Lost But Found• Sirius Black's Daughter.

Chapter Four

Darley, who had been sitting around the fire, sprang up and rushed over to me.
"Hey Bean! Guess what? I'm the first Geoffrey to be sorted into Gryffindor in 300 years! And we're in the same dormitory and our beds are next to each other. And guess what?! We're in the same classes together. Nick and Carlson are too, though I'm not sure if they're our friends yet, but I turned one of them into a pig... so."
She rattled out, grabbing my arm and pulling me up a circular staircase.

I laughed at that last part, then felt my jaw drop when we reached the dormitory. It felt... and this is probably the most cliche thing in the world, but it felt like home. I flopped down on the bed with the pile of parcels at the foot and stared up at the ceiling. I breathed in the smell of the fire place and smiled, Darley snickering at my obvious happiness.
She jumped into her bed, and I turned over onto my side, so we were facing each other.

"So aren't you going to tell me why you went to Dumbledore's office on the first day of school? I mean, I guessed you were a trouble maker, but Bean!" She said sarcastically, grinning.
"But really, why?"
"Cause he needed to make sure I knew what my name was."
"Oooo! So your real name isn't Bean! I knew it!" She said, raising her eyebrows.
"What is it? Wait, let me guess... Anna? No... that's too girly... Spencer? No..."

"It's Jamison." I interrupted her, knowing this could take ages.

"Jamison... can I call you Jamie?"

I smirked. " I mean, if you want to."
She rolled her eyes.
"You obviously don't want me too."
I laughed. "So are you one of those geniuses obsessed with homework and good grades?" I asked, hoping the answer was no.

"God no!" Darley laughed, shaking her head.
"I absolutely hate homework. I just happen to be... smart, I guess. But I never do my homework until the last second."

I laughed, grinning. "Good, because I happen to absolutely suck at school work."

She laughed, rolling onto her back and turning off the light.
"See you in the morning?" She said, yawning.
"Why on Earth would I leave?"

********

The next morning was chaotic. I rushed to get dressed and then wondered around the castle, trying to find Dumbledore's office. After a few stressed minutes I felt a rush of air, then Dumbledore appeared at my side.

"Well? Off to Diagon Alley." He led me outside and as soon as we stepped away from the gate, he grabbed my arm.

"Brace yourself." He said, grinning. The world suddenly spun around me, the colors of the courtyard and the stone of Hogwarts blending into each other. I felt dinner from the night before rising in my stomach, but fortunately our feet soon hit the ground.

We were standing in front of a old-looking building, with stacks and stacks of tiny, thin boxes lining the walls.

"Ah, Albus! I've been expecting you!" A man that looked as old as the building he owned leaned out the doorway and beckoned us inside.

"Hello my dear, what's your name?" He said, smiling. I sat down in the car he had pulled out for me and opened my mouth to respond.
Dumbledore, however, leaned over and whispered something in his ears. His eyes widened and he nodded, pursing his lips.

I looked at Dumbledore, perplexed, and asked him what he had told the man.
"Nothing, my dear."
"Sir, I mean, I don't want to be rude, but you're keeping something from me." I said.

"Yes, there's no denying that, I am. But, alas, I cannot tell you until a later time. I'm sorry Jamison, but you must understand. I'm not keeping this information from you to leave you uniformed, I'm only doing it to protect you." Dumbledore said, looking at me apologetically.

Sure. I thought sarcastically. Protecting me from what?
But I only nodded and looked at the older man.
"Jamison, I'm Olivander. Today we're going to find you a wand." He said, suddenly excited.
Mr. Olivander started opening random boxes around the store, sometimes quietly murmuring to himself. He finally settled on two boxes, bringing them over to me.

The first was a short, black wand that felt very heavy and awkward in my hand. Mr. Olivander quickly snatched it away and handed me the other wand.

I grasped it and Mr. Olivander smiled.
"Yes, that's the one. Hawthorn wood, unicorn hair, 12 1/4 inches, and hard flexibility. You know, it's all too fitting that your wand be made from Hawthorn wood, but also strange. Hawthorn wands seem most at home with wizard and witches passing through a period of turmoil. It's also peculiar, since Hawthorn wands are only comfortable in the hands of a witch or wizard with proven talent. Yet you're muggle raised, correct?" He said, raising an eyebrow. 

I struggled to understand what he had just rattled out, but I nodded at the last part, since I was definitely raised by muggles.
"Funny. Oh well, Albus, I think we are done here."