Whether you're celebrating a holiday today or not, I thought a new chapter would be a nice treat for everyone on this fine Sunday morning (well, morning for me anyway).
This chapter is nearly twice as long as earlier chapters. I hope you don't mind...
Please enjoy and have a wonderful day!
MetamorphmagusLupin
Books, Quills, Parchment and Griffins
Zoe awoke very early the next day. Despite all of her trying, she just couldn't sleep any longer and she was growing restless lying in bed waiting for the sun to rise and her exciting day to begin. She therefore rose quietly and tiptoed down the stairs to take a shower.
When she returned to her room to slowly dress, the first bit of bright sunlight had just started to make its way over the treetops across the river and into her bedroom window. Zoe could already tell it was going to be a beautiful, but humid day. She therefore chose an airy, knee-length, patterned skirt and a light-blue shirt to wear before throwing a plain, gray wizard's robe over the ensemble, allowing it to flap open. She slipped into a pair of white sandals and once more descended the stairs as quietly as she could.
When she entered the kitchen two floors below, however, she found her father already sitting at the table sipping from a coffee mug and reading The Daily Prophet. He was also freshly showered and Zoe smirked when she saw him in his normal black frock coat and trousers. She couldn't understand how he didn't keel over with heat exhaustion in those clothes in the middle of the summer.
He lowered the newspaper and looked up at his daughter standing in the doorway. He picked his wand up off the table and with one wave in her direction, Zoe felt her damp hair dry instantly. She grinned at her father and walked to the table to sit down.
"Thanks," she said, grabbing for a piece of dry toast. "I can't wait to learn that one."
Her father nodded slightly in acknowledgement and went back to his newspaper. Zoe nibbled on her toast and fidgeted, tapping her feet on the ground. After a few moments, her father put down his newspaper once more.
"Must you begin every day by irritating me?" he asked, looking down at her restless feet. "Stop fidgeting so."
Zoe stopped immediately. "Sorry. I'm just…excited, I guess."
"I see," her father responded. "Although, I surmised as much by your pre-dawn shower."
Zoe flushed. "I tried to be quiet."
They sat silently for a little while as her father sipped his coffee and Zoe dug into the porridge Ollie set before her. When she had eaten her fill, she pushed the bowl away and swiveled in her chair in order to face her father fully.
"May we go to Diagon Alley now?" she asked apprehensively.
Her father turned his black eyes on her. "No. I have some brewing to do first."
Zoe's shoulders sagged and she couldn't help the moan that escaped her lips at his words. "Do you have to?"
Her father immediately frowned, shooting her a warning glance; he wouldn't tolerate the whining and insolence. Zoe averted her eyes from his reproachful gaze and sat back in her chair, pouting. When her father spoke, his tone was much kinder than she expected it to be.
"The shops in Diagon Alley will not yet be open, Zoe. You will only have to wait a few hours."
Zoe nodded, but she didn't look back up to her father. She didn't want to wait any longer.
It was clear that Zoe preferred to sulk rather than have a conversation over breakfast, therefore Severus stood from his chair to make his way toward the cellar. He opened the door leading down into his potions laboratory and glanced back to his daughter still moping in her chair at the kitchen table.
No doubt, she was laboring under the impression that he was keeping her from starting her exciting day now, but he could hardly control when the shop owners opened their doors. Shaking his head, he began his descent into the cellar. He understood her excitement—more than she would ever imagine—but she would need to be patient.
Nearing lunchtime, Zoe looked up from the book she had been reading in the enormous papasan chair in her bedroom at the sound of boots slowly climbing the stairs. As her father came up into her room, she scowled sourly at him. He narrowed his eyes and frowned back.
"That doesn't even vaguely resemble the face of a girl fresh off a lengthy punishment and wanting to go into the city today." He turned away as if to go back down the stairs. "Perhaps I'll just go and brew another potion to give you adequate time to adjust your attitude."
"Wait!" Her father turned back to her and crossed his arms over his chest, waiting.
Zoe looked away and took a deep breath. She was certain he would follow through with his threat if she didn't comply. He may even decide to have Ollie gather Zoe's supplies if he thought she was being too childish for a public outing. Calming her ire, she turned back to face her father.
"I'll be good, I swear."
"Splendid," he stated dully, moving to the side and gesturing for her to come along then.
Zoe rose and made her way to the stairs, her father following in her wake.
"How are we getting there?" she asked.
"Would you care for a spot of lunch in The Leaky Cauldron first?"
Zoe spun around and stopped in the corridor on the first floor. She stared up at her father, perplexed. He was normally so frugal with his money. Zoe was surprised that on a day when he would most likely be dropping dozens of Galleons to prepare her for school, that he would also allow them to eat at the pub.
"Really?" she asked.
He looked back at her with an expression that clearly stated that if he hadn't meant it, he wouldn't have asked.
"Of course! That would be brilliant!"
Her father nodded and resumed his path towards the next stairwell.
"We shall travel by Floo, then, and enter the Alley from the pub," he said.
Much to her father's chagrin, Zoe found it extremely difficult to sit still and eat her fish and chips. There was so much bustle going on around her that she could hardly contain her excitement. Once they had entered into the main area of the inn from the Floo, her father had immediately grasped Zoe's shoulder and directed her to a booth at the far end of the dining area, making her sit with her back to the door. She could see the annoyed look that crossed his face every time the bell above the door rang and Zoe swiveled around to see who was coming into the pub. She couldn't help it; there were so many interesting people here.
Of course, Zoe had been into The Leaky Cauldron and on Diagon Alley before, but never had they stayed to eat at the pub. When they entered into the market on the rare occasions he allowed her to tag along with him, her father always had specific shops to go to and he was always adamant that she not wander away or linger at shop fronts.
However, Zoe knew that today was for her and she intended to make the best of it. She looked around excitedly as the bell over the door once more chimed and watched as two old witches entered. One was tall and one was short and round but they were wearing the exact same turquoise robes and each had about a dozen gold rings around each of their wrists.
Zoe grinned before she realized her father was rapping his knuckles on the table next to her plate in order to gain her attention. She turned back to face him.
"Eat. I do not wish for this to be an all-day affair," he said.
Zoe did as she was told and took another bite of her fish. After swallowing, she looked up to her father who had finished his lunch several minutes before and was now watching her slowly consume her food. "Where are we going first?"
"Gringotts."
"Then where?" she asked. After all, she had seen the goblins and her father's vault before; that was not going to be exciting.
"Probably Flourish and Blotts for your books."
Zoe nodded. "Then where?"
Her father narrowed his eyes at her. "Ollivander's will be the last stop of the day, if that is what you are asking."
Zoe fidgeted and picked at her fish. "Why can't we go there first?"
Her father stared at her for a moment, and then sighed. "Because I wish for you to be able to focus on obtaining your other supplies. There is no doubt in my mind that once your wand has chosen you, all other decisions will become little more than after thoughts."
"But what if my wand gets tired of waiting on me and chooses someone else? What if I miss out on the best wand because we decided to get everything else first?"
Her father shook his head. "That is unlikely. However, if you are truly that worried about it, perhaps you should stop jabbering and finish your lunch. The sooner we buy the rest of your supplies, the sooner we can go to Ollivander's."
Zoe smiled then pushed her plate away. "I'm finished." She'd only eaten about half her lunch, but she was too excited to eat.
Gringotts had been as boring as she had expected and taken entirely too long in Zoe's opinion. Over half an hour later, she finally stepped back out into the sun and looked down the bustling street that was Diagon Alley. She rushed down the steps of the bank and started to walk briskly toward Flourish and Blotts when a hand grasped her arm, halting her forward movement. She looked up into her father's stern face.
"As always, you are to stay with me. No wandering about. Is that clear?"
Zoe looked wistfully down the street. She wasn't a baby. Why didn't he trust her to poke about on her own? She had already swore to him that she would be good and not get into trouble.
"Zoe…" her father said warningly.
"Yes, sir," Zoe grumbled.
He let go of her arm and started toward the bookshop as well, Zoe trudging behind him.
The bookshop had been very interesting. Although he had gone directly to the witch behind the counter and handed Zoe's book list over instead of letting her find the texts herself, her father had allowed her to walk between the aisles and slowly peruse the titles for supplemental works she would like to take to school with her. After only fifteen minutes, she joined him at the counter with a stack of six books. He took each one individually in his hands and read the titles. The first three tomes got through his inspection without incident—one on Charms and two dealing with the preparation of potions ingredients, both plant and animal—but those weren't the ones Zoe worried about. The next one, Broom Models of the Twenty-First Century, he immediately handed back to the shop woman.
"No," her father said to her as he handed it across the counter. Zoe shrugged. At least she'd tried.
Next, her father examined Curses and Countercurses by Vindictus Viridian. He eyed her suspiciously.
"I have this one in my study."
Zoe's eyes grew wider with excitement. "You do?"
Her father nodded. "Yes, and perhaps when you are a seventh year, I will allow you to read it." He turned to the shop witch, ignoring Zoe's sour glare. "You may take this one back as well."
He then looked down at the final book on the counter and frowned. Picking up The Beginning Dueler's Guide to Hexes, Jinxes, Curses and More: All the Spells and Strategies You Need to Take Down Your Opponents by Ares Bogg, he turned to face his daughter.
"Is this supposed to be a joke?"
Zoe bit her lip. "No. I thought it might be…useful."
"Useful for what?"
"For… you know… dueling."
"Do you expect to be dueling often as a first year?"
Zoe shrugged. "I don't know."
"Well, I can assure you, you most certainly will not be even if such things were allowed at Hogwarts."
"How do you—"
"No," her father said authoritatively.
"But what if—"
"Do not argue with me," he said, his tone a warning against further dispute, before turning to separate the book from the pile of approved tomes and adding them to her required school texts. Zoe frowned, crossing her arms over her chest. She petulantly kicked the counter in anger but then quickly looked up to her father with wide eyes. He hadn't noticed and she was glad of it for she knew from experience that to throw a tantrum would result in an automatic end to their outing and a long, stern lecture once they were home.
Her father paid the woman after she wrapped Zoe's books up in brown paper and tied them together. He took out his wand and shrunk the parcel before handing it to Zoe to put in the pocket of her robes.
"Do not lose those."
"I won't," Zoe said, growing more aggravated with her father by the second.
The next stop they made was to Madam Malkin's for Zoe's school robes. As the seamstress pinned the plain black school robes to the correct length, Zoe's father looked on from a chair next to the door, but didn't say anything.
"Are you anxious to find out which house you will be in when you get to Hogwarts?" the witch suddenly asked, looking up at Zoe from the floor.
Zoe hadn't really thought about it. She didn't really know what any of the houses truly were. Minerva had told her a little about the different attributes: Gryffindors were brave, Ravenclaws were smart, Hufflepuffs were loyal and Slytherins were ambitious. But Zoe felt that she was at least partially all of those things. Truthfully, she had no idea which house she belonged in and she wasn't exactly anxious to be in a specific one. She looked to her father whose face was as impassive as ever. She didn't even know if he cared which house she was Sorted into. Zoe looked back to the seamstress.
"Er, I don't know. My godmother was a Gryffindor, but Papa was in Slytherin."
The witch nodded pleasantly. "That's quite the mix. What House was your mother in, dear?"
Zoe saw, out of the corner of her eye, her father's head whip up to look at her as he leaned forward in his chair. The question had obviously startled him and he was anxious to hear her response or otherwise reprimand the witch for asking such an insensitive question—as if the woman should have known better. Zoe thought for a moment and decided to stick to the truth.
"My mother was a Muggle. She died. But I don't think she would have minded which House I got sorted in to," Zoe said, looking back to her father who nodded ever so slightly and sat back once more.
When they left the shop on their way to the apothecary for her potions supplies, Zoe slipped her hand into her father's and looked up at him.
"Papa?"
He continued to walk, weaving his way in and out of the crowd, but looked down at Zoe briefly and squeezed her hand slightly. She took that as a cue that she had his attention.
"Which house do you think I should try to get sorted in to?" she asked.
Her father glanced down at her again.
"It does not work that way. The Sorting Hat knows your mind and places you where you belong. It is not a matter of trying or not trying."
"Oh. Well, do you…care which house I get in to?" she asked, feeling nervous all of a sudden.
Her father stopped in the middle of the pavement and looked down at Zoe critically. Zoe couldn't really tell what he was thinking.
"The house in which you are sorted is…insignificant. I expect you to be a diligent student no matter where you are placed. Your studies are what are important."
Zoe nodded but felt that, though her father said he didn't care, she bet he did, but she didn't push the issue further. For now, anyway, she would do all she could to be a good student for him and, for the moment, she wouldn't worry about being Sorted.
As they entered into Constantine's Apothecary, Zoe let go of her father's hand and started to walk around the shelves along the wall as he approached the shop owner at the back. This was a shop she had been in several times before, of course, but all the preserved specimens, powders and herbs that could be used to make powerful elixirs and potions always fascinated her. As she began to look curiously at the array of cauldrons, the apothecary addressed her father.
"Ah, Mr. Snape! How very nice to see you back. And I see you've brought the young miss with you. Lovely."
"Good afternoon," her father responded.
"Will you be needing your usual order today? I can have it ready in a few minutes."
Zoe looked over at the two men. "No, thank you, I am currently well-supplied," her father said. "I am actually here for a Hogwarts first year kit including a pewter cauldron and scales."
Zoe saw the old apothecary look at her from around her father and smiled at him. He smiled back.
"Ah, yes, I had wondered when that enchanting child of yours would be beginning school. No doubt she's been having a wonderful day gathering her supplies for the upcoming term?"
"Indeed, she has," Zoe heard her father say, "But that enchanting child will find her day cut short if she even thinks about touching those pickled dragon's eyes."
Zoe gasped and immediately pulled her hand away from the surface of the brine over which she had been hovering. She hadn't even realized her father was watching her. She looked sheepishly at him and put her hands behind her back before strolling over to stand next to him at the counter. He watched her sternly then turned back to address the amused shopkeeper.
"I would like the goblin-made scales, please, the normal kit scales are not nearly as accurate, though the basalt mortar and pestle will do for now—I can always upgrade her to a marble one later. Add a few extra vials to the order as well—crystal only—and double the supplies," he requested. "I don't know what sort of stores the current Potions Master has and I would like her to have everything she needs."
"Of course, Mr. Snape, that won't be a problem. Only the best potion supplies for a potioneer's daughter."
Zoe watched as the old man started to walk about the shop, gathering the various supplies she would need for her first year of school. As he laid out a set of scales, her eyes settled on a medium-sized, solid gold cauldron on a shelf behind the counter and she tugged at the sleeve of her father's robes. Once she had gained his attention, she pointed at it.
"Can I have that cauldron for school?"
Her father glanced briefly up in the direction Zoe pointed. "Do you have eight hundred and sixty Galleons?" he asked.
"No," Zoe said.
"Then that is your answer," he responded tersely then went back to examining the supplies and tools the apothecary continued to stack upon the counter.
Zoe frowned and propped her arm up on the counter, resting her head against her hand. Seeing as she couldn't touch anything and her father was only allowing her to get regular supplies, she was bored already.
"I heard a rumor just the other day that you would be returning to Hogwarts School. Shall I change my salutation back to Professor?" the shop owner suddenly asked, smiling broadly toward Zoe's father who sighed heavily.
"Your information is correct. I will be taking on the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Ah, Defense. Splendid. It's good to know those students will finally be gaining real knowledge from someone who has actually seen some action in the field. That August Pounder's a nice bloke, but he doesn't hold a candle to a real-life war hero—"
"Yes," Zoe's father cut the old man off as Zoe's elbow fell clumsily off the counter with surprise and her eyes widened at the information the apothecary had just imparted.
Her father was a war hero? No, he couldn't be. He brewed potions for St. Mungo's and private vendors. He wrote for potions journals and textbooks. Now he was going to be a school professor. Hero? Zoe most certainly hadn't heard that before.
"I am planning a rigorous curriculum and schedule," her father elaborated.
The old man eyed her father quizzically and looked tensely down at Zoe who gazed back just as perplexed. What was the apothecary talking about?
"Ah, yes, of course," he said nervously. "Well, I'll just finish up this order for you."
Zoe's father nodded politely, but her head was spinning. She'd known there had been a war not long before she was born, but she didn't know her father had been involved, much less that he had contributed so much to gain the distinction of hero. Perhaps the apothecary had been mistaken? But then, why had her father acted as if he didn't want the old man to say any more? There was something going on, but Zoe didn't get the chance to worry much about it then for, as soon as her order was ready, her father handed the shrunken packages to her and ushered her out of the shop.
"Papa, what was Mr. Constantine talking about?" she asked curiously once they were back out on the street.
"Nothing that concerns you," he snapped harshly and Zoe didn't dare inquire any further.
After that, they spent very little time buying her telescope and stationery. Zoe was most displeased when her father refused to spend money on color-change ink ("A ridiculous waste of six sickles and I refuse to mark essays that are written in every color of the rainbow") or spelling-correction quills ("If you don't believe your spelling is up to scratch, perhaps we need to spend the rest of the summer working on it?") opting instead for plain, boring parchment and standard quills with black ink. She was even more upset when he wouldn't allow her to even step foot inside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.
"I just wanted to look around," she grumbled moodily after her father had abruptly pulled her from a group of children gathered around the shop window where tiny firecrackers continuously burst over a large, colorful display and a sign that read:
Number One Best-Seller: Skiving Snackboxes
Puking Pastilles – Five New Flavors!
Just In Time for The Journey Back to Hogwarts!
"Yes, I'm sure you wouldn't have absolutely begged me to buy you some worthless contraption that will only get you into trouble," her father mocked. "…a feat of which you do quite well on your own without the assistance of…'wheezes'."
"You never let me have any fun," Zoe pouted.
Her father looked down on her and smirked. "Yes, that is my sole purpose in life: to make sure you don't have any fun." Then he walked away in the direction of Ollivander's Wand Shop.
"I bet it is," Zoe mumbled, making sure that her father wouldn't hear her, before jogging to catch up to him.
Just a few shops down from the wandmaker, they happened upon the last person Zoe wanted to see on her special outing.
Scorpius Malfoy had been standing with his mother outside of Eyelops Owl Emporium, gazing in at the array of birds when he had spotted Zoe and her father. He had instantly turned away from the shop and strode up the pavement toward them.
Zoe groaned inwardly, knowing that a meeting was inevitable.
"Hello, Uncle Severus," Scorpius said, stopping in front of the Snapes. He ignored her presence completely. Zoe narrowed her eyes at the boy as Mrs. Malfoy exchanged pleasantries with her father.
"How has your day been, Scorpius?" Zoe's father asked.
"It's been great! Mum and Dad said that I could pick out an owl for my birthday next week, so Mum and I were going to look inside Eyelops when we saw you."
"Well, I get to start at Hogwarts for my birthday this year," Zoe stated loudly, suddenly feeling the need to one-up her rival.
Her father flicked her shoulder with his finger then and glared at her, indicating that he didn't approve of her immodest attitude. Zoe grimaced as she rubbed the sting from her skin.
"That's not true," Scorpius claimed. "You're not eleven yet."
Zoe opened her mouth to respond, but her father stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. He looked down at his godson.
"Zoe has, indeed, been accepted at Hogwarts a year ahead of time," he said conversationally, more to Mrs. Malfoy than Scorpius. "The Governors and Headmistress approved the early start."
"That's wonderful for you, Zoe. I'm certain you will do very well at Hogwarts," Mrs. Malfoy said, smiling kindly as she reached out and gave Zoe an encouraging shoulder squeeze.
"Thank you," Zoe said.
"But that isn't fair!" Scorpius whined. "How come she gets to go early?"
"Because she was accepted early, darling," Mrs. Malfoy attempted to console her son, pushing his blonde fringe away from his forehead affectionately, smoothing his hair. "It is a great honor. I think you should congratulate her on her accomplishment, don't you?"
Mrs. Malfoy was clearly giving Scorpius very little choice in the matter and the scowl upon his face made it very clear that he would rather drink a teacupful of Stinksap than congratulate Zoe. However, with a slight nudge from his mother, he looked at Zoe sourly.
"Congratulations," he said, barely audibly.
"Thanks," Zoe said, also needing a nudge from her own father in order to get the word out.
As the two families departed each other's company, Zoe's father shook his head.
"Will it ever be possible for the two of you to at least feign civility with each other?" he asked, his tone annoyed.
Zoe merely shrugged. She doubted her and Scorpius would ever get along because he was coddled, self-centered prat, but she didn't feel that that was the answer her father wanted to hear. It was best to just stay quiet.
"Your boast was unnecessary and uncalled for," he scolded, but then said nothing more on the matter as he started toward Ollivander's once more.
She wanted to remain in an unpleasant mood for a while, but the excitement of finally getting her wand kept her from feeling any more annoyance with Scorpius Malfoy or any more disdain toward her father's unfailing strictness for this was the moment she had been waiting for all day.
Severus opened the door to Ollivander's and rolled his eyes as Zoe eagerly pushed past him in her haste to get into the shop. He thought of reprimanding her, but upon seeing the gleam of excitement and awe in her dark blue eyes as they fell upon the shelves containing hundreds upon hundreds of wands, he decided against it. Who was he to dispel her enthusiasm? After all, she had been looking forward to this for the better part of…well, her entire life and she was finally here.
The truth of the matter was that Severus was also rather intrigued by what sort of wand his daughter would be receiving and was anxious for her to begin testing them out. One could tell a lot about a witch or wizard based on the sort of wand that chose them. It harkened back to the conversation outside Madam Malkin's when she had asked him about which house he wanted her to be in and, though he told her he wouldn't mind which one she was placed in as long as she was a good student, he really did care. He certainly didn't know how he would react if Zoe were to be placed in Gryffindor where the brawn outweighed the brains or even in Hufflepuff where everyone who was nobody was placed. He would still love her, of course, and support her, but Slytherin was his hope. She would be challenged there and it would make him proud to see her dressed in his own house colors. However, Severus supposed Ravenclaw wouldn't be so bad either. He certainly felt she possessed the intelligence even if her studying habits left a bit to be desired.
He watched as Zoe walked along the outside rim of the shop simply staring at the intricate boxes stuffed into the shelves. She seemed completely mesmerized and he smirked inwardly as he conjured a wooden chair and sat down in it, crossing his right leg over his left to wait. He knew Mr. Ollivander preferred to make an entrance for the children and had no doubt that the man was aware of their presence in his shop.
Zoe had stopped next to one set of shelves and had lifted her hand up to touch the deep green velvet inlaid upon the wood of one particular box. Severus was about to tell her not to touch when Mr. Ollivander suddenly whirred into existence right next to Severus's very stunned daughter and grabbed her wrist.
"No, that one is not right for you at all, my dear," the man said airily—wheezing, really. "Not nearly powerful enough."
His daughter's eyes looked like they were about to pop out of her head in surprise as the old man turned to face Severus.
"No doubt she gets her inquisitive nature from you, Professor, but even you knew not to touch wands that hadn't been placed in your hand by me when you first came in."
Severus frowned at the ancient wandmaker. If only the man knew how exceptionally foolhardy his daughter could be, he wouldn't be criticizing Severus's parenting.
"I assure you, Ollivander, she will give you no trouble or I will personally remove her from your premises," Severus drawled, gazing sternly at his daughter across the shop. She at least had the decency to look embarrassed.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Ollivander, sir. I won't touch anything," she said, looking straight into the old man's eyes.
"Ah! There are some manners there. Well done, Professor!" Severus rolled his eyes. "Well," Ollivander began, releasing Zoe and then rubbing his hands together, "let's get started, shall we?"
He moved into the center of the room where there stood a small, low platform and waved toward Zoe to follow him. She averted her eyes cautiously from the old man and looked at her father. Severus knew she was nonverbally asking whether she should follow the man, so he inclined his head slightly and Zoe, taking a visibly deep breath, walked over to stand on the platform. Severus noticed that she seemed anxious as she stepped up onto it. She was immediately bombarded with a tape flying about her head and body, taking measurements.
Mr. Ollivander watched curiously for a bit before turning once more to address Severus.
"Which is her wand arm?" he asked.
"I can answer that," Zoe snapped crossly as the measuring tape flew around her head.
"Zoe," Severus calmly warned, though he understood that the wandmaker could be thoroughly irksome.
A flush appeared on his daughter's cheeks at the reprimand as Ollivander turned toward her.
"I mean, I'm standing right here. You can ask me questions, sir," she stated sheepishly.
"Yes, as I predicted," said Ollivander, appraising the girl. "Boldly defensive, much like your father. Well, which is it then?"
Zoe scowled at the old man as Severus smirked.
"It's my right," she stated sourly.
Severus knew from experience that the old wandmaker was merely sizing his daughter up. No doubt, it would be easier to select the more likely wands for her if Ollivander knew that her wand was likely to reflect her personality.
"Gets that scowl from you too, Severus Snape." Ollivander turned briefly toward Severus before facing Zoe once more. "Horrid, awful expression, but you, young lady, should be happy you didn't inherit your father's nose. Sharp as the beak of a bird of prey, that is."
This time it was Severus's turn to scowl as Zoe tried to repress a giggle.
"Can you please get on with it, old man?" Severus snapped.
Ollivander hardly seemed to notice Severus's shortness as he snapped his fingers and the measuring tape disappeared from where it was measuring between Zoe's exposed toes. Several boxes started zooming toward them from various shelves around the room until there was a relatively large array stacked up in piles around where Zoe stood on the platform. Her eyes conveyed complete amazement and several times, she looked to Severus, beaming, to make sure he was paying attention to what was obviously the greatest thing she had ever experienced in her life. It was one more first for her that Severus would secretly cherish along with her first steps, her first signs of magic, and her first words.
"You, Miss Snape," Ollivander said, "come from very powerful wizarding stock."
"I do?" Zoe asked, truly intrigued and excited.
"Indeed," Ollivander replied. "Everyone knows of your father's exploits, of course…" Zoe's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "…but I remember every wand I ever sold. I remember its components and I remember who received that wand. You, my dear, come from a long line of wands that contained dragon heartstrings. Therefore, we will begin there. Here, try this one out."
The man handed Zoe a straight, dark wand that contained runes etched along the side. From where he sat across the room, it looked very similar to Severus's own wand.
"Ten inches, ebony, dragon heartstring, nice and supple. Give it a wave, my dear."
Zoe stared at the wand then looked up at Mr. Ollivander before clutching the wand tightly and bringing it up. She had barely moved it before the entire shop began to rattle as if a minor earthquake were occurring.
"No, not that one," Ollivander said as he snatched it from Zoe. She looked momentarily crestfallen before the wandmaker replaced the one he had taken.
"Nine and a half inches, cherry, dragon heartstring, reasonably pliant."
A wave and the glass in the shop front window behind Severus imploded. Luckily, knowing to expect anything, he had cast a Shield Charm around himself before Ollivander had even taken out the likely wands. The old man looked exasperatedly at Severus.
"Powerful, yes, very powerful. I imagine she has quite the temper?"
Severus nodded, remembering his daughter's reaction to him wanting to send her to Beauxbatons. "Intolerable," he stated.
"Merlin, boy, has she inherited any of her mother's traits?"
Severus narrowed his eyes as he watched Ollivander give Zoe wand after wand. With each new wave, something in the room broke and by the time Zoe was on her twenty-eighth wand—ten and a half inches, yew, dragon heartstring, unyielding—and caused the small, rustic chandelier to come crashing to the floor, the minute shop looked like it had been hit by a very powerful cyclone. He could tell his daughter was becoming quite frustrated with the process by the way her eyes blazed and Severus knew it wouldn't be too long before things would begin exploding of their own accord as her magic spun out of control.
"Excuse me while I go to the back," Ollivander said. "There are some older models in there that may be suitable."
Upon the wandmaker's exit, Severus stood and approached his daughter who had collapsed onto the wooden platform. He needed to calm her before he could allow her to continue. As he approached, she looked up at him, frowning indignantly.
"None of these work!" she shouted at him in frustration.
"Zoe," he said as coolly as he could, "calm down. There are still hundreds of wands here."
"But Mr. Ollivander said I would probably have one like yours and all of my ancestors, but none of the dragon heartstring wands are working."
"That does not mean that your wand is not here." Severus knelt down so that he was more on an even level with his daughter and attempted to soften his tone. "Did you even think that, perhaps, you are more suited to what your mother would have had, had she been a witch?"
"But, Papa, she wasn't a witch. How could Mr. Ollivander know what kind of wand she would have had?"
Severus could see Ollivander out of the corner of his eye waiting just behind a shelf with an armful of wand boxes. He was waiting for Severus to finish his conversation with his daughter. However, Severus knew that it could take several minutes to explain to Zoe about the intricacies of personality; how Zoe would have to somehow exhibit one of her mother's characteristics in order for Ollivander to know what kind of a wand Elizabeth may have had, had she been magical. In the end, he decided to keep it up to fate, so Severus took Zoe's hands in his and together they rose back to their feet.
"Be patient," he said simply. "I am certain your wand is here somewhere."
Zoe nodded but still looked upset as Ollivander bustled back into the room.
"Ah! Here we are! Let's just try a few of these."
So, the afternoon progressed. After Zoe had tried out over fifty wands, Severus would have been lying if he had said he wasn't concerned about her finding the right one. It was after she had turned Ollivander's hair purple trying out her sixty-fourth wand, that even the old man finally seemed thoroughly bewildered.
"Never in all my years have I had such a challenging client. Either you, girl, don't know what you want to be or—"
Ollivander seemed to have just thought of something, for he broke off and walked briskly to the back of the store. Zoe's eyes followed him, clearly confused by the old man's actions. Severus was also rather perplexed.
After only a few moments, however, Mr. Ollivander returned carrying only one box this time. It was made of a dark wood and ornately carved with what appeared to be unicorns and fairies—the images of myth rather than the actual creatures that inhabited the magical world. Zoe stared, wide-eyed, as Mr. Ollivander carefully slid the lid open and pushed back the green, velvet wrappings. Severus couldn't see it from where he was sitting, but he could tell the wand must have been highly impressive by the way Zoe's eyes lit up and the way Ollivander seemed to covet it. The old man looked up at Severus's daughter then.
"This wand has been in my collection for eighty-four years, my dear. It is, perhaps, the rarest and most exotic combination I have ever manufactured. However, seeing as how you insist on being difficult..." Ollivander eyed Severus with an air of annoyance as if he was the root cause of this. Severus merely raised an eyebrow at the man. "…perhaps this is just the wand for you."
Slowly, Ollivander removed the wand from its wrappings and placed it in Zoe's eager, awestruck hand. Instantly, a wind rushed around the room, fluttering everyone's hair, though not a speck of dust from the debris scattering the shop was disturbed. Zoe seemed to emit a halo of phosphorescent greens, blues and reds around her and the end of the wand she held glowed white for a moment before emitting a brilliant show of similar colored sparks that arced up before falling to the floor and fading out. Severus watched as his daughter's face slowly grew an enormous smile. She knew this wand had chosen her. He couldn't help but smirk with pride.
"What is it made of?" Zoe asked politely though there was urgency to her question.
Ollivander pulled the wand from Zoe and held it in his hands. "It looks very much like polished ebony—not unlike your father's wand—but is actually composed of African Blackwood, very supple. It has a length of twelve and one half inches, but the core, now that is where the magic lies. You see, this wand contains two magical cores, both of the same animal: a feather and a hair. Do you know of an animal that has both feathers and fur?" Ollivander asked Zoe.
Zoe wrinkled her brow in concentration for several moments. She looked toward Severus and he could see that she knew the answer.
"A griffin!" she exclaimed.
"Indeed. A true symbol of strength, boldness and intelligence. An amalgamation of two powerful beasts, one that stalks the land and the other a regal predator of the skies."
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. It's brilliant!" Zoe said taking the wand back as the old man handed it to her.
"You are quite welcome, my dear. Now," he looked over to catch Severus's eye as he began to shuffle Zoe towards the door. "It is time to discuss payment with your father. Perhaps you would like to take your new wand just outside the door there?"
Zoe barely nodded her head as she allowed herself to be pushed kindly out the door onto the cobblestones beyond, looking excitedly at her brand new wand.
"Don't wave it about, now. We wouldn't want the Ministry to swoop down on you for underage magic…," the old man warned before quickly shutting the door and turning to face Severus with a distinct frown upon his face.
"What is it?" Severus asked.
Ollivander shook his head as he walked resolutely past Severus to stand behind his tall counter. For some reason, Severus got the distinct impression that Mr. Ollivander was not very happy about having just sold that particular wand.
"That wand is very powerful, Professor, exceptionally so. I've never made another like it."
Severus scowled at the old man and crossed his arms over his chest. "I thought wands were only as powerful as the witch or wizard who brandishes them. Surely you aren't telling me you have just allowed a ten-year-old little girl to be given a wand with exceptional powers all its own?"
"Do you not use your eyes, boy? Have you not raised that child?" Ollivander asked, ignoring Severus's disapproving stare. "That wand has a powerful core, oh yes, but it is doubly so because your child wields it."
"What are you talking about?" Severus spat.
"Many wands are good for specific areas of magic—Charms, Transfiguration—and their rigidity or lack thereof enables its user to perform better in those specific forms of magic. A witch or wizard's type of wand also tends to be a reflection of its owner's personality. Take your wand for example, ebony and dragon heartstring—or more specifically the heartstring of a Chilean Chameleon Dragon—very rigid. No doubt it came in handy for your…specific talents during the war: manipulation, secrecy, disillusionment and the like…" Ollivander paused as he looked past Severus toward Zoe on the front stoop, ignoring the younger wizard's resentful scowl.
"And?" Severus coerced, annoyed.
"That wand has no specificity. It will perform exceptionally in any area of magic. There are reasons I no longer manufacture wands from griffins, however. For one, rarely do they actually choose a witch or wizard and the sacrifice I make to obtain the core parts no longer became viably worth the effort."
"More importantly, however, their magic is temperamental. It doesn't know what it wants; it's unstable, even. For example, it may emit a hex that it feels its owner intended—however fleetingly—rather than the hex that has been uttered from the owner's lips. Only someone with an extraordinary amount of internal magical ability and self-control can harness that kind of power. To be honest, I always imagined that wand would go to a grown wizard whose original wand had been damaged beyond repair or had changed its allegiance in battle—never to a child as a first wand. The fact that it chose your daughter speaks leaps and bounds. Am I right in my assessment that her abilities are already quite prevalent? More than normal for her age?"
"I'm unsure... I have seen the same outward effects exhibited from other children who were frightened or in a temper…"
"How old was she when she first made something explode?" Ollivander asked suddenly, waving off Severus's explanation.
"What does this have to do with anything?" Severus spat, his anger rising at the old man.
"Younger than eight?"
Severus couldn't help the look of bewilderment that crossed his features.
"I don't see—"
"Younger than five?" Ollivander pressed.
Severus sighed heavily, defeated. "She had just turned three. She was angry with me for leaving her with her godmother for the weekend. She reduced a very old and large stone artifact in Minerva McGonagall's home to dust."
"And did you suffer any ill effects from her outburst?"
Severus frowned. How did this old man seem to know so much about his daughter's disposition? "I felt like I had been electrocuted when I tried to discipline her for it. Needless to say, she…got away with her tantrum."
Ollivander nodded. "Yes, that is a very gifted little girl you have there, Professor. Has she ever shown any control over her magic?"
"I don't think—" Severus began before remembering the peculiar holes in the soil of his conservatory. "Yes, she successfully channeled her magic through a ginger root to blast holes into some soil. She was only playing, but I believe they were made intentionally. I've also seen controlled, wandless manipulation of small objects and plants."
Ollivander nodded as if Severus had just confirmed his suspicions. "Keep an eye on her," he said. "She'll be impulsive and experimental; it seems to come naturally to the owners of griffin wands. But I think it can be said that we should expect some very interesting magic from her in years to come."
The man turned away from Severus and started toward the back of his shop. "Ginger roots? I've never considered…"
Ollivander's voice died away and Severus was left there standing by himself. The old man hadn't even stayed around to make sure he was paid. Severus frowned as he pulled a large stack of Galleons from a pocket of his robes and laid it on the counter for Zoe's wand before turning quickly and sweeping from the shop, taking his daughter's hand as he exited onto the front stoop to march her back toward The Leaky Cauldron. Zoe didn't seem to mind being pulled along through the throngs of people and also hadn't seemed to notice her father's suddenly foul mood. For some reason what Ollivander had said had put him in a sour frame of mind and Severus no longer wanted to be anywhere near Diagon Alley.
Everyone knows that the best Easter gift anyone could possibly receive is the gift of reviews. I'd even go so far as to say it's better than a chocolate bunny.