Quidditch

Quidditch (A Harry Potter fanfiction) Chapter Two

Chapter two

That afternoon, I come downstairs and see my mom and brother already waiting for me. They each hold a pinch of floo powder. I sigh. I had known we were going by floo powder, but some little insane piece of me hoped we were going to fly. My brother gives me a look that says 'forget it'. I reluctantly take a pinch and throw it into the fire. Stepping into the emerald flames, I brace myself for the dizzying trip.

"Diagon Alley!"

I watch the fireplaces flash by for a moment before squeezing my eyes shut. Floo travel always makes me nauseas. When I step out of the fireplace at the leaky cauldron I sit, struggling to clear my head. I look around. The pub is filled with kids getting their school stuff. One girl looks like she's also a first year.

She has chocolate brown hair with curls that make her look like she just got her hair done at a salon. Her skin is creamy, no pimples or blemishes in sight. A pale blue headband with a flower on it pulls her hair out of her eyes, enhancing her violet eyes and delicate features. Despite her princessy look, a fashionably cut t-shirt that matches her headband shows off a white tank top, which is pulled down over dark skinny jeans. She seems nice, I think to myself as I watch her chat with a young girl who looks like she's her sister.

Five seconds later Evan gracefully steps out of the hearth. My mother is right behind him. Evan jokes about my appearance, picking ash out of my long hair. I wear it down, and, having given up on curling it, my bright red locks hang straight. I am not a typical redhead. My hair used to be a dirty blonde, but I recently dyed it scarlet.

As always, the sight of Diagon Alley takes my breath away. It's very busy today, with lots of students crowding certain shops. I stare at Ollivanders, my main center of attention for this trip, and wonder what wand will choose me.

"Where shall we go first?" Mom asks, looking at me instead of Evan, as she used to.

I give her an 'are you kidding me look'. "Ollivanders, Duh." Evan miggles and I pull him and mom towards the ancient store.

Ollivanders is much different than I imagined it to be. For one thing, it's a lot dustier than I anticipated. There are huge bookshelves everywhere, filled with long thin boxes that I assume have wands in them. A spindly little chair sits near the door, which my mom collapses in. An old man comes around a shelf holding about ten wand boxes. He dumps them on a table that sits in front of me. Ollivander, I think.

"Ah," He says, eyeing my brother, "I remember you. 9 inches, Willow, Dragon heartstring." He says it as a statement instead of a question. Then his eyes turn to me. "A new first year now, eh? Don't worry; I'm sure we'll have a wand for you." Without allowing me to respond, Ollivander hands me one of the wands from the boxes he was carrying. "Try this."

I wave it, pointing it at some papers on the table. They scatter everywhere.

"No no, not this one." Ollivander says calmly. "Perhaps this one will do." He hands me another wand, short and wide, very pale wood. This time I try a simple spell I've seen my mother do.

"Wingardium Leviosa!" I say, pointing at and inkwell that lay near the scattered papers. The inkwell explodes, spattering us with ink. Evan miggles again. "Shut up." I snap. The wand is plucked from my fingers and I am handed another one.

After almost an hour, and many more broken or screwed up things, I get irritated. I start looking at the boxes, reading the labels. All the boxes are muted colors, but one stands out. One box is emerald green, a much brighter color than any other of the dreary boxes. Its silver inscription reads, 11 inches, elm, unicorn hair. I walk over to the shelf with the box on it. Ollivander makes a noise of protest, but Evan quickly smothers it and leans forward in anticipation of what I was doing. I pick up the box.

"What about this one?" I ask, opening the box and taking out the wand. It is made of a pale wood, with the bark carved off entirely except for the handle. The bark of the handle has animals carved into it, a bear, a peacock. I feel a strange attraction to these animals, staring especially at the detailed owl near the bottom. Instantly a strange warmth spreads through me. It makes me feel powerful, like I can do anything. I smile, and Evan applauds. Ollivander studies my expression, then slowly joins Evan. My mother is grinning, a twinkle in her eye.

"Amazing!" I hear Ollivander whisper. Then, louder, he says "It's not every day you find a witch with such intuition that she can find the wand that chooses her out of thousands." This takes a moment to process. My eyes widen. I look at the wand in my hand. I just chose my own wand.

"I thought the wand chooses the wizard, sir."

"It does. You just happened to find the perfect one."

I leave the shop with my new wand, thinking deeply. I hardly pay attention the shops where we buy our supplies, having been in them many times before. When it is finally time to buy my pet, I snap out of my haze and into reality, which at this moment is far more unrealistic than my imagination had been. All around there's every animal you can imagine, and some you probably couldn't.

I'm having trouble sticking to the 'only one pet' rule when I come across some adorable little puffballs in all different colors. Suddenly I hear a tiny 'meow' and I look down. The tiniest kitten I've ever seen is there, attached to the shoelace of my American converse. She is pure white, with ice blue eyes. I scoop her up and take her to mom.

"I've made my choice."