4 Welcome! To Diagon Alley!
A/N: Diagon Alley scene. Too much info dump, along with a few unnecessary scenes. Enjoy!
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29th July, 1930:
The Government, and some charities, would provide money for us measly orphans, that would cover our living expenses, food, in house tuition, library, and some spare pocket change. Even after all that, the Orphanage management still saved more than half the money they received.
So, discounting all the orphan expenses, a pocket money of £3 per week, and all the monthly salaries, and other various expenses, our institution would still usually have anywhere from £1000 to £10,000, yearly.
But the depression was hitting the Orphanage a bit hard. Where previous years, the orphanage had managed to save £20,000 of the total donations, which was frankly mind boggling, this year, the numbers were down to £3000.
But, old Mr Stockwell had kept most of that money aside, so that the orphans have something to fall back on. And, so he can evade taxes. But I don't particularly care about that.
What I do care about, is the fact that Sister Agnes talked with Mr Stockwell, who said he'll talk with Professor Dumbledore, when he comes to take me to buy supplies, so they can work the right amount out.
Sure, they could give me some £500 pounds, and said, "Piss off." But there's no guarantee that £500 will be enough for supplies. Probably not. Which is why, all 4 of us, including the lovely Ms Stockwell, the old bastard's daughter, for Dumbledore to come pick me up, with 5 cups ready, and the tea on the stove.
Finally, sharp at 0900, as the Great War veteran Stockwell would like to say, Dumbledore was shown in by Sister Laura.
She glances at the lovely Monica Stockwell, controls her blush brilliantly, and then leaves. By, God! What are those thoughts! Remember your vows, Sister!
I shake my head at the dirty minded, and apparently closeted Sister Laura, and bring myself back to the meeting.
".. will be enough? Are you sure?" Mr Stockwell asks, in disbelief, looking at Dumbledore.
Huh? What? How much? I was not listening! How much dough are you giving me, old man? Say the number again! I did not hear!
Dumbledore, looking at my frustrated face, chuckles, and answers Mr Stockwell, "Yes, Mr Stockwell. Our school grows our own food, in our own farms. We have a lot of workers under contract, so you don't need to worry."
Say. The. Amount. You old bastards.
Mr Stockwell lets out a sigh, making the others sigh too. Sister Agnes was crying happy tears, but I don't want to find out why exactly.
He says, "Very well. I will give young Mason £300, but are you sure, it'll be enough?"
£300! I'm getting £300! For a year! That's awesome! Now I know why he's so worried. £300, while being way more than enough for me, is very less for the adults. Plus, they probably expected something like £1k or £2k per year, just for supplies.
I can make do with £300. And I'll steal some from the rich snobs if I'm desperate enough.
I look at Dumbledore, who says, "Well, it's not my decision to make either way. The average amount needed for the supplies for our school is £600 for the first years. The school provides young orphans with £550 so most of the supplies are easily bought. It gets a little bit easier, and cheaper, for the next years, as a lot of supplies are reusable. So, yes. £300 is more than enough for young Mr Aves to spend his year."
And so it was, that I left the Orphanage with Prof. Dumbledore, £300 richer, but the money in Prof Dumbledore's custody.
He had apparated us, from an alley near the Stockwell Park Rd, to somewhere I know is near Charring Cross Road. Apparating was an experience. I'm pretty sure it's not supposed to be even a little bit comfortable, for anyone, but people just got used to it.
I had to dry heave for a minute, before I could walk straight again, and the Evil Dumbledore was amused at that.
Shaking my head, I walk beside him, as he moves towards where the Magical district is.
"So.. are you sure you know where we are going?" I ask, breaking the silence.
Dumbles turns towards me, and smiles, his eyes somehow twinkling. He says, "Why, Mr Aves. We're already there." And motions towards an area actively avoided by everyone walking around.
This is London, there's very little space to even walk around. Yet, that one area, was pretty much as uncrowded as it can get.
I look up, and see a board, naming the establishment as 'The Leaky Cauldron.'
"The Leaky Cauldron? Seriously? What's next? Top hats, and cackling potions?" I say, looking at the bar.
"While you do have hats and Potions, which we'll buy today, you won't necessarily have to use them." Dumbles says, and starts crossing the road, walking towards it.
I look around, and notice something. I ask, "Why are the people avoiding us? Or even that bar?"
"Well, first, that's an inn. It serves alcohol, yes, but it's an inn first. Secondly, I am using a piece of magic, that enables to move without anyone noticing me. Of course, if someone wants to find me, they definitely will. This piece of magic is not all powerful." Dumbles says, as we walk inside the Leaky Cauldron.
This is way better than what I'd remembered from the movies. Even the books made it sound like it was the most dreary place in the world. Bur this place is actually cool.
The bar, and it is a bar, no matter what he says, was filled with patrons. There were about 10-12 round tables, and 2 bigger rectangular tables, most of them occupied, with either families, or just friends.
Then, there was the bar. There were stools, and only a few were occupied with morning tea drinkers.
"Mornin' Albus." The barkeep says, nodding his head at Dumbles, while a boy, about my age, but probably older, was cleaning the cups with a towel.
"Morning, Rupert. Young Tom." Dumbles says, greeting them. He turns to me, and says, "Mr Aves, these are Rupert Dodderidge and his son Tom. They're the owners of this establishment, and their family has managed it for close to 400 years now. Rupert, Tom, this is Mr Mason Aves. He's joining Hogwarts this year."
I shake their hands, while Mr Rupert speaks up, "Nice to meet ya, lad. My son, Tom goes to Hogwarts too. It's his third year now. If ya need anything, be sure to find him"
"Nice to meet you, too, sir. And I will." I say, nodding at Tom, and memorizing his face.
Dumbles speaks up, rubbing his hands, "Well, we should be going. Lot's of stuff to do, and lot's to buy. I'll be by for lunch later, Rupert."
"Aye. I'll be here either way." Rupert says, and chuckles.
We go towards the back, as I follow him, and contain my excitement as much as I can. But, judging by Dumble's face, I was failing.
Once we're in the back, Dumbles brings out his wand, and says, "Look carefully. Once you have your own wand, you should be able to do this too. Tap your wand in this pattern, and it'll open the doorway to the Magical District of Diagon Alley. Watch."
I nod simply, as he taps 3 bricks one after the other. All three of those bricks are easy to reach even for me. As he tapped the last brick, the bricks in the wall began to move, like it was a puzzle that needed solving, and once it was done, the way was opened, showing a colourful alley, filled with Magic.
I gape at it, and keep looking at the various views, right in front of my eyes.
"Welcome, Mr Aves, to Diagon Alley!" Dumbledore says, waving his hands like he just did an amazing presentation. Well, he kinda did.
"This is beautiful." I whisper out, looking at everything.
He begins walking, so I speed up to follow him, all the while looking at the different shops, trying to see everything. I also did not remain idle.
I knew, this was the first of the many chances I had, to try and see if Wizards can detect my telepathy. So, I widened my mind, and kept my Telepathy contained to a few blocks diameter, so I can hear only within the alley.
I purposefully, neglect even touching Dumbledore's brain, and even actively avoid it, as he's definitely not being my first test subject.
My first victim, turns out to be a simple man, buying something in the jewellery store. Yup, Diagon Alley has a Jewellery store.
So, I focused on his mind, and went in. Nothing. Literally nothing.
No, no, I heard his thoughts pretty clearly. I meant nothing was in my way! I literally had an open door to hear everything. He was going to propose in a few days, and wanted to buy a ring for that. Good man! Good luck, mate.
Next victim, the lady selling fish. She was going to swindle the rich looking lady, and get more money. Well, what can you do. Business.
Only 12 minds, in the 40 I tried to listen to had something even resembling a shield. But even those shields were not enough to stop me, obviously. I went inside their minds, and came out, both undetected. Cool. Either Occlumency is a tough art to master, no one learns it anymore, or I'm severely over estimating wizards.
By now, we had reached the steps to Gringott's, Dumbledore unaware of my jaunts through minds. How do I know? Psychology, bitches. If he'd have even suspected I was doing something with the people's minds, he would have reacted. It could have been something major, like blowing up at me, or something minor like twitching hands, and a passive mental scan.
He did none of those, so yes, I'm sure he did not detect what just happened. And it was barely a minute long jaunt through the minds.
Anyway, we walk inside the Gringott's doors, and then come to another set of doors. Huh. This was not in the movies. This is from the books.
This second set of doors had the vaguely threatening poem we all know. I read it, as I'm a normal human being, and we enter the bank proper.
The bank lobby, looked like a bloody reception lobby of a 5 star hotel. There was gold everywhere. Probably just Golden coloured stone or something, but still.
As we walk inside, on both sides of us, were high chairs, with what I recognize as the Goblins from the movies, sitting on them, with Podiums, just as high in front of them. The chairs were high enough, that wizards had to just look up a little to talk to the Goblins. Smart.
There were about 20 of them on both sides, and one right in front of us. There were boards on their podiums, with their names, position, and what the purpose of coming to that particular podium should be.
A few I read were Inheritance Tests, Validity Tests, Key renewal, General Inquiries, Currency Exchange, Money Withdrawal, and many more. The one in the middle was the one that dealt with Money Withdrawal.
There were a few Goblins, for subjects related to loans, either taking them, or paying for them. There were even a few podiums for buying and selling stuff, including houses. And the one which I was most interested in, but no one else was, was "Miscellaneous Services."
That was so vague, even I, a 11 year old knew that it was something that's not supposed to be known openly. I still kept my wandering mind to myself. Don't want to die on the first day in the Wizarding World because there were some laws about reading minds in Gringott's or something.
There were even about 20-30 Goblins standing near the walls, some of them moving between the Podiums. They were probably the runners, meant to guide the patrons to their vaults, or go take a message to the higher ups, or something.
Dumbledore walked us towards the right side, 3rd from the one in the centre, where the currency exchange Podium was. The line was only two people long, and it looked like they were both together.
So it took us barely a minute, to exchange the £300 that Mr Stockwell had given us, and get 75 Galleons, 9 Sickles, and 18 Knuts(G75, S9, K18), with the current exchange rate of 3.97 Pounds per Galleon. Along with the G200 that the school gave for me, that makes me worth G275. Nice.
And so, after me snickering at the Goblin saying 18 Knuts, Dumbledore says, "I will need a pouch with it, please."
"5 Sickles." The Goblin says, and immediately takes the money from my stack, and offers Dumbledore a small pouch.
I look at the pouch the size of my fist, and then at Dumbledore. I ask, "Are you sure it'll be enough? Won't we need, I don't know, 25 more of those pouches?"
The Goblin opens his mouth, and moves his hand to take some more of my money, when Dumbledore waves hi hand at the Goblin, stopping him. He says, "There's no need for that. One bag will be enough."
He then turns to me, says, "Watch, Mr Aves." And waves his right hand. In one single file, all the coins lift up from the Podium, and starts going into the pouch, and keeps going, until all of those coins vanish into the bag.
Okay, first of all, brilliant. That was not telekinesis, but magic. Wandless magic! So at least I was going the right direction with my own training.
He hands me the pouch, which I thoroughly examine from all directions, and says, "That pouch, has an extension charm cast on it. That means, the space inside the pouch, is much bigger than the size of the pouch itself. This one, is yours. Take care of it."
I nod, and whisper out, "Brilliant!" with my eyes wide.
Sure, I've used telekinesis, and some of the charms I remember, but this was sort of an extended space. The laws of physics inside the bag are different than the ones outside it! It's.. amazing!
Still amazed, we walk out, to begin our shopping. I mean, my shopping.
--- 1 Hour later.---
Okay, I know I'm excited for Hogwarts, but this is too much. I've been either walking, or standing, for an hour now, and I'm tired.
First we went to get a trunk, because wooden trunks are awesome, and easier to enchant than those muggle suitcases. I spent 10 minutes in that shop alone, choosing a trunk for myself, while Dumbledore gave advice.
Finally, 10 minutes later, I walked out with a simple trunk, made of wood, and a lock so no one but I can open it. It cost me G37! £148 for a trunk!
Anyway, after that, we went to the clothing store, where I wasted another 5 minutes just for them to take measurements and send me out. They'd called me back in an hour, to collect my Uniform.
That Uniform cost me G50. Well, 50 for the whole collection. 3 sets of Uniform, 2 pointed hats, a winter cloak, and 2 sets of plain black robes for everyday use. It was a good sale.
Next, time passed smoothly, collecting the telescope, Cauldron, phials, and everything I might need for Potions, including the Ingredients, dragon hide gloves, and scales. Scales. SCALES! I was a millenial who used Digital weights for literally everything, and now I'm going to be using scales.
The next stop was Flourish and Blotts, where we got the First Year set, and I also added a few more books that I liked. Introduction to Runes, History of the whole Wizarding World, and not just Britain, and yes, that was the name of a book.
Fantastic Beasts and where to find them, was a book that I immediately tried to read, but Dumbledore closed it and put it in my trunk with the rest of the stuff. He said, "You can read that at home. For now, let's get your shopping over with."
And yes, all of that stuff fit in my Trunk. When you open the trunk, you see 7 different compartments, about half a foot wide each. When you insert your hand in any one of those compartments, the specific compartment extends to cover the whole Trunk's space.
And now, finally Dumbledore says, "Let's have lunch before continuing. You look tired."
"I have been, for the last half hour, but thank you for noticing, Professor." I say, snarking at him.
Dumbles ignores the snark, and says, "You're welcome." And sits down on a seat outside an Ice cream parlor.
Ignoring his annoying behaviour, I sit down in front of him, dropping my trunk next to me. Thankfully, it felt lighter than it actually was, due to one of the enchantments on it.
Waving air to my face, I look around. We were sitting outside the Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream parlor. There were two rectangular tables, connected to each other, and two of those giant umbrellas floating above us, giving us shade.
"Two chocolate sundaes, and Pretzels, Florean." Dumbles says, waving at the server, but judging by the name, he was also the owner.
"Right away, Professor!" Florean says, and goes inside.
"You're famous." I note looking at Dumbledore. I mean, sure I know he was going to become famous when he defeats Grindelwald. But even now, he has a lot of connections.
"Of course. I've been teaching for 27 years now, switching between Transfiguration and Defence against the Dark Arts. Many of the people here have either had me as a Professor, have their kids as my students, or they were my classmates. Like old Rupert, back in the Leaky. He was two years above me. Florean's father, when he was alive, was in my class, and was a good friend of mine." Dumbledore says, and then thanks Florean, who just brought the Pretzels and Ice cream.
He then says, "You should know, Mr Aves, that the Wizarding World, is very small. While only 0.1% of the total population are wizards, most of the wizards know each other."
"0.1%?" I ask, widening my eyes. That.. was more than I expected. He nods at my question, so I ask, "Doesn't that still mean that there are like 37 thousand wizards in the United Kingdom alone? Do they all go to Hogwarts, or are there other schools?"
Dumbledore smiles at the question, points at the food in front of me, and answers, "Yes, they all go to Hogwarts. But the population is not just Wizards alone. Those 37,000 also include Squibs, meaning non magicals born to magicals, those who have already left Hogwarts, those who are yet to join Hogwarts, and those that aren't allowed to join Hogwarts, like Werewolves, or Vampires."
"Werewolves and vampires." I whisper, acting the shocked kid, and shudder. I take a bite of another pretzel, after dipping it in my ice cream. I'm a kid, sue me.
He continues, "That leaves some 400-600 children, between the ages of 11 and 18, who go to Hogwarts each year, with each class having an average of 70 students. But the number varies due to various factors."
I nod sagely, and say, "Adults not getting horny enough, or getting too horny."
Dumbles, who was eating a big bite of his sundae, like a monster, spilled it all out in shock, some of it even going in his nose.
He wipes his nose, and the tears in his eyes, and says, "Quite. I'd like to say that this kind of language is not allowed in Hogwarts. You will be punished if caught using such words."
I shrug, not caring either way. I'm not going to be using my adult language in front of kids. Bigger kids, probably. But not 11 year olds.
We finish eating the sundae, and pretzels, with Dumbles paying for them both, and then I drag the trunk, walking beside Dumbles.
He says, "Now, time for your wand. After which, we'll go look ay pets. Do you need a pet?"
I understand why he asked. I only have muggle guardians, and even that's from the Orphanage. They're probably not allowed to know about magic, or he'd have told them. So I can't get an owl. As for the others, I don't even want to get a cat, or god forbid, a toad.
I shake my head, and answer, "For now, no. If I need one, I'll simply get one. Let's go get my Magic Wand."
In barely a minute, we reach the door to a posh store. The name board outside says, "Ollivander's: Makers of fine wands since 382 BC."
So what did Wizards use before that? Someone else's wands? Staves? I'll find out later anyway.
Dumbledore opens the door, and waves me inside, while he stays outside. That confirms it. Wand selection is a private affair if not even teachers stay there.
I walk in, to a twinkle of a bell. Huh? Shouldn't it have rung when Dumbles actually opened the door? Whatever. Magic.
"I'M COMING!" An old voice shouts from the inside.
I shake my head and walk forward, waiting at the front desk. Barely a few seconds later, an old man, that looks disturbingly similar to the Ollivander from the movies, is standing in front of me, staring creepily in my eyes.
"Mr.. Aves. Yes. I did not expect to see you here." The old Ollivander says.
"You know who I am?" I blurt out, taking a couple steps back. I did not feel him entering my mind, so how did he know my name? And what did he mean he did not expect to see me here?
Ollivander chuckles and says, "Of course. I knew your grandfather, when he was alive. Harrison Aves. 11 inches, Aspen, Phoenix feather."
Okay, this just got weird. My grandpa, my mum's father, was a wizard. I did not expect that. So most probably, he abandoned my mother because she was born a squib, bloody bastard.
Ollivander looks at me again, creepily, and offers his hand. He says, "Gervaise Ollivander. Pleased to meet you."
I shake his hand and greet back, "Mason Aves. Pleased to meet you as well. A question? What happened to my grandfather? And is there anyone else related to me alive?"
Gervaise looks outside, at Dumbledore waiting patiently with his back to us, and says, "Well, he died. Some 30-35 years ago. It was an accident. The aurors said something about your uncle experimenting with Fiendfyre. Unfortunately, no one survived the event, and even their house burned down. You should visit the Goblins later, if you want more information."
I nod, and speak up, "One last question. How did you recognize me? Do I look similar to him, or something?"
Gervaise chuckles and says, "No, my boy. You look like your uncle. Your uncle had his mother's, your grandmother's looks. Harrison was as ugly as they come." He laughs at his own joke, making me even more creeped out.
Seriously, laughing at the looks of your dead friend? Right in front of his grandson? Granted the man was probably a bastard, as he abandoned my mother, no matter the reason. But now, I have a new short term aim. Find out what actually happened to my family.
What luck? My father's side of the family is bat shit crazy, and all made up of rapists, while my mother's family died in a Fiendfyre accident. Or was it? I need to find out.
"Let's get to it then." Gervaise says, rubbing his hands together, and then pauses. He looks behind himself, and shouts out, "GARRICK! COME HERE YOU LAZY CUNT! MATCH THIS YOUNG WIZARD WITH HIS WAND!"
A loud thud is heard, following which, a man in his 20s or 30s comes out of the back room, rubbing his head. Garrick Ollivander. The one who gave Harry his wand. Huh.
He grumbles something, to which Gervaise slaps his head, and then says, "Ha! Get used to it. Who will do this once I'm gone, huh?"
Garrick rubs the sleep out of his eyes, and looks at me. His eye colour, which was brown just a moment ago, turns silver, and his stare turns creepy.
"YOUR EYES! THAT'S HOW YOU MATCH WANDS!" I shout, triumphantly pointing at the scowling Gervaise.
He glares at Garrick, making him sweat, and say, "I.. did not mean to do that, father. That was a mistake."
"Your birth was a mistake." Gervaise states, gritting his teeth. Apparently that was a bigger secret than I thought.
I raise my hand, making the two look at me, and say, "If it makes it any better, I'm not going to tell anyone, nor am I planning on opening a wand shop."
Gervaise grunts, and waves Garrick to move on.
Garrick clears his throat, and looks at me with those creepy eyes again, and says, "Which is your wand hand?"
I raise my right hand, and barely hold myself from flinching, as the measuring tape zooms in, measuring the length of my hand, fingers the distance between each fingers, my height, and literally everything.
I let the tape work, and see Garrick going around the store, picking a few boxes, and building a stack in his hands. Once he's done gathering about a dozen wand boxes, he says, "That's enough." And comes back.
Either the tape was to keep me distracted, or it was to determine the length of the wand. I know Hagrid had a 16 inch wand, while Harry's was 11. So there's definitely some relation.
Garrick drops those boxes on the front desk, and opens the one on top. Without actually touching the wand, he offers the box to me, saying, "Elder, dragon heartstring. 10.5 inches. Rigid."
I gently pick it up, but don't feel anything special from it. He motions impatiently, and says, "Give it a wave."
I wave the wand, and a pulse of magic erupts from the wand, shooting at the vase, and breaking it.
"No, not that one." Gervaise says, calmly sipping tea.
"You think?" I snark, that wand scared me.
Garrick hands me the next wand on his list, Acacia, Unicorn hair, 12 inches, and I break the lights this time.
60 wands, and close to half an hour later, Garrick brings out another set of 10 boxes. The first 3 don't react, while the 4th one breaks the window. The 7th one, I feel something.
As soon as I pick it up, I feel warmth, the feeling of home, coming from the wand in my hand, making me smile. It was amazing, and I instinctively knew that this was the wand that chose me.
Looking at the encouragement from Gervaise and Garrick, I point the wand above my head, and wave it downwards.
I swear I heard a hymn at the back of my mind. There was a golden glow surrounding me, and blue and silver sparks flew out of the wand tip, making the room light up.
I feel my magic connecting to the wand. I feel the wand being intertwined with my magic. I feel myself, and my wand becoming one. And I realize, just why this ceremony is considered private.
I think I cried, a bit. I wipe my eyes with my left hand, while still smilingly staring at the wand in my hand.
"The wand has chosen you. It is a strong connection. Stronger than most of the Wizards I've matched." Gervaise says, bringing me out of my happiness.
I wipe my eyes again, and ask, "What is she wand made of?"
"She?" Gervais asks, as Garrick opens his mouth to answer my question.
I nod, and then shrug. I say, "I somehow just know."
"Hmm.." Gervaise says looking at me in my eyes. I feel a soft pressure on my shields, which quickly backs off. I glare at Gervaise, who waves his hands and says, "Just confirming, my child. You have stronger shields than most adult Wizards. Your mental strength will help you understand your wand better."
I nod, accepting but not forgetting. Garrick breaks the uncomfortable silence, by saying, "Acacia wood, 12 and a half inches. Quite bendy. And with a heartstring of a particularly old Hebridean Black dragon, as a core. It'll suit you well, Mr Aves."
I nod, caressing the wand. I put it back in the box, and ask, "How old was the dragon?"
Garrick shrugs, and looks at his father, who rolls his eyes, and answers, "It was 1100 years old when it died. The second oldest known dragon. My father made that wand. It'll truly suit you."
It's my turn to roll my eyes now, and I ask, "How much do I owe you?"
Gervaise answers, "4 Galleons."
I nod, and then ask, "What else do you sell? Any wand holder or something?"
Gervaise scowls at me and asks, "Do we look like cobblers to you, boy?"
I blush at that. I've read to many fanfics as Rahul. God, I'm not even going to do the traditional Goblin greetings I've practiced. Knowing my luck, that'll count as stereotyping or something.
I quickly hand him the four golden coins, pick the box containing my new wand, MY WAND!, and walk outside. I'll have to see if there's any books on wandlore in the store or something.
At least my trip ended so nicely. Acacia and Dragon heartstring, 12 and half inches, bendy. Hebridean Black dragon. I'll have to check the dragon out too. I hadn't read that much into the fandom wikia, to remember.
I still have a smile on my face when I exit the wand store, and meet Dumbledore. And I'm still smiling.
MY WAND!
---
A/N: That's actually my wand from pottermore. Except the Hebridean Black part, that was added by me.
I hope you loved this chapter!
Next chapter, off to Hogwarts!
Edit: Changed the amount of money he had!
