garden of eden (malfoy)

01: diagon alley

As a child, I was often warned of my future. My mother enjoyed describing the wizarding world with such vibrant imagery as I drifted to sleep. She referred to all of the wonderful people she met, and became friends with, and then lost touch with. She left me pictures of her dormitory, and her rather large Siamese cat.

I thought back to her nostalgic tone, her fond reminiscence of her former life, as I stood in the center of a bustling alley with my heart pounding in my chest.

My mother died when I was eleven.

I glanced down at the list held tightly in my hands, wishing for some sort of cosmic guidance.

uniform - madam malkin's

My father's handwriting was sprawled across the list, with cues as to where I would find my materials.

I was alone in the alley, searching for myself and asking strangers for directions, because my father missed his flight to London.

My mother died when I was 11.

A kind woman pointed me in the direction of Madam Malkin's, and I ventured curiously inside the shop.

The coffered ceilings hung low, entrapping the musty aroma of anxiety.

"Hello dear, how can I help you?"

The interruption of my inner monologue came from behind a tall wooden counter. A fail looking, older woman strolled out from behind it.

"Yes ma'am, I'm looking to purchase my uniform for my first year," I replied, seeing her eyes widen at my response.

"Are you attending Ilvermony?" She held a dress tape loosely in her hands. Her back was bent with decades of work.

"No ma'am," I didn't feel like she needed anymore of an explanation.

I didn't want to fake an accent, for fear of sounding stupid, so instead I brazenly chose to speak with my natural dialect.

She collected the pieces that were listed as requirements, as well as a few extra pieces. When I questioned why she had brought me warmer outer layers, she insisted that I would find them necessary as the weather grew colder.

I agreed with her, pulling my sweater in tighter around my torso to protect from the chilly air inside the shop. The September skies were dreary in London, and I assumed they would only become more so as the year drug on.

I entered my vault information, and she handed me a great number of paper shopping bags, stuffed full of brand new uniforms. Thanking her, I was on my way.

Next on my list required materials was an extensive collection of books. Written on my list, in nearly illegible penmanship, was Florish & Blotts, north end, left side.

Florish and Blotts was a thin book store, wedged between other nondescript buildings. The ceiling was at least 20 feet tall, with massive piles of books spanning the entire height. New students littered the busy book store, skimming through titles and authors on spines.

As I made my way through the crowd, barely squeezing through the gaps between piles, I scanned my list, hoping to find one of the titles.

A large, imposing figure bumped into me, knocking over a teetering stack of books behind me.

"I'm so sorry! I was just trying to find my books. Sorry again sir," I said, hoping not to upset the rugged looking man in front of me.

"It's no problem at all," he said, swing around to face me and tipping another stack of books.

His hair was shoulder length, straight and thin, and tucked neatly behind his ears. As he turned, I noticed a long scar stretching from his ear nearly to his chin.

"Damnit Bill! Stop bumping into these poor kids," came a voice from the other side of a mountain of books.

Several books fell from the top, near the ceiling, and into my outstretched arms, as a lovely looking woman and several red headed children appeared behind the man.

"I'm so sorry dear. He should've been looking where he was going," the woman spoke. She was on the shorter side, with bouncy red hair, and a motherly disposition. She had a gentle smile. "Do you need help finding your books?"

I glanced up at the hundreds of books, unsure of myself. "Yes please, if you don't mind?"

The woman introduced herself as Mrs. Weasley, and led me over to a table labeled 'FIRST YEAR'. She loaded my books into my basket.

"You're going to be in school with my Ron!" She said, looking up from my list at me. Then, her face donned a look of concern.

"Dear, where are your parents?"

"Um. My dad is in couldn't make it, and my mom is no longer with us," I replied, trying not to make it awkward.

She looked at me sympathetically.

"I'll tell you what, how about you come along with us to collect the rest of your materials? We've only just started," she said. Her face was kind, and reassuring. Behind her, stood five rambunctious kids.