As for the last four beauty potions, Sigrid decided to leave them in the diary for now. Maybe one day, she thought, when I've found a boyfriend, gotten married, and had children… then I'll consider brewing them.
For the moment, she happily set herself a much smaller, but no less ambitious, goal for her seven years at Hogwarts:
To become more beautiful every single day—until she was the most dazzling witch in the entire school, admired by every wizard in Hogwarts!
Of course, Sigrid—who had yet to even learn the basics of potion-making—didn't stop to consider that she might not be able to find all the necessary ingredients… let alone whether she actually had any talent for brewing.
I Bought Two Cauldrons in Diagon Alley
On June 20, 1991, Sigrid and her father traveled by Floo powder to the bustling heart of the British wizarding world: Diagon Alley. The cobblestoned street stretched before them, alive with color and noise.
Fresh from Ollivander's Wand Shop, Sigrid clutched her very first wand—a maple wand with a dragon heartstring core, 9.5 inches long. Eight galleons and half an hour later, she finally held it in her hand. The moment she gripped the wood, she felt it resonate with her, filling her with a new certainty: Now, I am truly a witch.
Her father cheerfully pointed out all the strange shops and tempting restaurants as they pushed through the crowd, but Sigrid had little interest. She had never imagined there were so many wizards hidden away in London. Some wore gaudy robes, some whispered urgently in corners, others laughed boisterously in groups. The jumble of voices, colors, and smells pressed in on her until she felt almost suffocated.
Instinctively, she drew closer to her father and pulled her hood over her head, hiding herself beneath the folds of her cloak.
A lady of true elegance doesn't belong in such chaos, she thought firmly. Grandmother was right. A proper young witch should be seen at balls, sipping tea at Madam Puddifoot's, or entertaining friends in her boudoir—not jostling through noisy crowds filled with pretenders. I'll only ever return here for school shopping. Nothing more.
Fortunately, salvation came in the form of Flourish and Blotts. The hushed quiet of the bookshop embraced her, soothing her nerves. She lowered her hood, straightened her posture, and rediscovered her composure as Lady Stewart.
The store had even arranged the Hogwarts First-Year Textbooks in a neat display, making shopping easy. Father and daughter purchased the required set without fuss, and Sigrid treated herself to a copy of A History of Hogwarts, which caught her fancy.
In high spirits, she and her father crossed next door to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.
"Good day, Mr. Stewart!" came a polite greeting.
"Good morning, Mr. Nott," her father replied warmly.
Sigrid followed close behind and dipped her head politely. "Hello, Mr. Nott."
Mr. Nott's sharp cheekbones and low voice lent him a slightly intimidating air, though his manners were perfectly civil. His gaze shifted toward the back of the shop. "Miss Stewart, you've grown into such a lovely young lady. Theodore is here as well—you remember him? You danced together at last year's party."
Sigrid followed his glance and saw Theodore Nott. With a graceful nod, she excused herself, leaving the two fathers to their conversation.
She and Theodore had met several times before—at a soirée, and once more at Madam Zabini's wedding, where they had even shared a dance. But their acquaintance remained a formal one, never quite close enough for first-name familiarity.
From what Sigrid remembered, Theodore was not particularly sociable. His father often encouraged him to mingle, but his efforts rarely bore fruit. Theodore seemed to prefer solitude, and even when surrounded by peers, he seldom initiated conversation.
Not that Sigrid could claim much more success herself.
Her quiet upbringing was partly to blame.
When she was three, her father had left the Ministry of Magic to manage the Stewart family business, splitting his time between England, Greece, and the continent. Her mother, meanwhile, spent years training to become a therapist in St. Mungo's Charmed Injury Department.
With her parents often absent, Sigrid and her brother Allen grew up in seclusion, cared for mostly by the family's loyal elf, Dolly. The shadow of the Dark Lord still hung over Britain then, keeping families indoors. Allen had been her only playmate, and when he left for Hogwarts at age eleven, Sigrid was left more alone than ever.
Her first magical outburst came soon after. At six years old, she fell into a coma that frightened her family to the core. She could still recall her mother's tear-streaked face when she awoke in St. Mungo's: "I almost lost you, my baby!"
From that day, her mother gave up her dream job to care for the family full-time. By the time Sigrid turned eight, the wizarding world was slowly opening up again. Even so, her family remained on the sidelines, avoiding political entanglements and mingling only when business required it.
At nine, she had met a few children her own age at a Malfoy gathering. But the encounters were rare, limited to polite exchanges and Christmas gifts.
And so, Sigrid had grown into a girl both observant and a little lonely—something she shared, perhaps, with Theodore Nott.
Which brings us back to Madam Malkin's.
She eyed the ready-made robes hanging around the shop with open skepticism. The styles were outdated, the colors dull. Nothing here, she thought, would do her justice. She was already resolved to pack a few of her own gowns for Hogwarts.
At last, she approached Theodore, who was standing stiffly as a magical measuring tape zipped around him, noting every detail of his frame.