The Wand chooses the Wizard…

The story of a young Severus Snape chosing his wand as a boy, and the repercussions of that choice later on in his life. Stand-alone, short canon story set over a span of years.

Written by Andrea "TheCopperDragon2004"
Oct 6, 2011- Jan 4, 2012

Part 1

In the dimly lit study of a small, shabby house in Spinner's End, Severus Snape sat in his favorite chair, long legs stretched out before him, and contemplated the wand he held in his large, pale hands..

"Come along, Severus," Eileen told her son in a sharp voice.

The skinny, oddly-dressed boy cringed at her tone, but obediently followed his mother to the dimly lit Diagon Alley shop. He knew she would want to fetch the rest of his new school supplies and be home before his father returned from his job at the mill and found them both gone. His father, a Muggle, was not happy that his son, so like him in appearances, had turned out to be one of "her ilk."

A wizard.

His parents had always fought, but lately their arguments had become both louder, and more frequent. Severus knew he was the reason why; he knew that his father was disappointed in him. He was just all too glad to soon be leaving Spinner's End, forsaking his father and mother and their neglected little home, for the safety and prestige of Hogwarts…

The soft tinkling of a bell brought Severus's thoughts back to the present as his mother held the door open and motioned for him to proceed her in. His heart hitched in his chest with excitement as he stepped over the stone threshold and into the ancient shop. The very air smelled of wood, and dust, and age, and magic.

Ollivander's.

His eyes quickly grew accustomed to the dark, oil-lamp lit shop and he took a deep breath to calm himself. He wanted to do his mother's side of the family proud, and therefore would not act like a gawking, bumbling Muggle in the shop, touching everything and making a pest of himself. However, he could not help but quickly and discreetly scan the entire room, taking in the thousands of deep red, green, and blue boxes lined on the shelves, drinking in the sights to mull over later with Lily. He wondered what type of wand she'd gotten..

He heard the soft footsteps of the shop owner coming forward from the back rooms, and Severus snapped his attention to the elderly man as he greeted his mother.

"Miss Prince- now Missus Snape, of course," the white-haired man bowed respectfully. "I wondered when I would be seeing you in here again. It seems only yesterday, that you were here, buying your first wand."

If the shop owner ever wondered why the dark-haired woman standing before him had never come back to his shop to buy a newer wand, as many witches and wizards did once they graduated from Hogwarts, he did not voice his thoughts. Perhaps it was because her family was too poor to afford a replacement. Perhaps she was one of those rare students who had taken excellent care of their wand and never needed to replace one that had been snapped or misplaced or merely outgrown. Or perhaps it was because she'd lost most of her magic, if the rumors he had heard over the years were true..

He was never one to place much stock in rumors though.

"So, our young Mister Snape needs a wand," Ollivander stated, eyeing the boy as he considered the vast number of wands available in his shop to which the boy might be suited. Olivander thought the poor boy looked like a half-starved, dirty scarecrow, dressed in clothes that were clearly not intended for him. Hogwarts would be good for him; clean uniforms, regular meals, and socialization with other children. His heart went out to the boy, who, clearly, did not have a good home life.

And yet, beneath his grubby, ill-cared-for exterior, Ollivander could sense immense power within one so young. He was certainly learned; the knowledge from the books this boy had spent years reading was nearly visible, it was as if the black ink from the pages had settled into the depths of his dark eyes.

Severus unconsciously straightened under the man's gaze, and his heart pounded in his ears as he patiently awaited receiving a wand. His wand. Without a word, the old man turned and disappeared down one of the aisles of his shop. Severus could hear him mumbling under his breath as he returned, carrying a dark red box.

"Ziricote and dragon heartstring," Ollivander told the Severus as he held a marbled, dark-on-light patterned wand out to him. "Nine inches, unyielding." Ollivander thought privately that this would be a superb wand for the boy, as the exotic hardwood was protective in nature, and excellent for casting wards and defensive spells. Though the boy showed no visible bruises, Ollivander was sure that he had likely been beaten in the past. You could see it in the way the lad's eyes followed you, his wary expression.

Severus waved the wand, but nothing whatsoever happened. Disappointed, he handed it back to Mr. Ollivander, who lay it on the counter and quickly disappeared among the aisles again.

"Kingwood and unicorn hair, springy, seven and a half inches," he recited, returning with a emerald green box, and held out another wand to the boy. The dark purple and white grained wood was associated with leadership, Ollivander knew, and he could see the boy go far in his career at Hogwarts, should he so choose..

But again, the wand remained impassive in Severus's hands. With a slight frown, the boy sadly returned the wand. Ollivander noticed the boy's mother shift her weight to her other foot, impatient.

"Ah!" the old man said, and returned with a third wand in a dark blue box. "Lignum Vitae and Veela hair, ten and a quarter inches, supple," he told the boy as he handed him the chocolate and butterscotch hued wand. Ollivander deeply hoped that this wand would choose the boy- Lignum Vitae was a positive wood; it represented new beginnings and was known for its healing powers and assistance in making wise decisions. Clearly this boy, with such unkindly beginnings in life, could benefit from these advantages.

But alas, it was not the wand for him.

Severus placed the wand back onto the counter and struggled to suppress the apprehensive thoughts running through his mind. Clearly none of these wands wanted to choose him- what if his mother was wrong? What if he wasn't a wizard? He would never be allowed in to Hogwarts! He would be stuck with his parents, as a Muggle!

"One more to try, lad," Ollivander said as he returned with a dark green box. "Here you are. Redheart and thestral hair. Twelve inches, swishy." Ollivander handed the boy the rose-toned wand, and though he knew the boost in confidence and self-esteem it could give him would be useful, Ollivander knew this wand would not be his either.

Severus gave the wand a wave, but again, to no avail. As he set the useless wand on the counter next to the others he'd tried, he tried not to let panic overwhelm him. Fine, he thought. If he was really a Muggle, or even a Squib, that didn't mean he had to stay at his parent's house forever! He would run away, if he had to. Surely Lily's parents would take him in?

"Mister Ollivander," Eileen spoke up suddenly, "I'm afraid to admit that we really must be going. Simply choose a wand for the boy and he'll have to make do with what he's given. We really must be on our way."

Severus flushed with shame, and quickly dropped his gaze to the floor. His mother knew. She was going to purchase any old wand for him, simply to keep up appearances, then whisk him away, back to Spinner's End. His father, at least, would be pleased to learn his son wouldn't be caught up in all that "Hogwarts nonsense."

"Madam," Ollivander spoke slowly, as if trying to ascertain whether this woman knew what she was suggesting. "I simply cannot choose a wand for the boy, surely you must know this?"

Eileen glanced outside at the sun, setting low in the sky, and repeated herself. "He'll make do. We must be leaving. Come, Severus, choose a wand," she pointed to the stacked boxes on the counter before him.

Severus had barely taken a grudging step forward when Ollivander's fist came crashing down onto the countertop. The wands in their boxes all jumped under the impact, and Severus flinched as he jumped back. The shop had gone completely silent, and the sudden clatter of a wand rolling off the counter to the floor seemed deafening.

Ollivander saw the boy jump when he slammed his hand on the countertop, confirming at least privately, that the boy was abused, but his eyes never left the woman standing before him.

"Madam! I simply will not allow you to do this injustice to your son! To select a wand for him, and send him out into the world with it.. You may as well command him to stop breathing! You'll be neutering him magically! None of these wands will perform magic for him. He would be defenseless, and unable to learn even the most basic charms!"

Eyebrows pulled together in a grimace, Severus hunched down to pick up the wand that had fallen to the floor. He held it in his hand and felt depressed at how it just lay there, like a dead piece of wood. He looked up from his position on the floor and saw Mister Ollivander continuing to lecture his mother on why they couldn't just buy him a wand and leave. Why did everyone around him yell? Settling down on his knees, Severus decided to stay low until the adults finished their discussion. He'd learned, long ago, to make himself scarce whenever his parents got into a row.

The adult's voices melted into background noise as Severus took this time to explore his surroundings. The counter he was hunched behind was actually made as a half-height bookshelf of sorts, and dozens upon dozens of wands in their boxes were haphazardly stuffed into it's shelves. Fingerprints left in the dust showed how regularly they were taken out and tried for new customers. He sat down on the floor and read the labels across them, touching a fingertip to each box with a kind of sad reverence. He would never know what it was like, to have a wand choose to be with you, to do your bidding, to learn along with you as you grew into your own.

Another bang of a fist on the counter made Severus jump, and a second wand rolled off the countertop and fell to the floor next to where he sat. As he watched, it rolled away, under the bottommost shelf of wands. He quickly leaned over and searched the shadows- there! There wasn't much clearance under the counter, but he managed to get his hand beneath it and grabbed the wand that had fallen. As he removed his hand, he saw something else, hidden in the shadows further back.

With a careful glance at the adults, he surreptitiously placed both wands back up on the counter, then kneeled again to peer beneath it, his black hair swinging, leaving trails in the dust on the floor. The mysterious shape was covered in a layer of gray dust so thick he could not be certain, but it appeared to be a box, neglected and hiding in the dark.

Kind of like me, he thought.

He reached under the counter, once again, and had to strain to reach it; it had been pushed back far further under the counter than the wands had rolled. Finally, as his shoulder hit the wood of the counter and he knew he could not reach any further, he felt his fingers touch the item through the spongy layer of dust.

It was definitely a box of some sort.

Severus slowly wiggled it forward with his fingertips until he could pick it up and remove it. Sitting up, he brushed the thick sheets of gray dust from his sleeve and hand, and examined the box.

It was a wand box, and it was white. Or, it once would have been; it was now so badly stained and faded that the box appeared to be made of old parchment. There were no labels or handwriting on it, which he found unusual, as every box he had seen in the store displayed Ollivander's loopy, cursive handwriting. Curious as to what was inside, Severus carefully prized it open, and folded back the brittle brown paper within.

It was beautiful.

He knew at once that it was an ebony wand; the color was so dark, so black, that it seemed to soak up any light that touched it in the dim room. It was so dark that no wood grain showed; it could have been carved from onyx, or from the very night itself. His hand moved forward, seemingly on it's own accord, eager to touch the wand-

"Severus!" His mother's sharp tone of voice made him jump, and he snatched his hand back guiltily as he looked up at her. He saw Ollivander's head lean over the counter and look down at him.

"What do you have there, my boy?" he asked kindly, motioning him to stand. Severus did, and, with an ache, reluctantly surrendered the wand box to the shop keeper.

"My my my, wherever did you find this?" Ollivander asked as he took the box and inspected it. A white box? How curious. He'd never used white boxes, nor had his father, nor had his grandfather before him…

"The wands rolled under the counter, sir, and I found this under there when I picked them up."
"And you rescued it from the darkness, boy?" It was more of a statement than a question, but Severus nodded.

"Mister Ollivander," his mother started up again, "we will come back on another day, we really must-"

The old man held up one hand, silencing any further words from her. He would not let her continue to make her boy's life a nightmare out of her indifference towards the child, or fear of her husband. Ollivander knew, more than anyone, that the wand that chose this boy would either help set him on a path to greatness, or damn him to walk the long and painful road to hell.

Taking a steadying breath, the wandmaker gently reached into the box and picked up the wand, turning it in his fingers as he inspected it.

"Ebony, eleven and three quarters inches, unyielding.." he hefted it lightly in his hand, "with a core of.." He paused, and looked down at the wand in his hand, as if it had just bitten him.

"This wand has a double core," Ollivander announced. He could feel the dual energies residing within the ebony, fighting for dominance, yet acting, cooperating, as one core. He could tell from the impassive and confused stares that the woman and her boy gave him that they failed to see the significance of the fact.

"My own wandmaking records stretch back nearly a hundred years. My father and grandfather's go back an additional three hundred and sixty seven years before they were lost to a fire. This, Mister Snape," he met the boy's eyes, "is no wand that I, my father, nor my grandfather ever made."

Severus stared at the white-haired man and gulped. What did that mean? He felt his gaze pulled back to the wand in the man's hands. For what felt like an eternity to Severus, the man evaluated it, clearly weighing his options and considering, though what he was weighing and considering, the boy did not know.

Ollivander sighed. This could be a very dangerous wand, bonded to the wrong person, he thought. Would this untried, seedling of a boy have the strength to carry it, straight and true, or would the wand bend the little sapling over with its weight?

He was terribly unsure of giving a wand of this power to such a young, beleaguered lad, but it wasn't up to him. This was to be young Mister Snape's wand, he knew. The boy had been destined to find it, after it had lain hidden under the counter, dormant, possibly for several hundreds of years. Ollivander knew the wand would choose him, already had chosen him. No one else had heard the call of this black siren in her dark lair..

Ollivander turned his attention back to the boy, who still waited patiently.

"I think, Mister Snape," he said slowly, "that you ought to evaluate this wand.." He held out the wand, handle first, to the boy.

Severus's heart leapt with joy. Ollivander was going to let him try the ebony wand! Tailed closely behind this was the unhappy thought that this beautiful, mysterious wand would reject him, just as the others all had. High spirits quickly falling, he held out his hand to Mister Ollivander and felt the smooth, polished handle of the wood hit his palm.

A sudden rush of heat flowed through the wand to his fingers, up his arm, then dispersed through his whole body in radiating, tingling waves. He felt his hair blow in an unseen wind. Eyes wide, Severus looked first at his mother, who seemed as dispassionate as always, then to Mister Ollivander, who simultaneously looked triumphant and very haggard.

"Well done, my boy, well done," Ollivander told Severus. "It appears that you have your wand."
Ollivander watched the genuine smile spread across the boy's features, and felt the knot of worry deep in his stomach lessen somewhat. The boy was just given an incredibly powerful wand, and would soon be able to escape his miserable home life, for the safety of Hogwarts.

Still, as the woman and her son left his shop a short while later, Ollivander could not fully shake that sense of foreboding, the one he had only had once before in his career as a wandmaker. It had been the day he'd sold a wand made of yew with a phoenix feather core to a young, orphaned boy…

Author's Note:

Fanart! Here is Snape's wand in it's box at Ollivander's (there are also links in my profile page): www dot thecopperdragon2004 dot deviantart dot com /gallery/#/d4ih9hx