Claire had awoken with a start as her door was slammed open harshly. When she turned in her bed to look at who was standing there, she rubbed her eyes, and then saw Mr. Malfoy, her parents’ long-time friend, with a letter in his hand. Mr. Malfoy was tall, especially compared to the 12-year-old who lay in her bed still half-awake in confusion, and his silvery blonde hair was tied back with a little black ribbon. Claire sat up, pushing some of her dark brown hair from her eyes.

     “This came in today, through owl,” Lucius Malfoy stated, lifting the letter to give Claire a better view of it. Her dark brown eyes scanned over to the letter slightly before meeting Mr. Malfoy’s gaze once more. “Didn’t think it was possible, really. What with your lack of… Magical abilities. Seems you haven’t disgraced your last name after all.”

     Claire watched him as he sat the letter down on her wooden desk, never taking his eyes off of her. It was sometime before he spoke again. 

     “I want you washed and dressed, and then downstairs in twenty minutes. Breakfast is soon, and, well, you’re going to Diagon Alley.”

     “B-By myself?” Claire questioned, her voice soft. 

     “No, you silly girl. Your parents wouldn’t be thrilled about that, no,” Mr. Malfoy paused, only to take a quick peek at her white-and-reddish coloured cat who was sleeping on the edge of her bed. “No, you’ll be going with us… And, do get that beast off the bed. It doesn’t belong up there.”

     Claire watched Mr. Malfoy leave her room, the door still open, then turned her attention to her cat, who was now awake. 

     “Don’t listen to him, Fennick,” She said, scooping him up as he started purring. “You definitely belong on the bed with me. He’s just a meanie.”

     She got off her bed, Fennick still in her arms, and walked bare-footed across the polished wooden floor to her desk. The letter was sitting on top of some stacked books (Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them by Newt Scammander, and Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk). After Fennick dropped from her arms to the floor, she picked up the letter and looked at it. Her heart was soaring. She knew she wasn’t a Squib; she felt the magic inside. Little, though it was.

     Claire had realised she was just a late bloomer when she was so mad at Draco — the Malfoy’s son — that when they were in the house having a physical fighting match, something with a greyish glittery-like powder had fallen from the top of the fireplace  and onto his head. Of course this resulted in Claire getting a huge lecture about how disgraceful it was that a Gaunt would be fighting a Malfoy, and that she had better straighten up, but only Claire had noticed the peculiarity of it.

     With a big, crooked grin she finally tore it open, and revealed two pieces of parchment. 

     The first one read:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Headmaster: 

Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,

Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

     Dear Miss Gaunt, 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st. We await your own by no later than July 31st.

     Yours Sincerely,

                                                                            Minerva McGonagall

                                                                            Deputy Headmistress

      Excitement coursed through her like it had never done before. Hogwarts. She had finally been able to be accepted into Hogwarts. She looked at Fennick, a smile plastered on her face. Then, she turned back to the letter, and shuffled them to expose the second piece of parchment behind the letter. 

     This one red:

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

 COURSE BOOKS:

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 2) by Miranda Goshawk

Break with a Banshee by Gilderoy Lockhart

Gadding with Ghouls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Holiday with Hags by Gilderoy Lockhart

Travels with Trolls by Gilderoy Lockhart

Voyages with Vampires by Gilderoy Lockhart

Wanderings with Werewolves by Gilderoy Lockhart

Year with the Yeti by Gilderoy Lockhart

OTHER EQUIPMENT:

1 Wand

1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 Set glass or crystal phials

1 Telescope

1 Set brass scales

STUDENTS MAY also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad. 

     After reading the letter, Claire put it back on her stacked books, and looked back at Fennick. 

     “You get to come too Fennick, it says so in the letter! ‘Students may also bring an owl or a cat or a toad’.” Claire gave a giggle as Fennick meowed in answer. “Anyway, I better get ready. I don’t want Mr. Malfoy getting mad again.”

     Dressed in her coral pink robes, she braided her hair to the side, put on a kids’ sized witches’ hat with a ribbon wrapping around the brim, slipped on some flats, and walked out of the room with her letter in her hand with Fennick was close behind her. As soon as she stepped off the last step of the wide marble staircase, she felt her letter get snatched from her hand, and a blur of silvery blonde sped past her. At first, her heart raced, thinking it was Mr. Malfoy, but when said blur had stopped to face her, she saw who it was. 

     Although he had a similar pale, pointy face, with silver blonde hair and grey eyes as his father, Claire’s fear went to annoyance as she realised it was no one but Draco Malfoy, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy’s son. She went to snatch the letter back, but Draco had already moved away as he started reading her letter aloud.

     “‘Dear Miss Gaunt, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry’... Been accepted have you?” Draco taunted. Claire watched his eyes look at her momentarily before looking back at her letter. “‘Please find enclosed…’ Wait. Why do you have my year’s list?”

     “I don’t know Draco, but give it back!” Claire pleaded, her voice cracking lightly as she went to reach for her letter once more. 

     Although this time, despite it being yanked away from her, it was yanked away from Draco. Claire and Draco’s attention both turned to the other party. It was Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Narcissa — Mrs. Malfoy — was holding the letter, and her eyes were narrowed. 

     “Enough of this nonsense,” Mr. Malfoy said. He turned to Mrs. Malfoy, who was reading the letter. “I think we’re ready, my dear. We’ll see you in a couple hours.”

     “But, father, she’s never been to Hogwarts or shown magic! How is she in second-year?” Draco asked as Claire followed the family towards a fireplace on the left side of the wall. 

     “Well, I would assume her age, Draco. Her age, and the fact she was a, how should I say, late-bloomer,” Mr. Malfoy said, grabbing the Floo Powder from its spot on top of the hearth. “Now, grab a handful if you please. I would like to get your stuff and be home as quickly as possible.”

     Claire watched as Draco went first as he stood inside the fireplace. She heard him say “Diagon Alley”,  watched as he threw the powder in his hands down, and his body engulfed in green flames a second before it evaporated, and Draco no longer standing there. This time, Claire had grabbed some of the powder, and stood in the fireplace where Draco had once stood. To say her nerves were high, was an understatement. 

     She took a breath.

     “Diagon Alley!” She threw the powder down at her feet, and the emerald green flames burst over her body. 

     Warmth spread over her as her eyes closed, and her elbows were tucked in close to her side. As she went, there was a loud roaring noise, and the feeling of spinning at a very fast speed. But all that lasted for a few seconds before she opened her eyes, and was standing in a fireplace inside a pub. Sitting at one of the tables was Draco. His cheek in his palm, watching the fireplace. Claire simply ignored him as she stood to his side, picking at her fingernails. 

     She heard the Floo once more before she finally looked up and saw everybody present. Claire then followed Draco and his parents to the back of the pub, and stood in front of a brick wall. There, Claire watched as Mr. Malfoy took his wand out of his cane, tapped a brick three times, and, as he put his wand back inside, saw the brick wall spring to life as it parted. 

     In front of her now, was a big shopping area full of stores, and all kinds of witches, wizards, and their families shopping. She could hear owls hooting, and the smell of food shops. It never ceased to amaze her every time she’d have to come here. 

     “Now,” Mr. Malfoy started, looking back at Claire and Draco. “I have business to attend to, so do stay out of trouble. I’ll see you at Flourish and Blotts.”

     Claire was given a bag full of money, and watched Draco follow his father away from her. Finally by herself, she ran off to the first shop she could think of;

     Mr. Ollivanders. The one place she had heard of when Draco came back last year with his new wand. A place she’d never thought she’d ever visit, until today. When she reached the shop, she couldn’t help but pause and take it in. A grin on her face, ear to ear. Then, with a bound, she opened the door and was greeted by a little metal bell ringing when the top of the door hit it. In the back, she heard a commotion. 

     “Be with you in a moment!” A man said. 

     And a moment it was, for when he walked out, Claire saw him. It was an elderly man with grey hair, and semi-round spectacles on. He smiled, and Claire couldn’t help but smile back. The excitement was just too great for her. 

     “Hi! My name’s Claire Gaunt,” She said in a bubbly tone. “I-I’m here for a wand?”

     “My, my. Never thought another Gaunt would present themselves in this shop again!” The man said happily. “Where are my manners? The names Mr. Garrick Ollivander, at your service,” he bowed, then looked at Claire with a smile, “But you can call me Mr. Ollivander, please.”

     Claire giggled, giving a little curtsey in return. 

     “Now then, Miss Gaunt,” Mr. Ollivander started, looking through the boxes for a wand. “First year, are you? Excited?”

     “Oh, yes!” Claire said, her head nodding enthusiastically. “But, I’m not a first-year, sir, No. I’m a second-year.” 

     Mr. Ollivander had just grabbed a box from a middle shelf when he paused to look at her. His thick brows raised in amazement. 

     “A first time student starting in second? How extraordinary,” He said, finally opening the box and handing her the wand. He smiled. “Give it a try. Just a little wave will do.”

     And wave she did. However, when she waved it, nothing happened. She blinked a couple times before turning it around in her hand, looking at the light-wood coloured wand. Then, she looked over at Mr. Ollivander, who simply smiled, grabbed the wand, and gently placed it back in its long, rectangular box.

He then searched for another. Claire watched him for a few seconds, fiddling with the sleeve of her robes, noticing that he had finally found another long, rectangular box. 

     When he opened it, it was another wand that Claire was handed. And with another wave, something did happen; from the tip of the wand came a few sparks that lamely fell to the ground, and dissolved before ever touching it. Claire’s shoulders slumped, but her enthusiasm sprung once again when she was handed yet another wand. This time, after she waved, a red blast came from the end of the wand, and hit Mr. Ollivander’s desk, causing papers and other miscellaneous things to fly about. 

     “Nope. Definitely not,” Mr. Ollivander said, taking the wand quickly and placing it back into his box.

     Wand after wand after wand. It was like a never ending cycle, and Claire was starting to feel her enthusiasm slip. After her seventh wand, Claire gave a groan of frustration. 

     “I thought picking a wand would be easy!” She said, “This is so… Frustrating!”

     “Well, my dear, it’s as I say,” Mr. Ollivander started, taking yet another wand out for her to try. Claire reluctantly took it. “It’s the wand that chooses the witch or wizard, not the other way around.”

     Claire looked at him, confusion on her face. “Wait, wands are alive?”

     “In a sense. They’re not alive like you and me, see, we Ollivanders use Unicorn hairs, Phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons as powerful magical cores with different types of woods. No two wands are the same, just like no two beings,” Mr. Ollivander explained. “When getting a wand, the magic you have reacts to the magic inside the wand. And the wand will either react badly, or positively. And that, Miss Gaunt, is how the wand chooses its witch or wizard.”

     Feeling a refreshed sense of enthusiasm, Claire nodded. She gave the wand in her hand a wave, and suddenly, a string of colourful beams seemed to shoot out of the end of the wand, and there was warmth in her fingers that made its way through her entire body down to her toes. 

     “Wonderful!” Mr. Ollivander said with a cheer, grabbing the wand to package it up. “Willow wood, unicorn core, nine and a half inches, and slightly yielding. That’ll be 7 Galleons if you please, Miss Gaunt.”

     “Oh! Right!” Claire said, reaching into her pouch of money. 

     She pulled out seven round gold coins, and placed them on Mr. Ollivanders desk, then grabbed her packaged-up wand. Her heart thumped out of her chest in excitement. With another “thank you” to Mr. Ollivander, she rushed out the door and headed to her next shop; Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.

     The trip to Madam Malkin’s was less adventurous than picking up her wand, but Claire still enjoyed it. She managed to buy three new school robes, which were just plain black, a matching pointed hat, and a black winter coat with silver fastenings. After paying for those, she had set off to get her dragon hide protective gloves, her set of glass phials, a telescope, and a single set of brass scales. Once that was done, she made her way towards the ice cream shop called Florean Fortescue’s Ice-Cream Parlour. 

     This shop was small, but cosy with booths, and single tables inside. On the wall, on the other side of the room, was an unlit fireplace, and a bar on the left side where people sat to enjoy their ice creams, and shakes. She reached the counter and ordered a simple vanilla ice cream with hot fudge on top. She paid, and went outside and sat down on the bench that was right beside the door. Claire watched as the magical world around her buzzed with life. 

     Something about today was different from her normal trips, and she deduced it to be the fact that she was here, not as a visitor for Draco or his parents, no. She was here for herself. For her school supplies. With a little wiggle of her body, and a smile on her face, she took a bite of her ice cream. The cold, creamy dessert tasted wonderful in the summer heat. 

     Claire sat in two minutes of peace, eating her ice cream before she heard the loud laughing of people coming her way. She looked to where the noise was, and there, her heart leapt. There were three kids her age walking towards the parlour; one was a small boy with dark hair, green eyes, and round spectacles. He seemed very thin, as if he never ate enough, and some of his clothes were baggy on him. She deduced he was either Muggle born, or half-blood. The next one was on his left, and he was tall and thin with big hands, big feet, red hair, blue eyes and freckles. His robes seemed shabby, almost hand-me-down like, but nothing too crazy. 

     Then, the next one was a girl. She had big, bushy brown hair, brown eyes, and when she laughed, Claire could see the girl had rather large front teeth. By the way she dressed, Claire deduced that she, too, was either Muggle-born, or a half-blood. However, when the boy with dark hair had looked her way, if only briefly, Claire turned her attention back to her ice cream, refusing to look back into the direction of the group. 

     When they all went inside the parlour, Claire took her chance, got up, threw her half-eaten ice cream away, and darted away from the parlour. Her next destination was Flourish and Blotts. However, trying to even walk into the bookstore was hard. Claire had pushed and shimmed her way past people who were crowding the way, while trying to consult her school supply. After a minute of struggling, she managed to find one of the workers. 

     “E-Excuse me,” She said, pulling on the robes sleeve of the worker. “Can  you help me find these books?”

     “Sure thing missy,” the worker said, making his own way through the crowd with Claire following behind. “‘Ere you are, love.”

     Claire held out her hands, and the man proceeded to put the books in her hand. She thanked him, and turned to make her way to the line when she bumped into somebody, almost knocking her books out of her hands. 

     “Sorry,” said the voice. Claire looked up, and there, her face went pink. It was the dark haired boy with the pretty green eyes. 

     “I-It’s okay,” She stuttered, trying to get her composure. “Are you okay? Being bumped into by books doesn’t sound nice.”

     He shrugged with a shy, awkward smile. “I’m fine.”

     “What’s your name?” Said the girl with the bushy brown hair. “I’m Hermoine Granger, this is Ron –” she paused, pointing over to the red-headed boy, who gave a goofy, lopsided grin with a wave before pointing back to the dark-haired boy “–And this is Harry Potter.”

     “Harry Potter, huh? Well, nice to meet you guys. I’m Claire, I’m—”

     But before Claire could answer any further, a young red-headed girl came over, pulling Ron’s arm to get his attention. 

     “Mum’s waiting over there. Let’s go.” She said, and this led to a quick farewell of the quick meeting. 

     Harry Potter. The name the whole of the wizarding world knows. The name that Claire was happy to have heard, seen, and met all in one day. With a nod, and another smile (she felt like her cheeks were hurting her by now), she made her way to the line. It was there that she had the unfortunate luck of Draco finding his way to her. 

     “Was that Granger, Weasley, and Potter you were talking to?” Draco asked. “Don’t go talking to them. They're the wrong sort to be with at Hogwarts. Father would even tell you that.”

     For once, in her time since she was left alone in Diagon Alley, her smile vanished. 

     “So?” Claire said, not daring to look at Draco. “You’re not my dad. I can talk to whoever I want.”

     “You’re a Gaunt,” Draco responded, his annoyance visible. “You’re of pure-blood status! Your father wouldn’t like it if you were talking to Mudbloods!”

     “I’ll make friends with whoever I please!” Claire said, her voice getting loud. But at that moment, the crowd got louder than her as a commotion started upfront. 

     Claire and Draco moved through the crowd to get a better look. Claire’s heart skipped once more, and her face flushed with pink again. Harry was standing, pretty awkwardly, upfront next to a man with wavy blonde hair and blue eyes. The man’s smile was wide, showing straight, pearly white teeth as the light of a camera flashed. She then heard the man speak. 

     “When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I will now give him, free of charge,” the man said as the crowd applauded. “He had no idea that he would get much, much more than my book Magical Me, ladies and gentlemen. Yes, I, Gilderoy Lockhart,  have the great pleasure of announcing that this September, I shall be taking up post for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

     Claire scrunched her nose. Well, she now knew who Gilderoy Lockhart was, considering most of his books were on her list. She watched as Harry was handed a heavy amount of books, forced to take one more picture with Gilderoy, and then headed off the stage. She then saw Draco move from her side, and move in front of Harry, blocking his way out. 

     “Draco!” Claire hissed, grabbing his arm, but Draco simply shook her off. His smirk growing on his pale face.

     “Can’t help but have the spotlight, can you, Potter?” He spat. Claire saw Harry’s face contort in anger as the pair looked at each other. “The famous Harry Potter. Can’t even go to a bookshop without even making the front page.”

     “Leave him alone! He didn’t want all that!” The red headed girl said strongly, her eyes glaring at Draco. 

     Draco sneered. “Look, Potter went and got himself a girlfriend!”

     “Draco!” Claire hissed loudly, but that went ignored as she saw Ron and Hermoine join Harry. 

     “Oh, it’s you,” Ron said with a look as if something nasty was on the bottom of his shoe. “Bet you’re surprised to see Harry here, eh?”

     “Not as surprised as I am to see you here, Weasley,” Draco drawled tauntingly. “Bet your family’s going to go hungry for a month having to buy all these books.”

     Claire stepped in between the two boys as soon as she saw Ron, who went red, started for Draco. To her rescue, another man had joined now. He, too, had red hair despite seemingly going bald, blue eyes, spectacles, and was tall and thin like Ron. Claire assumed this must have been Ron’s and the red headed girls’ father. 

     “Ron!” The man called out. “What are you doing? Let’s go outside, it’s too crowded here!”

     But just as Claire backed away from Draco and Ron, her back bumped against somebody. When she looked up, she saw Mr. Malfoy. His pale hand made contact with both Claire’s and Draco’s shoulder. His face was just as sneering as Draco’s. 

     “Well, well, well – Arthur Weasley,”

     The red headed man, Arthur Weasley, nodded. “Lucius.”

     “Busy time at the Ministry, I hear,” Mr. Malfoy said, a hint of taunt in his voice. “All those raids… They’re paying you overtime?”

     Claire watched as Mr. Malfoy reached into the girl’s cauldron, and extracted, amidst Gilderoy’s new-looking books, a very old and battered copy of Beginners Guide to Transfiguration. 

   “Well, clearly not,” Mr. Malfoy said once more, dropped the books back into the cauldron with a thud against the metal. “Dear me, what’s the point of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they won’t even pay you for it?”

     “We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name, Malfoy,” Mr. Weasley said, the conversation continuing. His face was flushed red, and his teeth were grit together.

     “Clearly,” Mr. Malfoy said, looking over to Hermoine, and presumably her parents. “The company you keep, Weasley… And I thought you couldn’t sink any lower—”

     In a blur, and the sound of metal thunking to the ground, Mr. Weasley had launched himself at Mr. Malfoy, knocking him into a bookshelf. Claire was pulled back from the fight by two older, identical looking boys with red hair. One of them was cheering on — what Claire assumed was — their father, while a woman who was plump and,  unsurprisingly to Claire at this point, had red hair, and brown eyes came running towards the scene, yelling “No! Arthur no!” while somebody else came following behind her in the sea of books and people.

     This man was big, almost giant-like, with a bushy black beard, long black hair, and beady black eyes. 

     “Break it up, gents, break it up—” the giant man said, pulling both Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Weasley away. 

     Claire felt Mr. Malfoy’s hand on her shoulder, almost as if crushingly, and felt him harshly lead her and Draco out of the shop without another word to the Weasley family. To say the trip to Diagon Alley was busted, would have been a lie.

     Despite the fight in the end, and the silence on the way home, Claire was happy.