The Daughter of Darkness

Joa stepped out of Gringotts Bank, the cold marble interior giving way to the bright, bustling street of Diagon Alley and she moved out of the way of the security goblin’s line of sight as they cast suspicious eyes over a blonde, athletic looking wizard. Joa took a deep breath, trying to shake off the tension that had settled in her chest after what had happened down in the depths of Gringotts. The legendary cup was burned into her mind but as she looked down at her hand, she was relieved to see that it remained unburnt. She knew she was lucky. Joa knew she shouldn’t have listened to the ghostly voice, but was it not worth the pain? But why was the lost cup of Helga Hufflepuff in the Lestrange vault, a family dominated by Slytherins? 

Joa shook her head. It’s something to worry about another day. Looking down the alley, was a bustling street, lined with shops and stalls that seemed to stretch endlessly in both directions. The sun was shining brightly, casting warm golden light on the cobblestone street, and the air was filled with a symphony of sounds- chattering witches and wizards, the clinking of coins, and the occasional whoosh of a passing broomstick. Immediately all thoughts of the cup vanished from Joa’s mind as she was overwhelmed by the sheer wonder of the wizarding world. There was so much colour just in the way everyone dressed, bright gaudy colours that simultaneously clashed and were perfectly suiting the extravagant fashion on this street. Joa had never seen this much colour ever in her life.

“Oi what ya starin’ at you!”

Joa blinked. She had been staring at a witch with an extremely blue, pointed hat that definitely did not go with her pink glasses and straight, black hair. ‘Who would ever think that wouldn’t look hideous?’ Joa thought as she hastily apologised for staring. The witch tilted her head slightly to the right as she narrowed her eyes before promptly turning around, immediately becoming lost in the crowd at the bottom of the Gringotts’ steps. Joa scratched behind her ear before looking at her Hogwarts’ letter. She had a lot of stuff that she needed to buy. 

Joa looked at the list, eyes scanning up and down the first section which was about her uniform. Three sets of black robes, dragon-hide gloves and a winter coat, not exactly the most exciting on paper, but necessary. Joa somehow managed to avoid looking just below the uniform, restraining herself from jumping straight to where the letter read ‘wand (necessary)’ and started making a plan of action. There were two main shops in Diagon Alley that she could get her robes from. Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions was the best she had heard for everyday robes so she would definitely head there for robes, maybe seeing if Madam Malkin’s sold dragon-hide gloves also. The other option was Twilfitt and Tattings, a more specialised, higher end store which catered to a wealthier clientele. She would get a proper winter coat there.

With her plan mapped out, Joa finally descended the marble stairs that shielded Gringotts from the masses and joined the sea of people going about their business, a lot of them shopping for Hogwarts’ supplies like her. They however, had families to go with. But Joa didn’t seem to notice that as she walked, well, dodged and squeezed the crowd through the street, her barely five foot tall frame swallowed by the crowd although it did make it slightly easier to weave her way towards Madam Malkin’s. The busy crowds and excited chatter of families preparing for the new school year were beginning to get on her nerves. Joa was accustomed to solitude, to the cold, quiet halls of Lestrange Manor and so the sheer volume of people was a little much for her to deal with.

As Joa approached the entrance to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, she paused for a moment. The shop, with its large display windows showcasing the latest wizarding fashion, seemed very out of place amidst the more traditional, askew and rugged stores of Diagon Alley. Joa could see mannequins dressed in vibrant robes- crimson, emerald, royal blue- each embroidered with delicate golden patterns that shimmered in the sunlight. 

The bell above the door tinkled as she pushed it open, the sound barely audible over the hum of the crowd outside. Inside, the shop was much quieter, the air filled with the soft rustling of fabric and the low murmurs of customers chatting with Madam Malkin herself, a short, squat witch with a kindly face and a measuring tape draped around her neck. The walls were lined with racks on racks of robes in every imaginable colour and size. On her left was a wall of pointed hats in every colour of the rainbow, the primary colours, such as the blue hat that witch was wearing from earlier, were accompanied by a sign offering a sizable discount.

The sound of laughter reached her ears, causing her to glance towards the front of the shop. A group of young witches, accompanied by a set of parents, were trying on various robes, giggling as they modelled them in front of a large mirror. Joa watched them for a moment, a fleeting expression of longing crossing her face, she would never get to go shopping with her family, a solemn acceptance that caused her to sigh.

"Hello there, dear," Madam Malkin's voice broke through Joa's thoughts. The witch had finished with the other customer and was now standing in front of her, her eyes crinkling into a warm smile. "Here for your Hogwarts robes, I assume?"

Joa turned around, now facing the elderly witch, not expecting her to have finished with her customers so quickly, hence she needed a moment to process what she was asked.

“Oui. Er… yes. Robes for Hogwarts please,” Joa asked, still a little bit startled.

Madam Malkin smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with the sort of grandmotherly kindness that would make most children feel at ease. "Of course, dear. You’re a first-year, I assume? Let’s get you measured up then, shall we?". 

At Madam Malkin’s request, Joa took off her cloak and stepped up onto a small wooden stool. As she removed her cloak, she exposed her destroyed right eye to Madam Malkin who seemed to grimace slightly at the sight of it, but did not comment once about it. Joa stood perfectly still as the older witch began taking her measurements, the tape measure flitting about Joa like a curious snake. Madam Malkin worked quickly, her hands deft and practised. 

"You're quite petite, aren't you?" she commented, more to herself than to Joa. "We'll need to make sure these robes fit just right, don't want you tripping over them on your first day!"

Joa awkwardly laughed as she watched her measurements get taken, the thought of making such a fool of herself on her first day made her quite anxious. Madam Malkin finished her measurements and began selecting a set of robes from a nearby rack. "Now, let's see… Ah, here we are," she said, pulling out a set of plain black Hogwarts robes. "These should do nicely. Try them on, dear, and we'll see if they need any adjustments."

“Merci, madam,” Joa said with her soft accent as she took the robes, slipping into a changing room at the back of the shop. The room was small but spacious enough with a floor length mirror hanging on the wall. She caught a glimpse of her reflection as she pulled the curtain closed, her hand moving up to where her eye used to be before the accident. She gave a small smile to herself before starting to put on the robes.

The robes were a bit long, the fabric pooling around her feet. Joa frowned, lifting the hem slightly. She could feel the weight of the fabric, heavy and unfamiliar. She had never worn anything like this before. The clothes she had at home were old, worn, handed down from distant relatives who cared little for her comfort. These robes, though simple, were new and clean, the fabric soft against her skin. It was strange, this feeling of newness, of being clothed in something that was definitively hers.

Stepping out of the fitting room, careful not to trip over the tails, Joa saw Madam Malkin waiting, her eyes narrowed as she inspected the robes.

"Hmm, a bit long, I see," she said, nodding to herself. "Nothing a quick adjustment can't fix. Stand still, dear." With a flick of her wand, the fabric of the robes lifted and shortened itself to the perfect length for Joa, whose eyes were mesmerised by such an effortless display of magic. There was so much to learn, so much to discover, and Joa was determined to master it all once she could get to Hogwarts.

"There we go," Madam Malkin said, stepping back to admire her work. "How does that feel, dear?"

“That feels much better, madam. My Hogwarts’ letter says I will need three sets of them if that is okay, plus a set of dragon-hide gloves as well.”

“Gemenio,” the elder witch muttered, duplicating the perfectly adjusted robes into three sets of the same, the casual nature of her magic just captivating Joa. “Dragon-hide you say? Let me grab a pair for you my dear,” she said, disappearing behind a row of mannequins before reemerging less than a minute later with the protective gloves. “These should protect those delicate hands of yours just fine,” she said sweetly.

“Thank you,” Joa said with a small smile as Madam Malkin folded the robes neatly and placed them into a bag.

"There you go, dear," Madam Malkin said, handing her the bag. "All set for Hogwarts. That’ll be five galleons and two sickles.”

Joa handed the money over with a smile and thanked the witch for her help by rounding the sickles up to the next galleon. With that she stepped out of the shop, the noise of Diagon Alley hit her again, a cacophony of sound and colour that seemed almost overwhelming after the relative quiet of the shop. Joa took a deep breath, the robes and gloves secured into her trunk as she looked out across the crowd. ‘One shop down,’ she thought. Next up would be Twilfit and Tattings, a shop renowned for its elegance.

A leaf landed in Joa’s wild hair, the first sign of the nearing autumn was here, exacerbating the need in her mind to get a good quality winter coat. A crisp gust of wind blew through the alley, one that wouldn’t trouble most people but to someone as small and slight as Joa, it caused a shiver to run through her. Hogwarts would be cold, especially in the draughty halls as she’d need to scurry between classes through the winter months.

She came to a stop outside Twilfitt and Tattings, her violet eye scanning the shop's elegant facade. The store exuded an air of exclusivity, its grand windows displaying the finest wizarding attire, tailored to perfection. The shop was more refined than Madam Malkin's, catering to those who preferred their clothing with a touch of sophistication- and who could afford it. Joa’s heart beat slightly faster as she pushed the door open, a delicate chime announcing her entrance that was much more refined than the one in Madam Malkin’s. The interior of Twilfitt and Tattings was luxurious, with polished dark wood floors, soft lighting, and rows of mannequins dressed in the finest robes, cloaks, and coats. The air was perfumed with a subtle, expensive scent, a blend of sandalwood and vanilla, that felt almost out of place amidst the usual musty smells of Diagon Alley.

Joa stepped inside, her small figure seeming even more diminutive in the vast elegant space. Almost immediately, she felt the eyes of one of the shop attendants on her, polite but assessing, as though trying to determine whether she belonged in such a refined establishment. With an awkward smile, Joa made her way toward the section of the shop where winter coats were displayed. Each one was more exquisite than the last—deep greens, rich burgundies, and midnight blues, all crafted from the finest materials, lined with fur or enchanted to provide warmth against the harshest of winter winds.

As she browsed the racks, her fingers brushed lightly against the fabric, testing the weight and texture of the coats. She was not concerned with colour or style, only with finding something warm and durable although she naturally preferred the darkest ones. But as she reached for a simple black coat, her attention was caught by the sound of a voice- a cold, drawling voice that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Draco, do not slouch. You represent the Malfoy name, and I expect you to carry yourself with dignity," the voice said, laced with the kind of authority that brooked no disobedience.

Joa turned her head slightly, her violet eye narrowing as she caught sight of the speaker. Lucius Malfoy stood tall and imposing, his long platinum hair and aristocratic features making him instantly recognizable. Beside him was a boy her age, with the same pale blond hair and sharp, noble features. He was adjusting the sleeves of a finely tailored black robe, clearly uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his father. The boy straightened his back and said something to his father, most likely an apology that was inaudible to Joa.

‘Malfoy… Why is that name familiar?’ Joa wondered. She thought back to the histories of the great pureblood families that she had read about, years ago in the great Lestrange library. She knew that Malfoy was an infamous name, perhaps even more than her own surname. She thought of her mother, ‘Bellatrix Lestrange, née Black,' she recalled. House Black? Did her mother have siblings? Yes, two, but what were their names? The familiarity would come to her at some point. For now she went back to browsing the rows of fur coats.

Lucius glanced up as he spoke to Draco, his cold grey eyes sweeping across the shop. When his gaze landed on Joa, he paused, his expression hardening with curiosity. There was something familiar about the small girl standing near the coats, something that tugged at the edge of his memory. His eyes narrowed as he struggled to think of who she was.

"Who's that, father?" Draco asked, his tone a mixture of curiosity and disdain as he followed his father’s gaze towards Joa, a question which Lucius did not answer immediately. Instead he approached Joa, his quick, long strides bringing the tall man to her side in mere moments.

"Who are you, girl?" Lucius asked, his voice as cold as his gaze. "Shouldn’t you be with your parents?"

“Je m’appelle Joa, monsieur." Joa said, meeting his gaze as she fiddled with her sleeve, this man was much more intimidating than anyone she had met in Diagon Alley so far.

“Joa… I assume you have a family name if you are in this establishment,” he almost seemed to sneer.

“Umm… well…” Joa began to stammer as the man loomed over her short stature, his gaze unyielding as if he could see through into her head. “I am..” Joa took a deep breath as she plunged off into the deep end. “Joa Lestrange, monsieur.”

Immediately the temperature seemed to drop as that cursed name was spoken aloud. Lucius’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and he studied her with renewed interest. After a moment, his lips curled into a thin, calculating smile as his eyes flicked over her, taking in her wild curls, her pale skin, and the empty void where her right eye should have been.

"Lestrange, you say?" he said with a hint of disbelief. “I was unaware that Bellatrix had a daughter. She spoke of many things, but never of a child,” he said, which made Joa’s heart ache in a way she had never felt before.

“M-My mother, she…” Joa started, concealing the pain she felt inside. “I was barely born when they took her away… I was raised by house-elves and distant relatives. There was no one to speak of me.”

"I see. It is regrettable that you were left in such circumstances.” Lucius’ put his hand to his chin, deep in thought. He clearly wasn’t expecting to learn arguably the cruellest and most ruthless witch of recent years had secretly had a daughter, unknown to the world. This was quite the development, not only had he encountered Harry Potter earlier, but the daughter of Bellatrix Lestrange would also be in the same year as his heir. “What happened to your eye, Joa?” He said in a curious tone, peering into the young girl’s wounded eye socket.

“I was in the Lestrange manor library, there was a spellbook full of incantations that are not widely known.” Joa said, her piercing violet eye almost glowing as she looked at the man. “I needed a vessel to channel the spell and I don’t have a wand so it… Misfired”. Joa said, in a tone without any perceptible regret at her failed experiment. “You said you knew my mother, sir? May I ask how?”

Lucius looked down at the girl who seemed to have raised more questions than answers. Already she was showing a dangerous sense of experimentation that seemed to suggest the daughter at least matched his sister-in-law’s intelligence, well before she went mad. But this sense of curiosity she revealed… Now that could be useful. Dangerous certainly, but useful also.

“Your mother,” he started, “She is my wife’s sister-”

"You're my cousin?" Draco blurted out, his usual arrogance momentarily forgotten in his surprise as he interrupted his father. The idea of having a cousin he had never met, never even known about, was something he had not been prepared for.

Lucius placed a hand on Draco's shoulder, as much to steady him as to remind him of his place. 

"Indeed, Draco," he said smoothly, though his mind was still processing the revelation. "It seems we have a relative we were unaware of." He glanced at Draco, who was still staring at Joa as if she were some rare, curious creature. "Draco," Lucius continued, his tone authoritative, "Joa is your cousin, and you should treat her as such. Pureblood families must stand together, especially in these times. I expect you to ensure that she is well looked after at Hogwarts."

Draco blinked, a hint of reluctance crossing his features, but he nodded obediently. 
"Yes, Father."

Lucius returned his attention to Joa, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Now, Joa, I believe you were looking for a winter coat? Allow me to assist you in choosing one. Consider it a gesture of goodwill from your uncle that is glad you have finally found... our family."

Joa blinked, the offer catching her off guard. She was not expecting to have met, or ever have any family that seemed to want to associate with her as much as the Malfoy patriarch seemed to. Although there was something in his tone that made Joa bristle slightly, she wouldn’t refuse this gift.

“Thank you… Uncle.” she said, the word feeling foreign to her. Lucius nodded, pleased with her response, and gestured for the nearest shop attendant. 

"This young lady will require the finest winter coat you have," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. The attendant, a nervous-looking wizard with a tape measure draped around his neck, hurried to comply as he hoped he hadn’t just been caught eavesdropping. Joa watched as he selected a coat from the rack- a deep emerald green with a silver lining, the fabric thick and soft to the touch. It was a beautiful garment, one that spoke of wealth and status, and Joa knew it would be warm enough to withstand even the harshest of winters. The Slytherin colours escaped her as she  slipped the coat on, the fabric falling perfectly over her small frame. It was heavier than she was used to, the weight of it a reminder of the warmth it would provide. She ran her fingers over the soft material, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and unease.

"It suits you," Lucius said, his voice smooth and approving. "Consider it a gift, a welcome to the family."

“Merci beaucoup,” Joa smiled as Lucius paid for the coat with an excessive amount of galleons. Lucius’ mind was already calculating the possibilities. Joa Lestrange was an unknown factor, a new piece on the board, but he was confident he could turn her presence to his advantage. The future, he thought, was always full of possibilities, especially for those who knew how to play the game like he did. Draco, meanwhile, had regained his composure, a small smirk forming on his lips. 

"Well, cousin," he said, his tone light and slightly mocking, "it seems we'll be seeing a lot more of each other at Hogwarts. I suppose we ought to make the best of it."

“Oui, it shall be nice to not head to Hogwarts alone.” Joa said softly, her voice melodic as she ignored her new cousin’s tone.

As she left the shop, Joa felt the weight of the coat around her shoulders, a tangible reminder of her encounter with the Malfoys, her new relatives. She had stepped into Twilfitt and Tattings looking for a winter coat, but she had left with something far more valuable- people she could call her family. 

It may have been a mostly warm day out but Joa kept the coat on until she reached the next shop on her list. Ollivander’s Wand Shop. The shop was not far from where she just was. Joa had noticed it earlier, its narrow, weathered facade standing out even among the many curious establishments that lined Diagon Alley. The shop was ancient, with peeling gold lettering on the window that read:

“Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.”

The window display was simple, featuring a single wand lying on a faded purple cushion. There was something almost reverent about the simplicity, as if it was saying, “This is all that matters.” It wasn’t wrong.

The bell above the door jingled softly as Joa pushed it open, the sound quickly swallowed by the shop's hushed atmosphere. The shop was narrow, with shelves that seemed to stretch infinitely upward, all filled with long, narrow boxes of every imaginable size. The air was thick with dust, giving the place a musty, ancient smell. The light was dim, filtering in through the small windows, casting long shadows that made the space feel even more cavernous than it was.

For a moment, it seemed as if the shop was empty. But then, as Joa’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, she saw a tall, thin figure emerge from behind one of the towering shelves. He moved with an odd combination of age-worn frailty and spry alertness, his gnarled fingers tracing the edge of a dusty shelf as he approached. His silvery hair caught the light, almost glowing against the dark backdrop. His eyes, sharp and pale, locked onto hers with an intensity that was unsettling.

“Good afternoon,” came a soft, almost whispery voice. Ollivander's gaze lingered on her face, his eyes flicking briefly to the empty socket where her right eye should have been. He said nothing, but Joa could sense the questions swirling in his mind, the calculations and considerations as he assessed her. “A first-year at Hogwarts, yes?” he asked, though it wasn’t really a question. His tone was as certain as if he had known her entire life.

“Yes, sir.” Joa said, releasing a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “I-I’m here for a wand please.”

“Of course, of course,” Ollivander murmured, nodding to himself.

Ollivander began to move around the shop with a speed and efficiency that seemed at odds with his frail appearance. He pulled a measuring tape from his pocket, which immediately sprang to life, taking Joa’s measurements with barely any need for direction.

“Hold out your arm now, please,” Ollivander instructed, and Joa complied, holding out her right arm. The tape measure zipped around her, measuring everything from the length of her arm to the width of her palm, even the distance between her nostrils. Ollivander paid close attention to the measurements, his eyes flicking back to her face every so often, as if he were making mental notes. Finally, the tape measure stilled, and Ollivander retrieved it with a flick of his wrist. 

“Interesting,” he murmured, more to himself than to her. “Very interesting.”
He began to peruse the shelves, muttering to himself as he worked, his long fingers dancing over the boxes as if they were keys on a piano. The boxes shifted under his touch, some lifting into the air and floating down to the counter beside Joa, while others retreated further into the recesses of the shelves. 

“The wand chooses the wizard, Miss Lestrange,” Ollivander said, his voice softer now, almost reverent. “It is not always an easy process, but the right wand will find you.”

Joa nodded, her nerves beginning to build as she watched him place the boxes in front of her. She knew the process could take time, and there was no guarantee that the first wand she tried would be the one. Still, the thought of being rejected by a wand was unsettling. What if she couldn’t find one that wanted her?

“Let us see if this one will suit you,” Ollivander said quietly although it echoed hauntingly around the room. “Ash, core of unicorn hair, quite flexible and eleven inches long.” He handed the open box towards Joa who hesitantly removed the wand and held it. She felt its weight, its texture as it balanced perfectly in her hand. She felt a slight tingle as she gripped it tight between her fingers and as she waved it, there was only a faint spark at the tip then nothing more. 

Ollivander took the wand back without a word, setting it aside as he opened the next box. Inside was a beautiful wand made of willow, with a slight bend and a dragon heartstring core. It was lighter than the first, more delicate in appearance although it was quite rigid. Joa gave it a wave but it remained lifeless in her hand to which the wandmaker frowned.

"No, not quite right," he murmured. "Let’s try this- ebony and phoenix feather, twelve inches, rather rigid." Before Joa could even give it a wave, it was snatched away from her. "No, no, that won’t do," Ollivander muttered, growing more animated as he moved between the shelves, selecting and discarding wands with increasing speed. "You are a tricky one, aren’t you?"

Wand after wand was placed in her hand, each more unsuitable than the last. Some wands spat out angry sparks, others simply fizzled and died, leaving nothing but silence in their wake. Yet with each failure, Joa felt herself growing more intrigued. She could feel the magic in the air, swirling around her like an unseen storm, searching for the perfect conduit, the perfect match. Though after several more wands were given to her, none of them producing anything significant for her, Joa was feeling quite anxious. What if no wand would choose her?

But Ollivander was not deterred. If anything, he seemed increasingly determined to find this tricky customer the wand that was perfectly suited to her. After all, all witches and wizards would have one. Taking another look at Joa, Ollivander buried himself back into the pile of boxes, he knew the one he was looking for was somewhere here.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ollivander paused. He stood before a tall, narrow shelf, his hand hovering over a single, unassuming box. For a moment, he hesitated, his fingers trembling slightly as if caught between two thoughts. He looked back at Joa. His silver eyes gleamed with an intensity that hadn’t been there before then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he pulled the box from the shelf and presented it to Joa, his hands steady.

"This one," Ollivander said quietly, almost reverently, as he opened the box. "Red oak, twelve and three-quarter inches, slightly curved. Dragon heartstring core."

The wand had a warm, reddish-brown hue, polished to a smooth, glass-like finish that caught the light in a way that made the surface almost seem alive. Darker streaks ran along its length like rivulets of deep shadow, blending seamlessly with lighter, amber-toned swirls that gave the wand an organic, almost flowing quality. At the handle, the wand widened slightly, culminating in a spherical end of deep mahogany, its surface intricately carved with tiny, swirling patterns that seemed to dance and shift as one’s gaze moved over them. Just above the handle, an ornate dragon motif curled around the base of the wand, its scales delicately etched into the wood. The dragon’s eyes were two tiny, gleaming stones, a shade darker than the wood itself, giving it a lifelike intensity. Further up, the wand tapered gracefully, drawing the eye along its length toward the tip, which was sharply defined, ready to channel the immense magical power within. The entire length of the wand had a gentle, yet noticeable curve, not in a way that spoke of imperfection, but rather as if it had been shaped by some ancient, unseen force of nature to fit perfectly into the hand of its destined wielder.

Joa could see that Ollivander’s hands were steady now, his earlier hesitation gone. Joa knew that this one was the wand for her. She reached out, her fingers brushing against the smooth, polished wood. The moment she touched it, she felt a jolt of energy surge through her, like a bolt of lightning striking the earth. It wasn’t just magic- this was something more, something primal and raw that resonated deep within her. The wand hummed in her hand, the magic within it waking fully as if it had been asleep all this time, waiting just for her.

 
“A very powerful wand, and not one that is easily tamed. It requires a strong will, a determined mind. But in the right hands, it can do great things.” Olivander spoke cautiously. "Take good care of it, Miss Lestrange. Wands are powerful tools, but they are also reflections of our deepest selves. I suspect that you and this wand will do great things together- though I hope that those things will be for the good."

Joa’s breath caught in the back of her throat, the excitement replaced with a sense of worry as Joa looked up at the wandmaker, fear in her eye as she was recognised.

“How did you-”

“I know many a thing, Miss Lestrange, I knew from the moment you stepped into my shop who you are. You have quite the legacy to live up to,” he said, leaning over the counter, causing Joa to take a tiny step back and gulp. Olivander seemed to be staring deep beyond Joa’s eye, right into the depths of Joa’s soul.

“I- I hope to be different from her…” Joa muttered, shyly looking down, unable to meet the wandmaker’s gaze.

“I hope so too,” he said, a soft caution with a solemn sense to his words. “I remember the day your mother came to me for her wand. It was sunny, a late day in August. She came in with mother, Druella Black. She shared your excitement, you know? She was eager to get her very own wand. You look like she did that day.” Those words caused Joa’s heart to feel like it was going to be crushed inside her. The fact that her mother was once like her caused her both heartache and anxiety. It was a connection to the woman she had never had the chance to know but knowing what her mother went on to do, being described as looking exactly like her mother made her worry if she would end up the same as Bellatrix- a twisted monster who casually committed truly horrific things and ruined so many lives.

“Her wand,” Ollivander said, his voice filled with a quiet reverence, “was made of walnut, twelve and three quarters inches long, with a dragon heartstring core. Your wand is very similar to hers. Curious… Curious…”

Joa’s breath caught in her throat at his words. Joa stared down at the wand in her hand, her mind reeling. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, the pulse echoing in her ears like a drumbeat. Was she destined to follow in her mother’s footsteps, to become a witch as feared and reviled as Bellatrix Lestrange?

“Your mother’s wand was a formidable one, unyielding in its loyalty and capable of great feats of magic,” he continued, a slight, eerie gleam in the old wandmaker’s eye. “Terrible, terrible things she did. But great feats nonetheless.”

Joa stepped out of the shop with her new wand in her pocket. Normally a young witch would be ecstatic upon getting their very own wand, the one item that confirms someone as magical. Joa was happy, but Ollivanders words were circling around her head. He had recognised her. He had even cautioned her. So far Joa had been exposed to the wider wizarding world and already people were expecting her to be a carbon copy of her mother. But even that couldn’t stop the small smile from appearing on her face, she did have her very own wand after all. 

Pushing the wandmaker’s words out of her mind, Joa looked down at what remained on her Hogwarts list. She had been to Madam Malkin’s, met the Malfoys in Twilfitt and Tattings and gotten her wand in Ollivanders. She sighed as she realised she still had to go to three shops minimum, four if she wanted a pet. Joa never knew shopping could be this draining, though in fairness, she had never been to Diagon Alley. Looking at the items needed, Joa made a plan for how to get the last items as efficiently as possible. 

Nearest to Ollivanders was Potage's Cauldron Shop, but the cauldron would be the heaviest so she would go to that shop last. Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment was right next to that so she’d go there just before which would leave Flourish and Blotts, admittedly the shop that Joa had been most excited to visit, second only to Ollivanders. Maybe she’d stop into Eeylops Owl Emporium if she had time. The only pet that would be worth having in Joa’s opinion was an owl. A toad would be useless, a cat would just do it’s own thing which admittedly Joa could respect but owls could actually be useful to her. She could send letters. There was only the slight issue of not having anyone to send letters to. Maybe best to delay getting an owl there for now, it may be more prudent to wait until she could make some friends.

Her plan was perfect and so she set off, back down the cobbled street towards the bookshop, weaving through the crowded street. After squeezing through the mass of people, resisting the faint, sweet aroma of Honeydukes sweets drifting from a nearby cart, she eventually ended up outside the storefront. Flourish and Blotts had two large front windows showcasing stacks of books piled high, some hovering just above their shelves, gently rotating as if to better display their titles. Joa’s heart quickened at the sight, she could easily spend days just speeding through the books. There are a lot of worse ways to spend your life than surrounded by books. The shop was crowded, as expected this time of year. Families were bustling in and out, arms laden with books and supplies, children chattering excitedly about what they would get up to at Hogwarts and what sort of adventures they’d go on.

With a small sigh, she pushed open the door and stepped inside. The musty scent of parchment and ink hit her immediately, a comforting, familiar smell that eased some of the tension in her shoulders. She closed the door behind her, shutting out the noise of the alley. The interior of the shop was just as chaotic as outside, with shelves reaching up to the ceiling, crammed with books of every size and colour. Ladders rolled along tracks, guided by shop assistants who deftly retrieved books for waiting customers.

Joa took a deep breath and wove her way through the crowd, her slight frame slipping easily between bustling shoppers. Her violet eye caught sight of the section dedicated to Hogwarts textbooks, and she made her way toward it, her steps deliberate and measured. She could hear snippets of conversation around her—families discussing which books to buy, children eagerly talking about the different Hogwarts houses, the latest brooms, and gossip about the teachers. Apparently a former muggle studies professor had returned to Hogwarts and would now teach Defence against the Dark Arts.

As she reached the Hogwarts section, Joa’s fingers brushed against the spines of the books, feeling the raised lettering, the texture of the covers. ‘The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1’ was the first on her list. She found it quickly, a slim, unassuming volume bound in leather the colour of copper. She pulled it from the shelf and cradled it in her arms. Next was ‘The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection’. Joa’s lips curled into a small, enigmatic smile as she spotted the dark blue tome. This was a book she already knew well, having read an older edition back at the Lestrange Manor. But she needed the newer version for school to make her notes in. She pulled it from the shelf, its cover adorned with silver lettering and a faint shimmer as if enchanted to catch the eye. Her gaze moved to the next book- 'Magical Drafts and Potions'. This one was thicker, bound in a calming silver with an image of a brewing cauldron on its front.

‘One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi’ was easy to spot, its bright green cover standing out among the more muted colours. She pulled it free, feeling the texture of the embossed leaves under her fingers. She quickly acquired ‘A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration’ and ‘Magical Theory’, two books that Joa couldn’t wait to get stuck into. That just left her to get two fresh editions of ‘Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them’ and ‘A History of Magic’, two books that Joa had read signed copies of, back in the Lestrange manor. She grabbed them despite not being as excited about those parts of the upcoming curriculum.

She turned and made her way to the counter, where a long line of customers was waiting. She joined the queue, her expression blank, her mind already drifting to the pages she would soon be devouring. The line moved slowly, but Joa didn’t mind, looking around the bookstore, watching all the people. Most seemed happy, excited, full of life. It was a stark contrast to the cold, empty halls of Lestrange Manor, where silence reigned, and warmth was a foreign concept. Here, in the heart of Diagon Alley, there was a vibrancy, a sense of community and connection that Joa found both fascinating and alien.

When she finally reached the front of the line, she placed her books on the counter, her expression calm and composed. The shopkeeper, a middle-aged witch with greying hair and a kindly smile, glanced up at her, her eyes widening slightly as they fell upon Joa’s right eye although she quickly masked her unease.

“Hello there, dear,” the witch said, her voice carefully neutral. “That’s quite the collection you’ve got there. Starting at Hogwarts, are we?”

Joa nodded, her gaze steady. “Yes,” she replied, her voice soft, her French accent noticeable. “First year.”

“Lovely, lovely. That’ll be fourteen galleons for the lot.”

Joa reached into her pouch and pulled out the coins, counting them carefully before placing them on the counter. The witch swept them up, her movements quick and efficient.

“Thank you, dear,” she said, sliding the books into a brown paper bag with a flick of her wand which Joa then slid into her trunk. “I hope you enjoy your time at Hogwarts. It’s a wonderful place.”

Joa stepped back into the bustling street, the noise and chaos of Diagon Alley washing over her once more. She glanced around, taking a moment to get her bearings. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the cobblestones, and the shops were starting to close, their owners tidying up and taking stock for the night. Joa quickly made her way down the alley to the final two shops, a sense of contentment filling her as she thought about reading her new books, something she would do immediately upon her return back to Lestrange manor. She quickly manages to pop into Potage’s Cauldron Shop and Wiseacre’s Wizarding Equipment before they shut, allowing her to buy a cauldron, a set of scales, a telescope and some crystal phials. She had everything necessary for Hogwarts, a pet was optional after all.

Joa took one more look down the street, at the hub of magical Britain as the shops closed their doors for the evening, the only ones still accepting new customers being the various cafés and restaurants that were dotted about. Joa held her new coat tighter as a small breeze blew through her, it was time to get back to the manor. She set off back to the Leaky Cauldron with her trunk, now full up, in her hands as she almost dragged it along the cobble road, too heavy for her small frame to carry with ease. ‘I need to learn object levitation first…’ she thought to herself as she struggled until finally she entered the pub. There was no way Joa would even consider going on the Knight Bus, especially not twice in the same day. Instead she opted to travel by floo powder figuring it would also be quicker. Muttering her destination as she stepped into the fireplace, a few heads turned as they thought they heard somewhere spoken that no one would have any reason to go. 

Joa disappeared into green flames and reappeared immediately back at the place that served as her home. Stepping out of the grand fireplace into the dark, isolating familiarity, she almost ran upstairs, diving onto her bed as a house-elf levitated her trunk upstairs for her. She unpacked her new textbooks, spreading all eight of them out in front of her. She made a silent promise to herself, she would memorise them before she even got to Hogwarts. There was so much to learn, to discover and Joa wanted to know it all.