Sorry for the insane lag time on this story. Things have gotten more than a bit hectic in my life. But here's the next chapter for Grimoire, and the next chapter for Results should be up next week (hopefully).

Chapter 3: The Wand Chooses The Wizard

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or Nier. HP belongs to JKR, anot sure who Nier belongs to at the moment but it isn't me.

Diagon Alley, Ollivander's

Flitwick held open the door for his charge, who was turning around in slow circles as he entered the shop. The lighting in here was low, moody almost, and seemed to be setting the stage for mystery. The short wizard watched his ward take in everything in the room, looking at all of the various lengths of wood along the walls and on the various counters. Harry's eyes finally settled onto the bell on the counter across from the door.

He knew that there had to be something strange about this bell. It was the recipient of the only light actually shining in the room. There was some filtering in from outside, but the only light source in the room was focused on the golden bell. Nervous for some reason, he tensed as he walked forward across the shadowy floor. A quick glance back to Flitwick showed the man just standing back and smiling slightly, which put the young boy at ease a bit.

The green-eyed boy tapped the bell once, then nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice sounded at his elbow. He did manage to clear the counter and land on the other side – impressive, considering the books and other things that he now was carrying in the backpack.

"My my, a bit jumpy aren't we young man?" The man had appeared from nowhere. The shop had been empty when Harry walked across the floor. He was starting to reach for his blade to defend himself when he saw Flitwick's smile. The spectacled boy straightened up and looked at the man who had just startled him.

He was stooped over from age, putting him near Harry's height, but that was where the similarities ended. The man had only a few strings of wispy white hair left on his head, at least from what the boy could see poking out from under his hat. He did have a monocle on his left eye, the golden chain falling from his eye to a pocket on his vest. The man had an amused smile on his face as he sized Harry up, which faded when his eyes locked onto the scar peaking through the shaggy black hair.

"Oh my, Mr. Potter. It is about that time, isn't it?" Harry blinked in confusion and raised an eyebrow, then looked to Flitwick for an explanation. The short professor shrugged slightly, unsure himself what the old wand-crafter was meaning. "Ten years have already gone by in the blink of an eye. Why, I can remember when your parents came in for their wands, met each other here they did. Well, enough of the past eh my boy? Let's get started, you are here for your wand yes?" Harry was now thoroughly confused, the old man seemed to bounce between topics like a small living ball of green goop. (1) He did notice that the man had pulled a wand from somewhere and was waving it at the various shelves around them, pulling wands off of counters and dragging boxes from somewhere in the back, creating a pile from in front of him next to the bell on the main counter.

"Go on my boy, let's start with this one. Vinewood with a manticore stinger." Grudgingly he took the thin white stick from this strange man's hand – he still hadn't managed to get a word in to ask the man his name, had he? - and gave it a wave. There was a tremor in his arm, and the wand shot out of his grasp and embedded itself into the wall next to Flitwick's head. All three occupants of the room looked at in shock, then down at Harry's arm.

"No, I think not. Alright..." The monocle bobbed as the man sorted through several boxes, moving some a fair distance away from Harry. As the man tried to decide what to test next, Harry seized theit is the opportunity to finally speak.

"I'm jumpy because the room was empty when I came in, yes I'm Harry Potter, what time is it about, can you tell me more about my parents, and what is your name?" He spoke quickly, trying to make sure that he had his two pence out before the man started babbling again. The man paused, a cherry red wand in his hand, then turned back to the young boy and nodded slightly.

"So sorry my boy. I tend to hide myself to get a pre-emptive view of the young men and women entering my shop. As I said, it's been ten years, so you would be coming to get your wand. I unfortunately cannot say any more about your parents, aside from the fact that your mother was quite interested in how to make a wand, or other foci. And my name is Ollivander, owner, proprietor, and wandcrafter for this shop. Now then, try this, cherry wood with hair from a unicorn." Harry held out his hand for the wand – and was startled when the wand refused to fall into it when Ollivander gave it too him. After a few moments of this the wand rolled to the side almost like a water droplet sliding off a peaked roof, and fell to the floor. The older male bent down and scooped it up, looking at it with a raised eyebrow.

"Very curious. The wand chooses the wizard my boy, and these wands are doing far more than any I have ever seen to not choose you." Harry grew worried – did this mean he wouldn't be able to use this magic? That would remove one of the biggest reasons he was going to attend Hogwarts. But the grin on Ollivander's face reassured him a bit. "All the better, it should mean that if you get a wand, it'll be quite powerful. Well then, let's see here. Ah, let's try this. Ash with the feathers of a Grand Raven. A fair bit aligned to dark spells, but I should hope you know that dark does not mean evil." He handed the boy this spell, and both were relieved to see the wand not fly away from him. When Harry waved this wand... the windows became pitch black, as if the sky had gone dark. Flitwick hurriedly stepped outside, and came back in with a strange expression. Ollivander frowned and tried breaking whatever it was that had been done, only to be unable to do so.

Then the black over the windows shattered apart, as if something had broken the glass, and light came back in. The wand in Harry's hand grew hot, and he was forced to drop it as if he had been stung.

"Well now, not that one either, but it was much better than the other results. Alright, I suppose..." He tapped his chin, frowning as he heard something rustling for a moment in the back of his shop. The movement stopped, but he was already on his way back there. Harry watched the old man head through a dark doorway, and turned to Flitwick.
"What was all that Professor?" The short man shook his head.

"I don't know Harry. The sky outside was bright as it had been before, and the windows could be seen through from out there. I have no idea what that was. And as for the issue with the wands, I have never seen the like before." Silence fell as they considered this. Then Ollivander came back, carrying two objects. One was a box, similar to what he had been pulling wands from and putting them back into. The other was a length of wood about one and three quarters meters long, and made from a darker wood. The muscles on the arm holding the staff – there was nothing else to call it, really – were tensed up, as if straining.

"Here lad, try this." Awkwardly Ollivander handed Harry the box, not opening it himself. Harry took the box and opened it, to find a dark wood wand laying on a fine white pillow. The boy lifted the wand and felt a soothing rush of warmth enter his fingers and streak up his arm, a soft pervasive feeling that filled him completely in a few moments. He waved the wand and noticed the tip glow brightly, then a rush of sparks and light shot out, spiraling upwards to form a bird with wings outstretched, beak raised and open. The bird faded, and Harry could see the wide grin on Flitwick's face. Ollivander let out a short gasp, making both turn their gaze to him.

The staff that he had been carrying had wrenched itself out of his grasp and was shooting towards Harry. The boy reacted with the speed that he and Dudley had worked hard to gain, intercepting the wood before it struck him. As his fingers curled around the carved wood, a pleasantly cool sensation rushed over him and settled on his mind. The two feelings, the warmth from the wand and the cool from the staff, somehow blended together. Curious, Harry tapped the ground with the bottom of the staff.

Tendrils of shadow stretched outwards from the staff, curling around Harry's feet, then around Ollivander and Flitwick's. The edges where the wall and floor met, as well as any counters or other objects on the floor, also received a bathing of shadows. Flitwick's gaze was locked onto Harry as the boy's eyebrows shot upwards in shock.

"Oh my. Oh my." This was repeated several times by Ollivander, who was staring at Harry. Finally Filius walked forward to the old wandcrafter and tapped him gently, trying to restart the wizard. Ollivander's monocle fell from his face, which managed to break the old man from his reverie. He turned to the two and frowned for a moment before speaking.

"This is... most peculiar. Uhm. First the wand. The wand is made of holly, with the first ash, wing feather, and tear of a phoenix as the core. Powerful light magic can be channeled through that, most powerful indeed. But.. the strange thing, the truly peculiar thing, is that staff. It is crafted from Rowan wood, and it's fore is... the heart of a Grand Raven, and the claw of a Midnight Phoenix. But for a staff to react in that way... Harry my boy, you are going to change the world." His words were still disjointed and uncertain, as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. He waved vaguely towards the professor and student, then staggered into the back of the shop again. The door closed firmly behind him, and they could hear a latch click into place. Exchanging glances, the two left the shop.

Diagon Alley

"Well this is strange. Most people do not have staves these days my boy, so I'm not sure what to make of it. However, I do know this: Those who do, are powerful witches and wizards, who for one reason or another lost their wand and had to get a replacement. No wand would choose them, but they did bond with staves. But I've not heard of a Midnight Phoenix so I can't tell you what to make of that. Grand Ravens are noble, if somewhat dark, semi-sentient creatures that tend to avoid humans, and most other magical creatures for that matter." Even before Harry could ask a question, Flitwick had already started speaking, his voice slipping a somewhat patient tone, which the young boy presumed was the voice he used for lecturing. The mixed blood man seemed to pause after this, as if thinking, and Harry decided to prompt him.

"And the wand?" The two were now walking down the street, speaking in low tones. Harry was following the professor, as the man seemed to have a destination in mind. When he spoke, the short man blinked twice before fixing his gaze on the boy.

"Ah, yes. The wand is certainly very powerful. In fact, both of them are strange in that they have multiple cores – highly unusual, as each core has to be balanced with the other. Your wand is slightly more common, in that all of the core components came from not only the same kind of creature, but in fact the same creature. And as it was a phoenix, you have the potential to be a powerful Light-bound warrior." Here the older wizard tapped the fingers of his right hand on his left forearm, thinking again. His eyes came up to Harry's and he motioned for the boy to stop.

"Alright. I need some time to think, so the next stop will be Madam Malkin's. We can get your school robes there." When the green-eyed boy saw where Filius turned to go, he blinked twice at how close it was to where they had stopped. But as he looked in through the window as he headed inside he saw something else that made his heartbeat pick up – McGonagall was standing near the window display, looking inwards towards someone inside the shop. Moving quickly, the boy ducked inside.

It was quiet in the clothing shop. There was a figure standing on a small platform, arms uplifted as measuring tapes and rulers dashed to and fro, taking obscure measurements that made no sense to the young boy. He was more than a little tempted to slip back outside and just try to pick up the robes at some other time – this was unusual to a degree that he just wasn't used to. Sure, he could handle magic – Wiess was proof enough that there was more to heaven and earth than many ever dreamed of, but to see magic used for such a ...mundane purpose astounded him.

"Well my boy, what are you waiting for? Come on, get up there next to Miss Granger!" Of course the diminutive professor knew who was in there – he was standing next to McGonagall, who had the bag of books on the ground next to her, her face once more set in a firm line. Harry looked back and forth between the highly amused look on Flitwick's face to the stern Scotswoman's, and knew he had no escape. He trudged over to the Charms and Enchantments Professor and left his staff and backpack with the older wizard. Then with leaden feet he headed to the platform next to the bushy-haired girl that he hadn't expected to see again for several days at least, weeks at worst.

There was a witch on the other side of the platform – Harry had managed to miss her with all of the random objects flying around the figure who was completely obscured on the platform. This woman waved at him with several needles in her mouth and mumbled something as she stared at Hermione's clothes-swaddled figure. Then the witch waved her wand absently at Harry, and a tape measure that had just been hanging in the air suddenly zoomed over to him and wrapped around his waist – the beginning of his own measurement process.

This continued for nearly fifteen minutes – for some reason the single tape measure was being just as thorough on Harry as the approximate dozen that were working on Hermione. The boy still couldn't see anything of Hermione but her hair – which was sticking out at odd angles from under strands of fabric. He wondered just what had happened to the girl to have this happen, when he heard Flitwick ask McGonagall the question that was on his mind. There was amusement in the female professor's voice as she responded.

"She tried copying one of Malkin's spells with her own wand – she certainly is brash and impulsive. Unfortunately for her, it misfired and ended up acting almost like the Rope-Binding Curse on her with random strips of cloth from around this very shop. Malkin is trying to figure out how to undo it." Her voice was more than loud enough to reach the people at the platforms – Harry could see a slight grin on the older witch who was measuring him and trying to help Hermione. Then he heard a muffled sound from under the fabric – apparently the girl was trying to defend himself, which nearly made him laugh aloud.

The tape measure working on the boy suddenly ceased its activities and flew over to a rack on the wall. This left Harry standing up there looking and feeling slightly awkward. Then he saw an opportunity to help – there was a pair of scissors floating near him. He sent a quick look over his shoulder to Flitwick – an almost apologetic look, which made the goblin-descended wizard tilt his head in curiosity, wondering what this precocious boy would try doing next.

He was answered as Harry suddenly moved towards Hermione with swift motions. In a smooth swing of his arm he plucked the scissors from the air, feeling a slight pull as Malkin's magic tried fighting his physical strength, but as spread out as it was the mystic force was no match for the boy's firm grasp. Trying to be as discreet as possible Harry slipped the blade of the scissors under a strip of fabric on Hermione's lower back.

"That won't work dearie, the first thing I tried." Madam Malkin had pulled the pins from her mouth as she saw the black-haired boy move. And sure enough, when Harry tried squeezing them shut, the fabric managed to resist the metal implements quite adriotly. "Cutting charms that normally work on fabric also have no effect. And I'm afraid to try something stronger, for fear that it will hurt her." Harry frowned and began concentrating very, very hard. He needed to try keeping this as hidden as possible, so he moved his body between the teachers and the girl, so they couldn't see what he was doing. Neither could Malkin, who was blocked by Hermione's body.

The two women at the platform heard a low humming – Harry apparently getting down to work. The boy in question was humming a very soft tune under his breath, going with the music rather than with actual words. Hermione felt a strange pressure near her back where the scissors were – somehow cold and hot, yet weighty as well. It confused her greatly – and that confusion spread to everyone in the shop when the fabric wrapped around her suddenly sprang off as if her skin had become toxic to the touch. Harry dropped the scissors and stepped back, ducking his head down to the ground.

Everyone stared at Harry, Hermione turning around to look at him. She blushed at him and stammered words out.

"T-t-thank you. Noone here could figure out how to fix it and I was getting worried." Then she remembered something that completely drove thoughts of being a cloth mummy from her mind. "Hey! Did you see a really rich looking wizard when you were in the bookstore?" Unnoticed behind her McGonagall and Flitwick both choked – the Scotswoman more than the short wizard. Harry merely turned his head and shrugged his shoulders.

"I merely saw you, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, the clerk, and myself." Nevermind that if you were literal enough, he had seen his hand so he had seen the wizard in question – if she was talking about the book gift. "Did this rich wizard do something wrong?" He took a half-step back as the girl shook her head rapidly, making her hair bounce rapidly.

"No no, the opposite! He gave me the books!" She turned to head towards McGonagall to retrieve the book bag to show off her spoils, only for her shoulders to be grabbed by the older witch.

"I'm sorry Miss Granger but with this, you're done here, and it's nearly the time when I told your parents you would be home, so we must be going. Young man, I hope to see you at the Sorting." With that enigmatic statement she turned and guided the girl out of the store.

"Ahem, now that that is done, can we discuss what you want for your robes?" Harry turned around to look at the only remaining witch, who was grinning widely.

"Ahem, now that that is done, can we discuss what you want for your robes?" Harry turned around to look at the only remaining witch, who was grinning widely. He crossed his arms with a grumble and thought for a moment. He cast an eye towards Filius, who merely tilted his head to one side, watching the boy. Realizing that once again the short professor would only interfere if he saw something going on that he thought Harry wasn't ready to handle, the boy turned back to the clotheswitch.

"I'm going to need a set of school robes first off. What's a material that you can work with that will be damage resistant?" Malkin thought for a moment.

"Well, if I had a few hundred galleons we could create you a full set of dragon hide clothing. As it is, for about one hundred galleons, I have enough material to make the over-robe that most students wear, in black-shaded dragonhide." Harry flinched slightly at the exorbitant cost, but Flitwick hadn't said anything, so the witch wasn't trying to gouge him. He bit his lip for a moment before sighing and shaking his head.

"I'll have to come back for that. Uhm, aside from the standard school robes, what about some under-wear, such as trousers, shirts, the like? Maybe a vest?" The witch grinned at this one.

"I actually happen to have the hide from an Ironside dragon, already made into a vest for a boy about your size, with a few charms to ensure that it grows with the wearer. The original purchaser had to default, as the person he was buying it for ended up becoming a squib. That, I could give you for fifty galleons. Any other clothes, the best I could give you would be Acromantula silk robes and clothing, and a pair of outfits made with that, along with the robe, would run another fifty galleons." A quick glance at Flitwick showed that the goblin-born professor wasn't wanting to say anything, so this was still acceptable to him. Harry took a deep breath and then nodded, then paused.

"What about a wizard's hat?" Both of the older spell-users blinked a few times at him. "You know, pointy, floppishly brimmed?"

"Oh my. Madam, I do believe he means something like what Headmaster Dumbledore wears." A distasteful expression crossed the witch's face when Filius spoke up.
"Certainly not in those foolish colors I hope?" Harry quickly shook his head, trying to appease the clothes-witch.

"No ma'am! Just black, like the robes will be." She sighed and nodded slightly.

"An extra five galleons for the hat, but it will be the best I have."

"Thank you ma'am!" Harry bowed to her, doing his best to calm her down from whatever it was that had irritated her so much. She waved her hand at him as Flitwick brought over his backpack. The young boy quickly dug into his bag and started counting out the galleons. As the stack on the desk grew larger and larger, Malkin had to blink several times, before finally sitting down on a stool that she conjured with a heavy sound. Harry looked over at her confusedly.

"I'm sorry dear boy. I'm.. I'm just not used to young students like yourself coming in and actually being able to afford the things that they want. Normally it's the children of arrogant people like Malfoy head who could get such robes. Students who come in with professors normally make grand claims, but then end up having to get the cheapest there is after I talk to the professor escorting them." Harry looked over at Flitwick who simply nodded.

"It's because students who come in with professors are going to be those from non-magical parents isn't it Professor?" At the professor's nod, the young man simply sighed and looked over to Madam Malkin. "Did the girl who was in here try anything like that?" Malkin thought for a moment then shrugged slightly.

"She did, but the things that she ordered are only barely above the standard, and would only have been a few Sickles more than what the school would pay. Unfortunately I know..." She trailed off as Harry laid another Galleon on his stack of them.

"There. Give her what she was asking for. And if she asks..." Harry grinned. "Tell her that the same foreign wizard took care of the extra." She tilted her head as the boy stepped away from the coutner and slung his bag back onto his shoulders, noting with interest the fact that the bag settled into place gently, as if there were a Featherlight charm on it. When he picked up the wand and tucked it up his sleeve then hoisted the staff, her eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "When can I pick these things up madam?"

"In a week's time young lord, in a week's time." Before Harry could ask her what she meant by that statement, the clothes-wtich had scooped upt he pile of Galleons into a bag with a flick of her own wand, and vanished into the back, where row upon row of robes and other articles of attire could be seen. Instead the green-eyed boy looked back to Flitwick, who pointed towards the door.

Outside of the shop, Harry gesture for another privacy bubble. Flitwick guided the boy to an alley between two shops, then cast the charm. As soon as it closed around them Harry launched his question.

"What on earth did she mean by calling me a lord? We never said who I was, and she didn't see the scar like the man in the pub did!" The older wizard sighed and pointed to the staff in Harry's hand. The boy looked at it with curiosity.

"It's that my boy. I told you that most of the time only older, powerful wizards who need to replace their wands can get those. That you have one at your age means that you already hold impressive power. A lord of magic if you will." The bespectacled boy looked distinctly disgruntled at that. He stood silent for a long moment, apparently processing what the professor had pronounced. Eventually he sighed and shook his head.

"You said something about a person who might know more something about Midnight Phoenixes?" Taking that as a cue, Filius dispelled the privacy charm and started them back towards Gringotts.

"I did, good memory Harry."

"Would it happen to be the large man, Hagrid, that we met there?" Harry's green eyes were sweeping back and forth along the alley, taking in all of the sights, still amazed by everything. Something in particular caught his eye though.

"Very astute! As a matter of fact, yes it is. Hagrid is one of the most knowledgeable about magical creatures I have ever met. If anyone knows anything about them, it would be him." Flitwick continued on for a few feet before noticing that his ward had apparently stopped and was staring in one direction intently. "What is it?"

"Mr. Hagrid just went into that shop." Harry lifted his arm and pointed in the direction he was looking. The older wizard followed the outstretched digit to see Eeylop's Emporium. Sure enough, he could discern the bulky frame of the Keeper of the Keys through a window, apparently looking at something.

"Excellent eye Mr. Potter! On to the Emporium then." Without more warning than that, the older wizard set off at a good clip towards the store. The boy looked after him for a moment and then shrugged, before following him at a more sedate pace.

"So, what do you make of all this Wiess?" Harry's voice was low as he strolled past people, trying not to draw their attention. A long moment of silence passed before he was answered.

"It does seem rather strange Harry. Though I am inclined to wonder if this affinity to the dark staff is because of my magic and the fact that you can wield it." No one seemed to notice the voice coming from thin air, or if they did, it wasn't strange enough to warrant a second glance.

"Whether it is or isn't, I am thankful for it. Your Dark magic seems to be highly antagonistic to the magic that they use – I barely charged those scissor blades with power, less than a tenth of what I'd use for a Dark Blast, yet it tore right through the magic that had Granger bound."

"Well, these wizards are unlike anything in my experience. Those I knew used magic greatly similar to my own Dark Magic. It seems I shall not be of much help with your classes." Harry shrugged twice – their signal that it was no longer safe to converse. They had reached the door to the Emporium, and from it he could see the professor talking to the man who's knees he barely came up to. With a deep breath he went inside.

Almost immediately animal sounds assailed him from every side. Cat yowls, owl hoots, snakes hissing, even toad croaks could be made out in the cacophony. The green eyed boy winced and headed towards his escort as hastily as he could. When he reached the two members of Hogwarts' staff, it was Hagrid who spotted him first.

"Well now, speak o' tha devil, 'ere 'e is now. Blimey 'arry, ye've gotten yerself tangled up wit' Midnight Phoenixes?" The boy could only nod. "Well, ye've coom to tha right man! Reckon I know more about them beasties than any other person save Perfessor Dumbledorehimself, great man that he is." Harry blinked at that information and tilted his head.

"Now then. Despite what people think, Midnight Phoenixes aren't evil creatures, not in the "Black" sense. Like normal Phoenixes, they are drawn to 'onourable folk. But they only take to open-minded sorts, who aren't adverse ta dark stuff. They are also right rare birds. Nae even Merlin 'imself could fine one. Last sure sighting was in Atlantis. But their parts do turn up from time to time, to use in potions or wands, or staves. But except for potions, when they do almost no-one can use the things Now then 'arry, pick a pet." This last sentence was said in a completely different tone than the rest of the explanation, completely throwing the young boy off his track. He looked over to Flitwick for an explanation about the sudden topic change.

"Students are allowed to bring a pet with them to school Harry. Owls and cats are the norm, though I do know one family that has a remarkably long-lived rat that they use as a family pet." Amused by the anecdote, the young boy began looking around the store. He fully expected to find nothing as he looked around. None of the kittens on display interested him – he honestly wasn't much of a cat person – and there was no way he'd bring a toad… or a rat.

So he ended up gravitating towards the owls. He passed a tiny fluff ball that was marked as a pygmy owl – it wouldn't be good for much of anything. Next he was forced to avoid a couple of barn owls when one took a snap at him.

"Any advice Wiess?" It was meant as a joke, and the ancient grimoire didn't respond. However, Harry did notice that a snow white owl with black feathers down its left wing had suddenly perked up and was now hopping towards him. When it reached the edge of the cage it peered at him with one eye.

"Better watch out kid. We're not sure what she is, but we do know she's a biter. Won't let anyone touch her." The tone was pleasant as a young woman stepped up to a nearby counter, wearing a full-length robe that had a crest with 'Emporium' on it. The boy nodded his thanks to her but turned his gaze back towards the owl, fascinated by her.

He was surprised to see that the owl had spread her wings. For a moment he thought he saw a shimmer of red in the black feathers, but dismissed it as his imagination. Slowly the owl's wings settled back down.

"Do you want to get out of here?" Harry's voice was low. The owl bobbed her head once, definitively. "Alright, does Hedwig work." There was hesitation, but another bob. Something to ponder in the future. He opened the cage slowly. "No biting or I'll blast you." This time he could have sworn the bird's pupils dilated, but she came out and settled on his outstretched arm. Harry turnd around and headed towards the coutner, where he could see Hagrid and Flitwick talking. This time the smaller man saw him first.

The wizard tapped the larger man on the leg and gestured for him to turn around. The impressively large man obliged, then beamed down at the bird on his arm. He didn't try to stroke her, apparently noticing that when his arm came up she raised her wings up and opened her beak enough to let out a menacing hoot.

"Good choice 'arry! She's a beaut, and owls are right bloody useful. Can carry mail and whatnot." Hagrid turned to the girl, who had moved over to where they were, though she remained on the other side of the counter. "Lass, does this bird have the post-owl enchantments?"

"She does, plus a few others that she had when we got her. We were able to scan her enough to notice that. They do seem to be benign though, but what they do no one is quite sure of." Hedwig let out a self-satisfied hoot, as if she had something to do with the spells woven on her being herself. Harry raised an eyebrow at the bird as Hagrid pulled money out, which made the boy blink in shock.

"Mr. Hagrid, no! I have enough money to pay my own way!"

"I"ll not have any o' that 'arry. This is a birthday present fer yeh, since I'm not likely to see ye on it and I was a friend of yer family. Take good care o' 'er and make sure ta come visit me when we're at 'ogwarts and we'll consider it even." He grinned down at the green-eyed boy then handed the clerk the money. The girl put it into a register, then headed over to another cage that was smaller and picked it up and brought it over to Harry.

"She's your problem now. This is the standard carrying cage we give to all students, and it has a feed tray and water dish inside. Mr. Hagrid here has bought you a month's worth of food, and it's in a charmed container attached to the bottom of the cage to automatically dispense when you set it to." The girl turned the cage over and showed Harry the container for the food, and how to set when and how much it would dispense, and how to refill it. Harry accepted the cage, then looked at Hedwig, who stared back at him with a steady gaze.

After a moment of this impasse, Harry shrugged his shoulder and lowered the cage without trying to get his new owl to go inside of it. She gave a soft purr and shuffled her feathers and tightened her grip on his shoulder. Harry and Flitwick headed outside, saying goodbye to Hagrid, who was still inside the Emporium looking at other animals.

"Is there anything else we need to do professor?" Flitwick seemed to pause in thought at this. A few moments passed before he nodded.

"There are some other mundanities that we need to purchase, a cauldron, some supplies, things like that. Shouldn't take too long though my boy." The two set off down the Alley's main street, heading to a few supply stores.

Number 4 Privet Drive

Harry closed the door behind him after saying goodbye to the professor and leaned against it. From where she was sitting on top of her cage, Hedwig hooted at him softly. Her cage was on a precarious balance of objects – several oddly shaped packages, a book bag, some other 'shopping' bags that had been charmed to look like clothestore' bags by Flitwick. All of these were sitting inside a cauldron – no real way to disguise that, it was pretty apparent what it was. Thankfully Flitwick had kept a Notice-me-not charm on it until they arrived at Harry's home.

The young boy cleaned his glasses and picked up his backpack, which contained all of his remaining change from the two hundred galleons that he had taken out of his vault, and of course, Wiess. He pushed the collection of objects into the cupboard under the stairs, not taking a second to glance inside as he snatched Hedwig's cage off of the top then closed the door quite firmly. He looked up to the owl, who was now gripping the rail.

"Come on upstairs girl, I need to introduce you to my aunt and cousin." She churred at him then swiveled her head to watch him as he went around the bottom of the stairs and started walking up. When he was near where she was she hopped from the banister to his shoulder, giving one flap to steady herself.

His aunt… wasn't in her room when he knocked on it. He frowned at that – he would have thought that Aunt Petunia would be here when he got back to talk to him about his day. But as he turned from the door her saw Dudley poke his head out from his room.

"Mum got called in to work, apparently they had some kind of emergency that she needed to handle. She said she didn't know when she'd be back, so not to wait up. Now that I've given the message, can you tell me what's with the ruddy big bird on your shoulder?" Harry gave a slight grin to his cousin.

"Dud, this is Hedwig, Hedwig, Dud, aka Dudley. I wouldn't insult her Dud, just a warning, since she is apparently a biter, and is probably smarter than Polkiss." Dudley snorted in response to his brother's comment.

"Harry, I've cleaned stuff from the bottom of my shoes that is smarter than Polkiss. Seriously, he can't understand anything about why I want to learn martial arts, he just gives me a confused look every time I start talking in bigger words than 'see-stuff-beat'. I know, I actually checked. Anyway, I've got some schoolwork to get done, I'll talk to you later." He ducked back into his room and closed the door, and soon afterward Harry could hear some music – his cousin had an aggravating habit of listening to random songs whenever he was studying or working. It drove Harry up the wall whenever they tried studying together.

He shrugged, not moving Hedwig in the least somehow, then headed into his own room. When he opened his bag and Wiess floated up and out, Hedwig gave a triumphant hoot. Both book and boy turned to look at the owl – who was now flying through the air. They watched her circle around the room a few times – before landing on Wiess, who dipped low as the bird settled on him.

"What the devil bird? Get off of me this instant! I am Grimoire Wiesss, and I am about to make you a roast turk-OW!" Hedwig had sunk her talons into Wiess' cover, one talon actually pressing into the ancient tome's face. As Harry watched this in shock, he could swear that his new pet gave a satisfied and amused hoot, before looking up at him with one eye. In that gaze, he could swear he saw intelligence to match his own – or beat it.

"Uhm… Wiess?"

"What is it? Ak- Get this infernal bird off of me this instant before she decides to relieve herself on me!" The book tried shaking around rapidly, in an attempt to rid himself of his unwanted passenger, but the bird just hooted in a way that Harry would have mistaken for chuckling, and hung on without a problem.

"Uhm, I think she knows you." The book froze near the ceiling – he was now hanging upside down, and Hedwig was hanging from him, her wings open. The bird started flapping her wings rapidly, sending them racing towards the ground. At the last moment the uncannily intelligent avian flipped around and let go – throwing Wiess face first into the ground. That done, Hedwig settled onto the back of Harry's desk chair, still hooting amusedly.

"What… do you mean? How on earth could some fiendish bird kno- HARRY! She's tainted by Shade!" Wiess had floated back up from the ground, the face embossed on his front somehow looking irritated. But as it said those last words, Harry looked at Hedwig in shock, and Hedwig… was staring at Wiess with amusement dancing in her too-intelligent eyes.

Until Next time!