Yer A Witch, Gura

“Ooooooooooooohayoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!” I yelled loudly.

“It wasn’t a dream,” I heard Harry mutter from the floor.

“What wasn’t a dream?” I asked, hovering over Harry’s head.

Harry’s green eyes stared into my blue ones. “Me being a wizard.”

“Ah. Well, it ain’t a dream, and you’re definitely a wizard!” I straightened up. “Anyway! Hagrid! Wake up! We gotta go to Diagon Alley today to get Harry and mine’s stuff!”

Hagrid grumbled, barely managing a “Jus’ five more minutes.”

I walked over and started shaking him. “C’mon, Hagrid~! Wake up~!” Just then, an owl flew onto his face and started pecking him. “Hey! Thanks, owlie!” I stopped shaking Hagrid and waited. Harry stepped up to me, a roll of paper in his hand.

“Er, what’s this? The owl dropped it off.”

“Oh! That’s the newspaper, so that means- oh!” I crouched down and started rummaging through Hagrid’s pockets. “Aha!” I pulled out the coins. I counted out five Knuts and placed them in the owl’s pouch tied to its leg. Once the Knuts were deposited, the owl flew off. “Bye owlie!” Hagrid was now awake and giving me the stink-eye. “What?”

Hagrid shook his head and stood up. “Anythin’ cookin- ah. Fish.”

“Caught em this mornin’!” I said proudly. “Here, Harry, have some fish! I warmed the sausages from last night, too, if you wanna have that instead.”

“Aren’t you gonna eat?” Harry asked as he started eating.

“Nah, I had some before I woke ya’ll up.”

Once we had finished, we set out towards London. We were stopped by not being able to get across to the mainland. I waved goodbye and dove into the water, jumping back out on the other side of the river-water thing. Hagrid and Harry took the boat. We set off towards the train station, I was skipping ahead, humming merrily, while Harry and Hagrid chatted. I bought our tickets to London. It took a while with Hagrid not knowing his way around the normie world, but we managed to get out cleanly.

“Onward! To Diagon Alley!” I said, making a pose, then marching forth. I returned a few seconds later. “I have no idea where I’m going. Hagrid where’re we going?”

“Yeh were on the right path.”

“Sweet! Onward!” I spun back around and led us onward. We arrived at The Leaky Cauldron with no other incident. None. Did not walk past it at all. Not at all. I knew where it was the entire time. Totally.

Inside the inn, for that is what it is, was another matter. It was smoky from the pipes being smoked and smelt of good food and something that shouldn’t be pondered upon. The bartender greeted Hagrid amicably, but Hagrid declined his offer of a drink, stating he was here on Hogwarts business, patting Harry on the head.

“OI!” I shouted, my voice reverberating against the walls and stopping everyone in the midst of rushing over to Harry. “Back off!” I glared at everyone. “Harry, do you mind if people shake your hand?”

“Er,” Harry said, looking a bit dazed. “Not really.”

I nodded. “Single. File. Line,” I commanded, looking over the patrons at the inn. More sedately, they formed a line and started shaking Harry’s hand and thanking him. “There we go.” I nodded decisively; hands crossed over my chest.

Finally, when this one old woman shook Harry’s hand for the third time, Hagrid finally managed to get the inn to settle, and we entered the back courtyard. Hagrid explained how to get into Diagon Alley from The Leaky Cauldron by saying, “Three up from the trash can, two across, and tap three times.”

“What happens if someone moves the trash can?” I asked seriously as the doorway to Diagon Alley opened dramatically.

“Won’t happen, it just moves back,” Hagrid explained before announcing, “Welcome to Diagon Alley.”

“Huh,” I said in response to Hagrid’s explanation and the sight of Diagon Alley before us. Chaotic was certainly the best word to describe it. Colors, explosions, shouting, and a large amount of foot traffic made up the Alley. Stalls were lined up with vendors selling all sorts of items, from live bats to cauldrons to animal parts. My head was twisting every which way to take it all in, and I saw that Harry was doing the same. “Where’re we going first, Hagrid?” I asked, taking a brief reprieve from my gawking to look up at the massive man.

“Gringotts bank, where we’ll get the money to get Harry’s supplies,” Hagrid replied, pointing towards the white building up ahead. It was built like a pantheon and stood above the rest of the buildings. Nodding, I ran up ahead, ignoring Hagrid’s shout to stay with him.

“Woah, it’s even bigger up close,” I said, approaching the building. As I got close to the doors, a spear froze me in place.

“What’s an Atlantean doing above water?” the goblin holding the spear up to my neck asked rhetorically. “Lost your way to the sea, eh?”

“Hwhat now?” I blinked rapidly down at the goblin- who reached up to my chest.

“Don’t play dumb with me, fish. You should know we don’t appreciate your kind here.”

“Er, I’m sorry, but I genuinely have no idea what you’re talking about. I’ve only recently gotten above land and have amnesia on top of that, so I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” I tried to scoot away from the spear, but the goblin just pressed it back up against my neck. I let out an ‘eep’ as it started poking my neck.

“Gura!” I heard Hagrid shout from behind me.

“Hagrid!” I called back happily. “Please help me!”

Hagrid loomed above me and the goblin guard, “She’s with us, goblin. She means no harm to your bank.”

“I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise!”

The goblin looked between me and Hagrid several times before it lowered the spear away from my neck. “See to that, fish.” The goblin retook its position by the door and didn’t spare us another glance.

Hagrid sighed heavily. “This is why I didn’t want yeh to run off ahead. Goblins and Atlanteans don’t have the best history.”

“Ah. Sorry.” So Atlanteans are a thing here? I just made that up based on a fic I read before I came here! Making sure my thoughts didn’t show on my face, I looked down and scuffed the ground.

Hagrid placed his massive hand upon my head. “It’s fine, Gura, just don’t do it again.”

I nodded meekly underneath his hand. Giving me a soft pat, we continued up the steps to the bank. The inside of the bank was exactly what you’d expect. Large, white, fancy, chandelier, goblins on highchairs, and, frankly, stupidly large desks. But that could just be because of how short I am. I briefly mourned how short I was before I refocused on Hagrid and Harry and whatever they were doing.

Hagrid had given them a key, along with a slew of other items. Harry was standing closer to me, as if he didn’t want to be associated with Hagrid. Hagrid then held up a letter and handed it over to the goblin, saying something to it. The goblin, after reading it, nodded.

“Griphook!” the goblin yelled, probably summoning another goblin. Lo and behold, a new goblin appeared next to the tall desk. “Griphook will lead you to the vaults.”

“Follow me,” Griphook said, immediately turning around walking off.

Hagrid hurriedly shoved the items on the desk into his pockets and rushed to catch up to me, Harry, and the goblin. We made our way to some sort of underground tunnel which housed several carts on rails. We were led to and boarded the foremost one, and once we all squeezed in, Griphook started it off.

It should be stated that there were no seatbelts.

It was a nauseating experience at first, but it was similar to a rollercoaster. If that rollercoaster sped faster than sound and had no safety rails, belts, or restraints. Then again, nobody flew out when we did a corkscrew around a bend, so I guess magic sorta made up for it.

We finally made it to our destination, where the cart slowed to a stop. We all piled out of the cart, Hagrid looking quite green, while Harry was gazing around. “Gura,” he asked suddenly, “what’s the difference between Stalactite and Stalagmite?”

“Stalactites come down from the ceiling. They hold on tight to the ceiling. Stalagmites come up from the floor, they’re mighty!” This was one thing I definitely knew. My dad used to be a caver, and I had to look up the difference several times while writing.

“Really?”

“Mhm! Also, stalagmite has a ‘g’ and ‘m’ in it, while stalactite has a ‘c’ and ‘t’ in it! You can remember it by the ‘t’ hanging from the ceiling, and the ‘m’ coming from the ground!”

“Vault’s open,” the goblin interrupted. We looked over, and the door next to him was indeed open.

Harry and I walked over and peered in. Mounds of gold coins filled the room, stacks and piles of silver and bronze coins were scattered about. ““Woah,”” both me and Harry gasped.

“All yours, Harry,” Hagrid said, looking a little better.

“Gold ones are Galleons; seventeen Sickles to a Galleon, and twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle,” Hagrid explained as he helped Harry push some into a bag that they grabbed from in the vault.

“So that would mean… how many Knuts to a Galleon? Twenty-nine times seventeen… hm,” I muttered as I started calculating in my head. “I have come to the conclusion that I am bad at math,” I declared, coming out of my calculations.

“Four-hundred ninety-three,” the goblin outside sneered.

“Thanks. That’s a lotta Knuts,” I concluded.

We piled back into the cart again, but this time Hagrid was on the left side, I was on the right and Harry was in the middle. The goblin was steering. Hagrid tried asking if we could go slower, but the goblin didn’t reply, it only grinned. As we went deeper- or higher, I couldn’t tell- we gathered more speed than we did before. As we hurtled across a ravine, I couldn’t help but let out an excited squeal. In practically no time after that, we were stopped at another area with a buncha doors on either side.

The goblin hopped out of the cart and waddled up to a door. Hagrid stumbled out, groaning pitifully. Harry and I squeezed past the groaning Hagrid and watched with fascination as the goblin ran his finger down the door, causing it to click open. It grinned sharply at Harry. “If anyone not a Gringotts goblin tried that, they’d be sucked through the door and trapped in there.”

“Definitely not going to get close to any of the doors, now,” I muttered, scooting away from the doors.

“A pity,” the goblin said, not even trying to hide the disappointment in its voice.

Harry asked, “How often do you check to see if anyone’s inside?”

“About once every ten years,” the goblin answered.

Hagrid plodded past them and grabbed a brown little package on the floor of the vault, tucking it into one of his pockets. “Got what I needed, let’s go back up. Don’t talk to me on the way back, don’t think I’ll be able to hold it in.” Hagrid plodded back to the car, we joined him, and it was a quietly wild ride back up to the surface.

Now standing outside the bank, Hagrid looked a little better. “Might as well get yer uniform.” He pointed at a shop that held mannequins in the windows. “Listen, mind if I slip off to get me a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? Hate them Gringotts carts.”

“Not at all! Have a good drink, Hagrid!” I said. Hagrid walked off and I joined Harry in walking into the clothing shop. Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions was the name.

A woman was standing at the counter just inside the building. “Hogwarts, dearies?” she asked.

“For him, not me. I’m getting me a full wardrobe. Or at least enough clothes to last me a few weeks,” I said, interrupting her before she could usher us into the back.

“Oh! Are you, Gura Gawr?” she asked.

“Mhm!” I nodded.

“Alrighty, the Headmaster told me about your circumstances and what you should need. Just head in back, and I’ll have one of my assistants help you out.”

“Okeyday!”

The woman led us to the back where a blond boy was standing imperiously. Though the effect of that was ruined as he was also getting fitted for robes. The woman called over an assistant and they got us on stools. They pushed robes over us and then started fiddling with it.

The other boy started up a conversation with Harry, but I didn’t pay attention to it. Eventually, the woman finished and patted my shoulder. “Come along, let’s get your measurements.”

“Huh? But I thought you did already?”

“Those were robe measurements. What we’re doing now is size measurements.”

“Oh. Wait I thought wizards only do robes?”

“They do, but I get enough muggleborn customers that producing muggle clothes is a necessity.”

“Really? Huh. Neat!”

“Now then, step up on the stool and take off your dress, please. I want to get these measurements as accurate as possible.”

The room we were now in had no windows, and the woman had closed the door after we entered. A mirror was on the far side of the room- it was one of those fancy three-part mirrors- behind the stool, which was in the middle of the room.

The woman helped me out of the dress- as I couldn’t reach the zipper- and it came off, revealing my naked body. “Miss Gawr,” the woman said.

“Yeah?”

“Why do you not have any undergarments?”

“My tail.” I waved my shark tail a little bit and also tapped it with my hand if she didn’t notice it. “Any underwear they had at Hogwarts wouldn’t work for me since they didn’t have a tail hole, so I just decided to go commando.”

“And what about shoes?”

“Oh, I just didn’t want to wear some.”

The woman sighed. “Get on the stool and we’ll get you outfitted with proper attire.”

“Yes, ma’am!” I got on the stool and the woman started taking measurements with a string tape measure. In no time, she was having me put on clothes and doing color combinations. She asked me if I had any opinion on the matter, and I told her that my color combinations are like Dumbledore’s. I’m terrible at it. She nodded and instead asked me what my favorite colors were. “Blue, Green, Purple, Black, and Orange,” I told her. “Oh! And Pink, too!”

Nodding, she continued having me try on different styles and colors. What felt like hours later, we finished, and I was outfitted in new clothes.

I wore a light blue T-shirt with a breast pocket on the left side. I had a skirt that allowed my tail free movement, with a pair of small shorts that preserved modesty. I now had underwear that fitted around my tail perfectly and comfortably. I tried figuring out how it got on over my tail several times, before I gave up and claimed magic.

I exited the building- apparently the woman (she told me her name was Malkin) was charging it straight to Dumbledore- to find Hagrid and Harry chowing down on ice cream. “I’m back in blue!” I exclaimed, posing proudly in front of them.

“There yeh are, Gura!” Hagrid said.

“Sorry it took so long.”

“No worries, we got some ice cream for yeh. Didn’t know what yeh’d like, so I got plain vanilla.” Hagrid held up an ice cream cone.

My eyes lit up happily. “Thanks!” I took it from him and started chowing down on it.

We finished up our ice cream, and continued to our next stop, which was a parchment and quill shop. I noticed Harry was lingering near one item, and upon seeing that it was color-changing ink, I immediately pestered Harry to get it. Harry caved to my superior wisdom and intellect, getting the ink.

As we left, Harry questioned Hagrid about… things. I wasn’t paying them much attention. Rather, my attention was on our next stop: the bookstore, Flourish and Blotts. My eyes lit up like a kid in a candy store as I immediately dived into the depths of the store. I took deep breaths as I walked, the nostalgic smell of books assaulting my nose. I ran my fingers across the spines to ground myself, occasionally stopping to flip a book around so that its spine showed. At some point, I had started to read the books, and it wasn’t much later that Harry and Hagrid found me- Harry, since Hagrid couldn’t move through some of the smaller aisles.

I ignored the small hesitation that Harry had when he found me, instead placing the book back on the shelf and following him out to the main lobby. It’d been roughly an hour since they last saw me, and I wasn’t ashamed that I was lost in there that long. I could’ve gone on longer.

Though I was unable to get Hagrid to change his mind on getting Harry a gold cauldron at our next stop, I made sure that the pewter cauldron he did get didn’t have any lead in it- meaning it was one of the higher quality cauldrons that were available.

The Apothecary was interesting enough, though Hagrid stopped me from trying to poison myself through touch. Pouting, I left the Apothecary with the other two, but immediately cheered up when I was reminded that it was Harry’s birthday.

“That’s right! I completely forgot! I’ve gotta get you something, too!” I exclaimed, hopping in front of Harry as we walked.

“N-no, it’s really not-” he stammered, blushing.

“Aw, pish posh,” I waved my hand dismissively. “I’m gonna get you something, and you’re gonna like it!” I paused for half a second. “Well, it might take a bit since I have no money but still.”

Before Harry could stutter out a response, we entered a store and a great many noises assaulted our ears. Mainly the sounds of birds. Lots of birds. The birds were owls. Owls, owls, owls, was that an eagle(?), and owls. Soon enough, Hagrid had bought a snowy owl and given it to the now-stammering Harry.

Hagrid waved off his thanks, “Owls are dead useful, they can carry yer mail an’ everything.”

I nodded, “Mhm! I don’t have an owl of my own, but they’re really cool and soft and are super useful! Though, it does suck when they start bringing you dead animals as treats.”

Harry stared at me.

“What?” I asked defensively, “Just because I eat stuff raw doesn’t mean I don’t like it when it was just killed!”

Harry continued staring.

I huffed, crossing my arms and looking off to the side. My face heated up as I blushed in embarrassment. “Fine then. Be that way.”

“Ollivanders! Finest place for wands in Diagon Alley!” Hagrid boomed, interrupting us. I peered past him to look at the old shop, squished as it was between two brighter shops.

“It don’t look like much.” The paint was peeling all over, and the window showcasing a single wand was dirtied with grime and dust.

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Hagrid said sagely, before heading into the shop, Harry and I following.

Just inside the door was a small waiting area, narrow as it was wide. However, beyond the small counter it was longer than seemed possible. Two columns of shelves stretched into the back, on the walls and squeezed between the shelves, rows upon rows of small rectangular boxes were crammed. Soft yellow lamps dimly lit up the room, the only other light was sunlight peering through the cracks in the window curtains.

“Woah,” I muttered. “That’s an aesthetic.”

“Why, thank you, young lady,” an ethereal voice spoke from behind the counter. The three of us jumped in surprise, a loud crunching noise coming from where Hagrid was seated… on the floor.

He stood up awkwardly. “Er, sorry ‘bout that.”

“Of no consequence,” the man behind the counter waved away. It was a really old man. His wide eyes were a pale silver, almost shining, with wild-looking hair spiking every-which-way. I thought I could see a strand of hair in a Fibonacci Sequence and another strand in a non-Euclidean shape- or was that three- no it was; Gura stop looking!

I tore my gaze away from his hair, lest my mind break. Eugh, now I’m thinking in oldey terms.

While my attention was on the old guy’s hair, he had interrogated Hagrid, and is now observing Harry. He didn’t say anything, just looking very intensely. Harry looked very uncomfortable. Suddenly, the old man’s eyes snapped over to me. I let out a squawk of alarm as he was suddenly very close to my face.

“An Atlantean, this far above the surface, how curious. How very curious.”

“Hey, old man!” I said, gaining back some courage. “What the heck’s an Atlantean, and why does everyone keep saying I’m one!” I glared at him, hands on hips and tail whipping back and forth.

He raised an eyebrow. “Interesting,” he muttered and nothing more.

“Oi!” I shouted.

The old man ignored me- the nerve!- and instead asked, “Now, Mr. Potter. Your wand arm.”

“Er- I’m right-handed, if that’s what you mean.”

The old man instructed Harry to hold out his arm before he started to measure his finger widths, lengths, and heights before moving onto the arm. I watched as he moved away from the tape measure and started picking through the shelves of boxes behind the counter. As he did so he spoke, “Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard’s wand.”

“Why’s that?” I asked, entranced despite myself.

“The wand chooses the wizard, Miss Gawr. Loyalty can be won through battle, but it won’t feel just quite the same as your own wand. Now,” the old man held out a wand he plucked from the several boxes that he picked from the shelves, “take it and give it a little wave. Beechwood and dragon heartstring- and no, not at all.” He snatched it back as soon as Harry’s hand touched it.

“Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy- not at all.”

This continued in the same manner, Ollivander holding out wands just before snatching it back as soon as Harry tried to wave it or touch it, for quite a while. The wands kept piling on the top of the desk, but they never fell off. Every wand that was added to the pile, the more animated Ollivander became. “Tricky, tricky! Tricky customers are always the best customers! We’ll find a perfect match somewhere here, I guarantee it!”

“How do you know which wand is which? Just looks like a bunch of boxes to me.” I peered over the counter, legs hanging in the air.

“An excellent question, miss Gawr!” he said, pulling out another box. “Let’s try this one, mister Potter.”

“Hey! Did you just ignore me again!”

“Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.” He handed it off to Harry.

“Hey! Stop ignoring me!”

Fireworks in red and gold shot from the end of the wand in a magical display of… uh something. It was really cool. “Oh bravo!” Ollivander exclaimed. “Yes, indeed, oh, very good.” Ollivander hummed to himself as he boxed up Harry’s wand. Harry asked him what he was muttering about, and he went on this spiel that really boiled down to that he sold the wand of the guy who gave Harry his scar. Which, honestly? It was kinda obvious if you put two and two together. Because, you know, Ollivander’s the only wand shop here.

So lost in thoughts of how obvious everything was, that I missed Ollivander appearing in my face. “Now, miss Gawr, it is your turn.”

“WAAAH!” I let out a scream and fell from where I was hanging onto the counter. I glared up at the annoying old man. He smiled, then ducked back behind the counter to start going through boxes. Grumbling under my breath about crazy old men and their crazy elliptical hair, I stood up and brushed myself off. As soon as I got back to looking up, a stick was pushed into my face.

“Beech, Unicorn hair, nine inches, quite whippy,” he said without preamble. I reached out to grasp it, but it was torn away from my hand the moment my grip was fully around it. “Not at all. Let’s see here…” he plucked another wand from the pile. “Walnut, Dragon heartstring. Ten and a half inches, unflexible.” Another wand was ripped before I could hold it. “Hmm, hmm.”

As he disappeared behind the counter into the rows, I finally noticed that the pile that Harry made when choosing his wand had disappeared. “Hey! What happened to the pile?” I looked over at Harry, who shrugged- Hagrid did too, when I looked at him.

“Charms, miss Gawr. And a few runes. Once one wand has found its wielder, those who rejected returned to their boxes and spots on the shelves.” He held out a wand. “Rowan, Dragon heartstring, seven inches, flexible.” I reached out, but it was pulled back. “Closer, I can feel it. Dragon heartstring for the core, perhaps? Choices, choices.”

I cocked my head to the side. “How’d you know which wand is gonna be fitted with the wizard?”

“I feel the magic. I cannot see it, but I can most definitely feel it. And each person is different, so is every wand.” He plucked a box from the shelf. “However, because of so many wands in my store, I cannot feel each individual wand, so I must try several different ones to narrow down which wood, core, length, and flexibility would fit the user. It’s quite a process, and I love it. The expression of wonder upon children’s faces when they match with a wand is quite unparalleled. Holly, Dragon heartstring, eleven inches, pliant.”

Taking it, I gave it a wave, but he took it back just as quickly. Nothing happened when I waved it, though, which was sad. I was hoping something would explode.

“Close, so very close! I believe the best length would be around ten inches! Flexibility is yet to be seen, though I believe that it would do good to be somewhat flexible. Maybe swishy.” He plucked two boxes from the wall. “First: Aspen, Dragon heartstring, ten and a quarter inch, swishy.” I took it, and he let me wave it before taking it back. His eyes were lit up in maniac glee. “Almost there! Second: Cypress, Dragon heartstring, ten and three-eighth inches, unusually swishy.” He handed it over almost reverently, and as soon as I gripped it, warmth filled my body.

My eyes widened in surprise. “Is this- no I shouldn’t say that. Bad Gura. BUT HOLY HECK!” I raised my wand and started waving it around, leaving a trail of sparks around. I imagined my eyes were lit up in unholy glee. The things I could do with this are endless. I was still waving it around like mad when Hagrid went to pay Ollivander.

Hagrid chuckled and told me to put it back into the box, and that I’ll get to use it later. Nodding sadly, I placed it inside the box, which Ollivander wrapped back up and handed it over.

Leaving the shop, we had one more place to go: home.

We passed through the empty Leaky Cauldron- I waved at Tom as we left, he waved back- and started towards the Tube- that’s what British people call it right? The streets weren’t as crowded as we made our way through them, though cars still trundled on their merry way.

However, with the streets being less crowded, it meant more people could see us and how much weird junk Harry had. Not that I blame them, a kid with an owl? Who keeps those kinds of pets? I chatted with Hagrid about some inane thing or another as we made our way through the Underground- oh there was a sign. I still like ‘Tube’ better- and up a few escalators.

We got a bite to eat at some fast-food joint, where I ordered two of their biggest burgers- I’m a growing girl! I need my food!- and devoured them with gusto as Harry and Hagrid had some heart-to-heart with each other. Still slurping on my soda, I waved Harry off the train, before leaving with Hagrid.

At the gates of Hogwarts, a thought occurred to me. “Hey, Hagrid.” The giant looked down at me, a questioning look beneath his bushy face. “Did you remember to tell Harry how to get onto the station?”

He paused and scratched his beard- probably where his chin was- before he let out a small noise of exclamation. “Ah. I knew I was forgetting something.”

“Should we owl him or something?”

“Nah, I reckon he’ll be fine, Harry’s a smart kid.”

“If you insist,” I shrugged.