My first morning at the Leaky Cauldron began before the rest of London had awakened.
Tom didn't knock on my door. He didn't need to. He stood at the bottom of the stairs and called up as if the building itself was an extension of his lungs.
"Boy, new morn is here, time to work"
I was already awake dressing myself "good to know Tom and the orphanage work on the same schedule".
I thought calmly, feeling much more at ease than before, ever since the letter came I had been in a fight or flight state of constant panic.
Errant thoughts of " how Tom didn't wake up other guests of his with that noise, if he even had anyone besides me" flew in my mind
I just shrugged it off with "magic" for a lack of better explanation.
I dressed quickly, slipped my wand into its forearm holster beneath my sleeve. I even debated with myself before sleeping, should I or should I not,sleep with it, but decided not to. My paranoia isn't there yet. I stepped out of my room and went down.
The Leaky Cauldron was different in the morning. Cleaner. Quieter. Less like a crossroads and more like a tavern on a quiet roadside. The tables still held the ghosts of last night—rings of spilled drink, crumbs, ash—but the room hadn't yet filled with voices.
Tom gave a rag to me in one hand and offered a broom with his other, this one clearly not made for flying but sweeping the floors.
"Sweep first. Then wipe. Don't break anything. Don't talk to anyone unless they talk to you."
I nodded once.
He watched me for a second, as if checking whether I would ask questions.
I didn't.
He grunted and went back to the bar. "Probably to look official or something" I thought amused since he didn't really look like he did anything there.
It wasn't hard work. It was controlled work. The kind that rewarded rhythm. Sweep in straight lines. Wipe in circles. Carry trays close to the body. Walk like you belong and nobody would bat an eye.Not that there were more than just a couple of sleepy people to bat their eyes but neither of them did,so I guess I did it right.
I swept floors worn smooth by decades of boots. I wiped tables scarred by old spills and newer arguments. I carried crates that smelled faintly of apples, firewhisky, and something sharper I never bothered to identify.
Tom watched me carefully at first, perhaps to see if I complained or managed the work as I promised.
I worked steadily. I didn't rush, didn't linger, didn't ask questions that weren't necessary. When told to do something differently, I did it once and remembered it. When I finished early, I found something else that needed doing rather than standing around waiting to be noticed.
By the end of my first hour he went back to his own work and let me continue cleaning
That, I suspected, meant I'd passed whatever test there had been.
At noon he brought me a bowl of stew and some bread and orange juice. "You're done for the day lad here's your lunch,tomorrow if you wake up early you can have breakfast too" he said smilingly with a bit of gruff.
Just like that,he acknowledged my efforts working all morning without a complaint or breakfast. He is indeed a sharp one to test me like that
I thanked him with a polite smile back and asked to put it on a table as I ran back to my room to get a book to read and study, in order not to waste a moment of my time. I also brought my empty notebook with me and a fountain pen.
Mornings to noon were work. Afternoons to evening were mine.
Tom mentioned that if he needs my help outside the agreed upon time he will pay me fair wages. I agreed instantly, eager to get more funds for my growing need to know more.
While eating I studied the first of the three books I got from Scribner's Exchange. It was named Foundational Magic Theory so I figured it would be a good place to start.
———————————————————————
Foundational Magical Theory[Author Unknown]
Warning!
This book was written in an age before proper curriculum was established,
At the time mastery was a necessity and errors were often fatal. Do not try without Ministry supervision or authorization
Banned by ICW in 1690 due to its risky and almost ineffective approach and outlook to magic.
Purpose of the Work[This Note was added later on]
This volume predates the modern Hogwarts-style approach to magic instruction.
It concerns itself not with rote spell production, but with why magic behaves as it does, and how a practitioner may align themselves to produce consistent, repeatable, and survivable outcomes.
Where later texts ask how to cast, this work asks:
What is being shaped?
Where does causality begin?
Why does intent sometimes fail?
[The author assumes the reader already possesses some magical schooling, and writes not to teach about spells or spectacles but control.]
Core Principles1. Intent Is Necessary but InsufficientIntent alone is volatile.
It defines direction, it does not contain the effect unless it's part of the intent in the first place.
Unstructured intent invites resonance with emotion, memory, and impulse.
Magic responds not only to conscious desire, but to the total mental posture of the caster at the moment of shaping.
Thus, practitioners today as before are required to cultivate internal discipline before attempting reliable effects.
(Is this meditation? Or something like Occlumency? Perhaps an earlier form of it?)
——————————————————————
First thing that caught my eye was the big screaming read notification that this particular book was banned by ICW in 1690..
"Dammit the old man gave me contraband, probably should adopt him for treating me this good! He probably couldn't sell this even if he wanted to. This is exactly what I needed. He's getting paid later for this, that's for sure." I thought excitedly as I shoveled the rest of the stew as I read the first chapter.
The book was filled with notes of all sorts. From official sounding notes from a Ministry personnel to previous readers adding their comments about the contents.
"Occlumency? What is that? I need to write the term down in my notebook and search for it later" I thought as the term was written down at the bottom of the page, like a student conversing with himself in a written form.
It was strange but perhaps that's normal in a wizarding world. I wrote the term down in my notebook and noted my list of today was as follows:
Get the rest of my school supplies if possible.
Visit the orphanage and explain that I will be having other accommodation as of today.
Visit the bookstore in Diagon Alley to see what's available and what I need to buy later when capable. Perhaps Hogwarts has a library? better hold off from buying too many extra books, even if I do get funds.
Occlumency?? Research
I underlined the research to emphasize the importance and haste, then closed the notebook. I decided that visiting the orphanage first would be for the best, and ate quickly the rest of my lunch, returned the book and my notebook to my room then went downstairs and told Tom about my intention to return to the orphanage.
Well the actual name of it was St.Helens Orphanage for boys but most of us just called it institution or orphanage.
Tom nodded approvingly and said "it would probably be for the best, if there wouldn't be those muggle pliis men looking for you whenever you go out into the muggle world"
I gave a small smile and nodded" indeed, it would be a hassle to explain myself later,so better not let it happen" I waved and headed out back towards the orphanage.
I felt it would be rude to correct Tom straight out but perhaps next time if the topic comes up I should mention that it's Police not pliis men.
The route back there now,felt shorter than it did to come here yesterday. It took no time at all and soon I was standing in the matron's office once more.
Matron listened without interruption as I explained my situation, as well as my intention to live at the "boarding house" to study for my school books and to prepare properly.
In order to keep my scholarship from Hogwards. Apparently that's how the Ministry explains the situation like mine to the muggles, as a scholarship to a prestigious boarding school in Scotland.
She kept nodding and smiling gently as I explained to her that I would have room and board for the next month. Also a minor job to help out in the morning at the kitchen to get some income to help me buy some extra books to supplement my studies.She made a note in her ledger.
"You won't be returning at the end of the month then?" she said calmly more than asked m
"No, I will go straight to School" I replied.
She hesitated, pen hovering. "And after the school year?"
I paused—not because I didn't know, but because the answer deserved some thought.
"I'll make other arrangements, I believe it's good and proper for me to take the opportunity to try myself in the world" I said.
That seemed to satisfy her, and age nodded in acceptance.
Papers were signed. My locker was emptied. What little I owned fit easily into a small suitcase. The orphanage gave out one to all of us when we inevitably left, probably some old military surplus from the looks of it, if I were to take a guess.
I was allowed to take with me a single book, as a parting gift and I picked " Notable herbs and plants of British isle and Scotland" for two simple reasons. It seemed useful and it has a dust jacket covering it that just happens to be the exact same size as the banned book I have in my trunk. Purely coincidentally of course.
I glanced at "Study in Scarlet" by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle but decided that knowledge is more important than my favorite book, that and the dust jacket.
At the door, she said, "You did well here, Alexander."
I nodded. It seemed expected.
"There's emancipation paperwork in there Alexander." She said solemnly "I believe you are fully capable, more so than some adults I know. Paperwork is there to help you stay safe and independent, it is not a sign of abandonment. Your always welcome here if you plans ever fell through"
I nodded back at her equally somber, although inside I felt confused by her kindness. Not something she ever showed me before.
The mature part of me that brought with it vague memories and feelings, gave me perspective that suggests that she cares for all of us kids, but this is a hard world and it is much better to be prepared and knowledgeable than pampered and happy. Their raising survivors not liabilities to the state
"It is better to be a warrior in a garden than a gardener in a war," I heard in my mind, like a quote often thought or said. I found myself agreeing with the sentiment wholeheartedly.
For the first time in as long as I could remember, I gave her a true smile " thank you miss Mary. I hope to never see you again,unless perhaps to come and pay you back some of the care you have given to me along the years in the form of donations"
I said calling her by her name meaning I was no longer one of her charges but an equal. Hoping she understood that me returning here would mean my plans didn't come true and it was a personal setback not that I hated the place.
From the approving smile on her face she understood perfectly what I meant " farewell then Alexander Hawthorn, may your future be bright and your past stay with you wherever you may go, as it should " she said with a formal voice and tone and it reminded me of those old noble customs she uses to teach everyone at times when we misbehaved particularly badly.
I straightened my shoulders and gave her a formal bow meant for a noble lady of the house, I kissed her offered hand as a show of respect. The I turned in my heel and simply left
Without fanfare or goodbyes, I had no close friends here, and no real attachment whatsoever. Even less now that the vague feeling of maturity came with the even vaguer memories.
The revelation that Mary,Susan and other caretakers probably did care for us kids, didn't much change my feeling about the orphanage itself but it did crush that tiny resentment in me. That part that felt they were just cold and uncaring, that this was just a job for them and we were not cared about just a burden to get rid of.
I walked back to Leaky Cauldron with a steady gate, not rushing but not dragging my feet either.
When I got back Tom asked if I would help a bit since there was a sudden rush of people. I accepted easily and rushed my things to my room and went to work.
A few hours of rushing around, cleaning spills and bringing food and drinks. Soon it was already time for supper and I ate another helping of the stew while reading the next chapter of the book. I had the sense to cover it with the dust jacket from the herb book before bringing it down.
—————————————————————
2. Structure Precedes ExpressionStructure was achieved through:
gesture-assisted casting
breath regulation
visualization and mental framing
symbolic representation within the mind
A spell must exist as a form, before it may exist as an effect. Meaning casters should know it wholly before attempting to cast it. If part of the effect or form is not cast fully it leaves room to interpretation and magic is terrible at interpreting anything at all. As such most often consequences are dire or hilarious and nothing in between.
Without form, the practitioner risks becoming a conduit of mana — no longer in command, and no longer properly considered wizard or witch.
Conduit is, in a very simplified way,a living personification of mana, or aspects of it. Someone so deeply embedded in mana, they tend to lose their individuality at the very least. Their sanity and ability to self control, they more often become little more than spell slinging beasts at best. Of course if they do maintain their sanity and individuality it's usually even worse.
All the worse impulses and thoughts seemed to be amplified and strengthened. Massive amounts of mana coursing through them,eroding their self control and sense of propriety until nothing is left but pure logic, power and unquenchable thirst to get more power and control.
[look for Creature Compendium of Ancient Creatures and Forgotten Gods vol.3 chapter 6 Liches, hags and other mana conduits by Archmage Lancel]
( seems terrifying!!Surely the author is joking? There's no such beings in this world? He mentions even gods and these Liches, in the same sentence. What is a Lich?.)
(This seems to be a conceptual ancestor to modern spell theory — but without standardized spells and wand movements to do the work for the caster.)
——————————————————————
Spoon frozen in mid air,mouth open. I must have looked ridiculous but the chapter in question was an absolute mess. I stared at the page without really seeing it, a few more seconds. Then I put a spoonful of stew in my mouth and tried to get my mind working properly.
This particular chapter gave me more questions than answers.It wasn't vague per say but it was assuming that the reader knew about things mentioned in it.
I definitely didn't.
Like the book mentioned in it but also what is a Lich and why is it mentioned next to gods?
My estimation about the dangers of the universe I was in shot up exponentially.As such my anxiety came back with vengeance.I hastily read the chapter again hoping to find something more even though I knew there wouldn't be anything.
Although the informative part was illuminating, it talked about how spells need structure in order to not cripple the mage trying something too big since magic once cast would try to do his bidding whether he had the ability or not. It hinted that without form or structure the world's mana might override and overwhelm the caster and make him something inhuman.
"Mental health and strength is vital for wizards, absolutely everything depends on their mind therefore I need to strengthen mine" I thought as I tried to interpret the text and unfamiliar concepts, to make sense of it to myself.
"Symbolic representation in the mind? like something put in the brain attic? Like a technique Sherlock Holmes uses?" I pondered a bit excited
A Study in Scarlet was one of the few books no one else cared for, which meant it became mine by default. I read it a dozen times—enough that I'd memorized Holmes's "brain-attic" speech word for word. It went like this:
"I consider that a man's brain originally is like a little empty attic, and you have to stock it with such furniture as you choose. A fool takes in all the lumber of every sort that he comes across, so that the knowledge which might be useful to him gets crowded out, or at best is jumbled up with a lot of other things so that he has a difficulty in laying his hands upon it. Now the skilful workman is very careful indeed as to what he takes into his brain-attic.
He will have nothing but the tools which may help him in doing his work, but of these he has a large assortment, and all in the most perfect order. It is a mistake to think that that little room has elastic walls and can distend to any extent. Depending upon it there comes a time when for every addition of knowledge you forget something that you knew before. It is of the highest importance, therefore, not to have useless facts elbowing out the useful ones
"
That was how Sherlock Holmes put it in A Study in Scarlet and it resonated with me greatly, perhaps I should give another more serious try on forming something like it, like I tried
a few years back when I first read the book, although I didn't get very far.
Suddenly I felt something cold against my lips and snapped back to reality, realizing the last of the stew had gone cold — the spoonful still hovering there, gods know how long.
"Hey boy! Alexander! Even if it boosts my reputation as philanthropist to hire a slow minded person such as you have seem like, I would prefer you to actually be more like the sharp and polite young man you usually are" said Tom's voice teasingly right next to me and startled me again this time fully out of my musings
I glanced up at him and smiled awkwardly "sorry Tom it's been a very long day and got lost in my thoughts" I apologized genuinely.
Even though, stews all cold now, and not as appetizing anymore. I ate the last of my stew before I got up as Tom took away the bowl and utensils with a smile and a head shake, and left a few coins at the table."Here's your wages, boy, from the help as agreed upon, " he said, and I noticed a few copper knuts and a single silver sickle. I picked them happily and took the book into my room as I decided to wander around and observe Diagon Alley.
Looking for bargains to get my school supplies cheaper so I can get my hands on more books out of the curriculum.
Diagon Alley revealed itself to me as I put my wand back in its holster after I tapped the bricks behind the Leaky Cauldron. Now that I was taking my time walking around. Actually looking and not just rushing through in a panic, from on goal to another. I found myself feeling more and more curious and excited. There seemed to be endless possibilities and things to see, hear and smell around me all new and exciting.
Shopkeepers rushing to sell their products or haggling with the prices. Crowds ebbed and surged according to invisible rules and regulations. Children moved differently than adults; apprentices differently than masters. Some people carried themselves like they owned the space. Others moved as though hoping not to be noticed.
I watched it all as I walked towards the big book store in the middle of the main street, face carefully hiding the amazement and eagerness to learn magic.
Flourish and Blotts said the sign over the doors and it seemed like the busiest of all the shops I had seen,even now and it was nearing the early evening.
Parents argued quietly over booklists. Children drifted toward the brighter covers, touching things they hadn't been told not to touch yet. Clerks moved with practiced patience, redirecting traffic, answering the same questions again and again.
No one seemed to mind,if someone were to read for a few minutes since I could see few already doing so.
Especially if said someone, didn't take up much space,or make a spectacle of themselves as they did so.
I quickly figured out where to stand so I wasn't in the way, but more importantly I was visible and not hiding the fact I was reading. In case they thought I was a thief.
Hogwarts: A History.
The book was heavier than it looked. And since it looked heavy already I put the spine against the bookshelf as I opened it to read. I didn't open it from the first page, my intention was just to glance through it, determine what kind of book it was. I wished to know anything and everything about Hogwarts, so I would be better prepared in months time when the school started.
I casually flipped through it and ended up on a chapter about the four Founders.
I immediately stopped my leafing and started to read.
I read about Godric Gryffindor first. He was the founder of Gryffindor house. House he took students who embodied his own qualities. Qualities like:courage, valor, strength and determination about ideals that sounded very good and just when written down. Godric took all the boys and girls whose bravery and strength held their backs straight even against all odds. Those whose determination could see them through any obstacle.
Next was a woman of great kindness,Helga Hufflepuff. Founder of Hufflepuff house. Fairness, loyalty, patience and hard-work were qualities she looked for in her students. Helga valued these qualities above all else and so she taught anyone who embodies them to learn as one of her very own children, part of her family. She didn't care who you were or where you came from. As long as you're loyal and hardworking you would have a place in Hufflepuff.
Rowena Ravenclaw followed. Founder of Ravenclaw house. "Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure" was said to be her motto. She valued strength of mind and knowledge most of all. Rowena was brilliant beyond words and she wished her house to reflect that. So she took in all those hungry for knowledge and with a love of learning. Perhaps she wished her house to be a sanctuary of learning,a place of study and academic excellence as well as a home so they wouldn't be alone in their brilliance, so they'll have peers to bond with. Unlike like she had been. Standing at the peak is said to be silent and lonely after all.
Lastly, I read of Salazar Slytherin.
The text was…polite.
Measured.
It spoke about the founder of Slythering house. House of ambition, resourcefulness, lineage—phrases sanded smooth by centuries of repetition. Salazar was said to only wish to teach those children wholly of magic. Clever and ambitious sort were the ones he wanted to teach,since he was clever and ambitious himself.
He didn't want to educate the impure and ignorant muggleborns or mudborns as it was said in his time, so they wouldn't be able to use what he taught against him and his kind.
The book did not say prejudice outright but if the foundation was rotten what would centuries of such beliefs form? Especially from such a starting point.
I closed it slowly and leaned my shoulder against the shelf, letting the noise of the shop wash over me while I thought.
Muggleborn.
Orphan.
No name worth protecting.
No family to speak for me.
Even if I learned quickly. Even if I performed well. Even if I kept my head down.
That alone would be enough.
Ravenclaw would require brilliance so undeniable it could not be ignored.
Gryffindor would require recklessness I could not afford.
Hufflepuff… would ask me to trust a system that had never once rewarded me for doing so.
I opened the book again.
Slytherin did not promise safety. Books made it clear there were four houses. Did I get to choose? Do they determine my house somehow magically?
"I might be joining a Ravenclaw if I squint very hard, but if I'm honest Slythering house seems more like my destination. So like usually it will do me good to prepare for the worst possible outcome." I pondered to myself
I returned the book to the shelf when a clerk passed nearby, then stepped away as though I'd only been browsing. No one stopped me. No one asked questions.
I would come back.
For now, it was enough to know this much, it gave me some food for thought.
By the time I stepped back into the street, the Alley felt different—not friendlier, not hostile, just… diminished and calmer perhaps that was just me.
I slowly returned to the Leaky Cauldron, Tom glanced at me once and nodded toward a stack of mugs on his tray.
"Busy tomorrow," he said. "School rush is starting slowly now, of course worst will be the last week before school so it's good practice from tomorrow onwards"
"I'll be ready," I replied.
And I meant it.
Tom nodded genially"by the way Alexander, erm may I call you Alex?" He asked
"please do I'm your employee after all" I smiled back at him
"Alex then, I didn't say anything about your outfit since it's clean and well enough done, but if you don't mind, would you get a robe over it tomorrow? Plain black will do fine. Some folk don't like seeing muggle garments much, not that your jacket and pants with a button down much differs from ours or your future school uniform but some older families will notice immediately from the cut and the fabric and get offended so.." Tom ended awkwardly
I almost hit myself for this stupid oversight
It was so obvious everyone walking around in robes some had something similar underneath their open robes? Wizard jacket? I didn't know what to call it. Then there were others, who had more like closed robes monks use first and then one more robe on top of that with an opening in front, perhaps it was cloak?
I quickly reassured Tom that I would have it sorted out tomorrow first thing, and thanked him for the honesty because I had completely overlooked such a thing in my excitement to join the wizarding world.
"Although Tom, I just came by a substantial sum of money, if you happen to have one of those robes I could throw over my clothes and not look out of place. I might just buy it from your hands in order to not make trouble in my morning routine." I said with a clever smirk and a posh voice to let him know with my jest that I took no offense and needed no handouts.
Tom looked relieved and indeed pulled out a bit dusty and older robe grey in color but that would go well with my grey jacket and pants and white shirt.
"Good lad, for one measly sickle this beauty will be yours" Tom said with an equally pompous voice
I immediately haggled "one sickle? Are you a mental old man? one knut and handshake is one knut too much " I fired back immediately, with my best street thug voice.
Tom burst out laughing " haha well said boy here have it, take it as work uniform if your pride needs convincing" he said and pulled a wand out of his pocket gave it a flick towards the robe and all the dust just seemed to fall off
"There we go, good as new" Tom said satisfied and gave it to me
I hastily schooled my face, because I went absolutely bug eyed as I saw him pull the deadly weapon out of his pocket, like some pencil.
"Holy shit! is the man mad? Is it normal to keep a deadly weapon, easily breakable one at that. In a god damned pocket?" I swore furiously inside my face wooden with a pleasant smile hiding my thoughts
I threw on the outer robe over myself and it was clear how it was way too big for me
"Hey Tom. You mind if I visit Madam Malkinn hastily to fix this, and ask about my school robes before she closes down for the night?" I asked Tom in a neutral tone.
Tom also looked a bit awkward as he answered" sure lad go ahead "
———————————————————————
Madam Malkin's was still open when I got there so I stood on a side waiting her to deal with her customer, after watching a boy—pureblood by the look of his entourage and his mother spoke to the shop staff like they were furniture—being fitted for robes that cost more than everything I owned combined.
I waited until the rush cleared the outer robe neatly folded over my left hand. Leaving my sleeve open to pull out my wand if I need it. Not that it would do any good since I didn't know any spells but "lumos" but it is good to get into the habit of it.
Madam Malkin moved behind her counter like she lived in a different kind of time, one measured in hems and sleeves rather than minutes. When she finally looked at me, her expression was polite, neutral.
"Yes, dear?"
I stepped forward and kept my posture straight. And gave a small polite bow as matr.. Mary had taught me and others.
"Good evening, Madam. My name is Alexander Hawthorn."
I inclined my head politely.
"I've recently taken a position at the Leaky Cauldron — assisting Tom in the mornings in exchange for room and meals for the month. Any additional work is paid fairly."
I allowed a small pause so it didn't sound like I was reciting a contract.
"My intention is to integrate properly into the wizarding world. I would rather earn what I need than rely on circumstance."
Another measured breath.
"I hoped to ask a few questions about robes — and whether there might be ways to make use of my existing skills to earn a few extra galleons. I have some experience with sewing and garment repair."
Only then did I lift the folded robe slightly.
"Tom was kind enough to provide this as a work garment — an outer robe, I believe? Although it's a bit too big. So I was hoping to either learn a spell to do the work myself or pay for some needle and thread and perhaps tips on how to keep the work still acceptable to the wizarding world standard even if done by hand.
I said calmly, offering her the robe so she may inspect it" I'm still unfamiliar with the correct terminology. I've been told my muggle clothes are acceptable but… not ideal." I added and pointed towards my outfit with a faint, self-aware smile.
"The orphanage I grew up in insisted on formality. I suspect wizarding standards differ only slightly if at all."
She tilted her head. "Go on." She said with small smile
"I know how to sew," I said. "Repair work, mostly. The orphanages taught us. It was cheaper than replacing clothes."
Her eyes sharpened slightly at the word , then softened again. The kind of practiced softness adults put on when they remembered children had histories.
Madam Malkin did not answer immediately.
Instead, she reached forward and took the robe from my hands.
She held it up, fingers pressing into the seams, testing the fall of the fabric. Her eyes flicked from the shoulders to the hem, then back to me.
"It's two sizes too broad in the shoulder," she said mildly. "Sleeves are long. Hem is uneven from age, not wear."
She turned it inside out in one smooth motion.
"You want it resized?"
"Yes, Madam."
"Do you know how?"
The question was casual. The tone was not.
"Yes."
No elaboration.
Her brow lifted slightly.
"Hand stitching? Machine? Or magic?"
"Hand," I replied. "Backstitch for seams. Ladder stitch for closing. I can adjust waist and taper sleeves.
I've mended uniforms for years instead of buying new uniforms when old ones are just fine, only a bit big, so they taught us how to properly mend and resize them. Later they didn't buy clothes at all, just took charity donations from adults so we got pretty good at it."
That seemed to interest her more than my job arrangement had.
She walked behind the counter, retrieved a measuring tape, and gestured for me to step onto the platform.
"Arms out."
I obeyed.
She measured efficiently. Shoulder width. Arm length. Chest. Back.
"Orphanage?"
"Yes, Madam."
"Explains the posture." She nodded
I wasn't sure if that was praise or commentary.
She stepped back and studied me.
"You intend to alter this yourself?"
"If permitted. Under supervision. I won't waste your fabric. I believe this would also save me money so I may buy more study materials"
That made her eyes sharpen slightly.
"You assume I'd let you touch my materials?"
"No," I said calmly. "I assume you wouldn't.Still hope is there so I asked."
A beat of silence.
Then — the faintest twitch at the corner of her mouth.
"Come behind the counter," she said.
I did.
She placed the robe flat on the cutting table.
"Show me how you would mark it."
No wand. No magic. Just chalk.
I picked it up, folded the excess fabric at the shoulder seam, measured by eye first, then confirmed with the tape. I marked clean lines. Efficient. Minimal waste.
She watched my hands, not my face.
"You've done this before, I must admit I didn't truly believe you before. I thought you were stretching the truth a bit when you claimed you have been doing this for years. It seems you were honest if not a bit modest too." She said with genuine smile
She took the robe back and, without comment, drew her wand.
A single precise flick.
The seams shifted. Fabric tightened. Hem lifted. Sleeves shortened. It settled perfectly, looking like it was made for my frame in seconds.
I did not react outwardly.
"Resizing Charm," she said. "Basic domestic magic. You'll learn it in a second year. Earlier, if you're observant."
I nodded " is it forbidden to teach the wand motion and the incantation so I would be able to practice it privately. Also does it work both ways if the robe is too small will it enlarge it and how much? Lastly, is there a limit? Does the spell end somehow or is it permanent?
She set the wand down deliberately slowly, studying me as if I were a bolt of cloth she wasn't sure whether to cut or preserve.
Then she smiled.
"Oh, we are going to get along just fine, young man."
She leaned one hip against the table.
"First — no, it isn't forbidden. But it is irresponsible to hand incantations to children who have yet to learn discipline on how and when to use them."
A pause.
She picked the robe up again and tugged lightly at the sleeve.
"Second — yes, the charm works both ways. Expand or reduce. Within limits."
"How much?" I asked.
She nodded approvingly at the follow-through.
"Roughly one and a half standard sizes safely. Two, if the material allows. Beyond that, the structure begins to strain."
"Strain how?"
"Threads destabilizing. Weaving loosens. The fabric forgets what it was, and something weird usually happens when there is too much magic and not enough material to hold it." She said with a shrug then pointed to a more smooth and vibrant fabric pack on the shelf of dozens of colors
"For that reason the more magically conducive fabrics such as Acromantula silk, Bowtruckle weave, Dragon leather and Demiguise hair to name a few,are highly desirable in a wizarding world each for their own purposes.They all hold spells and enchantments phenomenally well. Because they are produced by magical creatures,basically from pure magic it is very hard to tear or damage without magic deliberately made to harm"
That last line she let hang for a bit and watched my reactions.
I just nodded seriously.
"You may stretch a robe beyond its natural tolerance," she continued, "but it will thin,fade and tear under stress. Basically it will fail if used beyond its limits yes even Acromantula silk"
"And permanence?" I asked.
She lifted her wand again.
"Permanent, unless countered within twenty-four hours. That's how long it usually takes for the spell to solidify in lack of better words, sure some are better than others mine for example only take six hours" she said with a proud smile of a craftsman who knows their value
"It can also be undone if poorly cast. Sloppy work bleeds back over time and it will usually unravel in the most spectacular fashion" she smiled at me
Her eyes flicked to me sharply.
"Which is why we do not hand children spells without teaching them why and how they function when they start learning a craft"
I nodded understanding her point
"Now" she began" If you want to earn extra coin, you will not begin with my silk, or cotton"
Another pause.
"Another thing is,it's my busiest month and it's getting busier the closer we get to September 1. So I have very little time to supervise you, you have to get things done by yourself mostly. Are we in agreement?" She asked
"You will begin with scrap pieces and make something out of them that is useful and worthwhile. I suggest you begin with the pieces made of regular cotton,linen and silk before moving towards magical fabrics"she said kindly
She gestured toward a basket beneath the table — offcuts of fine fabric. Discarded for being imperfect. Not unusable.
"If you can stitch those cleanly — muggle method first — then I may show you how we do it properly, that's your payment, spells you wish to know before your time, but I will make sure you know well how and why to use them.Any questions Mr Hawthorn?"
I pondered this for a while then nodded " yes few, and you can call me just Alex,since you're kindly letting me learn valuable things practically for free, so let's not be too formal shall we" I said honestly offering my hand palm upwards as Mary taught me.
She seemed to stare a bit while reflexively offering her hand and I gave a small bow due to our height difference, and a small kiss on her knuckles
I strained myself to stay calm and waited patiently for her response, since she seemed to be thinking how to say it delicately.
"Did you not say you were a muggle orphan?"
"I did. And I am."
She studied me.
"Then how," she asked carefully, "do you know the formal customs of the Old Houses?"
I furrowed my brows" My orphanage caretaker had a habit of making us learn old noble customs of British aristocracy when we misbehaved. It was an all-boys orphanage — so we did that a lot" I explained carefully, not wishing to insult her, or the old houses if she was part of them.
Madam Malkin studied me for a moment longer.
Then, instead of narrowing her eyes or withdrawing her hand, she laughed softly — not mocking, but pleased.
"Well," she said, smoothing her skirts with quiet satisfaction, "that explains it."
She did not pull her hand away immediately, merely adjusted her grip and gave me a look that was far warmer than before.
"You see, Alex, before the Statute of Secrecy separated us from the wider world, the Old Houses were not hidden curiosities tucked behind brick walls."
She began moving about her shop again as she spoke, measuring tape draped around her neck like a sash of office.
"They were very much part of British society. Advisors to kings. Patrons of scholars. Some of them trace their lineage — with varying degrees of honesty — all the way back to Arthur and Merlin."
Her lips curved slightly at that.
"Wizarding families were not separate from aristocracy. In many cases, they were the aristocracy."
She gestured vaguely, as though pointing to an invisible tapestry of history.
"When the Statute came into effect, much was hidden. Lands lost. Titles abandoned publicly. But customs?" She shook her head lightly. "Customs endure."
She looked back at me with open approval now.
"So yes. The formalities you were taught — bows, hand-kissing, posture, modes of address — many of the Old Houses still practice them. Especially the purer lines."
Her gaze sharpened just slightly — not in warning, but in education.
"Some cling to them out of pride. Some out of tradition. Some out of fear of losing what little distinguishes them now."
Then she smiled again — relaxed, almost amused.
"And some simply enjoy good manners."
She gave the sleeve of my resized robe a final approving tug.
"You needn't worry about offending anyone with courtesy. It rarely harms."
A beat passed.
"If anything," she added lightly, "it unsettles people who expect less."
Her eyes sparkled faintly.
I smiled more openly this time.
"Well, that is good to know."
I let the moment settle before continuing.
"Then I suppose it's settled. I'll begin with the scraps tomorrow."
A slight pause.
"And — when you have properly evaluated my competence — I would like to ask what it might cost to construct my school robes from higher-quality remnants."
She looked at me evaluating
"You intend to improve your station through presentation," she observed.
"Yes," I replied simply. "Matron Mary taught us that we cannot control our origin, but we can at least control how we present ourselves in society."
That seemed to please her far more than any flattery would have.
"This Matron Mary seems to be a woman of great insight," Madam Malkin said thoughtfully. "I have always held the opinion that manners — and the ability to dress to one's advantage — should be taught early, so they become instinct rather than performance, it so often seems until people learn to be better."
She nodded once, satisfied with her own conclusion.
"Let us move forward one step at a time."
She gestured toward the growing darkness beyond the shop windows.
"I can promise you this: if you reach my standards, your school robes will cost you no more than the materials themselves. This set is meant to last you the whole seven years so it's usually just resized later when needed. I assume you want the winter cloak too?"
I nodded immediately " yes ma'am"
She smiled and nodded, then her gaze sharpened slightly.
"I will not expect enchantments — that would be both unreasonable and impossible at your stage. But I will expect proper,tidy craftsmanship. Clean seams. Proper balance. Work I would not be ashamed to sell."
There was firmness in her voice, but no unkindness.
I nodded immediately, a wide smile breaking through before I could restrain it — and for once, I did not try.
"Thank you, Madam Malkin. I won't disappoint you."
I gathered the resized robe carefully over my arm.
"I should return to the Leaky before Tom decides I've been swallowed by Diagon Alley," I added lightly.
She huffed a quiet laugh.
"Off with you, then."
"Yes, good night Madam"
I offered a polite nod — lacking a hat to tip — and stepped back into the evening. I decided to put on the robe instead of just carrying it over my arm like before.
I walked back to a Leaky Cauldron robe flowing around and behind me in a slight breeze. It felt surprisingly nice and natural.
I pulled out my wand, and tapped on the wall where a single faded yellow brick stood out from the rest like a sore thumb, to open the wall to the backyard of Leaky Cauldron. Putting my wand back in my holster as I got to the stairs and waved Tom as I went towards my room. He smiled at me, as he saw my now fitting robes and nodded appreciatively.
I entered my room and sighed, it has been a very long day. Only my second in the wizarding world and I was already neck deep in work and magical knowledge about this and that.Knowledge I needed and wanted to know. Different things and curiosities pulling me in all directions.
"It was already hard to decide what to do and where to go so perhaps I should make a list and a goal for my near future, as well as my overall goal" I thought as I sat on my bed. I opened my notebook and crossed through most of the list I made in the morning. Occlumency along with the rest of my school supplies was left that I had not finished, but I think Occlumency is something to do with the mind.
Perhaps a magic to process thoughts better or meditation of sorts. Perhaps it was magic to protect the mind but I think something like that would be taught in first year anyway, so I don't think I need to look for it too hard.
Regarding to my school supplies I think I have them pretty well in hand. Wand and trunk I have one of which was practically a steal with few enchantments to boot. Wand I just paid, simply cause it's not something I should or could have haggled in the first place.
"My school robes are being dependent on my deal with Madam Malkin, and I have just a few more things in a list I need to get as cheap as possible. then rest of the funds if there's any left I can use in useful books to widen my knowledge base on the wizarding world" I thought with a small excited smile and sat down on my bed next to my trunk.
Everything potions related still needs to be bought,same with books. Although I should look if there's used books of those in the list in Scribner's Exchange, that man definitely earned my business.
I took out letter and the equipment list to see what I still needed:
Uniform
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils clothes should carry name tags
"Hat? Oh that's going to be fun, like in that The Colour of Magic book? I'm going to enchant my hat to be amazing and wizardly later on when I know how" I thought excitedly as I eyed downward to the list of books.
Looking what I need to keep my eye out for tomorrow:
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
I looked through it, and decided to get most of them tomorrow so I'dd have most of the month to learn a few good spells for daily use and for occasional self protection. I glanced at the next part of the list to see what else was needed.
Other Equipment
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 telescope
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
I read it through a few times, then noticed — to my amusement — that trunks weren't mentioned,at all. Is it perhaps so normal it's been forgotten from the list?
"Luckily I got one already" I thought and tapped my suitcase sized trunk that was next to me on the bed. I glanced at the room and decided to look at myself in the mirror on the corner, perhaps my magic has changed me somehow. I couldn't really remember when I saw myself last, perhaps when they cut my hair last, usually the last of every month.
I stood in front of the mirror and felt a tiny shock.It felt weird to see an eleven-year-old boy looking back. The boy had neat short blond hair, grey blue eyes and full lips. None of it felt mine, yet it was very much me.
That boy was wearing a uniform of St.Helens orphanage for boys.Uniform was worn but neat and it included: grey slacks,grey jacket, white shirt, black tie and dress shoes. Over that he had open grey robes.
The boy wasn't short per se, about 145cm.Still I felt my mirror image should be taller. That I should be taller.
"You look good, dearie," said a female voice — echoing faintly from the mirror's surface."
I blinked at my reflection."Did you just speak?Is that normal in the wizarding world?" I asked the mirror, while still taking in my looks.
"Oh yes dear, I am but an enchantment. Designed to help wizards and witches to keep looking at their best at all times" she replied a bit self importantly " by the way dear you shouldn't wear a jacket underneath the robes unless you're outside,a vest should be enough, it's not fashionable you know."
I nodded to the mirror since,what else could I do? I don't own a vest of any kind, perhaps I could make one tomorrow.
I threw my outer robe over the mirror and it seemed to silence it in mid sentence about how "you should get new clothes too since, your current one's seem rather worn do.." I shook my head in slight exasperation " what next" I muttered to myself.
I loosened my tie, pulled out my wand and tapped my suitcase sized trunk, and it swelled to its full size. I took the suitcase I got from the orphanage and put it in the corner of my trunk. It wasn't really in the way or anything. I just wanted to use my wand,magical trunk and feel like a real wizard I was determined to become.
I closed the trunk and shrank it with a muttered "parvus" and a tap of my wand then I lifted the now suitcase sized trunk on the table next to the mirror.I smiled to myself, feeling truly happy. No matter the danger coming ahead, magic is definitely worth it.