Thanks so much to all you who reviewed and faved my story!
A special shoutout goes out to harryfan160889, my wonderful beta, who reviewed my story and advised me to make some changes in my story. Chapter one has some slight changes, so go check it out. Chapters 2 and 3 should be up soon, and so on until chapter 9.
Anyway, here you go!
Last time on Bestiae Mortis:
"Yes, yes you will." Harry said confidently and then smirked at the flush that blossomed on Nar's face. The elf quickly nodded and turned, Harry's gaze following him as he walked away.
School was going to be fun this year.
Chapter 10: Mystic Ridge Part 2
Harry turned to look for the wand shop, the elf still at the forefront of his mind. He shook himself to clear his mind; he needed to be focused if he was at least going to get his wand before he had to leave.
Glancing around as he walked along the main road, Harry noticed a small wooden sign hanging down from the high eave at the front. The words 'Michelle's Wand Shop' had been carved into it and filled with black ink. A small wand stretched across the surface above the words with small nicks circling around the business end — sparks of magic no doubt. He smirked at the picture and walked into the shop. A small brass bell jingled on the knob of the thick oak door to announce his arrival. He heard a soft cry of something from the back and took the time until Michelle came to check out the shop. It was so...colorful. A stack of color-classified wands, ceiling high, rose up on the right, just like Ollivander's. A desk of red cherry wood sat in the middle with a moon — complete with a round-cheeked face — and what looked like a whole constellation of stars carved into the front panel. The edges had been carved into points and ran all the way down to the bottom with slim side planks. There was a dark chrome lamp, not being used, over a large book with yellowed edges.
Behind it led to an over hanging second floor, where he could see a table set out for two, with all the necessities – unclean plates, silverware, little cups. Whoever owned this shop had had company not too long ago.
He glanced around again. There were long stripes of color that swum along the middle of the gray floor, shifting places with the dying light. He slowly strode toward them, circling around to stare at the ceiling. It arched into a very shallow dome like a sunroof. It was stained glass, with colors from all over the color wheel bleeding together. Small, wire-thin lines of metal broke the rainbow river and curled in toward the center. From it hung a chandelier of curling metal, which reflected the color onto the walls.
A fireplace rose along the far wall, currently unused, but it looked like it would be amazing to sit in front of during the winter.
"Ah, hello! Welcome!" Harry started at the perky voice and spun toward the counter. A young, smiling man stood behind it. His hair was red as blood and slim strands hung down to his pointed chin. Square glasses perched on his small nose and had been looped into a beaded string that wound around his neck — his eyeglass holders. He was wearing a simple white button up with a red, nearly undone ribbon around the collar, and black pants that clung to his hips. "I am Michelle! Are you here for a wand?"
"Hello...My name is Harry. And, um, yes, I would like to get a wand." Harry walked up to the front with a slightly confused expression. This guy was so...hyper.
"You seem a little old to be getting your first, so, something happened to the old one?" He smiled toothily and leaned forward onto the desk like they were gossiping.
"Yeah. It…broke." The prodigy answered lamely, shifting his eyes away from the wandmaker's expectant face. It wouldn't do for him to go about telling everyone that he was once a convicted felon.
"Oh…" the redhead seemed put out at the rather uneventful answer, but he perked up immediately.
"Alright, well, do you remember what your other one was like?"
"Um…I believe it was holly…eleven inches tall…with a phoenix feather for a core. Do you have one like that?"
"Hm…yes, but no, no; that one won't do…" he muttered. Harry's brows disappeared behind his bangs.
"But that's exactly like my old one! Why would you change it?"
"Because you have, dear." Harry blinked at the answer, realizing suddenly that it was true. He had changed; his outlook on life was different, that for certain. And a few years ago he would have never had the courage to flirt with anyone, let alone a professor, of all people, like he had before he came; he'd been far too shy, far too self-loathing. Now that he'd changed his environment, he felt better, more free; more self-aware than he had ever had been. And more mature, too.
The redhead stared at him intently, as if trying to figure something out. He uttered a soft 'hm' and then spun away toward the back. He took out box after box, throwing the ones that dissatisfied him over his shoulder and continuing on. Harry watched his exaggerated movement with barely concealed amusement. He liked this guy, quirky or not.
"Found it!" he crowed and bounded over to Harry like a happy little puppy, nearly beaming when he handed it over. Harry carefully took the box from his outstretched hand and lifted the lid. He gasped softly at the strange wand nestled among the plush, red interior.
It was a strange red, so dark that it looked black in any but just the right light. It was the smoothest wand he had ever seen. His old wand had been separated into three sections: the thick, mottled handle, a thinner, rugged middle, and a thin, smooth end. This one was one long, sleek piece of wood that got steadily thinner to the rounded point at the end. He gingerly took it out, and the effect was almost instantaneous.
A rush of magic washed over him, sending a rush of blood throughout his body, into every nook and cranny. His body sung when it came in contact with the wood. He had to actively suppress a moan as he relaxed and let the feeling wash over him. The pleasure of such power took over his senses and it rushed hot and thick through his blood stream, like molten lava that set his every nerve on fire; All around him the wand boxes rattled at the sudden magical swell, and even the wand-maker closed his eyes as the feeling washed over him.
This was ten times better than with his old wand. He felt invincible, like he could do anything, anywhere, anytime.
"This wand…it's perfect." His voice was smooth and husky, like melted chocolate. Michelle's body shuddered in pleasure at the sound, the rich timbre nearly sending him to his knees. Very few of his customers reacted so strongly to his wands, and when they did they always got this way. He smiled at the look of shocked delight on the man's face, his unusually brilliant eyes now a liquid myrtle green, and pushed back from his counter with shaky legs.
"That's petrified wood, treated with the blood of a thestral, with a thestral hair for its core. It should be about eleven inches, like your old one, but lighter."
"Why thestral?"
"You have an air of death around you." Harry nodded, reluctantly putting the wand back. People did tend to die when they came in contact with him.
"Hm, yeah; I've lost a lot of people in the past."
"Well, there's that, but this is different. Death will play a huge part in your future, but...not the way you're thinking." at Harry's confused look, Michelle merely smiled enigmatically. "Just trust me, dear boy; I have knack for seeing others the way they are, or will be. Don't worry about it; you'll see." he patted the prodigal man's shoulder comfortingly.
Harry nodded and shook off his confusion; that was a subject for another time. He straightened himself back up and smiled pleasantly to Michelle.
"How much?"
"$37.50, please." Michelle said and Harry pulled out his bag and said the amount. The bags they got from Garrigon's magically converted the Wizarding money into the currency of the region, and Mystic Ridge followed the Muggle dollar system, therefore he pulled the amount, exactly, out of the bag and handed it to Michelle. The redhead took it and placed it in an unseen drawer.
"May I see your wand box?"
"Sure." Harry handed it over. Michelle took out a small, dark brown wand and waved it over the black box. Slowly golden letters were etched into the wood, spelling out his name in a loopy, beautiful cursive.
"Here you go." Michelle handed it back along with a small little bag for the box. "Have a nice night."
"You too, Michelle; you too." Harry took the offered bag and walked out with a wave and a smile. When he stepped out of the street, there was barely anyone out. There were few stragglers that looked either shady or nervous; the nervous ones were most likely wary of the shady ones. The book store was further down, and the mundane stores, one that sold the linens and other things, were in the opposite direction, so he didn't see any of the others.
The sound of wind chimes caught his attention to another store. The soft, slightly chilled breeze flew through it and forced the silver rods together to make a soft, tinkling music. It hung over another shop across the street. The window had a painted picture of an owl perched on a tree above a tabby cat with a frog at the cat's feet. It said 'Pesky's Pet Shop.'
Remembering that Hermione had no familiar, Harry decided to step in and take a look. It looked promising, if anything, and if he didn't do anything else today, he would do that. There seemed to be just enough time to browse through the animals and look for one for her.
He crossed the street and into the shop. When he walked in, the lights were dim and soft, homey to be exact. The air was relaxed, and he got the feeling of a jungle or a forest. There were growing vines all over the walls, pulsing with life. They clung to the bricks but never touched the crates that were arranged throughout the store in a maze of animals. It was like the plants had started growing from somewhere inside the store; their origins must have been placed in the back behind the front desk, because that was where they seemed to disappear.
There was someone bent over at the front, and a small cockatoo on a perch staring at him intently.
"Um…hello?" the person jumped to him, peering at him from behind large glasses. His hair was white and his face wrinkled, but his eyes were as bright as the stars. There was no doubting that this old man had a sharper mind than body.
"Ah, what can I do fer ye, sonny?" he asked shakily. He reached up a shaky, gnarled hand to push up his glasses to see him better. Harry made sure to be straight ahead of the old man, so as to help him out.
"Yes, I was hoping to get a familiar for my friend; she recently lost hers-"
"Then what are ye doing up here? Go look fer one!" he waved Harry crossly away, turning back to whatever he had been doing before Harry walked in. The white bird remained silent and vigilant, never taking his eyes off Harry. Harry blinked in surprise at the rough brush off, but complied anyway; best not get him riled up, so he wouldn't get himself kicked out.
He walked along the rows, checking back over his shoulder to see the pesky bird watching him like he was some sort of criminal, through a batch of bored looking toads, cats and owls. They were all either sleeping or ignoring him. Well, all except for one. A thin, gray, slightly fluffy cat watched his every move from its little corner. Its light charcoal markings ran in three spikes along its forehead and then along its back, circling its body over and over again. Its tail swung back and forth slowly with rings running down to its rounded end. Its eyes were a strange, beautiful turquoise, pupils dilated in hyper-vigilance, and there was a pink scar running along its cheek. It was very curious about him that was for certain. It was larger than a normal house cat, and clearly tougher. There was a calculating intelligence about it, and it seemed like it was analyzing everything he did in an instant.
He walked toward it and looked at the information sheet attached to the cage door. Unlike many of the others, there was a name written on the sheet, along with gender, species, age, shots; all the important stuff. This cat was a female, one-third bobcat, and it was only about three years old. It was up to date on shots. The best part was that her name was Athena – a perfect name. Athena was the goddess of war and wisdom – two things this seemed to have and have seen in abundance. She would be perfect.
Harry turned to walk toward the counter when a soft, inquisitive meow stopped him. He turned to cat to see Athena pawing at the lock. She wanted out.
Taking a chance, Harry undid the lock, making sure the grouchy old man wasn't watching, and pulled the door open. Athena peered over the edge before leaping gracefully out; she made no sound when he paws hit the ground. She rubbed her side against Harry's leg once, in thanks, most likely, before stalking toward the counter – like she knew she wasn't for Harry and therefore didn't make the effort to get used to him. That or she didn't care.
Harry followed the cat to the front desk. That damned cockatoo stared at him the whole way like a guard bird until Athena leapt onto the desk. It gave a startled squawk and fluttered its wings nervously. Its eyes bulged out of its head as it warily gazed at the creature it knew only as predator. Athena merely started to clean herself. However, Harry saw her pass an almost amused look to the bird before focusing back on her bath. He rolled his eyes.
This cat and Hermione would get along just fine.
The owner appeared seconds later, probably having heard his bird's distress.
"You-Why did you let her out?" He snapped. Athena looked up at the old man unblinkingly. He scowled at the beautiful cat and turned back to Harry with the same disdain.
"I want to buy her." Harry said flatly. This shopkeeper was really starting to get on his nerves. Pesky was a perfect name.
"Oh. Two hundred dollars."
"Alright." Harry sighed. He fished out the money from his back after announcing the amount. When their transaction was over, he turned away and left without further ado to the grumpy store clerk, although he did send a glare toward the cockatoo as he walked out. Athena followed close behind, keeping within at least a three inch distance from his legs.
Harry, pleased with his purchases, headed for Garrigon's.
Meanwhile…
Hermione browsed through the volumes along the shelf she'd found herself at, hefting two already –hers and Harry's Sigil Applications books. She was looking for her Palm Reading book, and Harry's Astragalomancy book. Next she would move on to look for her Runic Magic book and her Muggle History book…
A effeminate giggle startled her out of her reverie. She looked up and around, trying to find the source. Finally her eyes landed on a table in the far corner; there was a group of girls around it, giggling behind their hands at some boy who sat in the middle. She shifted so as not to be easily discernible from the book shelf as she tried to get a better look.
The boy looked about seventeen, as did all the occupants of the table. Inky black hair fell about his shoulders in a shaggy dark halo – like a dark-haired lion mane, her mind supplied. His hair seemed to suck the dim lighting into it instead of reflect it, it was so dark. Black bangs swept over his forehead and hung into a pair of the strangest eyes she had ever seen. They were a dark, deep red, so dark they were almost black – one could call them crimson, if one wanted. His pupils were virtually nonexistent; the black nearly melted into the irises. His skin was a pale mocha, really more of a caramel and contrasted nicely with the dark eyes and even darker hair; he was as exotic as they come, and she could tell there was something inherently not human about him; he had to be a magical creature.
From here she could see that he was tall, at least six inches taller than her. His gangly legs were propped up on the table in front of him and his hand was tucked under his chin; his mouth was quirked into a lazy smile, giving an air of ease that so few boys his age could achieve. It was clearly working with the women around him; they were practically fawning all over him and batting their eyelashes like there was something stuck in their eyes.
She rolled her eyes and turned back to the task at hand; if there was anything she was good at, it was not letting a pretty face distract her (and by Merlin, she had to admit he was one of the hottest guys she had ever seen).
The dark haired boy smirked at the humans around him, gushing about him and the upcoming school year at Caliber's.
Human women were so easy to manipulate.
Sure, he'd had his fair share of lovers – some he had actually cared for – but it was much more enjoyable to tease them into doing what he didn't have the energy to do. It was far less emotionally involved and despite the fact that he had cared about the others, they'd bitched about his less than energetic tendencies, and therefore he'd broken it off. Although, most of them had been of his kind, and therefore were a lot more picky and volatile than mortals; also a lot harder to catch, which was another reason he looked for his lovers in other species.
Recently, though, it was getting almost too easy, and he could feel himself getting bored; he needed a challenge – someone not so easy to get. He needed a girl who didn't immediately swoon at the sight of him. If only he could find someone…
The scent of disdain caught him and he glanced around the book store; it was coming from the back, near the Divination section. He caught sight of a girl, standing up on her tiptoes trying to reach a book. She finally grabbed it, and relaxed back into a normal stance, her face in the profile view. He could see that she was quite attractive, if one got past the frumpy clothes and bushy hair. Her skin was pale and unblemished, better than any girl he'd ever seen. She wasn't wearing any make-up and yet it seemed to glow with natural beauty. She far outshined any of the women around him. She had a crisp air of responsibility and detached attitude, like she could care less if the people here accepted her or not, and the fact that she hadn't come over to see him – he had a natural allure that drew in all but the strongest of women to him like moths to a flame – said she would be hard to go after.
There was something else different about her; he was sure he'd never seen her around here before. She had to be one of the new exchange students, the ones from Britain he'd heard about. She could pose quite a challenge…
He stood, making his way through the throng of protesting women, saying little placations to stop them from following him as he made his way to new girl.
Hermione shifted the stack of books in her arms and sifted through the titles to make sure she had everything. There were the first two, the Sigil Apps books, their divination books, her Muggle History books, Harry's alphabetical guide to magical creatures, an apparition book to help him-
"Are you sure you should be handling all of them yourself?" A deep, sultry voice came from behind her and startled her so bad she nearly dropped her stack. She spun around, straightening her load as she did, fully intent on enlightening whoever it was why they should not sneak up on her like that.
Her words died on her lips. It was the boy from before.
"Uh-what?" she asked, immediately blushing at her lame answer. She refused to reduce herself to the simpering lot she'd seen before.
"I said, are you sure you should be handling all of those books yourself? They seem sort of heavy." He offered a charmingly handsome smile, and she felt her mind cloud. She shook her head and reminded herself, firmly, that she was not here to gush over some boy she'd just met. Not after that disaster with Ron. She straightened herself up and shook her head.
"I'm fine, thank you; they're not that heavy." She smiled politely but nothing more. She would not encourage him. His smile turned wicked, and he had a strange mischievous glint to his eye; immediately she didn't like it. What was he thinking?
"Alright; if you're sure. What classes are you taking?" he grabbed the books from her before she could answer, reading the titles. He raised an impressed eyebrow at the list. "Dark Magic; interesting." He looked up at her with a smirk. "So, I heard you were smart."
"Yes, you could say that." She allowed herself a little smug smile. If there was anything she would brag about, it was her smarts. She planned on being the top student this year too, new school or not.
"Well, if you want the top spot, you're going to have to get through me." Hermione's smile disappeared and her eyes widened. He smirked at her expression. "See you at school, Ms. Granger; it'll be fun beating you." And with that he turned and walked away, leaving a stunned ex-Gryffindor in his wake. It took a few minutes for her to realize that he'd called her by her name, and hadn't offered his either, but the shock – and indignation, if she was being honest – of that was destroyed by her own competitive nature.
She shook her head and walked to the counter, passing him on the way there. He was back among his fan club. He sent her a little smirk, which she gladly returned. His brow raised and he turned back to the other women. She turned back to the counter, paid the right amount, and headed outside toward Garrigon's, a smirk on her face. She could feel the fires of competition rekindling – they'd lost their spark since fifth year, when she'd only had one rival, and that was Harry in Potions with Slughorn. It felt nice to finally have someone who could compete with her.
And as for him…it was so on.
Ok, so, I made their purchases much cheaper than in Britain; I just picked a random number for both.
Anyway, I just want to point out something – I didn't say his name on purpose. They're gonna meet him later on and get to know that and what kind of magical creature he is later (although, my beta figured it out, so you guys might too…)
Read and Review please!