Crossroads of Two Worlds

10- Diagon Alley

(Above is Rose Weasley at current age-11 years old)

As we walked down the alley, Mcgonagall pointed at a large, badly constructed building further into the alley and named it as Gringotts. It had several lopsided posts straining to hold up the equally crooked roof. A few scorch marks stretched from the roof down to the walls, like the legs of a giant spider.

Mcgonagall guided me away and deeper into the alley. Not many stores stood out as much as the joke shop that had first caught my eye, but they were all very interesting. "First things first, you need a wand, even if you can do wandless magic. You shouldn't tell too many people that you can do that, it is dangerous to be powerful these days, especially at such a young age."

She led me into a dark, dingy store without explaining. The store seemed to be older than any other here, with the exception of Gringotts. It was called Ollivander's. Painted on the outside of the shop, under the name, was the caption, 'makers of fine wands since', but the date following 'since' was far too worn away for me to read.

Entering the shop, I found it dark but clean, it had a little bit of a musty smell, as if the owner had rarely cleaned but had recently started keeping it neat, down to the last box. There were thousands of wand boxes, each a different length, width, and color. They were all crammed onto shelves that clearly lacked the amount of space the store needed. 

Mcgonagall stepped up to the wooden desk in the corner of the room and rang the bell that sat there, "Mr. Thomas?"

A deep voice from, indeed, a different room called out, "One moment, I will be right with you Professor."

Obviously the man had recognized Mcgonagall's voice. The stern, commanding tone would not be easy to forget.

Soon, a dark skinned man in his mid-to-late thirties came up to the desk, then went around to embrace Mcgonagall, who, shockingly, hugged him back wholeheartedly. She didn't seem like the type of person that liked hugs. But if I had to guess, I'd have to think that they fought together in the war, him having a long jagged scar on his forearm.

Mr. Thomas let her go and said, "How lovely to see you, Professor! May I inquire as to the occasion?"

She stepped out of the way so Mr. Thomas could see me, "How many times do I have to tell you that you can call me Minerva? Anyways, Alana would like a wand, if you don't mind."

He smiled, this time at me. His dark eyes shining even in the low lighting of the store, he seemed kind, "Not at all, Alana, right or left handed?"

"Left, Mr. Thomas."

He nodded and picked up a tape measure and held it to my left arm, but paused, "May I?"

I extended my arm, curious as to why he needed to measure my arm. It probably had something to do with wand/arm proportions.

He finished measuring my arm and told me that he would be 'back in a pinch'. And indeed he was, with three wand boxes. He opened a wider, black box and pulled out a dark wand with a simple two circles around the base, for a hand hold I suppose. He handed it to me but as soon as I touched it, a nearby vase of roses exploded.

He practically snatched the wand from my hand, "Heavens no! You are far too powerful for that wand."

I smiled, I was quite proud to be 'too powerful' for a certain wand. Then he took out another wand, "Hazel wood, 10 inches, dragon heartstring."

I took it and nothing exploded but several wand boxes (around 20) flew chaotically off the shelves and around the room.

"Oh my- I'm so sorry!" I apologized enthusiastically but Mr. Thomas just tsked and took that wand as well.