March- 1972
Monday, 27 March, 1972
Regulus didn't feel any older. In fact, he felt the exact same as he had a day, a week, a month, even a year ago. And he was sure he would feel the exact same a day, a week, a month, and even a year from now.
When does someone start to feel older?
Was it instantaneous, and he would wake up one day suddenly feeling much, much more mature? Or was this a normal experience, and the process of aging and getting wiser was just incredibly slow and gradual. If that was the case, the concept of "old" was entirely relative. Sure, eleven years was a long time, but not nearly as long as thirty.
Whether he felt it or not, Regulus was now an entire year older.
Birthdays weren't exactly a big deal at Grimmauld Place. They never had parties or cakes or things of that sort. They rarely even invited family over to celebrate the occasion. On the off chance that they did have people over, it was limited to their aunts, uncles, and cousins. Nothing like the grand and glamorous galas they often held for no reason every other day of the year.
Regulus hadn't minded, though— he and Sirius had always made their birthdays special, just the two of them.
That morning during breakfast, Walburga had come to tell him that he was to travel to Diagon Alley with Kreacher in search of his materials for school.
"I've given him a list of the basic necessities. Anything else you may require can be purchased at a later date."
"Will you not be joining us?", he had asked, stupidly. By the subtle shift of her expression, he knew she thought the same.
"I trust Kreacher will be able to assist you with any questions."
With that, she turned and left him to his devices.
They left around noon, opting for the Floo Network as Regulus was not a big fan of tag-along apparition. Arriving in an empty shop used solely for traveling, they stepped out into the bustling street.
Regulus was no stranger to Diagon Alley, yet every time he visited he was still amazed by the smallest things.
The whole place oozed at the seams with magic. People casting spells, testing products, and using enchanted items left and right. Parents chased children who in turn chased their siblings or friends. Hexes were fired, curses blocked— mostly friendly competition. Everywhere he looked he saw lively witches and wizards embracing their community.
He turned his attention to his house elf.
"Right. Now, where to begin?", he asked, eager to explore the shops.
"First things first", the house elf responded in a tone that could just pass as joyful. "The young Master must choose his wand."
"Well then, lead the way."
They walked a short distance to a store packed tightly between two larger buildings. Regulus held the door for the mother and son walking out, then for Kreacher before walking in himself.
Regulus gazed up, eyes wide, a small smile playing at his lips.
Stacked all the way up to the ceiling, along every wall, was an astronomical amount of thin, rectangular boxes. Each one had a small label printed on the end of it, listing what Regulus assumed to be the contents of each box. Behind the front counter, the room gave way to a small hall. Regulus could not imagine how many wands were kept in the back rooms of the store.
"Oh, how extraordinary!"
Regulus turned towards the stairs at the sound of the voice. A thin, elderly man with hair all white stood at the top of the staircase to his left. He slowly made his way down to the first floor.
"Another young Black come to find their wand, eh? Tell me, how much have you prepared yourself for what you'll face at Hogwarts?"
Regulus was unsure of how to answer the question. His mouth opened and closed wordlessly, trying to conjure a response.
"Uhm...", he blinked at the man now standing at the bottom step. "I...I guess a lot? I've read enough of the texts to—"
"Excellent", he cuts the boy off. "Excellent, excellent, excellent. Now, where have I..."
He crosses the room as he speaks, heading straight for the wall of boxes. He selects one quickly, pulling it out and carrying it over to the counter.
"Yes, this will do fine." He removes the lid, pulling out a dark, thin wand. "Beech wood, twelve inches, very sturdy."
He hands the wand over to Regulus, walking around the counter to be at his side.
"Go on, then. Give it a wave."
Regulus retreated a bit, shocked by the man's forwardness. He looked to Kreacher for reassurance, and the house elf nodded.
He shook out his shoulders, sighing a little. The wand felt foreign in his hand, similar to when Sirius had given him his wand to hold. He tried his best to get comfortable.
Pointing towards a lamp attached to one of the walls, he gave the wand a slight turn.
"Lumos."
The bulb inside of the lamp brightened to a nearly blinding degree before popping and immediately going dark again. Regulus shielded his face with his arms, afraid the glass would explode out at him.
"Of course, of course. I should've guessed, very obvious now..."
The wand was taken out of his hand and placed back in the box.
Regulus looked back to Kreacher, concern riddling his face.
"Is that supposed to happen?" he whispers.
"Kreacher saw the same thing with young Master Sirius. Very common, as Kreacher is aware."
Regulus feels himself relax a tiny bit.
The man is back, another box held in his wrinkled hands, continuing to mumble to himself.
"This may work just yet. Bit of a stretch, I believe, even so..."
He hands the wand over to Regulus, staring at him patiently.
The handle's intricate detailing reminds him of his fathers. Its wood is light, both in color and weight. He's more hesitant when he motions towards the next lamp, choosing one that has already been lit instead.
"Nox", he says, already preparing to protect himself once more.
The light extinguishes, then returns, then vanishes again, over and over, gaining speed and brightness until eventually bursting once more. This time, the glass casing covering the bulb shatters, sprinkling to the ground below it.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"Not at all, dear boy, not at all." He pulls out his own wand, giving it a wave. The glass disappears at once. "Very interesting, though. If not the length, then possibly..."
He leaves again, wand in tow.
It's a few minutes before he comes back, a surprising spring to his step given his age. He sets the newest box down and retrieves the wand from inside, once more handing it over.
"This wand, yes, this wand makes perfect sense. Crafted to work together wonderfully."
He slips his hand around the wand.
Already, it feels much better than the others had. The power radiates off of it, sending a wave of its essence up his arm and throughout his whole body.
The wood is a light brown, highlighted with white streaks. It was smooth along the head, then leading down to the base it was guarded by a set of parallel rings, with the handle covered in a thin criss-crossing pattern, and ended with another set of rings.
He's so busy admiring the craftsmanship he almost forgets to test how it works.
He raises the wand towards the counter, pointing it at one of the abandoned boxes.
"Accio box."
The box glides through the air, soaring into Regulus's open hand. He catches it easily, far more controlled than his previous spells had been.
He holds the box up for Kreacher to see, laughing with pride.
"Well done, young Master."
Regulus bows his head slightly, trying and failing to remain humble. "Thank you, Kreacher."
"Yes, yes, well done indeed."
The old man holds his hands out expectantly. Regulus hands over the wand and he places it back in its box, walking behind the counter.
"Willow wood, dragon string core, eleven and a quarter inches. I do say, this combination puts you in a very interesting position, very interesting. Brilliantly chosen, dear boy."
Kreacher steps forward, digging into a small velvet pouch tied to his wrist. He exchanges a few galleons for the wand, and they give a polite farewell before exiting.
The afternoon continues on, the boy and the house elf bouncing from store to store.
They purchase all of the books required for his courses, along with a cauldron and portions of the ingredients listed— though Regulus was sure they had more than enough back home. He gets fitted for robes, finding it very boring having to stand on a short podium while the seamstress moves around him, measuring and pinning wherever she sees fit.
Once Kreacher has checked off every item of the list given to him by his Mistress, they begin to head back towards the traveling checkpoint.
Halfway there, they pass by a shop with big glass windows displaying everything inside.
Regulus continues walking a few feet before noticing he's been abandoned. He stops, turning back around to look for Kreacher.
The house elf is stood in front of one of the windows, gazing inside.
"What is it, Kreacher?", Regulus asks, walking back to him. He looks to see what's caught his attention.
Directly behind the window is a tank filled with frogs. Further into the shop, lining the walls, are a number of cages. One side holds a collection of owls, while the other is dedicated to housing cats.
"Kreacher wonders if the young Master Regulus has remembered the contents of his letter." The house elf speaks while looking down at its bare feet.
"Yes, of course. What about it?"
There's a pause before he speaks again.
"Kreacher knows it's the young Master's birthday today", he says, slowly.
Regulus tilts his head in confusion. He looks back at the window, then seems to put two and two together.
"Kreacher," he says warmly, "would you be so kind as to allow me to buy my own pet?"
Kreacher nods, his long ears flapping enthusiastically. "Of course, young Master. Anything you wish."
They enter the shop and immediately begin choosing a candidate.
He doesn't think he'd enjoy having a toad. Besides the fact that they don't do much he imagines it would be a great pain having to tend to an animal that lived in a tank.
The owls on the other hand were useful, practical. Most wizarding families owned an owl simply for purposes of mail. Regulus had heard that they make great companions, both from books and from Sirius, who had chosen one as a pet when he was shopping for Hogwarts (though his hadn't been a present from their house elf— he had demanded he have one).
Despite all this, Regulus was wary of the owls. Frankly, they unsettled him quite a bit, what with their big bulging eyes and ruffling feathers.
No sir, an owl was not the animal for him.
He makes his way over to the selection of cats. He studies each one, watching the way they move about their enclosures. They come in a great variety: some big and some small, some old and some just little babies.
Regulus stops in front of one of the cases. Inside is a tiny kitten with orange, black, and white fur. It bats at a stuffed mouse laying on the ground. The kitten pauses, leans back, then dives on top of the toy, stomping it underneath its paws.
Regulus giggles, bringing a hand up to tap at the glass. The kitten abandons the mouse, looking out at the boy with clear blue eyes. He wiggles his fingers in front of the glass, and this time the cat jumps up, pawing back at him.
Regulus looks down at kreacher, a smile plastered on his face.
"This one."
The witch running the shop walks up behind him to look at the animal.
"Ah, excellent choice." She undoes whatever locks are securing the glass and reaches in to take the cat. She hands him over gently to Regulus.
He holds the kitten in his hands, careful not to drop it. The cat waves its front paws at him, opening its mouth in a tiny mew.
"His momma had him about a month ago. All his brothers and sisters have already been taken up."
She goes on to explain how to care for the creature, giving recommendations for its diet and daily exercise. Regulus listens intently, determined to take good care of his new friend.
As they make their way out of the shop, Kreacher poses an important question.
"What shall the young Master call it?"
Regulus looks down at the curled up ball of fur pressed close to his chest. His mind instantly goes to some of his favorite pieces of literature, drawing up names of different characters.
He grins.
"Theodore."