Order of the Sphinx... Why should HP get to have all the fun?

Chapter 4: Wands At the Ready

A/N: The following chapter contains dialogue and parts of text from Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone. All Rights go to J.K. I do not own this story/characters which belong to her, I only own a copy of Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland; Through the Looking Glass.

Chapter 4: Wands at the ready

“Olivander!” Hagrid exclaimed happily, walking over towards the man. “Thi’ is the group Dumbledor’ wrote to ya ‘bout.” He said with a smile shaking his hand enthusiastically. Olivander’s eyes lit up and he returned Hagrid’s handshake almost just as enthusiastically as Hagrid’s. Alice chuckled at them and her hand gave my arm a squeeze. I met Ivy’s gave and we exchanged a manic grin.

“Ah yes, I should have known…” he mumbled more to himself than others. His voice was soft, but possessed an odd sort of strength. “Yes, yes” he mumbled again. His eyes seemed to glaze over then and he began murmuring a soft verse. I had to listen very hard in order to catch it.

“… And so the tale begins,

never too thin nor thick,

to bring about wonders and joys,

with a mere swish and flick,

Fetched by a wise old man,

his helper leading the way,

a band of  half a dozen,

are shoved thus into the fray,

The troop is quietly led,

by a young woman who stands aside,

Long red locks and brilliant green eyes,

Her destiny and past she hides,

The fury of a dragon’s anger,

shall bring about a pillar of red hot blaze,

the same which scorches the heroine’s blood,

the last member of a long forgotten race…”

I looked at the man then, intently curious of him. He appeared to be just old, but the crow’s feet around his eyes suggested a hard life, further acknowledged by his weathered skin. His murky grey eyes held legions in their depths, showing a fathomless amount of wisdom. The corners of his lips were upturned in an almost half smile, but something about it seemed off. Forced almost. His hair looked almost like the brush of a broom, wiry and stiff. The colour was arbalester, hints of grey still lingering around his ears and sideburns.

He met my curious gaze levelly, seeming also to be sizing me up while I, him. He seemed to be curious about what he saw there, almost like he could catch a whiff of the Varias gene. My palms began to tingle then, heating up. I frowned looking down, seeing the air rippling around them, almost like a heat wave.

I quickly grabbed the bracelet, pressing it forcefully into the soft flesh around my wrist. It wasn’t working. Damn it. Perhaps it wasn’t as strong as the ring? I looked up with a frown, but it seemed that no one had noticed except for Olivander and me. His gaze was burning with something, alarm perhaps? But when my gaze registered, his face smoothed quickly into a careful poker face.

“Well” he said, clapping his hands together and bringing the others out of their awestruck trances.  They started, jolting back into awareness. Hagrid just smiled and reminded me of something a kin to the Santa from the children’s stories. “Shall we begin?” Olivander asked, his smile returning, but this time, nothing was forced; the mirth was true. Everyone nodded at the same time and were like bloodhounds on his heals as he retreated behind the oak counter.