A/N: the zigzag's still there, but there's just one this time. Er… sorry for the wait, and here ya go.

Chapter 4: Of Soulmates and Wands

Harry flashed to his the residence of his soul-mate, she saw him outside of her window and ran downstairs to convince her parents that she was headed to the library and wouldn't be back for a while.

Five minutes later they had flame-travelled to the Hog's Head and transformed back to their human visages. Harry walked confidently in front of his love, but had more the air of protective brother than that of the soulmate he would act as but had not yet began.

'Excuse me, sir,' he said to the bartender, 'but me and my friend, we want to go to Diagon Alley. My Aunt- she's a muggle- told me that my mum said to ask you for directions when it was time to go shopping for the year ahead.'

Tom looked him and Hermione over and seemed to accept the jumbled explanation, 'Come on out back, then you two,' he said kindly, 'my name's Tom, the Alley is right through here, just a mo'.'

After cheerfully tapping the correct bricks, he ushered the children through the doorway and wished them luck.

'Right then,' Hermione said, turning to Harry, 'we came for wands, so don't we need money?'

'Not necessarily, love,' he said, 'Ollivander is obligated as a wandmaker to present the Lord and Lady of magic a wand to fit their roles. Every wandmaker keeps supplies in the back for just such an occasion. We repay them by using their works to keep the balance.'

'You've learned quite a lot, haven't you?' a sudden thought seemed to strike her, 'er, Harry, how long was I dead?'

He looked at her mournfully and seemed to fight with himself before answering, 'When I used the Calling of Ra, I looked around my late thirties to early forties,' he took another breath at her incredulous gape, 'it was the year 5000.' Hermione's hand flew to her face as her lips formed a small "o." Harry gave her a sad smile in return. They stepped into Ollivander's and were greeted by the white-eyed wandmaker.

'I don't believe that I should be seeing you two just yet,' he said in his wispy voice, 'how may I help you?'

Recovered from the shock, it was Hermione who spoke first. 'Oh, come now, Ollivander,' cooed Hermione, 'surely you have space in the back room for two children wanting a wand?' He paled at the realization of just who was inside his shop before suspicion came through.

At a mental signal he couldn't place, the children before him shifted to show that Royal Phoenixes were truly in his humble store. They both dropped two of the swirling feathers, one for their wand and one as a gift to the ancient wandmaker, as per tradition so he could braid them together with a core of his choice to make his own wand.

'Right then,' he said hoarsely as both his right and left hands burned pleasantly with the shifting brand from that of the old alchemical circles to the new one, 'follow me.' He led them to the back room and set the feathers down reverently on the table. The ones he would be keeping were placed in a safe of sorts, next to a branch of insubstantial, smoky grey wood.

'Right then,' Ollivander said nervously, 'if I may ask how you came into your inheritance so soon?'

'Easily,' said Harry flippantly as they returned to their human bodies with an innocent blink that fooled no one, 'I simply had to call the sun. I'm a Black necromancer, you see.' Ollivander nodded and relaxed slightly.

'Well then,' he said briskly, 'Lord…'

'Samael,' Harry supplied helpfully.

'Hecate,' Hermione said softly, Ollivander nodded again.

'Right, Lord Samael, that section is where I keep the less… agreeable woods. Lady Whiteflame, over there is where the more Light oriented woods are kept. Simply run your hand over the sprigs until you find the one that best suits you, I'll return shortly with my different cores.'

Harry went carefully over each type, some produced a light tingling that he supposed was good enough, but kept going, searching for the right one. Hermione did the same, and soon both were standing back at the work table with two different sticks. When Ollivander returned, he looked excited at the prospect of dual woods. No doubt that there would be multiple cores as well.

'Same thing with the cores, if you would,' he said giddily. When they were done, both had chosen four different wand cores. The old wandmaker looked about ready to start jumping off of the walls.

He took the cores for Hermione first, and entwined the feather with a white hair and wrapped that around a scale. He shaped the wood lovingly and pressed the twisted mass inside before pouring ash over it. He appeared to be possessed the way that his hands moved without any conscious thought. There was no thinking involved; only an image of the vortex they travelled through within his head.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione got her wand. There was no sparks or flashy displays, only a silver nimbus glowing around her briefly before sinking in. She sighed in contentment. It was a beautiful wand, the woods blending together seamlessly, the two colours swirling about one another on the smooth surface, the handle was twisting ivy, fitting the curves of her palm and the back of her hand perfectly.

'That wand,' Ollivander murmured, 'is made of oak and alder, the two are good for charms, healing, nature magic, protection wards, and counter curses. The four cores are unicorn tail hair, willingly given, again for charms and goes only for the pure of heart. The ashwinder ash is once more for protective wards and charms. Your feather is for all sorts of magic, but adds power to light and Defensive spells. The chimera scale is rare, a boost of power but also represents yourself.'

'Oh,' Hermione breathed, eyes shining, 'that's amazing!'

'Yes indeed,' Ollivander agreed as he continued, 'the smooth surface shows that it and its mistress are calm and collected. It is rigid as well, for defensive magic once more, it is headstrong and unyielding. It is also fourteen inches long, showing that your core is already ridiculously powerful with much growth to come. All in all, I have never in all my years seen a wand so steeped in ancient light magic, but that is to be expected, yes?'

'Thank you very much, Ollivander!' She cried happily, 'er… how will we avoid being singled out as the Lord and Lady?'

'I was wondering that as well,' said Harry, 'and you'll keep this transaction secret?'

'Of course I will,' he sounded scandalised, 'but by casting a simple charm upon me, it could be anything from levitation to a curse, I won't be able to say who you are without permission, even under Veritaserum or a Ligilimancy attack. As to the second wand, I can supply a glamour charm to cover your true wands to match any secondary wands. And a secondary wand with two holsters,' he added as an afterthought. 'The secondary will be the ones you had originally, to be picked up the day your escort comes of course.'

Hermione nodded thoughtfully before using Wingardium Leviosa to levitate Ollivander a few inches off the ground. When he dropped gently, white light and phoenix song flashed for an instant. Then He began on Harry's wand.

Another thirty minutes later, Ollivander stepped back from the table quickly. He had entwined the feather and thick black sinews together, wrapped it around a long fang and slid a chimera scale within the incisor. The spiralling shaft was black and red, swirling in such a way it was impossible to tell when the change occurred. The effect was rather dizzying altogether.

The handle was in the shape of a fire, the flames wrapping around his wrist comfortably.

When Harry lifted it, a cascade of feeling poured forth and a dark gold nimbus enveloped his sight as his blood runes glowed proudly, he felt several blocks shatter and disintegrate as his magical reserves increased tenfold, a bit more of his old power but all of the magic his younger self held before. It was liberating.

Quickly, he cast a Petrificus Totalus on the man before him only to swiftly cancel it the moment he could. It was wonderful to have a wand that worked for him after using only wandless spells for so long.

'Well then, Lord Samael,' Ollivander murmured, 'your wand is made of Padauk and Yew; they are for curses, Dark Magic and Necromancy. Any novice would be consumed instantaneously by the Padauk and its seductive call. Proof once more of your story.

'The runespoor fang accents your Dark Magic, and your feather is the same as the lovely Lady here, but Dark instead of Light magic. It also has a rather unexpected affinity with lightning, air and fire while Lady Whiteflame has one with water and earth.The chimera scale has the exact same purpose as your beloved, obviously, just as the Hell Dragon heartstring is used for hexes and curses.

'If I may be so bold I would go so far as to call your wand a temperamental monstrosity that Lord Voldemort wouldn't be able to wield without being burned or consumed. I take it you don't like others controlling you?'

'This truly is amazing,' Harry said with laughter in his eyes at the wry assessment, nodding slightly as he carried on, 'and the length plays the same role as Hermione's at 14 inches, yes?'

'Indeed,' he nodded, 'the shaft is sharply spiraled, signifying that you are quick witted and open-minded as they come. The fact that it is inflexible marks it once again for hexes and curses, with a willful deposition that doesn't back down.'

'We thank you, Ollivander,' the two said together, 'for the wonderful explanation and fantastic wandcraft.'

'No,' the white haired man said with a smile, 'thank you for giving me the honour of doing so. The other wandmakers will all soon be sporting your mark. Do you have a name for it?'

'The Mark of Harmony,' the two chorused together with fingers intertwined, 'goodbye, Ollivander.' They said as black and white fire deposited them at home.