Disclaimer: I do not own –man or Harry Potter
"Oak wood, swishy, with a hair of a Unicorn, a Feather of a Shadow Phoenix, and the Blood of a threstral. Very powerful." Olivandier (sp?) announced carefully handing the wand to Allen.
As Allen's hand grasped the wood a feeling of power spread through his veins.
"Interesting." the old man murmured to himself.
Ask him why. The 14th's voice intruded, causing Allen to jump in surprise.
Why? he thought back.
Its important to understand how the wizards will react in the future if they find out your type of wand. You wouldn't want them to turn against you like the Order correct?
"Excuse me, but what is so interesting sir?"
(A/N)
Chapter Seven
Allen POV
"Excuse me, but what is so interesting sir?" Allen asked, listening to the voice in his head. He might not trust the Fourteenth but at least he had proven at the very least he was well vested in the white haired vessels survival. After all, Allen reasoned, he thinks that he is going to own it someday.
Olliviander looked up, startled at the question that had knocked him from his thoughts. "My dear boy, I have just sold a wand that I always questioned making. In fact, I probably never would have made it except for a rather insistent, odd man who brought in all of your cores. I never thought that I would be able to sell this wand…"
Allen stared, still confused at the man's odd reaction. It was just a wand right? All the other wizards he had seen had them. To be honest he did quite understand why the man was so bothered by it, so he shrugged it off and left the shop.
However, inside his head, the Fourteenth had something else to worry about. A powerful wand, you say, the Fourteenth thought secretively, mmm… this might be the key. And who was the man who ordered the wand? How does he fit into all this?
Allen, unaware of the Fourteenths conflicting thoughts, had taken advantage of the fact that he was roaming an alley, unobserved, and had made his way to the nearest inn he could find. Now, while he largely stopped gambling, there were times that he just couldn't resist the lure of genially ridding people of their… spare change. After all, he had learned the hard way, if you can't back it up, don't put it out.
….
Harry paced down the alley's walkways, silently fuming as he weaved through the crowds of staring people, who seemed to think that they were staring secretively. Yeah right. It was fairly obvious that everyone seemed to think it was fascinating to stare at the "loony boy" but right now, the boy-who-lived found it incredibly easy to ignore the stares he was getting.
How could Dumbledore do this to him? It was fairly easy to see that the headmaster didn't trust him anymore, but a Slytherin? He was asked to look out for a Slytherin? He was probably a Death Eater, a theory he whole heartedly supported because of the strange people who had shown up earlier. And the old man was letting the willingly into the school.
He stopped abruptly in his fast walk, thinking. He shouldn't let himself get carried away by his anger. It seemed to be a lot more volatile than usual. He took a deep breath, and carefully let it out. Dumbledore wouldn't betray the order. Heck, he was the one who created the Order. However, it was entirely possible that he was being fooled. Harry held the headmaster in highest regard, and would do just about anything he asked, but he did recognize the fact that sometimes the headmaster trusts too easily. From what he could tell, and he was fairly confident in his analyzations, Allen seemed to be used to lying. He could have lied about who he was like Crouch did when he pretended to be Alaster…
He was lost in these thoughts when a voice called out to him from down the street.
"Harry!" He turned around, and grinned when he saw Hermione and Ron. "Have you met the new students?"
Harry grimaced, the source of his irritation returning to annoy him again. "I've met one of them, and I don't trust him. He seems suspicious to me."
Hermione sighed in slight disappointment. "Harry, you just met him. I'm sure he can't be that bad."
"He's in Slytherin!"
Ron looked up. "There, Hermione. He must be bad. Slytherin supports Voldemort!"
Hermione seemed to growl. "Are you two really telling me that you think this transfer student is on V-Voldemorts side because he is in Slytherin?"
Harry and Ron both had the grace to look sheepish. "Maybe." They replied. Hermione shook her head, but dropped the argument as they walked down the street.
"Hey," Harry said suddenly, "Have you met any of the transfer students?"
Hermione looked up and smiled. "Yes, we just finished showing them around. Oh look, there they are now!" She exclaimed, hurrying quickly over to a group of teens that stood out quite clearly. There was a girl and two boys.
Ron and Harry stared after her for a moment, then just shrugged and followed her.
"Hello," greeted girl, "My name is Lenalee, and this is Lavi and Kanda. What are your names?"
Ron blushed at the pretty girl's question, and proudly told her, "My name is Ron Weasly, and this here, is my best mate, Harry Potter." He paused conveniently, as though awaiting a reaction. When he received none, he frowned a bit, and added, "You know, the boy-who-lived?"
Lenalee looked at the red-headed, one eyed boy named Lavi as though for an explanation, while the Japanese transfer stood by silently, although he too seemed to be waiting for an explanation. Lavi laughed in amusement and made the long haired Japanese one (Kanda?) growl in annoyance, but gave an explanation anyway. "The boy-who-lived, also known as Harry Potter and the Chosen One, is the name and title of the only survivor recorded of the Avada Kedavera, or killing curse. The one who had cast the killing curse on him was none other than the Dark Lord, otherwise known as He-who-must-not-be-named, Voldemort, or Tom Riddle Junior. The curse backfired, leaving the dark wizard bodiless for fourteen years."
The Hogwarts kids stared in shock that the red-haired one knew so much. They exchanged glances that said that they would need to discuss this later. However, at the moment they were interrupted by Lavi suddenly yelling out, "Look, there's Allen! Hey Allen! Allen! Beansprout!"
A loud voice echoed down the street, as the white haired boy came into the wizards view, "MY NAME IS NOT BEANSPROUT! IT'S ALLEN! Oh, it was just you Lavi."
Lenalee went to hug the white haired boy, but froze as she noticed a scent that drifted off his clothes. "Allen, what were you doing just now?" she asked suspiciously. At the question, Allen seemed to shrink.
"Now Lenalee," he tried to sooth, "I know you don't like it, but I had to get rid of my stress som—" But whatever he meant to say was cut off by Lenalee as she started scolding him.
"Rid of stress? It's dangerous Allen! What if you'd been hurt or killed? We wouldn't know."
"Relax Lenalee, it's not like I don't have experience. I've been doing it for a long time."
"It doesn't mean you should!"
"I made some money! I didn't get hurt! It was just cards."
Lenalee growled.
"Fine," the white haired boy gave up. "I won't go gambling while we are here. I'll just hang around here with you guys. Will that make you happy?"
Lenalee beamed.
The Hogwarts trio stared.
A/N: So short. Going through writers block ideas would be most apprieated.
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