The public library remains one of the last truly inclusive spaces in our community—welcoming to everyone, regardless of race, sexual orientation, or income. It offers a wealth of resources without asking anything in return. It is not a place for political agendas.
I’m not a parent. I’m not a teacher. I’m not a librarian.
I’m a private tutor. I help children thrive—both inside and outside the classroom. Many of the parents I work with are immigrants whose first language isn’t English, and some have resources that most families can only dream of.
One of my students is a nine-year-old who absolutely loves to read. I’ve worked with him since he was four, when he didn’t speak a word of English. I taught him to read. Today, he reads at a 10th-grade level. As someone partially responsible for his education, one of my most important tasks is choosing the books he reads. I stay current on newly published titles, follow his favorite authors, discover rising voices, and research books that reflect his interests—as well as books that challenge him to grow.
This past school year alone, I’ve purchased over $2,000 worth of books for him—ranging from novels and comic books to science texts, historical fiction, and nonfiction. Over his lifetime, it’s probably closer to $10,000. He’s read them all. But the reality is, most parents don’t have that kind of budget.
That’s why many families rely on the public library.
They trust that the books on those shelves were chosen by educated professionals with children’s growth in mind. They trust the library to broaden their kids’ horizons—especially families who didn’t get the chance to read widely themselves and want more for their children.
Immigrant parents. Working-class parents. Parents who may not speak English fluently or have formal education. They trust me to guide their children’s learning. And they trust librarians to do the same.
Librarians do this work not for power or profit, but out of a deep belief in education and access. That’s their job—and they do it well.
This vote was never about “protecting our children”—it was about government overreach, the fight against censorship, and the defense of our fundamental rights.
So when someone tries to turn the library into a political battlefield, it’s not just offensive—it’s dangerous.
Now, I’m not saying you shouldn’t trust the judgment of a teen-mom high school dropout and Chad “Porn Man” Williams to curate your children’s reading material— actually… yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. The choice is ultimately yours– and if a parent wishes to defer their child’s education to these two, I suggest they contact Williams’ office for the time and location for his next book club meeting.
The train hissed and groaned as it slowed to a stop, steam billowing around the windows. With a final jolt, the Hogwarts Express came to rest beneath the deepening dusk sky. All around them, the chatter of excited students rose like birdsong, echoing off the nearby cliffs.
Duchess stood up, smoothing the sleeves of her black robe. Melody bounced in her seat beside her, already reaching for her trunk.
“We’re here! Do you think the castle’s really as big as they say?” Melody asked, her eyes wide.
“Probably bigger,” Duchess said quietly, grabbing her satchel from under her seat.
Melody stopped tugging on her trunk and turned to Duchess. “Wait—where’s all your stuff?”
Duchess froze for a moment, her hand still clutching the worn leather strap of her bag. She remembered Hermione’s voice, firm and clear: “Never tell anyone about the satchel, not even your friends. It’s protected.”
Duchess pasted on a polite smile. “Oh, my mum sent my things ahead of time. She thought it would be easier.”
Melody blinked, then shrugged. “Wish my mum thought of that.”
Outside, students were hauling their trunks off the train, stacking them on the stone platform, and running off into the fog, their laughter trailing behind them.
A booming voice rang out over the crowd: “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!”
The sea of students parted slightly, and a woman nearly seven feet tall stood at the edge of the platform, waving one enormous arm. Her thick brown braid was slung over one shoulder, and her cloak flapped dramatically in the breeze.
“Oi, you lot! First years this way! I’m Olyvette—Olyvette Maxim Hagrid!”
Duchess and Melody joined the trickle of younger students moving toward her. Olyvette beamed down at them.
“My dad was Rubeus Hagrid,” she announced proudly. “He’s the one who saved Harry Potter when You-Know-Who first tried to kill him as a baby. Dad helped Harry through every year at Hogwarts—well, six and a half years, anyway.”
The kids around Duchess exchanged glances.
“Wait,” Melody whispered, “why only six and a half?”
“Harry left in the middle of seventh year,” Olyvette explained, clearly overhearing. “Ran off to help defeat You-Know-Who. But after he finished him off, Hogwarts gave him an honorary degree anyway. He earned it. Him and my dad are still mates. As for my mum—she was headmistress of Beauxbatons in France. Both retired now. They’re off traveling the world, looking for magical beasts.”
The students oohed and murmured in awe.
“Now then, follow me! Boats this way!” Olyvette said.
They trudged down a narrow path, the mist thickening the farther they went. As they rounded a bend, the lake came into view—vast, black, and eerily still. Small wooden boats bobbed at the shore, lanterns flickering on their prows.
Duchess shivered. The cold cut straight through her robe.
“You cold?” Melody asked, noticing.
“A little,” Duchess admitted. “I’m used to… well, it doesn’t really get cold where I’m from.”
Melody grinned. “You mean the Southern California place again?”
Duchess nodded.
They climbed into a boat with two other first-years. Duchess wrapped her arms tightly around her satchel, trying not to let her teeth chatter. The water beneath them was pitch black, like spilled ink, and Duchess could see nothing beneath the surface—no fish, no reflections, no light.
The boat rocked slightly as it moved, paddling itself as if steered by an invisible hand. Around them, dozens of boats drifted silently across the glassy lake. Above, the castle loomed—lit up in golden warmth against the navy sky, its towers and spires reflecting in the water below.
“It’s beautiful,” Melody whispered.
Duchess said nothing. She was too busy watching the water, hoping she wouldn’t see anything… or worse, that something might see her.
When they reached the dock, Duchess hesitated.
“C’mon,” Melody said, hopping out.
But Duchess’s legs felt locked. One misstep and she’d be in the freezing water.
“Need help?” Olyvette called from the front.
Duchess shook her head and stepped off the boat, careful to avoid the tiny gap between wood and stone. Her boots landed safely, and she let out a slow breath.
“Form two lines now! Let’s keep it tidy!” Olyvette called.
The students fell in line, and Duchess found herself walking behind Melody, the path winding slowly upward toward the immense front doors of Hogwarts.
The castle was close now, glowing in the mist like a beacon. Duchess tied her satchel underneath her robes, the only warm thing she had, and followed the others into the unknown.
Melody bounced in her seat, unwrapping a Pumpkin Pastie. “You have to try one—like a warm hug in pastry form!” Duchess smiled politely. Melody pushed a box of Bertie Bott’s toward her. “Every Flavor Beans—every flavor. I once got sardine and soap. Roulette for your tongue!” She pulled out a Chocolate Frog next. “They jump! Eat it fast. And it comes with a famous witch or wizard card.” A frog leapt past Duchess’s elbow. “Oops!” Melody giggled. “Last—Cauldron Cakes. Gooey, chocolatey, and technically not cursed anymore.” Duchess raised an eyebrow. “Anymore?” Melody winked. “Don’t worry. I only brought safe snacks.”
A trolley clattered to a stop outside their compartment. A plump witch with curly gray hair peeked in.
“Anything off the trolley, dears?”
Melody’s eyes lit up. “Yes, please! Oh, Duchess, you have to try—”
But Duchess was already standing. “We’ll take two of everything,” she said, reaching for her satchel.
The witch blinked. “Two of everything?”
Duchess smiled. “To thank Melody for all her treats.”
Moments later, their compartment was overflowing with Cauldron Cakes, Pumpkin Pasties, Chocolate Frogs, and Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.
They sat cross-legged on the train seats, surrounded by wrappers and laughter.
The next week, Kim and Ben woke Duchess up early in their hotel room at 7AM. It was time to go to the train station.
The morning fog curled around King’s Cross Station, dampening the cobblestones and softening the world to a hush. Duchess stood between her parents, her small hand tucked firmly into her mother’s elbow. Her glittering silver hair caught the soft light as she turned to stare at the towering woman who had just approached them—Hermione Granger, Minister of Magic herself.
“Good morning,” Hermione said with a warm smile that felt both familiar and dazzling. “You must be Duchess.”
Duchess nodded, her other hand tightening around the handle of her golden cat carrier. Hermione gently took it from her.
“Let me,” she said. “I adore cats.”
The orange tabby inside blinked slowly through the grates as if it, too, recognized the gravity of the moment.
Kim, Duchess’s mother, squeezed her daughter’s arm as they walked, her own voice low and uncertain. “I don’t know where we’re going, either,” she admitted softly. “But just stay close.”
Hermione led them briskly through the station toward Platforms 9 and 10. “We’re headed to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters,” she explained. “To get there, you just walk straight through that wall.”
Ben laughed nervously. “I beg your pardon?”
“Don’t overthink it,” Hermione said. “Just a bit of speed and don’t hesitate.”
Duchess looked up at the solid brick archway and took a breath. With her mother’s fingers wrapped around her elbow and her heart pounding in her chest, they rushed forward—then vanished cleanly through the barrier.
The other side was something out of a dream. The air smelled faintly of smoke and sugar. A gleaming red steam engine—the Hogwarts Express—sat puffing on the tracks. Wizard families bustled around them, cloaks fluttering, trunks levitating, owls hooting impatiently in cages overhead. Children were everywhere, some already in their school robes, others still in jeans and sneakers, holding wands like they were toy swords.
Duchess turned to her parents, her voice caught somewhere between awe and goodbye. She threw her arms around them, first her father, then her mother, holding tight as the seconds dwindled.
Kim turned to Hermione, anxious. “Can she bring her phone? How will we talk to her?”
Hermione hesitated. “I’m afraid Muggle technology doesn’t work well at Hogwarts—the magic interferes with it. But don’t worry. I’ll set up a way for her to check in with you regularly. I promise.”
That was all the reassurance they would get. With a final kiss to her daughter’s silver hair, Kim stepped back, slipping her hand into Ben’s. The two of them would be on a plane back to the States within the hour, the rest of their day swallowed in quiet disbelief.
Hermione guided Duchess toward the train. “Go ahead and sit anywhere. The trolley will come by shortly—you can buy a treat if you like,” and Hermione turned around and left the trolley so quickly, Duchess didn’t even notice. It was like she just disappeared into thin air.
Duchess stepped onto the train with trembling legs, her cat carrier bumping gently against her knee. Most compartments were already half-full, but she finally spotted one with a single girl seated by the window. The girl wore plain black robes, just like hers. No house emblem yet.
“Hi,” Duchess said, sliding the door open. “Can I sit here?”
The girl looked up and grinned. “Of course.”
She had short purple hair—vivid purple—and eyes like storm clouds.
“I’m Melody,” she said. “First year too?” she asked, seeing Duchess’s robe didn’t have a house emblem either.
“Yeah,” Duchess replied, settling across from her. “I’m Duchess.”
Melody twirled a strand of her hair between her fingers. “I’m a Metamorphmagus,” she added casually. “I can change how I look—my hair, my face—but only one thing at a time. I wanted purple today.” Duchess hadn’t asked, but Melody could tell she was curious by how awestruck she looked.
Duchess blinked. “You can do that without a wand?”
“Mm-hmm. Just born with it. You have brilliant hair!” Duchess blushed. “Is it like that all the time?”
“Yes. I was just born like this. People always wondered why I looked so different. I’m half Asian, and my mom has jet-black hair, while my dad has blonde hair. Who knows what happened to me… It’s kind of funny, though. Sometimes it’s more blue than silver, and sometimes it’s more silver than blue. I can’t control it, though.”
“I love it!” Duchess smiled at Melody, whose hair had turned back to her natural brown.
The train rumbled beneath them, soft and steady like a heartbeat. Duchess leaned her head against the window for a moment, watching the blurred streaks of green hills fly past. Across from her, Melody shifted in her seat, her legs crisscrossed, her vivid purple hair catching the chandelier’s glow.
“I love your accent,” Melody said suddenly, her voice full of curiosity. “Where are you from?”
Duchess smiled. “California.”
Melody’s eyes lit up. “No way! I know all about California! That’s where they make all the movies and television shows, right? My parents are both wizards, but they let me watch Muggle telly growing up. I’m obsessed. I don’t get how they make such amazing shows without magic.”
Duchess laughed softly. “They use technology—cameras, special effects, editing. People call it ‘TV magic,’ but it’s not real magic. Just a lot of time, effort, and… patience, I guess.”
Melody leaned forward, clearly fascinated. “That’s wild. You’d think they were using spells. The dragons, the explosions—have you seen that show with the thrones and the icy zombies? I swear those dragons looked real.”
“Yeah, the effects are amazing,” Duchess agreed. “But I’m not from L.A., where all the studios are. I live about two hours south of there, near the beach.”
Melody tilted her head. “What’s it like?”
“Quiet,” Duchess said, her voice softer now. “More natural. There’s salt in the air all the time, and the wind comes off the ocean like it’s bringing you secrets. Everything slows down at night. I think… I think I’ll miss it.”
Melody studied her for a moment, her purple ponytail swaying gently as the train rocked.
“You’ve got a bit of ocean in you,” she said. “That calm sparkle, y’know? You’ll be okay. Hogwarts has its own kind of magic.”
Duchess smiled again, this time a little deeper, a little steadier.
“I hope so,” she said.
The train gave a low whistle and began to rumble forward. Duchess leaned back, a swirl of emotion tugging at her chest—excitement, fear, wonder, everything layered on top of everything.
Melody tilted her head. “It’s a long trip—about nine hours. You should nap. It’s going to be a big evening.”
Duchess nodded. How can she nap sitting up? Plus, the train was bustling with such interesting personalities, she couldn’t help but stay wide awake and soak everything in. Melody couldn’t nap either. She talked and talked like she hadn’t had anyone to talk to in months.
“When we get there,” Melody continued, “we’ll get sorted into houses, eat a huge dinner, and then they’ll show us where we sleep. Tomorrow, after breakfast, one of the prefects from your house will give you a tour and all that.”
“I’m glad I’ve met you. I don’t know anyone there. No one’s told me anything about the school.”
“Well, I don’t know everything. I only know what my sister has told me. She’s 2 years older and she’s already at Hogwarts. She answered a lot of questions for me at home, but she said she’s only answering them now so I don’t talk to her at school. I’m supposed to pretend I don’t know her. So, I guess I don’t know anyone there, either.”
“You know me!” Duchess said brightly.
As the landscape blurred outside the window and the steady rhythm of the train lulled her, Duchess rested her cheek against the seat back and exhaled. As she finally shut her eyes, she saw Melody’s hair start to sparkle just like her own.
“Next, you need to get your school robes. You will need formal school robes and everyday robes. Everyday robes are black with the school logo and your house logo on it. You won’t know what house you are a part of until you go through the sorting ceremony. That is… you will find out what house you are a part of and you will live and take classes with your group. Now, you’re not required to have your house logo on your robe. Some people are proud of their house, some people think it’s too cliquey, but all the houses get along very well, now. It was more competitive when I was in school.”
“I need a whole new wardrobe?” Duchess asked.
“You can wear whatever you want when you’re not in class, as long as it is school-appropriate,” Hermione replied with a warning. Duchess didn’t think she had anything that wasn’t school appropriate. Why would she?
“Where do we go for that?” Duchess asked, eager to visit the next shop.
“Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.” Hermione and Duchess continued down the path together.
Duchess stepped through the arched doorway of Madame Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions, the little bell above the door chiming like a charmed teacup. Bolts of shimmering fabric floated midair, sorting themselves by color, while a mannequin twirled in the corner wearing a velvet green cape that glowed faintly at the hem. Duchess blinked at the soft golden light filtering through the enchanted windows and took a cautious step forward, her worn trainers squeaking slightly on the polished wooden floor. A plump witch with spectacles perched on the end of her nose appeared from behind a curtain, a measuring tape already wriggling in her hand like a charmed snake.
“First year, are you?” Madame Malkin asked, her eyes already scanning Duchess’s frame.
“Yes, ma’am,” Duchess said, smoothing the front of her Muggle hoodie. “I need… everything.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place. Step up, darling.” Madame Malkin gestured to a footstool with a tap of her wand. “You’ll want at least three sets—black for daily wear, plus one for formal functions. Hold still, now.” As the measuring tape wrapped itself around Duchess’s waist and shoulders, she caught sight of herself in the tall mirror. For a moment, she saw not just herself, but the student she was about to become—robes billowing, wand in hand, spellbooks under one arm. She couldn’t help but grin.
“Put your animals over on that counter there, or give them to your parents to hold,” she requested.
“No,” Duchess said. “They’re mine.”
“How am I going to measure you?”
“I’ve never had a pet before. Please?” Madame Malkin let out a big exhale,
“Okay…” As Madame Malkin took her measurements, she looked up and smiled at her parents, who were tearfully watching her get ready to leave them for the year. “Now, since you’re a first-year, we don’t know what house you will be in. I’m just going to use the Hufflepuff emblems temporarily so I can make sure everything is in the right place when I take your measurements. It’s the only house emblem I can use. The kids who think they’ll be in Slytherin don’t want to wear anything with Gryffindor on it. And vice versa. The ravenclaws and hufflepuffs don’t mind any emblem, so it was just easier to pick one of those houses. I just can’t measure properly without the emblem on it. It might be too high or too low. Don’t worry, though, after you get sorted into your house, the emblem will transform automatically to reflect that.”
“How many will she need?” Kimberly asked Madam Malkin.
“It will be her daily wear, so we don’t want just one robe, do we? Arms out.” Madam Malkin instructed, and the tape measure flew, as if measuring the Duchess on its own. Madam Malkin walked over to her parents with a notepad.
“She will only need to purchase one set per year. Children grow fast, you know. So, I design the robes to fit her perfectly, but will alter them up to 2 inches. It automatically adjusts throughout the year, and whenever she needs new robes, she can come or, at the beginning of the next term, get new ones made that will automatically adjust another 2 inches as she needs. She can wear the robes of older siblings or families. Unfortunately, we don’t sell used robes because you’ll never know if the child who wore it before has jinxed it or something. It is also illegal to buy it straight from another family.”
Madam Malkin was conjuring large boxes to pack the robes in when Kim approached her to ask, “Will she need anything else? Like pajamas? Clothes for when she’s not in class…” Kim lowered her voice. “Underwear?” Madam Malkin looked back at Kim, asking such ridiculous questions, but figured they were muggles.
“At Hogwarts, unless the students are out and about, they usually just wear Muggle clothes. Even the pure-bred wizard children prefer Muggle clothing. I don’t know why; it all seems so tight and restrictive. I know when they go to the village, Hogsmeade, they are all in Muggle clothing. The older wizard and witches don’t like it, but they can’t do anything about it, really. So, she can buy whatever underwear she wants from whomever she wishes.” Kim gave a nod, saying, “Thank you.”
Madam Malkin handed the stack of packages to Duchess’s father. They all bid farewell and left the shop, finally heading for home.
“Let’s get you an animal, too!” They exited the shop and turned left down the road. “Personally, I’m a cat person. But, you can also have an owl, a toad, or a rat at Hogwarts. Owls can send messages and deliver mail for you, so they are useful. Rats are also very smart if you would like a smaller animal. They can send messages, but only to places they can actually run to and from. They’re also prey for a lot of animals, so I’d be careful owning a rat. I’m partial to cats myself. To be honest, they don’t really do anything useful except catch rats, but I do love their company.”
Duchess hadn’t thought about having a pet. Her parents never let her have a pet at home. They always said they would be the ones who ended up feeding it and cleaning up after it. “I can have my own pet? It’s just for me? Like mine?”
“If you want. I, personally, think it’s a good idea. If you have an owl, we have an owlery for them to stay in if you don’t want it in your room. They can also get their food there. They really are hunters, so if you get an owl, I would let him out at night to explore and hunt nightly.
“A toad is useful depending on which kind you get. Some have glads that secrete potion ingredients, so you won’t have to buy them at the shop continually. The one thing we don’t allow is for you to sell the ingredients. You may share them, give them away, but you can’t sell them.”
Without thinking of the costs, she immediately piped up,
“Can I get all of them?” While Duchess has been quiet and polite this whole time, she really isn’t so shy around Hermione anymore. She grew up wanting very little and her parents had the financial resources to help her live a well-rounded life. Hermione looked down at Duchess surprised at the request.
“You can have two. Please note that you have limited space. You have a trunk by the bed in your dorm, and one wardrobe. Those aren’t exactly places to keep animals.” Duchess hadn’t thought about her dorm or sleeping arrangements. Would it be a tiny closet like the college dorm she once visited when her cousin started college? She was a little disappointed but still happily replied,
“Okay! I want an owl and a cat! The owl can send letters for me, the cat can keep me company and catch rats, too! Maybe I should get two cats so they’re not lonely when I’m in class…” Duchess started ranting as she became more excited,
In the end, Hermione would purchase the owl as a gift for Duchess, and her parents purchased her a cat.
When Duchess stepped out of the shop, Hermione and her parents were laughing together, but they stopped and smiled at her as she approached them with the box under her arm.
“You look so happy!” Hermione said to Duchess as Duchess bounced towards her parents. “Why don’t you put the wand in your satchel so you don’t drop it?” Duchess looked up at Hermione,
“It won’t fit, will it?” She asked Hermione.
“Of course it will!” Hermione replied. “I charmed it myself! Go ahead, just open it up and toss the box right in.” Duchess complied. She pulled open the drawstrings, and even though the opening was way too small for that wand box, it seemed to just vacuum the box right into the satchel without even being prompted. Duchess gave Hermione a surprised look. “Now,” Hermione continued, “if you want it, just stick your arm right in there and take it out. The satchel will always know what you want when you want it, and you’ll always get exactly what you need.” Duchess was in awe,
“Thank you!” Duchess said to Hermione again.
“Just don’t tell anyone at school it was a gift from me. I can’t spend all my days charming all these satchels for them. If they want one, they can learn how to do it themselves.” Duchess held up her wrist and watched the satchel dangle back and forth in awe. “Let’s move on, shall we?” Hermione said. And together they continued down the cobblestone road.
“We’re going to the apothecary shop next. When you are at Hogwarts, you will take a variety of classes. One of them is potions,” Hermione began.
“Are all these classes going to be on top of my regular classes? Like English, math, history, and science?” Duchess interrupted.
“Actually, you won’t be taking what you would call Muggle classes. It’s kind of intertwined. Composition will be integrated with any and all classes where you have essays to write. Math and science are integrated into potions. So even though you don’t think mixing potions is ‘magical’, it is still a very important class in more ways than one,” Hermione explained. They continued down the street until they approached a scary-looking shop.
“I know it looks intimidating. The owner is just a bit odd, but he has the best of everything you need. Let’s go.”
There was no one inside the potions shop. Hermione went to the front to ring the bell. As she waited, Duchess roamed around the shop. It was a dark shop with shelves lining the walls and rows running down the middle. It looked like a library, but instead of books, there were jars with labels in English and Latin. There was almost everything from creepy animal parts to plant extracts.
The potions shop thrummed with quiet life: from the back room came a faint hissing and bubbling, as though a dozen cauldrons whispered secrets to each other. The air shifted with every step, steeped in an aroma that was at once acrid, spicy, and sweet— never quite the same twice. Shelves towered to the ceiling, stacked with strange jars and dried herbs, while rolling ladders creaked along the walls of their own accord. Near the counter, a lazy, orange-eyed cat dozed atop a bundle of dried nettles, barely twitching an ear. An enchanted ledger hovered beside the till, scratching out your growing total with a quill that moved as if guided by invisible fingers.
One shelf had glowing glass jars with name tags tied around it. There were powdered root of asphodel, moonstone dust, wolfsbane extract, (labeled handle with care), unicorn hair, crushed bezoar, sliced mandrake root (kept under a soundproof dome… she wondered why) and pickled shrivelfig. All of these words sounded foreign to her, and the one word that didn’t sound foreign… “unicorn…” It wouldn’t actually be a unicorn, right?
The next row over had a sign that said, “Preserved Creature Parts Floating in Greenish Fluid.” Here, she saw jars of basilisk scale, grindylow tentacle, dragon heartstring, eye of newt, fairy wings, and boggart bile.
“Duchess!” Hermione called to her. Duchess ran back up the aisles to the front of the store, careful not to run into anything.
When she arrived at the front of the store, Hermione had a large cardboard box all wrapped up for her. “Open up!” Hermione said brightly. Duchess opened up the satchel and once again, Hermione dropped the package into the satchel with everything else.
“Thank you!” Duchess said to Hermione once again. She was so grateful.
Hermione Granger was shorter than Duchess expected, but somehow even more formidable in person. Her brown curls fell to her shoulders, and her robes were a deep purple, embroidered subtly with the seal of the Ministry of Magic. She looked—Duchess thought—like a professor who might simultaneously change your life and catch you cheating.
“You must be Duchess,” Hermione said warmly, extending her hand. “Welcome to Diagon Alley. I’m the Minister of Magic.”
“I know,” Duchess blurted out. “I mean—thank you. I read your bio in the packet.”
Hermione laughed. “Ah, the guide.”
“Also! Your chocolate frog card!”
“Could use a little updating, but I’m glad it was helpful. Ron Weasley added those to your welcome packet. He loves those cards.” Duchess didn’t know who that was, but she didn’t ask.
“My dad loves the chocolate. He ate them all!” Ben blushed, but Hermione put her hand gently on Duchess’s shoulder, guiding her down the street.
“Mind if I show you around?”
“Please,” Duchess replied eagerly. They walked down the small street together. Hermione continued,
“A new invention I’ve created. I was hoping you could help me. It’s the idea of a credit card from the muggle world. It was difficult to convince the goblins to try it but they’re willing after I explained to them they can keep all the gold in the bank. Every shop is required to have a credit wand terminal. Some were unwilling, but there’s a decree they must have them anyway.”
They passed a stand of self-stirring cauldrons, a shop with quills that danced behind glass, and a gaggle of young witches crowding the window of Madam Malkin’s.
“Instead of a card, though, you use your wand. Now, you don’t have a wand yet, so we’ll have to use gold for now. I just can’t stand all those heavy coins in my robe, and I can’t carry that satchel around my wrist all the time when I’m trying to work. I’ve even added a rewards program! They can earn 1 galleon for every 100 galleons they spend! Some think it’s a scam. But it’s not. Well, just like a credit card, you have to pay it back every month or they’ll have to pay interest. But I’ve also added automatic monthly repayment straight from their Gringott’s vault.” Duchess was aware of how credit cards work, but Hermione seemed to enjoy explaining it, so she stayed quiet.
Hermione steered her gently toward the far end of the Alley, toward a narrow shop front marked Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
The window was dusty. Inside, it was dim and cramped, and the air smelled of cedar and something electric, like the air before a storm. Stacks of long, thin boxes teetered toward the ceiling.
A soft bell rang as they entered.
“Ah,” a voice said quietly from behind the shelves, “A new witch.”
Duchess felt something shiver down her spine—not fear, exactly, but something close.
Hermione gave Duchess an encouraging nod. As Duchess stepped forward, Hermione gently guided her parents out the door and followed close behind.
A voice called from behind the tall shelves,
“I know, you were expecting my father. He’s long retired. You know, he sold Harry Potter his wand. The wand that defeated the greatest dark wizard who ever lived, Voldemort. People used to never say his name until Harry Potter defeated him. Now we know, he was just like any other wizard. You live, you die… anyway,” the man continued, “I’ve heard about you,” Ollivander started as he stepped up the ladder. He pulled out a long box.
Ollivander’s son was a striking man in his thirties, with the quiet intensity of someone who’d spent his life listening more than speaking. His hair, a rich brown, was combed neatly over one side in a style that felt both deliberate and effortless, as though he’d walked off the page of a Muggle men’s fashion catalogue without realizing it.
His eyes, a pale, metallic silver, held a kind of ancient wisdom—eerily reflective, like polished steel catching candlelight. They flicked over wands and customers with the same cool discernment, as though measuring the weight of their souls.
He didn’t dress like a wizard. Instead of robes, he wore a fitted blue polo that hugged the muscular frame of his chest and arms, its collar crisp against his tanned skin. His shorts, tan and well-tailored, cut just above the knee, revealing strong, toned legs. On his feet were clean boating shoes—practical, quiet, and stylish in a way that didn’t try too hard.
Everything about him suggested strength kept in check, power held in reserve. He could have passed for a Muggle athlete, but the air around him shimmered faintly with magic. The kind that makes a room quieter when he walks in.
“Let’s try this one…” As Ollivander slowly stepped back down the ladder, she saw that Mr. Ollivander was a young man. He looked nothing like the man in the packet Professor Granger left with Duchess.
“What did you think when you received your letter to attend Hogwarts?” Duchess suddenly looked sad,
“I thought my brother was playing a trick on me. Mike’s always popping out at me and playing pranks. He’s a menace like that. I don’t think Bill had anything to do with it, but he just ignored it and never really defended me.” Ollivander laughed,
“Well, you’ll be playing tricks on him long enough.” Duchess suddenly stood up straight and grinned. It was the first time she didn’t look scared or nervous since they arrived at Diagon Alley. He handed Duchess a light wand.
Immediately, Duchess felt a wind blow across the room. The cool air left a chill in her spine and she suddenly felt she was flying. “I knew it!” Ollivander said. “I’m too good!” he exclaimed commenting himself. “Your hair and your eyes… This is a willow wand with a Veela hair. I know my father used to say it’s so tempermental, so he didn’t make any wands with with it, but I had to make just one. I could tell, this wand will be loyal to you.”
Ollivander wrapped up the wand in a neat box and handed it to her. “Ten galleons,” Ollivander let her know. Duchess took out her wand and looked up at him not knowing quite what to do. “Oh, right,” Ollivander chuckled. “You’re the first one who’s trying this money wand thing, you know? Let’s see if it works.” Ollivander took out a golden music box that fit in the palm of his hand. Only it wasn’t a music box . It didn’t even open. Duchess tapped the box and his cash register suddenly gave a ring. Ollivander went over the cash register and opened it. “Oh… it works. Fascinating. There’s actually a function to have it go directly into my vault in Gringott’s, but I don’t want to do that quite yet. I’d like to keep the galleons close so I can make sure it works.”
Duchess carefully put the wand in her expanding satchel.
“Thank you,” she whispered to him and left the shop.
A goblin named Grimblethorn came up behind Duchess and Kim, “Right this way, Ma’ams.” They followed the goblin down the great bank, with their shoes clacking on the marble floors. Ben stayed back, still in awe, looking up at the ceiling. Duchess and her mom followed the goblin to the back of the bank.
“Feels like everyone’s watching us,” Kim said, looking around.
“We are,” Grimblethorn replied.
The heavy gold doors magically opened up to them, and a golden carriage zoomed forward and made a sudden stop in front of Duchess and her mother.
Duchess eagerly climbed in, and as her mom carefully stepped in, not trusting the tracks as she looked into the canyon underneath.
Some time between Kim giving the American dollars over to the goblins and the quick arrival of Duchess to vault 8487, the American currency had been exchanged into wizarding money. “Wizarding world is smaller than Muggle world,” Grimblethorn growled, “we use the same currency around the world. Here’s your vault. All in galleons.”
Duchess carefully stepped into her vault and looked around at her new wizarding money, stacked high. “Just take a few galleons, knuts… don’t need too much. After you get your wand, it will automatically connect with your vault.”
Grimblethorn took a step back as Duchess grabbed a handful of gold.
“Is this enough?” She turned to ask her mother.
“How should I know?” Grimnlethorn grunted. Duchess grabbed another handful.
“I told you already. You don’t need a lot since they’re trying to implement that contraption at all the shops.” Duchess turned around and stepped out of the vault and back into the cart.
