Status: One Direction in Hogwarts is EPIC <33
It's Magical
Aleah Rosewood
The buzz of the crowd made my hair stand on end. I have never been in such a large group of people. I squeezed my father's hand as we walked through the streets. My eyes wandered from the kids running around wearing cloaks and waving wands to the many different shops that lined the streets.
"Aleah," my father said my name and pointed toward the store called 'Ollivanders'.
My eyes lite up at the sight of this magical place that I have only read about. This would be my true test.
Since I can remember I have been...different. I have been able make things happen without really even understanding what I had done until much later. My father was the first to notice my special gifts and told me all about a place called "Hogwarts" in which he had read about when he was a child, but he never knew if this place was real. I was intrigued by what my father had told me and I began researching all there was to know about being a witch or a wizard. And for most of my life I just allowed the fact that I may be a "witch" be the reason behind my lack of friends while I was in school.
I pulled my father's hand as we entered the shop, not wanting him to leave my side.
There were a few other kids my age inside the shop waiting to be called out of the crowd to pick their wand. However, when I walked in I noticed the clerk's eyes dart toward me and a strange smile appeared on his face.
"You," he spoke softly as he pointed toward me.
I looked up at my father as my eyes grew wide. My father nodded silently and wore a warm and pleasant smile on his face. I slowly let go of his hand and took a few steps forward until I was face to face with the clerk.
"What is your name, love?" he asked.
"Aleah Rosewood," I replied in a whisper.
The old man smiled at me and nodded as if he knew what my answer was going to be. "I have just the wand for you my dear."
The man dissappeared behind the counter and then returned moments later with a beautifully crafted wand.
He gently handed it to me and said, "Wave it at that flower pot over there, my dear."
I did as the man said and as if by magic the flowers began to blossom and flourish in their pot. The feeling that ran through my body was unexplainable and I knew from that moment that everything I had read must be true. I am a witch.
The old man wore a rather large smile as he watched me work my magic on the one lifeless plant. "9 1/2 inches long, made of rosewood and Veela hair. The wand has chosen you, Mr. Rosewood. Keep it close to your heart, you will need it later in life."
I was dumbfounded by the man's words. Did he know that I was a witch? What did he mean the wand had chosen me?
I looked over my shoulder at my father who smiled brightly. I turned to thank the clerk, but when I turned around he was no where in sight. I sighed and carefully carried my wand over to my father.
"That's a beauty," he said, admiring my wand.
I nodded and held onto it tightly as we exited the shop and entered the streets. We took just a few steps before we met an older women with neither a smile or a frown on her face. Her stone expression intimidated me and I thought for sure I had done something wrong and I was about to be punished.
Her expression lightened a little bit when she realized ther affect she had on me. "Ms. Rosewood, it has come to my attention that you have selected a wand and there is a great deal of magic running through your veins. We have not had the chance to mail this letter to you yet, but one behalf of Hogwarts I would like to personally hand deliver it to you." she said, handing me an envelope. I slowly unwrapped the packaging and opened the letter.
Dear Ms. Rosewood,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
I reread the first sentence over and over again. This could not really be happening. My father read the letter over my shoulder and he was in just as much awe as I was.
"Dad, is this real?" I asked him, taking my eyes off of the letter only for a moment before rereading the peice of paper.
"Of course it is real, darling," the old women interrupted my father before he had the chance to speak, "Come along now, we have a lot of preparations to make."
"Aleah," my father said my name and pointed toward the store called 'Ollivanders'.
My eyes lite up at the sight of this magical place that I have only read about. This would be my true test.
Since I can remember I have been...different. I have been able make things happen without really even understanding what I had done until much later. My father was the first to notice my special gifts and told me all about a place called "Hogwarts" in which he had read about when he was a child, but he never knew if this place was real. I was intrigued by what my father had told me and I began researching all there was to know about being a witch or a wizard. And for most of my life I just allowed the fact that I may be a "witch" be the reason behind my lack of friends while I was in school.
I pulled my father's hand as we entered the shop, not wanting him to leave my side.
There were a few other kids my age inside the shop waiting to be called out of the crowd to pick their wand. However, when I walked in I noticed the clerk's eyes dart toward me and a strange smile appeared on his face.
"You," he spoke softly as he pointed toward me.
I looked up at my father as my eyes grew wide. My father nodded silently and wore a warm and pleasant smile on his face. I slowly let go of his hand and took a few steps forward until I was face to face with the clerk.
"What is your name, love?" he asked.
"Aleah Rosewood," I replied in a whisper.
The old man smiled at me and nodded as if he knew what my answer was going to be. "I have just the wand for you my dear."
The man dissappeared behind the counter and then returned moments later with a beautifully crafted wand.
He gently handed it to me and said, "Wave it at that flower pot over there, my dear."
I did as the man said and as if by magic the flowers began to blossom and flourish in their pot. The feeling that ran through my body was unexplainable and I knew from that moment that everything I had read must be true. I am a witch.
The old man wore a rather large smile as he watched me work my magic on the one lifeless plant. "9 1/2 inches long, made of rosewood and Veela hair. The wand has chosen you, Mr. Rosewood. Keep it close to your heart, you will need it later in life."
I was dumbfounded by the man's words. Did he know that I was a witch? What did he mean the wand had chosen me?
I looked over my shoulder at my father who smiled brightly. I turned to thank the clerk, but when I turned around he was no where in sight. I sighed and carefully carried my wand over to my father.
"That's a beauty," he said, admiring my wand.
I nodded and held onto it tightly as we exited the shop and entered the streets. We took just a few steps before we met an older women with neither a smile or a frown on her face. Her stone expression intimidated me and I thought for sure I had done something wrong and I was about to be punished.
Her expression lightened a little bit when she realized ther affect she had on me. "Ms. Rosewood, it has come to my attention that you have selected a wand and there is a great deal of magic running through your veins. We have not had the chance to mail this letter to you yet, but one behalf of Hogwarts I would like to personally hand deliver it to you." she said, handing me an envelope. I slowly unwrapped the packaging and opened the letter.
Dear Ms. Rosewood,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
I reread the first sentence over and over again. This could not really be happening. My father read the letter over my shoulder and he was in just as much awe as I was.
"Dad, is this real?" I asked him, taking my eyes off of the letter only for a moment before rereading the peice of paper.
"Of course it is real, darling," the old women interrupted my father before he had the chance to speak, "Come along now, we have a lot of preparations to make."