Chapter 11: The Shopping Trip
The July morning air in the Lhaerys fortress was different. There was no tension from recently arrived letters, nor the solemnity of history lessons. There was an electricity, a vibrant anticipation that ran through the corridors, touching everyone, but especially the siblings. It was the day of the trip to Diagon Alley.
In Vaenyra's room, the usual order was maintained with almost military precision. Her travel robes, in dark, practical tones, were folded on the bed. She mentally reviewed the list of school supplies Serena had prepared, each item already etched into her memory. There was no room for the excessive excitement of an ordinary child; instead, a calculated anticipation, a preparation for the next stage of her training. She saw herself in the mirror, her violet eyes fixed, her expression serious. The sword she had received on her birthday lay on her bed, and the spellbook, a gift from Maeric, was in her bag. She was ready, as always.
In the room next door, the scene was a subtle contrast. Daemyr, though also preparing, displayed a more palpable anxiety. He paced back and forth, his silver hair falling over his eyes as he tried, unsuccessfully, to contain the energy bubbling within him. The list of supplies, for him, was a map to a treasure, each item a portal to new knowledge. He found himself smiling at the mirror, a wide, genuine smile he rarely showed in public.
As he adjusted the clasp of the suitcase, the thought returned, insistent. Hogwarts had been his choice. Not a consensus, not an imposed tradition, a decision announced to the family with the conviction of one who had already traversed that path from within. He clearly remembered the brief silence that followed, the almost imperceptible rigidity in his father's countenance. Maeric had not been pleased; of that, Daemyr had never had doubts. Still, the resistance had been too short. Acceptance had come quickly, almost disconcertingly, as if Maeric had already expected that outcome. As if, by choosing Hogwarts, Daemyr had not defied his father, only confirmed something he had always known.
Unable to contain his agitation, Daemyr opened the suitcase that would serve as Sunfyre's home while he was at Hogwarts. The golden dragon, now a little larger, but still quite small for the large space, raised its head, its liquid gold eyes blinking. Daemyr reached out, and Sunfyre rubbed its head against his fingers, a low, vibrant purr echoing in the magical space of the suitcase. "Today's the day, boy," Daemyr whispered, his voice full of contained joy. "We're going to London. To Diagon Alley. To our future."
Sunfyre let out a small puff of golden smoke, as if understanding. Daemyr laughed, feeling his connection with his dragon calm the storm of emotions within him a little. He spent a few more minutes playing with Sunfyre, the pure joy of the moment serving as a balm for his anxiety.
Finally, Aelarion's voice echoed through the corridors, a grave and unmistakable call. It was time. Daemyr closed the suitcase, adjusted his robes, and left the room, finding Vaenyra already in the corridor, with her usual composure. Together, they descended to the main hall, where the rest of the family was already waiting for them.
Aelarion, Maeric, Serena, and Lyra were gathered around a small dragon figurine, made of polished obsidian. It was the Portkey. With a nod from Aelarion, everyone reached out and touched the figurine. A strong, sudden tug at the navel, the disorienting sensation of being sucked through space, and then the abrupt landing.
They were in the Romanian Ministry of Magic.
The Romanian Ministry of Magic was a striking contrast to the ancient Lhaerys fortress. Although still imposing, with high ceilings and stone arches, the atmosphere was one of bureaucracy and frantic activity. Witches and wizards hurried through the corridors, parchments flew back and forth, and the murmur of spells and conversations filled the air. The Lhaerys family, with their silver hair and distinguished posture, stood out in the crowd.
They were led to an elegantly decorated office, where the Romanian Minister of Magic, a corpulent man with a neatly trimmed mustache and astute eyes, awaited them. Beside him was a family Maeric immediately recognized: the Stavrescus, one of the oldest and most influential lineages in magical Romania. Lord Stefan Stavrescu, a man with severe features and dark silk robes, was accompanied by his son, Nicu, a young man approximately the same age as Daemyr and Vaenyra, with dark hair and an air of superiority.
"Lord Maeric, Lady Serena," the Minister greeted with a forced smile, extending his hand. "What a pleasure to have you in our humble Ministry. And these must be young Daemyr and Vaenyra. It is an honor." His eyes, however, lingered on the twins with almost indiscreet curiosity.
Lord Stefan Stavrescu, without waiting for a formal introduction, intervened with a tone that bordered on condescension. "Ah, the Lhaerys. Always so... discreet. I hear your children received invitations from all the great schools. A feat, no doubt. My Nicu here," he placed his hand on his son's shoulder, who smiled smugly, "will go to Durmstrang. Where else could a wizard of pure lineage and undeniable power go?"
Maeric, with his usual rigidity, replied: "Durmstrang is, indeed, a respectable institution, Lord Stefan. My own path led me there. However, Daemyr and Vaenyra... they chose Hogwarts."
A heavy silence fell over the room. Lord Stefan's smile froze, and Nicu Stavrescu, who until then had seemed bored, raised an eyebrow in surprise and slight disdain. The Minister cleared his throat, visibly uncomfortable.
"Hogwarts?" Lord Stefan finally managed to say, his tone laden with incredulity and thinly veiled contempt. "But... why? With all due respect, Lord Maeric, Hogwarts is known for its... inclusivity. It is not exactly the cradle of great pure-blood wizards. It is... soft. It is not the place for those who carry so much tradition and respect, like your family."
He tilted his head slightly, as if the mere mention of the name caused him discomfort.
"It's... a curious choice," he added, with a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes. "To trade centuries of legacy for corridors that celebrate mediocrity disguised as virtue. Confess I expected something... more befitting the Lhaerys name."
Maeric pressed his lips together, but before he could respond, the Minister quickly intervened with a conciliatory smile. "Ah, the choices of youth! So full of surprises! But I am sure the Lhaerys will prosper wherever they are. Now, about the Portkey to the British Ministry...
"With the Minister's intervention, the tension eased, but Lord Stefan and Nicu's contempt was palpable. Maeric, though maintaining his composure, felt the sting of the criticism. Daemyr and Vaenyra, in turn, exchanged a glance. They had already felt the weight of their own family's expectations; now, they felt the judgment of the outside wizarding world. The choice of Hogwarts, they realized, would be more challenging than they imagined.
Before the Minister could lead them out, Maeric raised his hand, a restrained yet unquestionable gesture. He turned to Lord Stefan with the studied calm of one accustomed to being underestimated by mistake.
"My family's tradition," he said, in a low yet precise tone, "has always been to recognize opportunities where others see risks, or threats to their own relevance." His gaze remained fixed on Stefan for an instant longer than necessary. "If Hogwarts seems soft to you, then perhaps it is only because it demands adaptation, not accommodation."
He tilted his head slightly, in an almost courteous gesture.
"But I understand your strangeness, Lord Stefan. Not every legacy was built outside of paved paths."
For a brief moment, Stefan's smile wavered, not enough to disappear, but enough to harden his jaw. His fingers slowly closed around his cane, preparing a retort that would never come.
For Maeric had already turned to his family, leading them towards the exit. Daemyr and Vaenyra followed him without looking back. When Lord Stefan finally found his voice, the room was already too empty to receive it.
After the formalities and the handover of the Portkey, the Lhaerys family quickly took their leave, the atmosphere in the room still charged. With a touch of the new Portkey, they were transported to the English Ministry of Magic, leaving behind the curious glances and silent judgment of the Stavrescus.
The British Ministry of Magic was a labyrinth of corridors and offices, but the arrival of the Lhaerys family did not go unnoticed. Instead of emerging in a side alley, the Portkey deposited them directly into a formal reception area, where a high-ranking Ministry official awaited them. He was a middle-aged man, with impeccable robes and an air of contained authority, accompanied by two Aurors in ceremonial attire.
"Lord Maeric, Lady Serena," the official greeted, his voice polished and formal. "It is an honor to welcome you to the Ministry of Magic. I am Severin Finch, Senior Undersecretary of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. We have been informed of your arrival and your children's intention to attend Hogwarts. Welcome to the British Isles."
Maeric, with his usual composure, shook Finch's hand. "We appreciate the reception, Undersecretary Finch. It is a pleasure. My children, Daemyr and Vaenyra. We are eager to begin preparations for the school year."
Finch cast a curious and evaluative glance at the twins, his eyes lingering on their silver hair and violet eyes. "Ah, yes, the young Lhaerys. Your reputation precedes you, I must say. It is a rare event for a family of such distinction to choose our schools. We hope your stay will be fruitful. If you need any assistance during your visit, do not hesitate to contact my department."
After a brief exchange of formalities and confirmation that all arrangements for the visit to Diagon Alley were in order, Finch led them to a discreet exit that led directly to the Leaky Cauldron. The contrast with the Ministry's formality was striking. Here, magic pulsed with a chaotic and vibrant energy, a kaleidoscope of colors, sounds, and smells that assaulted the senses.
The first destination was Gringotts. The imposing and austere white marble building rose above the crooked shops, guarded by severe-faced goblins. Maeric, with his usual efficiency, led the family directly to the main counter. "House Lhaerys already has vaults on the continent," he informed the goblin, his voice blunt. "We have come to open a new one here, for my children, Daemyr and Vaenyra Lhaerys, who will attend Hogwarts."
The goblin, with a keen glance that seemed to weigh the family's lineage and power, nodded. The formalities were brief, and soon Daemyr and Vaenyra held the small silver keys to their new vaults. The visit to the vaults was an experience in itself. The cart, which snaked through underground tunnels at high speed, was an adventure that made Daemyr laugh openly and Vaenyra maintain a serious demeanor, though a sparkle in her eyes betrayed her contained amusement. Inside the vaults, piles of Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts gleamed under the flickering light, a tangible reminder of their family's wealth and power.
With heavy pockets full of money, the Lhaerys family plunged into the bustle of Diagon Alley. The school supply list was long, and each shop was a new discovery. They bought copper cauldrons at the Leaky Cauldron, exotic ingredients at Flourish and Blotts, and the necessary textbooks, which Daemyr eagerly leafed through, while Vaenyra methodically organized them.
Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was a whirlwind of fabrics, floating tape measures, and wizards of all ages trying on their new robes. Daemyr and Vaenyra were quickly placed on platforms, while tape measures whizzed around them. It was there that the unexpected encounter happened.
Two red-haired girls, with hair as vibrant as fire, stood on nearby platforms. They were the same age as Daemyr and Vaenyra. One of them, with freckles dusting her nose and an easy smile, was Penelope Weasley. The other, with a more determined air and bright eyes, was Margaret Prewett.
They looked at Daemyr and Vaenyra with a mixture of curiosity and admiration, especially for their silver hair and violet eyes, so unusual.
"Are you also going to Hogwarts?" Penelope asked, smiling.
Daemyr smiled back, tilting his head in a friendly manner.
"Yes! I'm Daemyr Lhaerys, and this is my sister, Vaenyra Lhaerys. We're the first in our family to study here, so everything is quite new to us."
"Oh, how exciting!" said Penelope, opening her eyes. "I'm Penelope Weasley, and this is Margaret Prewett. Us too! We can't wait for the first day!"
Margaret nodded, excited.
Daemyr began to converse casually, talking about the expectation of learning spells, magical creatures he wanted to meet, and also all kinds of classes like divination and transfiguration. The girls laughed, charmed by his friendly and natural manner.
"And which house do you think you'll be in?" Margaret asked, curious.
Daemyr shrugged, smiling.
"Oh, I really don't know... and, to be honest, I don't have a preference. What I really want is to meet cool people and have fun. I think any house will be great for that."
Penelope blinked, surprised.
"So you're going to be the first in your family to study at Hogwarts? That must be a bit scary!"
Daemyr laughed lightly.
"Yeah, a little... but it's also exciting. We don't have traditions to follow, so I can discover everything my own way. I'm more curious to meet people and learn new things than to worry about houses or rules."
Margaret smiled, impressed.
"You seem like you'll get along with everyone!"
Penelope looked at Vaenyra, who was still silent.
"And your sister? Is she just going to observe the whole time?"
For an instant, Vaenyra slowly raised her gaze. Her violet eyes met Penelope's with a cold, penetrating intensity, as if silently evaluating her. There was no explicit hostility, just a presence so firm that it made Penelope swallow hard and look away almost immediately.
Daemyr noticed the tension and spoke, trying to smooth things over:
"Vaenyra likes to observe first… But make no mistake, she's incredible. She just needs some time to feel comfortable."
Margaret's eyes widened.
"You two seem so different and yet so close… it must be fun!"
"It is," Daemyr said, smiling lightly. "And I think Hogwarts will be the perfect place for that. Houses and traditions are just a start. What really matters are the friendships and adventures we'll have."
The girls continued talking to him about which spells they wanted to learn first and how they imagined the first day of class. As Daemyr and Vaenyra began to walk away, Penelope leaned slightly towards Margaret and murmured in a low voice:
"She… she was a bit scary."
Margaret nodded, also in a whisper.
"Yeah. But you can't take your eyes off them."
Already a few steps ahead, Daemyr cast a sidelong glance at his sister.
"You could try to be a little more sociable, you know?" he said in a light, almost playful tone.
Vaenyra stopped for an instant. Slowly, she turned her face to him and gave him a look of pure cold, sharp, unequivocal disdain. She didn't say a single word.
Then, she turned and began to walk ahead, her steps firm and determined, as if the entire conversation had never deserved her attention.
Daemyr let out a short sigh, watching her walk away, before quickening his pace to catch up with her as they headed towards the wand shop.
With their robes bought and fitted, the Lhaerys siblings left Madame Malkin's shop. Outside, Aelarion, Maeric, Serena, and Lyra were waiting for them, having explored other parts of Diagon Alley. They had passed by Flourish and Blotts, where old, thick-bound books were piled high to the ceiling, visited Slug & Jiggers Apothecary, permeated by the smell of herbs and potions, and observed shop windows of cauldrons and magical creatures, from which muffled sounds and restless movements came.
"Ready for the last stop?" Lyra asked, a gentle smile on her face. "The wand shop?"
Daemyr and Vaenyra nodded, their anticipation renewed. The wand was the heart of magic, a wizard's most personal tool. They imagined the thrill of finding theirs.
But Maeric intervened, his voice firm and decisive. "No. We will not buy wands here. Not at Ollivanders."
Everyone looked at him, surprised. "But, Father," Daemyr began.
"Ollivanders' wands are good, yes," Maeric continued, ignoring the interruption. "But they are not the best. We will go to the best wandmaker in Europe. Someone who understands true power and lineage. Someone who will make a wand worthy of a Lhaerys."