A bit short but here's part the fourth. Enjoy!

*IHST*

The moment the shop bell chimed, the old wand maker knew times were changing.

His business success was based upon a society being too far up their own asses to notice that what he supplied was a handicap at best and a terrible burden at worst. And for all his eccentricities the man knew it. The current Ollivander of Ollivander's Wands belonged to a long line of men and women who hoped for the best and expected the worst. His father before him explained the nature of their trade to him when he'd been just a child.

"Son, you'll eventually be passed a sacred duty."

"Father I hardly think selling wands is sacred-"

"Bite your tongue boy and listen well." Olivander Sr. thwacked his son on the head with a rolled up parchment. "Now then we have always made wands, since our family line began. But do you know why?"

"Uh..."

"I swear boy. Ollivander's are wandmakers by tradition. A tradition handed down through the ages but a duty bestowed upon us by the Great Ones of Old. One many clans who remember the ancient ways. Before the time wands were used."

"B-before? But father our people have always used wands."

"You are finally of age to know the depths of the wizarding world's transgressions."

Oh yes, change was in the air. The cause of such a feeling? And by default his growing migraine?

A very exotically clad young...man(?) and the current Potions Master of Hogwarts. Well the almost naked child was only a small portion of the issue. Most of it rested on the shoulders of Severus Snape.

"Mr. Olivander, if you do not currently have a wand in stock, we will gladly wait for one to be fashioned." The dour looking man began.

"Yes well you'll be waiting until the day the sun turns pink lad." The wandmaker sighed. "It's not a question of making young Lord Bakaret-"

"Potter. This is Lord Harry Potter if anything sir." The sir added on as an afterthought. A frustrated afterthought. "Though too young to be a proper scion of his house."

"..." Breathe in, breathe out. "Young Lord Bakaret a wand. The issue lies in the fact that any wizarding wand he attempts to use will either merely fail or be torn asunder. His magic is...odd." The elderly man motioned to the pile of splinters, ash and a like at the child's bare feet.

"Odd how? He obviously possess a magical core if that god awful shriek and the ability to get any type of reaction is any indication. Surely it can be tamed with a proper wand."

"Professor, a wizarding wand is not compatible with his power. He isn't a squib but the magic he possesses is...chaotic to say the least. Before me stands is a young Lord of Chaos. Not a wizard ."

"Excuse me? Would you gentleman mind terribly not speaking of me as if I am not in the room?" A flat voice spoke, drawing their attention. The subject of discussion stood there with his hands on his hips, glaring.

"Well perhaps you know why your core is as odd as it is. The sooner that mystery is solved the sooner you can be on your way to a proper education." Snape drawled.

"Well, I distinctly remember telling you all that I am NOT a wizard as Mr. Olivander also confirmed. I'm not even HUMAN. From what I found in that musty old library, I would be considered a magical creature. Whatever you dopes did to drag me here has muted my powers and I think the adverse reaction to handling these power sucking twigs would have been much worse otherwise." He turned to inspect a dusty shelf before turning back to them. "I am a Chaos Mage, just as my mother and father are. If you'd bothered to listen to me, I told you this was probably a waste of time. I also showed you what my conduit is but you just stared at me."

"You showed the headmaster a pair of oversized gold keys boy."

"Well, we don't exactly choose what it will be. It's a weapon or set of weapons born of our souls. My mother's is a folding fan. My father's a manacle and chain. Manstein, my cousin who's name you freaked out over, has his rings. Akik has her feathers. Xaphia, his yo-yos."

"How formidable. If being fanned and tickled to death or children's toys were a fear of mine." Snape snorted.

"Underestimating a mage based on their conduit is a terrible idea at best and a death wish at worst." Bakaret returned the glare. "Sir, I apologize for this. My guide and his employer have been rather dense about this whole thing. They don't realize my stay here will not be permanent." With that he stormed back outside. An exasperated Potions Master behind him.

A loud thunk sounded as a wrinkled forehead smacked the counter once he was alone.

"Too true, Great One. But will we survive the rescue party?" He whined into well worn wood. "Dumbledore you old goat. What have you done?!"

*IHST*

Far away that same night, another encounter wasn't going quite as expected either.

The child smelled strange to begin with. This should have been clue number one. Dressed in green leather accented with silver and black swirling patterns; a fine silver cape fluttering behind him. Long white hair swept and braided to the left side of his head flowed down his front in one great pleat. Eyes the color of mercury reflecting the full moon's light. Something projecting a similar glow under his bangs. Couldn't have been much more than starting age for that wizard school. Quite suspicious they'd let a pup stray so far into dangerous territory. Yet instead of looking absolutely terrified at being surrounded by a transformed werewolf pack, he looked...annoyed.

That should have been the big clue.

He spoke, though the beasts in charge of them this night couldn't register the words. All they could comprehend was fresh meat stood a few feet away ripe for the picking. So their alpha pounced, claiming his right to the kill and first in the feeding que.

This is how Fenrir Greyback found himself face down on the forest floor with a mouth full of dirt. Sporting a thick solid silver ring about his neck burning like fire. A small black leather stiletto grinding into the back of his head. Pained howls told him his pack also got new collars. The child spoke again, this time his cultured voice clearly understood.

"Bad dog. Someone needs better training."

*IHST*

Tada. More of Bakaret being a smart ass, another resident of the HP verse reveals they are very much aware of how utterly fucked their world is, Snape still being Snape and a new player appears. Three guesses who it is and the first two don't count n_n

FYI this and Hands Off are occurring concurrently and will at some point bleed together.

TTFN!

Reviews are like hugs! Sirensoundwave out.