Chapter XVIII: Diagon Alley

‘Tell me about Diagon Alley once more.’

Morgaine raised a questioning eyebrow at her daughter. ‘Once more? I bet you can draw a map of Diagon Alley in your sleep by now.’

‘Please?’

Who could resist the pleading look in those blue eyes, Morgaine wondered, and abandoned her packing to sit beside Demeter on the bed.

The girl was already tucked in. She had a big day ahead of her, leaving her childhood home and entering the Wizarding world for the first very time the next day. She needed a good night’s rest. But, understandably, she was far too excited to go to sleep.

‘We will be staying at the Leaky Cauldron,’ Morgaine started. ‘To enter Diagon Alley, we’ll have to go through the rear courtyard.’

‘And tap a brick in the wall,’ Demeter butted in, ‘which can be found by counting three up and two across, three times.’

‘I see you’ve been paying attention.’ Morgaine ruffled Demeter’s raven black hair. It was thick and silky. ‘Do you remember which shops we will pass on our way to Gringott’s?’

Demeter nodded eagerly. ‘The Cauldron Shop, the Apothecary, Flourish and Blotts, the Owl Emporium, the ...’

‘Breathe, little one.’ Morgaine smiled. The girl was so excited, and her enthusiasm was certainly infectious. ‘Tell me, Demeter,’ she asked, ‘if you could only go to one single shop, where would you want to go?’

‘Only one?’ Demeter’s eyes narrowed, and she seemed to be contemplating her mother’s question as if it were the most important one in the world. ‘I would want to go ... to Ollivander’s.’

‘And why is that?’

‘Because,’ Demeter started in a determined tone, ‘I cannot do magic without a wand. I will need a wand in every subject at Hogwarts: Charms, Transfiguration, Potions ... There’s no point in showing up without a wand.’

Morgaine nodded in approval. ‘A wise choice, little one. I have a feeling you might just be sorted into Ravenclaw House.’

‘Would you mind?’ All of a sudden, Demeter sounded anxious, and Morgaine looked at her in concern.

‘What do you mean, would I mind?’

Demeter started gnawing at her bottom lip. ‘You’re the Head of Slytherin House,’ she started carefully. ‘You were in Slytherin yourself, and so was Father. I thought ... well, I ... Am I not expected to be sorted into Slytherin as well?’

Morgaine fixed her daughter with an intense look. ‘It doesn’t matter to me which House you’re sorted into. All four Houses have admirable qualities, and wherever you end up, I will be proud of you.’ She would, indeed. But if it were up to her to make the Sorting Hat’s decision ...

‘Now, close your eyes and go to sleep. You have a big day ahead of you.’

The discussion about the Sorting was far from over, Morgaine knew that very well, but Demeter did not argue. She never did. Instead, she snuggled down, and Morgaine packed down the last of the girl’s possessions into a trunk before extinguishing the candles. She did not leave the room, however. She lingered by the door, leaning with her back against the wall, her eyes lingering on her daughter.

What House would the girl be sorted into, she wondered. As Head of Slytherin, Morgaine would be honoured to have the daughter of Severus Snape in her House. But as the girl’s mother, she was not sure if she was willing to take the risk.

Only when Demeter’s breathing had become slow and regular, and Morgaine was sure that the girl was fast asleep, did she sneak out of the room.

‘That wasn’t really the truth, was it?’

Morgaine quickly closed the door behind her and glowered at her grandmother. ‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ Her tone was harsh, but the old woman did not seem to mind.

‘Come, child,’ she said instead, extending her wrinkled hand. ‘I think some tea will do you good.’

~ ~ ~
‘You do mind which House Demeter will be sorted in, don’t you?’ Margaret followed up in the kitchen some minutes later.

Morgaine settled on a stool by the empty fireplace and started fiddling with the folds of her skirt, her eyes on her hands. All of a sudden, she was feeling miserable. ‘I’m sorry I snapped at you, Granny,’ she apologised.

‘Never mind, child. I must blame myself. Eavesdropping is a nasty habit and should be punished.’ Margaret put two steaming cups on the little coffee table and pulled up her chair so she came to sit right beside her granddaughter. ‘Like to share your worries?’

‘All of them?’ Morgaine sighed. ‘That will keep us up all night.’

Margaret smiled kindly. ‘I would love to hear about all of your concerns. But I know you won’t talk, and I have no plans of forcing you.’

Morgaine’s lips twitched into a tiny smile. ‘There is no Veritaserum in this tea then?’

Margaret shook her head. ‘It would take a very brave woman to try and trick the Potions mistress of Hogwarts. Or a very foolish one.’

The tea smelled of peppermint. Peppermint and honey. Definitely no Veritaserum, but it still loosened Morgaine’s tongue.

‘I could keep a close eye on Demeter if she were sorted into Slytherin,’ she started. ‘I could have the elves take care of her. And I am sure the Bloody Baron could be persuaded to look after her as well.’

‘Does Demeter need to be looked after?’

‘If she is sorted into Slytherin House, then yes.’ It was a vicious circle. The House in which Morgaine could protect her daughter the best was at the same time the House that posed the most danger.

‘There is a strange mood in Slytherin,’ Morgaine continued. ‘There are still children there who have been brought up with Death Eater beliefs, and some of them are convinced that the reign of Voldemort is not over yet.’

And some are waiting for the Heir of Slytherin, she added in her mind. But she couldn’t tell her grandmother. She did not want to worry her. Not yet anyway. Maybe it was all just propaganda. Maybe everything would work out just fine. No, there was no need to worry the old woman.

‘And what are you afraid of?’ Margaret asked. ‘That Demeter will listen to foolish tales and be misled? You and I both know that she is too smart for that.’

‘I know. I know.’ Morgaine put down her cup and rubbed her eyes. ‘I am tired, and I worry too much. Demeter will do fine whatever House she is sorted in.’ She attempted a grin. ‘Look at me. First one in our family who did not end up in Gryffindor. I still turned out alright, didn’t I?’ She waved her hand as to mark the end of the conversation and got up. ‘I have to finish packing my things. We’ll be leaving right after breakfast tomorrow.’

She accepted her grandmother’s embrace and then quickly made her way through the dark corridor towards her room. Once inside she locked the door, holding hard onto the doorknob and resting her aching head against the wood.

‘Stop worrying,’ she whispered to herself. ‘Demeter will do fine. Of course she will.’

~ ~ ~
It was a tear-filled goodbye. As much as Demeter was looking forward to starting her new life in the Wizarding world, taking farewell of her great-grandmother and the children in the village was not easy. But by the time her mother had explained how a Portkey worked, the girl had bravely wiped away her tears. And when their feet hit the wooden floor in their room at the Leaky Cauldron, Demeter’s face was glowing with excitement.

‘So we’re here now?’ she enquired. ‘Is this the Wizarding world?’ She never waited for her mother to answer but ran straight to the window. ‘That shop down there, is that the Apothecary? And that one, is that the cauldron shop?’

Morgaine placed a hand on her daughter’s shoulder to make her calm down. The girl was literarily jumping up and down with joy. ‘I assume me suggesting that we’ll go for a walk in Muggle London will not be well received?’

‘Are you kidding me?’ The girl swirled around and looked at her mother as if she had just suggested that the world was flat. And Morgaine couldn’t help but laugh.

‘I have a better suggestion then,’ she said. ‘We’ll do some window shopping on our way to Gringotts, and then you get to choose where to go.’

‘Ollivander’s,’ Demeter blurted out. ‘No, Flourish & Blotts. Or the Weasley shop. Or, or, ...’

‘The Apothecary, I think,’ Morgaine pointed out. ‘You, little one, need a Calming Draught.’

~ ~ ~
Morgaine walked a couple of feet behind Demeter as they made their way through Diagon Alley. Even if she had wanted to, she doubted that she would be able to keep up with the girl. She was like a whirlwind, darting from one shop window to the other, her smile growing broader by the second. Never, not under any Christmas tree in the world, had a child ever looked happier.

‘Well then, choose a shop,’ Morgaine repeated once they were standing outside the burnished bronze doors of Gringotts again.

Demeter, however, looked slightly puzzled. Whether it was due to her first meeting with a goblin or whether she was overwhelmed by her surroundings, Morgaine did not know.

‘Are you alright, little one?’ she asked and took the girl by the hand.

‘Mother, are we rich?’

Morgaine frowned slightly. That was not a question she had expected. Nor was it one she had ever thought much about. ‘Well, the duLacs are an old family, and we have accumulated some gold over the centuries. We’re not overly wealthy, but there is enough money in our vault to fulfil your wishes today. Now, tell me: where do you want to go?’

The choice was easy; Demeter had made it the night before, in her bed. The magical item she was longing for the most was a wand.

The Ollivander’s shop was tiny and shabby, very much like had been many years ago, when Remus had brought Morgaine there to purchase her first wand. Her only wand, to be precise. Nine and a half inches. Birch and dragon heartstring. She had never even thought about replacing it. It had always served her well.

Demeter looked up and down the thousands of boxes that were piled up along the walls, some piles actually reaching up to the ceiling. ‘However can anyone find the right wand here?’ she whispered.

‘No one needs to find their wand, dear child,’ came a soft voice out of the dark. ‘The wand finds the wizard. Or in your case, the witch.’

Ollivander looked ancient. His white hair was so thin that it could just as well consist of cobwebs. And the way he narrowed his silvery eyes made Morgaine wonder if his glasses were actually doing him any good or if his eyesight had become so bad that he had a hard time seeing his customers. But he still had the same kind smile.

‘I assume that I cannot interest you in a new wand, isn’t that so, Morgaine of the Lake?’ he started the conversation.

‘There is no point in replacing a wand that works perfectly alright, is there, Master Ollivander?’

The old man fixed her with his misty eyes, and Morgaine felt her heart skip a beat. Did he know that she, now and then, had problems casting even the simplest of spells? No, surely, he could not know. And even if he did, it wasn’t any of his business. And Morgaine had no intentions of discussing that particular topic anyway. Instead, she pointed towards Demeter, who was still standing in the middle of the room, taking in her surroundings with big eyes.

‘It’s my daughter who will be purchasing a wand today, Mr Ollivander. It’s her first.’

Ollivander let his eyes travel over the girl. ‘Your daughter ... and Severus Snape’s,’ he stated.

‘Does that matter?’ Morgaine enquired, and Ollivander shook his head.

‘No, dear. It doesn’t.’ He pulled out his tape measure and marched towards Demeter. ‘Which is your wand arm?’ he asked.

Demeter looked slightly taken aback. ‘I ... I am right-handed, sir,’ she explained. ‘But when I tried my mother’s wand, I picked it up with my left hand.’

‘Peculiar,’ Ollivander muttered. ‘Very peculiar.’

The tape measure measured Demeter from top to toe and from the left to the right while Ollivander rummaged through his shelves, pulling out boxes, putting some of them on the counter and putting others back onto the shelf after having checked the tape measure. When it crumpled into a heap on the floor, there were but three boxes lying on the counter.

‘I’d like you to try this one first,’ Ollivander said. ‘Birch and phoenix tail father, ten and a half inches.’ He held out the slender wand towards Demeter. ‘Give it a wave.’

The sparks that erupted from the wand’s tip were almost not noticeable, and Ollivander quickly held out the next. ‘Ebony and dragon heartstring, ten inches.’

Again, some tiny sparks, but not enough to make Ollivander happy. However, he seemed somewhat reluctant when he handed Demeter the third wand. ‘Yew and unicorn hair,’ he said. ‘Eleven inches.’

Green and gold sparks shot from the tip as Demeter waved the wand through the air and reflected in her blue eyes. ‘It’s beautiful,’ she exclaimed. ‘And it feels perfect in my hand. Mr Ollivander, is this the right wand for me?’

The old man nodded slowly. ‘A peculiar combination,’ he said. ‘Yew and unicorn hair. Tell me child, do you like flowers?’

Demeter nodded, and Ollivander took the wand from her hand, putting in carefully back into its box. ‘I’d say we can expect high grades in Herbology from you, young lady. Professor Sprout will be proud of you.’

~ ~ ~
‘How is everyone, George?’

Morgaine and George Weasley were overlooking the shop from the big window in George’s office. There were customers aplenty, as usual, and Morgaine had long since lost sight of Demeter, who was exploring the wonders of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes.

‘They’re all doing great. Breeding like bunnies, most of them actually.’ George grinned mischievously. ‘Only Charlie is still unkissed. I heard the last girl who tried to snatch him was eaten alive by a Swedish Short Snout.’

Morgaine snorted but quickly became serious. ‘And how are you, George?’ she asked, putting her hand on the man’s forearm.

‘I’m a proud father of two and an adored husband. Can’t ask for more, can I?’

George sounded truly happy, and his smile was as cheerful as ever, but Morgaine had not missed how his eyes had flicked towards the wall behind her. She knew that there was a portrait of Fred hanging there, overlooking the shop. And she sensed that there wasn’t a day when George did not miss his brother. But she also sensed that he did not want to talk about it. And as she knew all too well how George was feeling, she let the topic rest. For the time being, anyway.

He showed her his latest shipment of Love Potions and asked her about her opinion as a Potions mistress before he gave her the grand tour of the shop.

They found Demeter examining a Skiving Snackbox, and with her was a blond-haired boy whom Morgaine knew well by now.

‘Are you two thinking about skiving off already before the start of term?’ she asked in her best teacher’s voice.

At once, Melvin put the box he had been holding back onto the shelf. ‘P... Professor duLac,’ he stammered. ‘I ... I would never ...’

‘Tut, tut, young man, letting yourself get caught by your Head of House? Tragic.’

Melvin blushed and stared at his uncle who had just walked around the corner. ‘But I ...’

Alek tried to look serious but failed miserably. ‘Now I will have to invite your Head of House to lunch in order to persuade her not to give you detention already before term commences.’ He smiled as Morgaine. ‘Or do you have other plans?’

‘Actually, I do,’ Morgaine replied, smiling as well. ‘I was planning to take my daughter to Fortescue’s for some ice cream.’

‘Your daughter?’ Alek’s eyes lingered for a moment on Demeter. ‘Yes, I should have figured that out on my own. The eyes ...’ He winked at Demeter and the turned back towards Morgaine. ‘You know, in certain countries, ice cream is considered to be lunch. How about I invite you both then? We fill the children with sugar, and you and I can discuss how Melvin can get out of that detention.’

It was a warm day, and Melvin and Demeter carried their ice cream bowl outside to sit in the sun. They had been unable to decide on which flavour to choose, so Alek had ordered them a huge bowl with every flavour Fortescue had to offer complete with whipped cream and sprinkles that changed colours every now and then. Now the two children sat on either side of the bowl, each armed with a spoon and happily munching away.

‘Now there is a teenage romance waiting to happen,’ Alek pointed out as he handed Morgaine her bowl. ‘It would almost be a shame to disturb them. How about you and I sit inside? We can keep an eye on them and still give them their space.’

Morgaine smiled. The two children seemed indeed to be getting along splendidly. Not only were they sharing a huge bowl of ice cream, they were also chattering quite happily. And Melvin hadn’t blushed once.

‘What are you having anyway?’ Alek enquired as he and Morgaine sat down by the window. ‘Pistachio and ...?’

‘Liquorice.’

‘Liquorice?’ Alek seemed appalled. ‘That’s sounds disgusting enough to make me want to try it.’ And without asking for permission, he dived into Morgaine’s bowl. When he realised what he was doing, he promptly blushed. ‘Forgive me, I was raised in a barn. I have no manners whatsoever,’ he apologised.

Morgaine grinned. ‘That’s alright. Are you having anything good in your bowl?’ she asked and craned her neck.

‘Vanilla and chocolate. I’m seriously boring when it comes to ice cream. But if you like vanilla and chocolate ...’

He pushed his bowl towards Morgaine, but she declined with a small shake of her head.

‘No, I wouldn’t try it either,’ Alek pointed out, wrinkling his nose at his own choice. ‘But as long as I am already making a bad impression ... I couldn’t help but notice ... Demeter ... dark hair, pale complexion ... Is she ...’

Morgaine slowly put down her spoon and looked straight into the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher’s hazel eyes. She had two choices now. One was to make him even more uncomfortable than he already was and let him ask the question himself. The other was to give him a straight answer. She chose the latter.

‘Yes, Alek,’ she said. ‘Demeter is Severus Snape’s daughter. And once she arrives at Hogwarts, everyone will know.’

---

A/N: I’d like to dedicate this chapter to my beloved grandmother. Like Margaret she has a blend of tea for every occasion in her cupboard. Surprisingly enough, it helps most of the time. She also firmly believes in the healing power of ice cream. Love you, Granny.