[x] Commence planning.
You spend a few minutes contemplating the best schedule for your shopping trip. As much as you'd like to rush to Ollivander's and get your hands on a wand, you know your father's right -- that's going to be everyone's first instinct, and you'll just waste time standing in line if you try to go there first. As boring as it is, you decide to pick up all your equipment before you do anything else. It'll get it out of the way, and besides, you'd like to check out the new shop. You're curious to see how it's like a Muggle department store.
A thought occurs to you. "We should probably get this written down, shouldn't we," you say. "We might forget if we don't."
Dad nods. "An excellent idea. Why don't you go get us a quill and some parchment?"
Wait -- he's going to make you go and get it? When he has magic? You make a face.
"Can't you just conjure me some?" you say.
He quirks an eyebrow.
"Conjure you some parchment that will disappear in a few hours, and some ink that'll vanish even sooner? Astrid, be practical," he says.
"Come on, Dad," you say with a sigh. "We're in a hurry, and we'll be back in a few hours anyway, so it's not like it matters."
"Maybe not, but it's the principle of the thing," he says, then turns to look at your sister. "I've been going over this with Maggie recently. What must we always remember about magic?"
"Never point your wand at something you can't risk exploding," she rattles off, almost sing-song. Dad looks surprised, then shakes his head.
"No -- well, yes -- and that's important too. But what's the other thing we've talked about?" he says. After a few moments of Maggie looking confused, he hints, "About what magic should and shouldn't be used for?"
"Oh, that!" she exclaims. "Never use magic for something that can be managed without it."
"Very good. I'll buy you an ice cream once we get to Diagon Alley."
Your sister yelps a bit in excitement, while your expression darkens with irritation. You remember Dad's little adages from when he started teaching you magic. He has a whole list of them -- rules he considers more important than any theory, incantation, or gesture. He made you memorize them when you were Maggie's age, and you did so diligently. But you didn't agree with them all then, and you certainly don't agree with them all now. You gesture toward the glowing map that still hangs above your head.
"So that couldn't be managed without magic, but a quill and parchment can?" you say, coming off a tad snarkier than you intended to. Dad turns his attention back to you, lips tightening into a small frown.
"We don't have a map of Diagon Alley. We do, however, have plentiful parchment and ink in the other room. The sooner you fetch them, the sooner this argument will be over, and the sooner we'll be buying your school supplies," he says. "And watch that tone, young lady."
You make a disgruntled noise in the back of your throat, but concede defeat, wandering into the next room and pulling open the cabinets full of writing supplies. Dad's always been this way about magic. Maybe it's because Mum doesn't have any, or maybe that's just how things work in Russia, but you know for a fact that it's not what you've encountered in other magical households you've been to. How do you feel about that?
[ ] While you're eager to do more magic, you guess Dad has a point. Magic can be dangerous, and it can make people lazy if they let it.
[ ] You couldn't disagree more. You're a witch. You're special. There's no point in having magic at all if you don't use it.
Supplies gathered, you come back to the family room and take your seat once more, unrolling the parchment and stenciling in '1. Engleby's' at the top. You glance briefly at Dad for any indication of displeasure, but he looks on without comment.
Huh. So he really is going to let you plan this all out yourself.
You return to your thoughts on the plan. Depending on how long Engleby's takes, the line at Ollivander's may have shortened, but there will still likely be leftovers from the early morning rush, so your time may be better spent somewhere else. Anywhere would be fine, really -- so maybe your robes next? You shrug, then make the note, following it quickly up with '3. Apothecary.' Good a time as any for that smelly old place, you suppose.
"Wand next! Wand next!" Maggie interjects, peaking over your shoulder. "That'll be so much more fun than any of this other stuff."
"Quiet, Maggie," Dad says. "Let Astrid decide. This is her trip."
You pause to consider for a bit. All this 'boring' shopping is probably going to have Maggie wound up, and you don't want to deal with your kid sister's hyperactivity while you're trying to buy your supplies and make a good impression on whatever students you see around. You also had been considering how to go about buying your allowance present: a book on the Dark Arts, or the closest thing you can find at Flourish and Blotts. Dad went to Durmstrang, so he should be okay with you learning more about the subject that is never even broached at Hogwarts...but still. It would be better to seek forgiveness than to ask permission, right?
You come up with an idea.
"How about this," you say. "After Slug and Jiggers, I'll go over and buy my books, while you and Maggie go get some ice cream. We can meet back up before Ollivander's." You look up at your father. "Does that sound good?"
Evidently not as good as you'd hoped, if Dad's nervous, furrowed brow is any indication. "I don't know. I'd rather not leave you alone. You could get lost, and then Mum would kill both of us."
"Oh, come on," you say. "We've been to Flourish and Blotts more than any other shop on Diagon Alley. I know it like the back of my hand, and it's right next to the ice cream parlor anyway." You tilt your head to one side. "Weren't you talking about giving me more responsibility?"
Dad takes a long time to answer -- debating back and forth in his head, you're sure -- before he finally sighs.
"Alright. But I'm not letting you out of my sight until you're sixteen if any part of this goes wrong."
"It won't." You smile, then write down the next two shops on your list. Perfect. That only leaves the question of the final shop.
You look back up at the map of Diagon Alley, straining to see the shops Dad didn't indicate. There's always Eeylops and the Magical Menagerie, but seeing as you're not getting a pet this term, there's not much point in going there. You could reward yourself with some ice cream at Florean's, but Dad and Maggie will have gone there already, and they probably wouldn't be too hungry for food at the Leaky Cauldron either. You're thinking you might just nix the sixth shop and go home early when something catches your eye.
You can hardly contain your smile when you finally recognize it.
"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes! I didn't know that place was still open," you exclaim. "You never took us back there, Dad. I thought they'd closed."
Your father looks rather exasperated.
"We might've gone back if you and your sister hadn't put invisible music-blasting traps everywhere. The house was a minefield for a month. And Tasha still triggers them sometimes, poor dear."
That she does. You do wake up to the occasional shriek, accompanied by the echoes of an annoyingly catchy children's song.
"I won't do that again. I just want to see what they have. The owner was always nice to us, too, so we should really say hi," you declare, and confirm your decision by writing it down. Maggie giggles mischievously. You don't know exactly what you'll do at the shop, with no money to spend, but you'd like to visit it nonetheless.
Dad, looking at the last list item with hesitation, clears his throat. "Alright. Looks like we're ready to go, then." He draws his wand, flicks it, and the fireplace erupts with green light. (You may or may not mumble something about managing that without magic.)
"Astrid, you go first. Then Maggie. Then me and the trolley. If anyone gets separated, we'll meet at the Leaky Cauldron entrance."
Thankfully, you're now seasoned Floo travelers who don't sneeze and accidentally fall out at the Ministry, so a few minutes later, you've gathered at Diagon Alley and begun navigating the substantial crowds towards Engleby's.
You suddenly realize what Dad meant by his earlier comparison when you set foot in the great white building, which sticks out like a sore thumb among the older, tiled roof shops of the alley. Everything's bright -- bright and loud. All around you, trolley's piled high with cauldrons and cutting boards and omnioculars wheel themselves around, just barely dodging the shoppers as they race to their destination. You turn your head to look at your father, and words appear in front of your face, tiny fireworks bursting happily around them.
'Hogwarts First Year Special! 40% off all Portable Window and Webspinner combos!'
You startle, reflexively waving the enchantment away. It ripples for a second, only to blaze back to life, bigger and so close to your face that it brushes the tip of your nose.
'Don't let this amazing offer pass you by! Stay connected with Engleby's--'
"Finite," your father says from a few feet away, and the scarlet advertisement vanishes, leaving a puff of smoke in its wake. "Sorry about that. I forgot how vicious they were with the Hard Sell Charms here. Let's just get what we need and -- oh, for Merlin's sake --"
Before you stands an unnervingly cheery house elf. There weren't house elves anywhere near you three seconds ago.
"Good day, sir. I detected a use of magic here," he says, his wide smile never breaking. "Is everything alright?"
"Fine, fine. Everything's fine," Dad mumbles.
"Then how may I assist you today?" the elf goes on, turning to look at you. "First year shopping, I take it?"
"Yes -- and I don't want to hear about your special discount bundles, sorry," Dad replies gruffly. "Just show us where we need to go so my daughter doesn't get mauled by a trolley."
"Yes, sir. Right this way, sir." The elf skitters away, and you see that his footsteps leave little, neon green prints behind, exactly matching the color of the bedsheet uniform he wears. Dad grumbles a bit more, then grabs Maggie by the hand and follows, eyes darting about for errant carts or house elves that might leap out from nowhere. You begin to follow, but as you walk, you can't help but look around more at the store.
The shop's name says 'Everything Else.' You didn't think they meant that literally -- you see now that you very well could be mistaken. Just about every possible wizarding supply lines the walls of Engleby's, strewn about on the shelves with little rhyme or reason. Many of the various displays look to be on the verge of collapse, but even when a supply trolley slams into one, it merely rocks back and forth, fallen merchandise floating slowly back up to their original containers. If this is what Muggle department stores are really like, you don't know how they keep everything from falling over.
Sounds of effort draw your attention to your left. You look over to see a boy in a wheelchair parked below a box full of brass scales about three inches above his outstretched arm. You wonder briefly how he's avoided getting assistance from one of the legions of attendants, and consider going over to help him out, when to your right, something shimmers pink and purple, and you hear the voice of a human salesman.
"As you can see, this new model of Window is even larger than the last. More room for Webspinners means a faster, longer lasting Web connection, and if you make use of our excellent first year discount, we'll send you a replacement batch directly to Hogwarts at no additional fee."
You hear a girl make an impressed noise. You have to admit, you're a bit curious -- that's the second time you've heard about Windows and Webspinners, and you have absolutely no idea what they are. But you also see that the steps of the house elf leading your family are fading away, and that boy could still use your help too.
You think about what you should do.
[ ] Go help the boy.
[ ] Go investigate this 'Window' thing.
[ ] Follow the house elf and your father. Best not to get lost.
