Chapter 7 Diagon Alley + Wand [Rewrite]
“Hagrid, how are we going to go to Diagon Alley?” I asked with apprehension
“We’ll be taking that bloody knight bus.” He responded with a pale face
“Ah!” I heard it is a nightmare, we’ll see. The night bus is a roller coaster, on the road… A quick path to death.
Hagrid then lifted his pink umbrella and then *woosh* a giant purple and dirty bus stopped in front of us. Then the door opened, and we were greeted by a relatively young wizard with an unkept appearance, he had large, protruding ears and quite a few pimples, and he wore a purple uniform just like the Bus.
“Where to,” asked the man
“Diagon Alley, can we go a bit slower Stan,” Asked Hagrid
“Nope sorry…this will be eleven Sickles, thirteen for a hot chocolate, and two more if you want a hot water bottle and a toothbrush… Here we go!” shouted Stan Shunpike
Hagrid then gave him twenty-two sickles, for both of us, and then held onto the post with so much strength it looked like the iron would bend.
There were no seats, instead beds, why? No fucking idea I mean it’s supposed to be extremely fast so there shouldn’t be that much time to sleep, but eh…
And then *Boom* we departed, the bus was going extremely fast, the beds would jump, the knight bus was going so fast this was incredible, this was just telling the reaction speed of the driver, Ernie Prang, this asked a question. Did he do some rituals to boost his reaction speed or how fast his brain processes things, because hot damm this guy would be undefeatable in formula one.
We reached our destination in under five minutes; Hagrid was on the verge of puking and when the doors opened, he couldn’t hold it anymore.
As for me? I found it fun, I would love to drive this dirty beauty. Is there something wrong with me? Nah… I am perfectly sane for a reincarnated person.
After a few minutes of Hagrid becoming a fountain, we were in front of the Leaky Cauldron, the entrance for most non-magical families to Diagon Alley though it is sometimes used by magic families. It looked tiny and had a grubby appearance. The Muggles passed it without even paying a glance at the Pub, it was as if they couldn’t see it. Probably a Notice-Me-Not charm or maybe runes with the “same” function.
We went in, it was very dark and shabby, a few old women were sitting in a corner drinking, one was smoking a long pipe. A little man in a top hat was talking to the old bald bartender named Tom.
After being questioned by too many annoying who rushed at me as if they were paparazzi and I was famous… Wait I am famous… Damm, I ain’t “rich” (yet) but am a celebrity, that sucks.
“Right, stand back, Harry, and try to remember what I am doing.” He spoke, he then tapped the wall three time by the brick that was three up and two across from.
The wall then “moved” as if possessed by a demon, after that, a hole was made in the wall that grew bigger and bigger, it formed a gigantic archway that was even big enough for Hagrid.
I was seeing the real Diagon Alley! In front of us was a cobblestone Alley, they were lots of people with different types of clothing. Children were running around and laughing. The ambiance was as warm as the sun, truly something out of the best children’s book.
They were all sorts of shops, be it some that were selling robs, telescopes, cauldrons, books, quills… And hell there also was a shop for magic Staff.
Our first destination was Gringotts, a snow-white building that towered all the other shops, the first door was made of bronze, and the second one was silver with words engraved in it, though I didn’t care about reading it, I already knew what this was about.
Goblins were small, like dwarves, they had very long fingers, and their heads were shaped like a bowl, they looked as if they were constipated, they always frowned with anger and disgust toward wizards.
Anyway, I took my money, a bit more than OG Harry, just a bit…
Hagrid took the red stone in all “secrecy”, you-know-what, …
I then went to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasion shop alone because Hagrid was sick, again.
After buying his Hogwarts robes, (it was boring), he and Hagrid, who was now back, went to Flourish and Blotts, a bookstore, it was beautiful. The shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather, books the size of postage stamps in covers silk, books full of peculiar symbols, and then some normal or just blank.
I bought a few books more than what was needed, like “Introduction to the Wizard Community for first Generation Wizards” or “Days to Days Spells”. After that, we bought my potion equipment from Daily Apothecary and the rest of the list from other shops.
“Just yer wand left,” told me the half-giant, I went there alone while he went to buy me, Hedwig. This showed that this world seemed to mix some things from the films and the books.
The shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.
A tickling sound came from somewhere in the shop as I went in. The shop was old and looked old, it was silent, a simple chair was in the shop in front of all the wands. Then he came, he stood in front of me with his pale eyes inspecting my every being.
Ollivander then did his creepy talk, I didn’t listen to it all but understood some things, like wands are quasi-sentient, Ollivander uses for most of his wands Phoenix feather, Dragon heartstrings, and Unicorn hair though he made some with other cores.
He asked me for my best hand, but I flexed and said I am Ambidextrous which is true, that’s one of the great things about being reincarnated young you can adapt your body/ learn things easier than they would have been if you were an adult.
I asked why he need to take measures because if the wand chooses the wizard, then it’s probably from their magic and magic comes from the soul. He told me that wizards’ appearance, height, weight, and all are a bit influenced by our magic, this explains why I am not exactly like OG Harry.
He then made me try many wands, I broke some… Yeah waving a wand that doesn’t accept you and you don’t want to force it isn’t the best thing.
Then came the original wand of Harry Potter, but it didn’t work for me. Ollivander then said that Dumbledore was sure that he was going to get this wand because of its “brother”.
I am pretty sure I tested more than a hundred wands, the pile of tried wands was like a mountain, but the Wand Maker was getting more excited the more wands I tried.
But then he showed me a wand and I directly knew this was the one. It was white and gold, 13 inches (30 cm). Flexible and neat made from Pine wood with a horned serpent horn core.
As I waved it a gigantic snake came out of it followed by a black-winged thestral.
The wand felt incomplete as if missing something as if the wand was a soul without a shell. I wasn’t the only one who remarked it, Ollivander did too and that’s why he didn’t make me try it at first because he thought it as a “failure”. 7 Galleons was still the price, as this was the standard price for the first wand of a wizard.
*****
Pine Wood:
The straight-grained pine wand always chose an independent, individual master who might be perceived as a loner, intriguing and perhaps mysterious. Pine wands enjoyed being used creatively, and unlike some others, would adapt unprotestingly to new methods and spells.[1]
Many wandmakers insisted that pine wands were able to detect, and perform best for, owners who were destined for long lives, including Garrick Ollivander, who had never personally known the master of a pine wand to die young. The pine wand was one of those that was most sensitive to non-verbal magic.
Horned serpent horn:
This core was exceptionally powerful, sensitive to Parseltongue and vibrated when Parseltongue was being spoken, and could warn their owners of danger by emitting a low musical tone.
Length and flexibility:
Many wandmakers simply match the wand length to the size of the witch or wizard who will use it, but this is a crude measure, and fails to take into account many other, important considerations. In my experience, longer wands might suit taller wizards, but they tend to be drawn to bigger personalities, and those of a more spacious and dramatic style of magic. Neater wands favour more elegant and refined spell-casting. However, no single aspect of wand composition should be considered in isolation of all the others, and the type of wood, the core and the flexibility may either counterbalance or enhance the attributes of the wand's length."
