Chapter 2 : being 6 isn’t easy

Being a fourteen year old in the body of a six year old has it's perks: I'm cute and I know how to use it to my advantage; I can lay around all day and not be scolded; I can appreciate the joy of not having any repsonsibility and relish a simple life. As with everything though, there are draw backs: childrens books and toys get really old, really fast; my voice is annoyingly childish and gets on my nerves; my body's too small which also annoys me; and, probably my biggest complaint, I'm not allowed my own wand so, therefore, cannot perform most spells.

You'll notice that I said most spells and not all spells. I can do a little bit of wandless magic, stuff like Accio'ing things over to me, levitating some objects and once I even manged to cast a teeny, tiny patronus though it was so ineffective and took so much effort it's not really worth it. I reckon I can do that kind of thing because I'm an "old soul". Plus, I was pretty powerful in my previous life if I do say so myself. Still, I really would prefer it if I had a wand. I'd really like to have my old wand back but I know that's not going to happen, not yet anyway. However, I do know a way to get a hands on a wand very soon and that's exactly what I plan on doing. Today in fact.

Right, go through the plan again: Phil and Con, (no way am I going to call them mum and dad) will leave for work just before lunch; Nanny Alice will come up to the play room at twelve o'clock exactly with our lunch; when she's not looking, I'll slip the sleeping draught I nicked from Contessa's medicine cabinet; once she's out for the count I'll sneak into Phil's study and floo to Knockturn Alley; get the wand; go into Diagon Alley and then stay there until three o'clock when I'll have to get back in time for my ice-skating lesson at four.

Yes, I know what you're thinking: why, oh why, am I taking ice-skating lessons? Blame Nanny Alice. She's muggle-born you see, (not that Phil and Con know she is; they wouldn't have hired her if they did) and a huge fan of ice-skating. She started working for us when I was five and a half and Phil and Con told her that she needed to arrange dancing lessons for me. Deciding to take liberties with that vague order, she arranged ice-dancing lessons for me rather than the ballroom dancing I'm sure those two meant. I suppose if I had to have chosen, I'd have chosen the ice-dancing over ballroom. Idealy, I wouldn't do either but the ice-skating is the lesser of two evils.

Anyways, back to the wand subject. Did you know there's a black-market in wands? Yep, it's true. I found a report on it in Phil's study. They're either illegaly made wands which haven't been registered with the Ministry, (very handy for Unforgivables I should think) or they're old wands whose previous owners have either died or the wands have just been stolen from them. Either way, the spells cast can't be traced back to you so, in theory, you could do whatever the Hell you want with them. Personally, I'm not planning on doing anything bad, I just want a wand again.

In a perfect world, I'd get my old wand back and I could, I know where it is; it's with my old body in the crypt I was placed in. However, I'm miles away from said crypt and, being a six year old, I can't go that far on my own in one day. Also, rumour has it that there are hundreds of locking charms on the crypt so no one can get in without prior consent from someone in charge of that sort of thing. I'm pretty sure I'd be able to crack them and then get away with my old wand before anyone came and confronted me. However, to do that I need a wand. So, I can't get the wand I want until I get an illegal wand.

...God, I'm bored, (abrupt change of topic I know but bear with me). This is what I was talking about when I said that toys get really old, fast. Here I am, laying on a huge, bouncy bed in the middle of a huge bedroom filled with so many fantastical toys that it would send any real six year old boy into a fit of pure delight, and I'm bored out of my mind. All the books in Phil's study which are interesting have been read and re-read countless times and, well, let's just say that most of Contessa's books aren't suitable for a fourteen year old let alone a six year old.

"Charlemagne?" The voice of Nanny Alice comes through the door as a couple of gentle knocks sound. She's here already? What time is it? Well, obviously it's twelve, the woman works like she's been programmed to follow very specific, timed orders, bless her. I'm just surprised it's already twelve. I didn't even hear Phil and Con leave. Maybe they flooed today for some reason instead of Apparating.

"Hello Nanny Alice." I greet her in my horribly childish voice as she nudges the door open and steps into the room. I hate my voice so much, I can't wait until it breaks.

"Have you had a nice morning?"

And so lunch begins. We move from my bedroom in the adjoined playroom which is basically the equivilant of a parlour only it's for a six year old. We sit at a stupid sized table which is too big for me and too small for Alice and she sets everything up. Soon, we're sipping tea and eating sandwiches and talking about the usual things: family and Quidditch mostly. Well, we're kind of talking anyway. I'm not really paying much attention to her, I'm too busy trying to think of a way to slip the sleeping potion into her tea.

I suppose I could do the childish thing of, "oh, look over there!" but I really don't think I could do that with enough enthusiasm to make it believable that I'm truely playing. I could ask for dessert, she's only brought a few biscuits up, but she'd probably just send a house-elf off for it. She'd do the same if I spilt my tea as well. I think I'm going to have to go for the first option, at least that's got a chance of working.

Okay, right, look innocent but mischievious at the same time...Is that even possible? Oh well, soon find out. I've got the vial already in my hand, hidden under the table, out of sight of course. Now I've just got to say it, sounding and looking convincing. Just going to take a moment to prepare...Have to wait for a lull in the conversation...Not yet...Oh c'mon Alice, take a breath!...There, now, act fast!

"Look at that over there!" I gasp with a clearly supressed giggled, rising from my seat a little and pointing behind her with my empty hand.

Yes, she's looked away. Now it's a matter of rushing. Stopper out, lean over the table, potion in the cup. Oh, better grab one of her biscuits to make it look like I had a motive other than to drug her. I stuff the stolen biscuit in my mouth as I fall back into my seat heavily, slipping the empty vial back in the pocket of the black trousers that I'm wearing under my robe. Alice turns around again, looking amused. Her amusement only grows when she notices there's a biscuit missing and then looks back to me. I'm making an act of trying to look like I'm hiding my mouthful of biscuit while trying to chew at the same time. Not exactly the smartest way to pretend you haven't done anything but I am meant to be six after all.

"Did you take my biscuit?" She coos, still smiling brightly, and leans closer to me.

"No." I answer in that way that young kids do, drawing out the word and smiling cheekily.

"Where did my biscuit go then?"

"The pixie stole it." There, that sounded suitably childish.

"The pixie?" Alice echos doubtfully, raising an eyebrow.

"The Cornish pixie that was behind you. I told you to look but you weren't fast enough." God, I can't believe I'm spouting all this rubbish and I can't believe she's playing along with it when it's all so clearly a lie. That's Alice for ya though, she's one of the softer ones. Madame Bonvele, my Nanny when I was four, now she was the complete opposite. If I had ever tried something like this with her I would've been canned. I was canned enough with her as it was; she enjoyed hitting me far to much.

Woah, Alice is already on the floor! That potion works fast. When did she even sip her tea? Oh well, I'm not complaining, it just means I can get out of here faster.

I get out of my chair and move over to the door...Wait, I'm still hungry. I'll grab a few of the sandwiches...And maybe some of the biscuits as well...And I'll finish off my tea...Okay, now I'm really going. Have to stop off in Phil's study and "borrow" some money before I go downstairs. Um...Where is it again? Is it with Contessa's on the thrid floor or up here with the family bedrooms on the fourth floor? I'm pretty sure it's on the third floor...Yeah, that sounds right.

I quickly hurry out of the room and off down the hall in the direction I know the stairs are in. Honestly, six years in this manor and I still don't know my way around it completely. I know the places I have to go every day, like the dining room and such, and I know that immediate area around my rooms, but other than that I struggle. There's five floors to this place, not including the cellar. Merlin knows what's down there, I've never had the oppotunity to look and part of me is incredibly glad for that. I've heard Phil refer to it as the dungeons before and that can't be a good sign.

Right, I'm on the third floor...Now where? I guess I should just peer into each room at a time. Why this family needs such a big house for only three family members, two servants and five house-elves I have no idea. It boggles the mind, it really does. I guess it's one of those more money than sense things.

"Let's not spend our money on something sensible dear, let's just spend an insane amount on a huge house which we'll never use the whole of." I can just hear Phil saying that to Contessa in his stupid, snooty, My-Blood-Is-Purer-Than-Thous voice. Think of Lucius' Malfoy's voice and then add the tiniest tinge of a fake French accent to it and you've got Phil's voice.

Third room now. Not Phil's study. Run along the hall a little more. Fourth room. Not Phil's study. Merlin, if it carries on like this, Alice will've woken up by the time I've found this bloody room. Fifth room. No. Sixth room. No...Wait, yes! Ah ha! We have Phil's study. Okay, now, if I were a stupid, fake-French prat, where would I keep my money? Let's try his desk drawers. Give them a pull...Nope, locked; though I doubt magically.

"Alohomora." I whisper with a wave of my hand in front of the key-hole. A click sounds as the lock slides away. Bingo!

Hmm, let's see what's in here then. Bill, Ministry stuff, another bill, statement from Gringotts...Bloody Hell he's rich! Now I really don't feel guilty about taking his money. Hmm, a few more Ministry papers. Wonder if there's anything near the back? If I just move over to the side a little and really stretch my arm out, maybe press a little closer to the deak. Stupid short arm. Oh, wait, I feel something, several things actually. They're all hard and lumpy...Got one and...Yay, it's a coin purse. Quite a bit in it as well. I'll just open it up...Wow, that's a lot of gold. I doubt it'll be missed, I'll just take the whole lot. After all, I have no idea how much an illegal wand is going to cost but it can't be more than what I've got with me now.

Where's the shop again? I'll have to check. Where's that report? I hope he hasn't put it away somewhere, I'll never find it then. Not in this drawer, maybe it's amoung this stack of parchment on the desk. Merlin this man is so un-organised! He used to be a Slytherin as well. I guess tidiness isn't a House requirement, it's just a coincidence that the majority are all so up-tight about appearances and organisation. Phil's obviously an exception because this desk looks liks a bomb's hit it. Low and behold though, here's that report and there's the address. Yep, I'm pretty sure I know where that is.

All right, now I can get going. I'll use the fire-place in the servants quarters, at least I know for sure where that is and that there'll be floo powder there. I'll have avoid the kitchen maid and the house-elves though but that won't be too hard. There are some advantages to being so small, one of them being that I can hide under things. Very handy for spying and such.

Still no one about. All good. Now I've reached the kitchen that will probably change though. I'll just pause, take a second to listen in and see if there's anyone in there...All sounds quiet, I can't hear anything moving or anyone speaking. I'll just have to take a chance.

I open the door and peek inside discreetly. Just as I thought; there's no one around. Opening the door a little more I can slip inside now and then I guide the door shut so that it doesn't make a noise when it closes; don't want to attract any attention now. I hurry over to the fire-place, grabbing some floo powder from the pot at the side when I pass it. Hmm, should I floo to Diagon Alley first or just go straight to Knockturn? Probably should've decided this before, but oh well. Erm...Um...Oh, I'll just go straight to Knockturn Alley, it'll be faster.

"Knockturn Alley." I call clearly, throwing the powder down after I've spoken.

Intense green flames surround me, blocking my view of the kitchen. When they fade again seconds later, there's no more kitchen. It's been replaced with the typical kind of shop you'd expect to find in Knockturn Alley: dark; dusty; grey. I brush off my light, black robes as I step out of the fire-place and look around myself. This looks like the place I came out in Second Year. Knowing my luck, this isn't the place I need. No, that would be far to conveniant. Time to leave I think, I don't have time to browse and even if I did, I don't want to browse a shop in Knockturn Alley. I just wanna get in, get a wand and then go into Diagon Alley where I know that everyone I see isn't a Death Eater.

Yes, that's right, there are still active Death Eaters. It's insane isn't it? Voldemort is dead, I killed him, he's not around to give them orders yet they still pledge themselves to him. They still carry out attacks in his name and continue with their ridiculous, muggle-hating ways. They all seriously need to get over it and get their own lives, preferably ones that don't involve stupid prejudices which make no sense at all. Apparently though, someone's made a prediction. I don't know the details of it, I just read it a year or so ago in an issue of the Daily Profit, but someone's said something which everyone's taken to mean that myself and Voldemort will be reborn and will face each other again. Seeing as the prediction was right about me coming back, I'm afraid they're right about Voldemort coming back which is another reason why I want a wand; if I'm attacked, I need to be able to defend myself.

How will they recognise me I hear you ask. I've still got my scar. Well, actually, it's more of a birth mark now as I was born with it rather than I had it inflicted on me. I'm not sure if Phil or Contessa have actually noticed it; the moment I was born I was handed over to a nurse maid and my hair grew quickly and is as un-ruly as it's ever been so my fringe covers it up pretty effectively. Add that to the fact that days can go by without me seeing either of them and it really wouldn't be a surprise if they didn't know it was there. The various nannies I've had over the past few years have noticed however and have either commented to me that it's odd or they have made a playful connection with Harry Potter, they just haven't said the completely correct statement of, "you're the reincarnation of Harry Potter".

Ugh, this place is creepy. And it's freezing cold. It's the middle of June and it feels like the middle of January. I should've grabbed a cloak before I left. Oh well, too late now. Don't dwell on it, just find this shop and get out...Why are so many people staring at me? My fringe's covering my scar/birth mark so it's not like they can recgonise me by that. Maybe they're just wondering why a six year old boy is wandering around on their own in Knockturn Alley of all places. Still, makes me feel un-easy; I am in no position to defend myself effectively.

Ahh, here we are, this is the place. Looks suitably dodgy. Oh well, no point hanging around outside, might as well go in. Pushing the door open, the tinkle of a bell sounds and the floor boards underneath my feet groan with the weight of my tiny body. This is a really small shop, about the size of the Durlsey's living room I bet. A counter divides the shop in half and behind that counter sits a skinny, shifty looking man with a scraggely, light brown beard which has a few strands going grey. He's looked up from whatever it was he's reading, no doubt being alerted by the bell, and I can tell by his expression that he's not impressed with his latest customer.

"Word is you sell wands here." I open with, trying to make myself sound as mature as possible. I really don't want to take ages trying to convince this guy to sell me a wand. Of course, it's hard to feel mature when you're standing in front of a counter which is taller than you and you have to crane your neck back to look over.

"Yeah, real wands, not kiddy ones. Get lost." The old man sneers at me; obviously not a big fan of kids.

"How much?" I'm not going to get into an argument here, just get the wand and get out.

"More than a brat like you can afford." He jeers. I raise an eyebrow at that as I pull the bag of galleons out of the pocket in my robes. I take a dozen or so out and chuck them up carelessly onto the counter. The man's eyes light up at the sight of the money and he looks at me in disbelief, no doubt also noticing that there are still plenty more coins in the bag I hold in my hand. I knew the second he saw the money he'd be a willing provider. People like him are oh so predictable.

"I need a wand, preferably an un-registered one. I don't really want a dead man's wand." I tell him easily, giving him a pointed look and discreetly slipping the coin bag back into the pocket of my robes.

He looks me over a second time, probably trying to figure out who I am and why I'm so mature. I think he gives up though because he stands but still looks at me rather suspiciously. "I'll see what I can find for you young sir." He tells me, all suddenly very polite now that he knows I have money and I'm not here to waste his "valuable" time, before he goes over to the far left corner and steps through the wall.

He's not gone long and when he returns, carrying several long, thin cases, some made from wood while others are cardboard and are falling to bits. He sets them down on the counter and arranges them neatly, lifting off the lids as he does so. Taking the hint, I take the final step towards the counter and use the skirting around the base of the counter to give myself a bit of extra height. Have to hold on to the top of the counter to keep myself in place but at least I'm tall enough to be able to look over the wands. There aren't any labels or even bits of parchment which tell me what the core of each wand is so I'm just going to have to test them out. It doesn't really matter too much; it's only a temporary solution after all.

Hmm, this one looks all right, let's give it a flick...Nothing happened. Fine, I guess this one isn't all right. Might be broken, wouldn't surprise me in the least if it is. This one next to it looks a bit like my old wand, the wood looks the same anyway. Doesn't do too much though, think this is a no as well. That one is broken, there's a huge split down the length of it. I can't believe this guy is trying to sell such a damaged wand! It could do some really serious damage to someone, especially if they cast the Cruciatus curse with it. Though, having said that, if they did cast the Cruciatus curse then they probably deserve to have it thrown back in their face. Okay, third time's a charm. Let's give it a swish...Hmm, not bad, not bad at all. Yeah, it'll do I suppose. Like I said before, it is only a temporary substitute.

"How much is this one?" I inquire, showing him the wand but not letting it go, trying to keep my voice as emotionless as possible in an attempt to make myself sound more mature. I think it's working, though just barely.

"How much ya got?" The man sneers back. Should've seen that one coming. Oh well, it's not my money. I bring the bag out again and throw it up onto the counter, a few of the gold coins spilling out as the bag lands. The man's eyes light up at the sight of so much money and he scoops it all up hastily. "This is your lucky day sonny; this is exactly the right amount."

"Hmm, conveniant that." I grunt as I step back onto the ground carefully with the "new" wand. Without a word, I turn to go and I reach the door before the shop keeper calls out to me:

"If anyone asks you where you got that wand sonny..."

"I'll tell them it was given to me by a leprechaun. Don't worry, I'm not going to turn you in or anything." Well, probably not anyway...Not today at least.

He gazes at me steadily before grinning a bit, obviously amused about something. What it is though I have no idea. "Clever little thing aren't ya? How'd a brat your age manage to get so smart?"

"I'm older than I look." I mutter simply before leaving the shop before he can ask anymore questions. The last thing I want right now is to be drawn into a conversation with a crook who could very easily be a Death Eater as well.

The deed is done though! Finally, after six years of being able to do absolutely nothing, I finally have a wand! I can cast proper spells again, ooo, maybe I can even teach myself to Apparate! That'd be very handy I'm sure and the Ministry wouldn't be able to get me for doing it under-age because they won't be able to trace the wand to me. I'd deny I ever said this under oath, but sometimes illegal stuff can be very handy.

All right now, time to go up to Diagon Alley, away from the Voldemort freaks and Dark Arts and towards everything which is good and legal. I think I'll have a look at the brooms, see what the latest model is. Oh, and I'll have a look around for books on more advanced magic as well, maybe I'll ask someone what books Hogwarts students need in Fifth Year and try and teach myself. There's so much to do and so little time to do it! I'll definately come back again soon, when I've "borrowed" some more money from Phil. Today's just window shopping; next time will be actual shopping.

Um...Which way is Diagon Alley again? Damn, it's not even like I can ask anyone. Wouldn't trust the people around here as far as I could throw them. They'd probably try and convert me and when they failed that they'd just put me under Imperius. Well, I could either go left or right...Erm...Oh, I know: Eenie meenie miney mo, catch a tiger by the toe, if he hollars let him go, eenie meenie miney...

Wait a second, what's going on over there? Why is everyone suddenly coming this way? What could...Ow! Someone just barged right into me! Merlin, people down here are so bloody rude. I'm a child! Surely that in itself warrents a little common curtesy from other people let alone the fact that it's good manners to...

Now people are locking up their shops...This is getting weird. What is going on? Oh, wait, someone's coming around the corner...Three people actually...Three Aurors...And I'm standing outside a known illegal wand supplier holding an illegal wand. That's not going to look very good. Maybe they won't notice me though. If I just turn around and casually walk in the other direction, discreetly slipping the wand into my robes as I do so...

"Oi, kid, wait a minute!"

Oh bloody Hell.