Shopping in Diagon Alley – Part 1
Dred watched the children's arrival with a curious expression; their serious faces immediately caught his attention.
"Hmm… you look a little less gloomy than before," he commented with a faint smile, resting his elbow on the garden table and his chin on his hand.
Harry and Percy nodded at the same time, silent.
"Maybe we should go to Hogwarts after all," said Harry after a few seconds, his tone thoughtful and sincere. "We could help Mum with her work. It seems like she doesn't have enough wizards to assist her."
"Yeah, and her friends are all idiots," added Percy, frowning slightly.
Both of them had seen how much effort their mother put into her job, and how often she needed help with things beyond her reach. They felt that if they studied at Hogwarts, they could actually be useful to her. And for that, they needed to learn everything they could.
"That's right," murmured Dred with a calm smile. "It seems you've matured a little, at least."
"Besides…" said Harry suddenly, turning toward him with determination, "maybe we can find a way to help you get out."
The words took Dred by surprise; he widened his eyes slightly before letting out a quiet laugh. "Don't worry about me. Even the most powerful wizard in that place would hardly be able to do anything. Just enjoy your childhood and your time at Hogwarts as normal… wizarding children. Have fun."
His tone was serene, though deep down it sounded more like someone who didn't want to nurture a fleeting hope.
"No. We'll find a way," said Harry firmly, staring straight at him.
Dred sighed and finally relented. "All right… do as you wish," he said with a gentle smile.
…
"After coming here so many times, it kind of loses the excitement," remarked Percy, crossing his arms as he waited for the brick wall to open and reveal Diagon Alley.
Sally, standing beside him, gave him an amused look. She knew it would only take a few minutes before he was completely distracted by something new in one of the shops and start running around like always.
"We have a lot to buy, so we can't take too long, all right?" she warned them in a serious tone.
"Yes," they both replied at once, nodding like two perfectly well-behaved children. Anyone watching them at that moment would have thought they were quiet and obedient… at least until they started one of their usual arguments.
The entrance opened fully, and Sally stepped through confidently. The boys followed close behind, like two curious ducklings glancing around to see if there was anything new.
The Alley was crowded with families, most of them with children about their age. It was likely that some of them would soon be their classmates—or even their housemates.
Sirius still teased them endlessly, insisting they had to be in Gryffindor, just like their parents and himself, while never saying anything nice about the other houses.
According to him, Ravenclaws were arrogant know-it-alls, Slytherins were venomous and treacherous snakes, and Hufflepuffs… well, he didn't seem to have much to say about them—nothing bad, but nothing good either, as if he barely noticed they existed. Meanwhile, he never missed a chance to praise Gryffindor to the skies.
Harry and Percy doubted his version, of course. There wasn't anyone from the other houses around to confirm or deny his claims.
That was until Aunt Mor casually mentioned, with a faint smile, that she had been in Slytherin. Sirius immediately shut his mouth.
Mor, however, warned them that if Slytherin was still anything like it had been in the past, it would be better if they didn't end up there. According to her, it was full of spoiled, arrogant children who thought they were better than everyone else, and she was quite sure that both Harry and Percy would end up fighting with them all the time.
Their mother, on the other hand, had told them something much simpler and wiser: that it didn't matter which house they got, as long as they made good friends.
The three of them walked together as Sally asked, "So, what do you want to buy first? Maybe the books? The cauldrons? The clothes? Or…"
She turned her head toward them with a mischievous smile.
"The wands!" they both answered instantly, exactly as she had expected. Sally let out a soft laugh.
Even though they could already use magic thanks to Aunt Mor's training, the kind of magic they would learn at Hogwarts was very different. With Mor, they had learned to control the Mist and shape illusions; and if they wanted those illusions to become real, they had to perfect their control over it. Some spells required offerings—sometimes potions, sometimes even blood from specific creatures. It was a powerful kind of magic, but also natural and untamed.
Hogwarts magic, however, followed an entirely different system: words in an ancient language, precise wand movements, and a more structured method overall.
Both styles had their charm, but to them, Hogwarts magic seemed simpler—though also a bit weaker, since the Mist, at its peak, could alter reality itself.
Still, no child could resist the idea of waving a wand while chanting a spell.
Sally led them toward a shop she hadn't visited in a long time. In fact, the last time she'd been there was to buy a fake wand that helped her blend into the wizarding world. Now, she owned a proper wand—perfectly legal and fully functional.
She opened the door, and the soft chime of bells filled the air. Inside, everything looked just as it had the last time. Wooden shelves crammed with boxes, the faint scent of resin, parchment, and old dust—it was as though nothing had changed.
An elderly man with silver hair and round glasses peeked out from behind a row of shelves, balancing several boxes in his arms.
"Oh, it's been a long time! I'm glad the wand from last time worked out for you," he said with a kind smile, as if he remembered Sally perfectly.
"Ah… yes, thank you," she replied, a bit embarrassed, knowing she had only used that wand for a couple of weeks before obtaining her own.
Now, thanks to her own training and Mor's teachings, she could use magic legally in this world. Though unlike her children, she had to go through a kind of energy conversion before casting a spell, which made her incantations slightly slower than those of an ordinary witch.
"In fact…" said Sally, pulling out her wand—the one Mor had given her—and moving it gently.
"Wingardium Leviosa," she pronounced calmly.
A moment later, one of the boxes on Mr. Ollivander's counter lifted smoothly into the air, floating with elegant grace.
The old man's eyes widened in surprise.
"Well…" he murmured before clearing his throat and smiling discreetly. "I won't ask anything, but I must admit, that's… quite impressive."
He then turned toward the children.
"Well now, hello to you two as well. It's been a long time—you've grown quite a lot, haven't you? Two fine young gentlemen already."
His gaze shifted between Harry and Percy, a spark of warmth glinting in his eyes.
"I suppose you've come for your wands, haven't you?"
"Yes," they both replied at once.
"And who wants to go first?" asked Ollivander with a smile that suggested he enjoyed the old ritual.
"Me! Me!" exclaimed Percy immediately, raising his hand with enthusiasm.
Harry let his brother go first without complaint, instead taking the opportunity to study the shop in more detail.
Now that he looked closely, he noticed that the inside of the store was much larger than it appeared from the outside. Shelves stretched far into the back like a maze of wood and dust, packed with countless stacked boxes.
"So, young man… which hand do you usually use?" asked Ollivander as a floating measuring tape drifted toward Percy.
"Both?" answered the boy uncertainly.
"But which hand will you use your wand with?" chuckled the old man.
Percy looked down at his hands, thinking deeply.
"With my right, I handle the sword better, so maybe I could use the wand with my left… though I could also switch—wand in my right hand, sword in the left…" he murmured, trapped in a tactical dilemma.
Sally watched him with a mix of affection and quiet resignation; she knew this could take a while.
"How about Harry goes first?" she suggested softly. "While Percy makes up his mind."
Harry nodded and stepped forward while his brother remained deep in thought.
"Right hand," said Harry clearly, extending it.
The tape began to measure his arm, wrist, and height with quick, precise movements.
Ollivander nodded and stepped away, returning with a box in hand.
"Walnut, dragon heartstring core, eleven inches," he announced as he handed over the wand.
Harry held it carefully. The old man waited a few seconds, expectant.
"Go on, give it a wave," he finally said.
Harry did, and a bright white flash shot out of the tip. Ollivander ducked with the agility of someone used to such mishaps, as several boxes toppled to the floor in a small explosion of light.
Harry stood still, surprised; Percy, who had been thinking, looked up curiously; and Sally covered her mouth to suppress a laugh.
Harry gently placed the wand back on the counter.
"Hmm… that one doesn't seem right," said Ollivander calmly, as though the chaos in his shop didn't bother him in the least. Then he disappeared among the shelves and returned with another box.
"Holly, unicorn hair, eleven inches."
Harry took it. At the old man's expectant look, he waved it again. This time, a strong gust of wind swirled through the shop, scattering papers and knocking over several objects.
Harry instantly dropped the wand, and the wind stopped at once.
"Close… very close," muttered Ollivander, entirely unfazed by the growing mess around him.
He walked a few steps farther, studying one particular box. Opening it carefully, his expression softened slightly.
He approached and set it down before Harry.
"Holly, phoenix feather, eleven inches," he said solemnly.
The moment Harry touched it, a deep sensation ran through him. It was as if a warm current wrapped around his body, an invisible bond forming between him and the wand. The air around him seemed to glow faintly without a single word being spoken. Ollivander watched in silence, nodding slowly.
"Curious…" he murmured.
"What is?" asked Harry, still feeling that living connection between his hand and the wand's core.
"The phoenix feather I used for that wand was also used in another," explained the old man gravely. "They are twin wands. And the other… was the one that gave you that scar."
His eyes fell upon the boy's forehead.
"It is a wand loyal to its master, capable of great things. And the person who wields its twin… has already proven that, though not in a good way."
Before he could continue, Percy's voice rang from the back:
"I've decided!" he declared with a grin. "I'll just use both hands—I can switch between wand and sword whenever I want."
Ollivander paused mid-sentence, then smiled with an amused sigh.
He shook his head, as if accepting that some things were better left unexplained.
"You said you use a sword, didn't you?" he asked while the tape floated again, measuring both of Percy's arms. Then he walked toward a nearby shelf.
"Yes," Percy replied proudly.
"English oak, dragon heartstring core, ten inches, firm," said Ollivander as he handed him the wand.
Percy took it eagerly, and the moment he waved it, a bright flash burst forth—quicker, but more controlled than Harry's.
"Huh? Why did Harry take longer?" he asked curiously.
"A bit of showmanship, that's all," joked the old man with a grin. "Your wand is made for the brave and heroic. There's an old tale of a legendary duelist—one who fought with both sword and wand—who used the same kind. That's why I thought it would suit you."
Percy's expression twisted somewhere between doubt and modesty, unsure whether to feel flattered or pressured by the comparison.
Ollivander just chuckled softly and used his wand to restack a few of the fallen boxes.
And so, the two brothers left the shop with their new wands in hand, while Sally watched them with a mix of pride and relief, knowing that this day would remain forever etched in their memories.