| Gnome
Join Date: Aug 2011
Posts: 276
First Year | 
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Chapter 6 - Diagon Alley
Seconds later, or at least what felt like seconds later, Mrs Burke was swishing the bedroom curtains aside and telling her to wake up and dress for Diagon Alley. Amara glanced at the clock on her bedside table, which said five past eight. Mrs Burke would be going with Amara while Mr Burke was off at work, so Amara seized this chance to remind her of her plan to go there with the Weasleys.
‘The Weasleys? Well... Carl doesn’t really think much of them...’ said Mrs Burke, trying to eat her toast with a fork.
‘But you were alright with them before,’ insisted Amara, wondering why Mrs Burke was acting so strangely.
‘Yes, yes...’ Mrs Burke glanced at Amara. ‘Oh, fine, but don’t tell him.’
‘Why not?’
‘I told you, he just doesn’t think much of them,’ Mrs Burke said in a tone that ended the matter, giving up on the toast and filling a bowl with pumpkin juice.
‘Mrs Burke, aren’t you supposed to put that in a glass?’ suggested Amara, frowning.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Mrs Burke, now drinking out of the bowl. ‘Yes, you’re quite right.’
A few minutes later they were at the Burrow, where the Weasleys were just finishing their breakfast. Mrs Weasley greeted them cheerily and forced plates of freshly-fried eggs and bacon onto them, asking them to sit at the table and talk so that when the time came to leave for Diagon Alley, it was already half past nine.
All the Weasleys, except for Mr Weasley who was already at work, lined up next to the fire, and Mrs Burke went in first, saying ‘Diagon Alley’ clearly before vanishing in a ripple of emerald flames. Percy and Ginny followed, then Mrs Weasley handed Amara some Floo Powder, and, rather nervous since it was her first time, Amara followed the others’ example and yelled ‘Diagon Alley’ into the warm flames before feeling herself fall through a dark tunnel, snatching glimpses of other people’s fireplaces and focusing on Diagon Alley.
In a cloud of ash, Amara arrived in the fireplace of a book shop where Mrs Burke was already telling a salesgirl what books she needed. Realising too late that she was blocking the fireplace, Amara felt something heavy push her forwards and she fell face first into a display of new books about witch beauty and health-care, knocking a few of them into the air before someone caught her wrist.
‘Oops, sorry Amara.’ She recognized Fred’s voice and muttered, ‘’s OK, my fault really,’ as a middle-aged wizard came out from a room behind the counter and saw the mess. He pursed his lips but said, ‘Never mind,’ and put the books back into place with a wave of his wand.
‘Hogwarts, aren’t you?’ he said, as George came out of the fireplace. He waved his wand again and books started stacking up of their own accord as Ron and Mrs Weasley appeared too.
‘You are going to Hogwarts, aren’t you?’ George asked Amara, peering at her. She folded her arms and said nonchalantly, ‘Nope. It’s no big—’
‘You can’t go to Durmstrang!’ hissed Fred.
‘Imagine how much you’ll miss, you just can’t—’ Ron started sympathetically.
‘Great job on rubbing that in, Ron,’ said Ginny, rolling her eyes.
‘Yeah, well, it’s not my fault. I’m not going to Hogwarts and that’s that,’ said Amara, rather tersely.
‘We didn’t mean—’ started George.
‘Just cut it, OK?’
Mrs Weasley and Mrs Burke had apparently finished their shopping at the book shop, and they motioned them outside, towards a quill shop across the street.
‘When are we getting the wands?’ Fred asked his mother.
‘All in good time, George,’ she replied, handing him a bag of books. ‘The important things first.’
‘I’m Fred...’
‘The wand’s more important,’ insisted the actual George, as she gave him a bag of books too.
‘You’ll do as I say, Fred,’ she told George.
They spent half an hour buying from several other shops in Diagon Alley. At Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions Amara awkwardly tried to avoid standing in view of the Weasleys as Madam Malkin pinned her Durmstrang uniform into place. Mrs Weasley appeared to be talking curiously with Mrs Burke and Amara had a strange feeling that she knew what they were talking about.
The Weasleys had to visit their vault in Gringotts after a while so Amara stayed with Mrs Burke under a bright umbrella at Florean Fortescue’s and ate a chocolate and strawberry sundae which tasted wonderfully cold in the warm August morning. When they still hadn’t come back, they went to the Magical Menagerie, a pet shop which sold from poisonous orange snails to clever rats, but Amara modestly bought a common black cat in contrast to the proud, hooting owls ruffling their feathers in their cages.
‘All ready?’ Mrs Weasley said five minutes later outside of Gringotts. ‘Right, last stop Ollivander’s.’
It was a small, quaint shop with thousands of boxes piled around the walls. A single spindly chair stood in a corner and upon their arrival, which was noisier than the usual tinkling of a bell as you enter a shop, Mr Ollivander emerged from a back room and greeted them in a low voice. He went on to describe every one of the wands they’d bought from him, and finally turned to Fred, George and Amara and three tape measures came out of nowhere and started measuring their arms, legs, and around their heads.
‘Now, your wand arm?’ he asked Fred, moving over to a pile of boxes and running his hands over them.
Amara looked curiously at the different wands he took out, and their reactions to whoever used them. At one point Fred set a whole stack of wands on fire, and George upended one wall of boxes. When it was finally Amara’s turn, he measured her right arm again and pulled out a long box, turning to her with perceptive eyes.
‘Try this,’ he said. ‘Fifteen and a half inches, phoenix and ash, swishy.’
Amara gingerly took the wand and waved it cautiously. It vibrated violently and a blob of green goo fell onto the floor. Ollivander took the wand hastily back and pointed his own wand at the blob, which disappeared.
‘No, no, definitely not an ash wand...’ he muttered, picking out another box. Amara grinned nervously at the others. George mouthed, ‘Nice wandwork,’ sarcastically and Amara made a mental note to hex him as soon as she’d gotten her wand and learnt a few spells.
‘Ten and a half inches, phoenix and yew, unyielding.’
Amara swished and waved the wand but it stubbornly did nothing. Ollivander took it back quickly and gave her another one. It went on like this for a few minutes, and Ollivander started to smile, muttering, ‘Tricky customers every year...’
Thirteen inches, dragon heartstring and blackthorn, quite bendy – blisters erupted on her arm... Ten and three quarters, unicorn and cherry, hard – a few boxes shot out from their places, until—
‘Twelve and three quarters, unicorn and hawthorn, unyielding.’ The wand immediately felt warm in her hands and a few colourful sparks shot out of it, vanishing in a cloud of mist. Amara looked up with a smile. They paid for their wands and finally left for Flourish and Blotts where the fireplace was.
‘Took you long enough,’ joked George, twirling his new wand around in his hands.
‘I swore to myself then and there,’ grinned Fred, brandishing his own wand like a sword, ‘if that was going to keep up for much longer, you might’ve had to buy a toy wand.’
‘Oh, shut up,’ said Amara, but she still smiled as they entered the book shop again. She felt like she had better enjoy these last few days of summer while it lasted, thinking that up North things would get pretty frosty.
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