Chương 6: Ice Cream

I stepped out of Ollivanders and was met with McGonagall seated by herself at a small table outside the shop's window display. A vacant chair was situated opposite where she sat, and two bowls of ice cream were resting on the table. The setup wasn't there before, so it must have been something McGonagall summoned or transfigured while waiting.

"Finally finished, are you? And I see you got a wand." She eyed my box while waving me over.

"Come, sit." I did as she ordered and thanked her for the ice cream.

"Florean Fortescue's. Best ice cream in Britain. The muggle versions are catching up, but it's hard to outdo what can be achieved with magic."

"Thank you again, but do you have time for this Professor? You said you were in a hurry."

"I have time enough for this, Miss Parish. I've been guiding new students through their introductions to the magical world for some time now, and I find that after they get their wand is when it truly starts to set in." I nodded, touching the wand box, having it accept me… Magic… it was magical.

"It's a lot. My whole future going in a different direction from what I'd envisioned just yesterday." And that didn't even cover the half of it.

"I still don't want to be a bother. I did take a while to get my wand."

"Not as long as you would think. I've had more than one student come out of Ollivander's needing a wand custom built to fit the man's standards. Most wands will work just fine for anyone, but the pairing can make all the difference. Other wand makers don't even try to match the witch to the wand; they'll just ask what sort of wand the customer wants and leave it at that.

"The subtle differences and little bits of extra effort is where true mastery of any craft will begin, and many of the greatest wizards develop some… peculiarities, let's call it that. But it often behooves one to take those eccentricities as they come. Despite the strangeness, Ollivander is the best wand maker for a reason." She took another spoonful of ice cream and spent extra time savoring it.

"Relax, Miss Parish. There will be time enough later to stress about homework, exams, and the nature of life. For now; sit, enjoy life, be a child. Eat ice cream." She pointed at my untouched bowl with her spoon. Be a child. Was I being that obvious about how panicked my thoughts were? They kept returning to the upcoming war. The deaths. Could I afford to be a child? I breathed in, and exhaled. Things weren't as bad as I was making them out.

With all the danger in the books, it almost made me forget that Harry Potter' s ending was generally happy. The good guys won, the bad guys lost, and most of the important characters lived to the end. I didn't need to do anything, and things would work themselves out. I don't need to involve myself in the plot at all, and things will be acceptable. It might even be the smart move. I knew the ending, and it was good. Entering a fully written book was kind of like time-travel.

I didn't want to cause butterflies that would somehow make a decent end become far worse while chasing perfection. Many disasters have been caused through nothing but the best intentions.

'Don't fix what isn't broken'. Sit back and do nothing? Hide everything I know and pretend I didn't know anything more than a normal student? It had a certain pull to it. Could I hold myself back from interfering indefinitely? She was right that I had time to think it over. I took a spoonful of the ice cream. It was some sort of sherbet. Really good sherbet. Did sherbet count as ice cream? We sat in silence for a time, watching people pass by on their shopping, while we ate.

A wizard down the street stopped and scowled at us. He started stomping his way over, then clearly recognized Professor McGonagall, turned pale, and fled in the opposite direction. Setting up a table on the street might not be allowed, come to think of it, but McGonagall had probably taught half the people in Diagon Alley at this point. No one was brave enough to tell her off. I still need to be concerned about the basilisk.

Even if one or both of Lyra's biological parents were magical, without proof—and a background of being raised by muggles—I was going to be treated as muggle-born.

"Oh! I almost forgot, could you sign your Hogwarts letter for me to confirm your enrollment?" She summoned a quill and inkpot out of thin air, as well as a new letter; I'd left the one I received at the party back in my room. I looked at the fresh letter dubiously, something about her insistence felt a little suspicious.

"Is there such a thing as contract magic, Professor?"

"There is magic that becomes stronger when you can get a person's consent," she said slowly, with the air of someone expecting an argument "And by signing this letter you are agreeing to abide by the Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery."

"So I'm cursing myself by signing this." So this was the Trace then. Note to self: when I have more money, hire a person to sign all my documents and check all the 'I have read and understand the terms and conditions' buttons on my behalf.

"It is harmless. More of a charm than a curse. All it does is alert the Ministry when you cast magic in unwarded places. It's set up so it will wear off once you turn seventeen. Casting magic outside of Hogwarts as an underage witch is strictly prohibited; not only by Hogwarts rules but by wizarding law." This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there. She let out a sigh and continued.

"There are other ways of detecting magic use. How else do you think we identify new students such as yourself? Hogwarts attendance is a privilege, not an obligation, and the Ministry requires methods to monitor magical usage for children and teens who do not attend for whatever reason. If you refuse to sign, you will still be legally responsible for any magic you use, and you will need to sign to attend Hogwarts."

It sounded like highly magical areas and certain warding spells could be put up to stop the ministry from being alerted. I should look into those.

"I guess you don't normally want students to know about it."

"All students are made aware of the law. Though yes, linking the Trace to your acceptance letter is indeed something we would rather avoid most knowing." She gave me a significant look, clearly telling me not to tell others. I nodded to the unvoiced request.

"You are quite the perceptive individual, aren't you? Now ask yourself, does this really change anything? It's the same restriction either way, and if you do want to attend Hogwarts you need to complete your enrollment." She got me there; refusing to sign wasn't really an option. Moreover, while the Ministry was horribly corrupt, nothing in the books suggested it was truly malicious. There were also ways around it that I could abuse.

"Furthermore, it helps stabilize uncontrolled accidental magic. It won't prevent it completely if you're in danger or experience particularly powerful emotions, but it should help."

"So no more uncontrolled bursts? Alright, I'll sign it. Thank you for explaining things to me honestly." She gave me a gentle smile as I reached out and followed through. I think I just earned some extra points in her book for pretending my decision was based on how much trouble I was causing others. Nothing felt different after having signed. I sat back as she pocketed the letter.

"You don't have any boxes." I pointed out a while later; once she'd finished her dessert and set the spoon down.

"I took the liberty of dropping your supplies off at your orphanage. Apparition—which will be taught in your sixth-year—is difficult magic to learn, but the convenience is well worth it." She pulled out her wand and tapped the bowl. It disappeared instantly without a noise.

"I also stopped by Second-Hand Robes and picked out some things on your behalf. Your guardian suggested you may appreciate not being made to stand for extended periods of time?"

"Yes, I was in a coma for a time and suffered some atrophy. I'm recovering, but it'll still be a month or so before I have average leg strength." I was honestly surprised Ms Parish had thought to mention that. My mother had basically made it a point to forget everything about me that wasn't convenient to her. I finished my bowl and stood. McGonagall cleaned up with another flick of her wand. The table and chairs were quickly banished as well.

"That is good then. I managed to pick up some school robes for you that aren't too worn, and we saved a bit of time. One more stop to go, then you can head back home and rest up."

"One more stop, Professor?"

"Your guardian entrusted me with a small amount to get a little something extra for your birthday." I flinched a little and twisted to look at her. She gave me another gentle smile. That makes the third time today. The fox plushie, the robes, and now extra money—after already purchasing presents—to get a magical gift. Three times Ms Parish surprised me with kindness directed my way. They weren't the most extreme acts, but it was a lot to me.

"First-years are allowed to bring either an owl, a cat, or a toad. Though I don't recommend the last one; toads have been falling out of fashion for years now." She raised a stern eyebrow.

"So how about it?" I considered the question. Owls were objectively the most useful, but I didn't really have anyone to send letters to, at least not yet. Toads were gross on top of being unpopular. And cats… Memories from before I moved away from my family tried to surface. Memories I preferred to ignore. I didn't think I could stand to own another cat. In fact, owning any pet was probably too much. I forced myself to think about something else. The gift. I needed protection from the basilisk.

Was there something simple I could purchase to help in that area? An owl or cat should be somewhat costly, I could probably pick up a few cheap things as a replacement.

"We aren't allowed pets at Strawberry House, and even if they made an allowance for me, I'd have to find a way to pay for their upkeep. Could I get some simple enchanted items instead?"

"Simple enchanted items, oh? I think I know a place." She turned and set off down the street, with me hurrying to catch up again. Simple enchanted items. The options seemed endless. How far could I stretch the gift? Could I get something with significant utility? Something that would save my life if a giant evil snake comes for me? I was planning to tell Dumbledore after arriving at the school—he should be able to deal with the diary and the snake—but it was always better to have a backup plan.

More than one, when it came to matters of life and death.

"Here we are, Montague's Miscellaneous Magika. Admittedly not the highest quality spellwork in Diagon Alley, but they have a wide variety of simple, lasting enchantments." What's with wizards and alliteration? I wondered. Actually, now that I was thinking about it, there were several people at the House with alliterative names. Maybe it was just a thing in this world as a whole. Were there other differences in this 'non-magical' world and my old one?

"What kind of items?"

"Mundane items enhanced with simple magic mostly. Endless inkwells, spell-checking quills, alarm clocks, self-cleaning silverware, things like that. Nothing very expensive." Sounded like the wizard version of a dollar store or discount retailer. Alarm clocks? We entered the shop and I quickly set myself to searching. McGonagall stayed near the counter; giving me some privacy. I eventually returned with two items.

"Miss Parish," McGonagall said sharply after looking at my selection, "Explain."

"It's a mirror that can levitate and move around without my hands!" I said enthusiastically. I could use it to see around corners in the corridors once people started panicking. Seeing a reflection of the basilisk would still petrify me, but that was far better than dying. Ms Parish's gift might really just save my life.

"I was referring to the other item." If anything she grew even more stern. I held up two pink polished oval stones attached by a string.

"It's a personal alarm, Professor."

"A personal alarm?"

"Yes, the sales tag said it can be set up to start vibrating up to ten hours after being activated with simple taps of my wand! We sleep multiple people to a room at Strawberry House. Using a noisemaker would wake the whole dorm, but if I set this to go off when I want to wake up—it'll only wake me!" I gave her my best innocent smile.

"I've always been a light sleeper." It was true too; I was going to use it as an alarm. We'd be sleeping multiple people to a room at Hogwarts as well. If I wanted to get up in the middle of the night and sneak out, it was best not to wake potential witnesses. I wasn't ignorant of the other potential use of this item; the intended use, considering the other items near it on the shelf. Also, the very clear signs I 'accidentally' walked past that said 'no children past this point'.

They should really put up a magical age line or something. McGonagall still looked dubious, but I was much more used to this body now. In short preplanned bursts, I could easily maintain a deception. My face only revealed the ignorance of a young child; an innocent youth who had been very well behaved on this trip. The suspicion faded. She had a rather obvious internal debate, then let out an exhausted sigh.

"Those two items then? That should be within budget," she muttered. The cashier at Montague's looked very amused and clearly wanted to add something to the conversation he witnessed, but withered at McGonagall's glare. Embarrassment was temporary. Being unprepared could be permanent. I told myself The trip ended swiftly after that. Professor McGonagall dropped me off back at Strawberry House. Leaving me with one last warning not to use magic outside of Hogwarts and the consequences of trying.