What a real witch needs
The next days were horrible uneventful. Some days after the beginning of August suddenly there was a strict – looking witch wearing a blue cloak standing in the middle of our glade one late morning. Careful I sneaked off to her and sniffed. Brimstone, old ruins, parchment, no danger, not immediately.
"Good morning, Rosalie. You have to be Rosalie for sure you're looking very similar to your father. I am Minerva McGonagall, headmistress of Hogwarts. I'd like to ask you, if you want to come with me to Diagon Alley"
"I do not have any money" I said and straightened myself up.
"Ah, it's better like this. You should act a bit more – well – human, while you're at Hogwarts. Want to go then?" she asked and showed me her arm. I looked at it very carefully, but took it.
The next moment I got jerked of my feet. I gulped and felt like being stocked in a very tight tree. Shortly afterwards it was over. We stood in the shadows of a side road.
"Here, you should put it on" said McGonagall and handed a red coat to me, that I put over the a little disrupted clothes I was wearing. Well, maybe more than a little. My pullover showed great parts of that what was underneath but my underwire bra was still intact. Also my trousers had more holes than cloth and I never wore shoes. McGonagall also handed me some glasses, which I put on with a look full of questions.
"What is it good for?"
"They're bewitched and hide your eyes. For all others they do now seem to be blue"
"Ah, well then" I said and followed Professor McGonagall out on the busy road. We went into a pub and left it through its backdoor again. I already hated those glasses.
"Isn't there another possibility for my eyes?" I snarled and put the glasses of angrily, while McGonagall was tipping her wand at a brick above the rubbish bin.
"Of course there is another one. A confusion-spell would be possible. It makes your eyes look a different colour than they have for others. For sure you have to redo it every morning"
"Even better than this damned glasses" I mumbled. McGonagall told me the incantation and said she'd do it for me today, because I didn't have an own wand by now.
"Because of you're not having your own money, the school is lending you some. You cannot buy all things new with it for sure. I think we should buy your wand at first, because it's the most expensive thing on our list" said McGonagall and managed our way through jam-packed Diagon Alley. I could smell sweat, dirt and sometimes the excreta of birds. I wrinkled my nose. I didn't like that smell. Hopefully Hogwarts would smell different.
I entered Ollivander's and sniffed enquiring: wood, blood, some kind of magical glue and old man, interesting. Mr Ollivander was scraggy, old and had big, grey eyes sparkling in the light of some few candles.
"Ah, an extraordinary client you're taking here, Professor McGonagall" he said coming out of the back of his shop.
"Maybe you're right, Ollivander. What about her wand?"
"Very well, which is your wand arm Miss…?"
"Delgrey, Sir. I used to write with my left hand" I answered.
"As I said, extraordinary" he said and vanished between the racks. He came back and handed me a wand.
"Try this one. Holly and phoenix feather eleven inches" he said. The wand was pale and speckled. I didn't like it and it doesn't like me. I brandished it and made the sales counter brake into a thousand pieces.
"Cleary no!" Mr Ollivander assessed "What about this one: elm, heartwood, heartstring of a dragon, twelve inches"
The wand reddish brown and was nice to hold in your hand. A strange wind suddenly came up as I took it from Mr Ollivander.
"Ah, this one seems to be the right" said McGonagall and paid it from a second back she put out of her cloak. We left the shop and bought all other things. Afterwards she brought me back to Gwydyr and promised me to come back at the first of September to take me to the Hogwarts – Express.