//------------------------------// // Chapter 3 // Story: The Gate // by computerneek //------------------------------// “Good Lord,” Dumbledore mutters. The other professors raise their eyebrows at him. He chuckles.  “We are going to have an interesting year.”  Then he looks up. “Apparently, it’s possible to agree to come to Hogwarts with a riddle.” Snape starts unfolding his own.  “Ravenclaw, I’ll wager.” Then he sighs, and turns the freshly-unfolded letter to show the others.  “This one’s done it with a single word.” “Thank you.”  The two girls bow their way out of the office, following the goblin runner back to where Professor McGonagall is waiting. “So?” she asks.  “How did it go?” “The rate is set and the forms are signed,” Lyra states. “And I have no idea how she got such a nice rate,” Bonbon answers. Lyra chuckles.  “Oh please. It isn’t that bad.” Professor McGonagall raises an eyebrow.  “Oh?” “Yep,” Bonbon states.  “And a mug of cider costs two bits back home.” She blinks, waiting for the ball to drop.  “Okay?” “Like I said, crazy favorable rate.  But the forms are signed, and the rate is set.” “Though it is a little disappointing that I couldn’t get a single additional knut onto the rate,” Lyra states.  “All thanks to the odd numbers of smaller denominations to make up larger in the wizard currency, it’s not possible to exchange only one bit at a time.” Bonbon shrugs.  “Oh well.” Then she looks at Professor McGonagall.  “So, how much gold do we need, each?” She blinks.  “Um… Fifteen galleons should be more than enough.  Each.” “Alright,” Lyra answers, before turning to trot towards the counter again, Bonbon in tow- and the professor following. “What is it?” the goblin behind the counter asks sharply. “Good afternoon,” Lyra begins.  “I’d like to exchange some foreign currency- Equestrian, specifically.  Just signed the exchange rate.” The goblin raises an eyebrow.  “Alright, one minute.” A minute later, the goblin returns.  “Right then. The exchange rate is one galleon for two bits.  How much to you have?” Professor McGonagall blinks.  Hadn’t Bonbon said a mug of cider was two bits?  Something she’d often pay less than a sickle for, if she wanted it? “Four hundred bits,” Lyra answers, placing a fairly tall stack of gold coins on the counter- before helping Bonbon place a similar stack next to it.  “That’s two hundred each.” “Oh boy,” Professor McGonagall mutters, while the goblin starts counting. “Just what have we gotten ourselves into?” Professor Flitwick asks the air. All the weary teachers look at him. He sighs, laying the letter down flat.  “Princess Luna will be attending.” “...  Oh.” Snape sighs, and unfolds his next letter.  Then he draws his wand to levitate the cake off of the letter, complete with platter. All of the professors watch it go. “Well that’s…  interesting,” Dumbledore mutters.  “Who is it?” “An Equestrian,” Snape states, before looking down, blinking, and reading the letter aloud. “Dear Professor Snape, “I plan on attending myself, though unfortunately, the Cakes will not be coming, so I have enclosed a congratulations-on-inviting-Equestrians-and-sorry-the-cakes-couldn’t-come cake for you and the rest of the staff to enjoy; a party feels like it’d be inappropriate right now.  I’m looking forwards to Potions! “Sincerely, “Pinkie Pie.” “Is this… the only place for wands or something?” “Yes?” Professor McGonagall answers Lyra’s question, as the trio enters Olivander’s. “Ahh,” Lyra mutters, looking around.  “I don’t know how many Equestrian students you’re going to have, but I hope this guy has a lot of wands.” “I do,” Olivander states from behind them, catching only the professor by surprise.  The other two fake it convincingly, though. “I have thousands of wands on these shelves.” “Yeah,” Lyra nods.  “And after only a single day, we’ve already confirmed- what was the number?- over seven hundred new Equestrian first years?” The wandmaker stops.  “Seven hundred?” “Yeah.  That unusual?” “Yes, yes,” he states.  “Quite unusual. I normally only get about forty Hogwarts first-years each year.” The two girls share a look. “We’re gonna break the system,” Bonbon states simply. “Definitely,” Lyra agrees.  “I mean, what’s the predicted number?” “Eight thousand two hundred seventy-four, last I checked.” The floorboards vibrate as the Transfiguration professor hits them, drawing the girls’ attention. “Uh, I don’t think she was ready for that,” Lyra states.  She looks back up at Olivander. “That estimate has an error of around forty percent…  do you think you have enough wands?” “I…” he begins.  “I should. How… How do you suppose we’ll find the right wands for that many so quickly?” “Hmm,” Lyra mutters, tapping her chin.  “I don’t know- really depends on what that process entails.  Shall we be about it?” Blink.  “Alright.  Which of you wishes to go first?” “Her first,” Bonbon states. Lyra raises an eyebrow at her friend.  “Oh?” “Yeah- that way, you can see how it works and maybe come up with something to try and speed it up.  If it works…” “True,” Lyra nods, and steps forwards.  “Alright, me first.” Olivander blinks.  “Uh, okay.” Bonbon chuckles.  “She’s got the experience to recognize what might be going on behind the scenes, in the magic fields or something.” “Right.  It is true, it is the Wand that chooses the Wizard, after all.  Then, which is your wand arm?” “Does it matter?” “Ah, yes.  Some wands favor wizards with very specific dominant arms.” “So, my dominant arm is my wand arm?” “Yes.” “Ahh.  That’d be my right arm.” “Can you hold it out for me, please?  Yes, just like that.” Bonbon watches Lyra’s amused expression as the measuring tape takes over and starts measuring on its own.  “How does a person’s measurements effect what wand we get?” Bonbon asks. Lyra answers.  “It’s not about the measurements, actually,” she states.  “As a matter of fact, that tape isn’t even measuring my body.  It’s measuring different facets of my magic, in what I assume is an indirect way to get a rough estimation of the magical core.  Armed with that information, the wandmaker can pick wands whose magic signatures- no doubt memorized rather than scanned on the fly- are similar or complementary, creating a higher chance that the correct wand would be found quickly.”  She sighs. “I could probably speed that up a bit, since I know how to view the core directly, but that still won’t take the guesswork out of it.” “That would be a handy skill to have,” the wandmaker agrees, pulling down box after box. Eventually, he calls off the measuring tape, and brings her the first box.  “Thirteen and a half inches, Ironbelly heartstring, maple, nice and supple.  Go ahead, give it a wave.” Lyra raises her eyebrows as she accepts the wand, lifting it in her hand.  “Thirteen points of conflict on the signature, but…” She gives it a wave; nothing happens.  “Thought so.” The wandmaker, having tilted his head at her mention of the points of conflict, takes the wand back, and goes to the next one. Six wands later, after the wandmaker skipped a couple dozen, he finally offers her yet another.  “Alright, try this one.” He draws in a breath to continue. She speaks first, though, an eyebrow raised.  “That’s more like it,” she smiles, accepting the wand in her hand- and gives it a quick flick. The wandmaker blinks as sparks fly out from it- but he also notices the girl’s eyes aren’t focused on where she’s pointing it, but on the wand itself.  He tilts his head for a moment. “Excellent,” he states. “We’ve found your match.” “Interesting,” Lyra finally states.  “Very… interesting.” She looks up. “You’re right, the wand does choose the wizard.  Or witch, as the case may be.  Though, it seems to make that choice when it is created, whether or not the witch or wizard in question is even born yet.” “Oh?” “Yeah.  This wand had a one-sided thaumic bond pointed at me, and when I touched it, it completed that symbiotic bond.”  She grins. “And fortunately, detecting such bonds pointed at someone is much easier- and safer- than scanning the thaumic core.” “Oh?”  He sounds excited now. Dumbledore looks up.  “Hold on,” he mutters. “What is it?” Snape asks.  Then blinks. “Minerva is unconscious,” Dumbledore answers, for the benefit of those not tied to each other through the castle wards. “Feels like shock,” Flitwick observes. Dumbledore closes his eyes, and drives his power through the wards.  “The equestrians must be… very unusual.” Professor McGonagall wakes up suddenly, feeling the support flowing in from Hogwarts.  She sends them her thanks and rises back to her feet, in time to see Lyra pay the wandmaker for her wand. Then the wandmaker takes one good look at Bonbon, and trots off amongst the shelves. Moments later, Olivander returns, holding one wand, offering it to Bonbon.  “Here, try this one.” The girl takes it, raises an eyebrow, and gives it a swish. A giant wrapped candy appears in midair, before crashing to the ground to make the whole shop shake. “Excellent!” the wandmaker begins.  “Excellent! That was perfect, Lyra!” Lyra, meanwhile, looks at the candy, then at her friend, and back to the candy, before nodding.  “An interesting manifestation,” she finally states. Bonbon chuckles while the wandmaker vanishes the candy.  “So, how much will it cost?” Later, the two girls teleport themselves home from Platform Nine and Three Quarters, equipped with all of their school materials packed into their new trunks- and an owl each.  They’d driven both her and the Eyelops proprietor crazy when they started chatting with the owls, so it’d been a relief when they'd announced they were ready for their quick trip to the station.