Author's Note: I've got my sister beta-ing for me, so hopefully it will be ten trillion times better. So here's the third chapter, enjoy~


Quite a bit of mail flew in the kitchen window the next morning at breakfast. The Daily Prophet had a report on several attacks by Death Eaters across Britain. There was no word on John or the witch who'd gone back to help him, only an envelope containing the keys to Sam and Dean's Gringott's Vaults. He didn't say it, but Dean knew Sam took this as confirmation that he was gone. Dean did too. Despite that, Dean was glad to see his brother still getting excited as they were preparing to depart for Diagon Alley.

As they were dressing, Sam pulled out a small wrapped package from his trunk and approached his brother silently. Dean raised an eyebrow and was about to ask what it was when Sam chimed in.

"This came in the mail one day when Dad was out," he explained, his eyes focused on it. "It said it was for him, but I forgot to give it to him. I think… Maybe it should be yours since…" He trailed off after that and simply handed the package over to Dean.

The older brother opened it with fervour, dropping the wrapping paper around the necklace he was now holding to the floor. The pendant was a strange looking mask, made presumably of gold, and dangled from a simple leather chord.

"You sure?" Dean asked, only quickly glancing away from the object. Sam just nodded, not wanting to speak what was on his mind. "Thanks, Sam. I… I love it."

Sam smiled, and it was a welcome expression to see on his brother's face. Dean quickly put the necklace around his neck and told Sam to hurry and get dressed. They had a long drive ahead of them.

"You all got your lists?" Professor Singer questioned the three boys as they descended the stairs.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "Sammy's using my textbooks from last year."

Dean was glad now that he'd taken good care of his textbooks. They needed to be careful with whatever money they had left. Who knew what they would do once they ran out.

The books Dean and Cas needed for their second year were easy enough to find in Flourish and Blotts, and Professor Singer took them all back to the car with Castiel while Sam and Dean went to get the rest of the younger Brother's supplies.

Dean kept an eye out for Gabriel but never caught sight of him. As the brothers passed the Quidditch shop, he gave it a longing look. He's wanted to try out for the Quidditch team this year, but there was no way he wanted to use one of the school's brooms. He knew they were generally good for nothing. He knew he could afford one, but it was another case of not knowing where their money would come from once they'd spent what they had. It wasn't in Dean's personality to be so responsible, but he had to look out for Sam.

It was getting difficult for the two boys to carry all their supplies by the time they reached Ollivander's. The shop was eerily empty as always, if you didn't count wands stacked high on every shelf and against every wall. Dean just thought it strange how there never seemed to be more than one customer at once.

The famed wandmaker seemed to be waiting for them when they walked through the door. Looming behind the counter, Dean thought it seemed like he hadn't moved an inch since the last time he'd seen him.

"I was wondering if I'd see you boys today," he told them, his voice cracked with age – more so than it had been the previous year. It was the only thing that had seemed to change. "I'm sorry to hear about what happened."

Over the day, they'd discovered that, despite the Prophet not reporting it, everyone seemed to be aware of John's disappearance, so Ollivander's words didn't surprise them in the slightest. John was well known, after all.

Dean simply gave a grim smile and they spoke no more of it.

The first wand Sam tried, one make of vine and Unicorn hair, resulted in a good chunk of boxes shooting off a shelf in the back. Ollivander replaced it with a Cedar and Phoenix Feather, but it only started a fire that took a good stomping to snuff out. Sam apologized profusely, bright red in the face. The old wizard assured him worse had happened in the past.

The younger of the Winchesters took nearly twice as long to find his wand compared to his brother. Each wand he tried ended with similarly disastrous results. Dean could tell Sam was getting upset by the look on his face.

Ollivander had wandered far into the back, muttering to himself. When he returned with another wand box, he had a look of concern on his wrinkled face. Dean assumed it was because he'd been having so much trouble finding the right wand.

"Dragon core, like your brother's," Ollivander explained. "Yew, though. 11 and a half inches, nice and pliant."

Sam took the wand nervously, taking a hesitant moment before giving it a curt wave. With a bright glow, all the damage caused by the other wands instantly repaired itself; misplaced wand boxes found their place on the shelves once more and a strong blast of wind seemed to encompass only Sam. The whole place seemed cleaner than it had been when they'd walked in, too. The boys were grinning, but Dean noticed Ollivander looked even more troubled.

They paid for the wand and Sam took off to find Cas and Bobby. Dean went to follow him, but a firm hand kept him in place. He looked over his shoulder, eyes settling on the aged wandmaker.

"Mr. Ollivander?" Dean prompted, confusion in his eyes.

"That wand has a twin, Dean," Ollivander replied, looking at the door Sam had just run out of. There was a tense pause before the aged wizard leaned in to speak quietly in the Winchester's ear. "You watch that boy. One day you may need to stop him. Do whatever it takes to save him from himself."

With that, he turned and vanished into the maze of the back of his shop.

"W-wait!" Dean called after him. "Who has the other wand?"

The man didn't reappear, but his voice sounded clearly from the back.

"A very dark man. One of the darkest, most twisted wizards of our era."


"What took you so long?" Sam asked, waiting a few metres from the door for his brother. He'd stopped when he'd noticed his brother wasn't with him.

Dean feigned an amused grin, poking his brother in the chest as he caught up. "Just asking why you were so useless finding your wand."

Sam pouted and the two brothers walked off down the street. They were nearing the exit to the alley when a thought struck Dean.

Eeylop's Owl Emporium stood to his left, and Sam's talk of getting his own owl came back to him.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean called out to his brother, a few steps ahead of him. "C'mere."

Sam's alarmed protests as he was dragged into the shop were ignored by his older brother. The owls were expensive, but Dean figured the money saved from reusing his old textbooks would account for this pretty well.

Looking down at his wide-eyed brother, he grinned brightly. "Which one do you want?"

Sam didn't take any more convincing, and he bolted off through the shop, looking at the loud animals set around the shop. Dean waited by the door, watching the younger Winchester.

This is Sam we're talking about, he thought to himself, frowning. There's not a spot of darkness in him…

The excitable boy had stopped in front of a particular cage, beaming at a snowy owl that was squawking back at him. Sam was waving Dean over a moment later, and the older Winchester knew he'd found the one he wanted.

"What are you gonna name it?"

"Well it's a girl…"

"How can you tell?" Dean questioned, wondering when his brother developed the ability to tell the gender of birds.

Sam gave Dean an exasperated look and pointed to the sign underneath the bird's cage. Snowy Owl, female.

Dean laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh… Right."

"I was thinking maybe Zola, like Emile Zola," Sam mused, wiggling his finger through the bars of the cage. "He was a French author—"

"Dude, no," Dean sighed. "No history lesson. And she should have a sexy name… Like Valkyrie or something."

Sam frowned, pondering his brother's suggestion. "That wouldn't be so bad…"

"Well we can figure it out on the way back. Let's get her."

Sam was bursting with excitement by the time they got back to the car. He couldn't stop going on about his wand and owl to Cas and Professor Singer. Dean decided to keep what Ollivander told him to himself. The mood in the car ride back was much brighter than it had been on the way there, and Dean wasn't too enthused to ruin it.

Sam kept playing with his wand, and Dean couldn't help but regard it with anxious glares. Luckily no one noticed.

The next morning was a rush to get to the station. Shoving everything into the rusty, bewitched Chevelle wasn't as tough as Dean figured it would be. The trunk was deceptively big, and left him wandering if it was perhaps enchanted.

Something else Dean made envious note of was a sleek black broom with shining chrome details and "'67 Impala" carved neatly into the wood near one end. He could've sworn he remembered his dad talking about having a broom like that.

Traffic was bad and rain was bucketing down, making the drive to the station that much more difficult. By the time they arrived, barely a minute was left to board the train. Tearing through the luckily quiet station, Sam and Bobby ran through to the platform immediately. Dean and Cas were a bit further behind, their things having been at the bottom of the car's trunk.

"Come on, Cas!" Dean called after him. "We gotta make it!"

As Cas was running through, he glanced back just in time to see a man in a dark cloak swoop in behind Dean. He tried to skid to a halt and warn his friend, but his momentum had already carried him through the barrier before he could say anything. Dean's trolley followed him through soon after but the boy who'd been pushing it didn't come though.

Dean was gone.