Children of the Gods

by inwardtransience

When the message came, there was little left of Cassiopeia Black in her — soon she would move on, shed her face and her name for another. But, at the last possible moment, she found a reason to carry on, the smouldering embers of her identity sparking to new life. Unfortunately, adopting the Boy Who Lived came with complications. (metamorphs, fairies, AU and very weird)

34. Violet Potter — II

Getting school supplies for Hogwarts was a little different than craft school at an Ollscoil. For one thing, you actually had to buy books — an Ollscoil printed all their own books for craft school, and gave them to all the students for free (really paid for with their tuition), but classes at Hogwarts just told you which books to buy. Mum said that some of them were only printed in the first place because Hogwarts, and sometimes Saint Frideswith's Academy in Oxford, wanted to use them for classes, but every student still had to go and buy them themselves. Also, at an Ollscoil you could go wearing pretty much whatever you wanted, as long as it was appropriate — not just in craft school, that was the same at the academy level too — but Hogwarts had a uniform, which you had to go out and buy. You needed to get your own potions stuff too — Mum said that in classes they'd use the school's ingredients, but they needed their own cauldrons and utensils and glassware and stuff — and in later years there were more things you might need, like enchanting stuff and whatever.

And you couldn't just go wherever to buy your things — to get your school supplies for Hogwarts, you basically had to go to London. You could get the books anywhere they were sold, or make an order by owl, but there was a shop in London that always carried all the books Hogwarts students needed, so it was the most convenient place to go. You could get your uniform anywhere, but there was a specific shop that was sent all the up-to-date designs, and hired extra people to help with the workload to prepare every year, so it was always the best place to go. The apothecary on the same street also made prepackaged sets with all the things Potions students in each year would need at Hogwarts (and also Frideswith's), so that was just the easiest thing to do.

Stores having everything you need right on the same street was convenient, for people who lived nearby, or for the muggleborns. (There was a special day when someone from the school brought all the muggleborns to get their things together.) It was rather less convenient when you lived in Ireland.

Violet had hardly even been to Charing at all? There were a bunch of little magical neighbourhoods hidden in London, but the two biggest and most important were called Old Town and Charing. She had been through Old Town plenty of times — that was where the Ministry offices were, and also the keyport, sometimes when they were travelling they left and returned from there. Charing was a totally separate place, like a kilometre or two west. It used to be that Old Town was in London proper, and Charing was a separate town nearby, but then London grew and grew and grew, until all those other little towns and villages got swallowed up. There used to be a muggle village called Charing too, but it didn't exist anymore, absorbed by, like, Westminster or something — the name stuck on the magical side of the town, though.

When Mum first took Violet, she was living in a flat in Charing, but she honestly didn't even remember it. She didn't spend a single night there — they went and found their house that same day, stayed at a hotel in Dublin for a couple days until they could move in. They went to shops and stuff there a few times — not on the main street, mostly, a few streets down instead — but it really wasn't very often. When they needed to buy things, they just got them right here in the Refuge, or sometimes as far as Edinburgh. There usually wasn't any reason to go to London.

But you almost needed to get Hogwarts school supplies in Charing, so today they were going to London.

(It wasn't until Mum was talking about the shopping trip that Violet suddenly realised how little time she spent in England these days. Like, none, really, she'd been living in Ireland for years now...)

Scheduling a time to go do her school shopping was a little bit complicated. They were busy lately, with the stuff around Violet's birthday and meeting Rita and Mum doing a duelling thing and Muime's family. And they wanted to do it with Dora, because she wanted to do the nice big cousin thing and this was going to be her last year at Hogwarts (so it was the only chance they had to do things together), and she was doing a special summer programme thing for people trying to go into the Aurors, so she was also busy. Mum was worried that they wouldn't be able to find a time for it before the muggleborn shopping trip — if they didn't make it they'd need to wait for a few days, for people to restock their shops, and by then they'd be getting pretty close to the start of term — but eventually they managed to find a day everyone could make it to. Everyone but Muime and Aunt Andi anyway, they were both doing work things instead.

Muime was making table tennis sets! To sell to people, with a net and the paddles and a few balls, so they could set it up on a table at home. They practised with her test things — the balls were the same as before, but the paddles Muime made herself this time — and they worked pretty well! It was so cool that Muime could just make things, alchemy was cool. Anyway, Muime was going down to the lab at the guildhouse to work on that, where they had big alchemy stuff so she could make lots of things at once, so she wouldn't be coming with.

After having breakfast together like normal, Muime left, and Violet and Mum had to get ready — or mostly just Violet, since Mum basically only needed to put shoes on. (Mum almost always woke up super early.) They would be going to a seamster's to get fitted for the uniform, so Mum reminded her to dress in something that was at least a little easy to get in and out of, so they didn't waste extra time there. She also reminded Violet to wear pants, and probably a vest or a slip or something, which, she knew that, come on, she wasn't stupid...

Violet just picked a normal dress, red with pretty little green and blue flowers stitched into it, which would be fine. She skipped some of the extra stuff she might wear normally, like bracelets and stuff, not sure if they'd get in the way or not. Last night she already emptied out her art bag, to carry stuff in — not the nice one Lord Arcturus gave her, she was worried it was too Potter-ish — skipped on down the stairs, and slipped on a pair of sandals. And there, she was ready.

She was ready a little bit early, but that was fine, she just puttered around the garden poking at the plants while she waited, pulled a few weeds...

When the time came, Mum apparated her straight from their front garden to a back alley or something somewhere. It was a tiny little brick courtyard, a row of casks against one side, a few big rubbish bins over there. Still holding on to her hand, Mum led her through the only door into a dim, somewhat sad, ancient-looking pub. Like, Violet saw this same yellowed, crumbly plaster and wooden crossbeams and stuff in a lot of really old buildings in magical neighbourhoods, this place must have been here forever. (That was a late mediaeval times thing, she thought?) There were people around, dressed in colourful robes and jackets and stuff, chattering over drinks. It was also smokey in here, there were some people puffing away at pipes — Violet clamped a hand over her mouth and nose, but then relaxed a second later when Mum covered her with a charm instead. She didn't have her smell-blocking amulet thing, oops.

"Oh, there they are!" A girl was skipping across the shabby pub toward them, grinning. She looked to be about Violet's age, her hair a bright bubblegum pink, dressed in muggleish shorts and tee shirt in bright neon colours — she could tell right away that that was Dora, but she couldn't really explain how she knew, she just did. "Violet, hi!" She leapt at Violet, flinging her arms over her shoulders.

She ran into Violet a little hard, but she just let out a huff and hugged her back. "Hi, Dora. You're all l-l-little!"

"I felt like it today." Dora released her, tipping back a bit, but still holding on to Violet's hands. With a crooked kind of grin, she said, "Besides, I'm here for you, so I should be you-sized, right? Ooh! How much you want to bet people are going to look at me really funny when I ask for the seventh-year books?"

"I wouldn't if I were you," Mum said. "There aren't that many metamorphs in the country, they might assume it's you. Are those transfigurable, or did you not need fresh uniforms this year?"

"Nah, the ones I already have are in fine shape still."

"Did you want child-sized ones, for when you're around Violet and the other children? I'll cover them, if you like."

Dora's eyes went wide, blinked up at Mum for a second. "Um, yeah, that'd be great, actually. I spend a lot of time around the littles — doing prefect stuff, you know — and... I don't know, it always feels weird being so much bigger than them? If I'm doing something with little kids I prefer to be their age, you know." Yeah, she noticed Mum often shrank down to Violet's age when they were playing or in the bath or whatever...though not so much lately — she mostly didn't do it when Muime was around, for some reason. "Thanks, Aunt Cassie. Anyway, I left Dad back here, come on..."

Pulling Violet along by the hand, Dora led them over to a table deeper into the pub, where Uncle Ted was sitting. He'd gotten a drink while they were waiting — coffee, Violet thought — but now that Violet and Mum were here he conjured a new mug and poured his drink into it, leaving the original one behind, and stood up to come with them. (The conjured mug was only temporary, but Violet guessed he didn't want to steal the pub's things.) The four of them went out into the back alley, Mum flicked her fingers at the wall across from the door, Violet felt a little cool prickle of magic on the air. There was a funny ripple in the wall, like dropping a rock in the water, and the bricks started moving, spinning in place and pulling back, making a high thin clack-clack-clack-clack as they bonked into each other, the wall folding itself up to the sides to reveal the hidden magical village on the other side.

One thing Violet had noticed about the magical world, was that shopping districts tended to be a bit messier than they were on the muggle side. Part of it was just because they built things different — the shops on the street didn't look so different from a very old fashioned city centre, narrow buildings packed together along both sides, but the owners had built them up, mostly three and some of them even five levels high, some with rooms added that leaned over the street, blocking out the sky. And they were more colourful, of course, painted with whatever and plastered with advertisements and posters and stuff...a lot of which moved, which made Violet a little dizzy to look at, really, making her think things were moving when it was just a picture, confusing. It was also common for shops to have tables of stuff out on the street, and a lot of places you had little stalls people set up, or even people just carrying around their things and trying to sell them to whoever came by. Diagon Alley was a nicer place, so it didn't have as many of those last kind of people, but there were tables in front of some shops and some stalls set up now and then, at the intersections with cross streets, making the already narrow street really cramped, in some places so little space people had to squeeze by two-by-two.

The narrow, cramped space made the street feel a lot more crowded than it actually was. There were people around, mages in colourful glittery robes (more upper-class stuff than Violet normally saw at the Refuge) walking around or poking over the tables and stands — there weren't really that many, but there wasn't enough space for all of them. Dora kept a hold on Violet's hand, and Mum and Uncle Ted kept close around them, making a little clear box, which she kind of appreciated.

Their first stop was the bank, which was really pretty! The outside was all sparkly white marble, the entrance at the top of the stairs big double doors made all in shining reddish-bronze, hanging open. Violet had been here a couple times before, and normally there were a pair of door guards outside — goblins, looking a lot like elves, but with narrower, more human-shaped eyes and craggy wrinkly skin, the door guards in gleaming polished golden armour and holding long pikes — but there were more people here this time. There were three guards on each side of the door, instead of just one, a row of them along each end of the steps, standing in the middle of the stairs in front of the door a single goblin, this one with a sword on one hip and an axe on the other, in even prettier armour, gold and red and blue, gemstones sparkling here and there and there...

"Did, did, did... Did something happen?"

"Security must still be heightened after the break-in."

Oh right, Violet heard about that — the adults around had been gossipping about it at her birthday party, came up a few times since. Someone broke into one of the vaults way down under their feet. Nothing was stolen — the vault happened to be empty at the time — but the thief managed to get in and get away without being caught, which never happened before. There was a whole investigation going on, and there were complaints about the goblins searching people coming in and out and being slower than usual, because of security checks and stuff, it was a whole mess.

The goblin in front of the door didn't slow them down much, though. He glanced over the four of them, asked for their names quick, and then sidled out of the way to let them through. There was a little entryway inside, with another couple guards with pikes and a second set of doors in shiny polished silver. Beyond was the main hall of the bank — the ceiling was high, arching way up there, with complicated light fixtures made out of bronze (gold?) and crystal and gemstones, the light they made and the sunlight through the glass skylights bouncing all around, making them all sparkly and throwing spotty chinks of multicoloured light all over the room. Most of it was more pretty marble, but there were also mosaics in places, made out of different colours of stone or sometimes tiny plates of polished metal, done in complex geometric patterns, everything colourful and clean and shiny and almost glowing...

It was a little bright, the reflected sunlight kind of hurting her eyes when it caught a bit of gold trim at the top of a pillar or along one of the doorframes or the edging of the desks, but it was super pretty. Supposedly, goblin nations had some of the best stone and metal craftsmen in the entire world, and Violet could believe it.

There were two rows of desks down the middle of the big room, facing each other, the customers waiting their turns in the open space between. Violet noticed that there were rather more guards around than normal, more goblins with axes and swords and stuff, but if they were still annoyed and nervous about the break-in, that made sense. The bank was still working like normal though, they just went to wait their turn like everyone else. It wasn't too busy, thankfully, before long they were up next already.

They were waiting right at the front of the line for a minute, when Mum said, "Your key please, Violet."

"Oh! Right, sorry." She never used it, but she did have the key for her vault — set up by her father when she was a baby, for her to use until she was grown up and could start doing adult money stuff (kind of like an allowance?) — it should be in her coin purse with her money, in this pocket over here...

She was distracted enough finding her key that she didn't notice Mum moving right away, Dora hooked her elbow and dragged her along. When Mum told her to, Violet tipped up onto her toes and set the key, a flat rectangular chip of smooth ceramic that didn't really look like a key at all, up on the counter in front of the goblin — the counter was high, she couldn't even see the goblin sitting there when she wasn't standing on her toes. (Goblins were super short, like elves, she thought they'd built the desks so they would feel taller talking to human customers.) That key was for Harry Potter's account, but they straightened all that out with the goblins ages ago, he just went on and asked how much money they wanted to withdraw without saying anything about it. Dora and Ted didn't need to do anything, but surprisingly Mum did get some money too — normally she just wrote cheques for everything — it took a little bit for the goblin to count out all their coins. Mum and Violet both had to sign a slip of paper quick, Violet writing against the side of the desk, she carefully scooped the coins into her purse, and there, that was it.

As they walked back across the main hall, Mum handed the bag of coins she just got out to Dora. "That's for you, kid."

"Wait, what? Really? Weren't there, like, a few galleons in there?"

"Sure. I know the equipment you'll need through the internship and the apprenticeship can be quite expensive — not to mention eating out because you don't have the time to get home. Some commoners I knew skipped meals sometimes when they were starting out, and metamorphs need to eat the same as anyone else, trust me."

"Oh, yeah, you're probably right. Thanks, Aunt Cassie, you're the best."

"Don't spend it all at once, you can lean on that much gold for years if you're smart about it."

"Yeah, yeah, honestly, I'm not irresponsible — I am a prefect, you know."

"Mhmm."

Mum and Ted were muttering to each other, but Violet wasn't really listening, waked back out onto Diagon Alley with her arm linked in Dora's. Dora only needed books and potions supplies, and also robes now, but Violet had more stores to hit — where did she want to go first? Which was a silly question, she didn't know, really. She always felt kind of awkward shopping for things? Clothes could be fun sometimes, and picking out supplies for art or embroidery stuff, but mostly everything else she always felt out of place, kind of, like she didn't know what she was supposed to be doing with herself. (That wasn't an unusual feeling, really, she just tried to ignore it most of the time.) Mum must have been listening, she said they should go get her a trunk first, so they could put her books in her trunk, shrink it and put it in her bag. Which was clever, so they went ahead and did that.

Violet didn't find this shop super interesting, and it smelled kind of funny? That was probably the alchemical varnish they used on the wood, Mum said. (Alchemy stuff did smell pretty bad sometimes, she always wore her amulet when watching Muime do alchemy things.) Mum cast a spell to protect her from the smelliness, which was better, now she was just bored. She didn't really care about her trunk at all, Mum and Ted (and Dora) knew better what kind of spells and stuff she'd want on it, and no, she didn't care what it looked like either. Wait, would she ruin it if she painted it for fun? Okay good — then no, she didn't care what it looked like.

Mum picked one out for her that was expanded on the inside, and had built-in featherweight and shrinking charms, and was mostly plain on the outside, so she could paint it however she liked. Once they were done in here, Violet stuck the shrunken trunk right in her bag, and they moved on to the bookstore.

Getting the required books was really easy: the shop had sets prepared with all the books that first-years needed, all in a little box for them. Mum added a few more books, because she thought some of the required ones were really bad — also, her lessons with Mum meant she was kind of ahead, and there was really no point in going to school if she didn't learn anything — and then they hung around a bit longer to see if there was anything else they thought looked interesting. There were books in English, some of them were in Cambrian (she barely knew any, but she knew what it looked like written), and some were even in French, but she didn't see any Gaelic books at all. That was kind of weird — bookstores at the Refuge would have books in English and Cambrian, and sometimes French too. Whatever.

Violet ended up adding a book of super simple kids' stories in Cambrian — it was illustrated, she thought the drawings were just okay, that's not why she got it — and also a book on teaching yourself lacemaking. Mum said it might be a little while before she could read Cambrian that well, but that was fine, and also that the lacemaking book would only have the basic stuff, and it wouldn't teach any of the magic that people put into it — there were rules, the guild would sue the publisher if they put trade secrets in a book. That was fine though, she just thought it looked neat, might play around with it if she had spare time.

After paying for the books, they went into Violet's trunk, which she re-shrunk and tucked into her bag — Dora's were in there too, just because they were easiest to carry this way. Mum decided they would go to Ollivander's next, and then the seamster's, if there was time before lunch.

Violet wasn't really sure if she wanted a new wand. She liked hers! She knew it was technically a Black wand, and she wasn't supposed to keep it — when she was done with it, it was supposed to go back in with the rest of Scorpius Brandon's things — but she was used to it, and her magic liked it. The thought of needing to learn to use another one made her kind of annoyed, and...uncomfortable. Not sure uncomfortable how, just, stomach-squeezing and skin-prickling, didn't like it.

Mum said she could still keep the wand she had now, and also get another one — you were allowed to have two. Maybe one wand would work better for some magics than the other, so she could switch off which one she was using depending on what she needed to do, and in case something happened to one she'd have the other. All that made sense, sure, Violet wasn't going to complain about it.

She still didn't like it, though. She was kind of hoping that all the wands in the shop wouldn't like her, so she'd be 'stuck' with the one she had now anyway.

Uncle Ted pulled open the door for them, Dora and Violet skipping inside first. (Actually skipping, Dora started doing it first, which was silly, but Violet was going along just because.) She jerked to a stop just inside the door, wrenching on Dora's arm a little — it hurt in here. The air felt thick and heavy, buzzing in her ears, stabbing and scratching at her skin, Violet cringed away, bumping into someone (Mum). The bad feeling pushing in, making her feel gross and bleh, she squinted, the colours in the room seeming too intense, it was hard to make anything out...

What was that? Could they not feel that? Everyone else was acting normal...

Gritting her teeth, her fists shivering at her sides, she stopped trying to back away, took a few steps into the shop. Mum's arm wrapping around her helped, a little — she could tell something was wrong, but not what. Dora was frowning at her...she was pretty sure. It was still weirdly hard to see? Not just the stuff in the room, but Dora too, the colours bright and stabby, like sunlight reflecting off of polished metal, it hurt.

She thought maybe Dora was about to say something, but she was cut off by a voice from further into the shop calling, "Just one moment... Ah ha, of course — Lady Black, Edward and Nymphadora Tonks. And this must be Violet Black. I did wonder whether I'd be seeing you this summer."

"Hey, how did you know who I am?" Dora asked. "I didn't look anything like this last time I was here. And, you know, that was seven years ago."

"I remember every witch and wizard who has ever set foot in my shop — a mage's presence has a distinctive texture to it, to those who are sensitive to such things. And your father is rather more recognisable."

"Oh, well, sure..." She sounded a little annoyed, like she hadn't thought that someone might know who she was just because Uncle Ted only had the one daughter.

"I suppose Miss Black will be needing a wand, naturally. Before we get started, I may take a quick look at all of yours — after years of use, there is a risk of faults developing in—"

"I'm sorry," Violet hissed through her teeth. "Can, can we-g-g– Can—" She forced herself to take a deep, slow, breath which was actually really hard — it hurt, the stabbing and scratching at her skin making her all tense, feeling all jumbled and sharp and shivery inside, hard to make her muscles do what she wanted to. Slowly, syllable by syllable, "Can we go fast? It hurts in here."

"Ah...the Sight, perhaps? The Blacks are also known to have quite sensitive magesight, hmm... I may be able to circumvent the latter — one moment." A couple seconds passed, and then there was a funny rippling feeling, the floor rolling under her feet and air lapping against her skin, and—

"Oh!" The bad feeling was suddenly gone — disappearing in a blink like it wasn't there at all, leaving funny warm tingles behind. She still felt a little sick, a dull vague ache in her head, but that was much better. And her eyes were actually working now...not that there was anything that interesting to see? The wand shop was a mess, a little open spot at the front with a sales counter over there, the rest of the space filled with stacks and stacks and stacks of long narrow boxes, so much dust she could see it in place. She could smell the dust too, actually, that was just kind of gross.

There was an older man standing between them and the stacks, tall and thin, trousers and wrap-around tunic with sleeves hugging close around his arms — meant for people who worked with their hands, so the fabric didn't get in the way — in plain soft earthy colours, the jacket he'd pulled on over a bit askew. Combined with his messy mane of grey hair, he looked kind of dishevelled. His skin where it was showing was a bit wrinkly, he must be older than Mum by decades (around Grandma Diana's age, maybe?), and his eyes were big, and silver, almost seeming to glow in the dim lighting of the shop. Violet knew silver eyes were a thing some mages had, rarely — the stories said Seers had silver eyes but Mum said it didn't work like that, just stories. He had a wand balanced loosely between his fingers, probably just finished casting whatever spell made the bleh go away. One bushy white eyebrow ticking up, he asked, "Better?"

"Yes, that's mmmmuch better, thank you. What was that?"

"Wands are powerful magical instruments, Miss Black — concentrate so many into so small a space, and they may become terribly noisy to those who possess the ears to hear them. I've long grown accustomed. As I was saying, I may confirm your wands are in working order, if you've the time...?"

Master Ollivander checked all their wands quick, to make sure nothing was wrong with them. (If there was something wrong with a wand, it could blow up in your face — literally — so it was smart to have a wandcrafter check them now and then.) He would accept the wand with both hands and a little bow, turning it in his hands, his fingers running over the wood, bringing it up very close to his eyes, staring at it from centimetres away — sometimes he even held it up to his ear, as though he were listening to it. He recognised Dora's wand right away, since he made it, but Uncle Ted's wand was made by his uncle, and Mum's wand by his great-grandfather, so he didn't know them as well. He could still tell what they were made out of, right away, make a guess at when they were made and how long Mum and Uncle Ted had them, even what kind of magic they'd done, and if their wand was happy with them.

He could even tell that Mum had killed people with her wand, which was kind of creepy.

Before long he finished with their wands — they were all okay, though Master Ollivander said Uncle Ted might come in later to have the varnish on his stripped and replaced, just in case — which meant it was Violet's turn. He stepped a little closer to her, almost leaning over her — close enough it was a little uncomfortable, even, Violet leaning away without really meaning to. Staring at her with his big silver eyes...though not right at her, she noticed, bouncing back and forth around her, looking at something only he could see. She felt funny little sizzles on the air, something almost like fingers brushing over the back of her neck, her shoulders prickling...

(It kind of reminded her of the feeling of her mind-magic shield blocking something, but not quite? Didn't know what that was, but, Mum didn't look like she was worried, so.)

"...Curious."

Violet blinked up at him — well, down at his knees, he was making her too uncomfortable to actually meet his eyes. She waited for him to say something, but he didn't, just kept staring down at her. "Um. What?"

"The character of your magic is...quite interesting." He straightened, turned to look at Mum — not hovering over her anymore, Violet relaxed, letting out a little breath. "This has the flavour of soul magic, if I'm not mistaken, of an otherworldly character."

"Of a sort, yes," Mum admitted. "Violet saw a pair of Avalonian healers, years ago now."

"...To produce these effects, it must have been a reconstruction of profound depth and complexity."

"Curse damage was involved. I'm afraid I can't tell you more than that — family secret."

"Hmm." Master Ollivander turned back to stare at Violet, just for a second before lifting one skinny shoulder in a shrug. "Very well. The alterations seem well integrated, I don't imagine it should pose an issue. May I see that wand you're carrying, Miss Black? A family relic, I presume."

Nobody told him she had a wand already, but he could tell the fairy healers changed her just by looking, so. Violet glanced over at Mum — it was technically against the rules for her to have this wand, though it was one of those little rules that the nobility broke all the time. Mum just nodded, though, so she drew her wand, and held it out to Master Ollivander.

He took it with both hands, doing the same little bow as the times before. (Violet thought that was a politeness thing, handling someone else's wand was very serious business for mages.) "Oho, now this is a family relic, isn't it. An Ollivander wand, yes, but I don't recognise the touch of the hand on it. Hmm... Eighteenth Century — Fifties or Sixties, perhaps?"

Violet didn't realise he was asking Mum until she started answering. "I can't say when it was made, precisely. That wand belonged to Scorpius Brandon Black — it would have been purchased in the first decade of the Nineteenth Century, I believe. I have no idea how long it might have waited in your House's stock before then."

"I see, I see. The wood is pear, from an old cider grove. Certain ritual traditions to promote a rich harvest leave the faintest echo on the wood — subtle, were it not for the fact that I myself craft wands from wood provided by such a grove, I would not know to recognise it. The core is unicorn, certainly, but there is... Ah, this is from a foal, fascinating."

Dora let out a little huff. "Suicidal, I think you mean."

His lips tilting into a toothy little smirk, Master Ollivander said, "In pursuit of one's craft, passion can push one further than is wise. The enchantments on this wand are somewhat dated, but it is elegant work — I'm certain it will continue to function gracefully for decades or even centuries to come." Again dipping in a little bow, he offered the wand in both hands back to her, Violet slipping it back into its spot hidden on her arm again. "A legacy wand having already paired with you will make the process of searching for a wand of your own far simpler: certain qualities will be shared by both wands. In particular, we will be narrowing ourselves to solely cores of unicorn hair — preferably those hairs provided by young, virgin unicorns — and woods of fruit-bearing trees — pear, apple, cherry, perhaps even citrus...ah, perhaps hazel..."

While wandering back and forth between the front of the shop and the stacks of boxes, gathering up a collection of boxes on the counter over here, Master Ollivander babbled on about how he normally fitted a wand to someone. Violet was going to be a little easier than most people, for a simple reason: wands came in different lengths, but because she was a metamorph she could just change herself to fit the wand, and it wasn't a big deal. Well, it was a little more complicated than that — the thing about a person that needed different wand lengths was actually a magic thing, something about how it flowed through people's bodies, which didn't always match the length of the person's arm. But that kind of thing could be very fuzzy for metamorphs, since they were changing all the time, and as she got used to using the wand she'd tweak that stuff with something Master Ollivander called compensatory resonance (whatever that meant), without even thinking about it, something metamorphs' bodies just did by themselves. So, yeah, they didn't need to worry about the length at all, they could ignore that, meaning there should be a larger number of wands here that would fit her than most people.

Once Master Ollivander had gathered up a collection of wand boxes, they started going through them — he would pick a box, say what it was made of, and hand the wand to her. Most of them, there was at least a little bit of a tingle in her fingers, and some felt nice and warm and pleasant, a couple sending a funny prickly thrill over her, making her squirm in place a little, colourful sparks popping up out of the tip. Master Ollivander said those were good matches, but not great, they could do better than that. He seemed a little disappointed when none of the citrus wands he picked fit her — he said he thought citrus wands were really neat, but they so rarely paired with British mages — he wavered over a hazel wand for a moment, his head bobbing back and forth, even asked her to cast a couple spells before deciding that one wasn't quite right.

Violet could tell immediately when she touched the one she was going to keep. It was made of apple, with tail hair from a young girl unicorn — not young young, older than the one the hair in her pear wand was from, but not properly grown up yet either. The wood was a pale yellowish-pinkish colour, streaks of darker reddish-brown through it, and like her pear wand there were little decorative carvings of flowers on it, Violet was noticing that was something the Ollivanders must do with fruit trees a lot. When she touched it, something went whooshing through her, kind of like the warm-silky-bathwater feeling of changing something, but not quite, reminding her more of sipping at hot chocolate, feeling warm and soft and comfortable, of making a goal playing iomáint, her insides going all bubbly and her skin prickling and sparking...

At the same time, there was a little flitter of pinkish light, a funny twinkling and a sweet crispy smell of apples — and the little designs carved into the wand actually bloomed, petals soft white edged with pink unfurling out of the wood.

"Ah ha!" Master Ollivander crowed, grinning. Violet thought his silvery eyes were sparkling, looking very happy with it. "Marvellous. Simply perfect, one could hardly expect a better match. How does that feel?"

Violet grinned back up at him. "Good! It's all sparkly."

"Sparkly is a good word for it, isn't it? Better than your family wand, or no?"

She frowned — sort of, anyway, she was smiling too hard to frown very well right now. It was kind of hard to tell just holding it. Just to try, she tossed a burst of blue and green sparks up into the air, and then handed the new wand over to her other hand so she could draw her old wand, tossed up some sparks again. "...I dunno. It, it, it– They're not the same, but, I can't tell if one's better."

"Well, perhaps the distinction will become clearer as you age, and begin casting more powerful magics. But that's the best match you're likely to find in my shop — we're ready for you now, my lady..."

Master Ollivander sent the rest of the wand boxes flying back off to the shelves with a careless swish of his own wand, walking back to the counter to ring them up. They were slowed down for a moment, because, he held out the box for Violet to put the wand back in — just until she got another holster for it, at least — but, um, the flower petals were still stuck on it? Master Ollivander took the wand, giving it a very funny look, frowning at the petals. Gently, he plucked one off, held it very close to his nose...and then he shrugged, somehow knocked off the rest of the petals with a wave of his hand and a prickle of magic, packed the wand back up into its box.

Violet noticed Master Ollivander sweep up the petals and tuck them into his pocket — the rest of their time in his shop, she was a little bit nervous about that. Her magic was weird, and, she wasn't supposed to let people know about that. She didn't know much about wands, but what if the wand doing that when it got a match wasn't so weird...but the petals were supposed to disappear, the only reason they didn't because Violet's magic was permanent? If Master Ollivander was saving those petals to look at them later, he might figure out it was because of her. But Mum didn't look worried, so, she was probably just thinking about it too hard.

Besides, Master Ollivander might be a little weird, but he seemed nice enough? And Violet couldn't really judge anyone else for being a little weird, so.

Mum handed over the seven galleons — wands were expensive, which seemed like kind of a waste, since Violet already had one that worked just fine... — and then they were leaving the wand shop, finally. It felt like they'd been in there for ages...but, looking at the shadows, she didn't think it was after noon yet, so. No one said they were super hungry right this second, so they went to a shop where they quick got a pair of work gloves (which she didn't like, the inside kind of scratchy, but all the options were kind of bad) and a second wand holster. So, now Violet had a wand strapped to both arms, which was silly, but whatever.

(Mum said she should keep both on her, in case there was an accident and one broke, or, if someone was attacking her or something, if she was disarmed then she could just pull out her second wand and surprise them. It didn't seem like either of those things were very likely to happen, but Violet didn't argue.)

It still wasn't quite lunchtime, so they went on to the seamster's next. Violet couldn't remember if she ever went to Madam Malkin's before — she thought maybe they got one of the outfits she needed for the stupid noble kid tea parties here once? Mostly they went to Twilfitt and Tattings, or the guildhouse in town, so, but Malkin's was the person Hogwarts chose to send all their uniform information to — not just the normal robes, but the quidditch and duelling team uniforms and everything too — so that was where they were going. Like other places she'd been to before, the inside of the shop was mostly normal-looking, nicely-lit and wood-panelled, the floor space filled with racks of clothes. Those weren't ones you were supposed to buy — though, the underclothes were — just examples of the work they did here that you could look at, and talk about with the workers here.

Most of the time, shops like this would be empty when they showed up — custom-tailored clothes were kind of expensive, and they lasted a long time, so they might only get a few customers a day. Also, a lot of the time they would take appointments, and when someone was in here the door would be locked anyway. But this time, when they walked in Violet noticed right away that they weren't the only people here: sitting in one of the chairs by the windows was a tall, pretty Asian lady. Chinese, maybe? Her robe looked Chinese — British mages wore robes too, but Violet had been to China before, so she knew the style was different, wrapped closed around the person to make a V at their neck and brought close in at the middle with a cloth belt and with baggy sleeves and a pleated skirt. Though, this one didn't have all the super super pretty embroidery that the robes she'd seen in China did, solid segments of yellow and pinkish-red and black in acromantula silk (it glittered in the light different from normal silk), so, Violet thought it was made here, but the lady had it tailored in a more Chinese-looking style. And she had a wide-brimmed hat too, covered in black fabric, a few inches' worth hanging down from the brim all the way around, knitted in an almost lace-looking pattern, beads stuck in there, swaying a little with every little movement, flickering in the light. She was wearing pinkish cloth gloves (matching the colour on her sleeves), one finger idly playing with the corner of a page on the book she was reading, her lips were darkened and her eyes lined with makeup (or glamours), made more obvious against her sort of oliveish-light-brownish skin tone.

She was pretty! Violet kind of stared for a couple seconds, until Dora started tugging her deeper into the shop, getting her attention back. There was another woman here, who was familiar but Violet wasn't quite thinking of her name, and— "Oh Violet! Hi!" Olivie skipped over toward them, and almost threw herself at Violet, her arms coming up around her shoulders — Dora unhooked her elbow in time for Violet to catch her, tipping back a couple steps. "I didn't know you were shopping today! We should have come together."

"Hi Olivie! Finding a time was w-w-weird, sorry." Olivie was letting her go now, backing off a step, her eyes flicking over to Dora. "Oh, that's my cousin Dora. Olivie's in my Hogwarts class, and, and, she was at an Ollscoil too."

"Hi Dora, nice to meet you. Are you starting at Hogwarts this year too? I thought I heard of everyone already — except the muggleborns, I mean."

Dora giggled. "No, I'm a seventh-year."

"Oh! I get it, you're a metamorph too. Hi, Lady Cassie," she said, waving over at Mum and Uncle Ted behind them. "You have good timing, we were just about to go in, and they can probably fit you in with— Wait! There's another girl with us, I should introduce you! Um, over here..." Now Olivie hooked Violet by the elbow, pulled her deeper into the shop and around one of the racks. There was a girl poking through the dresses hanging on one of the racks — the pretty Chinese lady's daughter, definitely, but she was in normal British clothes, linen trousers and a hip-length tunic that wouldn't look out of place on the kids in some of the middle-class neighbourhoods a few streets over that way, or back at the Refuge. She looked up as Olivie came back with Violet. "Look, Violet just got here! This is Violet Black, her mum is Lady Black — she's the blonde woman back there, talking to your mum." This girl's mum was the Chinese lady, then. "Violet, this is Suchwa– um, no..."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Sùjuān." It kind of sounded like sue-chen, but...not quite, there was a U-sound in the chen part, but not quite exactly a U-sound... "Just 'Su' is good enough."

"Sorry," Olivie muttered, shrinking in a little — Violet glanced that way, her face had even gone a little pink.

"It's really okay, I'm used to it. Hello, Violet," Su said, nodding at her.

"Hello Su, n-nnice to meet you." She kind of wanted to try her real name — pronouncing people's names correctly was just basic politeness — but she could ask about it later.

"I'm sorry, are you... I forget the English word. The people who change? I only ask because of your hair." Because of the rainbow flecks in it, she meant, probably.

"Metamorph? Yeah, I am. My mum is too, and my c-c-cousin Dora. That's her, over there — she's older than she looks, by the way, she's a Hufflepuff pr-prefect, she only likes being little when she's with me, you know."

By the weird look on Su's face, she did not know. Olivie seemed to think it was funny, though, snickering into her hand.

Thankfully there wasn't much time for them to stand around being awkward about that, Madam Malkin showed up with a couple assistants to shuffle them over into the fitting room. There was a little bit of talk first, yes, they were here for Hogwarts uniforms — Dora lied and said she was a Hufflepuff second-year and just needed new ones, Su giving her another funny look — no, they didn't mind doing all of them at once. (They were all girls anyway, and nobody wanted to sit around waiting their turn when it was almost lunch time.) They were moved over into the fitting room — a smaller, much emptier space, covered with wood panels everywhere except for one whole wall, which was a long unbroken mirror. There was a folding divider thing against one wall, Violet guessed for people to change underwear in private, but there was nothing else in here at all.

Malkin and the assistants didn't follow them in, letting them undress without people standing around awkwardly watching. (Not that it would bother Violet, really, but she knew other people could be shy about this sort of thing.) She set her bag down against the wall, unstrapped both wand holsters and stuck them in there, before getting to the actual undressing part. Since Su was new — Violet didn't think she'd been to any of the pre-Hogwarts get-together things — they mostly talked about who they were and where they were from, and stuff. So she learned pretty quickly that she had guessed right: Su was from China, and her parents had moved over here so Su could go to Hogwarts...for reasons. Violet had no idea why they were doing that, and she got the feeling Su didn't know either.

None of them were really shy at all about the undressing part — Violet had had baths with both Dora and Olivie before, it wasn't a big deal — but Su was, a little bit. At least part of that, she thought, was because Su didn't have a vest or a chemise or something under her top — maybe she expected to be alone for this anyway, so. When Dora noticed, she conjured one for her quick, floating it over with a charm, Su mumbled out an awkward thank you while pulling it on.

They weren't left alone for very long before before Madam Malkin came back with her assistants, bundles of black cloth folded over their arms, and they got started. Mages had a bunch of different words for different kinds of clothes, which sometimes but didn't always match with muggle ones — when they said "robes" they meant a one-piece thing, that covered your top half and your bottom half, and normally (but not always) had long sleeves and a hem down by your ankles. (That meaning was broad enough that some dresses fit in what mages called robes, which was why you got funny things like "summer robes" that were basically just dresses.) Mages would sometimes say "robes" when they really meant clothes, like, whatever you were wearing, and some people sometimes used it as a verb in place of "dress" — like, being "robed" meant you were wearing clothes, and you might hear old people tell a young person to "robe" themself if they thought they weren't dressed properly — so you sometimes heard people call clothes "robes" even though they definitely definitely weren't, which just made things more confusing than they really had to be.

One thing Violet noticed that seemed to be a difference between things called "robes" and things called "dresses" was how the thing was built. A lot of the time, you were supposed to wear a layer under a dress, like a slip or something, but robes had the underlayer built right into them — the underlayer was more fitted to you, and was what held it onto your body properly, and then attached to it were the loser, more drapey folds of cloth that made up the parts people could actually see. There were also some style things that gave things a robe feeling to people, like, to do with the collar and the cut of the sleeves, and being all long and loose and billowy and stuff, which could also make people call things "robes" that weren't technically robes, just because they kind of looked like it.

The Hogwarts uniform were proper robes. The inner layer was, like, a loose dress, the fabric smooth and soft — the sleeves came to a little bit short of the elbow, the hem dropping a little past the knees. You couldn't actually see the bottom layer, though, because the heavy, thick, draping, solid black cloth of the top layer was attached directly to it, and completely hid it. The robes were mostly loose and shapeless, so there wasn't a lot of fitting to do. The exception was, obviously, how long things were supposed to be for how tall you were, and there was also a belt thing in the bottom layer, that you were supposed to cinch in and tie around your waist, and then a little drawstring at the neck to hold it closed up there — the two ties held the bottom layer in place, so it didn't accidentally slide around or anything, and the top layer was held in place by the bottom layer, so. There actually was a bit of a collar to the robes (hiding the laces at the neck), and there was a tie that was supposed to go there, but it was in different colours depending on which house you were in, so they wouldn't be given those until after they were Sorted.

Or, they weren't ties, actually, or not what Violet would call ties. Dora was getting proper Hufflepuff robes, so hers included the tie — it looked more like a short scarf to Violet or, like, a cravat or something. Like, those neckerchief things some people in old paintings had, you know? You were even supposed to kind of tuck it at the front like this — that looked a lot like some of the men in old paintings she'd seen — though Dora didn't normally bother, liked to just tie it loose and let it hang, more like this...

Of course, their robes would be different colours too, depending on their house — the ones they were making for Dora had the Hufflepuff badger on the breast, a strip of yellow and brown along the sleeves, more all down both sides of the skirt and along the hems at the sleeves and the floor. Those were additions that were stitched onto the upper layer, which was pretty easy to do super quick with magic, just zip zip zip with a few charms. Madam Malkin made up kits with everything they needed for each of the houses every year, and the elves would come through and fix up their robes while they slept that first night. Sometimes they couldn't get all of them, but they made sure everyone had at least one finished robe before the first day of classes, so if the elves were being a bit slow about it make sure to wear your robe that had the colours already, made sense.

Violet really didn't like the robes. It was super boring that they were all just plain black, sure, but hopefully that part would be better once it was altered for whichever house she was in? (Mum was thinking Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw, and blue and yellow were both nice colours.) That part wasn't so bad, she could live with wearing boring clothes (even if it was very sad) — the problem was that the fabric of the top part was wool. The bottom part didn't cover everywhere, the top part rubbing against her arms and her legs, the collar around her neck.

And it itched.

She tried to ignore it, at first, thinking it wasn't that bad — she had to wear some uncomfortable things sometimes, maybe she would get used to it? But, the longer she stood there, whenever she moved her arms or shifted her weight a little, the fabric brought brushing against her skin was really grating, like suddenly being rubbed with sandpaper, and it was always touching her neck, scratching and itching, getting worse and worse, until it felt like it was burning, and it was making her skin crawl and she was starting to feel a little sick even, getting all tense and jittery, gritting her teeth and trying to act like a normal person, she thought she felt sweat beading on her forehead...

It wasn't just the robes they had to get, there was a cloak too. And, when the assistant lady snapped it in place, it tugged on the top of the robes, making the collar close in and kind of twist around her neck a little — prickles crawling over her head, like her hair was standing on end, she cringed away from the assistant lady, unpleasant cold shivers running down her spine— "Nope!"

"Is something the—"

Scrabbling at her throat with both hands, "Nope nope nope!" she ripped away the cloak, groped for the knot holding the neck closed — it took a couple tries, a little shaky, her breath hot and thick in her throat, before she managed to get it loose. She pulled the robe over her head, but it didn't come off, the bit tightened around her waist getting caught under her arms. Crap, she forgot about that, stupid. Holding the robes up over her head with one hand and trying to worm her other arm down through her sleeves so she could get at the belt, she lost her balance, plopped down hard onto her bum, ow...

After a bit of squirming and flailing, she finally managed to get the stupid thing off. Violet flopped out onto her back on the floor, shivering and a little out of breath, feeling all flushed and blech. Her skin was still crawling with little prickles, like there were little bugs wandering all over her, she squirmed, trying to get comfortable, kicking her heels against the floor, mmmm...

Her view of the ceiling straight up was partly blocked out by Dora leaning over her — her hair had gone a funny twisty blue-yellow-green swirl, didn't know what that was about. "Violet? Are you all right?"

"B-b-b-bad."

"What's bad? Did something happen?"

Pointing in the direction she threw the robe, Violet said, "The, its, its, outside is wool."

"What does that— Oh!" Dora straightened, turned to look at someone else. "Violet doesn't wear wool — sorry, I forgot about that." She wasn't sure if Dora was saying sorry to Violet or the seamstresses, but she guessed it didn't really matter.

"Ah, I see." Whoever that was said it slow, sounding a bit unfocussed, like they didn't see, actually. "We may substitute piled linen, if that would be preferable."

"Violet?"

She had no idea what that meant, so. "Lemme feel it first."

There was a short discussion about that, and the assistant lady who'd been 'helping' Violet a second ago went out to find some of whatever that stuff was. Everyone went back to what they were doing, ignoring her — or trying to, anyway, she thought they maybe sounded a little distracted. Violet just laid there on the floor, and tried to calm down.

Her breath was still coming kind of thick, almost hurting in her throat, and she still felt gross, all crawly and squirmy, aaahhh...

Before too long, the assistant lady came back, crouched down over her. "Here, would this be better?"

Violet forced herself to sit up — the lady had a length of fabric draped over one arm, dyed a bright pretty blue. Too bad she couldn't make her robe out of that, at least it'd be less boring than the black. She grabbed a bit of the fabric with one hand, pulled it over to rub it against her arm, then tossed her hair out of the way so she could get at the side of her neck. "That's m-m-mmmuch better. Yeah."

"Are you a Seer? There are things we can try to avoid, for fastenings and the like."

She shook her head. "No, I, um, I'm only weird about things sometimes. That robe was, was, was itchy. Hated it. Sorry."

The woman frowned, eyes turning away from Violet. Confused, maybe? "That's all right. We can make it out of this instead. I already have all the measurements I need from you, so we can be done for the day, if you want."

Flopping back down to lay on her back, Violet sighed. "Yes, p-please. Thank you."

"Of course, Miss Black. I'll go talk to the Master about it." The lady stood up, and took a couple steps away, disappearing from view.

They'd been getting toward the end of the fitting when Violet freaked out, so there wasn't much to do anyway — one of the assistants came by to quick measure her head, for the hat, but that was it. The hat was also normally made out of wool, because of course it was. They brought her a sample, and, that wasn't as bad as the robe — she thought it was woven differently, but it was hard to tell — but it was still going to bother her, so switch the fabric in that out too, please and thank you. But it was only a couple minutes before they were all done, they could go ahead and get dressed again.

Looking over at their things by the wall, Violet pouted — she still felt gross, all skin-crawly and jittery, she kind of didn't want to get dressed. Unfortunately, doing the rest of their shopping in her underwear wasn't really an option, so. She went over to join the rest of the girls getting proper clothes back on, trying not to look too mopey.

"So what do you have left to do today?" Olivie asked.

"Um...only p-potions stuff left, I think. And, and, and, I'm g-getting a cat!"

"Oh wow cool! It's too bad I can't get the pet I want — they don't let you bring polecats to Hogwarts."

"That's too bad." Violet knew ferrets were pretty common in magical Britain...though she didn't know why, really...

"We already did potions in the morning, though. Su?"

"What? Oh, we only have books left."

"D-der-d-d—" Stupid thing, talking was dumb — she used the excuse of pulling her dress back on over her head to take a break. "Did you have l-llunch yet? We're doing that next, I think."

"Oh! No, we haven't, sure, we can come!"

"Neat! Su, do you wanna come?"

She hesitated, looking away for a second. "I'm not sure my mum will want to go, but I can ask." For a second there, Violet was thinking Su didn't want to come with them, and was just being polite, but if the problem was that she didn't know if her mum would agree to go, sure, that made sense.

They were done getting ready before too long, and they moved back out into the main room of the shop — the adults were already at the counter talking to Madam Malkin, probably paying. Olivie hooked Violet's elbow and started skipping over, Violet scrambled for the first couple steps before catching up. Her mum said they could go. She asked where they were going, but that was a silly question, obviously they were having magic pizza. (Violet still called it that, which she knew was kind of silly, but she was allowed to be silly sometimes.) When Su caught up, she and her mum went back and forth for a bit in Chinese — it sounded familiar, Violet was pretty sure it was the same language people were speaking that time they went to China for a duelling thing — and Su's Mum said they could come too, yay!

A couple minutes later and they were all paid up, and they were stepping back out into Diagon Alley again. The magic pizza place wasn't very far away, just down over this way and then a street over — it was a little busy, but not so badly that they couldn't find open tables. They didn't have big tables in here, though — they mostly expected working people to come over during their lunch break or to get take-away at the end of the day, so — but they did find two four-person tables right next to each other, which would do. Though, it was going to be a little awkward, because it made the most sense to have the kids at one table and the grown-ups at the other, but the Riverses would need to get a different pizza from everyone else — they did eat meat, unlike Daphne's family, but only if the animals were raised and slaughtered in a specific way, and there was no way to tell if wherever the restaurant got their stuff had done that or not. But that was fine, their tables were close enough that they decided they could just pass plates around, they'd figure it out.

"Sùjuān."

"Suchwen?" Violet could hear that that wasn't right, but she couldn't tell how.

Su shook her head. "You're saying chuan — it's juan, Sùjuān."

"I'm sorry," Olivie said, "I can't hear the difference at all."

"I can, I'm j-j-j– not sure what it is, exactly."

"Okay, so." Leaning over the table between them, Su drew a vertical line, and then a horizontal one, making four imaginary boxes. Pointing at the top left and then the bottom left, "Quan, chuan," then the top right and bottom right, "juan, zhuan."

"Oh!" Violet got it now! It was kind of like how gao and gí were different in Gaelic! The difference between the top and bottom ones, she meant the W-ish sound was different, which made the consonant different (or maybe the other way around). She still wasn't sure what the difference between the left and right were, but... "Quan?"

"Close. Quan," point at the top left of her imaginary boxes, and then the bottom right, "juan. Quan, juan."

...It sounded like the difference was that the left-side one had a little bit of an extra breathy sound to it — it was really subtle, though, she could barely hear it at all. "Um, um, um, juan?"

Su smiled, a little. "Sùjuān."

"Sujuán?"

"Sù," she said, making a sharp diagonal downward slash with a finger, her hand coming back up to draw a flat horizontal line, "juān."

Like, the pitch she was saying it at, she meant? That mattered, for Chinese? She guessed it did sound kind of bouncy... "Er. Sù, j-j-j– Sujuān." She carefully didn't say it as a question, so she didn't screw up having that high, flat pitch Su was trying to get her to make.

"Sùjuān."

"Sù juān."

"Close enough! I heard the right thing that time."

"C-cool! Sù juān, Sù juān, Sùjuān, Sùjuān. That it?"

Sùjuān nodded, smiling. "That's it. Thanks for trying, no one here ever gets that right." Pointing at Violet, she said, "Zǐhuā."

Violet was getting a name now? Okay, neat. "What does that mean?"

"Violet — I mean, purple flowers, I guess, not just the same plant. Zǐhuā."

She guessed it didn't have to mean the exact same thing, that was still pretty! This one was a little hard for Violet to get right, since, it didn't seem like the first syllable had a vowel at all? It was like a TS sound, and you kept holding the S, kind of, and you were supposed to do a little scoopy, down-up thing with your voice, it felt weird. She got it after a few tries, though.

And then Sùjuān said, pointing to herself, "Wǒ jiào Sùjuān." Then her finger turned around to point at Violet again. "Nǐ jiào shénme?"

Oh jeez, making it hard on her with full sentences, she'd only wanted to be able to say Sùjuān's name correctly...

Through lunch, they mostly talked about where they went to school before — or Violet and Olivie told Sùjuān about an Ollscoil, mostly. Sùjuān did go to primary school back in China — a really nice place by the sound of it, Violet got the feeling that her family had money — but the last couple years she'd been mostly homeschooled. Or, for magical education she'd mostly been homeschooled, apparently she actually went to a muggle primary school here in England at the same time — that was a surprise, hardly anyone in the magical world went to muggle schools. Though that did explain why her English was so good, her mum had a super obvious accent but Sùjuān didn't at all, really. Well, Violet guessed she kind of did have an accent to mages, when she thought about it, because she was just noticing now that Sùjuān was speaking, like, normal southern English, which you didn't normally hear on the magical side at all...

They also talked about Hogwarts, which was made easier because they had Dora right here, who knew all about it. This talk also leaned toward Sùjuān a bit — Violet and Olivie both had family who went to Hogwarts before, but Sùjuān would be the first in her family, so. Sometimes, when one of them would say something, Sùjuān would make a little face, but it was subtle enough that it was hard to tell what it was. (Also, Violet could be bad at reading faces sometimes.) She didn't seem super happy, that much was obvious. Violet got the feeling that Sùjuān didn't want to go to Hogwarts, but that wasn't really her business, so she kept the thought to herself.

(There was definitely something going on, with Sùjuān's parents moving over here and making her go to Hogwarts — a plan they had for a long time, by the sound of it, since Sùjuān started learning English when she was, like, four or five. But that was probably private family stuff, so.)

Sùjuān also taught them some Chinese! Well, she taught Violet some Chinese — Olivie and Dora tried, but they were both very bad at it. Dora said she was bad with languages anyway — Aunt Andi tried to teach her French, but she could barely speak any, and she dropped out of Cambrian classes as soon as it was allowed — and Olivie could already talk to people in four languages — her first language was actually Cambrian, and then she learned English, and she picked up some French from her mum (she was from France), and she learned some Gaelic at an Ollscoil. She wasn't fluent in French or Gaelic, but she could get through a conversation in it pretty well, and, four languages was already a lot! Chinese was so different from the other four she already spoke, she had trouble hearing it right...

Not that Violet really learned that much, like, just a few basic sentences, really. And she suspected she'd forget it pretty quickly anyway — she'd try to remember Sùjuān's name, at least, to be nice, but other than that. Sùjuān would just have to teach her more while they were at school! She was going to be starting Cambrian classes, and Mum was going to get her a French tutor soon too, which was so many languages, but just for fun, you know?

Sùjuān let out a sigh, rolling her eyes — playing like she was annoyed, but Violet was...pretty sure she was just pretending? like as a joke, maybe. She wasn't sure, it was kind of hard to tell and it'd probably be weird to ask.

Also, the magic pizza was great, but it was magic pizza, so that was expected.

They sat around talking for a little bit after they were done eating before Missus, um...Lĭ, okay, Missus Lĭ said she and Sùjuān needed to get going. Sùjuān seemed a little surprised when she got hugs from both Violet and Olivie, but that was silly — they were friends now, and friends got hugs, that's how these things worked. Back out on the street, their group split up, and it was just Violet and Mum and Dora and Uncle Ted again.

Next was the apothecary — Violet dug out her smell-blocking amulet from her bag and hung it around her neck before stepping inside. It was dark and kind of unpleasant in here, with all the creepy-looking bottles and bins of dried bugs and whatever, Violet didn't like apothecaries. (The amulet took care of the smell, at least.) She didn't need to stay here very long, since they sold a pre-packaged thing with all the ingredients that first-year Hogwarts students needed, but Dora would take longer, since they didn't do that for NEWT students, she had a whole big list on a sheet of paper. But Violet also needed to get basic potions-making stuff, which Dora didn't need, so she and Mum went to pay for her stuff and then left again, with an agreement to meet up at the pet shop on the Alley over there when they were done.

They actually didn't get her equipment on Diagon Alley. Mum said there were some things that you definitely wanted to go to the expensive, high-quality stores for, and potions ingredients was one of them — the inside of that apothecary might have looked kind of creepy and grimy, but they actually sold high-quality, uncontaminated ingredients, you didn't want to go to cheap apothecaries. (If there was something mixed in with an ingredient you didn't know about, or it was spoiled somehow, putting it in a potion could end very badly.) But there were other things that it was better to go to workshops for, where the things were actually made. Most of the time, the shops in places like Diagon Alley bought their stock from these workshops in the first place, but they were more expensive, because the shop added a mark-up — also, sometimes the workshops kept the best quality things back, to sell on their own. And if nothing they had in stock was exactly what you wanted, you could make custom orders too, which wasn't an option in the shops.

So, workshops were better, and they didn't even have to go that far out of their way — there were a whole bunch of them a few streets off Diagon Alley this way. Mum said potions could be very sensitive, so when buying equipment you wanted it to be made specifically for potions. Briefly stopping outside of a workshop, she pointed at a couple little signs put in a corner of the window, each with a logo and a little bit of text printed in English and Cambrian: one was from the potioneers' guild, saying this was an approved maker of equipment, and another from the Ministry's Department of Commerce and Trade, saying this place was a part of some partnership of something something. Any place you were buying stuff from should have both signs, the first one to make sure it was good quality stuff, and the second one so the Ministry would come down on them hard if they sold you something bad and you got hurt. (In exchange for making things for the Ministry, they also agreed to be responsible if things went wrong, kind of like insurance?) Once that was all explained, they stepped inside.

The place was kind of a mess, with different tables and cabinets and stuff packed in the shopfront (the workshop part was in the back), stocked with cauldrons and tubs and tins and knives and spoons and stuff seemingly at random. Things must be organised somehow, but Violet couldn't really tell how. They found a pewter and a brass cauldron of the right size — there were different kinds of pewter and brass, different mixes of metal, Mum said the ones they got were best for classes but it was too complicated to explain why — even though the school list actually said she only needed the pewter one. Mum just made a face at that, and said they'd be getting both anyway, and that she'd probably figure out why pretty quickly. They also got a set of scales, also in bronze — when Violet pointed out that the school list said brass scales, not bronze, Mum rolled her eyes, said it must be a misprint because they'd meant bronze. That seemed like a funny mistake to make, but Violet didn't argue about it. Mum had been making potions forever, she must know what she was talking about.

They then got a few different sizes of stirring spoon and knives and long forks, one of each type in iron and bronze. The iron wasn't actually pure iron, Mum said, it was steel but in potions jargon it was just called iron — it was still bad for elves to touch, though, so she should be polite and put her own things away so Nola didn't have to try to pick up after her. (This kind of bronze was also bad for elves, but it was less bad than steel, the steel would burn Nola's hands just touching it, woah.) Potions instructions would tell her whether she was supposed to use the pewter or bronze cauldron or the iron or bronze implements, be sure to use whichever one the instructions called for. Everything that touched the potion, and the ingredients during preparation, counted as an ingredient you were putting in, so it mattered what equipment you used — if you used bronze or silver when the instructions called for pewter or iron, it could blow up in your face, so yeah, be careful about that.

Violet had brewed some potions already, of course, but just simple easy things, nothing that was going to blow up in your face. That sounded kind of scary...

Anyway, after paying for everything, they took out her trunk, unshrunk it and packed in her new things before shrinking it again and tucking it into her bag — that really was very convenient. Next they went to a glass-maker, Mum again pointing out the signs from the guild and the Ministry in the window. Glassware, when made proper, was alchemically neutral, so it didn't count as an ingredient you were adding to things. It was the best stuff to store potions in for that reason — potions were almost always kept in glass bottles — and they also made stirring spoons and knives and stuff out of glass, for when you were making very sensitive potions that couldn't take the extra ingredient. Cutting boards for potions were usually made out of a special kind of glass for the same reason, which they also sold here.

Better than glass, if you could get it, was rock crystal. Glass sometimes had impurities in it, and it wasn't actually entirely solid, but very slowly moving around all the time, and it could also do badly with temperature changes that might happen when you were doing potions stuff. Crystal was a kind of super clear rock (like quartz or something), which was better for all of those reasons — it was a pain to find enough of the stuff and get it into the right shape to use in potions, but mages learned how to make the stuff with alchemy ages ago, which solved those problems. They could even blow it and shape the alchemised stuff like glass, which was very cool! Even the man-made alchemised stuff was more expensive than potions-quality glass, but it was worth it, since it wouldn't crack on you and would last pretty much forever.

They picked out a cutting board and some stirring spoons and knives — the spoons and the knives made out of crystal were transparent and sparkly, almost like diamonds, it was very pretty — but the shop didn't have enough of the phials made up and ready. So they put in an order for them — they might not be ready before Hogwarts started, but if they came late Mum would bring them over for her, it was fine. The crystal spoons and knives weren't actually on her list, but Mum said she would need them for more sensitive potions later, so they might as well get them now and save them until then. But yeah, that was all the potions stuff they needed already — she might need more advanced equipment for, like, distillation and stuff when she was in later years, but there was no point in getting any of that right now.

And that was it, that was her whole school list. Which meant it was time to look at cats, yay!

The pet store was back on Diagon Alley, right across from the ice cream shop — they hardly ever went there in person, but Violet knew Fortescue's was where Mum ordered the ice cream they had at home. The shop was darker inside than Violet expected, it took her eyes a couple seconds to adjust. And also it was smelly, and loud, birds squeaking and squawking and something in here screeching, which was kind of annoying, but the smell was really really bad, actually, Violet dug out her smell-blocking amulet again. The shop was bigger on the inside than the outside — lots of magic places did that — and it was packed, rows of cages and tanks and stuff set in aisles so close together there was barely enough room for two people to squeeze past each other. They had all kinds of stuff in here, there were frogs and toads over there, and rows of bird cages hanging from the ceiling, ravens quietly watching people walking around, more colourful birds over there sleeping, some squawking or rattling at the bars (not happy to be locked up?), a cage with rats crawling on and fighting each other over a little shiny marble, a tank over there had bright orange snails inching around, leaving gross-looking slime on the glass, and there were bunnies! Those were cute...

Oh wow! In a cage close to the counter was a tank, inside of it a big tortoise — like, bigger than Violet's head — or at least it kind of looked like a tortoise? It had six legs instead of four, and there were big pointy claws on its feet. And, like turtle shells were made out of a grid of little six-sided shapes, this one was too, but instead of bone or whatever turtle shells were made out of the grid was gemstones — big things set close together into the tortoise's back, green and blue and yellow, sparkling in the light, "It's so pretty!" Violet said, leaning against the glass of the cage. She twitched as her hands touched it, sizzling against her skin, she stepped back again. Some kind of wards to protect the tortoise, maybe? "What is it?"

"That's a fire crab," Mum said, leaning over Violet's shoulder. "They're quite rare, due to muggles' discovery of the islands in the Pacific leading to the destruction of their habitat. Almost all of the living fire crabs in the world are raised in captivity."

"...Oh." That was sad. "Um, um, um, are those real stones? do they g-grow like that?"

"Yes, they're real gemstones — they're produced through a natural form of bioalchemy, as self-defence. Fire crab shells are very hard, almost impossible to open without magic. Their magicalness makes them live longer, and their shells mean they are almost immune to any predators — even in the wild, fire crabs can live for hundreds of years, no problem."

Woah. Violet had heard of fire crabs before, in passing, she didn't know they were so cool. "They weren't on the approved pet list, though."

Mum let out a little huff of laughter. "I know they're pretty, darling, but you can't have one. You need a licence to own them in Britain, and the Ministry isn't going to give you one for no reason. Also, they're very hot — that magic you felt on the tank is to keep it from burning everything around, or shooting fireballs out into the shop. They're not safe to keep at home."

Well, darn. And it was so pretty, too...

Violet was still staring at the pretty sparkling fire crab when Dora suddenly appeared, bonking into her and grabbing onto her arm. "Hi! I was wondering when you two would show up. You're looking for a cat, right? Come on, they're back here..."

There was a whole cat row toward the back of the shop, cages stacked on top of each other higher than Violet could easily see inside, dozens and dozens of them. There were big cats and little cats, in all kinds of different colours — mostly in black or white or reddish-orange or yellow or brown (or some mix of those colours), but you got some funny-looking ones too, shades of blue here and there that Violet didn't think was normal. Some were asleep, or sitting there curled up and lazily watching Violet and Dora with their big shiny eyes, almost glowing in the dimly-lit shop, others were scratching at things in their cages, or playing around batting at dangling rope toys. There were a few big cages that had a bunch of kittens jumping around and playing with each other, the smallest ones really clumsy, tripping over their feet or bumping into things, silly little balls of fluff, they were so cute!

Violet didn't really know much about cats? Like, she didn't know which would be a good one to get. One that was nice and fluffy, of course — there were ones in here that had really short fur, barely any at all — and not one that was super ugly either (even if thinking that to herself made Violet feel a little guilty). But beyond that she didn't really know. How were you supposed to take care of cats, anyway?

Mum said, mostly you didn't — cats were pretty good at taking care of themselves. The whole reason people started keeping them around was to stop pests from getting into food stores, they could survive just on rats and whatever else. And not just normal pests either, they could hunt magical pests too, like sparkmites and doxies and stuff. (Dora said she heard cats could sometimes even hunt boggarts, and other demons and stuff, and Mum didn't say she was wrong.) They could also hunt for themselves if you let them outside, but then you had to be careful about predators that might be out there, and give them potions now and then so they didn't get ill, or infested with fleas. If you were keeping them inside, you needed to have somewhere they could go, and if there weren't pests around you had to feed them, but that wasn't complicated, you could get cat food on both the muggle and magical sides just fine. You should give them some attention now and then so they didn't get lonely, some toys and stuff if they couldn't hunt things so they didn't get bored, and that was it, really — cats were much easier pets than dogs, they were better at taking care of themselves.

Okay, good. If they could take care of themselves some, Violet didn't have to worry as much about messing it up. She knew she could be...kind of airheaded sometimes — she forgot she was going to do things sometimes, or could get caught up in drawing or painting or embroidering and completely lose track of time, look up and it was hours later. And she was going to have classes and stuff, so there would be distractions. She didn't want to, like, forget to feed it or something...

Mum pointed out the little signs on each of the cages, with information about the cats in there. How old they were, some of them had names if the cat had one already — Mum said magical cats often would be able to recognise their name, if they heard it enough — and what breed they were, sometimes including what fraction kneazle they were. Kneazles were a magical animal that was basically a magical cat that came to be naturally, like the difference between mages and normal people — they were closely related enough that kneazles and normal cats could have kittens with each other just fine. Half- or quarter-kneazles were pretty common pets, though there were also magical cats that didn't have any kneazle blood (or at least not that anyone knew about), cats changed with blood alchemy instead. There were some normal cats in the shop, but most of them were at least one-eighth kneazle or were some other magical breed. Magical cats were smarter, and lived longer, and were less likely to fall ill, and were immune to some things that might be a problem in magical homes, like doxy venom, so they made better pets for mages specifically, Mum said she probably shouldn't get a non-magical one. All of that made sense, but that didn't help Violet pick one — that still left most of the cats...

And then she found a section of pure kneazles, and a big cage full of kneazle kittens. She didn't know they weren't just normal cats right away, though — she just saw the big cage and knew there would be kittens in it, leaning up close to peer inside. Some of the other kitten cages still had the mums in with them, but this one didn't, nine or ten kittens or so running around in there without any adults around. They were mostly black and a steely blue-ish grey colour, which glinted a little silvery when it caught the light right, it was pretty! and some of them had white bits on their bellies up to their chins, sometimes their paws, but only some of them. They were a little funny-looking, fluffy little fuzzballs with oversized heads and paws, their ears and eyes especially looking too big compared to the rest of them, Violet guessed kittens grew into those? Also, their ears and their tails had little black tufts on the ends — the tails kind of made them look like tiny lions or whatever, she guessed, but the ears were funny.

One of the kittens reared back, sticking its bum up in the air, and then wiggled, paws shuffling and its tufted tail wavering, and then pounced at one of the other kittens — they both lost their balance, flopping clumsily over the wood chips filling the bottom of the cage, Violet couldn't help giggling a little.

"Well, look at that," Uncle Ted said, startling her a little. (Distracted by the kittens, she didn't notice anyone was there.) Leaning over the cage next to her, he stuck a finger through the bars — the kittens hopped away, surprised, giving his finger suspicious looks. He let out a little huff, amused. "Kneazle kittens. You don't see that every day."

"These are kneazles?"

"Yep," he said, tapping the sign on the cage, "full-blooded kneazles. They don't normally sell kneazles until they're a bit older — breeders prefer to get at least one good litter out of them first. Cassie, they have kneazle kittens over here."

"Do they really?" Mum and Dora had been looking at some of the ferrets and things over that way, she came up behind Violet, setting her hands on her shoulders and leaning close over her head. "Ah, so they do — I wonder what these are doing here. The breeder ran out of space, perhaps?"

"Must be. I can't imagine these will last here long, they... Ah yes, they were only moved here for sale two days ago," Uncle Ted said, pointing at the sign.

"That would make sense — kittens don't deal well with being locked up for long periods at a time. And they would sell out quickly too, of course, you hardly ever see full-blooded kneazle kittens for sale."

Violet was only half-listening, distracted by the kittens. A couple of them were hiding behind things, nervously watching Uncle Ted's finger, or crouched and ready to pounce, but others had gone right back to playing, ignoring them. One of them, one of the ones with the white patch on its belly and up to its little chin and on its big paws — like little mittens! — was calmly sitting up and staring right back at Violet. Curious, maybe? The way it sometimes leaned one way or the other, tilting its head, stretching up a little, like it was trying to see better.

It had really big bright silver eyes, glittering a little in the dim light...a lot like Master Ollivander's, actually. "Um, can c-cats be Seers?" She knew silver eyes didn't always mean Seer, Susan didn't have silver eyes either, but...

Even though they were kind of having their own conversation up there, Mum stopped to answer Violet's question right away. "All cats have a form of magesight — not just domestic cats, but all felines, even wildcats and lions and tigers and the like." Wow, Violet didn't know that, that was neat! "Some cats with kneazle blood have a form of the Sight as well, but just how perceptive they are is hard to say. It is difficult to communicate with animals, after all, we're not certain how much they understand. Do you like these little ones?"

"Mhm! They're so, so, they're, they're so pretty!"

"That they are. That silvery colour in their fur is quite striking — I've seen it in full-grown kneazles before, very pretty."

"Yeah! C-c-can w– can, can– ih– c-c-c—" Violet cut herself off with a groan, stupid voice not working...

Mum kissed the top of her head, her fingers squeezing on her shoulders a little. "I'm not saying no, but you should think about it. Full-blooded kneazles can be difficult."

"How?"

"Cats are smart animals to begin with, and very independent-minded. If an animal is smart enough, it can choose to do whatever it wants, and ignore you if it feels like it — sometimes people say cats are too stupid to follow commands, but truly they're smart enough to decide they don't want to. Kneazles are even smarter than normal cats. They aren't as smart as a person, but they're a lot closer to it than you might expect. And being that smart means they're more complicated — they're going to have their own opinions about things, and people, and what they want to do. Their feelings are deep enough that you have to take care that they're safe and happy, much as you might a person. Remember what Shannon said about what can happen if someone is treated badly for too long."

...Right, that made a lot of sense, Violet got what Mum was saying. "So, it's a bad idea then?"

"I didn't say that. Kneazles being smarter means they also make better, more interesting companions — they can have more complicated relationships with people than normal cats. They also live longer, over fifty years in some cases, a good three times as long as a normal cat might. If they like you enough, kneazles will also take care of you just as you take care of them — don't be surprised if one day a pet kneazle tries to remind you to eat, or notices you're falling ill even before you do. I won't stop you from getting one, just keep in mind that they take more attention than normal cats, especially when they're still only kittens."

Violet thought about it, pouting to herself a little. She had been worried about taking care of a cat in the first place, because she could forget things sometimes — she wasn't sure if it was a great idea to get a cat that'd be even harder than other cats. But at the same time, Muime had joked-but-not-really-joked that she might want practice for taking care of little sisters later on, and a more difficult cat would be better practice? And, a pet that might remind her to do things (like eat, or sleep) when she got too into a thing wasn't a bad idea either, and also one that lived longer? If fifty was three times how long a normal cat lived, that would be, um, fifteen plus...sixteen and two-thirds? Yeah. Anyway, that might seem like a long time, Violet was only barely eleven, but she was going to live for a long time — even if she weren't a metamorph, mages lived longer than normal people too — so that was actually less time than it seemed. Fifty years was still going to be a small fraction of Violet's life, especially if she ended up living basically forever, but it was better than sixteen and two-thirds.

(Violet was pretty sure she was going to be really sad when her cat died — which wasn't a reason not to get one, just like it wasn't a reason to not make friends.)

Also they were super cute! With the little tufts on their ears and tails, and the shiny dark silvery fur, and the one staring up at her with its big bright silver eyes and little mittens...

"Um...can we try? Like, see if one will l-l-llike me..."

"Of course, darling. There's a room over there where you can get acquainted before picking one — where did that woman get off to..."

Mum came back after a minute with an older woman in plain black robes and thick-framed glasses. She double-checked that they really did want to say hi to the kneazle kittens — she warned them that kneazles could be temperamental, and kittens could be super playful, so they might get scratched up a little bit — before fiddling with something around the bottom of the cage, and then tapping it once with her wand. The whole big cage with all the kittens just floated up into the air, some of the kittens ducking down to hide under the blankets and things in their cage, letting out little startled squeaks, or pressing up against the bars to peer out. The shopkeeper person led the way through the narrow hallways, the kitten cage floating after her, waving them in through a door in the back wall. The room in here, rather smaller than the shop floor, was covered in thick carpet instead of the tile they had out there, with random chew-toys and ropes and balls with feathers and stuff sticking out of them, boxes of what Violet guessed were food on shelves up high on the walls. A place to let the animals out to play now and then, she guessed.

The shopkeeper gently set down the cage, before turning back to them. Kneazle kittens especially could be skittish with strangers, and feeling surrounded — did they need to have all four of them in here? Dora pouted, but went back out through the door anyway, Uncle Ted going with her. The woman closed the door, gave the handle a good tug to make sure it was latched, before telling Mum and Violet some rules about handling the kittens. There were a few questions first about whether they were ill or had allergies or whatever, and then a short lecture about not groping at the kittens, let them come to you if they want to. Grabbing kittens when they don't want to be grabbed is a good way to get your hands all clawed up, and they probably weren't going to want to go home with you if you were mean to them the first time you met, which all made sense.

She also mentioned that they were tiny, so they shouldn't scare them by drawing attention to how big they were, or moving in a threatening way or anything. At that part, Mum decided she should be smaller, shrinking down to Violet's size in steps so she could transfigure her clothes as she went — the shopkeeper lady gave her a very funny look. Violet sat down on the floor, where she'd be small (Mum sat down too), and the woman opened the cage.

The kittens didn't come pouring out of the cage right away — a couple of them were even still hiding under things in there, a little freaked out by the cage being moved. After some seconds, one of them poked its head through the door of the cage, looking around with big eyes, its ears swivelling around making the little fluffy tufts at the tips flutter a little, before tentatively hopping down onto the carpet.

And then there was a little rattling noise, as the shopkeeper picked a tin up off of a shelf, and the kittens suddenly came flying out of the cage. All of them tried to move at once, the door wasn't wide enough, some of them getting stuck in there, tripping over each other as they ran around the cage toward the shopkeeper lady, one of them even losing his balance and falling sideways on his bum — Violet couldn't help giggling a little, silly... "Yeah, come get 'em, you little fuzzballs." The shopkeeper scooped a handful of treats out of the tin and tossed them out across the carpet, the kittens chasing after the little reddish-brown pellets, pouncing to pin them against the floor, one kitten accidentally kicked his and went chasing after it again, one kitten's claws got stuck in the carpet, nearly making him flip tail-over head when one paw stopped and everything else kept moving...

By the time they were done with their treats, they didn't go back to hide in their cage, starting to wander around and explore the room. Well, most of them, anyway — a few were pawing at the hem of the shopkeeper's robes, letting out these tiny little soft mew noises, begging for more treats. (The shopkeeper just put the tin away again, which Violet didn't know if she'd be able to do, they were being so cute and pathetic...) Some started batting at the balls sitting around, sending them rolling across the carpet — they had little bells in them, the ringing making their ears perk up, bums wiggling in the air before bounding after them, pouncing and rolling around on landing — some just doing a circle around the room and sniffing at everything or stretching and clawing at the walls — the carpet actually went up the first couple feet of wall, Violet guessed for the cats to scratch on. Some started chasing each other around, meowing and hissing. They kind of looked and sounded like they might be hurting each other, biting and clawing, and some of the hissing or growling was surprisingly loud for such little things, but the shopkeeper didn't look worried...

The kittens mostly ignored Mum and Violet, stopping to watch them for a few seconds now and then but not paying them any mind besides that. It was a couple minutes at least before any decided to check them out. One of the ones with the white patch up to his chin, and the little mittens — the same one who was watching Violet through the cage bars earlier, maybe — was inching closer. Watching her with big silver unblinking eyes, he'd shuffle a few steps closer, and then crouch down, low to the floor, wait for a few seconds before shuffling a little closer, wait, a little closer...

Violet held a hand out in his direction — he twitched, shrinking back a little — and let her fingers hang in the air. After a few seconds more of staring, he slowly walked up, and sniffed at her fingers. She must not smell scary, because he seemed to relax a little, his tail loosening up. He kept sniffing at her fingers, here and here and over here, Violet biting her lip — the whiskers kind of tickled, but she didn't want to startle him by laughing...

After a bit of sniffing, he decided to move closer, padding up to sniff at her skirt. Slowly, so she didn't surprise him too bad, Violet brought her well-sniffed hand closer, gently rubbed along his back — he went stiff for a second, but then relaxed again, went back to sniffing at her skirt. He was so soft! Like, different from the wilderfolk cats she'd pet before, kind of fluffy? Those cats were all grown-ups, and their fur was smoother and flatter, but this kitten seemed poofier, and super super soft. He was also tiny, like, hips to shoulders his back wasn't much longer than her hand, and she could feel the bones of his spine through the fluff, feeling all fragile. And he was almost vibrating with energy, little breaths in and out, she could feel his little fluttery heartbeat, and he moved all quick and twitchy, like it was hard for him to sit still, super excited.

He kept sniffing at her skirt for a bit, a couple times turning his head around to sniff at her wrist, big silvery eyes looking up at hers, and then he hopped up into her lap, "Oh! Hi!" She was sitting cross-legged, the weight of the kitten pushing the fabric of her skirt down to make a little bowl out of her legs — trying to walk, he missed one of her legs and went flopping against her skirt, scrambling a little to find solid ground again, Violet couldn't help giggling. Leaning over her lap, "Hi, you," she reached up to scritch behind his ears, the kitten turning his head and leaning up into it a little...which made him lose his balance again, silly boy.

Violet could feel him purring, little vibrations against her fingers — she realised she was smiling when she noticed the stretching feeling on her face.

It seemed like the first kitten deciding she was safe was a signal to all the others. Over the next couple minutes, the rest of the kittens started coming over to check her out, sniffing at her skirt or her hands, hopping into her lap, sometimes crawling over a kitten who was already there, and suddenly she was being swarmed by all the kittens. They never stayed still for long, crawling over her lap, or walking in little rings around her, rubbing against her legs and her hips and her back as they went around, leaning into her hands for scritches. Since there was only so much Violet and too many kittens, they sometimes ended up crawling over each other or getting in each other's way, sometimes it broke into little fights, "nooo, be nice," she'd reach into the fight and break them up. Sometimes that meant she got scratched at, but it wasn't so bad — their claws were little too, poking into her skin like tiny needles. One flopped onto his back and grabbed at her wrist with both paws, gnawing at her knuckles and staring up at her with his big kitten eyes. And then he was licking at her fingers, heeeyy, that tickled...

She let out a little surprised squeak as a kitten poked his head under her skirt and burrowed inside, grabbing at his bum still sticking out. "No, bad," she whined, her voice coming out a little breathless, giggling. Leaning over to do that, the kitten in her lap reared up onto his back paws, placing her front paws on her arm, and let out a little mew right in her face, "Oh hi!" She let go of the kitten digging under her skirt (she was wearing pants today anyway) to scritch along this kitten's back, and he licked her cheek, aaaahhhh...

"This is odd behaviour, isn't it?" she only half-heard Mum say, not really paying attention, there were kittens!

"It is unusual." She glanced up, the shopkeeper was standing nearby, curiously watching the kittens crawl all over Violet. "Congratulations, Miss Black — I think they like the smell of your magic. Kneazles are naturally drawn to some people, we're not sure why."

...The fairy magic might have something to do with it, but she couldn't tell some random pet store person about that.

Violet ended up laying on her back on the floor, kittens sniffing around here or there and crawling on her. Mostly they were just being super cute, all tiny and soft and sweet, but sometimes it really tickled! Like, one was nuzzling around up on her neck under her ear, nnnnooooo, and one— Sometimes one of the kittens would do this thing, where they'd press down on her with their front paws, one and then the other back and forth, purring loud enough she could actually hear it. (Most of the purrs were quiet enough that she could only feel it when she was petting them.) Anyway, now and then one of the kittens would explore around under her skirt, which she'd stopped trying to keep them out of since it wasn't really hurting anything, once a couple getting into a fight through the fabric from opposite sides — which she did stop, because she didn't want them to tear anything — and when one kitten started doing that thing with their paws on her thigh it really tickled, ssstoo-ooop...

It was hard to talk, all out of breath from giggling and her mouth busy smiling, and also the kittens were distracting, but she managed it after a couple tries. Pointing at the kitten doing the thing with their paws on her stomach — which was a little uncomfortable more from his claws poking through her dress than the pressure — she asked, "What, why do they k-keep doing that?"

"That's called kneading," the shopkeeper lady said. "Kittens do it when they're nursing, to get milk from their mum. It means they like you."

"Oh." Okay, cool! It was a little uncomfortable, with the claws, but now that she knew that, it was cute, actually...

They kittens didn't stay crawling all over her all the time, after checking her out for a while they went back to exploring the room or playing with the balls and stuff or chasing each other around. Though they would come back to her now and then, rubbing against her side or stopping for some scritches, mewing at her and kneading at her leg, before skipping off again to do something else. The shopkeeper lady thought it was weird that they liked her so much, that didn't normally happen, apparently? Both with kittens in general, and kneazles could be extra picky about people, so.

Violet was just going to feel special about that, then.

They were so cute, like, scritches as they kneaded at her legs or her stomach, licking her hands or her face a couple times, it almost hurt, the pressure of giggles in her throat, some weird fluttery feeling in her chest she didn't know what it was, she wanted one! Like, a lot, actually. There was a talk with the shopkeeper about kneazles being more difficult than normal cats, which was pretty much the same as what Mum already told her before. But also besides that, kittens were more work, at least for a little while — you had to give them a lot of attention, so they didn't get bored or lonely, and also they took more food, because they grew up really really fast. She said that bringing one to Hogwarts with her was fine, as long as she made sure to go back to her dorm room often, to make sure the kitten was okay, play with them for a few minutes at least. Also, for safety reasons, she shouldn't let them just wander around wherever they liked, Mum said the elves could do something to make sure pets stayed in one place if they were asked, so, she just had to remember to do that...

Also, roommates might be a problem — only Slytherins didn't have roommates, and Mum didn't think she was going to be in Slytherin — but they were more likely to hide from her roommates than, like, make trouble for them or anything, so. Tell them not to be mean to her kitten and it should probably be fine.

They would be leaving with a box of kitten food that would last a while (and also some toys and stuff, of course), and the shopkeeper lady would be giving Mum a recipe to make stuff the kitten could eat themselves. Of course the stuff you could buy was fine, but fresh stuff was always best, since they wouldn't be able to hunt where they were going — though often more expensive than pre-made stuff, but they didn't have to worry about that part. (Mum said they'd be giving the recipe to Nola, because it involved a lot of raw meat, Violet didn't want to touch it.) That was easy to set up, she could throw all that together real quick. The only thing Violet had to do was pick a kitten.

But she didn't know if she could do that! They were all so adorable...

(Unfortunately she couldn't just take all of them.)

The decision was kind of made for her — the shopkeeper lady said one of the kittens liked her more than the others did. Violet couldn't really tell, since they all looked sort of similar and they were all moving around all the time, but. It was the one who happened to be taking a turn in Violet's lap right now, flopped over onto his side and kneading at her stomach, Violet scritching at his ears while they talked. This was one of the ones with the white streak on his belly up to his chin, and the white mittens on the front paws (not the back ones, though), and big bright silvery eyes, and— Oh, she, not he, now that the woman pointed it out Violet could see that was obvious. Anyway, Violet thought it was the same kitten who was watching her when they were still in the cage, and the same one who came over to check her out first. The shopkeeper lady said she didn't have to pick this one, but it made sense to pick the one that liked her best, so.

Also, she was being such a sweetie, laying here and purring and looking up at Violet with her big silver eyes, she was sooo cuuute...

The shopkeeper kind of jokingly asked if they wouldn't consider taking two kittens — when they were still small it was best to have a playmate, so they could entertain themselves some of the time without you (and also obviously shop people wanted to sell more stuff) — and Mum surprised her by saying, yeah, they'd take this one Mum was playing with too. (Mum had one of the rope toys, dangling it up in the air for the kitten to jump up and grab onto, over and over — sometimes once it caught on Mum would try to pull the rope away, the kitten holding on hard enough its back paws left the floor, hanging by its front claws and its teeth.) Violet would bring one kitten to school with her and Dora would 'bring' the other — they were only allowed one pet, so having one be Dora's pet was cheating to get both there — just for the first year while they were still tiny, and then next year Violet would bring one to school and the other would stay home. She didn't really follow why Mum thought it was a good idea, something about ambient magic and pests and babies, it was magic stuff and over her head, but the important thing was that they were getting two kittens today! Yay!

From a closet in here, the shopkeeper lady got a carry cage for the kittens — the frame in there somewhere was covered with rope, let go a little frizzy, Violet guessed so the kittens could scratch at it and stuff. She made a lean-to with some kind of paperboard or something, put a blanket in there. And then they just had to get the kittens inside...which seemed kind of hard, actually? They wanted to get the two specific kittens to go in this cage, but the rest of them were supposed to go back in the other cage, and stay here. But the shopkeeper lady was used to doing this stuff, she knew what she was doing. There was a spot at the back of kittens' necks where they'd kind of freeze up if you squeezed them there — so their mums could move them around easy, apparently? — so she grabbed the kitten in Violet's lap and gently set her in the cage, dropping in a treat she'd sneakily palmed to keep her in there. Mum led the second kitten — another girl, but no white patch on this one — over to the cage with the rope toy, and kind of tricked her in there, the shopkeeper making sure they stayed with another couple treats, closing the door while they were eating. The rest of the kittens were baited back to their cage with the treats, all came running at the sound of the tin rattling, and soon they were all back in there too. That went pretty smoothly, actually.

They went back out into the shop, the shopkeeper lady returning the big kitten cage where it belonged, and then they went up to the counter. It took her a couple minutes to put together their box of stuff for the kittens, while she was doing that Violet focussing on the kittens in the rope cage — they didn't seem to be super happy about being stuck in there, moving around to look out of this side or that, letting out little pathetic mews. Violet stuck a finger in the cage, her kitten coming over to sniff at it, turning so she could awkwardly scritch behind her ears with a finger. It's okay, don't be scared, we're just going home...

Dora seemed a little amused that she was going to 'have' a pet this year, but she agreed to play along.

Before too much longer, the shopkeeper lady finished putting their box of stuff together, Mum paid for everything, and they were walking out again. And they had kittens now, yay! They did not like being moved around — Uncle Ted was carrying the cage, and trying to move slowly and evenly to not shake them around too much — both of them were snuggled tight together under the little lean-to. Violet was hovering close by, kind of worried, even though she knew they'd be fine, and they'd be home soon anyway...

Except Mum said they had one more stop to make first. Violet couldn't think of anything, she was pretty sure she had her whole list? It wasn't something on her list, it turned out — it was a surprise. She half-expected they were getting ice cream, but no, they went right by Fortescue's. They reached one of the spots on the Alley they could apparate out, Mum paused to charm the kittens to sleep. She didn't think being apparated would hurt the kittens, but it was kind of scary, so she thought it was better that the little girls not be awake for that, which made sense. (Violet didn't like apparating either.) Once the kittens were safely asleep, Mum took the cage from Ted, then held out an arm, telling all of them to grab on.

Violet was pulled through a moment of squeezy-twisty apparation, her feet thumping back onto the ground — after taking a second to shake off the nauseated dizziness, she looked around, blinking. They were in a village, a magical village, little wooden houses in different shapes and decorated with paint and beads and colourful curtains, some of them with gardens very busy with vegetables and fruit bushes or trees and stuff, the narrow curvy street made out of old, worn brick. It looked like they were in the middle of nowhere, the hills hugging around the valley only trees or grasses or bare rock, cut off from whatever might be on the other side. It was a bit cooler than it'd been a second ago, must be further north, but she didn't recognise the street they were on, didn't know—

She suddenly realised where they were when she spotted the huge Castle way off over that way, sprawled out on top of a cliff. That was Hogwarts, she'd seen it enough times (mostly visiting Albus) to easily recognise it now.

"We're in Hogsmeade?" Dora asked. "What are we doing here?"

"A surprise. It's this one right here." Mum walked up to a gate nearby — still carrying the cage, the kittens silent, must have been a really good sleeping charm — unlatched it and stepped into the garden of the house they appeared in front of. This one didn't look special at all, the garden even seemed a little neglected, grass speckled with loose wildflowers and some currant bushes sprawling out all uneven and in need of a good pruning. The house was pretty plain too, wood sides and slate shingles, rather small, nothing special-looking about it. "Come on in, I'll let you through the wards as you step across."

...Let them in the wards? So, this was Mum's house? Not sure why she got another house, but okay. Dora skipped through first, Violet coming through right after her — there was a bit of hard sharp scratchiness against her skin, the wards not happy about her intruding, but it vanished after a couple seconds as Mum let her in.

It didn't take them very long to take a tour quick through the whole house, there wasn't much to it. A cosy little sitting room, all comfy-looking with orange-painted walls and thick fuzzy brown carpet, with a fireplace and some bookshelves on the walls — no actual sitting room though, missing the furniture, the bookshelves looking very empty. There was a small, simple, slightly cramped-feeling kitchen, the appliances all magic and very old-fashioned-looking — there were actually pots and pans and dishes already, this room ready to use (except for there not being anything in the pantry). There were two little bedrooms — or what were obviously supposed to be bedrooms, there weren't beds in them yet — and a single toilet with, like, a changing room area, with a sink and some mirrors and a closet and stuff. There wasn't a shower or a bath in the house, which wasn't a big surprise — there was a public bath somewhere in Hogsmeade, a lot of the houses didn't have private baths and everyone went there instead. And that was really it, that was the whole house. Besides that, there was just a small cellar under the kitchen, enchanted to store cold things in, and a single little room for an attic, in the middle of the house. (The roof was angled, tallest in the middle, the only spot there was enough space for a proper room.) The place was very plain, very little decoration of any kind and barely any furniture at all, super empty.

Mum didn't start explaining until they got all the way around the house, back in the sitting room at the beginning. "Do you remember a long time ago, when Shannon said it might be good for you to have a place to get away to if you were feeling overwhelmed at Hogwarts?"

...Not really, no. She remembered Shannon had had some concerns about Violet going to a boarding school, but she couldn't remember exactly what they'd talked about. But she did see how, if she were in a bad mood, having roommates all around might be a bit much, so. "Um, sure?"

Mum reached into her bag, pulled out a key, and held it out to Violet. "Here."

"Oh!" She hadn't gotten where Mum was going with that, but it seemed really obvious in retrospect. Taking the key, Violet just blinked down at it, feeling a little... She didn't know. Buying a house seemed like a silly thing to do just to give Violet somewhere to run away to if she felt like. But then, she guessed Mum was stupid rich, so...

"Once you're Sorted, I'll write to the head of your House, and tell them you have permission to come down here whenever you need to. We can make sure it gets furnished over the next couple weeks — I think we should be able to just move things over from Ancient House, though I'll have you test the bedsheets, at least." Because Violet could be picky about fabric sometimes, she meant. "You can keep this house when you're older, if you like, when you want somewhere quiet to stay that isn't with your mother."

Violet frowned. "Why would I want that?"

Mum just smiled at her, looking like she thought something was funny, but she didn't say anything. "If there's anything you want to do with the place, replacing anything or repainting or whatever, just say so and we can look into it."

"No, it's fine! I, I, I, it– I'm only surprised is all? I didn't think you g-got a house."

"Yes, well. It serves multiple purposes." Mum pulled a second key out of her bag, and held it out toward Dora.

Dora didn't take it right away, just staring at it with one eyebrow raised. Seeming a little annoyed, Uncle Ted muttered, "Cassie..."

Still looking at Dora, like she was ignoring Uncle Ted, Mum said, "The Auror apprenticeship doesn't pay much, and rents anywhere decent can take a hell of a lot out of it. Besides, I figure you'd also like your own place — or at least somewhere to bring guests that isn't your parents' house."

"Well, fuck me," Dora muttered. Reaching up to take the key — she was still Violet-sized at the moment — she said, "Yeah, I was thinking I'd have to...I don't know, maybe split a place with a roommate or something? But that isn't— This is great, Aunt Cassie, you're the best." She gave Mum a tight-looking hug, Mum patting her head with the arm that didn't end up squeezed against her side.

"We were going to handle that, Cassie." Uncle Ted still sounded a little annoyed, the words coming out halfway to a sigh. It didn't look like he was going to say no — especially since it was kind of already done, Dora had tucked the key away in a pocket and everything — but he clearly wasn't happy about it.

Mum just shrugged at him. "And now you don't have to. Don't take it personally, Ted, I really am just killing as many birds as I can with the single stone. Violet needed somewhere to go anyway, and I suspect I'm going to be using the property as an object lesson later down the road — managing the finances and contracts associated with a modest property like this seems like good practice for Violet as she gets older."

Violet should have guessed Mum was going to find a way to turn this into one of her grown-up stuff lessons. And, for some reason money stuff always reminded her of Vernon complaining about things in the business section of the paper in the morning...

"Assuming Violet is okay with Dora hanging around, of course."

"Oh!" she gasped, perking up a little — she didn't realise until right this second that that might be up to her. "Yeah, that's fine! Dora ca– Dora ca— She can stay here, after leaving Hogwarts."

"Yeah! We're gonna be roommates!"

"Yeah!"

"Hope you're okay with me bringing people around."

Violet frowned, confused — why wouldn't she be okay with Dora bringing people around? Unless they were mean people, she guessed, but she couldn't really imagine Dora being friends with anyone if they were mean. The only thing she could think of that she might be talking about was, "Do you mean sex friends?"

Dora snorted "Yes, I mean sex friends — you're adorable, you know that?"

"People tell me. Wait!" she chirped, bouncing on her toes a little. "I, I, I, earlier, I was thinking, with b-b-babies coming, it might be bad to have, you know, paint and stuff around, so I, I, c-c-can use this for a studio like?"

Smirking down at her, her eyes dancing a little, Mum said, "It's your house, darling — you can do whatever you like with it."

...That was weird, that Mum just bought Violet a house. It was partly for Dora too, yes, but still.

But she should figure out how they were going to do the studio thing though! The only extra room they had was the one in the attic, but that was kinda too small for what she needed for a painting space. Oh! She could put the art stuff in the bedroom (whichever one would be hers), and then they could turn the attic into a bedroom — Mum said that, yes, they'd be able to put windows through the walls there, so yeah, that could work! Still a little small, but it would be enough, and nowhere to leave things to dry and all, but she could set up a space at Rock-on-Clyde. And, like, if they could make a little spot in the back garden, like a gazebo or veranda or whatever the word would be, so she could do stuff outside if she wanted to, that sounded perfect. She really liked this idea actually, especially since Dora was also going to be here sometimes, Dora was great! This was so cool!

Violet was still babbling off about how setting up art stuff could work when Mum reminded her that they had sleeping kittens to bring home — oh right, oops, got carried away, sorry.

And now she was excited about kittens again! Yeah, let's get home and wake them up...though she should probably put her paints and beads away first...

---

Cassie, casually throwing money around like a ridiculous rich person — sure, buying your eleven-year-old kid a house is perfectly reasonable, it's a learning opportunity!

Anyway, only two more chapters before we're finally leaving for Hogwarts. How many thousands of words in, and we're only now making it to September 1991? lol