An Unlikely Coven

*

"I swear to God, Lavender, the first thing we're teaching that kid is how to control the appearance changing spell....."

"Cool it, Roger," Lavender Weasley shot back. "He's fifteen, give him a break! And call me Cassie, would you? We can't exactly let it out that we're back, you know."

"All right.....Cassie," Ron said, with a glance at his son's hair. "But really, that's terrible on him. People are looking at us, and thinking that we're awful for letting our son do that."

"It's not as if I like the fact that our son has seaweed for hair, either. But at least he doesn't look like......well, you. Or me, for that matter. We'd be dead." Lavender adjusted her sunglasses as she walked through Diagon Alley. "I'm still a little freaked out at all this- I feel as if we're going to be recognized at any second."

"Don't worry. As long as I can keep this damn scar covered, no one's the wiser," Harry Potter put in, from behind. "That's the only thing I'm concerned about," he added.

Hermione Potter reached up, and smoothed his currently blond hair over the scar affectionately. "Just pretend it isn't there, dear, and no one will notice."

"And don't talk about it too loudly, either." Draco and Ginny Malfoy walked faster, to catch up. "Can't have anyone overhearing things, otherwise, it'll be all over the Daily Prophet," Draco said quietly.

"I really don't like this," Linda Potter muttered to Joey Malfoy. "They're all acting so serious. It's morbid, really."

"Linda, if anyone finds out who our parents are, we may as well forget life," Joey replied. "They have to keep this hush-hush until we're able to fight."

Bobby Weasley fiddled with a lock of mossy green hair. "And God knows when that'll be."

Linda reached up to rub her eyes, but stopped herself. "I can't wait until I can go back to looking like myself. This whole eye-makeup thing is driving me batty."

"Wash it off, Einstein." Joey rolled his eyes. "For someone with such great grades, you're so dense sometimes."

"Be grateful I get those grades, dorkwad. Otherwise, who would you copy off of?" Linda raised her eyebrow in a show of superiority.

"Jerry Liebowitz, of course. All I'd have to do is promise him that you'd go to the Prom with him."

Linda smacked him with her purse. "You know what, Joey?"

"Um.....that being hit with the gigantic-mondo-mutant-purse-from-Hell hurts tremendously?" Joey rubbed his arm.

Linda put her purse back on her shoulder. "Well, that too. But what I was going to say was....."

"Ooh, ooh! Linda, can I please say it?" Bobby bounced up and down on his feet, hand raised in the air, in a mockery of a schoolboy who knows the answer.

"Very well, Robert," Linda responded, nose in the air.

Bobby turned to Joey. "I think the answer is.....you're a complete ass!"

"Nice work, Bobby," Linda giggled. "You get an A-plus and a star on your paper."

Joey glared. "Teacher's pet."

"Whatever you say, Eddie Van Halen," Bobby returned, snickering.

Joey, who didn't get the joke, squeezed one eye shut and stared off into space with the other, thinking. Linda, however, understood.

"Bobby, don't get any bad ideas....." she warned.

"What? It's true, and you're a blind girl....." Bobby said pointedly.

Joey opened up his eyes. "I've thought long and hard on this, and I can sufficiently say that I really don't get it."

"Joey, you've got it made, got it made, got it made....." Bobby tugged on one of his dreadlocks.

Joey still looked puzzled. "Huh?"

Linda sighed. "Never mind, Joey, never mind. You don't want to understand it. If you think too much about it, your brain will start to hurt."

"My head hurts already, with this idiot pulling on my hair," Joey complained, swatting at Bobby's hand. "It's not enough that I have the hair of a bad '90s rapper, but you have to remind me of it."

"Don't sweat it," Linda said reassuringly. "I look like a nuclear cheerleader."

"And I look like I fell into a toilet," Bobby said grimly. "Linda-no-it was just an analogy-" he ducked as Linda started after him with a Sani-Wipe.

"Hey, stop fooling around like that," Ron called, running to catch up with the kids. "The last thing you want to do is call attention to yourselves."

"Right, Dad," Bobby agreed, as the rest of the adults joined them. "See no, hear no, speak no."

"Interesting statement, in this case," his mother sighed. "What did you do now, Bobby?" she asked, noticing Linda and the Sani-Wipe.

"Fell into a theoretical toilet, Mom. A figment of the imagination, yet Linda thinks I need sanitation."

Hermione grabbed the flying Sani-Wipe from her daughter's grip. "Jesus Christ, Linda, you need a twelve-step program for these things. You're addicted."

"Ma, there's no such thing as being too clean!" Linda protested, as Hermione threw it in the nearest garbage bin.

"Linda, dear," Harry said bemusedly, "you're like a little old woman with those things. You really should go into medicine- there, you could put that to use."

"Ha-Jim, have you looked at her marks in chemistry lately?" Joey chuckled. "Linda can't tell water from hydrogen peroxide."

"You have a point, Joey," Hermione responded, smiling. "Linda, I love you, but really, you're not scientifically driven."

Linda wrinkled her nose. "I hate science, and I suck at it. You all know that, duh squared."

"The one subject I'm better than you in....." Joey put in, in a singsong voice. "The one area where my superiority is blatant....."

"Hey, Dad," Bobby said suddenly, "Isn't this the place where you said we had to stop?"

"Yes, I suppose it is," Ron said, looking up at the sign reading, 'Gringotts Bank'. "Come on, we've got to change our money. Dollars don't mean a thing here."

The troupe walked past the goblins guarding the entrance (although the kids were fascinated), and into the magnificent marble building.

"Wow," Linda, Bobby, and Joey said simultaneously.

"Yes, rather impressive, isn't it?" Hermione replied, looking around. "After all these years, it's good to be back."

"Ah-yes, hello, I'd like to change Muggle money," Harry was saying to a goblin at the counter.

"Of course, sir." The goblin said calmly. His eyes, however, widened, as he saw the significant sum of money Harry was taking out of his wallet.

"American Muggle money, can you beat that?" the goblin said to himself quietly. "Yes, yes, sir, I'll be right back....." he turned and went into a large vault. Nearby, five other goblins were doing much the same thing, with the same reaction, as money appeared from Hermione's, Draco's, Ginny's, Ron's, and Lavender's wallets and purses.

Fifteen minutes (and several hundred Galleons) later, the group was back out on the sidewalk.

"So, Dad, where are we going now?" Linda asked impatiently, craning her neck in order to see more of the magnificent little street.

"Ollivanders," Harry replied, walking down the sidewalk. "You need wands, and Ollivanders is the only place to get them. The shops in the States really don't compare with the quality of the merchandise across the pond."

They saw many strange and interesting things while walking to Ollivanders- people in cloaks, owls swooping all around, strange animals.....

"Here we are," Hermione said, stopping in front of a narrow, shabby building. 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.', read the peeling gold letters on the sign.

"This shop will give you the creeps, guaranteed," Ginny whispered. "Just try to ignore it, and don't tell the man who runs it your true name."

The three teenagers nodded silently as they followed their parents into the musty shop.

There was barely enough room in the place for all nine of them; a tight fit, indeed. Boxes and boxes were stacked up to the ceiling, making the place look a bit like a library.

"Ah, customers!" A voice cried suddenly. Looking up, Linda saw that the voice belonged to a bent little man, who was trotting over to them.

"Yes, yes, suppose you're getting ready for Hogwarts, though you look a little old....." the man surveyed Linda, Bobby, and Joey with silvery eyes. "A little familiar, too."

Harry's eyes grew large. "Oh, um- yes, you've probably seen them on the television- they do commercials for, uh, brooms."

"Of course," the man conceded, not without a suspicious glance. "I am Mr. Ollivander, the owner of this shop for many generations. And you are....." he paused expectantly.

"Linda Patrickson."

"Bobby Waltham."

"Joey Manchester."

The three said this all at once. Mr. Ollivander, however, was not a bit fazed.

"Yes, yes. Let's get you started." He pulled out a measuring tape, and let it go to work on the kids, while he walked to the back of the shop to get wands. Linda, Bobby, and Joey, of course, were fascinated by this- a measuring tape, doing all the work by itself!

The adults, however, had weightier matters on their minds.

"Are you getting the feeling that Mr. Ollivander knows something?" Harry whispered in Hermione's ear.

"If he didn't before, he sure is now. Hon, that was the lamest excuse I've ever heard for anything. 'They pitch brooms'- honestly.....' Hermione sniggered.

"And you can think of something better?"

Hermione paused. "Actually, not right now. Let me get back to you on that."

There was a shuffling noise, as Mr. Ollivander returned with several long, thin boxes.

"All right- Miss Patrickson, try this one- seven inches, beechwood, dragon heartstrings- no? How about this one, nine inches, pliable, yew, bobcat's claw....."

Linda tried wand after wand, feeling very silly. "I look like a lunatic," she muttered to Joey.

Mr. Ollivander, meanwhile, was undaunted. "Let's see, this one. Ah, yes! Ten inches, pine, phoenix feather." He offered the wand to Linda.

Linda gingerly accepted it, rather bored. "All right." She brought it down through the air.

Suddenly, the air around the stick of wood seemed to ripple; blue and green swirls of mist were generated from the rings.

Harry and Hermione applauded.

"Well, then, Miss Patrickson, I suppose that's the one, then." Mr. Ollivander plucked the wand from her grasp, and wrapped it in paper. "Who's next?"

Bobby reluctantly stepped forward.

"Ah, Monsieur Tête-Vert!" Mr. Ollivander proclaimed. "Let's see what we can do....."

One hour and four hundred-twenty-seven wands later, Bobby was the proud owner of a twelve and a half inch mahogany wand, instilled with the horn of a unicorn. Instead of green and blue whorls, however, Bobby's wand let out tiny bubbles, and burped softly.

Ron rolled his eyes, and Lavender buried her face in her hands. "Why, why, why? Of all the wands in this shop, why does our son have to take to the one that belches?"

Fortunately, the grassy-haired boy was much too preoccupied with his new possession to notice his parents' mortification.

"This is great!" he cried happily.

"Ooh, can I go now?" Joey asked excitedly.

"Well, duh, dumbass, you're the only one left." Linda shook her head wearily.

"Linda-"

"I know, Ma. Don't swear." Linda sat on the floor with a thump. "Is it my fault he's an idiot? No. So why do I always get yelled at for pointing that out?" she grumbled.

"Fine, Joey, go. Just please, don't destroy anything that I might have to pay for....." Draco looked pained.

"Sure thing, Dad." Joey pulled himself up from the floor, and eagerly bounded over to Mr. Ollivander.

Ginny winced. "For God's sake, Joseph, we don't need to have the Suffolk County pole-vault champion showing off his skills in an enclosed space."

Joey ignored her, and picked up a wand. "Can I try this one?" Without waiting for an answer, he waved it around.

All of a sudden, there was a loud BOOM, and the whole shop was enveloped in dust.

"Joey, what the hell did you do?" Draco choked out.

"I dunno, Dad." Joey cocked his head, looking rather comical with dust coating his dreadlocks. What made the scene even more bizarre was the light shining down on him, making him look like a wayward angel. Where was that light coming from?

Linda looked up, everyone else following suit. "Oh, no....."

Joey had inadvertently given Ollivanders Wand Shop a new skylight.

"Joseph Lu...Louie Manchester," Ginny started, catching herself, "you are in so much trouble."

Joey coughed. "Uh-oh."

Mr. Ollivander, however, was amused. "Fear not, Mr. Manchester," he said, oddly calm. "Allow me." He pointed his own wand at the ceiling, muttered something, and bata-bing, bata-boom, the skylight was no more.

Shaking the dust out of his face, Joey exclaimed, "Wow! Awesome!"

Mr. Ollivander smiled. "Of course. Now, if you'll allow me to take the wands and ring them up, I'll be back shortly. Must do a bit of inventory." He shuffled off, back into the stacks.

Linda rolled her eyes for the millionth time that day. "Joey, honestly, you are such a dork."

"Oh, like you're not. Just because I didn't make pretty colors with my wand doesn't mean that the effect was any less spectacular. I bet no one's ever done that before!"

"On the contrary," his uncle corrected him. "My brother Fred did that when buying his first wand- except that he took off the whole roof."

"COOL!" Bobby's eyes bugged out of his head. He tapped his wand, which let out a satisfied 'urp'.

Linda wrinkled her nose. "That is so disgusting."

"Deal with it, Lin. It's staying." Bobby stroked the wand like a beloved pet.

"God." Linda twirled her wand around in her fingers.

*

What a strange girl, Mr. Ollivander thought. How sarcastic. He took another peek at the group gathered in his store- no doubt about it, they were the ones he was supposed to be on the lookout for. Three kids, six adults, loaded with money. Reasonably intelligent, although the two boys were a little bit on the juvenile side. As for the parents.....

Although they'd obviously altered their appearance, they were still the same kids he'd serviced years ago. No way he'd ever forget any of them. Ollivander remembered every wand he'd ever sold to anyone, and the wands that the adults were carrying were easily recognizable to him. It was certain.

He turned around, and picked up the phone. He dialed a number, and was put through.

"Hel-hello? Yes, sir. It's Ollivander. Yes, yes, they're here- just bought wands, in fact. You might want to- yes, yes, that'll be fabulous. I'll see you then."

Mr. Ollivander hung up the receiver, and turned to the fireplace to await his conversant's arrival.

A whooshing sound was soon emitted, and the customers in the shop turned to look. A figure came slowly into focus. Into the room stepped a man that none of the people in the shop- except Ollivander, of course- expected to see.

Harry gasped. "My God, what are you doing here?"

*