𝘄𝗲𝗻𝗱𝘆, the marauders

03. DIAGON ALLEY

CHAPTER THREE
✧
-: bishop house orphanage :-

── IN WHICH WENDY VISITS
LONDON FOR THE FIRST
TIME

. . .

DIAGON ALLEY WAS, in a word, magical. It was hidden in London, and nobody would ever know it was there unless taken there. And Wendy had been lucky enough to be taken by McGonagall herself. They Apparated there just minutes after the young girl agreed to, a process that thoroughly churned Wendy's stomach and left her feeling lightheaded when they landed.

The awful conditions of the Apparating in itself seemed to only exacerbate the poor conditions Wendy was already in, and upon seeing the shock of paleness on herself, Professor McGonagall seemed to understood something of the 'illness' she had been going through.

"First, of course," she began, as she looked around the Leaky Cauldron, "we should have some lunch. It is particularly busy during this time and it would not do for you to faint amongst the hubbub. Apparition is a stomach-turning process in itself, I cannot imagine it being done having not eaten in a few days is easy."

And so Wendy was treated to a hearty meal, the best food she had eaten in such a long time, in a corner table of the Leaky Cauldron. She picked a soup, feeling as though it was the only thing she could stomach, and Professor McGonagall advised her to get a 'butterbeer', a drink so sweet it seemed to warm Wendy's insides, foam and all.

From there, they made their way down what seemed to be the high-street of the shopping district. Now that her stomach was filled and she was pleasantly taking in the news that she was now a witch, Wendy took great pleasure in looking around the shop fronts they passed. It was a whole new world for her to explore, nothing like she could have thought up or read about and it was absolutely wonderous.

From the odd clothing the magical community wore - like Professor McGonagall they were robes, long and varying in design and colours but robes nonetheless - to the entire atmosphere of the place, Wendy was fascinated. It smelt of vanilla and cinnamon and sometimes liquorice and the paint of various-coloured shop fronts seemed to glimmer with gold. But most of all, Wendy couldn't manage to bring herself from looking away from the displays that sat in the windows.

More often than not, McGonagall would be strides ahead by the time she realised that she had lost the girl in her ward, and would turn, looking down her spectacles, to find the young girl simply standing in front of a window, watching one of them. Her face transformed away from wonder, the teacher soon realised that it was only then that Wendy's gaunt face looked happy, full of life. She would allow her a few moments to enjoy to the sight of usually inanimate objects moving on their own - the display quills writing out scrolls of parchment of pre-determined scripts, the cauldron filled with a bubbling, amber potion stirred by an unmanned wand.

"Come along now." Minerva urged when it happened for perhaps the fourth time. Wendy followed along, scared that she would get lost or her distractions would annoy the woman to the point of abandoning her attempts to shop for her education. They turned a corner, and McGonagall stopped in front in a grey shop that glimmered in the noon sun. "This, Miss Quinn, is Ollivanders."

"Ollivanders." Wendy nodded. "Right, and what exactly does that mean."

"Garrick Ollivander provides almost all wands to the witches and wizards of Britain. There are some independent makers, however, for Hogwarts students, Ollivanders is a particularly crucial experience that begins their magical education." McGonagall replied. "It seems as though there are some people in there, but they will be done in no time. Mr Ollivander is a professional in his business."