Chapter Text
Hey everyone!
I apologize but this story is going to be on hold for a bit. As much as I love this story and how I was writting it, I feel like it needs a revamp. This story hasn't gotten as many hits or likes as my other Harry Potter story which makes me sad. I'll try and rearrange it so that, hopefully, more people will like and want to read more. Please be patient and I promise I'll try and get more up as soon as I am satisfied. I'll leave my original six chapters up though for now so everyone has a small sense of want I am trying to write.
Sincerly,
Luna Cadenza
P.S I am open to suggestions and ideas.
Chapter One: A Trip to Diagon Alley
August 23rd, 1994, Diagon Alley 12:30pm
“Come on girls, let's get your wands,” said a tall woman, her dark hair pulled back into a chignon, as she walked down the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley dressed to the nines in Auror robes. Another, slightly shorter woman with blonde hair that ran down her back in a fishtail braid, walked beside her also dressed in Auror robes. Both women held parcels containing books and other various school supplies.
Trailing behind the two women were two teenage girls about the age of fourteen. They had their arms linked together and were giggling as they stepped on the cobble streets without trying to step on the cracks. One of the girls had long black hair and was wearing an emerald green robe over a black corset bodice lace dress that stopped about mid-thigh and a pair of knee-high black velvet boots with ribbon laces up the front. The second girl had dark golden blonde hair and was wearing a pale pink robe overtop a white floral sundress and a pair of heeled white Mary janes with a bow across the top of her foot and a strap around the ankle.
“It’s still not fair that Ilvermorny wouldn’t let us take our wands with us,” pouted the blonde girl, not looking up from the street. “I highly doubt British wands have Thunderbird tail feathers in them.”
The tall brunette woman looked over her shoulder at the girl. “Not often but they do have phoenix feathered ones,” she said as she stopped outside of Ollivanders wand shop.
“Yeah, but now, we have to get used to completely new wands,” said the young brunette as she looked up at her mother. The girls came to a stop as well.
“Don’t worry my flower,” replied her mother as she reached out and stroked a hand down her daughter’s cheek, “you’ll get used to it in no time.”
The blond woman chuckled at the girls as they looked at each other, clearly irritated with the situation. She knew the girls were excited to start a new school but had been extremely disappointed when Ilvermorny wouldn’t let them take their wands outside of the school. “Now girls, perk up,” she said with a smile. “We knew things were going to be a bit different when we moved here but at least here in Britain you don’t have to hand your wands over at the end of the school year.” Unlike their brunette counterparts, the two blondes had no British accents.
The younger blonde shrugged her shoulders at her mother. “That is a plus, I guess,” she said.
Her mother smiled and pushed her daughter towards the door. “You girls go on in and we’ll be waiting outside.”
With sighs the teenagers entered the shop, a bell rang somewhere in the back signaling their entrance. A soft raspy voice called from the back of the store. “Be right with you,” it said. A minute later an old man with silver eyes and white skin ambled up to the girls. His white hair was frizzy and unkempt which reminded the blonde so much of Albert Einstein. “Hello ladies, what can I do for you today?” he asked.
“We’re new students to Hogwarts and we are in need of wands,” said the brunette. The blonde had turned her attention to the shop as her eyes darted about.
“New students?” asked Mr. Ollivander as he eyed them. “Bit old to be new students at Hogwarts, aren’t you?”
“We’re transfers,” said the brunette, “from Ilvermorny.”
“Ah I see,” said Mr. Ollivander. “Ilvermorny, if I remember correctly, don’t allow their students to take their wands out of the school unless they have graduated, correct?”
The blonde finally turned her eyes away from the many boxes of wands on the walls to look at Mr. Ollivander. “That’s correct,” she said. “My previous wand had a Thunderbird tail feather.”
Mr. Ollivander smiled at her as he walked closer to the counter. “Thunderbird tail feathers, sensitive to supernatural danger and will preemptively fire curses should they feel their owners are in danger,” he said. “Great for transfiguration, weather, and protection spells.” Mr. Ollivander then looked at the brunette as if waiting for her to tell him her previous wand core.
To satisfy the old man’s curiosity the brunette told him. “My wand core had been a dragon feather,” she said.
Mr. Ollivander smiled at her. “Dragon feathers,” he said, “not as powerful as a dragon heartstring and produces spells with unusually saturated colors. Apart from those differences a dragon feather has the same properties as a dragon heartstring.” The old man smiled at them with a twinkle in his eye then clapped his hands together. “Now then, time for some new wands, eh?” He pulled out a measuring tape and it began taking measurements of the girls on its own.
Mr. Ollivander went around the store and collected several boxes then brought them back to the counter. With a snap of his fingers the measuring tape stopped and floated back into his pocket. He divided the wands into two piles and waved the girls over. “Why don’t we start with you,” he said and pointed to the brunette. “What is your name by the way young lady?”
The brunette smiled at him. “My name is Flavia Black, sir,” she said.
Mr. Ollivander gave her a wide stare. “Black did you say?” he asked. “There is a Black family here in Britain, old and ancient dating back to the Middle Ages. They are the largest, oldest, and wealthiest of all the pureblood families and part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Dare I say you could be related?” The old man quirked a white eyebrow as he looked at her.
Flavia looked back at him with her head held high. “If we’re thinking of the same family then I would say yes though I have never met anyone from the Black family apart from my mother,” she said.
Mr. Ollivander nodded to her. “I see and I don’t suppose you’ll tell me your father’s name?” he asked. Flavia shook her head in the negative. “Didn’t think so. Anyway, let’s get to the wands shall we.” He picked up the first box and pulled out its wand. “Aspen and phoenix feather, eleven and a quarter inch and rather pliable.” He handed her the wand.
Flavia took the wand and held it in her hand. After a few seconds the wand grew hot and the girl hissed, dropping it on the floor as she jerked her hand away.
“Certainly not that one,” muttered Mr. Ollivander as he waved his wand and summoned the fallen wand back into its box. He opened another box. “Here we are, pine and dragon heartstring, twelve and a half inches, sturdy.” He handed Flavia the wand. As soon as her fingers grazed the wood of the wand there was a loud bang and black smoke erupted out of the tip. Mr. Ollivander snatched it back quickly before she could even hold it. “Nope, definitely not.” The girls coughed and waved their hands in front of their faces to rid themselves of the smoke.
They tried two more wands, each ending in negative results before Mr. Ollivander opened the last box in the first pile and pulled out the wand. “Let’s give this one a try, hm?” he said. “Laurel wood, dragon heartstring, twelve and three quarters inches. Nice and sturdy.” He handed the wand to Flavia.
Flavia hesitated for a second before taking a hold of the wand. A gold light glowed from its tip before dimming and a warm, comforting sensation spread through the girl’s body.
The old man smiled at her. “There we go,” he said. “A fine wand for a fine young lady, one who must be honorable and a fast learner to have laurel and dragon heartstring and much more powerful than dragon feathers.” He chuckled at his own joke and Flavia gave him a proud smile before he then turned to the blonde girl. “And your name my dear?”
The girl smiled at him. “Angel Hart,” she said. “Born and raised in the United States. I think my dad’s side of the family is European but who they were I don’t know.” She gave a small shrug.
Mr. Ollivander chuckled at her. “Pleasure to meet you dear,” he said and opened the first box in her pile. “Let’s see here, hazel and dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inch, firm with some flexibility.” He handed the wand to Angel.
Angel took it in her hand. There was a loud popping sound to her left that made her jump and let out a shrill squeak as a vase on a nearby side table popped like a balloon.
Mr. Ollivander snatched the wand out of her hand. “Let’s try another,” he said as he opened the second box. “Dogwood, unicorn hair, twelve inches, and moderately bendy.” He handed the wand over.
Again, Angel took ahold of the wand and looked at it. The wand made a farting noise as if someone sat on a whoopie cushion as confetti spouted from the tip, landing in Angel’s neatly arranged waterfall braids. The girl wrinkled her nose and began pulling the confetti out of her hair as Mr. Ollivander took the wand from her. Flavia looked at her friend and did her best to suppress her laughter though it still managed to escape in a snort.
“Dogwoods are tricky wands and like practical jokers,” said Mr. Ollivander as he opened Angel’s third box. “Here we are. Spruce, phoenix feather, eleven- and three-quarter inches, and quite bendy.” He held the wand out to Angel.
Angel brushed off the last of the confetti and gently took the wand from him. In an instant red sparks shot out of the wand and a soft warm breeze settled into her skin. Angel looked at the wand with a smile on her face.
“Ah, another perfect match,” said Mr. Ollivander. “You must be a brave one with a steady hand for a spruce wand to take a liking to you especially when combined with a phoenix feather.” The old man collected the rejected wands, placing them back on their shelves. He then took the girls’ wands from them, placed them back in their boxes, and wrapped them up neatly, each with a silk ribbon the same color as their robes.
Mr. Ollivander handed the boxes to the girls who took them gratefully. “That will be seven galleons each, ladies,” he said. The girls rummaged in their purses and pulled out the proper coin and placed them in Ollivander’s outstretched hand. “I do hope you both enjoy your time at Hogwarts, tis the best magic school in all of Europe.” The girls thanked him and left the shop, each holding onto their boxes.
Their mothers turned and smiled at them as they exited the store. “How’d it go girls?” asked Mrs. Black. Flavia held up her box and told her mother what kind of wand she got, and Angel did the same. “Excellent girls. Now, how about we have some lunch before we head home?”
“But there are so many shops we haven’t been in yet,” retorted Flavia, a slight whine in her voice.
Mrs. Black smiled at her daughter. “There is still over a week before school starts so we can make another trip to Diagon Alley.” Flavia let out a huff.
Angel turned to her mother, her eyes wide with a pleading look. “Can we go to Magical Menagerie before lunch, please?”
Mrs. Hart raised an eyebrow at her daughter. “You don’t need any more animals, you've got plenty already,” she said. “Plus, I just got you a new creature this summer.”
“Oh, come on Mom,” whined Angel with hunched shoulders and head tossed back a little. “I just want to look at them plus I also need to pick up supplies and food for said new creature.”
Flavia looked at Angel with a slight smirk. “Don’t forget about that bookshop we passed earlier either,” she reminded her friend
Angel gasped and looked at her. “Of course,” she said, then turned her eyes back to her mother. “Obscurus Books has the newest field journal by Newt Scamander. Please can we go?” Scamander’s newest book wasn’t the only reason the girls wanted to go to the bookshop. Flavia had seen some interesting titles she wanted to check out and getting Angel to plead to their mothers was the best way of ensuring they could go. The two older women couldn’t resist the girl’s pout which seemed to have its own kind of magic against their parents.
Mrs. Hart let out a deep sigh as she looked at her partner. Mrs. Black simply smiled and nodded. Mrs. Hart rolled her eyes. “Alright,” she sighed exasperated. “Meet us at the Leaky Cauldron in one hour, understand?”
“Yes Ma’am,” said the girls together, as they stood ramrod straight and saluted her.
Mrs. Hart raised her eyes to the sky and shook her head a little at their antics. She then looks back down at them and points a finger at her daughter. “And I mean it Angel,” she said, “no more creatures. It was difficult enough to get the deputy headmistress to sign off on what you have now. Supplies only.”
Angel slumped her shoulders. “Fine,” she grumbled.
With quick goodbyes the girls set off down the alley while their mothers turned and headed for the pub. They first stopped by Magical Menagerie to stock up on the food and supplies that Angel needed. More than once Flavia had to steer her best friend away from the animals and creatures and remind her what they came for.
“Spoil sport,” grumbled Angel.
Once they made their purchases, they exited the shop and continued on to Obscurus Books. Just as they reached the shop an older man pushed past Flavia as she entered. Angel however wasn’t so lucky as the man hit her at full speed causing her to stumble on the doorstep and into another body as she lost her balance. A hand shot out and caught her around the waist preventing her from hitting the hard cobblestone road.
Blinking rapidly, Angel looked up at her savior. It was a boy not much older than herself with slicked back platinum blond hair and silver-gray eyes that reminded her of an oncoming storm. Clearing her throat, she got a firm footing on the ground and stepped out of the boy’s arms. “S-sorry about that,” she stuttered and straightened out her clothes.
The boy looked at her. “Not your fault,” he said and gestured to the man who was now hurriedly making his way down the alley. “Are you alright?” the boy asked as he turned his silver eyes back to her.
Angel nodded quickly. “Yeah thanks,” she said and took a step back. “Um… nice catch by the way but, uh, I gotta go. Bye!” She gave him a quick smile and a wave, her cheeks warm with embarrassment as she hurried after Flavia into the store.
The boy, one Draco Malfoy, stood outside the shop and watched as the girl made her way in and disappeared into the crowd. He couldn’t help but be drawn to her eyes when he first saw them, turquoise and gold. They were unlike any he had ever seen. His whole body vibrated with energy as he stared into the shop, trying to see if he could catch another glimpse of her amongst the crowd. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling; in fact, it made him more curious about the blonde girl with the strange accent. He was about to step into the shop to follow when his mother came out of Twilfitt and Tattings.
“Come along Draco,” called Narcissa Malfoy. “Time to go or we’ll be late for lunch with the Greengrass’.”
Draco resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he turned from Obscurus Books and straightened out his robes. “Yes Mother,” he drawled. He followed his mother up the alley, only once did he look back at the shop that held the mysterious girl.