Evergreen

The evergreens found themselves looking out at Diagon Alley, and wondering where to start.

Thanks to her new Gringotts bank account, and a generous donation from Hogwarts for muggleborn students, they now had the money to shop themselves silly. Lenore was pretty sure the donation was supposed to be incentive for her to go to Hogwarts, since she was also pretty sure McGonagall knew she was adopted and thus technically not a muggleborn.

Her Mom, being the Girlboss that she is, took charge.

“Okay then, according to the list we’ll need some books, a wand, a cauldron, robes, brass scales, and a telescope?”

“Yes. Ms. Lenore will actually also need potion supplies and an owl would be recommended.” McGonagall had taken out her own copy of the list, a floathing quill was hanging next to it. Lenore was more fascinated by the quill than what she was supposed to do next.

“We should probably divide the work. I could take Lenore to the bookshop?”

“Maybe i could take her instead ? You and the professor could do the telescope instead.” Her father tried to cut in. He was very eager to snuffle around in a magical bookshop, and it showed. He wasn’t exactly subtle with his excitement. He was after all a Nerd, and this was a Magic Bookstore, every Nerds wet dream.

Lenore was starting to get a little excited herself. She couldn’t deny that this was pretty cool, even if she’d never tell anyone out loud. The quill was now writing down notes on who would go where. It also kept crossing it’s work out as the conversation progressed. This didn't seem to be a very efficient system, the quill certainly seemed frustrated.

“It would be best to do the bookshop last actually,” The professor informed them. “the first thing we will need is a proper trunk for ms. Lenore”

“We’ve got trunks at home”

“Yes, your Muggle trunks. Ms. Lenore can hardly be expected to carry all her equipment in those! She’d need four trunks for clothes alone.”

Four trunks? For clothes only? How many clothes did this woman expect her to have?

The quill had apparently decided on the Optimal Shopping Division. It poked the professor with its sharp end. She produced a pair of teeny tiny reading glasses from a back pocket and read over the list.
“Yes this will work fine. Mr. And ms. Evergreen, i suggest we first go to Felicia’s Fantastic Furniture for a proper trunk, after which we bring ms. Lenore to Madam Malkin’s for her robes. In the meantime we can stop by the apothecary and Astorius Astronomium for a telescoping set. Then we’ll pick her up and go to Flourish & Blotts.”

They agreed to the arrangement. Her dad mostly because it meant he could look around the alley. Her mom because it meant she could continue to bug McGonagall with her relentless questions, something mcGonagall was slowly realising was not a good thing. Lenore was once again more focused on the quill, that somehow seemed proud of itself? Her priorities, as usual, were probably not in the right direction. Surely this would not have consequences.

Felicia’s Fantastic Furniture was, in a word, crowded. Not with people mind you. Instead of people there was furniture literally everywhere. Tables were stacked on top of each other to make long isles, the tops of these tables displayed a wide variety of trinkets. She could spot several enchanted mirrors that kept telling her to brush her hair. Rude. A few jewelry boxes snapped at her, guarding their treasures viciously. From the ceiling hung about a hundred different lamps with odd shapes, one of them was a dolphin that shimmered like the sun on the ocean floor. The walls were covered in tapestry’s and portraits. All in all it reminded Lenore of an antique store, but with more magic. She’d always loved antique stores, one never knew what they would find inside them.

At the very back of the store a wiry man with hair like a porcupine was counting stock. This was clearly not going well since he kept muttering to himself about everything being at the wrong place. Lenore felt a little sorry for him, it must be pretty hard to keep track of this absolute mess.

“Felicia! How have you been? I see you’ve been quite busy...”

The wiry man was apparently not a man. Sorry felicia.

“Minerva, it’s been too long... things have been good - things have been good...”

Felicia did not look good. At all. She looked like she hadn’t slept in a year and she smelled like she hadn’t showered in a month. McGonagall, being the queen that she is, decided to not point this out. Lenore would've but she was eleven and wasn't given the chance.

“Do you have any trunks left? I have a charge that is in need of one, as she is set for Hogwarts this year.”

“Yes, of course..... i’ve got some here somewhere- Now where did i put them?”

She led them to the far wall on the right, that was apparently made entirely of trunks. How anyone could lose track of these she didn’t understand. Felicia must really be out of it i guess.

“Let’s see..... we’ve got warded ones, shrinkable ones, extended ones, colour changing,-“ The lady started listing off all the options she had, and by god did she have options. The prizes ranged from thousands of galleons to a handful of sickles.

Her father had already wandered off to , presumably, touch everything in the store. He wasn’t a fan of shopping and Lenore had inherited her limited attention span from him. Shopping with the Evergreens was a bit like herding kittens, every time you catch one the other will escape. Her mom on the other hand was busy discussing what charms she needed on her trunk and what it would cost. Lenore for once listened closely.

“The extendable charm is of course recommended to be atleast 23 feet wide on all sides. This way ms. Lenore has more than enough space for both her school supplies and any personal items she might bring,-” Lenore quickly did the math, 23 inches was approximately 7 meters, how much space could they fit in these things? Could she bring her own library? “and i hardly doubt wards will be necessary, as she’ll be perfectly safe at Hogwarts of course.”

“What wards ya got?” Wards sounded important. Better to be paranoid and wrong than naive and get her stuff stolen.

“Ms.Lenore, i hardly think it is necessary to-“

“You know you can just say Lenore right? And i’d honestly rather pay extra than risk getting my shit ruined”

“Lenore! Language” Her mother cut in. “Though i would also like to hear about these wards, what exactly can we expect from them? Could lenore cast the wards herself for a lower cost? ”

“well, ward casting is a 4th year spell.... we have of couse the normal protection wards against thievery..... we also have wards that curse the thief... and wards that keep any objects inside from withering....”

After much discussion and negotiating between the 4 women they eventually settled on a warded walk in trunk. The trunk had a living room space, with a small toilet, a small potions lab and a bookcase. It was warded against intruders and would cover any would be thieves in boils. On top of that is was also shrinkable, and all she had to do to get something out of it was stick her hand in and think of it. It cost over 200 galleons but it was totally worth it since it also came with a ten year warranty. Lenore was fully planning on cashing it in the minute she needed the money, paranoia is your friend and all that.

Her dad in the meantime had counted everything in the shop and attempted to sort it all, a fact which got them a 10% discount after Felicia was done crying her gratitude.

The next stop on their to do list was getting her robes at Madam Malkins. McGonagall had absolutely insisted that she would also need wizarding daywear robes. She was getting her own costume, yay.

Madam Malkin was a short and stocky lady dressed in a bluish purple robe, she had a pointy hat of the same color with a peacock feather attached to it. She also seemed a little surprised that they needed Hogwarts robes, probably because the Hogwarts year was still in session.

Lenore was herded on top of footstool in the back. As soon as she was, a bunch of measuring tapes floated up wards and started wrapping around her. Lenore send a longing look at her parents who were already out the door.
She really and i mean really hated clothes shopping. In fact she hated it so much, that she had managed to avoid it for the last 2 years. Her sister, Sarah, was a bit of a shopaholic and threw almost an entire wardrobe out yearly. Lenore would then look through the rejects and pick out a few. The record was now unfortunately broken, she thought as madam Malkin started pinning robes to her.

An hour. It took an hour. An hour of little pin pricks and “This color look beautiful with your hair! Oh, but it pales your complexion... What about this one instead?” The Hogwarts robes were simple, they were after all a uniform. The Dressing Robes on the other hand were a nightmare, it needed 5 fucking layers and all the colors had to complement each other. Putting it on was a whole other beast, it took her 4 minutes to find the right clasp to unlock the winter coat alone. In the end she had decided on all black colors with brown accents, because black matched with everything. No Mom It’s Not A Phase.

The outfit made her feel like she was in a Victorian period drama. She was wearing a black waistcoat with brown buttons over a silky gray-black shirt, tucked into black high waisted pants. A lot of black. Over the waistcoat she was wearing a brown cloak that reached across her torso, it was just short enough that she wouldn’t sit on it. The cloak was lined with black runes around the rim that supposedly would protect her from getting cursed in the back. As accesoires, which madam Malkin heavily insinuated were important, she had a brown belt , dragonhide boots and a wand holster around her right arm. She didn’t have a wand yet but hey, atleast the holster looked cool.

In short she looked bad ass.

After checking herself out in the mirror for 10 minutes, she looked good okay!, she finally paid and her stuff was stuffed in a small shopping bag. Lenore watched fascinated as the bag got fuller and fuller without growing an inch.

Magic. She could learn to love it.

Sitting on the curb waiting to be picked up got boring very quickly. The alley was hustling and bustling with things to explore and she was just supposed to wait? It occurred to her suddenly that she was given her own money pouch. Surely she could take a look around on her own? This was supposed to be her new world after all, and she definitely looked the part. She had always wanted to go to It-Alley.

Diagon Alley, she took a moment to appreciate, really was alive. The buildings ranged from 2 to 3 stories high, and the sun fit right through the gap. It lit up the beautiful cobblestone path. Every shop had its own little sign, a competition was being held for who could make theirs the most eye catching. As she looked down into Dramatik-Alley she even saw a sign that showed how you would look in the shops robes.

The people streamed from one place to another, dodging and weaving around each other. It was like a dance. She heard a few witches talk about a young quidditch upstart outside a broom shop. “I’m just saying, if they give him a chance Bulgaria might stand a chance the next World Cup” One said to the other. They were talking so animatedly that it made lenore walk over and try to figure out what “quidditch” actually was, turns out it was a super dangerous broom racing sport. Neat. The upstart was apparently something something krum. Maybe she'd see him fly one day.

As she wandered further down she caught sight of an old and decrepit building, it stuck out like a soar thumb next to all the clean and bright stores. The sign said “Ollivanders: Makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.” and there was a single sad looking wand on a cushion in the window sill. She wondered how long that wand had been laying there.

Technically speaking she still needed a wand, right? So it shouldn’t really be a problem if she crossed that off the shopping list on her own.

As soon as she opened the door she immediately instinctively and harshly slammed it closed again. Inside of the shop were thousands upon thousands of wands that were all thrumming with magic. Calling for her. Calling for an owner. This was nothing like the welcoming overhwelmingness of Diagon or the gentle hum in mcGonagall’s wand, no this was an Outburst waiting to happen.

But it was also the only wand store she had seen all day, she would inevitably have to go inside. She took another look at the store, specifically at the pathetic wand in the display, and made her mind up. Steeling herself for the onslaught she carefully opened the door.

“Ah ms. Evergreen, i was wondering who was slamming my doors.”

The pale man behind the counter, who was apparently a magical stalker, seemed to be looking her up and down. Trying to find answers to a question he didn’t know yet.

“HI HELLO CAN I BUY THATWANDPLEASE”

The wands magic was literally pounding in her head, It felt like ants crawling underneath her skin. Her own magic was already lashing out at a few wands that were being very forward with their desire to be picked.

“I- what? The display wand? No, my dear that wand is not for sale.....”

Instead of giving her the stupid wand he took out a measuring tape, quickly followed by a plethora of boxes. She could already feel that none of these wands were Hers, and a migraine was starting to form.

“How about you give these a try,-“ he handed her one of the boxes “Hawthorne, 10 inches, dragonhe-“
“Wrong. It feels wrong”
“Perhaps...... try giving it a flick.....”

The flick send a vase propelling all the way to the back, where it exploded on impact.

She was digging her nails into her hand to try to distract herself from how Wrong this whole store felt. All the wands were curling their magic into the air towards her, vying for her attention. Some felt curious. Some felt malicious. Some felt happy. She could tell that none of these would work, that they would constantly be fighting her magic for her attention. They would turn her into a walking bomb. What she needed was something docile to cancel her magic out. Like the pathetic wet cat wand on the fucking window sill that the Old Man wouldn’t let her try! The strain from keeping her magic contained was making her shake. Her heart felt like it was pounding ten times too fast.

It took another 10 wands before she couldn’t handle it anymore. She stormed out of the building and collapsed on the curb. Breathing exercises. Her dad always said that during a panic attack breathing exercises would stop it from getting worse. A panic attack without hyperventilating was better than one with. 4 counts in, 2 hold, 4 out, 2 hold. She repeated the exercise until she felt it ebb away. Stupid wands.

After a while a shadow fell over her. Ollivander sat down next to her holding the Sad Wand in his lap, pillowcase and all.

“Cedar wood. 13 inches. Phoenix feather. My father’s father made this wand. It is perhaps the least magical wand he ever made,” he looked mournful, more for the wand than his grandpa. “he was on his death bed you see. The process for making a wand – why it needs magic itself. There was simply nothing to give it. It never woke up. I’ve tried to match it to countless young witches and wizards, but nothing has ever made it work. It’s nothing more than a stick...”

“I don’t- i don’t think i can handle those other wands”

“If you’re absolutely certain,” He looked uncertain himself. “than you can have it for free. However if it doesn’t wake before you go to Hogwarts, promise me you’ll try a new wand?”

“Yes, sir” She wasn’t going to pass on a free wand. The day she passed on any free stuff was the day she died.

He handed the Nothing More Than A Stick to her.

She could understand why he thought it was defect. There was a Hum in it, but it was quiet- very quiet. To her it seemed as if the wand was trying to ignore the world, to sleep the centuries away in it’s mournful state. The wand wasn’t made with just the magic of a dying man, it was made with the knowledge it was dying. This wand lost it’s first master before it was even finished. It didn’t want to lose another, and so it wouldn’t let any master close enough for it to mourn them.

Her magic felt through the wand, talked to it maybe. It felt right to her. Her magic wanted to lash out, always. This wand wanted to sleep, forever. They would balance each other out perfectly until she could learn control.
A little wave was all that was needed to show the same to Ollivander. A few sparks flew out. It wasn’t flashy or bright or exciting. But it was hers.

“It’s perfect.”