"No idea. You?" she turned back the question, not wanting to admit her ignorance to this girl.
"Well," the girl actually seemed to think for a moment, before shrugging. "I'm not really sure, but I would say Slytherin or Ravenclaw, since my parents were in those Houses. Nobody is really sure where they'll be sorted until after the sorting the first day of school, but everyone can make accurate guesses where you won't be. I just hope I'm not in Hufflepuff. Or worse in Gryffindor."
"And what's wrong with being sorted into Hufflepuff or Gryffindor?" asked Alexandra, honestly curious. She also filed away the knowledge that both Ravenclaw and Slytherin were places which would be less than pleasant if the blond girl was put in them.
"Don't you know?" The girl asked in an amused tone, before hurrying on with the answer before Alexandra could say anything to the question that was obviously rhetorical. "Hufflepuff are failures academically and the House of cowards and leftovers. Still, better them than Gryffindor. If you're stupid and you love charging into lost causes headlong, then this House is for you."
The girl was leaning at that moment towards her, which explained how she had missed the look of anger on the face of the young woman pinning up her robes. However, while the insufferable blond girl missed it, Alexandra was in the perfect position to see the expression, and it was not a pleasant one. She didn't doubt the employee wanted to strangle the blonde haired girl badly right now.
Before Alexandra or the other girl could say anything more, the other woman said to the blond girl "That's you done, my dear," and the blonde hopped down from the footstool.
"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the haughty girl with a condescending tone, managing to imply in this single sentence she didn't think Alexandra had her place at this school.
When she was far away, Alexandra asked to the young woman: "You were in Hufflepuff, weren't you?"
The woman's head turned in surprise as she looked at her. She gave Alexandra a cold smile. "Yes," she answered Alexandra's question. "I was one of those failures, as she called them, and for your information, you'll never have a more loyal friend than a Hufflepuff."
"That's you done, dear," Madam Malkin said, interrupting any further attempt at conversation, which was probably for the better, as she was sure it wouldn't have been a polite one. Alexandra nodded and hopped of the stool. Paying for her uniforms and other items (hats, cap and gloves) cost her twenty galleons, and after having wished a pleasant day to Madam Malkin, she packed her trunk and went out the clothes shop.
The next half-hour was dedicated to buying parchment, quills and other writing materials (though Alexandra promised herself to bring some 'normal' pens to Hogwarts).
Now she had just her wand left to buy, and Mr Fortescue had told her the name of the shop she had to look for: Ollivanders Wand Shop, who was according to him the best wand maker of Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley and the rest of London combined. She found it in ten minutes.
This last shop was narrow, shabby, and not engaging in any sense. Old gold letters over the door read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. Worst advertisement ever in her opinion: the building looked two steps away from toppling itself into a complete ruin.
A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as she stepped inside. It was a very tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which she certainly didn't want to sit on to wait. For a wand shop, she felt slightly disappointed. After all was not the wand the most important of her school supplies she had to get? Alexandra felt strange, as though she had entered a mysterious place. One where the reality of the world didn't completely apply. She had found in the last hours she had a lot questions concerning magical wands, and right now she saw them in thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason she felt ill-at ease, like she knew she was being watched by someone unknown in this strange shop. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with a magic which had no comparison to hers.
"Good afternoon." said a soft voice. Alexandra almost jumped in place, but managed with difficulty to restrain herself. Instead, she turned her head in all directions, trying to see who had just spoken. Coming out of nowhere, an old man was standing before her. His wide, pale eyes shone like silvery moons through the gloom of the shop.
"Hello," said Alexandra awkwardly.
"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Alexandra Potter." It wasn't a question. While her disguise didn't appear to have collapsed, the man had pierced her new look without effort. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
Mr Ollivander moved closer to Alexandra in a slow, careful manner. Alexandra wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes and manners were a bit on the creepy side.
"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard or the witch, of course."