Summary:
The World is what we make it, so what happens to the Wizarding World when three select people come together, ready to shake the very foundations that created the corrupt world that every wizard and witch was living in. What can an ex-Golden Boy, a Dark Lord, and a strange new Wand Maker do?
Warnings: Yoai, Light Bashing, Hermione/Ron/Ginny/Dumbles Bashing, Dark!Harry, AU, and OOC
Pairings: TMR/?, HP/DM
Disclaimer: Am I a Witch? Maybe. Did I write this story? Yes. Does the World belong to me? Hah! I wish! Do I OWN Harry Potter? Where the heck did you get the Idea I did?
A/N: Oh, look , another Plot bunny, goody!
"Speaking"
Letter/Thoughts
"Parseltounge"
"Russian"
Change of Heart, Change of Mind
Chapter One- And So It Begins
Lord Voldemort stood near the large window balcony in his study twirling his Yew and Phoenix Feather wand in his hands, lightly caressing it.
He knew he couldn't use this wand anymore.
After all, he wouldn't be able to kill The-Boy-Who-Wouldn't-Die with it.
It would be hard to part with it, and it also made him wonder who would commission a wand for a Dark Lord. It wasn't everyday that you ran into a great wand maker who wasn't prejudiced against Dark Magic and was actually sane.
Well… somewhat.
He sighed. If only there was a wand maker who would just make wands for people no matter the race, title, or blood purity.
Little did Lord Voldemort know that one such wand maker was setting up his shop in Moscow, and that almost overnight, word of the new wand maker would spread across wizarding society; from the cold cities of Russia, to the free Americans of the United States before reaching the ears of the wizards residing in the United Kingdom.
Little did Lord Voldemort know that Freelance Wands had begun their new business.
Harry Potter had had enough.
Lord Voldemort had risen again, he had watched his godfather pass through the veil at the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic, watched as Lord Voldemort descended upon him, sent a Cruciatus Curse at Bellatrix Lestrange, and best of all, he was back at the Dursleys'.
Oh, did he forget to mention that he had realized long ago that he was just Dumbledore's puppet?
Yes, he knew.
He'd known since the end of his third year when Dumbledore had forced Sirius to go on the run. He'd sat down in the Gryffindor Common Room that last night of the school year and recognized that he was being tossed around like some toy that could be ripped to shreds, broken, tossed away, or set ablaze in a matter of seconds.
He'd recognized the tall tale signs that his life was being played with.
Breaking away from his thoughts, Harry Potter stood and made his way towards his school trunk and proceeded to clean it out, tossing his handed down muggle clothing into a pile and reorganizing everything inside of the trunk itself.
Self consciously, Harry raised a hand to clutch at the vault key that hung around his neck.
Did Dumbledore honestly think that he would be a good little Golden Boy forever?
If he did, than the old fart need to go talk to a psychiatrist, because Harry was not going to have anything to do with being this hero that would save all of Wizarding kind from a Dark Lord like they wanted to think.
Harry was pure Slytherin.
He'd perfected his golden boy mask, kept up his façade and had learned more than one would have thought possible in two years.
Harry had devoured book after book, reading like his life depended on it, and while he'd hidden everything he learned and every book he'd ordered by owl with expert care, he'd learned of Ron, Ginny and Hermione's' selfishness and betrayal.
They had pretended to care, but Ginny only wanted his fame, something he had not wished for in the first place.
It was time to leave, time to strike out against Dumbledore by doing one thing that no one would expect.
He'd show his true self and become the one person they feared he would become.
Harry would become a Dark Wizard; he would ignore the cries of help from the Light Prejudice Wizards.
It was time to show the wizarding world just how foolish they truly were.
Harry grabbed his wand from his desk before freeing Hedwig from her cage, telling her to meet him at the Leaky Cauldron before he levitated his trunk with wandless magic and headed downstairs toward the front door of Number 4 Privet Drive.
Swinging the door open Harry stepped over the threshold and out into the darkness of the night, and pulling his wand from his jeans pocket he approached the curb with confidence in every step before he raised his wand and heard the familiar bang of the Night Bus.
"Muggle London."
Delmar Veridiant CrossHand grinned to himself as he looked upon the newly refurbished shop, smiling softly as he gazed upon the rows and rows of shelves that held the many wands he had created.
Humming tunelessly, Delmar agilely leapt up and over the store counter top of Freelance Wands. The world would be changed soon, and its very foundations were already shifting, Delmar could feel it.
It also gave him great amusement that he was one of the few who were changing the world. His father had been wrong when he'd said that 'The World Would Never Change'.
Delmar broke away from his thoughts as he heard the shops door open, glancing up towards the man that stood in the doorway he smirked, Time to get to work. I can only hope that Harry begins to set his plans into action soon.
Harry sat up and frowned slightly as he heard a rustle coming from the window, lifting his gaze he stared at the Barn Owl perched atop the sill of his muggle hotel room.
Sighing, Harry slipped off of the hotel's bed and made his way over to the window, opening it up to let the creature into the room away from the winter cold.
Cautiously the owl hobbled inside, wary of the many shopping bags in the room, but diligently held out its leg, revealing a letter.
Frown deepening slightly Harry bent over and untied the letter going to his trunk and producing an owl treat for the messenger before watching it take off and closing the window.
Opening the letter Harry eyed the squiggly apprehensively. He could guess what it was, a letter from the goblins about the reading of Sirius's will, but opened it nonetheless.
Dear Mr. Potter,
We hope this letter finds you well and we offer our greatest condolences. If you did not already know, Sirius Black, your Godfather has passed away. We hope you will be able to attend the reading of your Godfathers' will tomorrow morning at 9 an hour before the reading being held for Mr. Blacks' Family and friends.
You are to come alone and tell no one of this, as it were, Mr. Black Requested in his will that you were to hear his will first and in privacy as it contains some things that may disturb and anger.
Sermist
Head Goblin of Gringotts Wizarding Bank
Diagon Alley
London, England
Saddened by the reminder of Sirius's death, Harry trooped over to his bed and lay down; clutching the letter securely and silently cried himself to sleep.
Delmar was astounded by the amount of witches and wizards who had come to him within a day of the stores official opening.
Motioning to the witch that had entered the store a few moments ago, he gave her a gentle smile before having her test out a few of his already crafted wands before realizing that the witch would need a custom.
"Ms. I realize that this is a personal question, but it is crucial you answer it."
The witch hesitated slightly before telling him to ask his question.
Looking her straight in the eye he asked: "Are you a Dark Wizard?"
Fearfully she replied that she was.
Delmar knew why she had been hesitant to answer his question, in times like these it was rare for a wand maker to sell his or her wands to any Dark Wizard, which was why wand makers like Olivander never asked.
"Please forgive me for prying, you see; I don't place any of my wands that could be for a dark wizard on my shops shelves. It would cause problems with many witches in wizards even though we live here, do you still wish for a wand?"
"I-Yes, Yes I still want to purchase a wand."
Smirking slightly, Delmar told her to climb over the counter and follow him.
Reluctantly, she did as she was told.
Lord Voldemort sat upon his throne in front of his Death Eaters, slightly grim.
Today, he would find out if the Dark Witch that had been sent to the new wand maker in Moscow had made it back alive.
"Jenifer Veracruze, step forward." Well, she was alive for starters.
"Yes, My Lord?"
"What of the new wand maker Delmar CrossHand who runs Freelance Wands?"
"My Lord, Delmar… Is different, he creates wands for both Light and Dark wizards and witches and seems to hold no prejudice against us."
"You bought a wand from him then?"
"Yes My Lord, however it was not one of the wands he had on display, it is a custom."
"Very well, let me see it." Lord Voldemort held out his hand for her new wand and after a minute she handed it over to him.
Surprise filtered through him as he gauged the power, strength, and bond of the wand in his hand before handing it back to his Russian follower.
"You said it was custom made?"
Jenifer nodded, pocketing her wand.
"Why?"
"Delmar said that he did not have them on his shelves because of prejudiced Light Wizards, but he had wands that were for Dark Wizards in a separate corner of his shop. When I asked why they were separate he said it was for business sake, not because he cared if his customers were Light or Dark. In fact, when we were in the other part of the store, alone, he spoke these words to me: '' 'Мир ни Легок, ни Темен, власть - власть, волшебство волшебно. Только те, кто не желает понять это, истинно слабы.' When translated it means: 'The world is neither Light nor Dark, power is power, magic is magic. Only the ones who do not wish to realize this are the truly weak.' It was custom made because although he had a wide selection of Dark wands present none of them were right for me."
The Death Eaters present let out small gasps; none of them had heard someone talk like that before.
Leaning back into his throne, he dismissed Jenifer with a wave of his hand.
"It seems that there is finally a competent Wand Maker in the Wizarding World."
End, Chapter One.