Diagon Alley buzzed with life, an explosion of colors, sounds, and scents filling the narrow, winding streets. Witches and wizards of all ages squeezed past gleaming shop windows, carrying wrapped packages, bags brimming with supplies, and cages with screeching owls.
Children and teenagers wove through the crowd, some with anxious expressions, others beaming with excitement as they darted from shop to shop.
Street vendors' carts hissed as they offered roasted nuts and enchanted popcorn that leapt into buyers' mouths, and a group of goblins played a dissonant melody in a corner, trying to lure customers into a jewelry store.
Lucius left us with a curt wave, saying he had "matters to attend to." Before vanishing into the crowd, he placed a heavy sack of Galleons in my hands, the leather clinking with the weight of the coins. "Buy what you need. We'll meet back here."
I looked at Draco, who seemed very interested in wandering through Diagon Alley unsupervised. "What are we buying first?" I asked, slipping the coin pouch into my coat pocket.
"Let me see." He pulled the shopping list from his trouser pocket and unfolded it. "I think… let's get my wand first?"
"Hmm." I leaned in to look at the list, the text written in elegant handwriting.
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 of glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set of brass scales
Students may also bring an Owl OR a Cat OR a Toad.
*PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.*
"Oh, you won't be able to bring your broom," I pointed out, nodding to the bold warning at the bottom of the list. Draco had received a broomstick for his eleventh birthday, a gift he never stopped bragging about. I, on the other hand, would have to wait until my next birthday to get one.
Draco made a face, folding the paper and stuffing it back into his pocket. "I'm going to try sneaking it in," he said with a conspiratorial grin, already starting to walk toward the crowd.
"Good luck with that," I shot back, following him.
The shop windows of Diagon Alley sparkled in the afternoon sun, displaying everything from cauldrons to self-writing quills. We passed Flourish and Blotts, where a stack of books seemed ready to collapse on a group of excited girls, and the Eeylops Owl Emporium, where a high-pitched screech escaped from a cage.
Draco didn't look around like I did, too focused on getting his wand. I can't blame him — I'll probably be the same way next year.
After a bit more walking, we stopped in front of a time-worn sign, swaying gently in the breeze: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
'To think that this bloodline has been making wands for so long...'
"Finally," Draco muttered, pushing open the wooden door, which creaked as it moved. A bell jingled in the back of the shop, and the scent of polished wood and something indefinably magical filled the air. The store was narrow, with shelves crammed full of wand boxes stacked to the ceiling. A sliding ladder rested against one of the tall cases, and the counter ahead stood empty.
Draco looked around, eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Where's the old man?"
Before I could reply, a raspy, calm voice echoed from the back of the shop. "Patience, young Malfoy. A wand is not chosen in haste." From the shadows emerged an elderly man — most likely Mr. Ollivander himself. His silver eyes gleamed under the dim light, and an enigmatic smile curved his lips as he studied us with a gaze that seemed to pierce the soul.
Draco stepped back, nearly bumping into me. "How do you know who I am?!"
Ollivander raised an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Ah, my boy, I've supplied wands to generations of Malfoys. The resemblance is unmistakable." He stepped forward with slow, deliberate steps, pulling a measuring tape from his waistcoat pocket. "It feels like just yesterday your parents came in to get their wands. But never mind that—what is your dominant arm?"
Draco, still a little wary, extended his right arm, casting a look at me as if to say 'this better be worth it.' Mr. Ollivander began measuring from shoulder to fingertip, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and around the head.
I watched as the tape started moving on its own, tracing paths around Draco. His face, initially stoic, flickered with surprise when the tape brushed the back of his neck, and he shot me a startled glance.
Suddenly, Ollivander, who had glided away with quick, silent steps to the crammed shelves, shouted from somewhere in the shop, "That's enough!" The tape froze midair, folded itself like a piece of parchment, and dropped limply to the floor.
Draco looked from the fallen tape to me, his expression a mix of shock and annoyance. I just shrugged, unsure of what to say.
At that moment, Ollivander emerged from the shadows, holding a narrow, dusty box. He opened it with care, revealing a wand. "Let's try this one: oak, dragon heartstring core, ten inches, firm," he said, handing it to Draco.
Draco took the wand, but the instant he gave it a wave, a vase in the corner of the shop exploded into shards.
Ollivander didn't even blink. "Definitely not," he said, swiftly snatching the wand from Draco's hand. "Let's try another."
The second wand, ebony with the same core, eleven inches, felt inert in Draco's grip. He held it, frowning, and gave it a subtle flick.
Nothing happened.
"This one doesn't work!" Draco exclaimed, handing it back with a frustrated sigh.
"Patience," Ollivander said calmly, already rummaging through another shelf. "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Malfoy, not the other way around." He returned with a third box, this one adorned with silver detailing. "Try this one: hawthorn, unicorn hair core, ten inches, reasonably pliant."
Draco took the wand, clearly starting to lose his patience. But the moment he wrapped his fingers around it, something changed in his expression, and a wide smile spread across his face.
'Looks like that's the one', I thought, seeing the joy in his eyes.
Ollivander clapped his hands, delighted. "Excellent! Hawthorn—wood for those with complex natures—and unicorn hair provides precision and loyalty. A perfect match for you, Mr. Malfoy."
Draco twirled the wand between his fingers, the smile still on his face. "I like it…"
"Well, Mr. Malfoy, if you could hand it back so I can wrap it up," Ollivander said in a playful yet firm tone. "We wouldn't want any adult thinking you're already using it, would we?"
"O-of course," Draco replied, handing over the wand with visible reluctance. Ollivander wrapped it carefully in a new box.
"How much is it, sir?" I asked, pulling the pouch of Galleons from my pocket.
"Ten Galleons, young Malfoy," he said, handing the package to Draco. I opened the pouch and counted out the amount, while Draco was already heading out of the shop, holding the box like it was a trophy.
I raised my hand with the ten Galleons. But he didn't take them right away. Instead, he looked at me with those silvery eyes that seemed to see beyond what was in front of them. "You must be the next one from your family to visit me, aren't you? I'll be waiting for you next year, young man. A special wand is already waiting, I'm sure of it."
I blinked, surprised. "I… uh, thank you, Mr. Ollivander."
He smiled, an enigmatic smile that seemed to know more than he was letting on, and finally took the ten Galleons from my hand. I nodded in farewell and quickly stepped out of the shop. 'So that's the best wandmaker in the world? What a... peculiar man.'
***
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters, images or songs featured in this fic. Additionally, I do not claim ownership of any products or properties mentioned in this novel. This work is entirely fanfic.