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It didn't come as a surprise to me. That I was magical that is. The first instant of experiencing accidental magic in the orphanage that I could remember; making a bully trip on his suddenly tied together shoelaces - did not shock me.
I might have only been six. An orphan with no friends - no belongings. Yet I remember another life. I have since birth, and yes that is as horrifying as anyone can imagine. The less said about feedings and such the better, I think. These memories of a previous me have ensured I am completely alien to the other children at the orphanage. I just couldn't, wouldn't, limit myself to hide my intelligence. To the other children I might as well have been an alien, I certainly wasn't like them, so they detested me.
As such when magic suddenly made itself known, for what else could it be? I immediately believed it. I had seen it myself, the shoelaces tying themselves into knots on their own, I felt drained as if something of me was used. I had been reincarnated. Of course it would end up being into some other world. People didn't just reincarnate to go and become a great librarian, or to redo high school - less embarrassingly this time, perhaps - It was for some purpose. I detested the idea of fate or a higher being. Of someone or something pulling my strings. Yet, what explanation is there for suddenly being born again, and in a world different from my own.
Although why on earth I would be chosen is something no amount of pondering could solve.
It was also the only explanation for why my tiny brain, upon birth, was able to hold my memories and thought processes. Magic. No normal brain at that age would have been able to keep even a tenth of me - fully aware and thinking at such a young age. A baby brain should not at any point have been able to handle it.
Of course there were plenty of so-called fictional worlds with magic. I couldn't automatically assume accidental magic ala Harry Potter. So I tested my hypothesis. I lived at an orphanage in London after all. At six I was already impressing and forcing myself into higher classes, preparing for high school within the next year if my trajectory followed projections. Although not allowed freedom of movement, it wasn't hard to gently convince one of the caretakers who usually picked me up after classes to swing by Charing Cross. All it took was one look at the Leaky Cauldron, and I knew.
I did not go inside. I returned to the orphanage and concentrated on my school work. As an adult in a child's body it was laughably easy. Yet now that I knew what world I was in. It would do well to continue my path. The label of prodigy or genius was one I sought to make something of myself in this poverty-stricken new life. While thinking I was normal, lacking a different description, I had sought academic excellence as my path. It was a tightrope to walk now, I still desired to achieve that excellence. A title of prodigy would explain any leaps in magic I might make due to a superior ability to focus and utilize my mind and effort over eleven year old children.
At least I hoped it would work that way, otherwise that would make me really pathetic.
Now that I knew the wizarding world waited, I did not want to be burdened with guardians. Not that they were clamoring to claim me, my attitude scared away all comers. As a poor orphan boy in London, set to graduate high school within the next few years, before hitting puberty, I was liable to be picked up by either a wealthy couple looking for good PR, or the kind of middle class couples looking for a further upward trajectory a genius child could bring them.
I would be a prop. A useful thing. No thank you, I'd rather be at the orphanage.
I would have to dumb it down, stagger my progress, drag it out. High school in two, perhaps, then graduate in three. Just in time for age eleven. Still prodigious, but not enough to have people knocking the door down for me, from across the globe, I hoped. Worst case, I could scare them away with a biting personality. I wasn't exactly a people person so far in this new life. The children hated me, the workers of the orphanage were mostly just collecting a paycheck. They wouldn't blink if I didn't come back tomorrow. File a report, sure. But no tears would fall. No one would miss me.
It was… Extremely lonely…
I longed to explore Diagon Alley, now that I knew it existed, really existed, I have magic! I can't reiterate enough how wild that is. Yet I was not stupid. A muggleborn child on its own walking down those streets, not even wand age yet. What purpose did I have in doing something that risky? Best case scenario, someone from the ministry takes me back to the orphanage after reports of an unaccompanied minor, with or without messing with my memories. Worst case scenario, someone grabs me for ingredients/ a meal/ revenge on muggleborns for stealing magic. Or something of the sort.
This was not a safe world by any stretch. Magic itself had many pitfalls. As much as I hungered to devour actual magic books. To study and learn magic! I knew it was best to wait until I had a wand, and was officially a student enrolled in Hogwarts. I did not have plot armor. A child on its own was already a target for unsavory normal people. I didn't need to compound it by poking my nose in where it will not be welcomed yet, if ever, by a dangerous part of society. With a wand I would at least be able to fight back.
To say that I sat idle because of this would be a lie. I still had school to shine in, a small workout routine to craft, now that I had reason to work on stamina for the future. I could not tell for sure whether such a thing did improve ones magic stamina as well, but at the very least it would make me dodge and run for longer if necessary. The rest of my time, not counting chores at the orphanage was spent on three main avenues of self study, all tied together.
Meditation, for an hour when I woke, and an hour before I went to bed. Concentrating on my breathing, clearing my mind. This to help identify the feeling of my magic, to start the path on Occlumency and to sharpen my focus and my memory.
Occlumency itself was the second. Hours a day spent, perhaps fruitlessly; I wouldn't know for years, building a setting in my mind. Focusing intent heavily on it, hoping my magic would naturally follow along. A vast forest of the mind, imagining it at all times of the day, sorting my memories into it, wrapping defenses around them, obscuration tactics woven into the fabric of my imaginary mindscape. I could feel my memory improve, my focus stronger than ever. Yet I had no idea if this was simply the progress of focusing my mind more often, or if I was actually successfully creating a mindscape. I was counting on fanon a lot when it came to this, I had no idea if it would work or not.
Thirdly and tied into the effort to find my magic, and using intent and concentration to attempt to build a mindscape through Occlumency. I spent the rest of my time attempting only two spells, trying to will into reality those two spells, to control my accidental magic, to learn and be able to use them wandlessly. The first - the most obvious one - Accio. The summoning charm. An ambitious project as it was not even a first year spell. It was a fourth year one. Even if I did not succeed before Hogwarts, this, I would keep working on. The use of a wand being so intrinsical to magic, losing it was too easy of a way to take it away from me. A wandless Accio could quickly fix that.
Secondly I focused on Revelio. A spell to unmask hidden things. Reveal hidden passages, messages, and unmake spells hiding a person. It had several variations as well which could also reveal information on objects, potions and spells. If I could learn Revelio wandlessly, I would not only be able to explore Hogwarts on the sly wherever I go, but reveal hidden or transformed people as well. Considering the problems plaguing those halls, I found it a priority to be able to unnoticeably perform this charm.
I had my plan. The next few years mapped out. The plan was focused on the most important thing to follow in this new world. Study magic, learn, live, eat, magic. The Harry Potter stuff takes care of itself. Just escape abroad for the seventh year and return for the eight. Problems solved.
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Severus Snape detested these outings. It's why he ensured he was never available to take them on in the summer. Usually he got away with it, Albus knowing better than to inflict him on unsuspecting muggleborns, then Minerva had to get sick this week of all times. If he didn't still respect her to the extent he did, he would have told her to stuff it, sick or not. Thankfully she had already gone through most of the incoming muggleborns, leaving him only a few.
He had already dealt with too many stuttering, incompetent weak willed children this week, it made him feel like the school year had already started and he was stuck watching the useless cretins blow up his classroom. At least he only had one left. He sneered as he approached the address for St. Mary's Hope orphanage. He didn't hold much hope for this at all. A dilapidated yellowed building, appearing more as some holding facility then one for children. As he walked through the gate, the children playing in the yard scurried away from him, Severus didn't give them another glance. Noting anyway, with disgust, that their threadbare clothes barely sufficed for the weather, even as muggy and warm as it was. Muggles! He thought with distaste, entering to find the matron of this lovely institution.
The memories brought up by this horrid building and downtrodden muggles made him even more acerbic than usual, the matron of the orphanage practically running ahead of him to show him to the muggleborns room. Disappearing after as if she had apparated, she moved so quick. Severus allowed himself a slight pleased sneer, even as he disapproved of how easily she allowed a strange man access to her ward. He took on a neutral expression before opening the door without knocking, taking in the room with a glance.
His eyebrows rose as he took in muggle photographs from their newspapers taped to the walls. Spelling competitions, chess competitions, national debates, mathematics tournaments. All had the child he had come to collect in the picture, proclaiming him the winner. He could see the trophies and plaques on a rickety shelf across from the tiny bed in the small room. So not a complete dunderhead.
He observed the child sitting on the bed, studying him at the same time. Healthy height and weight despite being an orphan. Severus' lips curled, special treatment perhaps for his achievements. The boy had dark, silky - Tch! Preferential treatment indeed - shoulder length hair, a fair face and cool gray eyes, which were even now observing him in turn. Severus sneered, the boy's looks reminded him of a young Sirius Black. Nothing good could come from this child. He decided immediately.
"Lucas Greenwood, I presume." Severus snapped out, throwing the spoiled child his letter. To think even an orphanage would bend over backwards for the rotten children as long as they had a good trick or two, it seemed everywhere was the same. Special treatment for the Potter's and Black's of the world!
"I am." The child said, frowning slightly as he read the letter. Severus waited impatiently. It would not do, he reminded himself, to give detentions yet, although he dearly wished to, as the child kept wasting his time reading slowly.
"I am expected to believe this, just on your say so?" The child said calmly, putting his letter aside and meeting Severus eyes.
Severus sneered, a simple transfiguration turning one of the child's trophies into a snake, "If that will suffice?" He drawled, turning it back. A furrow between his brows as the child simply nodded as if in confirmation, picking his letter up again and reading the list of supplies.
Severus might not have done this routine with a lot of children. But calm acceptance was not how any of them reacted. Ever.
"I don't have the money to purchase any of this." The child said quietly, meeting his eyes again. The confident and calm gaze not belonging to any orphan Severus had ever seen.
It did very much remind him of Sirius Black, however. Another mark against this irritant of a child.
"The tuition is paid for, and there is a modest amount of money put aside for your kind, to get supplies, Mr Greenwood." Severus explained with distaste.
The boy tilts his head, his lips twisting in amusement. "My kind? Due to being an orphan? Or am I not magic, like you?"
Severus bit back a retort that would have been beneath his position. Merlin, he was sick of brats, especially ones bringing back memories best left buried, "Orphan, but rest assured, you're nothing like me, Mr Greenwood."
"Fair enough, I thank you for taking the time to come and explain this, I'm sorry, I didn't get your name, Professor?"
The child kept staring at him intently with those familiar gray eyes, usually children were not so calm under his scrutiny and dislike. There was something odd about this one. Unable to help himself he utilized Legilimency to skim the boys' surface thoughts.
"Severus Snape, I am the Potions Professor and Head of Slytherin house at Hogwarts." He said on autopilot as he encountered Occlumency shields, half built, shoddy and rudimentary, but there. In a muggleborn.
"Who trained you?" Severus hissed out lowly, "No muggleborn this young has mental shields." His fingers tighten on his wand.
The boy eyed him consideringly, "Are you familiar with Sherlock Holmes, Professor Snape?"
"Of course I am! Answer the question, child!" Severus bit out. This impudent boy, answering his question with a question. Ten points from Gryffindor, he thought viciously, instantly feeling better. He'd have the boy scrubbing cauldrons the day after the sorting, disrespectful brat!
"I simply believed an organized mind was essential for my studies, and attempted to construct a mind palace. I believe these might be the mental shields you're talking about?" The boy explained calmly, shrugging after, "I have not been trained in magic."
Severus eye's narrowed as he stared the boy down. His mind was thinking rapidly. He did indeed, now that the boy mentioned it, remember such a mention of a mind palace. He hadn't read muggle fiction for a very long time. Yet to succeed in creating Occlumency shields, even if only half built and shoddy... "Lying will not serve you well at Hogwarts." He says silkily, watching the boy.
The boy's eyes narrow in anger? Frustration? Severus watched as he calmed himself almost immediately, a sign of someone with heavy mental focus. He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he thought furiously. This was unprecedented, perhaps there was something to the intelligence purported by the newspaper clippings. Then again, performing Occlumency without the aid of a teacher or a book did have its pitfalls… Does he care enough to warn the boy? One look at that face, so like his detested memories and Severus is decided. It's not his problem. The issues the boy might face is entirely of his own making, and as he's likely not becoming one of his snakes. It's entirely not his problem to deal with.
"I do not need to lie." The boy finally responded, coldly and with his chin tilted up.
"Perhaps." Severus answered clippedly. "I don't care, either way. I will be taking you for your shopping. Stand and hold out your arm." Whatever mystery lay here, he had all year at Hogwarts to figure it out. He would get hives if he continued this interaction. The boy's story was mildly plausible, if unlikely. There were some cases of highly intelligent purebloods developing Occlumency shields without training or books, never before a muggleborn that he knew of. Perhaps Albus would know. Then again if he told the Headmaster, he'd probably force Severus to tutor the boy, so no, there was no need for asking Albus.
He had already spent his limited patience on this boy, and he still had the damned shopping to go through. The most premier potions master in the British Isles, and he is reduced to chauffeuring insolent brats around. If the headmaster wasn't the wizard he was, Severus would curse him to within an inch of his life for this indignity.
"Now!" He snapped angrily, as the child loitered, appearing unwilling to hold out his arm. Either way, mystery or not, it was a small matter, not worthy of his energy, better to finish the day and return to his potions. At the end of the day it was still just a muggleborn orphan. Destined for mediocrity. Like the rest of the dunderheads.
Ever since Lily, not a single one of the damn cretins had the proper appreciation for the magic they so wastefully squandered.
Damn this child, his mind had fallen back into the past, a place he avoided whenever possible.
As the child held his arm out, Severus grabbed it and immediately apparated them both to Diagon Alley. He was not gentle about it.
He did not bother to warn the child.
Its intelligence had somewhat mollified him away from its likeness to Sirius Black who had been an absolute sickness to the species.
Yet Severus Snape sneered with a mild sense of victory as he walked away from the apparation point, the child vomiting loudly onto the cobblestones.
You had to take pleasure from the little things in life.
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When Severus Snape is the one to appear for my introduction I am admittedly disappointed. What was my luck exactly? I'd have preferred Hagrid.
The sneer of contempt on his face as he looks at my room and my small amount of possessions and trophies - the way his cold eyes assess me with immediate dislike. So much for a magical introduction. I think distastefully. The Potions professor is definitely one of my most disliked characters, bravery and sacrifice notwithstanding, he was an absolute asshole to the ninth degree. It seems the feeling was going to be mutual.
At least I have confirmation I have indeed begun crafting Occlumency shields. I have not yet been able to enter my mind space, so I wasn't sure if I was doing anything, or if it was all wishful thinking. I am not too worried about Snape's sudden suspicions, I am a muggleborn with no ties to the magical world. He could look wherever he wanted, he wouldn't find anything. I am somewhat bemused by his complete disregard for actually giving me any proper information. The man hasn't even explained what a muggleborn was. Actually he hasn't really explained anything.
I especially do not appreciate the sudden side-along Apparation. The feeling was just as I remember it being described - reading about in my past life. Like being sucked through a straw, at high speed, the landing is completely disorientating.
I promptly vomit. My head is spinning, as if in a wash cycle - as I fall to my knees. Bile rising in me as I almost get a face full of my own spew, making me vomit yet again.
Not the most pleasant introduction to Diagon Alley, all in all.
Fucking Severus Snape. Was literally every other faculty member incapacitated?
I take a few minutes to regain control of myself, turning away from my mess, taking deep breaths, my view is filled with my first sight of Diagon Alley. The movie and books don't do it justice. The cobblestone street is filled with colorful vendors selling anything beneath the sun, unlike muggle carts, these vendors are magical. And it shows, one cart is entirely made of water, somehow kept in solid state, drawing the eyes to its wares, floating happily inside. Another seems to be offering customers a game of chance, some sort of small furry creature scurrying in and out of obstacles in a rotating maze kind of vendor cart, customers placing down money, apparently on where the creature will be caught, of if it will make it through, the maze constantly reinventing itself as it goes along. It's absolutely amazing and mind boggling and I have trouble keeping my eyes off it long enough to see the rest of the alley.
The stores and buildings are so obviously magical, not two of them alike. Many do not appear to be made of regular building materials, and are instead made of what seems to be whatever picked the owner's fancy. I can see a store that actually appears to be made of clouds, somehow made solid enough, while still looking fluffy and like they might float away on a breeze. Madame Desantier's beauty products it proclaims in floating letters above the entrance.
Above me in the alley, several bridges of white almost iridescent marble, sculpted with magical beasts and flora - floats in the air over the street, connecting second and third storey buildings to each other. The buildings rooftops all appear to have gardens on-top, a light refreshing smell diffusing across the alley, no doubt flower gardens then, a smart decorative and functional addition to the buildings. It made me question if I was really in the right wizarding world, it just seems so much more magical.
Enchanted lights, or possibly fairies - it's too hard to tell - are fluttering around in the air, now and then shining upon a particular storefront's sign with a flashing display of colors. Before flying off, zig zagging around shoppers - just to explode in a spray of rainbows above the bridges, and then they'd return again to advertising the signs of the various businesses. I am sure I look like the outsider I am as I simply stand there and take it in, eyes wide with just the joy of seeing so much magic! I wanted to know how it worked!
Of course I haven't exactly arrived with the right person for such wonder…
"Stop gawking, you daft child, here is some money for your supplies, do not waste it!" Severus Snape returns and shoves a pouch at me, eyes full of distaste for the whole process or just me, I wasn't sure.
This man has absolutely no joy in his heart. How can he just ignore the wonders around us?
"Will it be enough?" I jiggle the pouch doubtfully, it's feeling very low.
Snape sneers at me, dark beady eyes meeting mine. "I only gave you enough for your wand and robes. I will gather the rest of your supplies while performing my own errands."
I could definitely hear the unspoken dunderhead and have to fight back a roll of the eyes. I hardly need to antagonize him if he was going to walk away and leave me be. "Where and when should I meet you again, sir?" I ask politely instead.
Snape simply turns around with a dramatic swish of his robes, "I will find you." He spits out, disappearing into the crowds.
I stand there for a minute, half of mind to go into muggle London and make the man eat his words. How hard is it to say one hour at the Leaky Cauldron or something. The man just has to be contrary and hard to deal with, no matter what. Unfortunately the bastard probably tagged me with a tracking charm. I sigh, shaking my head, it's not worth it to purposely mess with him. My day is already going much worse than I had hoped for my introduction. Was it too much to ask for McGonagall or Flitwick or even Sprout?
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I look up at the absolute magic scenery around me, shimmering trees of no kind I've ever heard of reaching up all the way to the bridges above every dozen or so meters, their colors changing intermittently. I don't know what change has brought this, or if the world is simply more alive then what could fit in a book series. I like it even so. I look around as I slowly meander, keeping an eye out for Madam Malkin's but not rushing. Snape hasn't given me a time to meet up, so although I better be ready when he comes to find me, I only have two things to shop for, so I hardly need to rush.
I walk by so many stores I want to explore, if only I had the time, or the money for it! A store just for magical clocks and watches! The display window feature out of this world pieces, including a watch that promises it can translate up to 40 languages if attached to your wrist. Another measures the speed of your thoughts, which I have no idea what that even means or why? Yet, how cool is that? Not to mention the fact that the actual shop is shaped like a grandfather's clock! The clock at the top is visible across Diagon Alley.
The toy store is three storeys and absolutely bonkers, each layer looks like it's going to slip off the previous one, toy animals periodically poke their heads out of random parts of the building and roar. There is an actual slide from the third floor down to the first. Even without the mind of a child I am sorely tempted to go inside. Magic in all its iterations is just so interesting and above all fun!
There's an actual invisible store. I stand by the sign for a moment, just reading it. Taking it all in.
Shafir's invisible emporium
Only visible between the hours of 3pm and 7pm Monday to Friday. 1pm to 5pm Saturday to Sunday.
Do not attempt to enter during off hours.
It doesn't even say what they sell, but who cares. Just think of how amazing it is to have a store which disappears and reappears. A timed invisibility spell or ritual that affects an entire building? Is this what ancient runes and arithmancy can do? I can't wait! I'm kind of disappointed it's currently invisible. With a longing glance I move on.
Too soon I arrive at Madam Malkin's. Sending glances down the street at the far stretches of the road and the tantalizing sights I'm missing out on. I'd best not try Snape's patience however. I hardly need to ensure I get the Harry Potter treatment in class after all, that would be… Irritating.
"Hello dearie, Hogwarts?" A plump dark haired witch in magenta robes attacks me the second I step over the threshold. Not waiting for an answer before grabbing my arm and somehow having me up on a podium so fast I don't really realize how it happens. I guess it's obvious what with me being eleven and all. Yet I'm used to the muggle world where they have particular words for adults that just manhandle kids without a by your leave.
I look around me bewildered. Madame Malkin herself apparently helping another child next to me. She gives me an amused little smile, my confusion apparently endearing. "Sophie can be a little bit enthusiastic." She says and chuckles lightly, as Sophie smiles sheepishly at my side.
"Standard Hogwarts kit?" Sophie asks me with pink cheeks. I don't even answer and Sophie plows on, they really do take eleven year olds for granted as going to Hogwarts. I wonder what they'd say if I pipe up and say I'm a squib for a lark. Best not, I don't need to start trouble.
Madame Malkin is still chuckling at Sophie from behind the likely prospective Hogwarts student she is working on. The one glancing not so subtly at me.
"Hello, my name's Lucas Greenwood." I introduce myself politely.
The girl blushes at being caught looking, shrinking a bit, seemingly shy. I keep an open expression and wait. She's a cute kid, if a bit on the short side. Asian heritage, short bob of black hair and intelligent amber eyes.
"I'm…Su Li." She says softly when she realizes I'm still waiting patiently on her introduction.
"Nice to meet you, Hogwarts too?" I ask, purposefully going a bit extra cheerful. My sister had been the same once, showing how happy you were to talk to them usually helped. Or putting them in a headlock. But that would hardly work here.
Besides if she was anything like my sister she'd retaliate with a groin shot, and I'd prefer to avoid that.
"Yes… Umm.. Nice to meet you." She ducks her head shyly as she answers.
"What house do you think you'll go to?" I ask politely, as Sophie the enthusiastic sales witch starts measuring me, tapping her wand here and there, a measuring tape flying around me.
"Ravenclaw!" She enthuses, much more open, her eyes shining with excitement. Before she blushes and ducks her head again, looking at me through her eyelashes.
"That's great!" I give her a thumbs up, catching her small smile. "I think I'll be a Ravenclaw too to be honest, maybe we can study together sometime?"
Madame Malkin takes this opportunity to declare my new buddy done, and she hops off the podium, becoming even shorter to me as I have to look further down to catch her eyes.
She squirms slightly as she looks up at me, "Okay?" She squeaks adorably.
"Making a friend, Su?" A honeyed voice calls out. I turn as much as I can, Sophie giving me a tiny swat and a muttered "Stand still."
"Mooom!" Su Li doesn't quite whine, but her voice does reach a certain squeaky level that's just cute. I can't help but smile. I hope these kids won't end up disliking me as much as the orphans have. Maybe magic would be the equalizer to enable me to get along with people mentally younger than me.
As I spot Su's mom I almost drop my jaw. Long silky black hair, honey coloured eyes, a beautiful exotic face with just a bit of a hint of makeup in smoky accents around the eyes, I can't help but trail my eyes over her lithe, sculpted body, she's wearing a tight fitting dress and black heels instead of regular robes. I one hundred percent wish I had my adult body right now. I can honestly say I've never seen a woman that's so much… That!
I blush as she gives me a knowing look, having caught me staring. She must get it alot, but it's embarrassing to be caught out checking her out at my age.
"You'll meet your new friend at Hogwarts, spitfire, we have a reservation." She says soothingly to the embarrassed Su.
Su gives me a shy wave, ears burning red, no doubt from having her nickname just tossed out there. I want to know what exactly could have made this shy cute little girl earn the nickname spitfire.
Her mother looks just as good leaving as she did entering. At least I wasn't in puberty yet, that could have made this even more embarrassing.
I soon finish as well and I'm given my set of the Hogwarts starter kit, shrunken down for my convenience. So I saunter out of the store in search of Ollivanders.
The premier wand supplier of Britain has probably the most non magical building in Diagon Alley. Looking faded and unimportant mashed in between two larger magically extravagant buildings. The dusty display window only holds a faded purple pillow with one wand laying on it. Yet I'm still almost breathless as I approach. This is the moment.
I open the door, anticipation filling me as the jingly bell atop the door announces my arrival. The shop is barely lit, dark shadows dancing across the stacks of wand boxes. I jump slightly as suddenly Ollivander appears from one of the shadowed corners. He does this on purpose, what a drama queen! I think in delight. I almost expect musical accompaniment.
"Rarely do I see such delight at my appearance." The absolute troll deadpans at me.
"They just don't appreciate a good jump scare." I say politely. I'm almost vibrating with impatience and excitement however.
"An excitable customer, eh? I know just what to try then." Ollivander says, snapping his fingers theatrically, floating wax candles brightening and shining light on the room, measuring tape flying out from behind the counter to begin measuring me.
"Is that wandless magic or do you have the candles and measuring tape set to do certain actions when you give audio cues like snapping your fingers?" I ask curiously, the measuring tape going uncomfortably close up the lining of my leg. I slap at it and it flies up and taps me on the nose reprovingly. I stick out my tongue and the cheeky thing promptly measures it.
Ollivander just chuckles quietly, hands hovering over several wand boxes. The measuring tape flies back to him and circles him a few times. I wonder if it's actually giving him information somehow or if it's all theatrics. I don't ask, he's as unlikely to answer as my last question. I'll learn eventually. I have a whole life to study magic.
"Dogwood, 10 inches, unicorn hair, a wand for the creative and quirky." Ollivander says, eyes shining as he watches me grab the wand, I stare at it in disappointment, no reaction.
"Hmm, I would have thought dogwood was a match, nevermind, we'll find the proper match, never worry!" And so begins a half hour wand matching marathon.
Wand after wand being handed over, most ripped out of my hand before I can even begin to try and get a feel of it. To my annoyance Ollivander deftly dodges any questions I ask about the different properties of wand cores and its effect on a magic wand and a wizard. He's slightly more accommodating on wand woods, slightly.
Finally it seems I'm drawing closer to a match, or at least so Ollivander says, pretty sure on my core and attributes of my wand, still searching for a proper match with the wood.
"Ebony, 11 and a half inches, springy, dragon heartstring, give it a try." Ollivander hands me a wand and then immediately takes it away as soon as my fingertips touch it, "No, definitely not right, tricky. Hmm."
The measuring tape taps a wand box high above us, and Ollivander looks at it with thought before waving a hand, having it float down to me, the wandbox opening and the wand presented to me.
"Ah, maybe, I think it might… Here, 10 and a half inches, rigid, core of dragon heartstring from an Ukrainian ironbelly. Walnut wood." Ollivander steps back with an expecting look on his face as I reach out and grab the wand.
I feel a tingle racing through my spine, shooting through my arm, my entire body feeling energized as a multitude of colors explode out of the wand, into the air. Ollivander claps delightedly. The lights above us dance along with the claps, briefly drawing my mind to wonder if they are indeed controlled by audio cues.
I pay for my wand, mournfully looking at wand holsters but deciding I definitely can not afford them with my Hogwarts orphan funds. Perhaps with the small amount of money I've made in the muggle world when I come back.
Ollivander snaps his fingers and the store darkens yet again as I'm about to leave, Ollivander starting to slide back into the darkness. the man not even moving his feet.
"How do you do that?" I ask yet again, making a try at puppy dog eyes, although I think I lack the innocence needed to pull it off.
Ollivander winks at me, "A magician never reveals his tricks." Then he's swallowed up into the darkness of his store.
I leave Ollivanders, new wand in hand, having learned a valuable life lesson. I can not pull off puppy dog eyes.
Sadly I find Snape waiting for me. I don't even get to greet him before he turns around, dramatically flaring his cloak again, and stalking off towards the Apparation point, obviously intending me to follow. Wizards are drama queens. I muse to myself, trying to keep up with his long strides with my smaller legs. No sooner do we arrive then he grabs me and my world turns topsy turvy again, depositing me on my ass, back in my room at the orphanage.
On the plus side I do not vomit this time.
"Here is the rest of your supplies." Snape waves his wand, and a beaten up looking plain trunk shimmers into sight. "Do not use magic in the muggle world, do not tell anyone about the magical world." Snape sneers as he deposits the trunk onto the floor next to me with a loud thud. At least it sounded relatively full. "Here is your ticket to the Hogwarts Express and the information on how to get there." He tosses the ticket on my bed, I have still not regained my equilibrium when he gives me one last impressive sneer, and then he Apparates out of my room without a word of goodbye.
I can't help but feel he's not really doing his job in protecting the statue of secrecy, literally teleporting me in and out, the staff and other kids never seeing him leave, or our return.
I eye the heavy duty trunk, no wheels, no handle, how exactly is my tiny ass going to move this anywhere? I have plans and everything and this is really inconvenient. A quick push on it proves that I did not have a magically lightweight trunk, just a cheap old heavy one with all my supplies in it.
I really wish I could have gotten Hagrid.
He could have carried my trunk for me.
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My plans for the rest of the summer get a one day delay as I have to sneak out to the hardware store the next day and use some of my scholarship money and competition winnings to buy a handle, some wheels and the tools to put them on my trunk. It was such a waste to spend my money on something I could probably make float by magic within the week. But needs must.
Once my trunk is mobile, I lie to the matron about the school offering board early to first year students, and that the man from the other day will be here to pick me up the next morning. She promptly wishes me the best and scampers. Leaving me to go on the bus and head for Charing Cross the next morning without the matron showing her face.
I was fairly sure this carelessness was not how orphanages operated. Maybe Snape confounded her or something. Or possibly he was just that scary.
A hop and a skip later and I am at the Leaky Cauldron. I roll my trunk up to the counter. Having to wait a few moments for Tom the barkeep to notice me. He fascinates me. In a world of magic, he looks like a knobbly potato with no dental plan. Couldn't magic fix all that?
"What can I do for yeh, lad?" He asks kindly.
I put the last of my magical money on the counter, "Can I rent a room for a day with this, I'll need a room until September 1st too, but I have to go exchange my parents money at Gringotts first, I'm muggleborn, you see." I explain, keeping my expression open and honest. No lies here, yes siree.
"It sure is enough, lad." Tom says after a pause. "Yer parents' letting you stay 'ere rest of summer?" He continues disapprovingly.
I nod, trying to make my smile more genuine. "Yes, sir, this magic thing is new to me, see. So my parents figured it would do me good to experience it a bit before I go to school." The wizarding world doesn't have child safety laws. Please buy it you old barkeep! I think, mentally crossing my fingers.
Tom scops up the money on offer, giving me a sad smile with too few teeth, no doubt thinking my parents aren't comfortable with magic. If sympathy gets me a month in Diagon Alley, then I'll be the most sympathetic motherfucker in town.
"Hmm, 'rite, I reckon room twelve is free for a bit." He hands me a large metal key with ten printed on it.
I look up at him, brows furrowed, silently I turn the key around so the number ten is prominently displayed. Wizards can count, right?
"Ah, of course." Tom laughs, a scraggly scratchy kind of laugh. "Yeh, get used to it with magic, lad. Key ten only works for room number twelve fer some reason." He pauses for a moment, " 'Xcept on Wednesdays. Then you gotta use key six for yer room so don't forget to come get it on those days lad."
I study the key, eyes intent, turning it over in my hands. Did these keys hold inherent magic, or was it the building that over the decades grew quirky. If the keys were melted down or remade would they still behave the same way, or was it just this set that did so and Tom hadn't bothered to change them. Did magical buildings gain sentience? And is that why Hogwarts staircases and other quirks were so abundant?
"A claw if I ever saw one." Tom chuckles. "Go on then lad, I reckon yeh got more interesting things to study then me keys." He shooes me off as I give him a distracted wave. Still pondering if magic was alive and could affect change just by being. And if so, did magic have a sense of humor? Or was it just enchantments and spells growing old and starting to act out?
As I reach the door to my room, and deposit my trunk inside, after carefully using the key to open the door. I put the key away in my pocket and refocus myself. I in no way had a fortune through my winnings and scholarship money. But it should be enough to pay for room and board for the month. So I'd need to visit Gringotts. I carefully take out the money I have saved and hidden away from workers and other children, just in case. My room has definitely been searched a few times, so my precautions did end up being useful. I put the envelope of money in my other pocket, with my wand. I am unlikely to lose anything from that side, considering I barely could stop myself from holding on to my wand at all times.
The streets are quieter now, as it is later in the afternoon then it was during my Snape induced shopping trip. It makes it easier to traverse the magical district. I still have to restrain myself from checking every interesting store front I see. Even if I get any spending money left over, it surely wouldn't be enough for all the things I could see and desire so strongly.
Gringotts is just as splendid as I imagined. The large marble building practically shines as a beacon leading you to it at the end of Diagon Alley. Its tall gates open and inviting, with its lovely warning written for all to see, showcasing that goblins do have some flair. Goblin guards peering distrustfully at all comers. There are plenty of queuing people inside, luckily and perhaps not surprisingly, the counter to exchange muggle money is empty, manned by a grumpy looking goblin who sneers at me as soon as I approach.
"I'd like to exchange this for wizarding money." I say politely but to the point, handing the envelope over, having to stand on my toes to achieve this - as the counters are not made with eleven year olds in mind. Anything I remember about goblins is not particularly nice, so I doubted there was any point in me asking questions.
"Where are your parents?" The goblin asks brusquely, one finger slowly dragging the envelope his way.
"Do I need them to exchange money?" I ask, eyebrows raised questioningly.
The goblin stares down at me piercingly. "No..." It finally decides to say slowly. Before ignoring me to check the money over, running a finger over the stack, before ringing a tiny bell that's atop his counter.
Another goblin dressed less business-like then the counter goblin appears suddenly. This one looks younger too, a page goblin? Apprentice goblin? I really want to ask questions, but hold back. Books will have to do. No one's going to take me seriously trying to find out anything at my age.
"Bring this wizard child 412 galleons, 13 sickles and 8 knuts." The counter goblin orders with a sneer. The other one quickly disappears again, and to my chagrin I can't catch how, even though I was looking right at it.
"That's a lot, can I open an account?" I ask, having had no idea on the exchange rate of money between the worlds. Having seen Tom's cheap prices, my month-long stay wouldn't put as much of a dent in my funds as I had thought.
"This is not the new accounts counter." The goblin glares down at me, tapping the sign for the exchange counter.
I sigh, having expected that answer really. I silently wait for my money, the goblin glowering down at me like my existence as a child in their bank was a personal offense. It appears my readings of the Harry Potter book were not incorrect about the goblins being douches so far. I'm not sure how much I can blame them when I remember how the wizarding world treats literally everyone. It is highly inconvenient when I am the one dealing with the bullshit though.
Considering the statue in the Ministry of Magic. I probably would be grouchy too if I was one of the lesser races, according to the law of the land.
The apprentice goblin reappears. My haul of money dropped in front of me. All of it. Loose money. On the ground. I close my eyes and sigh explosively. I open them and look up at the grumpy goblin, the apprentice having already disappeared off to wherever they go. "I assumed I would get my money in a way I could carry it." I say mildly. Cursing at goblins is not a viable strategy, do not curse. I think irritably.
"You can carry it." The goblin replies with a nasty smirk.
"I mean carried in like a bag, or a pouch." I point out, still remaining polite.
"Gringotts is a bank. Not a store. If you want to purchase a bag there is a store for that, not far from Gringotts." The goblin leers down at me. Well aware I can't just pick up some 400 galleons in my hands and walk off to the store. I have tiny pipsqueak hands.
"I did not think this through." I muse out loud staring at my pile of money. Then again who would quite expect the goblins to be this kind of petty dicks?
"I suppose I couldn't, for a fee, have someone go get me a bag or hold the money for me while I do so?" I ask resignedly, not really expecting anything.
"Of course, Gringotts offer many varied services for a fee." The goblin smiles at me, eyes lit up in sheer malicious delight.
I sigh, "Let me guess. The cost for all of them right at this moment, just happens to be 412 galleons?"
"And 13 sickles and 8 knuts… Seems wizarding children can learn." The bastard goblin chuckles darkly.
"Are you alright, lad?" A voice comes from behind me.
I turn slightly sideways and eye the very fat man. Jesus, that's Horace Slughorn! I think, mind spinning. I quickly paste a smile on my face and turn to face him fully.
"Me and my goblin friend are having a disagreement on the cost of getting my money in a way to actually carry it out." I say politely, then I squirm slightly, affecting a slight hitch to my voice. "You are… Horace Slughorn aren't you? The Potions master?" I make my eyes go big and wide staring up at him.
The voluminous spider of Slytherin strokes his silver walrus mustache. "I am, although I was unaware I was famous enough for newcomers to recognize me."
One hardly needed to be a genius let alone a Slytherin to figure out I am a muggleborn, considering where I'm standing right now.
I look down, affecting a blush to the best of my ability. "I have read everything I can about potions, it's just so fascinating!" I rush out, before looking up at him shyly. "You're like the top potions master in the world aren't you?
Slughorn smirks slightly, twirling the end of his mustache. "Well, I wouldn't say top, perhaps." He preens. Visibly pleased. You'd think a Slytherin would pick out a liar better.
"Even professor Snape didn't have anything bad to say about you when he escorted me for my shopping, so that must mean you're really great." I look around guiltily before whispering. "Because he had something bad to say about everyone and everything!"
Slughorn chuckles, "Severus you say?" He seems highly amused. No doubt imagining a poor muggleborn chasing after the dungeon bat. "What is your name, lad?"
"Lucas Greenwood, sir!" I say, standing straight at attention, making the man chuckle more.
With a wave of his wand Slughorn deposits my money in a pouch that he takes out from his voluminous robes, the gold spiraling through the air in a pretty little dance. "There you go lad, keep the pouch. And don't let Severus…hrm, attitude bother you, study hard and I'm sure you can become something in potions as well." He winks at me, "I have something of an eye for talent."
"Thank you sir!" I say, holding onto the pouch tightly, "I'll work hard and you'll see my name in a potions journal one day!" Maybe I'm laying it on a bit thick… I think bemusedly.
Nevermind, I think after Slughorn then spends another fifteen minutes talking to me and humble bragging a lot! The poor goblin is looking very chagrined, perhaps even regretting messing with me and making this scenario happen. I couldn't help but take advantage, Slughorn has a lot of connections, I would probably have my name in the paper within the year if my plans progress properly. This contact would be useful going forward. What a fluke.
Finally the goblin manages to draw Slughorn's attention for what he actually came here to do and I'm let go. With a free mokeskin pouch. Lucky day for me indeed. And how rich was Slughorn that he could just randomly dump mokeskin pouches on random orphans.
I don't bother making an account for my money today, having had enough of goblins for a day. Instead I return to the Leaky Cauldron, pay Tom for the whole month. And head up to my room. I have books to devour. And then. Then I have magic to practice.
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I'm barely in my room before I take my wand out, inspecting it reverently. Walnut wood, Ollivander had explained during the thirty minutes of matching, belonged to the intelligent wizard or witch, the magical innovator, a wand that bowed its head to those of brilliance and as long as one was on the path of brilliance would never lose loyalty or strength.
My wand was dark chocolate brown with a reddish tint throughout, the wood rising into three small spiraling rings starting close to the base and continuing into the middle of the wand before turning into smoothness for the middle end and tip. I love it already. I take a deep breath. I know the wand movement, I know the spell. Here goes nothing!
"Lumos!" I cast. Feeling elation even as I only got a sputter of light from the tip of my wand for a second.
No greater thought put into it, simply the words and wand movement, and I performed a minorly successful attempt. If I am correct about willpower and intent, it should greatly enhance a spells power or effectiveness.
I concentrate, imagining switching on a light to shine bright, to banish the darkness. "Lumos!"
I grin as a bright light appears from the tip of my wand. I focus my attention on it, mentally willing it to shine brighter. Slowly the light intensity rises. It truly is all about will and the ability to mentally project the outcome, imposing my will on reality. At least for such basic spells.
I will have a distinct advantage over the other students with this. Not to mention the fact I'm an adult that can write essays in my sleep. Thank you all my college professors!
I imagine it as if I'm switching off a light switch, wanting to plunge back into darkness. "Nox." I say, not at all surprised when the spell ends perfectly. My focus and ability to press my will is enough for a first year spell.
I tilt my head in thought, wondering, with the focus and mental acuity I have to my advantage with my mental age. Could I go even further, first years, even some purebloods, somehow struggle with Lumos. Can I, not even a student yet, utilize the Maxima variation? It is worth a try. I'd like to see if it feels different.
I imagine the power of the sun, bursting forth, vanishing all darkness in one bright explosion of light. I paint the picture mentally and I will it into being, "Lumos Maxima!"
"Nox!" I sputter out seconds later. Blinking heavily, tears in my eyes. The spell had worked, the sheer brightness shining out of my wand almost blinding me. I'd have to experiment with the spell and see if I could mentally adjust it so that I would not be blinded by the light of my own spell.
I take stock, it might be a trick of the mind, the flash of light affecting me, but I do feel slightly mentally fatigued. As if I've spent a session of intense studying. I'll have to try it at a later point with another spell that did not have the side effect of blinding me.
I put my wand away with a sigh. I couldn't help but try spells first, just to see. To feel it. To feel like a wizard. Now though it was time to study first. I need to read the magical theory book all first years bought, then perhaps spend some of my leftover money on some more specific and advanced magical theory books. I need to know the basics before I go too far in spellcasting and accidentally do damage to myself or learn bad habits that would impact me later.
I open the trunk, fishing around inside until I get the correct book. And then I lay down on the ridiculously comfortable bed, (Thank you magic!) And I crack open the page. One hand resting on my walnut wand. Just not able to completely leave it be.
I could do magic.
No one was going to take that away from me.
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