(Rachel's POV)
So here I am, sitting in the living room after reading the letter that I received from Hogwarts. Dad has already sent my owl replying that I will be attending, even though I know he's just as concerned about me going as I am. Although he doesn't show it, I know he's nervous.
"Your rosary should work perfectly fine as long as you learn to keep your temper. It should help conceal your powers until you learn to control them by yourself." Father explained, his tone blunt.
Don't get me wrong. My dad is a very kind man. I love my dad, but that's the way he always is, he's a very serious man with an important job, and I wouldn't expect him to act any other way than the way he does.
"Yes, father, I will try my best to control myself," I replied softly.
Now you see, we come from a relatively wealthy family. We're technically purebloods. However, nobody other than my father knows that I am no longer entirely human. I'm a Vampire. I turned vampire anyway. Another vampire performed a ritual to bring me back from the dead after encountering a fatal accident. That would make me a half-blood, but what no one knew was that I was what you'd call a human-born pureblood. They're supposedly a very rare type of pureblood, born to a family of non-Vampires like mine. My saviour had no way of knowing that I was one. He was just as shocked as I was when I rose from the dead with glowing ruby eyes and pointed fangs similar to his own.
Because pureblood vampires are gifted with special powers, other vampires use them or marry into their families so that their offspring can inherit the abilities and benefit from the status. I was even told a legend that all pureblood lineages started with human-born vampires and slowly expanded into their own bloodlines. If that were true, I would develop my own unique ability that other purebloods didn't have because every blueblood had a signature ability linked to their family line. If two pureblood lines came together, the children would either inherit the maternal line's power or the paternal line's ability but never both. That explained why the brother's abilities were all over the place. Out of 6 boys, they had three different mothers. I believed their father was trying to mix his lines with as many other pureblood lines to see which of his children would inherit the most powerful ability.
"Good, now head upstairs and pack your bags."
My father said lovingly. At least he tried to sound loving. He kissed the top of my head, watching me head up the stairs to my room. I inwardly smiled because my father didn't display affection often, but it brought me so much joy when he did. I think he smiles at me more since he found out that I was 'special.' I skipped down the hall, humming a familiar tune. I passed my sister's room. Her door was slightly ajar, allowing me to get a view of her folding some clothes and packing them away in her trunk. This was my twin sister Ashley. Although we have identical features, such as our height, weight, facial features, and body structure, we're technically fraternal because we don't look alike. Ashley inherited our mother's blonde hair and green eyes, while I took after our father with raven black hair and icy blue eyes.
To be honest, I missed my sister. I know she'll be coming to Hogwarts with me, but I haven't been able to spend much time with her. Father keeps us separated a lot. He tells Ashley that I'm sickly when in reality, I'm struggling to keep my inner vampire hidden from her. Luckily, she was going on a trip with her friend's family to Italy, so I would have that time to myself. She'd be gone for roughly two weeks and hopefully be back before dad and I take a trip to Diagon Alley. Around this time, Father was placing the finishing charms on my rosary. It was a small bejewelled crucifix dangling from a leather choker, meant to serve as a barrier between myself and the blood-thirsty animal within me. At least, I hope it did.
Oh, and not that it matters, but I am the older twin. I'm also the naughty one and tend to be a little more open when meeting people, while Ashley is the shyer of the two, generally more focused on her studies. I'm the socialite like my mother, while Ashley is studious like my father. We both picked up his talent for potions and alchemy, though. Speaking of our mother, it's just too bad that she passed away when we were too young to remember her. Me and Ashley never really got to meet her. We were just babies.
A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. Our nurse maid Alicia walks in.
"Young miss? Your father asked me to help you pack your trunk if that's alright."
Of course, I'd accept her help. This woman practically raised me. There wasn't a moment that I can recall without her. My own mother couldn't be there as Ashley and I grew up, but Alicia was, and I appreciated that more than anything.
"I would love some help, actually," I said, offering her the biggest smile I could manage.
If you asked Alicia, I was always a sweet little girl, even when running around getting into trouble. I could never do wrong in her eyes. Just wait until she finds out what kind of monster I really am.
I find myself increasingly angered by the littlest thing. Even going as far as to wish harm on others. I remind myself to act calm and collected in public for my sake and others, but this is what I stayed in Japan for, to learn to control this. Ashley thinks I studied abroad, and I guess technically I did, but the real reason I stayed was because I couldn't control myself. At first, it was the bloodlust and then it was the anger. I thought I could deal with it or rather suppress it, but I only succeeded in overwhelming myself to the point where I had melted down, attacking another student at my school. Luckily for me, we attended a night school that was used to seeing its fair share of vampires, so the incident was written off.
So that's about it. I spent almost the rest of the night with Alicia helping me pack my bags for Hogwarts. In two weeks, I'd be going to Diagon Alley, hopefully after Ashley comes back, and then it's almost time to go to Hogwarts. This should be interesting.
*Two weeks later*
(Rachel's POV)
"Welcome home," I greeted, hugging my sister firmly. I caught a whiff of her sweet scent, sending a shiver down my spine. I quickly pulled away, passing my hand under my nose as if to brush the smell away, but it didn't have the desired effect. Ashley had just gotten back early this afternoon, and we were busy catching up. She was telling me stories about what she did in Italy, and it sounded like she had a lot of fun.
"Yes, oh my gosh, it's so beautiful there. Maybe dad will take us there sometime. You'd love it, Rachel."
Ashley raved. Her bubbly attitude never ceased to amaze me.
On the other hand, I was excited for a different reason because tomorrow, we'd be visiting Diagon alley to get all of our necessary school supplies for Hogwarts, and I couldn't wait.
*The next day*
I was awakened by Ashley shaking me, trying to get me to wake up.
"Come on, Rachel, get up. You have to get ready. We're going to leave soon." "Alright, alright, I'm up," I replied groggily, trying to wipe the sleep off my face.
I dragged myself to the bathroom getting in the shower to wash really quick. Once I had gotten out, I decided to get Ashley to help me put my hair in a French braid, brushing my bangs lightly to the side, sitting above my left eyebrow. I pulled out my favourite white jeans, a dark red blouse, pairing them with a Jean jacket and black ankle boots. I usually don't wear accessories except for the rosary.
I haven't touched makeup yet, unlike Ashley, who apparently needs mascara because her eyelashes are too light, whatever that means. "Alright, I'm done. Can we go?"
I asked my father as I descended downstairs. Ashley was already waiting for me. She was wearing a simple yellow sundress with a black waist belt and a pair of black flats. She had her golden hair down. Her bangs swept to the left same as mine.
"Yes, now come, girls," Father said as he extended both arms for us to grab. We latched onto his arms before we apparated. When you apparate, you get this feeling of your body being twisted and pulled. It was kind of nauseating at first, but finally, everything stopped spinning, and when my vision became clear, we were in Diagon Alley.
Once we got there, dad gave both Ashley and me some money to go off and get our supplies. Dad had some other business to attend to.
And just like that, Ashley had that big grin on her face again.
"So, where do you want to go first, Sis? Do you want to get our wands, our robes, our books or maybe the pet store?" Ashley asked eagerly, obviously wanting to get going already.
I laughed at her enthusiasm, grabbed her hand and started pulling her towards the robes shop.
Somehow it was taking Ashley longer for her to get her robes than it did for me, so I waited for her outside the shop, but while I was waiting, I was approached by a boy. He was pretty good-looking and looked about my age. He had platinum blonde hair and sparkling Grey eyes. I quickly averted my gaze, hoping he wouldn't notice me staring and just continue walking by. Now that I think about it, it was pretty naïve of me to think, seeing as, if I was a boy and I saw a beautiful young girl standing outside of a shop all on her own, I would approach me too. Then again, I liked pretty things.
And as I turned my head to look at the boy again, my suspicions were correct. He was already standing in front of me and a little too close for comfort.
"I haven't seen you before. What's your name?"
The boy demanded. His tone was authoritative, as if he held status. He must be pureblood. Platinum blonde hair, huh? A Malfoy, maybe?
"Uhm, Rachel Church. This is my first time at Diagon Alley. We don't live near London, so my sister and I don't frequent here." I explained. The boy nodded, humming in thought. I don't know how, but I somehow found this boy's attitude charming. "A sister? I hope she's just as pretty as you," he replied smoothly, a broad grin on his face. Oh yes, he was definitely charming. I made to reply, but before I could, I noticed Ashley walking out of the robes shop.
Thank God she was finished. I quickly waved at her, getting her attention. She waved back, instantly noticing the boy in front of me, raising one of her eyebrows with an amused look as if to say, "Who's this?" I want to shrug or shake my head, but she knows well enough that I have long since had friends in England. "Oh hey, Rachel, who's your friend?" Goddammit, I knew it.
"O-oh u-um, this is....." I stuttered, realizing that I never actually got the boy's name, but before I could ask, he cut in. "Malfoy, Draco Malfoy," He said, extending a hand to my sister for her to shake, which she gladly did, being the polite girl she is. "Ashley church, the twin." She introduced nonchalantly, gesturing towards me. Draco's face lit up after hearing the word twin. He seemed to be quite interested and a little shocked. "So you two are twins? That's interesting. Which of you is the evil twin?" He joked, shifting his gaze between Ashley and me. "That would be me," I said nonchalantly. He honestly wasn't wrong to assume that. "So, will you two also be attending Hogwarts this year?" He wondered, eyeing the school robes we were holding. I take it that means he's also attending Hogwarts. "Oh, so you're attending Hogwarts as well?" Ashley asked, using that sweet tone of hers. "Why yes, I am," He replied with a smile that could only be meant to show off his perfect teeth. "What house are you hoping for?" My sister asked curiously. "There's no doubt I'll be in Slytherin," Draco said, not even bothering to try and hide how cocky he sounded. It occurred to me that if he were certain he would be in Slytherin, it must mean his family had a history in that house.
"Oh, I'm not quite sure what house I'll be in, maybe Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. What about you, Rachel?" My sister would absolutely be in Hufflepuff. It's a fact she's smart, but she's way too kind, the sweetness is her best attribute. "I don't know, maybe Gryffindor or Slytherin, I don't know," I admitted, not quite sure what house I would fit into. "I think you'd make a great Slytherin. We'd be great friends," he said, giving me a wink that only I noticed. "Wouldn't that would be nice? Already knowing someone in your house, Rach," my sister asked more like stated with a warm smile. "Yes, I guess it would, but as much as I'd like to stay and chat, we have more things to get before we meet up with our father. Until next time," I said, hinting that we had to go. With that, Draco reached for my sister's hand gently and placed a kiss on the back of it, and did the same thing to me right after, before saying, "I guess I'll be seeing you two lovely ladies at Hogwarts" He slipped me another flirtatious wink before turning around and stalking off to which the way he came.
I turned around, waiting for my sister's snarky reaction, coming face-to-face with her playful smirk. God, I hated it when she gave me that look. "WHAT!" I shot, glaring at her. "Nothing, he was cute, that's all I'm saying," she continued with that smirk on her face. "Yeah, whatever," I huffed, crossing my arms over my chest, sticking my bottom lip out with a pout. "Alright, drama queen, let's go get our books," she said, grabbing my arm and dragging me behind her heading towards Flourish & Blotts, which coincidentally was right next to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, which is the shop we had just left. I'll spare the details of us getting our books and had placed them into the infinity bag that Dad equipped us with before arriving. Well, they're not actually infinite, but I'll tell you that they hold a lot more than a regular bag. We then went to Slug and Jiggers Apothecary to buy our cauldrons and potion supplies, followed by Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment to buy a telescope. And after a short discussion with Ashley, we concluded that an Owl would be more beneficial than a cat, so we made our way to Eyelops Owl Emporium.
We entered the shop and immediately the plenty of owls on display. I was particularly looking for a well-tempered bird, something eye-catching too. Passing by a couple of barn owls, I caught a glimpse of two identical owls sitting side-by-side in a larger cage. I thought they were magnificent. They looked about 1.5 Kg in weight, both with these scruffy-looking tufts coming out the side of their ears. Their upper body consisted of varying shades of brown, while the underparts were buffy and white, with wavy dark brown streaks and finer brown barring. Their irises were golden yellow, feet a dull yellow and their bills dark. They were gorgeous and very mellow compared to the other noisy birds.
I turned around, hoping to grab Ashley's attention to show her the birds, but when I did, I abruptly ran into something hard, like a wall. I stumbled back a bit, a little stunned at that moment. I quickly shook it off once I heard someone speak, "Sorry bout that, lass, didn't mean to run into you there." I looked up to see a huge—and I mean huge—man with scruffy Black hair and an unkempt beard standing before me, or should I say towering above me.
I swear he must be part giant or something. "U-uh no, I'm s-sorry I wasn't w-watching where I was going," I stuttered nervously. Why was I nervous? I'm never usually this tense. Was it because he was so big and intimidating, or was it because I was embarrassed that I ran into him?
"Don't you worry bout that. I saw yer looking at some owls there. Looks like Brown fish owls, a good choice if I do say so myself," he boomed in a cheerful tone. "Well, if you don't mind me asking, who exactly is myself?"
"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to be rude. The name's Rubeus Hagrid, gatekeeper and keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts." I figured it would only be polite if I introduced myself as well, so I did. "It's nice to meet you, Rubeus. My name is Rachel Church, and that over there...." I said, pointing in Ashley's direction, "....is my sister Ashley" "Nice to meet you, Rachel, but please call me Hagrid."
At this point, Ashley had already noticed that I was talking to somebody, so she stalked over to where we were standing, probably trying to listen to our conversation because she was so nosy. "Would love to stay and chat, but I got to get this girl here...." He said, holding up an owl cage with a snowy white owl inside. "....back to young Harry. Good day, girls," he said, turning and walking out of the emporium. Ashley gave me another look similar to the look she gave me earlier today, but this one wasn't a flirty smirk. This one was more confused, as if to say, who is that? "His name is Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts," I simply answered, anticipating her question. She nodded in understanding, not questioning any further. "So anyway, what about these?" I said, pointing to the birds that Hagrid referred to as; Brown Fish Owls.
Ashley gasped slightly, nodding her head furiously. I'll take that as a 'Yes.' I politely asked the shopkeeper if we could buy the owls. He agreed, of course. So we purchased the owls, but not before the keeper informed us that both owls were boys hatched from the same nest. He explained that they liked to keep each other company, so they stayed in the same cage. That's probably why they look alike.
Ashley named her owl Timber. She was always so enthusiastic about simple things, such as naming cute creatures that we stumbled upon. I, on the other hand, had to put in some thought on my owl's name. It had to be a proper name for a bird of prey such as him.
Eventually, I did think of one and settled on the name 'Castiel.' So after putting Timber and Castiel in separate cages, we bid the shopkeeper farewell, informing them that we'd be back to pick up the birds once we'd finished our shopping.
Our final destination was none other than the famous Ollivander's wand shop. After shuffling through crowds of witches and wizards also shopping in Diagon alley, we came upon a narrow and shabby-looking building. Above the door was a sign that read, "Ollivanders, making wands since 382 BC," in peeling gold letters.
Ashley and I spared each other a look. Hers clearly more excited than my own. I was happy to be purchasing my first wand, but I had to admit the shop before me was a bit underwhelming. How was there no better wand maker in all of London?
Despite my apprehension, I'm first to step foot in the dusty old shop, Ashley following closely at my heel. The place feels more cramped than it really is. The inside is lined by walls and walls of shelves, piled high with boxes upon boxes of what I presumed to be wands. Thankfully, the place was relatively empty. Relatively being the keyword in that sentence. Other than the shopkeeper himself, there was but one person in the store. A Familiar figure.
No sooner than we had entered the shop did we hear, "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter." I identify the pale-eyed, white-haired shopkeeper as Mr. Ollivander. He was speaking to a boy about our age.
"Good day, Mr. Ollivander," Ashley and I chorus simultaneously, using the sweet tone we had practiced time and time again on father's colleagues.
At that same moment, the young boy turns to face us, must've not having heard us come in. His eyes widen when he sees us. Ashley gives him a warm smile while my focus stays on the wand currently in his hand. The boy has messy black hair and curious green eyes that reflect off the thin rims of his glasses.
My gaze flickers up to meet his. He seems to quickly realize that he's been caught staring and averts his gaze, a noticeable blush staining his cheeks. I flash him a practiced smile which only proves to make him more flushed.
"I was wondering when I'd be seeing you girls," Ollivander says, catching Ashley and I's attention. The two of us quickly share a confused look. He knew we were coming? I had to admit, I myself never really understood the nature of premonitions and foresight—being able to see into the future and all. It sounded like a load of toadstool to me, but father always told us magic was a funny thing. We should never underestimate it.
Eyeing Ashley, he muses, "You look so much like your dear mother."
His words hold a sense of fondness to them. It's a tone I've learned people only use around us to express pity for our mother's passing. I hated that tone.
'It's belittling,' I think bitterly.
Ollivander turns his attention to me with a smile. "And I see you take after your father."
It was a simple statement that was meant to point out my dark hair. A feature that I clearly shared with my father, who was well-known in the wizarding community. It was just that. A statement. So why did I take it so sourly? Why did Ashley get complimented for her likeness to my mother, a woman known well for her beauty and kindness? Meanwhile, all I get is, "You look like your dad." It was obviously meant to be taken as an insult.
Ashley, who was not nearly as perceptive as I was, was about to ask how Mr. Ollivander knew who we were when we were interrupted by knocking on the glass. "Harry, happy birthday." A booming voice belts from outside.
The lot of us turn to look out the window only to find a half-giant standing about waving a cage in front of him. It was Hagrid, that burly man Ashley and I had run into before, and he was holding that snowy owl that he'd bought. It dawned on me that the bird was meant as a gift for the boy standing before me.
Hagrid beams, "Well, hello again, Rachel." He nods his head. "Ashley."
Smiling, Ashley returns a polite wave. "Hello, Hagrid." I simply nod, muttering a soft "Good day." In response.
Huffing out a deep breath, Hagrid waves to the young boy, "Well, come on then, Harry. We best be going." With that, the two of them. The young boy Harry leaving with a grateful nod towards Mr. Ollivander and a glance in my direction that I could only describe as...longing.
A loud clap startles Ashley, causing her to jump slightly and getting both of our attention as Ollivander spoke. "Now..." The older man shuffles about the dusty room, fiddling with the lapel on his dark suit. "I assume you girls are here for your first wands," he croaks, muttering the word 'splendid' to himself multiple times as he disappears behind a shelf.
The shuffling of his feet pauses for a moment, and Ashley and I are left in silence. I'm tempted to make a cynical joke about the man's erraticness, but Ashley is one step ahead of me, giving me a warning look. One that says she'll tell father if I don't behave. I click my tongue in displeasure, but give in, rolling my eyes at her.
It takes forever for Mr. Ollivander to finally appear back around the corner, but when he does, I can't help but let out a sigh of relief, thinking, 'finally.'
Again he claps. "Excellent! Let's get started, shall we?" he says, squeezing his way around the shop counter, shuffling in front of us—a measuring tape draped lazily around his shoulders. I eye the thing wondering what he could possibly need with that.
Ollivander approaches me first. He shocks me by grabbing my hand, and with a tug, he measures the length of my forearm. Just when I think I can't get weirder, he measures the diameter of my head. My head! And then my shoe size. I didn't want to question his methods. I mean, what did I know about wand-making? Not nearly as much as him. He was the expert . . . at least, I think.
After what felt like hours of being poked and prodded, Ollivander turns and waddles over to a shelf. His eyes scanning from top to bottom before landing on one in particular. "Perhaps this one, " he says, shimmying the lid off the box and carefully extracting the wand. He hands it to me as he explains, "11 inches, Oak, and unicorn hair."
I waved the wand in a circular motion, resulting in a barrage of papers to explode off of his desk, igniting instantly. Ashley and I simultaneously flinch in surprise. The older man reflexively pulls out his own wand, "Aguamenti!"
A jet of water shoots out of his wand, instantly soaking his desk and extinguishing the papers. A sigh passes the wandmaker's lips as he spares the mess a tiresome look. Gritting my teeth, I regretfully offer the wand back. Ollivander snatches it quickly, "That's definitely not the one." Eyeing a nearby shelf, the elderly wizard stoops down, plucking a dusty navy box off the bottom shelf. Opening it, he hums, "Yes, let's try this one."
Similarly, Mr. Ollivander scoops out the wand, handing it off to me. "10 and a half inches, poplar wood and phoenix feather core," he states, watching as I flick the wand towards a shelf, albeit more gently than last time.
It didn't seem to matter, however, for 30 or more boxes aggressively flew off the shelves, hitting the bookcases behind us. The three of us were lucky enough to avoid being hit by any. Sheepishly, I looked up at Mr. Ollivander, handing him the wand. "I . . . don't think that one either." The wizard shakes his head. Using his wand once more, he flicks his wrist, sending all of the boxes back to their shelves.
Ollivander hums, deep in thought, as he disappeared to pull a few more wands from the back of the shop. I was starting to get the feeling that I was one of his more difficult customers. What if he couldn't find me a wand? What would I do then?
I give Ashley an apologetic look. This whole time she's just been next to me, patiently waiting for her turn. Another reason I hoped that I could just find my wand. Any wand that didn't make things blow up would do at this point.
My eyes scanned the shelves, noting the different colour boxes and how old some of them seemed to be, some of them even starting to fall apart. I wondered if these wands would ever find wizards to wield them.
As my eye wanders, one box in particular catches my gaze. There's nothing terribly special about the box, but it just . . . stands out. The box is black, roughly the same size as the others that Ollivander pulled out, but this one . . . I don't know.
"Mr. Ollivander!" I call curiously. I'm met with the sound of things falling to the ground in a series of loud thuds. Ollivander pokes his head out from behind a shelf in the back. "Yes, dear?"
I point to the ebony box on the top shelf, hovering just out of reach above Ollivanders desk. "I'd like to try this one," I say calmly. The old wizard comes out from behind the shelf; arms stuffed full of boxes. He trudges over, stopping only to drop the boxes on his desk. "Which one, dear?"
I point, and it only takes a moment for Ollivander to follow my finger up to the box in question. He eyes it and says, "Oh . . . Well certainly. You have a keen eye Miss Church." With a flick of his wrist, a wooden stool scrapes from one end of the shop until it slams against the bottom of the shelf, a bit ungracefully, might I add.
Ollivander maneuvers himself on top of the small stool, grunting as he reaches up for the item I requested. Pilling it off the shelf, he tugs off the lid, tucking it under the bottom and peering into the box. "I can't believe my eyes. 11.5 inch, Silver lime, can you believe it and with a Dragon heartstring core. I'm absolutely astonished." The man boasts.
The looks of confusion on my sister and I's faces must've given us away because Ollivander explained, "Silver Lime is a highly sought-after wand wood. It was extremely popular in the 19th century to the point that demand outweighed supply. It is considered a desirable wand wood for Seers and those skilled in Legilimency. I just can't believe I still have one in stock."
Elated by the information, Mr. Ollivander hands me the wand. When he presents it to me, I'm a bit more than nervous to try it. I'm at first stunned by its beauty—I didn't know a piece of wood could even be described as 'beautiful,' let alone actually be beautiful. When he hands it to me, I reluctantly stand there, unmoving for fear that the wand may once again 'blow up in my face.' I just didn't want to be met with disappointment again.
"Well, give it a go," Ollivander encourages, eyeing me expectantly.
I wave the wand, expecting a wave of destruction to ensue but am pleasantly surprised by the flecks of golden light that twinkle about the room, the tip of my wand emitting a similarly warm golden glow.
"Spectacular!" Ollivander cheers, clapping his hands together. He gives me a side eye, waggling a finger in my direction. "You have a bright future, Miss Church. Yes, you are certainly your father's daughter."
'Finally, an actual compliment,' I smirk proudly. "Now, let's see what we have for your sister. Right this way, Miss Church," Ollivander muses, ushering Ashley over to his desk. He once again picks up the measuring tape, but I tune out his mutterings as I focus my attention on the wand in my hand. Running my fingers over the subtle engravings.
Silver lime was a light-coloured wood, certainly not silver, as its name suggests, but still enchanting, nonetheless. The swirls in the wood handle were stained a dark oak colour, which only proved to enhance the wand's beauty. It was stiff in make, not flexible like some wands, but certainly not stocky like others.
"Ahah! Wonderful, wonderful," I hear the older wizard boast. Looking up, I find my sister holding a red-wood wand, a gentle gust of wind flowing through her golden locks. "11.5 inches, Cherry, Phoenix feather core," Ollivander recites happily.
Ashley beams happily, twisting her newly acquired wand between her nimble fingers. Holding it up, she says, "Isn't it lovely?" Not being able to resist my twin's contagious smile, I beam, "It's stunning."
I placed a sack full of galleons on Mr. Ollivander's desk, wishing him well. We exit the shop, returning to the bustling streets of Diagon Alley. We make our way back to the Magical Menagerie to retrieved our owls.
Ashley spotted an Ice-cream parlour as we approached the market square. She begged me to stop for Ice cream, but I warned her that father would be looking for us. She pouted and reluctantly agreed, sparing one last glance at the tasty frozen treats.
When we finally made it to where we were to meet, sure enough, there he was, standing there with two ice cream's in hand, waiting for us. Ashley practically ran to him, fumbling her owl cage as she greedily exchanged it for the frozen dessert. I more calmly walked up to him, giving him an awkward side hug. He offered to take Castiel's cage, offering me an ice cream that I happily accepted.
He was a man of few words, but I wouldn't trade him for the world. Our father looked over our things as we finished our treats. Satisfied with our school supplies, he offered us each an arm, before apparating us home. Gryffindor