Bitter Rivals Sweet Love

When Opposite Rivers Meet

Hearing that, Azalea walked behind Madam Malkin and beckoned Harry to follow her. In the back of the shop, two boys were being fitted into their new uniforms. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a footstool, pulled a long robe over his head and started pinning it in the right places while another smiling witch took to assisting Azzy. "Hello", the boy with the pale,pointed face said,"Hogwarts,too?" "Yeah" Azalea replied. "My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street
looking at wands," said the boy. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then
I'm going to drag them off to took at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully Father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow." The twins were strongly reminded of Dudley. "Have you got your own brooms?" The boy went on. "No" Harry replied. "Play Quidditch at all?"
"No," Harry said again, wondering what on earth Quidditch could be.
"I do -- Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?" "No," said the Potters, feeling more stupid by the minute.
"Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know
I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been -- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" "Mmm," Azzy said wishing she could say something more interesting. All this while the brown eyed boy was still quite silent observing the scene unfolding before him. "I say, look at that man!" said the boy suddenly, nodding toward the
front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing
at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.
"That's Hagrid," said Harry, pleased to know something the boy didn't.
"He works at Hogwarts."
"Oh," said the boy, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't
he?"
"He's the gamekeeper, Draco" the other boy spoke up. Harry liked the boy less and less every second.
"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage -- lives in a hut on the
school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic,
and ends up setting fire to his bed."
"We think he's brilliant," said Azzy coldly.
"Do you?" said the boy, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where
are your parents?"
"They're dead," said Harry shortly. He didn't feel much like going into the matter with this boy.
"Oh, sorry," said the other,. not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?" "Draco for once, just shut up!" The boy, presumably Draco just ignored him and gazed at the Potters waiting for an answer.
"They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean."
"I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're
just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some
of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter,
imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families.
What's your surname, anyway?"
But before the Potters could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you two done, my dears," and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy,
hopped down from the footstool.
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawling boy. The brunette boy stayed quiet. Harry and Azzy were rather quiet as they ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought them
(chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts).
"What's up?" said Hagrid.
"Nothing," Harry lied. They stopped to buy parchments and quills. The twins
cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you
wrote. When they left the shop, he said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"
"Blimey, Potters, I keep forgetting' how little yeh know -- not knowin'
about Quidditch!"
"Don't make us feel worse," said Harry. He told Hagrid about the pale
boy in Madam Malkin's.
"--and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed
in."
"Yer not from a Muggle family. If he'd known who yeh were -- he's grown
up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizarding folk. You saw what
everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway,
what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones
with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles -- look at yer mum! Look
what she had fer a sister!"
"So what is Quidditch?"
"It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like -- like soccer in the Muggle
world -- everyone follows Quidditch -- played up in the air on
broomsticks and there's four balls -- sorta hard ter explain the rules." "And what are Slytherin and Hufflepuff?" Azzy piped up.
"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o'
duffers, but --"
"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff" said Harry gloomily.
"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin," said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a
single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one."
"Vol-, sorry - You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?"
"Years an' years ago," said Hagrid.
They bought their school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts
where 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 of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with
nothing in them at all. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have
been wild to get his hands on some of these. Hagrid almost had to drag
Harry away from Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue- Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.
"I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley." "I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid. "An'
anyway, yeh couldn't' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more
study before yeh get ter that level."
Hagrid wouldn't let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("It says
pewter on yer list"), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible
smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff
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. While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a
supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry and Azalea, they themselves
examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and
minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop).
Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked Harry's list again.
"Just yer wand left - A yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday
present."
They felt himself go red.
"You don't have to --"
"I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad,
toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at - an' I don'
like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want
owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."
Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been
dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now
carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with
her head under her wing while Azzy carried a tawny brown one. They couldn't stop stammering thanks,
sounding just like Professor Quirrell.
"Don' mention it," said Hagrid gruffly. "Don' expect you've had a lotta
presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivanders left now - only place fer
wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."
A magic wand... this was what they had been really looking forward to.The last 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 tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair
that Hagrid sat on to wait. Azzy felt strangely as though she had
entered a very strict library; and mind you she loved  libraries;she swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to her and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of
her neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle
with some secret magic.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have
jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly
off the spindly chair.
An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like
moons through the gloom of the shop.
"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.
"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon.
Potters." It wasn't a question. "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 Harry. Harry wished he would blink.
Those
silvery eyes were a bit creepy.
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches.
Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it -- it's really the wand that chooses the
wizard, of course."
Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to
nose. Harry could see himself and his sister reflected in those misty eyes.
"And that's where..."
Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a
long, white finger.
"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly.
"Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in
the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into
the world to do...."
He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid.
"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again.... Oak, sixteen
inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"
"It was, sir, yes," said Hagrid.
"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got
expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern.
"Er -- yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still
got the pieces, though," he added brightly.
"But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.
"Oh, no, sir," said Hagrid quickly. Harry noticed he gripped his pink
umbrella very tightly as he spoke.
"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now Mr. Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver
markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"
"Er -- well, I'm right-handed," said Harry.
"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to
finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round
his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of
a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix
tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands
are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite
the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with
another wizard's wand."
Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring
between his 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, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon
heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a
wave."
Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr.
Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try --"
Harry tried -- but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was
snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.
"No, no -here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy.
Go on, go on, try it out."
Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the
spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the
shelves, the happier he seemed to become.
"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here
somewhere -- I wonder, now - - yes, why not -- unusual combination --
holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."
Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised
the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air
and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework,
throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Hagrid whooped and
clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very
good. Ms. Potter if you will please step forward." Azalea stepped forward her heart thumping in her chest as the tape started measuring by itself while retreated in the back looking for wands. The tape fell to the ground as Ollivander returned to Azzy. "Ms. Potter I wonder if.... this wand has rejected every owner before today. The gem lit up today after almost a century." He handed her the wand; a sleek, ebony wand with a twisted, vine-like design running along its length with a phoenix feather core. At the tip, a gleaming, obsidian-like gemstone sat, radiating an eerie green glow. The handle of the wand was adorned with intricate patterns resembling the scales of a dragon. At once warmth rushed through Azzy's fingertips as the green gem lit up,ever more radiant.
He put the two wands back into their boxes and wrapped them in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..
"Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?"
Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It
so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave
two other feathers -- just two others. It is very curious indeed that you
should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave
you those scars."
Harry swallowed.
"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things
happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember.... I think we must
expect
great things from you, Mr. and Ms. Potter.... After all, He-
Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things -- terrible, yes, but great." Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. He paid fourteen  gold Galleons for their wands, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.
The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harry and Hagrid made
their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through
the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. The twins didn't speak at all as they walked
down the road; they didn't even notice how much people were gawking at
them on the Underground, laden as they were with all their funny-shaped
packages, with the owls asleep in their cage on their respective owners' lap. Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Harry only realized
where they were when Hagrid tapped him on the shoulder.
"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said.
He bought Harry and Azalea a hamburger each and they sat down on plastic seats to eat
them. Harry kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow.
"You all right, Harry? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid.
Harry wasn't sure he could explain. He and Azalea just had the best birthday of their  lives -- and yet -- he chewed his hamburger, trying to find the
words.
"Everyone thinks we're special," Azzy said at last. "All those people in the
Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander... but we don't know
anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm
famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what
happened when Vol-, sorry -- I mean, the night my parents died."
Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he
wore a very kind smile. "Don' you worry, Potters. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the
beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it's
hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a
great time at Hogwarts -- I did -- still do, 'smatter of fact. And you two have each other,don't you?"
Hagrid helped Harry on to the train that would take him back to the
Dursleys, then handed him an envelope.
"Yer tickets fer Hogwarts, " he said. "First o' September -- King's Cross
-- it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a
letter with yer owls, they'll know where to find me.... See yeh soon,
Potters."
The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until
he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against
the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone.

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Finally this chapter has been in my drafts but I didn't upload it because this wasn't getting any reads. But the numbers have gone up recently!  We're so so close to a 100 reads!!
-Author <3