Not my first fic, but my first HP one. A plot bunny with particularly sharp fangs bit me for this. It bit me really hard. (ouch) 'And now, the kitchen proudly presents: your dinner.' (Beauty and the Beast.)

Disclaimer: :::Bows::: These characters and places are the property of the honourable JKR. Sabra and this storyline, however, are mine.

Snow blanketed the small village, covering roofs and walkways. Behind a cottage, a man swung a hatchet, cutting firewood. A mother and daughter hung ornaments on a large tree, while a man lifted a boy up to set the star on top. A few people were shovelling sidewalks, but most could be seen through their windows, sitting in front of orange fires, drinking coco.

Sabra Levi pressed her nose against the glass window of the store, her breath fogging up the clear pane in front of her. Above her, a sign swung merrily, proclaiming: 'Thimble Christmas Shop. Holidays all year round.'

She shook her head at the small moving figures, enchanted to act as real ones would. 'Meshuggah' she thought rolling her eyes. 'People thinking its Christmas in July.'

Sabra turned around to face the street again as she tugged the rumpled cotton skirt straight. She waved to a short, plump woman who was beckoning furiously, and started across the street, clutching her bundle against her chest.

She reached down to pick up her skirt and caught her foot on the curb. Lurching forward, she fell to the ground, but was cushioned by something. Looking down she saw two pairs of dazed eyes peering up at her.

Scrambling off of them, she reached down and took hold of their hands. A tall redheaded boy and a skinny girl came carefully up. "Slichah! Slichah! I'm so sorry; I wasn't looking where I was going."

Standing on the sidewalk besides them was a tall black haired boy; one of the only people on the street, other then her, not wearing robes. They were, she noticed, draped over one shoulder. He was laughing wildly, reaching down to brush off the back of the other boy's robes.

"I suppose you think it's funny," the girl said fiercely. "You're not the one who just got pinned under Ron."

"I am very sorry," Sabra repeated. She knelt down again, reaching for the books which had fallen out of her arms when she fell. A white hand came into view, crossing with her own olive-gold one, picking up the last view books. It was the black haired boy, who handed them to her, then stood up and held a hand out to her.

She took it; straightening out of the crouch, she unsteadily stood up. "I'm so sorry," she said again, pushing her wire-rimmed glasses back up her nose.

"I know, I know, you said that already." He shook his head. "They're not permanently damaged," he turned around. "Right guys?"

"Speak for yourself," The redhead grumbled. "Mum just got me these robes and they're already torn." He displayed a gash down the left sleeve where the cloth had caught on something.

Sabra hesitantly came over. "May I?"

He nodded, slightly confused.

"Vestitus Reparo!" The cloth pulled together, black threads appearing to sew it neatly up. In a moment, all that was left was a long but neat seam where the rip was.

Ron held the sleeve up to his face, peering closely at where the rip was. "Not bad," he said. "Hey, 'Mione. You oughta remember that one."

"I know it," she said, rolling her eyes. "And I think it's you who needs to remember it."

The other boy shook his head. "Oh, cut it out you two."

Sabra looked behind the bickering pair to the woman who stood behind them. She was looking pointedly at Sabra and tapping her foot.

Sabra smiled hesitantly at the three others. "Umm…I need to go."

"Okay," the black haired boy said. "Oh by the way," he added, sticking out his hand. "I'm Harry Potter; these are my friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger."

She extracted one hand from her pile of books and reached out to shake his hand. "Nice to meet'cha. I'm Sabra. Sabra Levi"

Harry Seemed confused for a moment, as if he was waiting for something else, but took his hand back after shaking hers, and turned back to the other two.

Sabra stepped over to her mother with an apologetic look on her face. "Sorry Ima. I got…sorta…distracted. These crazy people think its Christmas in the summer."

"Crazy is as crazy does," Mrs. Levi said shrugging. "Come on. We're almost done shopping." She set her bundles on a nearby table and ticked them off as she read the school list. "Robes, we have; a cauldron, gloves, school books, all in English….Hmm. All we need now is a new wand.

Sabra grimaced. Her father had broken the last one when he sat on it the other week. He insisted it was the chair's fault for not warning him.

"The man in the bar said that there's a wand shop somewhere along here. It should be close."

They wandered along for a while more until Sabra tugged her mother's sleeve, pointing to a sign dangling across the street.

'Olivander's wands-makers of fine wands since 382 BC'

They crossed the street, carefully avoiding collision with the many people, and opened the small glass door.

The two stepped inside the shop, and stood still for a moment, dazed by the sudden silence after the activity of the ally.

Sabra carefully stepped forward and gently hit the bell on the desk. She heard nothing, but in a moment an old wizened man appeared before them. He took hold on her hand and pulled her over to an open area beside the desk. He motioned for Mrs. Levi to sit down on a free chair; one of the few not covered over with long, thin boxes.

"Come, come," he said. "You want a wand, right?"

Before Sabra could nod, he had disappeared into the shelves and stacks of white boxes.

He returned in a moment with a handful of boxes and set them down on the desk. "Am I correct in assuming that you are from the Middle East?"

She nodded again. "Israel."

"Try this wand. Eight and half inches, willow, dragon heartstring core."

Sabra delicately took it and raised her arm to wave, but stopped in midair. "Wait a second; why don't you have to take my measurements? When I got my first wand, the woman spent forever measuring me."

Mr. Olivander, for that's who it was, smiled slightly, and flourished a piece of parchment. "Thankfully, I had your last measurements forwarded to me, so you need not be measured again."

"Oh." Sabra raised the wand again and brought it swishing down. The parchment Mr. Olivander was holding burst suddenly and violently into flame.

"Not that one," she said sheepishly.

"I think not," he agreed. He brought out another one, this one awfully large, and handed it carefully to her. "Twelve inches, ash, unicorn tail hair core."

Sabra grasped it firmly and gave it a flourish. The glass on a picture across the room melted into a blob and ran out onto the floor."

"No way." She quickly handed it back to Mr. Olivander, who took it with a faint smile.

"Nine inches, oak sapling, phoenix feather core."

Sabra took this one with a sigh and waved it through the air. A row of boxes turned a fierce shade of violet; Mrs. Levi quickly waved her own wand, restoring them to their original colour."

"Hmm." Mr. Olivander replaced each wand to its box and set them on a shelf. "Israel, you said?" Once again, he didn't wait for the nod as he reached under the desk and brought out a black box. "I got this in a few years ago; try it." He opened the box and took out the smallest wand Sabra had ever seen. "Six and a half inches, olive wood, sphinx hair core. Sounds perfect for you."

Sabra took it and carefully waved it. A familiar glow lit up the wand as silver and gold sparkles shot out the end.

"Yes, yes. Tov."

A few minutes later, they exited the shop, having paid and thanked the kind old man. Sabra stuck the wand in the cord at her waist and turned to her mother grinning. "Well that didn't take too long. The first time I must have tried about a hundred; I like Mr. Olivander's better."

Her mother nodded. "Yes I believe you're right," her mother said.

"So, Ima. What's next?"

"Well, I still need to get you a present. Your Aba got you your chamsa necklace, but I need to get you something."

Sabra briefly touched the charm that hung around her neck; her father had gotten it for her as a goodbye gift. She smiled at her mother. "Well you know I'm always up for presents!"

Mrs. Levi took her hand and led her across the street to a small shop squeezed in next to a large Quidditch supply shop. A large black raven perched on top of a sign stating: 'Hakuryuu's Pets.'

"A pet! Really? Oh, wow!"

Mrs. Levi smiled as she pulled her daughter inside the shop.

The walls were lined with cages filled with mice, rats, cats, ferrets, birds, though not any owls, turtles and a few toads. Behind the counter, a young man sat on a tall stool, peering down at the book he held. He reached up and fiddled with the monocle in his right eye, then reached down and turned the page.

Sabra cleared her throat, but he didn't hear her. She was about to go over and tap him on the shoulder when she heard a quiet 'Kyuu!' and a small white head peeked around the edge of a box.

"Hello," she said softly.

The head pulled back, then poked out again. A small white dragon followed it; smaller then a normal dragon, it was big enough to fly up to the man and land on his left shoulder

He absently petted it, but it leaned forward and bit his ear, below the two cuffs that adorned it.

"Hakuryuu!" he cried, dropping the book. "What the--!" Then he noticed Sabra and her mother. "Oh dear, I'm very sorry; I was reading and…well…"

Sabra grinned. "Biseder, don't worry. I can relate."

He grinned and rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Well, what can I do for you?"

"I'm getting her a pet for school," Mrs. Levi said. "What do you recommend?"

"For school, eh? Well I don't have any owls here; you may have noticed.
"I don't want an owl," Sabra said. "I want something cuddly."

The man grinned again. "Cuddly? I have rats; you might not think it but most aren't as bad as they seem. They're intelligent and clean, and actually very cute. Hakuryuu come back here!"

The dragon had flown to a cage full of brown rats and was sniffing them without much interest.

"Why did you name the shop after Hakuryuu? I mean, he's a pet too, isn't he?"

The man laughed. "Well I think 'Cho's Pets' sounds a little foolish, don't you think?"

"Your name is Cho?"

"No, that's my last name. I am Cho Hakkai."

"I though you said your last name was Cho." Sabra scrunched up her face in confusion.

"It is. I'm from Japan, and the names are backwards here."

"Everything's backwards here," Sabra muttered.

Hakkai heard her and laughed. "And where are you from?"

"Israel."

Mrs. Levi cleared her throat. "Sabra? Pet?"

"Oh, oh yeah! Umm…I'm not sure I want a rat."

Hakkai nodded. "Okay, then how about a cat? I only have one right now, but I can get more."

Sabra widened her eyes. "A kitten?" He nodded. "Ooh! Lemme see!"

He reached below the counter and took out a small bundle of black fur. The kitten raised its head and yawned, sticking out its tongue.

"I want it! Oh, he's so cute! Kawai'i!"

"You know Japanese?" Hakkai asked. "I'm impressed."

"Not much. I really should be working on my English, but Japanese is so fun." Then, "Ima, can I have it, please?"

"First of all, you can't keep saying 'it'." She looked up at Hakkai with a question in her eyes.

"This little fellow is a he. He came in just a week ago and is only about two months old."

"Oh. So can I have him? B'vakashah?"

Mrs. Levi sighed. "I really don't see why not, though I warn you, a rat is easier."

"Yeah! Toda, Ima!" She reached over the counter and picked up the small creature. "Oh I love him! I'm going to name him Zion!"

Hakkai laughed again and took out a large wicker cage. "Here, put him in this, just until you get to school. It shouldn't be starting to far away, and you don't want him to get used to a home other then school.

"Okay. Toda rabah."

They left the shop with Mrs. Levi carrying the packages and Sabra with the cat in her arms and her wand at her waist.

They stopped at an ice-cream parlour and sat at one of the outdoor tables. A busy young witch stopped at their table and took their order as the kitten explored the table.

"Oh Ima, he's really mine?"

Her mother nodded, smiling at the pleased look on her daughter's face. 'It was worth it,' she decided, watching Sabra contentedly. 'It was hard, but if I had the choice, I'd adopt her again.

Suddenly the kitten stood up, sniffed the air a few times, and launched himself at Sabra. She squeaked as he clawed his way up her sweater and onto her shoulder. When he stuck his nose in her ear, she laughed, startled. The kitten turned around a few times, then settled down, purring loudly.

"Sabra?" Mrs. Levi asked as their ice-cream arrived.

"Hmm?" Sabra petted the cat with one hand and picked up her spoon and dug into the coffee flavoured ice-cream with the other.

"What are you going to name him? I mean, we can't just call him 'cat,' now can we?"

"I already told you. His name is Zion."

"So you did," her mother said slowly. "So you did." There was a pause in which Sabra played happily with Zion and her mother watched her, chin in hands.

"Hey," said Sabra, breaking the silence. "Let's go home. Aba hasn't seen Zion yet."

They stood up and walked down Daigon Ally, Mrs. Levi carrying the packages again and Sabra with Zion perched on her shoulder, watching the passing crowds with his wide amber eyes. He batted at a lank of her curly brown hair, sweeping it off his seat.

As they strolled along, Sabra noticed the shops bordering the road. Many looked like any muggle shop, but some seemed more exotic, even dangerous.

'Scary Sweets'

'Gandalf's Gadgets'

'The Magical Thrift,' old and reusable magical items

'Cricket Café' Food for the witch or wizard with exotic tastes

'Baggin's Books'

'Poison Pieces' at this shop, Sabra noticed a sickly yellow glow emanating from the clouded up windows. She quickly walked by, trying to ignore the ratty old witch drinking out of a vial as she left the building.

When they reached The Leaky Cauldron, they walked right through the main room and through a small side door most people didn't notice. Inside was a room entirely filled with fireplaces.

Mrs. Levi dug in her pockets and took out a small, brown, leather bag bulging with its contents. Sabra took out her new wand and pointed it at the largest of the hearths, then quickly spoke the charm to summon fire.

Orange flames crackled to life, brightening the dusty room. Reaching into the pouch her mother held, she took out a pinch of toxic green powder and tossed it into the fire; it immediately turned a strong emerald green.

She took Zion off her shoulder, stepped into the fire and said clearly, "Bayit Levi!" At the last moment she remembered to yank her glasses off her face and clench them tightly in her fist.

Sabra felt herself being spun around incredibly fast; she cracked open one eye but quickly shut it after seeing the green flames whip around her and the multiple glances into passing grates. She clutched Zion tightly to her chest; he mewed protesting, but didn't struggle.

As the wind raged against her face, she zoomed down the floo network, her short hair streaming out behind her. After a few moments, she began slowing down; the wind lessened and as she cracked open an eye, the streaks became more recognizable as passing hearths. Slower they passed, until Sabra could have looked through each one and seen exactly what was going on. Two more coloured squares passed her vision before she stopped altogether and lurched through a brownstone fireplace.

Sabra looked up from the floor, dazed, before a tall man came over to her and quickly ushered him out of the way. She blinked a few times, regaining her balance, before her father let her go and strode back to the hearth, catching Mrs. Levi as she fell out, burdened with all the packages.

Zion meowed in her ear and she jumped, having forgotten about the new pet pressed against her. As he was sitting on her shoulder once more, she supposed he had wiggled free and climbed up.

Sabra slid her black spectacles back on her face, and the blue-theme living room spun into focus. She collapsed on the largest, fluffiest couch, scratching Zion behind the ears.

"I can't see anything without my glasses," she grumbled.

"So," said Mr. Levi. "What on earth could you have gotten that needs this many packages?" His brown eyes twinkled good-naturedly as he inspected the closed bundles. He tugged at the securing twine, freeing its contents. Looking over them, he grinned.

Sabra smiled, content, as Zion purred in her ear. She yawned behind her hand, blinking sleepily.

"I think we're all tired," her mother said. "Time for bed." She raised her wand and all the candles blew out.

Sabra stood slowly up and raised her arms in a stretch, careful not to dislodge Zion. She bent down to pick up the bundle containing her school clothes, but her mother stopped her.

"I'll take them," she said. "I'll iron them and put your name on them."

Sabra smiled sleepily. "Mmkay Ima. Me'n Zion'll go to bed now. Lila tov."

"Lila tov," her mother echoed.

She slowly trudged over to the stairs and wearily climbed them. Walking down the short hall, she opened her bedroom door and went in.

As she undressed, Zion sat on her pillow, solemnly her with his large amber eyes. Sabra pulled a loose thread from her curtain and dangled it above his head; he meowed and batted at it. She pulled it higher, just out of his reach and he jumped for it. Catching it, he rolled around on the bed, biting playfully at it.

Picking him up, Sabra climbed into her bed and pulled the coverlet up to her chin. As she drifted off to sleep, she felt Zion climb onto her chest and begin to loudly purr.