Rating: T - Language, Sexuality, and Graphic Violence
Warning: There are many relationships that spring up in this story whether they are gay, straight, scandalous, or what-have-you. If you believe that such content may offend you, just know that you have been warned.
Spoiler Possibilities: Setting takes place several years after Voldemort's fall.
"Harry Potter" Universe and Associated Settings/Characters © J.K. Rowling
Finneus Rowland, Charles Grisham, Rebecca McCormick © Kari Tryk
Fun Fact: This fanfic also intertwines with Kerriganlkam's The School Years of Finneus Rowland. You should check it out.
Chapter One
The wiry wisps of the man's hair stuck in almost all directions, making him look incredibly aged and disheveled, yet somehow refined. There was a wild look in his sunken eyes that was accompanied by a slightly crooked grin as he hopped off the wooden step ladder. This man looked completely insane. Nonetheless, the man had a wide grin plastered on his face as he sauntered back toward the front of the store.
"I knew I'd be seeing you here soon enough," he announced proudly, setting another open box atop the front counter. "It's about that time of year where new students begin receiving their letters, am I right?"
There were seven wands, total, laid out across the old dusty countertop. All of them were crafted with the unique and genius workings one would expect from Ollivander, but all of them shared one thing in common that seemed to make the boy scrunch up his nose in disapproval.
"Willow?" the boy spoke softly, slightly raising his dark brow as he stared at the wands through his thick-rimmed glasses. "All of them are made of Willow?"
"A fitting choice for a young Elwyn," the old man reassured; his voice was hoarse with age but still carrying a mystifying undertone that kept the boy, somewhat, entranced. "The same Willow tree that has supplied excellent wands to your family for generations!"
"Is that so?" he replied dryly while running a hand through his spiky black locks only to have them fall back in front of his face. "Including my sister?"
Ollivander nodded, broadening his smile. "But of course! Regina was so pleased, too!"
"I'm sure she was," the boy's tone became more derisive, making the old wandmaker's smile falter slowly. "What else do you have?"
"What else?" the man asked, perplexity clearly etched into his worn features. "These wands do not suffice?"
"These wands are lovely," the boy sighed while running an index finger along one of them. His furrowed brow began to soften into a sullen stare. "But surely you have wands made of something other than Willow?"
"Yes, indeed I do," Ollivander answered warily.
"Master Rhys," the stern voice of the house elf behind him interjected politely. "Do try and not give Mr. Ollivander a hard time."
"This has nothing to do with giving him a hard time. Simply put, none of those wands will work," Rhys explained with a knowing smirk toward the stiff-standing elf at the door leaning into his black cane.
His elf, known as Kai, stared back at him with a hint of skepticism. "How would the young master know if he hasn't even tried one yet?"
"I agree!" The old man exclaimed with an enthusiastic shake of his finger. "I have just the one, too!"
Ollivander plucked a dainty wand displayed on his right, presenting it to Rhys with an eager smile. The boy sighed once more, dispassionately, as he gripped the wand in his right hand. It was noticeably slimmer than the others, its intricate carvings at the grip made it easier to hold onto.
He turned to the more vacant corner of the room, giving one last apprehensive glance to Kai before outstretching his arm with one swift flick of his wrist.
A blue flame burst from the end of the wand with a wild cackle, quickly coiling backward to engulf the young boy's hand before dropping to the cold wooden floor.
"OW!"
"Master Rhys!"
He glared down at his knuckles, which were quickly becoming a dark shade of red that stung painfully even to the feel of the stale chill in the air, before looking back at the old man contemptuously. "Any other Willow wands you want me to test out? I think the next one could burn the entire shop down if I tried hard enough!"
"A strange occurrence, indeed," Ollivander pondered, ignoring the young boy's complaint. "This has never happened to an Elwyn before. I wonder what Nicholas would make of this..."
"Sir Nicholas," Rhys found himself correcting the old man, despite how he tried to bite his tongue.
What would Sir Nicholas have to say about the family wands rejecting his only son? Would he be disappointed or would he simply continue to display his usual indifference as if he could not care either way? It was what Rhys expected of a man who could not take his own son to Diagon Alley and, instead, sent a house elf to be his guide. If he was going to be honest, he could not bring himself to care about what would disappoint that man or not. As long as he was left free to make his own choices like the "mature young man" he supposedly was, then he would take the opportunity to break as far away from his family as possible. Or perhaps, it was just his sister...
"Regardless of what my father would think about this, the wand rejected me just the same as you can plainly see," Rhys snapped with a gesture to his hand, which had turned to a deep scarlet.
"Are you certain it was not you who rejected the wand?"
"And if I did?"
"I do not understand it," the old man stated as he knelt down to pick up the wand. "You and this wand could do great things together if you opened up to it. These wands have always helped all the of the Elwyn family that aspired to greatness."
"I am more than just an Elwyn," Rhys muttered softly. His gaze dropped to his burnt fingers, narrowing in order to maintain a composed expression.
There was a brief moment of silence as the old man stared at Rhys, still slightly baffled. The man's beady eyes studied his customer carefully, becoming more thoughtful as the seconds passed. Phys was started to debate whether the wand was truly necessary after all. He had been so sure when he walked into the old wand shop, but after thinking it over and even having confused the old wandmaker, himself, he felt his own confidence wane. Maybe his selfishness was what was putting things out of sorts, but did that mean he really had to open himself up to something he wanted to be without?
"I understand, young master," Ollivander finally spoke using the formality playfully before disappearing into an aisle.
"Master Rhys, you really should let me treat that."
"I'm fine, Kai," the boy spat huffily, hugging his injured hand to his chest.
"There's no need for you to be so stubborn, my lord," Kai stated under his breath. "You're making things more complicated than they have to be."
"Maybe so," he replied quietly, eyeing the Willow wands warily. "But I don't aspire to greatness, much. At least, I don't think I do."
"Here it is!" the old man exclaimed excitedly as he emerged from behind the shelf. "This one should do the trick!"
Rhys looked down at the new wand with mild suspicion, studying the curved carvings in the light colored wood that was noticeably different from the others.
"It's Holly," Ollivander assured with a broad grin as he beckoned the young boy to take it.
"Holly?" he questioned, taking the wand in hand. "Interesting."
"Give it a wave! Go on!"
With another flick of his wrist, a strong breeze swept past them, cooling his skin with a pleasant numbness while a light shock pricked at his fingertips. He could feel a connection with this wand being established as a sudden heat ran across his skin, making him feel comforted at the mere touch.
"Someone looks pleased."
"I was sure it was about to reject me, but the pricking in my hands didn't even hurt," he explained, still slightly baffled. "What core is this?"
"Veela," the man stated proudly with a small smirk of satisfaction. "It creates a powerful core, but is quite temperamental in nature. Like some people we may know."
Rhys ignored the last comment as he inspected the new wand with insatiable curiosity. "Temperamental? You mean unpredictable."
"The mystery is what makes it so great, young Elwyn."
"I would rather you let me treat that than shop anymore," Kai muttered as he trotted behind Rhys hurriedly with a minor limp, something the boy remembered the elf having since he was small.
"You're starting to annoy me, Kai," he spat. "I said I'm fine!"
"I'm alright with that," the elf retorted, "if my concern for you is seen as 'annoying' I'll gladly accept the title."
Rhys rolled his eyes as he turned towards Eeylops Owl Emporium, a fairly small shop displaying wired cages of all sizes at the entrance, opening the door to the sound of various hoots and screeches that began to rise as he entered the building. The owls and all necessary accessories lined the walls of the shop and created many narrow aisles with large cages with the bulky birds seeming to glare at them from their perches. Suddenly, he felt unnerved having such sharp eyes staring at him so intently, whistling at him, as if he agitated them somehow.
"An owl already, Master Rhys?" Kai asked. "But we still—"
"We've done plenty already," the boy stated, though he was beginning to doubt himself with every step he took toward the counter, "I'm just ready to buy the bloody bird and be done with it!"
Kai stepped back to put himself behind his master, knowing he would not be able to sway him any further. "As you wish."
"And what brings such a young wizard to my shop all alone this afternoon?" A raspy voice sounded from behind them, making the pair jump up in surprise.
Rhys whirled around to look at the old man whose white hair reminded him a lot of Ollivander. He wore a long dark robe that must have spent a great deal of time sweeping dust up from the floor. He had dark yet gentle eyes that made him the only approachable being in the building.
"My master is in need of an owl before his first year at Hogwarts, sir," Kai explained with a slight bow of his head as he spoke.
The man gave a wry smile with a quick glance to the restless birds. "You came to the right place, lad! Is there any particular bloody bird that you were looking for?"
Rhys found himself disregarding the man's comment as he stepped toward a cage to his right. The owl was tall and slender with silky white feathers with small flecks of brown. It raised its head with a slight tilt, eyeing the boy's injured hand as he held it up against the edge of the copper bars. In an instant, the owl's head dove forward, taking a sharp bite from Rhys's index finger making the boy shout out in pain as he jumped back.
"Master Rhys! Are you alright?"
"What on earth is wrong with that thing?" he hissed, holding his hand to him again as he softly wiped the trail of blood with his sleeve; he took care not to look down as he did so.
"My boy," the man began, seeming shocked, yet still composed, "you can't approach a Barn owl, or any owl for that matter, by challenging it so brazenly. The owls are your companions; you have to establish an air of respect in order for it to accept you."
"I'm not trying to challenge anything," Rhys snapped as he tried to shake the pain from his hand, earning a disbelieving grunt from the elf to his side.
"Well, try another one," the man suggested with a gesture to a smaller owl with various shades of brown coloring its feathers. "Burrowing owls are smaller and friendlier than the Barn owls who have a much bigger pride. They sell very well; in fact, I sold my younger one, Digger, just this morning!"
"Is that so?" he mumbled wryly as he reluctantly held his hand up to the cage.
"Master Rhys! You should use your other hand."
"Why? So I can have two injured hands. No, thank you."
Without any hesitation, the small owl, who seemed content in the bundled nest at the bottom of its cage, leaped up with a shrill squawk as it bit Rhys' fingers twice before he could pull his hand away.
"Bloody hell!" he shouted as he clutched his arm to him. "What's the matter with your birds?"
Before the old man could utter a response, the entire store erupted into a continuous roar of screeches as they all began to fight against their cages in an attempt to get at him. Rhys stumbled back, staggering into three more cages with sharp talons tearing at his shirt.
"Ow!" he cried out, throwing his arm back and knocking the cages over as he went tumbling down.
"Be careful, lad!" The man called out over the shrieking, stepping towards to cages to set them upright.
"I-it was an accident!"Rhys stammered, panic clearly detectable in his voice.
Another distinct cry made the young Elwyn look back to see that he had knocked one of the cages wide open. Razor like talons, dark and slender, gripped the opening before a large head with wide and bright orange orbs glowered at him. The Horned owl emerged quickly, stretching its massive wings in threat before lifting off from the cage with a piercing shriek. Rhys crawled back on his elbows, unable to manage the capacity to lift himself from the ground and run. He could only stare into the wide demonic hues with his mouth open in a silent scream.
"Master Rhys!" Kai shouted as he jumped in front of the boy, brandishing his cane in order to ward off the bird. "Please! Wait outside!"
Without further hindrance, upon the command the boy scrambled to his feet and sprinted from the shop, slamming the door shut behind him in order to muffle the disgruntled cries from the hellish creatures inside.
"Goodness!" A startled witch gasped, stopping in her tracks to stare at the tattered boy sitting at the front of the shop. "My boy, what on earth happened to you?"
He could not gather the breath to reply to the woman, but merely stared up at her in bewilderment. Never before had he felt his heart hammer in his chest like this or been this humiliated in his life; he could not even think of asking the woman for help. He could feel the warmth of the blood trickling over his skin, and he began to tremble uncontrollably, unable to bring himself to look down at it. If he did, he was sure that he would vomit.
The woman knelt in from of him; her honey brown eyes were as inviting and as warm as her smile as she gently reached to touch the scratches on his cheek. Her vibrant burgundy curls fell to the side of her face from beneath her dark green cloak, and light freckles were scattered about her cheeks. A small girl with the same green cloak peered at him from over the woman's shoulder; he guessed it must have been a daughter based on the same shade of burgundy in her short and choppy locks. But the girl's eyes were dark and wide with curiosity, unmoving as she studied his face with a small smile.
"Where are you parents, dear?" The woman asked, looking around from someone who would claim the startled child on the ground.
"M-my elf is inside the shop, miss," he croaked, unable to shake the owl's eyes from his mind. Maybe that was what was so unnerving about the girl; her eyes were wide like that of an owl.
"Tsk, tsk," she muttered under her breath with a disapproving shake of her head. "That won't do. He won't be able to help you with these cuts now will he?"
"You don't have to," he managed as he withdrew his hand away from her before she could grab at it.
"Nonsense, dear," she spoke more sternly as she lightly smacked Rhys's good hand to move it out of the way. "You shouldn't walk about the Alley like this. It's not proper."
With a hard swallow to his, already, shattered pride, Rhys held out his hand apprehensively.
"Episkey."
In an instant, the cuts that trailed down his hands closed, along with the scratches on his face and shoulders as she motioned her hand to the rest of him. As each of them healed he felt more relived as the pain slowly melted away from his body.
"Lord Rhys!" Kai shouted frantically as he ran out the door with a curious look to the woman.
"I'm sorry, but you may still want to find something for that burn, dear," she said with another meek smile as she stood up. "I'm sure you'll be alright from here."
"Thank you, miss!" he called after her earning a wave from the woman as her daughter looked back at him.
Her grin seemed like something more of a playful smirk as she waved with her fingers. "Goodbye young lord!"
"Master Rhys, your wounds," Kai commented with a look to his hand. "Did that young witch treat them for you?"
"Out of a strange act of kindness, yes," he replied.
He exhaled deeply as he heaved himself to his feet, not daring to look back through the window of the dark emporium. It was clear that they were too resentful to accept someone like him to be their companion, and something about that thought made his shoulders sink dejectedly as he followed Kai into another building without a word. After another moment, he heard tiny squeaks sounding from all around him before he looked up to scan the area.
"Kai, where have you taken me?"
"It's the Magical Menagerie, my lord," Kai stated with a gesture to the small tanks and cages each holding small and furry creatures. "If you would still like a companion, this would be the next best thing."
"And there are no owls here?"
"Unfortunately, no!" an enthusiastic shout filled the room as a tall wizard in a silver robe hurried his way across the shop to greet them. His wide smile didn't falter even as the young boy only stared up at him blankly in reply. "But the creatures here are no less capable of being a companion suitable for any great wizard! Did you have anything in mind?"
"A cat, perhaps? What do you think, Master Rhys?"
The boy cringed inwardly at the thought of an animal with razor sharp claws and teeth. He did not need to confront another companion with as much pride as he had; he no longer had the energy.
"Well, you may select from my reference book if you'd like!"
"That would be helpful. Thank you, sir."
Ignoring their chatter, no longer interested in having anything to do with any animal, Rhys let himself wander the store, staring blankly into the small tanks of balled up kittens and yawning bats. None of them looked particularly appealing, especially when none of them even spared him a second glance as he passed. He ran his burnt fingers gingerly against the glass, trailing over to the small wire cages with other furry animals that had been too nestled in their beds to pay attention. Until he felt something tug at his finger.
Rhys paused, raising a brow as he stared down at the small rat that had jumped from its bedding to grab onto his index finger. The slender rat was still small, probably only a couple of months old with a sleek off white coat that became a light tan around its face, making appear hooded. "And what can I do for you?" He mumbled at the small creature which tilted its head in question.
It brought its face closer to his reddened skin, and he could feel the slight sting and tickle of its short breaths as it sniffed him. In one swift motion it leaned forward, making Rhys flinch again, expecting to be bitten fiercely only to feel a gentle sting that was hardly unpleasant at all. He opened one eye to realize that instead of biting or even nibbling at his injured hand, the rat began to lap at him with its surprisingly soft tongue that soon began to tickle rather than sting him. He shuddered once more as he chanced to stick his hand through the top of the cage, and place it palm up next to the baby rat, who kept its dark eyes fixated on Rhys. After another brief pause, the rat hopped onto his hand eagerly, trying to climb up his arm with its sharp, but tiny claws.
He could not stop the wide smile from spreading across his lips as he brought the rat close to his chest, admiring its natural curiosity as it tried to explore him, a stranger, with an obvious sense of trust. He brought it closer to his face, feeling less anxious about it, letting it touch its nose to his before letting out a small sneeze.
"Master Rhys! How does a toad sound?" Kai called to him from the counter, looking up from the reference pages.
"That won't be necessary," he stated immediately with another grin as the rat began to lick his fingers again. "I want this one."
"A young one!" the manager exclaimed excitedly as he rushed to the Elwyn's side. "This one is especially well-behaved, but usually skittish when confronted by others. He seems to have taken kindly to you, boy."
Rhys nodded in agreement, too mesmerized by his new pet to pay attention to anyone else. After the horrid day he had in Diagon Alley without a parent or guardian to properly show him how, he felt as if he could finally stop fighting everything and simply accept something and be accepted in return. The fact that it felt so natural alleviated some of the stress from earlier.
"Do you have a name in mind before I sign him away to you, sir?"
"Ynid."