An Outing to Diagon Alley
Lyra silently smiled softly and nodded along to Draco as he spoke. Or… bragged and whined she should say. Spending time with him was never pleasant but it was not her place to say or do a thing.
To put it simply, Lyra wanted to return to secure walls of Grimmauld Place. Away from prying eyes and extra expectations that had been placed on her. Mostly, she wanted away from Draco. Out of the few people she had met in her life, she disliked her cousin the most.
Looking to her left, away from Draco, Lyra spotted a group of people. One woman was very clearly a witch. But the others in this groups of both adults and children, were wearing odd clothing.
”Filthy Mudbloods. They shouldn’t be allowed in our world. They’d be better of dead. That’s what father says.” Draco sniffed as he too spotted the group.
Lyra tilted her head up as her face twisted in disgust. Filthy creatures. Great Aunt Walburga had taught Lyra a great amount of these people with filthy magical blood. They certainly did not belong in Diagon Alley.
“Your father should be careful about who he says such things to. They may be truthful but it is better to hold your cards close. Then again, he doesn’t have the subtle touch that runs through the veins of those from House of Black.” Lyra softly retorted.
Lucius Malfoy often struggled with his temper and composure when surrounded by those less than him. Even more so with people who outright disagreed or opposed him.
Narcissa was at least subtle. She silently cuts you will well placed insults and backhanded compliments. She can put someone in there place without uttering a single cruel word.
”My father can say exactly what he likes to. Anyone who doesn’t like it simply doesn’t have any importance.” Draco huffed. Lyra internally rolled her eyes.
At least one can be subtle with their hatred for people. No need to go out and insult half-bloods, mudbloods, and blood traitors just for the sake of it.
“Draco. There is no need to argue this point. Let us move on lest someone assume we are gawking at that filth over there. Besides, the muggles are stinking up the area.” She said, staring straight ahead, waiting for Draco to turn around as well.
”I am not gawking at them! I merely looked. Let’s leave, this place stinks now.” Draco said and began walking off. Once again, Lyra internally rolled her eyes.
After a few more minutes of Draco constantly talking and whining about idiotic things, the pair relocated Narcissa and joined her.
”Mum! We saw a group of Muggles and Mud-“
“Draco! Don’t you dare finish that word. People can hear you here. We have everything but your wands. Let’s make this quick as possible.” Narcissa interrupted her son with a steely look. She too disliked how loud he often was about his opinions.
Lyra silently followed the mother-son duo. She missed Kreacher and hoped that upon returning he would have some tea waiting for her.
…
Ollivander was a strange shop with a strange owner. As the trio stepped inside, Lyra looked around with a slightly upturned nose. Draco’s look of disgust was much more obvious.
”Young Mr. Malfoy. I was wondering when you should arrive. Madame Lestrange, it is a pleasure to see you just on time.” Ollivander said with a strange glint in his eyes.
“Draco you go ahead. The wand will choose you.”
Ollivander intervened as Draco reached for a box on the counter.
“Mr. Malfoy I need your measurements first. Wand arm, please.” The older wand-maker said as he pulled out a measuring tape. Lyra watched as essentially everything but Draco’s wand arm seemed to get measured.
“Let’s see. Why don’t we try, Holly with a Unicorn Hair core. 11 1/2 inches in length. Slightly springy flexibility.”
Draco snatched the handsome wand and swished it. Several items in the shop exploded and the wand itself jumped away from Draco’s grasp.
”No. I suppose not that one. Let’s try a different one.” Draco glared as the Ollivander spoke.
After a handful of attempts, Draco was handed a very handsome Hawthorn wand with a Unicorn Hair core, 10 inches in length, and reasonably springy flexibility.
It sparked softly as Draco took hold and it was a confirmed match. Draco looked at the wand with a smug look. Lyra simply sighed to herself.
Stepping up to the counter, she allowed the elderly man to do her measurements without question. She stared into his eyes as she stepped forward and something akin to recognition flickered in the man’s eyes.
The first four did not match with Lyra but they must’ve helped the wand-maker narrow down his options.
”Maybe… just maybe. I feel that I have the perfect wand for you my dear.” Garrick said as he walked towards the back of the shelves in the shop.
As he shuffled forward with a box in hand. Lyra felt a pull in her chest. She needed to try this one.
“This, young lady, is a wood I rarely sell these days. The last time I sold one was in 1960. Brilliant young lad… give it a try.”
Lyra gently took the wand from the box and almost immediately she felt her body hum. The wand lit itself with a warm glow for several seconds. A match.
”Cypress. It is often associated with nobility. Those with a Cypress wand tend to be very brave. Let’s see… dragon heartstring core… 13 inches… supple flexibility. It is an honor to meet someone with a match in this wand. I expect you shall do great things in life, Madame Lestrange.” Garrick Ollivander said with a strange look.
If Lyra read into expression correctly, she could almost guess a look of awe… or was it pity? She couldn’t entirely tell. She was simply happy to have a wand that fit for her.
As Narcissa handed over 14 Galleons for the two wands, Lyra could see something akin to sadness in the woman’s body language. Shouldn’t she be proud? Lyra had a noble wand.
Draco and Lyra waited silently by the door as the two adults had a brief, whispered conversation.
…
Upon returning to her home. Lyra went to the sitting room where Walburga was seated, staring at the fireplace. She cautiously approached the aging woman.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. She carefully counted the steps from the doorway to the chair her Great Aunt was perched on.
”Great Aunt Walburga. I have returned from Diagon Alley.” Lyra said gently. Walburga slowly looked away from the fire to look at the child. She nodded slightly before returning her gaze to the flames.
”Did you find a wand? Did you find everything you need for school?” The woman asked. Her voice was slightly strained.
“Yes, Madame. It was no trouble collecting everything. I tried four wands before I found mine. Cypress. Mr. Ollivander said it was associated with nobility.”
Walburga seemed to stiffen slightly. But she nodded nonetheless.
“I shall not dine with you tonight. I expect silence for the rest of the evening. You may take your things to your room. I would prefer it if you would begin your studies sooner rather than later.” Walburga stated, her gaze remaining glued to the fireplace.
“Yes Great Aunt Walburga,” and with that, Lyra turned and counted eight steps out of the room. Treading lightly up the stairs. Counting each steps to ensure it was correct the entire way back to her room.
She carefully shut her door and sat on her bed. She looked around the blank walls of her room and dared to think about covering them with posters and photographs.
She shook the thought from her head. Stupid thought. It was unladylike to do such things. Lyra carefully pulled out on of her new books and began reading it. Forcing herself to remember every word no matter how boring the contents may be.
She would not disappoint her Great Aunt. She couldn’t.