugged his trunk on. He looked back and waved to Harry, "See you inside Harry!"
"Go on ahead!" Harry called out as he took out the trunk and Hedwig's cage from the cart Tom was pushing. Hedwig gave a grateful hoot.
"Like she said, you be good now Harry. Listen to your teachers, don't get in trouble, and have a good time ya hear?" Tom ruffled Harry's hair slightly as he gave a good natured smile to see the boy off.
Harry smiled, and dashed into Tom for a tight hug around his waist which Tom returned.
"Thanks for everything Mr. Tom. I'm grateful for everything. Please stop trying to take the tray out the oven without proper mitts. Your apron doesn't count as finger protection! And please tell Ms. Giselle to take care of her back. I'll write often! Keep an eye out for Hedwig okay?" Harry released the hug and looked to Tom with a toothy smile.
Tom swallowed slightly and laughed, "Since when did you become such a responsible young man? Feels just like yesterday you snuck off and got lost in the Muggle World, ha!"
The train let loose another round of its horn.
"Ah, better get goin' Harry. Let me help you with this, you hold onto Hedwig!" Tom carried Harry's trunk up while Harry boarded with Hedwig in the cage.
"Thanks Mr. Tom!" Harry called out before he got slowly swarmed further into the train by the sea of students making their way in.
Tom watched with a mixed bag of emotions as the train let loose its final horn, and the wheels started sputtering to life.
The train moved slowly at first, but rapidly picked up speed. Soon, the last carriage of the shiny red behemoth had left the station. On its way to an undisclosed region. To Hogwarts. Pride of British magical education.
Tom pulled a beige handkerchief from his coat pocket and dabbed at his eyes lightly. He felt a hand lay itself on his shoulder as he spotted Septimus out of the corner of his eye.
"It sure is dusty when the train leaves isn't it?" Tom commented with a small chuckle.
Septimus nodded with a gentle smile, "Don't worry, it gets better. It was pretty dusty when I sent Charlie off for the first time too."
[A/N] Hello everyone. I apologise for the long delay for the chapter. I've been caught up with military duties and a paper I'm writing so most of my time's been on that, and I didn't want to rush out a chapter for the sake of it so I've delayed it. Expect the uploading frequency to drop until about June-ish, when I suspect I'll have more freedom for leisure writing. Thank you all for sticking with this story. I hope you enjoy this chapter.