A/N: Here is the long chapter from the twins' POV, as promised. And thank you all for the lovely reviews!
"ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟꜱ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ, ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʀᴀɪɴɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇᴍ. ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʙᴀᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ᴀɴɴᴏʏ ᴍᴇ. ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ʜᴜʀᴛ ɪꜰ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ."
Chapter Four: Straif and Tinne
-London. July 31st, 1991-
Stealing is easy once you get the hang of it.
At least, that was what Harry and Ruby had learned in the past ten months.
Coins scattered on the ground could earn you a load of washed clothes at the launderette. But it was so much more efficient to pull clothes out of the machines when people weren't looking.
So, it was with fresh clothes, hair and faces washed in a public bathroom that the two set out on their eleventh birthday.
They had become adept at blending into groups of children without anyone really noticing. Obtaining zoo tickets was no object — Harry had a particularly light touch at extricating them from unattended pockets, and Ruby would smile and talk pleasantly with their unwitting victim while Harry was otherwise occupied.
Once safely inside, they joined a group of children about their age, and had quite a lovely time at the zoo until the employee showing the children around decided to do a headcount.
Then, the two of them slipped away from the group and into a large park nearby the zoo, across from several shops and filled with clumps of small trees and people laying on blankets, all too absorbed in their own conversations to notice two children on their own.
Both laid down on the scratchy grass, blinking up at the hot sun — it was one of those warm, lazy days where all that you want to do is doze off.
All of a sudden, two owls swooped down, dropping letters in front of Harry and Ruby before disappearing off into the distance. A few people looked up, some murmuring that they must have escaped their exhibit, others that it was rather odd to see owls at midday.
Harry and Ruby were not so unsettled; the imagination of children accounts for much discrepancy between theory and practice. What they did find odd, however, was the letters.
Harry frowned as he scooped up one of them, turning it over to see the address on the front. His name was written across it in a neat script. There was no return address, or stamp.
How strange.
He had never had a letter addressed to him. Nor had Ruby.
"Dear Ms. Potter," she read questioningly, pulling out a letter written on old-fashioned, fragile-looking paper.
"Dear Mr. Potter."
From here, the strange letters were the same.
I am pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
"What should we do?" asked Ruby. "How could they have our names?"
Harry frowned, squinting into the distance. "And how could they have found us? You don't think it could have anything to do with the Dursleys, could it?"
Ruby shrugged, though she was equally unsettled. "I don't know. We await your owl? What does that mean? It must be a joke, look — Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It must be a prank letter. That's not a real place."
Harry and Ruby frowned at the letters, trying to make sense out of the strange invitation.
The sky crackled; a summer thunderstorm was coming. People began to scramble back indoors, but since Harry and Ruby were closest to the trees, they did not notice it coming, and all of a sudden, they were alone, and rain was sheeting down through the canopy of leaves above them.
Somebody's large footsteps sounded.
"What - what was that?" asked Ruby, peering behind them through her wet hair. A giant man was striding across the rain-filled clearing towards them, with a long mane of shaggy hair that covered most of his face and carrying an enormous pink umbrella.
Harry blinked. Lots of green light, screaming, and a giant motorcycle.
He barely registered Ruby tugging his hand. "Come on, Harry, we have to go!"
Harry did not move, staring at the strange man as if in a trance. He took off his glasses, attempting to wipe the water off on the corner of his already-wet shirt.
"Happy Birthday to yeh," the man was saying, taking a large box from under his cloak. "I mighta sat on it at some point, but it'll taste all right."
"Go away!" Ruby yelled. "We don't want any trouble! Please!"
She pointed into the clump of trees. "Our parents are just over there, sir!"
But to Ruby's horror, Harry had already taken the box from the strange man, opening it to reveal a large, sticky chocolate cake with "Happy Birthday Harry and Ruby" written on it in lime-green icing.
Ruby frowned.
"First the prank letters, then a stranger who knows our names?" she whispered harshly into Harry's ear. He flinched.
"Something's not right," added Ruby. Harry nodded, looking up at the strange man, who was now grinning from ear-to-ear.
"Look, do you know anything about Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? And who are you?" asked Harry.
Ruby shook her head, crossing her arms and glaring at the man.
"The finest school o' witchcraft and wizardry in the world," he said, as if this was obvious. "Yer names have been down ever since you was born."
"That can't be, our parents are dead-" Harry started. Ruby pinched him to shut him up, glaring.
"Great," she hissed in Harry's ear. "Now this weirdo knows that we're alone!"
"I'm Rubeus Hagrid," said the man, reaching one of his dustbin lid-sized hands into his pockets and retrieving a small book. "Here — Sent owls off ter all yer parents' old school friends, askin' fer photos ... knew yeh didn't have any ... d'yeh like it?"
Harry took the book from him eagerly. "Our parents' old school friends — you knew our parents?"
Ruby was about to interject and pull Harry away from Hagrid. But then, she looked over Harry's shoulder. There was a picture of two people — a beautiful woman with auburn hair, and a man with untidy black hair and glasses who looked like an older version of Harry. Both were smiling and holding dark-haired, laughing babies.
But the strangest thing about the picture was that it moved.
Ruby gaped, looking up at Hagrid.
"Turn the picture over," he prompted.
Harry did so. On the back, someone had written: Godric's Hollow, Harry and Ruby's first birthday - July 31, 1981.
"Yer parents," said Hagrid. "Lily and James Potter."
"I don't — I don't understand," said Ruby. "First the weird letters, then you show up, then moving pictures - what's going on?"
He grinned. "Yer a wizard, Harry. An' Ruby, yer a witch. Damn good ones, too, I reckon."
Ruby shook her head. "You're crazy," she said slowly. "Are you a drug addict? I'm sorry, the pictures were lovely and I don't know where you got them from or how you know our names, but we don't have any money."
"I think he might be telling the truth," whispered Harry. "Because my-my freakishness — that's what he hated, didn't he? Maybe it is real, maybe what I can do is magic — and you can do it too, I've seen it. The Dursleys wouldn't tell us, even if they knew. And they always used to say we were like our parents."
"Of course it's not real, Harry!" said Ruby. "Yeah, it'd be nice if it was, but it isn't."
Hagrid looked more than a bit confused. "Alright then," he said, shutting his umbrella with a snap, and waving it at a large branch on the ground that must have broken off during another thunderstorm.
Harry's eyes widened as the branch slowly lurched up, rising steadily until it was floating far above Hagrid (which must have been at least fifteen feet off of the ground).
"So that's what it is?" asked Harry, his voice full of wonder. "That's what we can do? Magic? Real magic, with wands and stuff? But it can't be..." He trailed off, remembering the very last incident that had led to them running away. "The ball... the ball stopped."
He turned to Ruby. "I've seen you do things, too... stop plates from falling to the floor, when the Dursleys weren't looking. It's got to be, hasn't it? There's no other explanation."
Hagrid seemed quite pleased with their response. "All right then, we'd best be goin' now to get yer things fer school."
"Where are we going?" asked Ruby, tucking the envelope under her arm and looking at Hagrid suspiciously. "This gets any weirder," she muttered to Harry, "and we're leaving."
He simply shrugged in response.
"Diagon Alley, to buy yer things for school," Hagrid answered.
"Diagonal Alley?" Harry raised both eyebrows.
"He said Diagon Alley," Ruby muttered as they followed after Hagrid.
"Yeah, because that makes much more sense," Harry responded dryly.
While the twins and Hagrid sat on the train, Ruby read the bizarre shopping list. People gave the giant man and the two children odd looks, then immediately went back to minding their own business. (It was the Underground, after all.)
First-year students will require:
UNIFORM
Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)
One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear
One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)
One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all student's clothes should carry name-tags at all times
BOOKS
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS, NOTE THAT FIRST YEARS MAY NOT HAVE THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS!
"I give in," Ruby whispered excitedly to Harry, and he grinned in response. "It's all way too elaborate to be a prank — it's got to be real."
As soon as they got off of the train, Hagrid, who was just as excited as them, whisked them into a slightly dingy pub that he called the Leaky Cauldron.
Inside, the Leaky Cauldron was loud and cheerful, and not at all dingy. Hagrid had a lively conversation with the innkeeper, Tom, while people looked at Harry and Ruby curiously. A few people came up to talk to Harry directly and shake his hand, saying odd things that he and Ruby could not make head-nor-tails out of, so they simply smiled and said whatever they thought was polite. The strangest of these people was a nervous man who introduced himself as Quirinus Quirrell, a professor at Hogwarts.
Ruby sighed in relief. So, it really was real — either that, or everyone they met today was having the same bizarre, gorgeous fever dream.
"P-P-Potter, c-can't t-tell you how p- pleased I am to meet you," stammered Professor Quirrell, his eyes darting everywhere but Harry's face.
"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?" Harry asked politely, looking up at him.
Quirrell adjusted his mauve turban. "D-Defence Against the D-D-Dark Arts N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?"
Ruby and Harry forced a smile at Quirrell's feeble attempt at humor. She noticed Harry wince as Quirrell walked off.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
Harry shook his head. "Nothing, just my scar. It hurt for a second, it's probably nothing."
After Hagrid finished speaking with the pub owner, Ruby and Harry followed him to a brick wall behind the pub. He tapped a few bricks with his huge pink umbrella, and they fell away to reveal a bright, wide shopping area that looked like something out of a children's picture book.
People milled about, wearing robes in every shade of colors imaginable. The shop windows were bright and filled with wizards' robes, shimmering potion bottles, stacks of quills, shiny cauldrons or piles of glossy leather-bound books.
"This is Diagon Alley?" asked Harry in a voice full of wonder. He was staring wistfully at a snowy owl fast asleep in a shop window, with her head under her wing.
Ruby thought the whole place was gorgeously non-Dursley-ish. She was rather glad that they had clean clothes that day.
But they did not get a chance to stop and look at everything, because Hagrid took them across the street to a white marble building that looked something like a museum.
"Gringotts," Hagrid offered. "Wizard's bank. And the safest place in the wizarding world other than Hogwarts."
"So, we're really going?" asked Ruby as they climbed the steps. "To this wizard school? It exists? There are other people who can — what Harry and I can do is magic? You're absolutely sure?"
They had come to a set of bronze doors, flanked by goblins in scarlet-and-gold uniforms. This led into another entrance hall, this time with a set of silver doors bearing the inscription:
Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.
"What's that for?" asked Harry as they walked through the doors. "Do they think someone's going to steal from the bank?"
"Stealin' from Gringotts! Yeh'd likelier see a Muggle charm a chimney!" Hagrid snorted as if Harry had just said something immensely funny.
"Muggle?"
"Non-magical people. Like yer aunt and uncle. Come to think of it..."
Thankfully, Hagrid did not finish that sentence. As they went into Gringotts, the three fell silent. The vast marble hall had the same still air as a museum or library entrance; the kind that makes you want to fall silent and look around very seriously.
Counters stretched along the length of the hall, lined with cross-looking goblins. People milled about, speaking in soft tones.
At one of the counters, Hagrid emptied his pockets, which contained a few moldy dog biscuits and a small gold key. The goblin sitting behind it looked rather disgusted as Hagrid and the children followed him into one of the dimly-lit passageways lining the hall. The goblin took them on a cart ride through the dark caves. Ruby suppressed a giggle, as Hagrid was looking quite sick.
They got out, and the goblin used the golden key to unlock a small door, revealing a vault inside. He handed Harry a small leather bag, and they went in.
Inside the vault were piles of odd-looking coins that didn't resemble any currency that Harry and Ruby had seen before. There were mounds of large gold coins, columns of medium-sized silver ones, and heaps of little bronze ones the size of a penny.
Harry thought it was very fortunate that the Dursleys did not know about the vault, since they would surely have taken most, if not all of it as 'compensation.'
After this, they got back in the cart, hurtling even further down towards the center of the Earth.
Ruby was beginning to feel claustrophobic.
"Where are we going?" she whispered to Hagrid.
"High-security vault," he responded, looking even greener. "Hogwarts business."
The goblin finally stopped the cart, and the four got out. Harry and Ruby watched in awe as the goblin stroked the walls gently.
"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd get stuck in the walls," said the goblin.
"How often do you check?" asked Harry.
"Oh, every ten to twenty-five years," said the goblin evily.
Hagrid returned, carrying a small package. Harry wondered what it could be, to be that small and so incredibly valuable, and he and Ruby spent the journey up coming up with increasingly ludicrous guesses.
Next, they went into Madame Malkin's for their school robes while Hagrid went for a 'pick me up'.
While the shop assistant fitted them, they spoke with a pale boy with a pinched-looking face.
"I'm Draco Malfoy. You must be going to Hogwarts this year, too. What's your name?" he asked in what Ruby thought an unbelievably snooty voice.
"I'm Ruby, and this is my twin brother, Harry."
"What's your blood status, anyway? You're not Muggle-borns, are you?"
She didn't know what 'Muggle-born' and 'blood status' meant. It sounded like a weird thing to put into an introduction. But maybe it was something wizards said in greeting.
Harry rolled his eyes and shuffled away so that his back was facing Draco Malfoy.
"Our parents were magical," said Ruby, remembering that Hagrid had said that Muggles were non-magical people.
"Half-bloods, then? You've got a look of breeding about you."
Malfoy craned his neck to look around Ruby at Harry. Something in his expression changed.
"You're Harry Potter," he said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Draco Malfoy."
This time, he extended a hand, and Harry shook it tentatively.
"How do you know my name?" asked Harry.
Malfoy snorted. "You're famous, that's how. Is it true that you were brought up by Muggles? How awful."
Neither Harry nor Ruby had an ounce of desire to talk about the Dursleys.
"What House do you think you'll be in?" continued Malfoy. "My family has always been in Slytherin, of course."
"Slytherin?" asked Ruby. The shop assistant tugged on the sleeves of her robes aggressively.
Malfoy sniffed. "Yes, it's one of the Hogwarts Houses. You really were brought up by Muggles, weren't you?"
"What's so special about Slytherin?" asked Harry.
Malfoy looked offended. "It's the best House. Only the most cunning and ambitious students are selected — and of course, those with the purest blood. Ravenclaw's supposedly for intelligent students, but if you ask me, they aren't all that clever. Hufflepuffs are a pitiful bunch, and Gryffindor-" he sighed dramatically, "-is full of self-righteous prats."
After leaving Madame Malkin's and Draco Malfoy behind, Harry and Ruby found Hagrid waiting outside to take them to the next shop on the list. He only looked slightly less green.
"What do you think about Slytherin, Hagrid?" asked Ruby as they went into a bookstore - Flourish and Blotts. "We met a boy in there who seemed really obsessed with being in Slytherin."
Hagrid frowned as they walked past a shelf of viciously snapping books, each plastered with a warning to keep one's hands away from the bindings. "Perhaps they're not all bad, but… there's not been a single Dark wizard tha's not come out o' Slytherin House."
"Dark wizard?" asked Harry as they paid for their schoolbooks.
"Listen very carefully, 'cause what I'm about ta say is very important. Jus' like Muggles, not all witches an' wizards are good. Sometimes they go bad, an' the one tha' was the worst o' 'em all was called —" he paused, "—You Know-Who."
"You know, who?" Harry repeated blankly.
Hagrid sighed and looked around furtively as they left Flourish and Blotts. He crouched down slightly, lowering his voice. "Lord Voldemort. Th' most dangerous Dark wizard o' all time. Started th' First Wizardin' War. He's the one who killed yer parents. Gave yeh tha' scar, Harry."
"That nightmare, with the screaming and all that green light — but I always thought our parents died in a car crash."
"Lily and James Potter die in a car crash! Is that what those silly Muggles told yeh?"
Ruby stopped walking. "So our parents… were murdered?"
"He tracked 'em down — there weren' many o' us left tha' stood against him. They knew you was in danger, separated the two o' yeh so he couldn' find yeh both. Harry was with yer parents tha' night, and..." Hagrid trailed off, his voice breaking. Ruby noticed that her eyes had gone wet all of a sudden.
"What happened, Hagrid?" Harry asked softly.
Hagrid took a deep breath. "He killed 'em ... Lily an' James. Would have killed yeh too, Harry. No one knows what, but somethin' happened to him tha' night, an' yeh escaped with only a scar."
"So, is he…" Harry trailed off, his hand going up to trace the lightning-shaped scar on his head — the one he'd always thought he got in the car crash that their parents died in. But of course — that was why it never faded — it was magic, some kind of evil, cruel magic that he should stay far away from.
"Dead? No, there's not enough human left in 'im to die. I reckon he's still out there somewhere. Weak, an' too tired to go on."
With that last grim thought lingering in the air, they had stopped outside a narrow, shabby shop with peeling gold letters that read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
The display consisted of a wand lying on a faded velvet cushion in the small window. Hagrid ushered them inside. The shop was tiny, dimly-lit and very dusty. As Harry and Ruby looked around, they saw thousands of narrow boxes piled up right to the ceiling lining every wall.
Harry and Ruby thought the whole thing very odd.
"Hello!" cried a creaky voice from the recesses of the shop as the ancient door swung shut behind them. "Please do come closer. I cannot see very well, these days."
An owlish old man was standing in front of them, with cloudy spectacles and wide, pale eyes that seemed to glimmer in the gloomy, dark shop.
"Ah yes. Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
The shopkeeper noticed Ruby standing behind her brother.
"And who is this?"
"My twin sister," Harry offered. "Ruby."
"Ah, a sister. I always wanted one of those."
He clapped his hands. "But where are my manners? My name is Ollivander. Now, shall we begin?"
"You first," Harry nudged his sister in front of him. Ruby gulped and stepped forward as Ollivander presented a wand to her and instructed Ruby to flick it.
"Ten inches. Unicorn hair and birch. Fairly springy."
Ollivander noticed Harry's questioning look.
"Every wand has a core and a wood," he explained. "The core is responsible for transmitting the magical energy, and the wood helps to focus it."
The slender wooden stick felt odd and strangely slippery between her fingers.
Ruby waved the wand, and it demolished a whole shelf of wands.
"Oh my! I'm so sorry, sir!"
"Not at all," Ollivander waved his wand to clear the pile of boxes.
After several attempts, that in Harry's opinion threatened to bring the entire shop down on their heads, Ollivander went into the recesses of the shop and brought back a small, battered box. Harry leaned in to see as he lifted the lid to reveal a slender wand made from honey-colored wood, with dark splotches that could have been bloodstains.
"Try this. Blackthorn and dragon heartstring. Eleven inches, stiff."
Ruby tentatively waved it and Harry let out the breath he'd been holding as a few red sparks came from the tip, but nothing else was destroyed.
Ollivander looked very pleased.
"It has been a while since I sold a blackthorn wand," he said giddily. "But you might perhaps have some trouble with it at first. A curious feature of such wands is that they appear to need to pass through danger or hardship with their owners to become truly bonded. I do hope that such circumstances will pass quickly. But once it is over, your wand will become as loyal and faithful a servant as one could wish."
Ruby was still swishing the wand around blithely, and Harry was still very afraid that she would bring yet another shelf's contents crashing to the ground.
"At any rate, it will serve you well in times of great peril." He turned to Harry.
Ruby smirked. "Let's see the catastrophe you'll cause."
"I won't be bringing any shelves down, thanks very much."
Harry ended up eating his words soon enough. After many failed attempts, Ollivander eventually offered Harry a wand that he described as "Phoenix feather and holly. Eleven inches, nice and supple."
The wood felt warm and comforting against his hand as Harry closed his fingers around the pale-gold, almost greenish wand, and instantly, he knew the wand was meant for him.
Ollivander spoke about the properties of Harry's wand as they counted out fourteen of the gold coins (Hagrid called them Galleons).
"Holly wands often choose owners who are engaged in some dangerous quest," said Ollivander as he sat down heavily in the single chair in the shop.
"What do you mean, the wand chooses an owner?" asked Harry.
Ollivander smiled. "The wand always chooses the wizard, never the other way around. But what I find curious about this particular wand choosing you, Harry Potter, is not its wood, but its core."
"Why?"
"Because the phoenix who gave your wand its core gave only two feathers. I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. And the other wand with a feather from that phoenix I sold a very long time ago, to the man who murdered your parents. How strange. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother — why, its brother gave you that scar."
"You sold Lord Voldemort his wand?" asked Ruby.
Ollivander nodded. Something gloomy flitted across his face. "Long ago, when he went by a different name. I sold it to him when he was the same age as you both, more than fifty years ago. He did great things with that wand; terrible, yes, but great."
Harry was very unnerved. He wasn't sure if he quite liked Ollivander. Surely it was wrong to be fascinated by all the horrid things Lord Voldemort did; but Ruby's eyes were wide and curious.
He seemed deep in thought. "Straif and tinne… never mind. I think it is clear that we can expect great things from the both of you. Best of luck at Hogwarts."
Hagrid was waiting outside for them with a black kitten curled up in a basket and purring like an engine, and the snowy owl that Harry had been staring at still fast asleep in her cage.
"Thought I'd get yeh something for yer birthday," said Hagrid brightly.
Harry and Ruby had never gotten birthday presents, and thought that they were the nicest possible gifts that Hagrid could possibly bought them.
After the shopping was done, there was the question of where they would stay.
"You can't send us back, Hagrid!" said Ruby frantically as he once more raised the question of the Dursleys. "You can't, you can't!"
Harry watched with bated breath as something in Hagrid's expression slowly softened. "All right then," he said. "The Leaky Cauldron it is — I'll tell 'em to look out fer yeh two. But it's not right, two children on their own... I must tell Dumbledore."
Harry was too filled with relief to debate the meaning of the last sentence; but it seemed that Ruby was particularly worried about what this might mean.
"Dumbledore, his name was on the very top of the letter — he's the headmaster. He won't find out, will he?" she asked, on the first night as they watched Hedwig and Hephaestus tentatively exploring each other, the bird hooting in indignation. "Will he?"
But Harry did not answer, instead gazing tiredly at the faint wisps of shadow swirling between his fingers. Since the last day at the Dursleys', they had never left — but that was normal, for people like him. If there was magic to lift things and set things on fire, there had to be some kind of shadow magic. And it couldn't be the same evil, cruel kind of magic that killed their parents.
Right?
A/N: I know putting the text of the Hogwarts shopping list is supposedly a cardinal sin because we've all read it before, but I couldn't help myself, sorry!
Also, the chapter title refers to Ruby and Harry's wand woods' equivalents in the Ogham (early medieval Irish) alphabet, where straif is blackthorn and tinne is holly. I chose Ruby's wand wood very carefully, so I'm not going to post it all here but for some insight onto her character, you can check out the mythology and symbolism around blackthorn bushes.
...and last but not least, thank you for reading. The next chapter will feature more of Tom Riddle's *lovely* childhood.