Note: This chapter was betaed by MasterQwertster.
Chapter 3
The Mysteries of Diagon Alley
29 July 1991, Diagon Alley, London
Now that she had money, Alexandra figured she could at last search her school supplies and the rest of the magical objects she needed before September 1. First thing up on her list were logically an owl and a trunk, considering the Dursleys refused to get her the later. An owl was her priority for three reasons. First, while she had no friends to send messages to for now, she also had absolutely no means to reply when someone sent her an important message requesting an answer as soon as possible. Messages coming from places like Gringotts or Hogwarts, for example. Secondly, buying an owl in the short term would certainly be costly for her budget, but would avoid a lot of spending in the long term. If she had to use the owl office at the end of Diagon Alley every time she wanted to communicate with someone in the magical world, it would add up. Lastly, her aunt absolutely hated all sorts of animals at home, even the dogs Vernon's sister Marge brought with her when she came. Making an owl come into the Dursleys home would be a superb prank, even if Aunt Petunia was allergic to the birds, a cat would have been better from that point of view.
Entering Eeylops Owl Emporium, Alexandra noticed that the store was very dark on the inside, almost certainly because owls were nocturnal creatures contrary to humans. Alexandra's vision took roughly a minute to completely adjust. When she had adapted sufficiently, she was able to see the shop was simply a warehouse for a lot of cages, all containing owls of different kinds and sizes. There were a few birds vaguely looking like hybrids of owls, but apart from these special cases, the shop was truly the kingdom of the caged owl.
"Can I help you, Miss?"
Alexandra nodded to the vendor. She almost didn't hear him with all the hooting and screeching from the dozens of owls.
"Possibly," Alexandra replied. "I'm looking for... a courier owl, fast and tough enough to carry messages and packages."
"No problem." The man smiled, then began to march along the alley formed by the numerous cages, followed by Alexandra."Eeylops has plenty of those." He laughed loudly. "We have plenty of owls of all sorts, even some foreign breeds, if you like."
They passed by many owls, all of them hooting as they twisted their heads this way and that. Alexandra was surprised when some owls revealed themselves able to twist their own head a full 180 degrees. Still, no owl for the moment had attracted her attention.
They had finally reached the far end of the shop when she was attracted by the sight of a snowy white owl with amber eyes. She was looking at her with intelligence. Alexandra smiled, knowing she had found her owl at last.
"This one." she said.
"Be careful with this one!" said the shop keeper in an alarmed tone. "She has already tried to bite several customers in the last weeks. This bird is a white demon!"
"Thank you for the warning but I will take her." Alexandra said. "How much for her?"
"Thirty Galleons. That includes both the cage and owl treats."
"I won't need the cage," Alexandra said, her voice almost cold, at the involuntary reminder of the years she had been imprisoned in the cupboard by the Dursleys. She would be damned before she subjected an animal to the same cruelty.
The vendor looked a bit worried at the idea of selling an aggressive bird to a young girl, but he didn't argue. "Very well, then it will be twenty Galleons for the owl."
Alexandra paid the man, and then opened the cage. The owl flew out without needing any incentive and then landed on her right shoulder. The owl then refused to move further, making the vendor laugh.
She left the shop, which had been too dark and noisy for her taste, with her new companion on her shoulder, and then proceeded to search for something to eat.
At Fortescue Ice-Cream Parlour, she bought a sandwich, a tart, an apple juice, an ice cream and water, filling her stomach which had been drastically emptied by the cart ride in the depths of Gringotts. She also had the arduous task of naming her owl. Initially, she had been willing to name the owl Athena, but the owl screeched threateningly when she had made the mistake to call her by that name. After an intense period of negotiation, which included owl treats and pieces of sandwich, they finally settled for Atalanta. Alexandra thought it was a good name for her owl, as she had a huntress' temperament. Once her meal was over, she gave her reply letter for Hogwarts to the newly named owl, who flew off into the northern sky northwards after eating one more owl treat.
Her next stop after lunch was the shop Magical Trunks to Travel Anywhere!, as she really needed something to carry her supplies. After Eeylops, it was not a surprise to discover the shop was huge and full of trunks. Some of them were even moving or levitating by themselves. The shop owner was sitting near a desk at the far end of the shop, negotiating with a client who seemed to have needed a customised trunk as he departed with one in tow which was growling and barking at the same time.
"Can I help you miss?" asked the man.
"Yes, I was wondering if I could get a trunk for Hogwarts," she answered, looking at all the trunks present with interest.
"Of course, what type of trunk would you like? A basic model for first years?" he asked after looking at her. It was clear that this man had an opinion about the way she was dressed. Perhaps he thought she was poor because the clothes screamed 'Muggle-born'.
"Maybe an advanced model, please. I would like one with a basic security system at the very least. I intend to place all my school supplies plus my clothes in it."
The man stared at her pensively for ten seconds then nodded, before levitating a trunk on his right with his wand. Of a green-black colour, it appeared solid and unremarkable.
"This is the T35 design. It has two extra compartments in addition to the basic model I recommend for Hogwarts third-year students, and it has extra-security features so you can lock your trunk and the compartments with a password and your wand."
She examined the trunk, still asked to see two others and for a demonstration of the safety measures before taking the first trunk he had proposed. She paid thirty Galleons for this purchase, thanked the vendor for his time and went out again into the streets of Diagon Alley.
Having her trunk, she could finally begin purchasing her school supplies. Her next stop was the book store, Flourish and Blotts, as it was only two shops away from the one she has just left.
Flourish and Blotts was completely different from any other book store or library she had ever been in. To begin with, it was impossibly larger on the inside than the outside. It was maybe four or five times the size of the trunk store, and a lot of this space was full of books. Rows upon rows of books. Thousands of books. All categorised by magical subjects, of which there were plenty. Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology, Potions, and so much more, all waiting to be read.
First things first, she searched thorough the store for the eight books on her list, which were the basic readings for a first-year Hogwarts student and cost 6 Galleons, eight Sickles and nine Knuts. After finding the books needed for Hogwarts' courses, she then tried to find other interesting books to buy. She didn't know anything at all about the wizarding world, and figured she'd best not begin her life by insulting or not knowing what every witch took for granted. Although she had not the money on her (or for that matter in her trust vault) to buy all the books in this library, she could try to read more than the normal curriculum of her new magical school. She wasn't going to make the travel to Diagon Alley every day anyway, so a bit of extra reading wasn't going to empty her trust vault in one shopping session.
She had already bought A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot for history lessons, but she added Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century, The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts, and Nature's Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy, which seemed to be the more relevant titles the library owned. At least by the time she read these books she would have a clear idea of what events had happened in the last decades in the magical world.
There were more history books, of course, like Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, Modern Magical History, and A Study of Recent Developments in Transfiguration but she had neither the money nor the will to read dozens of books all at once. All of the books looked like they would be interesting, but she had several years to buy and read them all. Assuming the library of Hogwarts didn't have them. The store wasn't going to magically disappear tomorrow, at least she hoped not. Given what she had learnt and seen today, she was not going to rule out something like a shop disappearing in the void as a magical impossibility immediately.
She still bought the Cast-a-spell Handbook, Abracadabra: An A-Z of Spooky Spells and Curses and Counter-Curses by Vindictus Viridian, but with six more books she had enough reading for August, and it cost her another four Galleons, one Sickle and two Knuts.
She passed the next half-hour searching through amusing titles, when she found next to a section dedicated to a discipline called Arithmancy an entire wing dedicated to one person. At first, she thought it was a bad joke, but then she read the titles, having names such as Neville Longbottom and the Bulgarian Purple Dragon, Neville Longbottom and the Vampire's Spell, Neville Longbottom and the Race Through Time, Neville Longbottom and the Ultimate Tournament and at least what looked to be twenty other books with similar titles, all bearing the description in the first page of being 'True Story!'.
Alexandra was not sure what disturbed her more, the fact that people were writing books about one person, the fact that the boy in question (at least according to what her account manager had told her) was barely the same age as her, or that the entire shelf next to her was full of dolls and toys at the effigy of Neville Longbottom, the Boy-Who-Lived.
Picking up the one titled Neville Longbottom and the Manticore's Revenge, she opened the book to the first page and began to read. Rapidly, she saw the story was pure nonsense. She didn't even have to read past the first chapter to know Neville Longbottom was going to defeat the Manticore at the end of the book (although the fact that Manticores existed in the magical world was definitely not a good thing) while the Boy-Who-Lived had already defeated twenty evil adult wizards alone in the first chapter. How a five year-old boy was supposed to accomplish this monumental feat at an age a normal child was in primary school, she had no idea, the author having left this minor issue to the imagination of the reader.
Alexandra did not know if the people who had written this believed this pack of lies, but it made her wonder about the ego of the boy who was supposed to have accomplished all these 'exploits', especially if the wizards and witches and their children took them as the pure and unaltered truth.
Realising she had passed enough time at the book store, she closed the book, put it back in its place and went back to her trunk to pack the books she had bought. The fictional adventures of the Boy-Who-Lived could wait for another time, although she noticed a couple of adults buying the books in question for their children before she left the shop.
After leaving Flourish and Blotts, she bought a watch in a magical horologer when she realised she had not a lot of daylight left to buy of her supplies. After that she bought a pewter cauldron as indicated on the list for the modest sum of two galleons piece, then the set of scales (for ten sickles) and a collapsible telescope (for three galleons). She quickly bought the ingredients and the kit for potions she needed in the apothecary shop, as the smell was truly repulsive, horrible, and a lot of other words where disgusting figured prominently.
In spite of the barrels of slimy stuff which stood on the floor, jars of herbs, dried roots and bright powders lined the walls. Bundles of feathers, strings of fangs and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. Alexandra found herself unable to bear the smell of rotten eggs and outdated vegetables that was in this store. She got out of this establishment as soon as possible.
The following shop on Alexandra's list of places to go was for clothes, in that case the name of the shop was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. There, she was welcomed by an old witch who could only be the owner of the store, Madam Malkin. She was a squat witch, dressed in a long mauve robe, and gave her a pleasant smile. She looked a bit strange being so short in height, but at least she wasn't repulsive like so many witches in the alley had been. Many of them had the look and the smell of the evil witches in the fairy tales. And her behaviour was likeable, unlike some other welcomes she had this day in the Leaky Cauldron or Gringotts.
"Hogwarts, dear?" asked the woman, her kind smile still in place.
Alexandra nodded. "Yes, Madam."
"We've had quite a few Hogwarts students coming in today," the woman said. "In fact, there's a young woman being fitted up just now."
In the back of the shop, a girl with light blond hair was indeed standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up her long black robes. Seeing Alexandra, she frowned in a sign disdain and her face changed as if Alexandra was unworthy to be in the same room as her. The girl had a pale skin, light blonde hair and cold blue eyes, giving her a sort of ethereal beauty which was usually found in the magazines showing pictures of top models Petunia bought for the cosmetics and the tea parties with the neighbours. Madam Malkin stood Alexandra on the stool next to her, slipped a long robe over her head, and began to pin it to the right length.
"Hello," she said to the girl when it became evident the other girl was not going to speak first. "So you go to Hogwarts too?"
"Evidently," replied the other girl, with a tone that managed to be arrogant, confident and aristocratic at the same time. Alexandra knew at once she and the unknown girl were not going to be friends. "What year are you in?"
"First year." she replied hoping the conversation had just gotten better after a bad start.
"As expected given your Muggle clothes." the blond girl affirmed with a tone of something which could be superiority or arrogance. "I take it your parents are currently buying all the things you need for Hogwarts, like all Muggle-borns do?" The way the question was formed, it was clear the girl's question had been more rhetorical than anything else.
Alexandra turned her head in shock. Okay, it seemed her first impression of the girl had been the truth. Definitely not someone she wanted to be friends with. If the girl had been less snobbish, she would have sworn she was doing the equivalent of smirking.
"For the record," she drawled in a cold tone similar to the one which had just been used to insult her, "my parents were a wizard and a witch, so I'm not Muggle-born. And no, they're not buying my supplies in Diagon Alley. They're dead. I'm doing my shopping myself."
Not technically true as her father was currently imprisoned, but she was not going to inform the pest next to her of her exact familial status.
The other girl raised an eyebrow, but didn't say anything else as the lady was finishing her robes.
Alexandra wondered why the girl sounded so full of herself. Even Aunt Petunia on her best haughty day wasn't in the same league of 'unreachable'. It was not like she hadn't said something truly insulting or had the appearance of a gargoyle! Or maybe she was able to read her thoughts. With magic, everything was possible after all.
Losing herself in her thoughts, she was caught by surprise when the other girl spoke again.
"So what house do you think you'll be in?" the blonde diva asked her.
"I'm not sure," Alexandra answered, almost tempted to admit she knew really little about the system of Houses in Hogwarts, and only because she had spoken to a library assistant not two hours ago. Otherwise, she wouldn't even know there were Houses at her new school. Not that she was going to tell her interlocutor that. She didn't even know what House her parents were in.
"No idea. You?" she turned back the question, not wanting to admit her ignorance to this girl.
"Well," the girl actually seemed to think for a moment, before shrugging. "I'm not really sure, but I would say Slytherin or Ravenclaw, since my parents were in those Houses. Nobody is really sure where they'll be sorted until after the sorting the first day of school, but everyone can make accurate guesses where you won't be. I just hope I'm not in Hufflepuff. Or worse in Gryffindor."
"And what's wrong with being sorted into Hufflepuff or Gryffindor?" asked Alexandra, honestly curious. She also filed away the knowledge that both Ravenclaw and Slytherin were places which would be less than pleasant if the blond girl was put in them.
"Don't you know?" The girl asked in an amused tone, before hurrying on with the answer before Alexandra could say anything to the question that was obviously rhetorical. "Hufflepuff are failures academically and the House of cowards and leftovers. Still, better them than Gryffindor. If you're stupid and you love charging into lost causes headlong, then this House is for you."
The girl was leaning at that moment towards her, which explained how she had missed the look of anger on the face of the young woman pinning up her robes. However, while the insufferable blond girl missed it, Alexandra was in the perfect position to see the expression, and it was not a pleasant one. She didn't doubt the employee wanted to strangle the blonde haired girl badly right now.
Before Alexandra or the other girl could say anything more, the other woman said to the blond girl "That's you done, my dear," and the blonde hopped down from the footstool.
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the haughty girl with a condescending tone, managing to imply in this single sentence she didn't think Alexandra had her place at this school.
When she was far away, Alexandra asked to the young woman: "You were in Hufflepuff, weren't you?"
The woman's head turned in surprise as she looked at her. She gave Alexandra a cold smile. "Yes," she answered Alexandra's question. "I was one of those failures, as she called them, and for your information, you'll never have a more loyal friend than a Hufflepuff."
"That's you done, dear," Madam Malkin said, interrupting any further attempt at conversation, which was probably for the better, as she was sure it wouldn't have been a polite one. Alexandra nodded and hopped of the stool. Paying for her uniforms and other items (hats, cap and gloves) cost her twenty galleons, and after having wished a pleasant day to Madam Malkin, she packed her trunk and went out the clothes shop.
The next half-hour was dedicated to buying parchment, quills and other writing materials (though Alexandra promised herself to bring some 'normal' pens to Hogwarts).
Now she had just her wand left to buy, and Mr Fortescue had told her the name of the shop she had to look for: Ollivanders Wand Shop, who was according to him the best wand maker of Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley and the rest of London combined. She found it in ten minutes.
This last shop was narrow, shabby, and not engaging in any sense. Old gold letters over the door read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. Worst advertisement ever in her opinion: the building looked two steps away from toppling itself into a complete ruin.
A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as she stepped inside. It was a very tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which she certainly didn't want to sit on to wait. For a wand shop, she felt slightly disappointed. After all was not the wand the most important of her school supplies she had to get? Alexandra felt strange, as though she had entered a mysterious place. One where the reality of the world didn't completely apply. She had found in the last hours she had a lot questions concerning magical wands, and right now she saw them in thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason she felt ill-at ease, like she knew she was being watched by someone unknown in this strange shop. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with a magic which had no comparison to hers.
"Good afternoon." said a soft voice. Alexandra almost jumped in place, but managed with difficulty to restrain herself. Instead, she turned her head in all directions, trying to see who had just spoken. Coming out of nowhere, an old man was standing before her. His wide, pale eyes shone like silvery moons through the gloom of the shop.
"Hello," said Alexandra awkwardly.
"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Alexandra Potter." It wasn't a question. While her disguise didn't appear to have collapsed, the man had pierced her new look without effort. "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."
Mr Ollivander moved closer to Alexandra in a slow, careful manner. Alexandra wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes and manners were a bit on the creepy side.
"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard or the witch, of course."
Mr Ollivander had come so close that he and Alexandra were almost nose to nose. Alexandra could see herself reflected in those misty eyes, along with some smoky things she didn't want to look at too much.
He shook his head and then, to Alexandra's relief, spun on his heel to march back into his shop.
"Hmmm," said Mr Ollivander, turning again towards her, apparently collecting his thoughts. "Well, now – Miss Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"
"Err – well, I'm left-handed," said Alexandra.
"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Alexandra from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round her head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Miss Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, the heartstrings of dragons, and the hair, blood or skin of dozens of magical animals. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, griffins, sphinxes or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."
The speech sounded like the man had rehearsed it and practised it thousands of times.
Alexandra suddenly realised that the tape measure, which was measuring between her nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.
"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Miss Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Alexandra took the wand and waved it around a bit to experiment. The left window almost exploded under the impact. Mr Ollivander snatched it out of her hand almost at once.
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try –"
Alexandra tried –and she almost set the shop on fire. The wand was snatched back by Mr Ollivander again.
"No, no – here, oak and thestral hair, ten inches, solid. Go on, go on, try it out."
Alexandra tried. And destroyed the door behind Ollivander. She tried again with another wand. And then another, unleashing more chaos and destruction into the shop. She had no idea what Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair and near it, but the more wands Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier and more excited he seemed to become. She also noticed that the core of the wands she tried were rarely phoenixes, unicorns or dragons now. Some of the magical creatures Mr. Ollivander was announcing were names of the Greek and other mythologies she had learnt in the school library, and she prayed she would never met some of these beasts face to face in her life.
"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not – a powerful combination – rosewood and hydra heartstring, twelve inches, whippy."
Alexandra took the wand. She felt a sudden sensation of both warmth and cold in her fingers. She raised the wand slightly to her eyes, and then brought it down swiftly, swishing down through the dusty air and a small hurricane of blue and green magic shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing sparks onto the walls. Mr Ollivander smiled and exclaimed: "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well … how interesting … how very surprising …"
He put Alexandra's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Interesting … interesting …"
"Excuse me," said Alexandra curious, "but what's interesting?"
Mr Ollivander fixed Alexandra with his intimidating stare.
"I remember every wand I've ever made and sold, Miss Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that hydra wands are rarely made as very few wizards and witches are destined for this type of magical core, as hydras are not only uncommon, but also fearsome and powerful magical beasts. I created only two wands with hydra heartstring, and the other wand is still in my shop awaiting its new master or mistress. It is very interesting indeed that you should be destined for this wand when no one for the last century was able to create a single spark from the two wands using this magical component."
Alexandra swallowed, not liking at all the semi-creepy tone used by the man...
"Yes, twelve inches. Rosewood. Interesting indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the witch, remember … I think we must expect great things from you, Miss Potter … After all, witches like Morgana Le Fay did terrible things, terrible but great..."
She was forced to shiver at his tone. She wasn't sure she enjoyed Mr Ollivander at all after this. She paid seven gold Galleons for her wand and Mr Ollivander bowed her out of his shop.
It was now late-afternoon and the sun hung low in the sky as Alexandra emerged from Ollivander's shop. She estimated she must have passed over two hours in that shop searching a wand. She made her way back down Diagon Alley, which was now less crowded than in the morning, took the time to thank Mr Fortescue for his advice and then went back through the Leaky Cauldron, now completely empty of any clients. Once out of the pub, she went to the backside alley of the morning and cancelled her disguise, before beginning the combination of teleportation and walk that would bring her back to the Dursleys household.
She arrived late in the night, unlocked the door and managed to get to her bedroom without waking up her cousin, her aunt, or her uncle. She had managed to survive her first day in the magical world! Now she had to ensure it was going to stay that way for a long time.
4 August 1991, Unknown place
"So the attempt at Gringotts failed, Knight Alchemist."
"A temporary setback, your Majesty. Our Pawn and his ally have infiltrated Hogwarts. Knight Summoner has prepared his trap for whoever is foolish enough to break into Brise-Roc again. The rest of our pieces are in place. Everything is still on schedule."
"I disagree. This 'ally' is a Dark Lord with delusions of grandeur, who believes he is destined to rule wizard kind. At the soonest opportunity, he will try to betray us. When the Stone is recovered, eliminate him."
"As you wish, your Majesty. Is there anything else?"
"Tell your Pawn he has a year to accomplish this mission. If he fails, death will be a mercy compared to his ultimate fate."
"I will relay your orders at once, your Majesty."