siren and serpent

chapter 3

"Cordelia Constance Cascade! If you are not down here within the next two minutes I will leave without you!" Father shouted as I scrambled around my room trying to get ready to leave. Diagon Alley! Its been months since I went with Father. As I rush out of the room, I quickly glance at the box sitting on my desk. The box I've been too scared to open since Professor Dumbledore gave us a visit a few days ago.

"Coming!" I said as I ran down the stairs almost face planting in the process. "Which cloak should I wear?" I asked holding up two long, heavy cloaks. One deep green and black, the other black with a purple interior.

"The green one, green looks better on you." He said gesturing towards the cloak in my left hand.

"Alright." I said as I laid the rejected one along the back of a chair. "How are we getting there? Floo again? Or is it by broom this time?" I asked.

"Broom this time. We're out of floo powder, so I'll get more while you're getting your wand." He responded, winking at me. It suddenly hit me that I'm going to be at one of the best wizarding schools in the world in less than a month. What house would I be in? What kind of spells would I learn? Maybe I could learn how to cast a patronus.

"What house do you think I'd be in?" I asked.

"Don't ask me, I'm biased. You should ask the sorting hat." He replied.

"Where and when can I do that?" I prodded. "Hold on, the sorting.... hat?"

"Yes darling, a hat. And you'll meet the sorting hat on September 1st at the welcoming feast. When the sorting ceremony takes place." He explained, with sarcasm. Like I was supposed to know.  "What are we waiting for?" He said suddenly. "You sly dog, you had me monologuing! Grab our brooms please dear." He said, pointing to the door to the garage where they so casually hung.

It's been a while since I've flown on my broom. Father's been teaching me how to fly since I could walk. He played Quidditch when he was at Hogwarts, a chaser. So obviously he taught me how to fly a broom. It's nice to feel the wind against my face again. Father says, that once I fly around Hogwarts, I'll never want to fly anywhere else. I've gotten so used to the endless housing and roads of Leeds, I can hardly imagine flying anywhere but here. But what saddens me is that recently they created a restriction on first years bringing brooms to school. I guess I'm going to have to wait until second year to try out for quidditch.

As we fly over the familiar buildings and parks, towards the Leaky Couldron, Father guides us through the clouds, and over the lakes we would always visit to go fishing. Funny. He always loved to take the scenic route.

We arrive at the Leaky Couldron, and as Father leads me through the bar, you can't help but notice all of the other young children getting ready for their new year at Hogwarts. Eventually, we make it to the infamous red brick wall, which he taps an intricate pattern into. As he places the last tap with his wand, the wall melts away to reveal the seemingly endless street of Diagon Alley. The smell of incense, candles, and sweets from the abundance of shops surrounding me fill my nose with reminiscence. Merlin, I missed this place.

"Where should we go first Father?" I asked.

"Hm.. I suggest going to Madam Malkin's, I feel like getting your robes squared away first would make things easier." He replied.

"Makes enough sense." I said as he led us over to the shop with an ornate sign hung over the door, while attracting a few glances as we walk by.

"Oh Oliver! How long it's been since I've seen you. And who might this be? Cordelia? How much you've grown!" Madam Malkin squealed as she rushed over to me and Father. "Such beautiful hair you have dear, you look... just like your mother. Oliver, you have such a beautiful family." She said, wiping a tear away from her cheek. Madam Malkin and my father have known each other since he was a young boy. My grandmother would always be off doing work for the Ministry, so she left him under her care whenever she wasn't around. No wonder he wanted to go here first.