Half-Blood

Fifty years after Harry Potter destroyed Lord Voldemort, the biggest threat of the wizarding world, there was finally peace. Erela Harris, an awkward witch, starts her life off in Hogwarts to try and discover who she really is, all while struggling to fight her unknown destiny. Only when the time comes will she face the choice between what is right and what is easy.

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3. Diagon Alley

    Erela and her parents went to Diagon Alley together with determination to get everything in one day. But once they saw the sight of the shopping strip, they immediately knew it would be difficult to get everything in one day. Erela kept close to her father while her mother was just behind them and taking quick peeks through windows. 

    Even after twenty years of being married to a wizard, she was still amazed at what the magical world could offer. Either she was still soaking in all the information or it was that enthusiastic personality that made her excited and bubbly all the time. She looked like a twelve year old in a candy store and the blonde curls weren't helping Erela's imagination either. 

    She inherited her calm and serious attitude from her father, as if she wasn't related to her mum at all. If it weren't for the brown eyes and her baby face, it would be questionable on whether or not they were related. 

    Books were first on their list. Mr. Harris wanted her wand to be the last thing to get; after all, it was a magical contract to do good in every wizard and witches' life.

***** 

    Geez, it wasn't like shopping for school supplies was a new thing for Erela. She had done so for muggle schools for a couple years with her mum. But now she was exhausted. Erela's father took the supplies they had purchased so far and traveled by floo powder to drop them all off. For the sake of having free hands. They were purchasing a lot of material after all.

    While Mr. Harris was waiting in a line to drop things off via floo powder, Mrs. Harris ran off to look at some potential pets while Erela was getting herself fitted into her robes. There were other students in Madam Malkin's Robes, most were first years like Erela and a small few were returning students who had a growth spurt during the summer.

    Erela went up to get her robes measured and fitted next to a boy with dark hair, grey eyes, and barely her height of 5'9. The boy looked toward her curiously as his arm span was being measured. "First year?" he asked.

    Erela glanced at him for a moment before she looked away. "Yeah . . ." she nodded.

    "Me too," the boy smiled at her.

    Erela wasn't exactly an outgoing child; people would go to her instead of the other way around. She was, what you would describe, awkward. Maybe it was the British blood that ran through her veins; maybe that was just her nature in general. She just kept to herself most of the time. Erela felt her (slightly above average) height was to blame for her awkward behavior since her muggle classmates teased her for how tall she was compared to the rest of them. Perhaps it was her height or perhaps, again, it was just her nature.

    "I'm Michael Hughes," he introduced himself.

    Erela looked to the boy again curiously. Was he really trying to make conversation with her? Or just trying to lift that uncomfortable atmosphere? "Erela Harris . . ." she answered.

    "That's an interesting name," he cocked his head.

    "Yeah . . ." she mumbled as she was getting herself measured.

    "What house do you think you'll be in?" he asked.

    He was rather talkative . . .

    "Umm . . . I don't know . . . I honestly don't really care . . ." she answered and slipped into some robes before doing more measurements with the Hughes boy. "My father was a Ravenclaw, so . . . Ravenclaw might be my house?" she shrugged.

    "And your mother?"

    That was when it got awkward. Her father had warned her that some magic folks don't care for witches and wizards marrying muggles, so some people's reactions might not be as pleasant as she would hope. "Umm . . . she never told me," she answered.

    "Maybe we'll get the same house together," Michael smiled.

    Doubt it . . . their personality was far too different to be in the same house together.

    "All done, dearie," Madam Malkin told Michael.

    "Thank you. I'll see you again, Erela," the boy said with a bubbly smile before he left the shop with his parents.

    What a weird child . . .

    After the fitting, Erela left where her mother was waiting with a black cat in a cage. "Isn't she cute?" she chirped.

    "Yeah. Stephen is going to be jealous though," Erela lightly smiled and looked at the cat with wide yellow eyes.

    "He'll manage when you come visit and take her along with you," she giggled.

    We'll only see . . .

    Mr. Harris came back with a pewter cauldron and telescope in hand when he joined his wife and daughter. The only thing left on the list was getting Erela her wand. The Harris family followed the stream of witches, wizards, and muggle parents until they found Ollivander just around the corner.

    And for the first time, some interest sparked in Erela. It finally sunk in that she was a witch and she was just moments away from getting her wand. All three of them go inside when the bell over the door chimed merrily. There was another family ahead of them and they had just purchased the little girl's wand just moments ago before they left the dusty old shop.

    "Well hello there. I was expecting you, Ms. Harris," Mr. Ollivander said. A middle aged gentleman with greying hair and wise eyes looked to her as they approached the counter. The man must have been the son of the Ollivander than gave Harry Potter's wand fifty plus years ago.

    Erela looked to her father, a little nervous why the old man knew who she was immediately. "It's okay, love," her father reassured her.

    She looked back to the wandmaker and approached the counter as the old man placed some boxes of wands before her. They were all opened to be presented to her, all in different lengths, colors, designs, and different feelings that radiated off of them.

     Erela's brown eyes examined the wands carefully and allowed her senses to take effect. Which felt right to her? Would anything go wrong if she took a bad wand? 

    "What you should know child, the wand chooses the wizard. Not the other way around," Mr. Ollivander told her. She nodded and lightly brushed her fingertips against one wand that felt like a little odd to the touch. She picked it up and examined the design of it. "Ah, Ivy wood, seven inches, with unicorn hair," the wandmaker said right on the spot.

    He could remember EVERY wand he made? Every length, wood, and core? Talk about dedication. Much like his father.

    Erela looked around for something to use to experiment on and looked to a sliding latter. Maybe if she could try pushing it? She flicked the wand toward the latter and one of the steps launched from the latter, almost hit Mr. Harris, and crashed through the window.

    Okay, not the right wand . . .

    "Definitely not for you," Mr. Ollivander said.

    Erela nodded in agreement and placed the wand back in its box. She looked to the others and tried just the same as the first wand, all ended in rather negative feedback. She ended up killing a bouquet of flowers, set the flowers on fire with her third wand, boxes of wands flying out of their shelves, and nothing happened with the fifth wand. At least she didn't make the shop blow up.

    By her sixth wand, she felt energy flow through her arm and spread throughout the rest of her body. She felt warm and powerful . . . she waved the wand and butterflies fluttered from the tip and flew around the room. Erela smiled widely as her eyes followed the colors of the butterflies around the room before she looked to Mr. Ollivander.

    He looked a little . . . worried?

    "Curious . . ." he mumbled. All three of them looked at Mr. Ollivander. "What you have in your hand is holly, twelve inches, with a runespoor fang core . . .," he explained.

    Erela blinked a couple times and furrowed her brows. Okay? What was the problem with the wand?

    "Each wand is different by what core they have within the wand. There are cores like unicorn hair, phoenix feather, hippogriff talons, and dragon heartstring. Each core has a different ability that would guarantee success with certain spells as well as respond to the person for who they are," Mr. Ollivander explained. "Runespoor fang is a rather . . . dark core to own within a wand . . ." he started.

     The eleven-year-old girl listened carefully.

    "Runespoor fang cores are known for conjuring Dark Magic better than other forms of magic," he finally said. "It will still conjure Charm work and other forms of magic, but they won't be as powerful compared to the use of Dark Magic . . ." he said.

    Erela's heart stopped beating for a moment. Dark Magic . . . her wand had better use for evil? And if Ollivander said that wands responded to the personality of the holder . . .

    "I should warn you child . . . from today onward, you must tread carefully upon the path you walk upon . . . We are not certain what your future is . . . Just because you are the master of a wand with a dark core, it doesn't mean you must follow that path . . . Watch your step, child . . ." he said.

    Erela gulped the lump that was swelling in her throat. Don't follow in the path of dark witches and wizards . . . now, the girl's future seemed bleak . . .

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