The Godson

☆~Wizard stuff, and fun~☆

There was a particular level of enthusiasm outside the Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. Kids and adults alike were busy rummaging through their insanely useful stuff, be it the new Digimagical Memos with their own touch of jokes (which shout swear words and throw foul smelling liquids) or the puking pastilles and extendable ears.

The huge board read ‘From bunny ears to detachable wing, Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes has everything! ALERT: LIMITED STOCK IN MEMOS!!’

“Come, let’s meet George”, said Uncle Harry. “Haven’t seen him for some time”.

We pushed our way in through the long line at the love potions counter and came face to face with Uncle Ron. “Harry! Teddy!” He made his way towards us. In hurry, half of his butterbeer spilled on the floor, which instantly started shouting ‘You Weasel!’

“How are you, Teddy?” He asked me.

“I’m fine”, I replied. “How are you?”

“Good, as ever”, he said, and added to Uncle Harry, “Except that Hermione still keeps lecturing me on the difference between Leviosa and Leviosah ”. They laughed heartily.

I was looking at pygmy puffs curiously, when Uncle George came running. I still got a bit disturbed when I saw the hole in his ear, covered by the mop of red hair. He was, as usual, in a mood to joke. Seeing me, he quickly produced a pair of extendable ears from his pocket and held it out, “For the son of our best Defense against the Dark Arts teacher. Free.”

I accepted it shyly and thanked him. The three elders fell into conversation, while I fidgeted with a variety of WWW products. I could hear bits and pieces.

“…Lazy time for the Aurors. None to chase, none to report…”

“…Though we suspect a couple of goblins of foul play…”

“…Nothing dark though…”

“…Almost boring. Fred would think so…”

“…We are outselling Zonko’s…”

After some time, we left and went to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions to buy my robes, hat, cloak and winter gloves. She took my size, while getting my name sewn on the clothes with her magic needle. It was a most efficient work house, with nothing out of place.

On the contrary, Wiseacre’s was untidy with brass telescopes and glass phials peeping under the numerous brass scales and charts. Pixies darted in and out.

“Metamorphagus, eh?” The owner asked me. “My paternal Granddad was one too.”

I grinned.

Next up, we went to Ollivander’s- Makers of Fine Wands. It was very dark and eery inside the store. A musty smell of old wood hung in the air.

“Harry Potter, if my failing eyes don’t deceive me!” A wrinkled, old man said. He was hunched so low that it was difficult to see him behind the counter.

Uncle Harry nodded.

“And him?”

“Teddy Lupin. Son of Remus and Tonks. My godson.”

Mr. Ollivander smiled. “I do remember how excited Remus Lupin had been that day. In Shell’s Cottage. The day you were born, young man!”

I smiled again.

“So, let’s see. Wandlore says that most Metamorphagi are better suited to wands that change to the wizard’s wish.” He kept murmuring to himself, and extracted an elongated wooden box from the shelf.