My apologies for the update gap. Life seems to be falling to pieces all around me.
Regardless, here is Chapter 2.
About a Boy – Chapter 2
Snape walked stiffly beside Lucius, cautiously watching Harry run ahead with Draco. Occasionally, the raven-haired boy looked back for reassurance, and Snape gave him a firm nod each time, to which the boy would run forward with a little more enthusiasm, his head held a little higher.
"You're doing a good job with him, Severus," Lucius remarked as they watched the two boys run up to the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Draco was demonstrating how to ride a broom, swooping around on the sidewalk to Harry's delight and amusement.
Quick to change the subject, Snape smirked and offered, "Draco looks like he's having a field day."
"Yes, well, I believe he's in shock. It's not every day you get to meet the celebrity you've heard stories of since you were in diapers," Lucius replied, chuckling. "Perhaps it will keep him from being despised for the Malfoy name."
Snape scowled. "Harry is not our new celebrity. He is merely a boy who would have been through too much already if he had only defeated the Dark Lord, not to mention the events that occurred at his relatives' home."
"I know. I know." Lucius raised his hands in an act of innocence. "Speaking of which, I'll have to talk to Draco about everything before school begins."
"Thank you," Snape murmured in a low voice, and the two men moved to join the boys as they ran inside the store.
oOoOo
"And the Keeper's got to be able to move really fast, so he can get to the Quaffle, you know. And he wears all these pads and stuff 'cause he reflects – no deflects – it off his chest and head like pow, pow, pow!" Draco mimed using his body to intercept shots.
"Like a soccer goalie!" Harry remarked as he picked up a pair of burgundy padded gloves.
"What's soccer?" Draco asked, his face alight with genuine interest.
Harry attempted to explain the sport before his attention was caught by a small, fluttering flash of gold. He whipped his hand out and closed his thin fingers around a tiny, gold ball with wings.
"What's this?"
Draco turned towards him. "Oh, that's the Snitch. It flies around the pitch super-fast, and the Seeker tries to catch it. Catching the Snitch ends the game and awards the team whose Seeker caught it 150 points. Father says I'll be a Seeker, but based on your ability to catch that Snitch, I'll reckon you'll make a good one too."
Harry smiled in return, but seriously doubted it. He had never been good at anything in his life. Quidditch was surely not going to be any different.
The two boys moved on out of the shop, crossing the alley to be fitted for robes, before standing outside the Apothecary beneath a wooden sign shaped like a cauldron; it swung silently in the light breeze. They waited impatiently for Lucius and Snape, who were certainly taking their sweet time in joining the boys.
Draco was nearly bouncing as they entered, crossing beneath the sign.
"Do not touch anything," Snape drawled, before leading them inside.
The two adults went on to purchase the necessary ingredients while Harry and Draco excitedly examined the contents of each item in the shop, showing off their particularly bizarre or exciting findings to each other with whispers and muffled snickers.
"That's enough, boys," Snape interrupted, already holding open the door. They scampered into the street, unable to hide their smiles when the man added, "Come along. It is time to get your wands."
Harry fell back to his father's side as they walked toward Ollivander's.
"Will it hurt?" he whispered quietly into the Potions Master's cloak.
Snape's head snapped down to peer at the young boy. "It most certainly will not. Mr. Ollivander will hand you a variety of wands to wave and you will find the one that suits you best."
As they entered the shop, Harry – slightly reassured – asked, "Do I get to choose my wand?"
"The wand chooses the wizard, young man," came an eerie voice from behind them. Harry turned around defensively and found that the voice belonged to an aged man with piercing silver eyes. They were cold and appraising, and Harry found himself fighting down an involuntary shiver.
"I suppose that answer suffices," Snape sighed, stepping back with Lucius to leave the two boys in the center of the room with Mr. Ollivander.
The old man looked carefully at Draco. "Mr. Malfoy, I presume, and" – his cold gaze fell on Harry – "ah – Mr. Potter. I wondered when I might be seeing you. I remember when your parents came by for the first time. Your mother had such light in her eyes. You have her eyes, of course, but yet the fire appears to have gone out. Curious. Curious indeed."
Whereas Harry gazed defiantly back at the old man, Snape stiffened considerably. Ollivander glanced up.
"Ah. Severus Snape. Ebony with a core of dragon heartstring, twelve and a half inches, unyielding. Best for combative and ambitious magic. I expect it still works well for you?" His appraising eyes swept up and down Snape's striking figure.
"Of course," Snape answered shortly.
"Of course. Of course," echoed the old man. "Yes, I remember the day you walked in that door with Lily Evans. Willow, ten and one quarter inches – swishy and particularly good for Charms."
"And what wand did my father use? Mr. Ollivander?" Harry asked excitedly.
"Mahogany," Ollivander answered. "Eleven inches exactly. He was particularly proficient in Transfiguration, and his wand aided him there as well."
There was a slight pause in the room before Ollivander turned and began sifting through rows and rows of shelves piled high with thin cardboard boxes. He returned with one cradled between his spidery fingers and stopped in front of Draco.
"Yes, Mr. Malfoy, I remember your parents as well." He glanced up to where Lucius was standing back against the front wall. "Cherry twelve and three quarter inches. Pliable with a core of unicorn hair. A wand with a bit of power behind it. And Narcissa, of course – oak and dragon heartstring, ten inches exactly.
"Now, Mr. Malfoy," – he turned back towards Draco and held out the wand he had been holding – "I believe we will begin with you." As Draco took the wand, he added, "Beech, twelve inches. Whippy."
Draco waved it slightly. When nothing happened, he gave a little sigh and glanced sideways at Harry, who smiled encouragingly back.
Ollivander snatched away the beech wand and handed Draco a new one.
"Dogwood, ten and three-quarter inches, rather bendy."
Once again, nothing happened, and Draco quickly handed the wand back before Ollivander could forcibly remove it from his hands.
"How about ebony, nine and a half inches, particularly flexible?" After a moment, "No, perhaps not."
As Ollivander disappeared back within the dark-wooded shelves, Draco turned to Harry.
"What's supposed to be happening?" Harry whispered.
Draco shrugged nonchalantly. "He's looking for a wand that chooses me, I guess. There'll be like sparks and stuff – that's how we'll know."
Ollivander returned with a wand already outstretched. Draco took it and waved it confidently, and gold sparks flew from the tip, nearly colliding with Ollivander himself, who jumped out of the way just in time but came up with a somewhat misty smile.
"Fantastic," he murmured, and began wrapping the box in brown paper. "Hawthorn and unicorn hair, ten inches. Considerably springy. An excellent wand, Mr. Malfoy. It will serve you well."
Draco beamed and took the paper-wrapped parcel happily, stepping back to let Harry have his turn.
Harry stepped forward quietly, looking back at Snape for reassurance before reaching out to take his first wand.
"Maple and dragon heartstring. Eight and a half inches."
Harry stood there with wand in hand, feeling rather foolish and not quite knowing what to do.
After a moment, Ollivander cut in, "On with it, boy. Give it a wave."
Harry jumped into action instinctively at the title and waved the wand forcefully. He silently handed the wand back, keeping his eyes low as he accepted the second wand.
"Blackthorn, eleven and three-quarter inches, unyielding."
Harry waved the wand easily, watching for sparks. None came, and he quickly found the wand taken from his hand.
"No? Perhaps 'unyielding' doesn't quite fit you, although" – he handed Harry another dark-wooded wand – "no, not that one either."
He continued through a long line of wands of various woods, lengths, and flexibilities. Each box stacked upon the spindly chair in the corner was another weight in Harry's heart, reminding him that maybe, in fact, he was not cut out to be a wizard, regardless of what everyone told him. Even the wands didn't like him.
Mr. Ollivander, on the other hand, seemed to grow more and more excited with each box balanced on the pile.
"No worries, Mr. Potter," he bit out excitedly. "We'll soon find a wand that fits you. Try this – walnut, eleven inches, nice and rigid – no, I thought not." He threw the box toward the already-teetering pile, and several slid off the chair with a clatter.
Ollivander grew uncharacteristically quiet as he pulled one long box from the shelf.
"Perhaps – " He trailed off as he set the wand in a curious Harry's hand. Harry inspected the wand subtly, but found no obvious abnormalities with it. "Holly and phoenix feather – not a combination you get every day – eleven and a half inches. Reasonably supple."
Harry felt a smile flutter onto his face at the warmth that was beginning to creep up his arm. This was the one. He knew it.
He waved the holly wand slightly, and felt immensely overjoyed and relieved as the telltale sparks shot from the end of his wand.
Ollivander merely murmured, "Curious, how very curious," before taking the wand from Harry's hand and beginning to package it up.
"Excuse me, sir?" Harry cut in quietly, looking at the old wandmaker in interest. "What is so curious about my wand?" He glanced back and saw the two Malfoys and Snape smiling at him. Snape moved forward to pay for the wand, taking the package from Ollivander, who gazed after it as Snape shrunk it and placed it in his cloak pocket.
"Curious that such a wand should choose you," Ollivander replied, still staring at Snape's pocket. "The phoenix whose feather is contained in the core of your wand only produced two feathers. The other I sold long ago, to a boy who you remind me much of yourself."
"What boy?"
"The brother of your wand – the wand with which yours shares a core – is not one I am happy to have sold. Yew. Thirteen and a quarter inches. And it unfortunately fell into the hands of the man who gave you that scar, Mr. Potter."
Harry's hand flew to his forehead, feeling the slightly-raised outline of the lightning bolt-shaped scar there. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Snape stiffen abruptly, his smile frozen on his face.
"I do not believe that is a story for such a time or place," Snape cut in, his voice as cold as the winter wind. "We will be leaving now. Thank you for your time, Mr. Ollivander." The Potions Master ushered them all out the door after his words, keeping a firm hand on Harry's shoulder.
Harry looked up to ask a question, but Snape stopped him before he got the chance.
"Now is not the time for questions, Mr. Potter."
Harry looked at his feet and walked quietly down the street beside Draco until they reached Eeylops Owl Emporium, where a symphony of squawking fell upon his ears.
"What is this?" he cried, raising his hands to his ears. He let them fall back to his side as they entered – it was much quieter.
"You'll need a pet this year, Mr. Potter. First years are allowed an owl, a cat, or a toad. Toads are far too easy to lose, and I do not have a fancy for cats, so perhaps you should get an owl. Choose wisely," Snape instructed.
Harry inspected the birds in each cage with interest. Before today, he had never seen a real owl, much less been this close to one – and now he was going to own one. He couldn't keep the grin off his face. Draco gave his opinion on each one, informing Harry that he already had his own bird back at Malfoy Manor.
Harry figured Draco and his father must be very rich to have a manor named after them. They weren't nearly as snobbish as the rich people Uncle Vernon associated with, and for that he was grateful, but still Rich people always had ways of getting what they wanted. They couldn't be trusted. But then again, people couldn't be trusted.
Creeping between each cage so as not to be the cause of any more screeching, Harry set his eyes on him. He was a tawny owl with a white face, piercing yellow eyes, and feathers smooth as silk. And Harry had to have him.
He tugged lightly on Snape's cloak.
"Sir?"
Snape turned quickly from his conversation with Draco's father. "Yes?" he prompted.
Harry nodded toward the owl.
"Is that the one you want? Are you sure?" Snape looked into the cage before looking back down at Harry. "Very well," he added as Harry nodded vigorously.
oOoOo
"Owls are a bit boring if you want something for good company, but they're real useful," Draco was explaining as the group headed back toward the Leaky Cauldron for lunch and their departure. "They'll take your letters all over the world for you, but they get real nippy sometimes. See, I have a scar here." He held out his right hand, where a silvery scar stood out against the pale skin of his pointer finger. "Mother said she could heal it, set it right back to how it was, but I don't really mind much. Besides, who else can say their owl nearly took off part of their finger?" Draco grinned childishly at the idea and peered down at the first knuckle of his finger again, running his thumb over the scar there.
Harry shifted the owl cage into his right hand and held up his left for inspection. "I probably have one to match." He spotted the thin line that curved across the back of his left thumb. "Yeah, right here. Uncle – my uncle, he had a party for a few work friends. Someone dropped a beer, and it fell to me to clean it up. It sliced my finger right up."
Of course, that wasn't exactly true, but most aspects of his home life were meant to be kept hidden. Fragmented snapshots of broken glass and blood swept across his vision, of deep cuts and Uncle Vernon's taunting voice cackling, 'Let's see if freaks bleed'.
Harry quickly shook his head to be rid of the memory before he began to hyperventilate. He found Draco inspecting the scar, skimming over the many others – for which Harry was very grateful.
"Beer?" Draco asked in confusion, releasing Harry's hand. "Like butterbeer?"
"What's butterbeer?"
"Only the best thing ever!" Draco crowed, before turning to call to Lucius, "Father, Harry's never had butterbeer! Can we get some? Please? Please? I promise I'll be good! I'll even help Dobby make dinner! Please?"
"That won't be necessary," Lucius chuckled. "Come along, Harry. The little demon beside you won't rest until he's gotten his way."
They all settled down at a booth in the back corner of the Leaky Cauldron. Tom the bartender bustled over with their drinks and Draco all but poured the frothy gold liquid down Harry's throat. Regardless, Harry quickly found himself drinking more deeply as the butterscotch-flavored liquid spread warmth from his stomach to the very tips of his toes.
He grinned. "It's brilliant!"
"So, Mr. Potter," Snape began, clearing his throat quietly, "have you decided what you will be naming your owl?"
Harry glanced down from the table to where the tawny owl sat with his head tucked under its wing. In fact, it had been something that Harry had been giving quite a bit of thought to on the way over, and he reckoned he had finally reached a conclusion.
"Well, I don't really want him to have some common name like Frank or Louis, so I was really thinking about it on the way here. I think I've decided on a name: Anthony. I know it's a bit of a common name as well, but he's the –"
"The patron saint of lost things," Snape finished, and Harry nodded, falling silent for a moment. "Very fitting, Mr. Potter."
"Because there's a lot of things that are lost about me," Harry concluded.
And there were. He had lost his family, his home, and his childhood. He had lost every friend and everything he had ever cared about. And above all, he had lost the most important thing: himself.
But then again, he had found Snape and maybe, just maybe, he was starting to find pieces of himself again.
Want to let me know what you thought? :)
