Blood and water

Harry’s first time doing accidental magic ended with him stranded on a roof. 

Hermione had set her hair on fire because she did not understand what the meaning of onomatopoeia was(she was 5 years old at the time).

Ron transfigured a stick into a fly swatter in his desperation to get away from a spider at nine.

Harry heard stories from his friends and peers about the different ways they first discovered their magic, each person trying to outdo the other. However, Alina definitely won the award for ‘Most Traumatising Burst of Accidental Magic’.

The roof of the Burrow was blasted into bits, debris still floating around here and there. 

His Godfather was in one of the rooms with a mild concussion and a bottle of alcohol. 

Alina was still unconscious, and a woman wearing green clothing which looked rather bizarre was happy to keep her that way. 

“She’ll get mad when she sees that I’m here,” she explained. “Right now, her magic is still unstable because it has been suppressed for far too long. She should be relaxed, which she won’t be if she catches sight of me.” 

Tamar kept one hand on the axe strapped to her hip. Harry gulped. 

“And why is that?” Hermione asked, her eyes glued to the woman’s necklace. 

Were those shark teeth?

Tamar cleared her throat. “I may or may not have promised to keep an eye on someone but sneaked off to make sure she was doing okay.” Awkward silence filled the room. 

“But hey, it was a good thing I came. You guys would have been toast if it weren’t for me.” She tried to reason with herself. It was clear to Harry that there was a side of Alina they were yet to discover.

“Well, I’ve killed the spies following her, gotten rid of the witnesses with big mouths and the guy with the beard’s fixing the roof, so my work here is done.” She walked to the window. 

“Don’t tell Alina that I came by, alright? And if any of you speak of what you saw her do… I will come after you.” She said menacingly before jumping out of the window.

Ron sighed and sat down. “Alina had better be worth the emotional damage I just experienced.”

Alina woke up two hours later with absolutely no recollection of what had happened. She could feel the magic in her, twisting and turning. It was weird, but she would get used to it. 

She had no idea as to why everyone was holding their breath around her as they ate their dinner, as if waiting for something to happen.   

She put her cutlery down. “Is something wrong?” She asked in genuine concern. Everyone suddenly found their feet very interesting to look at. 

“Nope.” Sirius said with a happy smile. He was clearly drunk, waving his bottle around. She scrunched her eyebrows, confused. 

“Nothing’s wrong, dear. Don’t worry.” Mrs Weasley said kindly. She glared at her sons, who nodded frantically in agreement. 

“I'm done eating.” She pushed away her plate which was still full. She got up and went to her room, feeling nauseous.

Mrs Weasley sighed. “That poor girl. But Dumbledore was right. We shouldn’t tell her what happened this afternoon or else she’ll feel terrible.” 

“You mean more terrible.” Fred muttered. She pretended not to hear him.

By the next day, everyone had almost forgotten what had happened the previous day. Alina told the trio that she would be going back to Hogwarts for lessons. 

“Merlin! Imagine going to school during the holidays!” Ron exclaimed. 

“You poor soul, having to see Snape.” Harry said sympathetically. They turned to Hermione, expecting her to give Alina her condolences. 

“I mean, it’s a responsible way to spend the holidays instead of playing Quidditch all the time.” Hermione pointed out. “Weirdo.” Ron and Harry muttered. 

Alina laughed. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure.” 

“We’re leaving in five minutes!” Mrs Weasley called. “Alright, Mum!” Ron shouted back. “Don’t you raise your voice at me, Ronald Weasley!” She yelled. Harry and Alina smirked.

“Now, you're going to take a handful of the Floo powder, say ‘Diagon Alley’, and you’ll be transported there. Make sure you say it clearly, though.” Mrs Weasley warned Alina. 

Ron stepped into the fireplace and shouted, “DIAGON ALLEY,” before bursting into flames and disappearing.

“Your turn, dearie.”

She nodded, grabbing a fistful of the powder and stepping into the fireplace. “DIAGONILLY!” She shouted before the green flame engulfed her. Hermione and Harry looked at each other. “What did she say?”

Alina coughed as she emerged from a fireplace. She was covered in ash and soot and attempted to brush the black powder off her shirt when she felt a hand on her back. 

“Ron, you didn’t tell me that I’d end up this dirty-AHHH!” She screamed in surprise as she turned and faced a skeleton’s hand. She pulled it off and took a deep breath. 

Saints, what was wrong with this place? 

The hand crawled up a shelf and lay still. Gross. She poked it just to make sure it wouldn't attack her again.

She looked around, realising that the place was full of odd objects. Where was she? 

Ron and the twins were nowhere in sight. 

The shop was dusty and obviously not cleaned as regularly as it should have been. Alina sneezed twice. All the dust made her allergies start acting up. 

What kind of shop sold broken cabinets? And were those real eyeballs? She shuddered in disgust. She walked to the filthy door and left the shop. 

Was this Diagon Alley? Unlike what the trio had described, the atmosphere was dark and gloomy. The alley was deserted.  She walked down the pathway, wary of her surroundings when she saw someone arguing with one of the shop owners. 

“I am not an idiot! There is no way that book is 80 galleons!” A boy with platinum blonde hair waved what she assumed was the 80 galleon book in the man’s face. 

“For you, it is. You have more than enough money to pay anyways, Malfoy.” The short man snarled. The blonde scoffed. “My father will hear about this.” He announced. 

What a Papa’s boy. Alina rolled her eyes. He sounded like he came from money. 

She pitied the short man who clearly did not know how stingy rich people could be with their money. Then again, rich or not, she was pretty sure the book wasn’t worth 80 galleons. She was going to decide whether or not to continue watching the show when she saw the title of the book.

The Tales of Beedle the Bard. 

She spotted a tiny signature on the bottom of the cover page. It was the original! She immediately walked up to the men, silencing them with her presence. 

“I’ll give it to you.” She said urgently. The short man looked at her, confused. She rolled her eyes. Were all wizards this dense? 

“80 galleons. Give me the book, and I’ll pay you 80 galleons for it.” She said exasperatedly. the man laughed and the blonde smirked. 

“Get lost, little girl. I don’t think you even have a galleon on you.” He sneered. She gritted her teeth and pulled out a sachet, opening it and showing it to him. 

Uncle Albus had given her 150 galleons as pocket money for the month.

Thank the Saints for her uncle, she prayed.

His eyes widened as she snatched the book from the blonde and stared at it in awe. She spent months looking for it, and it was here, in the middle of nowhere?

She flipped through the book and found the chapter she was looking for.

“It’s true. He saw it!” She breathed. The blonde scowled at her before smirking.

“I’ll give you 85 galleons for it.” He said. She narrowed her eyes at him.

“100 galleons.” The smirk was wiped off his face. “What’s wrong? A little too out of budget for you? Why don’t you call you daddy here? I’m sure he’ll fix things for you.” She taunted him. His right hand twitched, as if he was itching to grab something.

She tossed the pouch to the man after taking 50 galleons from it. “Well, it was fun while it lasted, Elsa! I’m afraid you’ll have to let me go!” She called, sniggering at her own joke as she walked away from the astonished men.

She wandered around for a while, hoping to find a normal looking person when she bumped into someone. “Oh, I’m sorry.” She apologised before realising that the man was more than twice her height. 

Her eyes widened as she took a step back. “What’re ya doin here alone in these parts, ya little girl?” He thundered. He scratched his shaggy beard. “I haven’t seen ya before a’ Hogwarts.” He said, pulling something from behind his back. 

She slowly raised her hand, getting ready to blast him when she realised it was a pink umbrella. She lowered her hands in confusion.

 A man with a huge beard, practically a giant and carrying an umbrella? Where had she heard this description from?

She clapped her hands together in recognition. “Saints, you’re Hagrid, right? Harry mentioned you before!” She vaguely remembered him telling her about a half-giant.

“Ya know Harry?” He tapped his umbrella on the floor and grinned. “Well, any friend of Harry is a friend of mine. Did ya get lost?” He asked. She nodded. 

“I was travelling using something called Floo? Anyways, I think I mispronounced Diagon Alley and ended up here.” She told him. He sighed. 

“Too many young uns have made the mistake o’ Flooing here instead of Diagon Alley.” He grumbled. Hagrid looked at his enormous watch. “Well, we better get goin. I have ter leave soon.”

Hagrid led her to a back door and through a bar crowded with old people. 

“Hagrid! The usual?” The bartender asked. He shook his head. “Not today, Tom. I’m bringing this one ter find her friends. She accidentally Flooed ter Knockturn Alley.” He said. 

Tom sighed and looked at her in concern. “That place is bad news. You alright?” He asked her. She nodded. “Well, this is the Leaky Cauldron. You ever get lost again, come here. We’ll help ya out.” He winked. 

A few wizards and witches raised their glasses. “Cheers to that, mate!” They laughed as Hagrid guided her to the back of the bar and pulled his umbrella out. 

He muttered a few words, tapping the brick wall as it shifted, becoming an entry. “Now this is Diagon Alley!” He grinned proudly as her eyes widened, greedily taking in her surroundings. 

“Saints, this place is beautiful!” She marveled as she ran to the shop closest to her. There were sleek and shiny broomsticks on display, which read ‘LATEST BROOMSTICK: FIREBOLT 2000!’ 

“Quality Quidditch Supplies. Best brooms there are, right here.” Hagrid told her. 

She watched Harry and the Weasleys play Quidditch as she and Hermione watched from the house. 

“A death trap, those brooms are. Mark my words, one of them is bound to fall off playing that dreadful game!” Hermione exclaimed. 

“ALINA!” Someone called frantically. She turned to the source of the sound. Mrs Weasley, accompanied by a very dirty Harry and pristine Weasleys and Hermione ran to her. She and Mrs Weasley hugged her tightly, crushing her lungs. 

“Erm, Mum? I think you’re squeezing her a little too tightly.” Ron observed. “Oh, sorry dear.” Mrs Weasley loosened her grip immediately and grabbed her face, searching for injuries. 

“Are you hurt? Where have you been? We’ve been looking for you for the past hour!” She exclaimed. Alina winced. “I’m sorry. I ended up somewhere called Knockturn Alley.” She apologised. 

Everyone gasped. “Cool!” Ron, Harry and the twins exclaimed. “Cool? That place is dangerous and horrible! She could have died there, for Merlin’s sake, and none of us would have known!” Hermione glared at them. 

“Quite right, Hermione. That alley is no place for a child.” Mrs Weasley agreed. 

Alina was about to point out that she was nineteen, and therefore legally an adult when Hagrid interrupted. 

“Well, it was nice seeing yer, kids. Try not ter get lost again, yah?” He asked Alina. She nodded thankfully. “Thanks for bringing me here.” She said gratefully. He grinned. “Anytime.”