The Years of Riddle

Chapter Twenty-Two | Diagon Alley August 1959

Chapter Twenty-Two

Diagon Alley, August 1959

Despite being married to a wizard, Gwyn had never set foot in a magic place. She had been to the homes of other witches and wizards, but never had she passed through the barriers very few Muggles had before.

"Come on, Ma." Silas was grinning, standing at the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. He was eleven now, and in a few weeks he would be going off to Hogwarts for the first time.

Anthony gave her shoulder a squeeze, and they walked through the door of the pub. For a place Gwyn had heard was famous, it was rather shabby. There was a bar and a number of tables in the shadows, with witches and wizards hunched over with various drinks and bowls of soup in front of them.

Silas knew exactly where he was going, and Gwyn followed her son and husband, holding a sleepy Violet's hand. She hadn't wanted to get up so early, but Gwyn knew she herself would lose energy by the afternoon. She wasn't going to miss this.

They went through a back door into a scrubby courtyard, where the chilly wind of late August caught them. Anthony raised his wand, tapping an assortment of bricks in an anti-clockwise pattern. Before their eyes, the bricks rearranged themselves into a large doorway.

"Ready?" Anthony smiled, excited as his son. Gwyn nodded, and stepped into the magical world.

It was breathtaking. Brighter and livelier than she had ever imagined, Diagon Alley was a bustle of activity. Shops sold glittering instruments, barrels of odd creatures, cauldrons precariously stacked, tottering piles of spell books – Gwyn could have cried.

Silas was already wandering down the street, studying his list of supplies. They already had extra scales, phials, a telescope and a cauldron at home, so he only needed to get his schoolbooks, robes, wand and a pet. Silas was very excited about the pet.

"What if I got a toad?" he'd teased (almost) six-year-old Violet.

"Mamma!" she had screeched, eyes wide, mouth gaping. "Sy says he's getting a toad. Tell him he can't!"

"Silas, love," Gwyn had not even looked up from her book. "Please don't get a toad."

They spent a sufficient amount of time in the bookshop, Gwyn double and triple checking that he had the right volume and version of each, the shopkeeper commenting that most Muggle parents weren't so thorough.

Gwyn wasn't sure if this was a compliment, but she blushed; it was quite obvious, since she had grown so pale – and she had always been very pale. "I worked in a university library," she offered in explanation.

Then there were robes to be measured for, protective gloves and a plain pointed hat that Violet thought was very funny. "You look like Papa," she giggled when Silas tried one on, and he flushed with pride. He wasn't often told that he looked like Anthony.

"Now, a wand!" Anthony was bursting with pride as they walked towards Ollivander's wand shop. Gwyn was very excited for this, as she had seen Tom's wand growing up. It had not been a very pretty wand, but it was the first she had ever seen, and she remembered it well.

A bell sounded as they opened the door, shuffling into the cramped shop. It was empty except for a spindly chair, and the walls were stuffed with slim boxes. It was rather dim and dusty; Violet grabbed Gwyn's hand, sniffling.

A man, in his early forties, strode into the room. He was short, but had enormous confidence, with an undertone of softness. Odd, silvery eyes peered out from thick, dark eyebrows that rose in surprise at the sight of Silas.