A Changed Lestrange (1-2) (under editing)

2: From Dronfield to Diagon Alley

Ashton found it unbelievably difficult to sleep the following seven nights. Though, in fairness to him, he had just been given a revelation that was going to change his life forever — he was a wizard. A wizard.

Though he wasn't all that surprised at what Dumbledore told him — he always knew that he was different, he always knew he was special — being told you were magical was always a revelation you weren't expecting.

To Ashton, the next one week slumped by so slowly that it felt like one month. And what certainly didn't help was Mr Williams's behaviour towards him.

Dumbledore was apparently obliged to let Ashton's 'carer' — which Ashton thought had to be a very loose term for it to apply to Mr Williams — know about his magical status, and while Mr Williams was obliged to conceal that information from anyone else, he didn't pass up the opportunity to use it as a stick to beat Ashton with whenever he could.

"Oi, Lestrange! I told you to do the dishes, did I not? Or are you going to get your magic lamp out and wish for me to disappear?"

Thankfully, the tediously unfunny jokes came to an end after one week, as the twenty-sixth of July came around, and, as promised, Professor Dumbledore was ready and waiting on the doorstep of the orphanage located on number twenty-three Snape Hill Lane.

"Oi, Lestrange!" called Mr Williams from downstairs. "That good man Dunderbore's at the door!"

Ashton, who had been slumped in his bed for hours prior, jumped out at the near mention of Dumbledore's name.

"He's here?"

"Yeah, so hurry up!" bellowed Mr Williams as Ashton quickly grabbed some jeans and a t-shirt and threw them over himself as quickly as he could, and rushed downstairs and towards the door, which was painted white initially but was now dressed in the awfully unflattering shade of dust.

Ashton twisted the door knob open, and, sure enough, waiting outside was Dumbledore, wearing the exact same suit he had worn one week prior, when he told Ashton he was a wizard. He had his wand sticking out of one of his pockets, and quickly tucked it back in when the door swung open.

"Good morning, Ashton," he said warmly, extending a hand once more. "How do you do?"

"I'm good, thanks, Professor Dumbledore, er, sir," said Ashton hastily.

"You seem rather... on edge, Ashton." said Dumbledore, peering down at the boy with concern.

"No, I just... rushed down the stairs just now."

"Ah, eager, are you?"

Ashton couldn't help but nod. "Yes, very."

"Well, I suppose we should get started as soon as possible, shouldn't we? Follow me."

The streets in the town of Dronfield were never very chattery — often, rather, it was quiet and windy, and any sounds could echo down the street. It was a sunny day, and Ashton was questioning how Dumbledore could possibly walk in the state of the suit he was dressed in.

"Professor Dumbledore?" asked Ashton abruptly, as Dumbledore was preparing to cross the street.

"Yes, Ashton?"

"Er... you said I had to get all my stuff from — Diagon Alley, was it? Yeah, Diagon Alley. You said I had to get my stuff from there. But... how do we get there?"

Dumbledore stopped walking and turned to Ashton, who had just almost tripped on an uneven piece of concrete.

"Diagon Alley is in London," said Dumbledore. "And we are in Sheffield now, are we not?"