Wicked
The moment Professor McGonagall left, Anna ripped open the purple wax seal on her Hogwarts letter. The seal was stamped with what she supposed was the school crest, featuring a lion, raven, snake, and a badger, along with a ribbon swirling along the bottom with text that was far too small to read. The emerald green ink on the front had read
Miss A. Alsaint
Third Floor, Second Bedroom on the Left, Bunk 5
All Saints Children’s Home
Taunton, Somerset
How the school could possibly have known the location of her bedroom and even her bunk number was lost on Anna, but she supposed it had something to do with magic.
Magic. She couldn’t believe it. Even after seeing McGonagall’s demonstration and pinching herself half a dozen times, Anna still wondered if she was dreaming, or perhaps if the other children had arranged this as some sort of prank against her.
She pinched herself again and winced. She was definitely awake.
“What’s that?” a torrent of kids came rushing down the steps the moment the front door clicked shut. Anna hadn’t even gotten a chance to pull the heavy parchment out of its envelope to read it.
“It’s my school acceptance letter,” said Anna, clutching the envelope to her chest.
“School letter?”
“What school?”
“You’re really leaving?” David mumbled, his face crestfallen.
A hush fell over the room. Everyone glanced first at one another and then back at Anna. She suddenly felt like she’d swallowed a stone.
“I…I guess I am.”
Professor McGonagall was true to her word and picked Anna up from the children's home at exactly 10 o'clock on the morning of August 30th. They’d left the children’s home with lots of encouraging, albeit tearful, shouts from the other kids. Anna hugged everyone—twice—and promised to write soon and tell them all about her new school. When it came time to say goodbye to Miss Frethey it had taken Anna a moment to pry herself out of the Directress’ vice-like hug, but she’d managed.
Anna and Professor McGonagall walked down the cobblestone streets of Taunton. She wasn’t sure where they were headed. How did witches and wizards travel anyway? She knew there was a train—she’d pored over the details of her Hogwarts letter until the parchment began to fray—but how would they get to the train? She had so many questions and didn’t even know where to begin asking them all.
Anna gripped her bag tighter. She only had a few things of her own but she’d brought them all, including the box of coins and bills that rattled quietly at the bottom of her satchel.
“Professor, how are we getting to London?”
McGonagall assessed Anna through the square-rimmed glasses that sat low on her nose. “By train, of course.”
Anna frowned. That didn’t seem very magical at all.
Sure enough, a few silent minutes of walking brought them to the train station. Professor McGonagall led them effortlessly through the station and onto a train that was already waiting at the platform.
The ride to London was boring. Professor McGonagall sat silently and read a book, the title of which was something about ghouls. Anna worried that someone might notice the funny book but no one did.
Occasionally Anna would ask a question about Hogwarts or about where she was going to find the supplies that had been listed in her acceptance letter. McGonagall assured her that most of the supplies would be provided to her when she arrived at school, including a cauldron, most of her spellbooks, and even dragon-hide gloves. Up until that moment Anna had thought that ‘dragon-hide’ was a brand name, but the Professor assured her that was not the case.
It seemed the only thing Anna would need to purchase new was ‘three sets of plain work robes (black)’ and ‘one wand’.
She had no idea how much a wand would cost but she could guess that it likely wasn't cheap. Anna baulked at the thought of spending her hard-earned hoard in one go. McGonagall told her not to worry, that the school had a budget for students who needed financial assistance and that all her supplies would be provided. Anna's twitchy fingers had stilled after that.
Not much later, they arrived in London.
“This way, Miss Alsaint.” Professor McGonagall once again ushered them effortlessly through the city and into a run-down pub that no one else on the street even seemed to notice.
The Professor had greeted the barkeep by name, who returned the greeting. The old man man even inquired about Anna and congratulated her on starting Hogwarts. She’d smiled halfheartedly back at him, not quite used to meeting strangers.
They didn’t stick around long enough to exchange more pleasantries. McGongall led Anna through the back of the pub and out into a small courtyard where a couple overflowing trash bins stood. McGonagall then pulled out her wand, tapped it on one of the bricks, tucked her wand into the sleeve of her coat, and stood back.
Anna glanced back and forth between the wall and the professor, unsure what they were waiting for. Just when she opened her mouth to ask, the wall gave a quiet rumble and the stones began to shift.
The bricks rolled sideways into each other and in the middle of the wall an opening began to form. What was at first a small hole, no bigger than a coin, grew larger and larger as they watched on. The scrape of stone on stone set Anna’s teeth on edge. She squeezed her eyes shut and rolled her neck to rid the sound from her head.
Finally the grating stopped. Anna pried open her eyes and gasped at the sight.
Beyond the archway that had formed in the courtyard wall was a bustling cobblestone street. The narrow street was lined with shops, each one with a colourful awning and a flurry of people at the windows. Senseless chatter from the crowd floated in the air and swirled around Anna, tangling in her hair and urging her forward. She’d never seen anything like it.
Anna joined the crowd, vaguely aware of Professor McGonagall somewhere beside her. She craned her head around in every direction, trying to take in everything at once. One shop had piles of cauldrons stacked outside, ranging from bright golden ones the size of soup bowls to thick black ones large enough for Anna to sit in, if she tucked in her knees. Another shop had a neat display of broomsticks, each neat bristles that looked as if they’d never once swept a floor and gleaming wooden handles. Another shop was so dark on the inside that Anna thought it had been abandoned until she heard soft hooting from the inside as they passed by it.
All around her, people in multicoloured cloaks bustled up and down the street, carrying shiny broomsticks, funny-looking animals, long telescopes, and armfuls of objects Anna didn’t even recognise. It was absolutely splendid.
“This,” Professor McGonagall interrupted Anna’s thoughts, “is Diagon Alley. We will purchase your supplies here today and stay overnight at the Leaky Cauldron. Come along, we haven’t much to pick up but with this rabble it’ll take longer than I’d planned.”
Anna followed the Professor eagerly down the street, marvelling at the magic all around her.
Their first stop was Flourish and Blotts, a bookstore bustling with kids and adults alike, all frantically searching for books and double-checking their supply lists. McGonagall had quickly located the few books Anna needed. There were several on the supply list, but they only ended up purchasing two. When Anna asked about it the Professor reminded her that Hogwarts had spare copies of most of the books she’d need and the two books they needed to purchase had come out with new editions.
At the register Anna requested that the books not be wrapped. The shopkeeper handed them directly to her while McGonagall paid with a few funny looking silver coins. They’d made their way quickly out of the shop after that. Anna traced curious fingers over the leather cover of the top book as they walked down the street.
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them. It was an odd title, but it sparked a wiggling curiosity in the back of her mind.
After the bookstore they stopped in Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. The shop was a flurry of fabric, measuring tapes, pins, and ribbons when they walked in. The shop owner, Madam Malkin, had ushered Anna into the back of the shop, onto a footstool, and told her to stand still. The older woman shoved a large large black robe over Anna’s head and quickly began pinning it to size. Anna worried that she might stick her with a pin, as Miss Frethey had done once when hemming her trousers, but her fear was unfounded.
The moment Madam Malkin was finished pinning the oversized robe she waved her wand and the excess fabric, along with all the pins that had been in it, fell away, and Anna was left wearing a perfectly fitted black robe.
“Right then, looks good to me,” said the woman. She waved her wand again and a flurry of black fabric and thread swirled around them, miraculously stitching itself into another two sets of robes before holding neatly in on themselves and landing in Madam Malkin’s waiting hands.
Anna quickly shucked the robes she was wearing and folded them messily, setting them atop the others in Madam Malkin’s arms. Back at the front of the shop, McGonagall once again paid. They had the robes wrapped, which Anna didn’t mind. She wasn’t too curious about the robes, though she did note that they weren’t at all like bathrobes.
“That’ll be most of your things,” McGonagall adjusted the large parcel under her arm as they left the shop, making the brown paper crinkle softly. “Good thing, as well, it’s nearly dark. Let’s hurry to Ollivander’s. No telling how long that’ll take.”
The thrill and noise of Diagon Alley faded away when Professor McGonagall ushered Anna into a dusty little shop. The faded sign above the door read Ollivander’s: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. It didn’t look like much compared to the rest of the street.
A desk piled with loose papers sat directly opposite the door and behind it were floor-to-ceiling shelves that stretched backward in neat lines. The contents of the shelves were rather chaotic. Dozens and dozens—if not hundreds—of thin boxes were stacked haphazardly atop one another. The thought crossed Anna’s mind that a thick layer of dust might be the only thing keeping all those boxes from tumbling down. Her nose itched with the tell-tale sign of an oncoming sneeze.
Walking up to the desk, McGonagall rapped her knuckles twice against the wood, folded her hands, and waited.
“Coming, coming,” a quiet voice called from somewhere between the shelves. A few moments later an ancient-looking man came shuffling out. His white hair was a bit wild and his hands, which sat constantly in front of him like he was reaching for something, were rather gnarled.
“Ah,” he sighed, “Professor, a pleasure to see you again.”
“Hello, Ollivander. Miss Alsaint here requires a wand for school,” McGonagall spoke directly.
The man’s pale eyes shifted down to Anna, who stood half-hidden behind McGonagall.
“Hello, Miss Alsaint,” he said with a slight smile. “I presume you are muggle-born?”
Anna’s eyebrows drew down in confusion. “What’s muggle-born, sir?”
“Miss Alsaint has only recently learned of wizard-kind, Ollivander,” McGonagall was quick to interrupt the conversation, “she has not yet had a chance to read her school books.”
“Ah, my apologies, dear,” Ollivander said in a quiet voice. “A muggle-born is someone who has magic, but was born to non-magic parents. Muggles, we call them.”
“Oh,” Anna said, processing the new information. The explanation was simple enough but Anna wondered if she fit into the category of “muggle-born.” She had no way of knowing if her parents were wizards or muggles.
“I’ll just need a few measurements and we can get started then.”
Ollivander shuffled towards Anna with a flexible measuring tape in his gnarled hand. He lined the end of the tape up with Anna’s head and let the rest drop. The tape sprung to life, moving like a sentient creature. It measured her from head to toe, fingertip to wrist, wrist to elbow, and elbow to shoulder. It took the measurement of her palm and each finger, as well as the length of her leg, the circumference of her head, and even the width of each nostril, while Anna did her best to avoid sneezing.
As the measuring tape flew around her, taking various lengths, Mr. Ollivander shuffled off into the shelves, his hands skimming the boxes as he went.
He reappeared just as the measuring tape finished its job and dropped to the floor. His arms were piled with boxes and Anna wondered what the measurements were even for, since he seemed to pick out boxes before the tape finished its work.
He set the boxes down on the desk and they all scattered a bit, but miraculously didn’t fall off. Tapping his fingers across the boxes Ollivander paused on one, glanced up at Anna, then pulled it from the pile. Ollivander shuffled around the desk towards her, all the while pulling the lid off the long, thin box to reveal the carved piece of wood inside—a wand.
Anna glanced up at the old man, he was staring expectantly back at her.
“Go on, then,” he urged.
Hesitantly, Anna picked up the wand from its box and held it firmly in her hand. She had expected to feel something when holding a magic wand for the first time, but this just felt like an ordinary stick she could've picked up in the park. Still, Anna waved it through the air. A few measly sparks sputtered from the tip of the wand. Ollivander clucked his tongue. He quickly grabbed the wand from her hand, replaced it into its box, and turned back to his desk for a new wand.
Anna tried that one too, and the next one, and the next, until she had tried each wand that had been piled on the desk. The results were rather disappointing, though one wand did create a strong gust of wind that looped around the shop and toppled a whole row of boxes from their shelf. Anna understood then why the boxes were stacked so messily.
Mr. Ollivander arranged the tested wands back into their boxes and pushed them aside on the desk. He paused for a moment, his fingers tapping on the desk without any particular rhythm. His eyes darted towards Anna once, twice, and on the third time his hand slapped against the parchment on his desk and he spun away, retreating into the far shelves without a word.
Anna looked to Professor McGonagall, hoping for some reassurance or at least an explanation. The professor simply nodded to her and folded her hands together, which didn’t tell Anna anything at all. As Anna turned again to face the shelves, the bell over the shop door chimed.
A plump, red-haired woman came bustling in. Her dress was a colourful patchwork and she was busy digging around for something in her shoulder bag while two boys shoved through the door behind her, identical smiles on their faces.
“Hello, Molly,” said Professor McGonagall.
The woman startled a bit but a smile lit her face when she spotted McGonagall. “Minerva! Lovely to see you! Are you here on Hogwarts business?”
“Yes, I’m helping Miss Alsaint gather her school things.”
McGonagall gestured to Anna and the red-haired woman seemed to finally spot her.
“Oh! Hello dear, so nice to meet you.” The woman smiled so broadly that it crinkled the corners of her eyes.
“Nice to meet you too, ma’am.”
“Just call me Mrs. Weasley, dear.”
Anna nodded and smiled shyly at the woman. The two boys behind her were elbowing each other and seemingly communicating through eyebrow raises.
“Where are your other boys, Molly?”
“Arthur took Charlie and Percy to get their books. These two need their wands for first year.” She ushered the two boys forward. “This is F—”
“Welcome, welcome.” Just then Ollivander came scurrying back into the front of the shop, a single box cradled in his hands. “I’ll be with you in a moment, Molly.”
He turned again to Anna, though he seemed more focused on the box than anything else.
“Yes…yes, this should do the trick,” he mumbled to himself. Ollivander held the open box out to Anna, looking at her expectantly.
Hesitantly, she reached for it. A rush of heat spread through her fingertips when she touched the wand. It crept up her arm, across her shoulders, and down her spine, sending a shiver through her. This one didn’t feel like just a stick.
Anna suppressed another shiver and, as if by instinct, pointed the wand at Ollivander’s desk and gave it a short wave.
The loose papers on the desk quivered and sprung into the air, swirling in a column, faster and faster, until the pages were a blur. The pages clustered together in midair, reshaping themselves until a miniature paper dragon burst forth.
The paper dragon flew about the room in long, sweeping arches, circling Mrs. Weasley’s sons and ruffling through Anna’s hair. Suddenly, it sent out a small plume of fire from its mouth and flew straight through it. The paper dragon burst into flame, its body singed and crumbled quickly, falling to the floor in ashes.
The room was silent. Anna was reeling with the knowledge that she had just done magic—real, beautiful magic.
“Wicked,” two voices spoke, breaking the silence.
“Just lovely! Applewood and dragon heartstring, a very curious combination I’d say,” Ollivander gently plucked the wand from Anna’s hand, tucked it into its box, and handed it to her. His eyes held hers and it was the most focused she’d seen him this whole time. “You have interesting things ahead of you, my dear girl.”
Anna clutched the wand box to her chest and gave Ollivander a quiet thanks. She was thrilled about her new wand, but she still wasn’t sure what to make of the old man.
“It seems you might have a natural talent for transfiguration, Miss Alsaint,” Professor McGonagall spoke from behind her. She handed a few shiny gold coins over to Ollivander and nodded her goodbye to him before turning to Mrs. Weasley and her sons. “Nice to see you, Molly. I’ll see the two of you at Hogwarts.”
With that, McGonagall led Anna out of the wand shop. Before the door closed behind her, Anna caught the smiles that the red-haired boys sent her way.