Chapter 12
Being in Diagon Alley was a surreal moment, one I can't seem to explain. Since the moment I got to know about this magical world, I always wanted to be a part of it. I always wanted to experience it, find my own great adventure in those seven years at Hogwarts fighting beside the likes of Harry Potter and Neville, going on a pranking streak along with the Weasley twins, and riding on brooms even when I feel sick looking down from a first-floor balcony.
And now I am finally becoming a part of this world, seeing it for the first time. Yet, every time I look at it, I find spots—dark, ugly, annoying little spots in the world. I see judgment, pity, and sometimes wholehearted hatred in the eyes of those who I pass by.
I see how people easily ignore many beggars on the side of the road with tattered robes. I see how people ignore how some shopkeepers use dismembered body parts of magical creatures as decoration.
I see how posh-looking wizards hasten their feet as they hear the screams coming from Knockturn Alley.
Truthfully, it's making me sad to see something so pure, such as magic, being used for such atrocities by these wizards. Maybe I am a naive little fool, and though I have knowledge, I have none of the wisdom it comes with. Maybe that's how their culture is, and I am biased. But it's truly making me sick.
Yet here I am sitting on a bench, eating ice cream as the professor left for some errand. It was very unprofessional of her, but not that it mattered much. Most of my shopping here was completed; only getting a wand remained. I could wait just like I waited all these years.
But it was not the professor's fault that she had to leave. It is I who ate all her time doing things I read in all these fanfics, things that the protagonist usually does.
***
Flourish and Blotts
"Umm... excuse me," called John with utmost seriousness. "I want all the books listed on the list, secondhand."
"Mr. Smith, you already have sufficient money to buy them all in pristine condition," claimed Professor McGonagall.
"No, I wanna see all those secondhand books personally. Mr. Shopkeeper, lead the way."
"Sure... haha," said Mr. Blotts, wiping away the sweat of having a troublesome customer.
Two hours later...
"Damn, all these books are unreadable. Just give me all the new books, mister," said John, getting an annoyed look from the professor.
"Right away, sir."
***
Madam Malkin's
"Umm, excuse me," said John with utmost seriousness. "Madam! I would like to coat all my robes and innerwear with a layer of protection charms. It would also be great if you could add fire protection, water protection, anti-theft, anti-robbery, featherweight, unbreakable, untouchable, and invincible charms too," exclaimed John without a twitch in his face.
"Eh... um, we don't deal with charms... that much," said the troubled attendant of the shop.
"Mr. Smith, it is against the school rules for a student to change or alter the uniform in any way not approved by the school beforehand," said the professor, pinching the bridge of her nose, already accepting the headache that would be coming.
"Is that so? Then just take my measurements and ready the robes already," said John, pretending to be the cool, nonchalant teen he was.
***
Brendan Brewery
"Umm, excuse me—"
"Not again," exclaimed Professor McGonagall amidst the headache caused by his behavior.
"Eh..." said John, feigning surprise. "I was only gonna ask him the recipe and ingredients for the invincibility, indestructi—"
"No, we will get your cauldron and potion supplies and nothing more."
"But profess—"
"No buts... we will take the supplies. Then, I have a meeting with one of the alumni, which I am late for thanks to your erratic demands. You will sit by Florean's Ice Cream Parlour and wait for me... Mr. Smith, do you understand?" asked the professor in all her firm anger.
"Yes, mom... I mean, ma'am—Professor, I... I understand," said the startled John, witnessing firsthand the sternness and strictness of the professor she was traditionally known for.
***
It did not go the way I meant it to, but it gave me ample time to observe the magical world and its nuances. The Firebolt was already on the market, yet there were no talks about the Quidditch World Cup. There was no wanted poster of Sirius Black on the walls; obviously, he had not escaped Azkaban.
One peculiar thing I noticed was that you could pretty much differentiate those of noble blood and those who were not. The noble ones carried their house insignia with them, making them distinguishable from others. Another thing I noticed was that many of the people carried a sword. A literal fucking sword. Maybe it was ceremonial or something, as none of the people here seemed trained in anything physical. Or there might be some sword magic shit for all I could know... the world is still very different from the novels.
Another question for the professor.
The professor arrived after an hour, looking drained from whatever conversation she had. Looking at her, John went back to his excited self. "Hello, Professor, how was your meeting?"
"It was fine, Mr. Smith. Now it's time we finally get you your wand," replied the professor with a small smile toward John.
The smile seemed to hit John. The professor seemed kind, just as he had expected before, but, 'But why would you let that happen to her? Aren't you supposed to be vice headmistress, impartial and strict? Shouldn't you have protected Alina from her bullies... from her rapists... shouldn't you have sought out justice for her?' His hand clutched before he returned a smile.
This one didn't reach his eyes. He replied, "Yes... finally." The professor noticed the sudden change in John's behavior but didn't comment on it. They both walked towards Britain's best wand shop, but an awkward silence developed over them.
"Ah... Professor?" asked John, breaking the silence between them. Receiving a nod in return, he continued, "I noticed a large number of wizards carrying swords with them. Why is that? It wasn't even mentioned in the supplies."
"Hmm... the swords they carry are mostly blunt-edged ceremonial swords, more as a means of fashion than usage," replied the professor. "But recently, there has been a change."
It immediately caught John's attention. For a boy with protagonist syndrome, swords are cool as hell, and any thought of swinging a sword interested him.
"Britain had a troubling last few decades, which led to Britain closing off to the rest of the magical world. Recently, Britain has reopened all its international exchanges again in the last decade. But now, after half a century, we will officially be participating in dueling circuits around the world."
"Next year, we will be hosting our very first Inter-culture Dueling Conference," said the professor with pride in her voice.
"But what is the use of swords? Isn't dueling done by wand for wizards and witches?" asked John, still curious about the answer.
"That's where you are wrong. A duel can be done with anything deemed necessary, unless it's being extremely unfair towards one party."
"Across the world, different cultures use magic differently. Most of Europe, Salem, and parts of Asia use wands as a foci for magic... but there are many cultures where they use different foci or no foci at all, like Uagadou in Africa, known for teaching its students wandless magic."
"So any foci, weapons, potions, or even armor are allowed to be used in this dueling format, aside from Muggle firearms or any other unfair means."
"Woah! It's so cool," said John as they reached Ollivanders.
'I definitely want to try dueling in the future.'
"I can understand your enthusiasm, Mr. Smith, but we still officially need to get you your wand," said the professor. "Now go inside and get your wand."
"Aren't you coming inside with me, Professor?"
A look of horror passed over McGonagall's face upon hearing the question before eventually replying with a stoic face, "No! It's a very personal process; you should enter alone. I will wait here just outside."
John took a breath, steadied himself, and went towards Ollivander's shop.