Triplets (George Weasley)

Pt. 6

    "Why do we have to go already?" whines Ron.
    "Because there's only a week left before school starts, and you all need school supplies," Molly reminds the boy.
    "Where are we getting all this stuff?" I whisper to Fred.
    "Diagon Alley, of course," he scoffs in return.
    "How do we get there? I've never heard of it," I ask.
    "Floo Powder," George whispers.
    "Boys, show Audrey how it's done," Molly orders the twins.
    "Yes, Mum," they reply in unison.
    George rushes toward the fireplace, stepping inside. In his hands, he scoops up a pile of dark dust and throws it to the ground. Then, he shouts crisply, "Diagon Alley!". Green flames appear around him, and, in an instant, he has disappeared. Then, Fred follows in the same way.
    "Woah!" I exclaim, moving forward to try this exciting new form of travel. Molly holds out the powder to me as I step into the fireplace. I hold the thick powder in my hands, feeling the weight and texture for a moment, before throwing it to the ground, shouting, "Diagon Alley!".

   
    I find myself amidst a large crowd of odd people wearing cloaks.
"C'mon!" George shouts, hoisting me onto his shoulders so that I can look out upon the sea of people and shops. I squeal in delight at all the different stuff around me. Slowly, George begins to move, taking me with him as he maneuvers through the crowd.
"What do you think so far?" Fred shouts up to me.
"It's beautiful! I just wanna go explore!" I tell him excitedly.
"Well, then, explore we shall, my dear," George winks at me, taking off towards a stand selling pickled hippogriff tongue (a delicacy, according to Fred). I bounce wildly on George's shoulders as he runs as fast as he can while still carrying me. I feel giggles build up inside my chest and burst like bubbles. I tangle my fingers in his thick, fiery hair, trying to get a grip on something, anything. George holds onto my legs as he runs, trying to provide me with some support.
Finally, we reach the stand and are offered a sample of boiled fire crab, covered in a buttery sauce. I accept the offering, and find that it tastes a lot like crab legs in the Muggle world, but it has a kind of smoky, burnt taste to it.
Very quickly after that, though, Molly catches up to us and we must begin our school shopping.

    "C'mon then! Let's start with Gringotts. I'm sure Audrey has some money she needs to withdraw!" Molly informs us.
    "I don't have a bank account," I tell the woman sheepishly.
    "Of course you do, dear! Your mother was quite rich in our community, you know," Molly winks at me.
    "Really?" I ask.
    "Why, of course. She was only the lead editor of the Daily Prophet in her day," Molly tells me.
    "Isn't that the name of the newspaper Arthur always reads?" I ask.
    "Oh, yes. Lorelai Tyler was a great journalist. Turned the most well-known newspaper in the wizarding community into what it is today. Reformed distribution, made it more practical, and tried to crack down on biases and policies of ethics," she sighs. "Great woman. Arthur and I miss her terribly. The older boys, especially Bill and Charlie, remember her, too. We always knew she would be a great mother because of the way she treated them. She always brought them a toy or a candy when she came to visit. She loved children so much. Wanted one desperately. Then, when she found out she was pregnant... Oh, dear me. Always rambling. Come along, then," she sighs, beckoning for us to follow her after seeing my distraught face upon hearing about my mother. I'll have to ask her more about my mother sometime. How could I have gone my whole life without knowing these facts about my own parent?

    Goblins. Goblins run the bank.
    That's all I can think, even as I'm leaving Gringotts, bag of Galleons in hand. I did not like it there. I'd had to bury my head in Fred's shoulder the whole cart ride and could barely restrain myself from shrieking every time I saw a goblin. They were too creepy.
    I try my best to get it out of my head, though. There's so much to do.
    "Let's split up. Triplets, go do robes and get Audrey a wand and a pet if she wants one. I'm going to get everything but the textbooks for everyone. Then, we'll meet at Flourish and Blotts and take care of that. Sound okay to everyone?" she asks. Everyone nods.
    "Later, Mum," the twins say in unison, each grabbing one of my hands and pulling me to a store with a sign that reads "Madame Malkin's" in fancy cursive script.
    Inside, a nice woman greets us and pulls me to stand up on a wooden stool. I'm the only one who needs robes, because the twins are just reusing last year's. The twins laugh, joke, and keep me entertained while Madame Malkin collects my measurements.
    "You know, Rey, no one could ever measure up to you," George grins, thinking he's very funny with his measurement puns. I just raise one eyebrow, not wanting to encourage him.
    "Aw, c'mon, Rey. Crack a smile," Fred jokes.
    "Yeah, we know you think we're hilarious," George adds.
    "No, not compared to me," I grin.
    "Alright, you're all done, Miss. Let me run to the back and get your robes ready for ya real quick," Malkin smiles at me politely.
    "Of course. What's the fee going to be?" I ask.
    "Thirty Galleons," she nods to me as she heads into the backroom of her store.
    Carefully, I count out thirty gold coins.
    "Gee, you sure do have a lot of gold there, Miss Tyler," George notes.
    "Perhaps enough to buy us each an ice cream at the stand down the alley?" Fred asks, eyes hopeful.
    "Of course. After I get my pet, we can go get some ice cream," I agree.
    The boys grin and in that moment I feel like a mother. These are my boys, my closest friends. I don't even remember what it's like to be without them, and we've only known each other a few short weeks.
    Once the robes are brought back out to me, I pay for them and tuck them under my arm before following the boys back outside to Ollivander's Wands.
    Stepping inside, a chill runs through me. It's creepy in the shop - dark, with stacks upon stacks of boxes filling the place. I never thought the shopkeeper would emerge until he finally does. A small, shady-looking man with white hair.
    "Oh, hello, Audrey Tyler. Finally, you've arrived,"
    "Have we met?" I ask nervously.
    "Don't worry, Rey. He's like this with everyone," Fred tries to reassure me.
    "Let's start with this one," Ollivander shoves a small, rectangular box at me.
    Opening it, I find a wand. Unsure what to do with it, I just sort of stand there, wand in hand.
    "Well? Go on. Give it a flick," the old man instructs.
    I do so, and a shelf-full of wands falls over. I begin to rush over and pick the mess up, but the strange little man shoos me away.
    "No, no. Of course not. Not hag hair. What was I thinking?" the man mutters to himself.
    He puts the wand away and pulls out another.
    I give it a flick, and magnificent red and yellow sparks fly in the direction of the twins.
    "Perfect. I don't know why I didn't think of it before. 12 ¾. Beech wood. Phoenix feather core. Bendy," he notes. "You know, a young wizard like yourself being matched with beech wood shows wisdom beyond years. Beech wood matches itself with the open-minded, tolerant, clever, and intelligent. Your friend George, meanwhile, has a wand of Dogwood, signifying a quirky or entertaining personality, but it can be a very serious wand as well. Fred has a wand of Ebony, signifying a happy and courageous owner that is comfortable in his or her own skin. Phoenix feather will give you an ambitious wand, but not many are matched with this core. Interestingly enough, the phoenix from which your feather came gave two other feathers, both of which are in your friends' pockets right now," Ollivander rambles.
    Fred and George pull their wands out and run their hands over the wood.
    "So, you're saying we have triplet wands? Not just twin wands?" Fred asks.
    "That's exactly what I'm saying," Ollivander nods.
    The boys grin. "Wicked," they say in unison.
    "And, if you're interested, the unusually high level of bendiness in your wand suggests that you are very kind and open to many things and all people. Some of the very best wizards and witches had very supple wands like yours. In fact, the legend Harry Potter has a wand like that himself. I sold it to him only a few days ago," Ollivander tells us proudly.
    "You sold a wand to Harry Potter?!" the boys exclaim.
    "Of course, we don't know he'll become a great wizard yet, but one can only assume," Ollivander notes. "Anyhow, you'd best be off. Twenty galleons, please," Ollivander smiles.
    I pay him and we're off, me following the twins out of the dark, dusty store and back out into the bright sunlight.
Quickly, they navigate through the sea of people, and I have a hard time keeping up. I drown in the sea of colorful cloaks until one of the boys grabs my hand, pulling me toward the Magical Menagerie. We go to the Menagerie instead of Eeylop's Owl Emporium, because I warned the boys I'm not a fan of birds.
    Stepping inside, I hear the scuffling of rodents, mewing of kittens, and many other familiar and unfamiliar sounds amongst the cacophony. Walking up and down aisles and aisles of cages, I come across animals of all sorts: from snowy white kittens to fat gray rats, much like Ron's pet, Scabbers.
    "Which one?" George asks, following behind me closely.
    Fred, meanwhile, has run off to try and anger a large, jet-black cobra in a cage in the corner of the shop.
    "I dunno. What do you think?" I ask, sticking my fingers inside the cage of a large mouse but pulling them back when the mouse goes to bite them.
    George walks ahead of me.
    "This one," he says matter-of-factly, unlocking a cage a bit ahead of me. I can't see what's inside until George pulls it into his arms, cradling it.
    A tiny orange kitten, its fur almost the exact same shade as the boys' hair. It's a tabby, so it has little white streaks all across it.
    "But I don't like cats," I pout, sticking out my bottom lip. Although, even I have to admit this one's kinda cute.
    "Aw, c'mon. Just hold her," George insists, placing the kitten gently in my arms.
    As soon as he hands me the kitten, I melt.
    "Hey, baby girl," I coo as I rub behind the kitten's ginger ears.
    "Aww, she's so cute," George babies the kitten, rubbing her belly.
    The sleepy kitten yawns and stretches in my arms, waking up to look at the people surrounding her.
    "What should I name her?" I ask George, looking up into his big brown eyes.
    "Hmm," he mutters, observing the kitten's bright auburn fur and bright blue eyes.
    "Phoenix," he suggests, grinning at the name that suits her fiery fur.
    "Hi, Nicky," I coo to the kitten.
    The kitten nips my finger in response. It doesn't hurt, but I can tell her personality's gonna match her name and fur.
    "Let's get her," I grin up at George, who grins back at me happily.
    "Alright. Fifty galleons, I believe," he states.
    "Easy. C'mon, Nix. Time to take you home," I smile softly down at the little fireball of a kitten.
    No wonder George picked her out. She reminds me of the twins in her looks and her feistiness. I walk out carrying a caged kitten, a boxed wand, and a few sets of robes, heading down the alley towards the ice cream stand. After purchasing three ice creams (peppermint bark for me and peanut brittle for both boys), we head to Flourish and Blott's to finish the day. Molly has already picked up my other supplies, besides the textbooks. I pay her back, careful to count out the galleons precisely.
    Then, I begin wandering Flourish and Blott's, looking for the necessary textbooks, but perusing the other titles as well. They're funny kinds of books, none that you'd find in any ordinary bookshops. Titles like "Supernatural - The Story Behind Hogwart's Ghosts" and "Magically Mischievous - The Perfect Pranks for Beginners". After about an hour of aimless ambling about the bookstore, I have a heavy stack of textbooks in hand. I pay for them quickly and wait for the Weasley family to finish their shopping.
    When it's time to go, I hate it. I love being surrounded by people like me. It's odd and interesting, and I feel like a real witch when I'm there. Yet, all good things must come to an end. So, we head back to the Burrow after a wonderfully productive day.
    "Fred?" I ask when we get home.
    "Yeah?" he replies.
    "Who was that Harry Potter person Ollivander was rambling about back at the wand shop?" I ask, the question having bothered me for a good chunk of the day.
    "He's said to be one of the most powerful wizards ever born. He was the one who stopped You-Know-Who, and he was only a baby then. Everyone is convinced that he's going to be capable of anything once he's been taught. He starts at Hogwarts this year, as rumor has it, with you," Fred explains.
    "You-Know-Who? That's Voldemort, right?" I ask.
    "Shh! Don't say that! Yes!" Fred cries, eyes wide at the sound of his name.
    "I'm sorry, but he-he killed You-Know-Who? The wizard who killed my mom?" I ask.
    "Yes, Rey, that's the one," Fred tells me, eyes soft.
    "O-okay. G'night, Fred," I stutter, unsure I'll be able to sleep at all.