We are so close to the 1,000 mark. Please fav and follow this work if you enjoy it, it would mean the world for me!
Chapter 121: Sword of Gryffindor
Coming down to the Great Hall the next morning, all eyes were on him as he entered the Hall. Without skipping a step or halting, Harry made his way over to the Hogwarts table and took his seat.
He wouldn't let the opinions of others dictate him, they could think whatever they want; good or bad. He will still be himself.
However, he did look in the direction of Seamus Finnigan, and Dean Thomas who flinched back in fear under his gaze. He knew it and they knew it that they were on thin ice with him, one more slip up and they would be joining their so called friend out the door.
It wasn't long before his friends joined him, and he was glad he made acquaintances like them. They at least knew how to be supportive of him and have his back when he needed it the most.
"So if you didn't enter your name into the goblet then who did?" Hermione wondered out loud, he could see that question had her up all night as she must have been mulling over it.
"Isn't it obvious," Harry pointed out, "Moody or should I say Barty Jr. who had been pretending to be Alastor Moody."
"That does make sense," Susan nodded her head.
"But why? Why would he put your name in? Did you somehow think you would die for him in the tournament?" Daphne asked. "It just doesn't make sense, he could have done it himself. That would have been so much easier."
"Well there have been a lot of people that died in the tournament, so it is a toss of the dice really," Angelina pointed out as she along with Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet who were all part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team took their seats.
"Beats me," Harry lied as he shrugged his shoulders. He really didn't want them to start knowing that Voldermort sent Barty Jr here and he must have been the one who told him to put his name into the goblet.
It was clear Voldermort had something planned, someway in which he planned to collect his blood. Harry did not know if that plan was still in motion since he did uncover his secret operative in the school and ferreted him out of his hiding hole.
However he needed to be prepared, already he had started doing some research in this resurrection method Voldermort had cooked up. He was already looking for ways to counteract it and somehow mess up this ritual.
There was no way he wanted to see Voldermort come back to his full strength, he already saw that the psycho was too much to handle in his weakened state. What would happen if he was back to the hight of his power... nothing good really.
Just then Harry noticed Professor McGonagall making her way to him and from the anger in her eyes he could see that she must have found out about what happened yesterday.
"Mr. Potter," she called out as she came to stand before him, "by Merlin's beard, boy, what did you do?"
"What do you mean, Professor McGonagall?" Harry asked innocently, he knew he would have to face the music sooner or later about what he did last night. However, he still stood by his decision.
Ron did not belong in Gryffindor nor has he ever shown the qualities that are found in the house. He has always been a jealous git without two brain cells to even rub together. He did not know why he did not see it, but it was most likely because he was a vulnerable child who grew up in an abusive home and latched on to the first sign of friendship.
Nevertheless now his eyes were open and you could say he was getting all the love and much more than ever before and he could clearly see a person's character now without that desperation from before.
"Don't play innocent with me," Professor McGonagall snapped at him as she scowled. "Why... no how did you even do it?" she asked, getting to the question that must have bugged her.
"Oh, you mean how did I effectively remove him from Gryffindor's house?" Harry smiled as he held out his Lordship ring to her and it flashed to the Gryffindor's coat of arms. "Well I am heir to the founder of Gryffindor so it is one of my powers."
"You... you..." she tried to say, but the older woman kept on looking down at his ring with disbelief written all over her face. Finally, she uttered clearly, "I did hear from the other students what went down... but I just couldn't believe it," she whispered.
Then shaking her head to get rid of her stupefaction she turned to look at him with stern eyes, if there was one thing he could give Professor McGonagall then it was she did not give a shit who you were. She treated everyone equally and that was what he liked about her.
Still he did wish she showed him some of that favoritism she had been giving him all year to, somehow in her mind, make up for all the failing she thought she held for his childhood.
"You young man," she waved her hand at him, "are in deep trouble. I do not care if you have the power to kick and bring in whoever you wish into Gryffindor. Nor do I care if you are the bloody heir to Godric Gryffindor!" she shouted at the top of her lungs causing everyone to stare in her direction as she gave him a tongue lashing.
"If you have a problem you come to me. Now Ron Weasley lays in the hospital ward under Poppy's care because you sent him through a fricking wall. What were you thinking young man?" she asked him.
Flinching back in ghost pain, Harry sort of felt bad for that, in his anger he really didn't think through that. He had no plan in harming Ron as he didn't see himself as a bully and despised them with all his being since he had after all suffered at their hands. All he wanted to do was teach Ron a valuable lesson, Never fuck with him or what is his!
"Now you will be seeing the Headmaster this evening who will decide your punishment! Am I understood!"
"Yes, Ma'am," Harry nodded his head as he did not want to anger the witch any more than where she was at right now.
"Good," she said and then added in a low tone that only he could hear, "I am disappointed in you, Harry. I thought you would rise better than this."
Looking down at his plate and feeling a bit of shame, Harry steeled himself and turned to look at her. "I stand by my decision, Professor McGonagall and don't regret it. If I had a chance to do it all over again, I would do it."
Sighing, Professor McGonagall stood up and parted with, "So be it!"
If Harry had thought that matters would improve once everyone got used to the idea of him being champion, the following day showed him how mistaken he was.
He could not avoid the rest of the school and it was clear that he would have to face the music. There were some who of course thought he had entered himself for the tournament fools as they might be there were quite a few of them. Others who had some doubts looked at him with unsure expressions, and Harry was very glad to see he had a lot of people on his side to even things out.
They each had a variety of emotions from pity to support, but they all where on his side of the camp.
The Ravenclaws were their usual indifferent selves who really couldn't care less with all that was going on except for the book up their faces. It clearly had nothing to do with them as they had no skin in the game since the champions weren't from their house, so they were their usual selves.
The Gryffindors were of course all a jubilant bunch, Harry had shown during the Hogwarts Dueling tournament that he was the most powerful student in the school. So they knew they had a chance in winning this thing. Plus he had the odd feeling that he was now being treated like royalty.
Colin and a bunch of other Gryffindors would follow around him all day using if he needed anything or wanted something down. It really started to make him regret showing that he was the heir to Godric Gryffindor.
The Hufflepuffs, on the other hand, where a whole nother matter, they were usually on excellent terms with the Gryffindors as they were always close allies. Now however they had turned remarkably cold toward the whole lot of them. One Herbology lesson was enough to demonstrate this.
It was plain that the Hufflepuffs felt that Harry had stolen their champion's glory; a feeling exacerbated, perhaps, by the fact that Hufflepuff House very rarely got any glory, and that Cedric was one of the few who had ever given them any. Ernie Macmillan and Justin Finch Fletchley, with whom Harry normally got on very well, did not talk to him even though they were working together at the same table — though they did laugh rather unpleasantly when one of the plants a Bouncing Bulbs wriggled free from Harry's grip and smacked him hard in the face.
Harry was a bit glad to see Professor Sprout on his side as she gave a stern warning to her house. She knew the weight of the magical vow he took and didn't doubt it validity.
He would have been looking forward to seeing Hagrid under normal circumstances, but Care of Magical Creatures meant seeing the Slytherins too — the first time he would come face-to-face with them since becoming champion.
Predictably, Malfoy arrived at Hagrid's cabin with his familiar sneer firmly in place. "Ah, look, boys, it's the champion," he said to Crabbe and Goyle the moment he got within earshot of Harry.
"Got your autograph books? Better get a signature now, because I doubt he's going to be around much longer after all the Triwizard champions have died in the games. How long do you reckon you're going to last, Potter? Ten minutes into the first task's my bet."
Crabbe and Goyle guffawed sycophantically out loud at Malfoy's joke, Harry thought about doing the same thing he did to Ron towards Draco. But it wasn't worth it, and he really couldn't be revealing too much of his hand as of yet.
"I am surprised to see you, Draco," Harry smiled at pompous ass.
"How so?" the boy asked as he narrowed his eyes at him, clearly not liking the cheerful expression on his face.
"I thought daddy dearest would ship you off to some corner of the word to hide the family shame, you know with you being a bastard and all, after your mother got kicked out of her family."
"Why you little..." the little ass begin to scream as his face turned beat red and he clenched his fist, but before he could react properly Hagrid walked in and class was on its way.
Throughout the period, he caught Draco staring at him with pure venom in his gaze and all Harry did was return a cheeky smile which seem to anger him even more.
After class was over, Harry couldn't help himself as he walked past Draco and whispered to him. "Don't think about doing anything funny, Malfoy. I am after all your better now with you now being a bastard and me your superior as a half-blood."
When the day was mostly over, Harry got his reminder from Professor McGonagall to go see Dumbledore and with a sigh, after dinner, he headed to the old man's office. He really hated meeting with the old man, every time they broke into a conversation it was like they were playing 5-D chess as Harry had to maneuver and turn to avoid being caught off guard.
He was greeted at the door by the two gargoyles who opened the door from him allowing him to enter. Walking inside he saw Dumbledore tending to Fawkes, the fiery bird seem to be on the road to recover. His wing had a coat of some medicinal herbs plastered on it as slowly some sort of green liquid dripped out of its body and on to the ground.
"Hey, Fawkes, doing alright?" Harry greeted the bird who chirped back to him in answer.
"He is doing fine," the old man answered as he rubbed the bird's head. "He is on the road to recovery and will soon be able to spread his wings."
"That's good to hear," Harry nodded his head.
"Please take a seat," the old man said as he pointed to the chair opposite him as he took his own. Doing so, the old man begin, "We still haven't been able to located Voldermort, I fear he has fled beyond this country at this point."
"That is not good," Harry shook his head, he didn't tell the old man that he and Sirous were following their own leads which they were able to make Peter spill. He didn't want the old man to start raising some questions, he will only tell him when they turn something out. As for now, he would be keeping the headmaster in the dark about the fact they have Peter deep within the Black family dungeons.
"Yes, well we do have some good news, the mysterious lady turns out to be called Nagini and just as I feared she was a Maledictus. She is very thankful for being cured and would love nothing more than to meet you, her savior."
"I would love that," Harry nodded his head. "Was she able to give any valuable information on Voldermort?"
"No, Amelia interview her and she got nothing. The poor woman was overtaken by the beast she became. She was effectively just a snake one that Voldermort experimented on heavily. Thankfully you and Fawkes cured her and rid her off all the taint in her."
"We were more in line of ending the thing she was, but I am glad this outcome,"Harry admitted.
"A Dragon and Phoenix working in tandem is indeed very miraculous. They are know to vanquish evil and bring about prosperity," the old man revealed. Then peering at him with sparkling eyes turning sharp, the old man continued, "It comes to me as a great surprise that your animagus form is that of a Dragon, and if I am correct it can be classified in the Great Wyrm category."
Yea it must have given the old bastard a heartattack to find out he could achieve such a powerful form. Smiling and acting humble, Harry admitted, "It was all Sirius really, he was able to help be achieve it, it seems like he and my father found a way to achieve a magical creature animagus form."
Then quickly changing the topic on the old man, he asked innocently, "What is your animagus form, Headmaster. I am sure someone of your abilities was able to do it long time ago." It was a small test really, he admitted his form so it was common to return the favor.
Pausing, the old man smiled, and admitted, "Mine is that of a Unicorn."
'So gay,' Harry thought, but outwardly he uttered, "A Unicorn that is indeed a... mightly form!"
"Yes now moving on the reason why we are here," the old man nodded his head, finally stop dancing around the subject. "Why didn't you tell me you were the heir to Godric Gryffindor?"
Not expecting that question, Harry was caught unaware and took a moment to pause and think his response over. The old bastard was really a sly one, but Harry kept his head, "Ahh that," he said as if it were only just a little thing. "I just found out about this summer."
Nodding his head, the old goat admitted, "I did always have my suspicion that the Potter line might be connected in some way or form to the Gryffindor. But I never had it proven until today," he said as he looked at him.
"O, it was the Sword of Gryffindor that told me," Harry shrugged his shoulder. "Can't only the heirs to Gryffindor wield it?" he asked naively.
"Mmm," the old man muttered, "you are correct. Why didn't I... O, well," he sighed as he waved off whatever he must have been thinking.
"About that, could I have it back," Harry suddenly asked out of the blue.
Chapter 122: Wand Weighing
"O, it was the Sword of Gryffindor that told me," Harry shrugged his shoulder. "Can't only the heirs to Gryffindor wield it?" he asked naively.
"Mmm," the old man muttered, "you are correct. Why didn't I... O, well," he sighed as he waved off whatever he must have been thinking.
"About that, could I have it back," Harry suddenly asked out of the blue. Looking at the Sorting Hat which rested on the shelf behind the old man's desk, it looked like it was asleep, he did try to converse with it when he was alone here, but it didn't respond at all for some reason even though he was now the Hogwarts Heir now.
If Harry had to guess the old man must have done something to the Sorting Hat, he wouldn't put past the old man anything.
There was so much inconsistency with the Sorting hat, people going to houses that they don't belong in. It was like it wasn't doing its one job properly which was sorting each new student into their proper house.
There were many people he could think that went to houses that they didn't belong in. Those that came to the top of his mind where; Herminioe who clearly belonged to Ravenclaw, yes, she was brave there was no denying that, however where she belonged was obviously the raven nest.
And the list just goes on; Neville who fit perfectly in Hufflepuff, yes, he was slowly finding that bravery he had in him but his Hufflepuff traits of kindness, compassion, and loyalty outshined everything else.
Then of course there were Ron and Draco who just didn't belong in their houses, a proper reason couldn't be just because their family always went into those houses. He was sure Ron belonged in Slytherin and he only showed the bad traits of that house with no cunning, leadership, and resourcefulness in him at all. All he really had was ambition that he did not know how to focus.
And Draco he would have put him into Hufflepuff just to mess with him. However to be honest that pompous ass didn't have the qualities found in that house. Really he fit in none and Harry believed that was the issue with the four house system, everyone who didn't fit in the other three houses always got thrown into Hufflepuff.
Turned back to look at the old man with a smile on his face, he was daring him to deny him his right.
"About that..." the old man hesitated, clearly not expecting his demand with the way he looked unsure how to really respond.
Putting pressure on him, Harry didn't want him to slip out of this like he always does. "That sword belongs to my house, Headmaster, it was only left in the company of the school until the next heir comes."
"Yes, I understand my boy," the old goat smiled kindly to him. "However this weapon is a very powerful artifact. I hate to say it, but I am not sure you can carry this burden."
Snoring out loud as he couldn't hold himself back from laughing right in the old bastard's face, Dumbledore stared at him as if he just lost his mind as he bent over in a belly laugh.
Wiping the tear on the corner of his eye, Harry held out a hand, "I am sorry, Headmaster, but that was just the funniest thing you have ever said."
"How so?" the powerful wizard asked as he furrowed his busy eyebrows in confusion, really not understanding where he was coming from. "I am not kidding, my boy, this is something that comes with so much complications and problems that I do not believe you are able to handle yet."
"But weren't you the one who gave me my family's invisibility cloak in my first year?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow. "We both know how that sort of thing could get to a child's head, but you still believed that I was able to handle it. So please tell me how is this any different?"
"I... I.." the old man faltered, with really nothing to say.
"Exactly," Harry said seeing the old man tongue tied, "and I would argue that I am now more mature. So I can handle it, Headmaster, you don't have to worry yourself about it."
Seeing that he always had the old bastard as he looked at the hat for a long moment, Harry knew he had to put one more pressure on him. It was a risky move, but if he wanted to get the sword, he guessed it was the only option left for him.
"I do believe you are already in enough trouble with the Wizengamot, Headmaster for you know... Do you think it would be wise to add the withhold of a child's inheritance?"
That seem to freeze the old wizard in place as he slowly then turned to take him in. Returning tick for thought, Harry didn't shy away and then finally at long last the old man got up and brought the sorting hat over.
"Hat, please awaken!" the old man called out as slowly the hat began to stir. With his Magic Sight, Harry saw that there seem to be a trap holding the hat inactive and the old bastard words must have been the activation words to awaken it.
Watching closely, it wasn't long before the hat was awake and it spoke up grumpily, "What do you want you old coot?" it asked.
"We require the sword," Dumbledore answered simply.
"Ha," the hat laughed, "you will never get that you bastard. Only the heir of Godric can wield it, better wish in the next life you are born as the long last heir of House Gryffindor."
From its tone, Harry could clearly see that there was no love lost between the two of them at all.
"If you want you could try," the hat added slyly, "but I believe you learned your lesson once. Or maybe you forgot about it thanks to your old age."
"I do not wish the sword for myself," the old man sighed, then turning the hat around to face him. Dumbledore spoke up, "Meet the new of House Gryffindor, Harry Potter."
"Harry is that you, really?" the hat asked as it squinted at him.
"Yes, it has been quite a while since we meet," he smiled at the old batty artifact which was thousands of years old that it was able to form the spark needed for consciousness.
"I came to claim my birthright," he nodded respectfully to the hat.
Narrowing its eyes it looked at him and back at Dumbledore, "are you really sure it isn't this old bastard influencing you?"
"I only required it to fight against Voldermort," the old wizard sighed.
"Ha, as if I would believe it," the hat uttered, "more like you wanted to keep it for yourself."
"Now that is not true..." the old man sternly spoke up.
"That is not the case, Hat," Harry cut in, "I know how this works. The sword belongs to me unless I give it freely to another."
"Good," it said as it hopped in place, "now I believe you know how to draw it out already since you have done so in the past."
"Yes," Harry nodded his head as he got up and put his hand inside the gaping black hole, he wondered what other items were inside of it. The hat was here since the formation of the school and he was pretty sure it had a massive spatial storage ability.
Quickly his finger touched on a very familiar red ruby jewel, and Harry grabbed the handle and pulled out the Sword of Gryffindor.
It was still as beautiful as the day he pulled it out in the chamber of secrets to battle the basilisk.
Fashioned from pure silver, it is inset with rubies, the stone that represents Gryffindor in the hour-glasses that count the house points at Hogwarts. Godric Gryffindor's name is engraved just beneath the hilt.
"Magnificent," Harry heard Dumbledore whisper.
Breaking his eye from it, Harry quickly stored the weapon in his lordship ring, and smiled at the old man, "Thank you, Headmaster. You too hat."
"No problem," the old man said. "Now on to you kicking out Ronald Weasley from Gryffindor."
"Oh, that, what about it," Harry shrugged his shoulders.
From the side, he could see the hat laughing and wheezing as it asked, "You really did that, hahaha! He deserves that, never did belong there."
"You can't do that..." the old man began however Harry quickly cut him off.
"I think I can, Headmaster and I already did."
"That is not what I mean," the old man said sternly, "It doesn't matter if you have the power or authority it is not something that should in the periphery of a student."
"Actually, Headmaster, as the heir to Godric it is my solemn duty to see that only those who show characteristics of my house can enter. As we both know Ron does not the traits of courage, chivalry, and determination."
"Then I recommend you rethink it, my boy," the old man emphasized.
"No' Harry shook his head, "I stand by my section and will not be wishy washy. Ron does not BELONG in Gryffindor. It was a mistake putting him there."
"It wasn't my decision," the hat pointed out as he glowered at the old man, "it was all his."
"I... i had to honor traditions," the old man voiced.
"Well I don't care," Harry said, "I recommend you resort him and this time put him in his correct house." With that, Harry turned around and headed out, from behind him Dumbledore kept on calling his name but Harry didn't turn around from his stride.
Walking up the next morning, Harry was glad he had Hermione right there besides him to comforting him at the start of his day.
Resting her hand on his shoulder, she whispered as she gave him a kiss, "It is going to be alright, okay. You got this tournament in the bag."
"Thanks," Harry smiled at her, but he didn't mention to her what his real worry was all about, what Voldermort had cooked up.
When he and Hermione arrived at downstairs into the Great Hall for breakfast, they found a few Slytherins wearing a large badge on the front of his or her robes.
Taking a second glance at them saw that they all bore the same message, in luminous red letters that burnt brightly: Support Cedric Diggory, the real Hogwarts Champion!
"Like them, Potter?" Draco asked loudly as he approached him along with his two followers.
"And this isn't all they do — look!" He pressed his badge into his chest, and the message upon it vanished, to be replaced by another one, which glowed green: Potter Stinks!
The Slytherins he most likely bribed to put on those badges howled with laughter.
Each of them pressed their badges too, until the message Potter Stinks was shining brightly all around Harry.
"Oh very funny," Hermione said sarcastically to them, coming to his defense.
"Ignore them," Harry shook his head as he helped her take a seat. "Very ingenious of you, Malfoy. Only a three year old could come up with that. What's next; Harry smells of poppy?!" he barked out in laughter to which plenty of Gryffindor joined in.
"Why you little..." Draco tried to begin as his face turned beat red, Harry really had no idea why even did it if he couldn't handle a few burns. Before he could get anything out, Professor McGonagall walked up to him.
"Mr. Potter, today you have the Wand Weighing at 2 o'clock sharp for all champions, be there right on..." slowly she cut off as she looked at what Draco and his close allies in Slytherin where wearing.
"What is that?" she asked as her eyes narrowed on them.
"Nothing," Draco quickly said trying to hide the damning evidence.
"Don you think I am blind Mr. Malfoy," the woman asked in a sharp tone. "Give it here," she said as he flicked her wand and the badge came floating to her.
Reading it her face slowly turned dark, turning to look at Draco and the Slytherins who were quickly trying to hide their badges she asked, "Is this what Professor Dumbledore meant when he said support your school champion, mhm?"
"Well he isn't any champion of ours, he cheated to get inside," Draco complained as he pointed his finger at him.
"Do you not even know what a magical vow is you, stupid boy? What have your parents being teaching you."
"I... I..." he tried to say, obviously he knew what a magical vow was but he was just acting like a belligerent asshole.
"I will have a word with your parents and ask them if they hired the proper tutors for you and I will have a word with your head of house, Professor Sna-... I mean Professor Vector. She will be giving you the proper punishment."
"It's alright, Professor McGonagall," Harry spoke up, "I don't know if you have heard but there was a ruling recently on the use of my name and imagines, anyone who uses it will have to pay the price I ask for. I wouldn't mind collecting from Lucius Malfoy the fees for his son using my name."
Looking at Draco with a smile, he voiced vindictively, "Make sure you count all the badges you made I wouldn't want to over estimate on you."
If he knew the idiot, then he must have made use of his family's assets to get hundreds if not thousands of them badges made, charging Lucius 10 galleons wouldn't be too unreasonable and could net him a nice bit of profit.
Going ass white in the face as the idiot looked about to faint when he heard what he said, Harry knew he was right. However it would only be much later would he find out how bad Draco fucked up.
"Alright then," Professor McGonagall nodded her head, "and remember Mr Potter be there at 2 o'clock sharp for your wand weighing
Walking into the agreed upon location for the tournament ceremony, Harry saw that some of the champions have arrived with others most likely on their way. Bagman spotted Harry first, got up quickly, and bounded towards him.
"Ah, here he is! Champion number 12! Come in, Harry, come in... there nothing to worry about, it's just the wand weighing ceremony, the rest of the judges will be here in a moment."
"Yes, I can hardly wait," Harry smiled.
"Don't worry, the expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet.."
He was not in the least bit surprised to see Rita here she was like a hound when it came to the best and latest news.
"Maybe not that small, Ludo," said Rita Skeeter as her eyes looked anywhere expect on him.
"I wouldn't mind doing a piece," Harry shrugged his shoulder, better to get ahead of the news and put his twist on it than to have people spreading lies about him.
"Sounds like a excellent idea," Ludo beamed, "this one is a juicy one Rita, the youngest champion, you know... to add a bit of color!"
"Yes," she said as she gave a smile that really didn't touch her eyes, "I would love to hear the opinion of a such a noble and vaunted young hero."
"Good," Ludo said, "I will leave you two to it," with that he headed off.
Once the two of them were alone they were able to put down their fasade, "What would you like me to put in tomorrow's news?" Rita broke the silence first, deferring to him as she had been when he got her into his employee.
"Just put in I am either being tried to be assassinated or that the Goblet went haywire and magically produced my name. None would believe the latter since the Goblet has been working perfectly fine for thousands of years, so it could only be the former.
"And you know add your usual flare, he swore before everyone in the Great Hall a solemn magical vow with genuine fervent. Wow them, pump them up and rile them up like you usually do, I do not need to tell you how to do your job.
"And add he will face these coming trials with all the people of Magical Britain in heart, that should endear them to me some more."
At that moment Dumbledore came up to them with someone behind him.
"Dumbledore!" cried Rita Skeeter, with every appearance of delight, "How are you?" she said, holding a hand out to Dumbledore. "I hope you saw my piece about the International Confederation of Wizards' Conference?"
"Enchantingly nasty," said Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat. A great disgrace to Magical Britain, a big fat sham."
Rita Skeeter didn't look remotely abashed at all as she didn't even blink an eye. "Well I think your handling of Mr. Potter could have used some more care," she shrugged her shoulders. "His suffering is on you."
"Well, we can discuss that another time, I would need my student to begin the ceremony."
"Yes, yes, go ahead, I have all I need."
Check out pa/ treon, I am 25 chapters ahead!
Chapter 123: Magical Foci
Getting back to the gathering with Dumbledore, Harry saw that everyone was there; including champions and schoolmasters.
There were seats laid out for everyone and Harry took one as Dumbledore addressed the gathered group.
"May I introduce to you all, Mr. Ollivander?" Dumbledore pronounced, taking his place alongside the other headmasters and mistresses table and talking to the champions. "He will be checking your wands and other magical foci to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."
Harry looked around, and with a jolt of surprise saw an old wizard with large, pale eyes standing quietly by the window. Harry had met Mr. Ollivander before, a very long time ago when he was s new student and he was the wand-maker from whom Harry had bought his own wand from over three years ago in Diagon Alley.
"You don't have to worry," the old man smiled, "he is well versed in not only our European wands but nearly all major magical foci used around the world. So there is no one better to undertake this task."
"Greetings," the old wizard inclined his head to everyone as he stepped forward once Dumbledore was finished introducing him. "It has indeed been a very long time since some one from the Ollivander family has been able to be responsible for the magical tool weighing ceremony of the Triwizard tournament! It is an honor for house Ollivander to have this privilege again."
A small round of applause echoed in the chamber as everyone gave a few polite claps.
"Your royal highness, could we have you first, please?" the old man bowed to the Russian princess.
Getting up and walking over to the old wizard, she summoned her magical tool and handed it over. Harry saw that Mr. Ollivander held a Scepter in his hand.
All around the world wizards and witches from different parts of the use distinct types of magical implements. The reason is because anything could be a magical tool to help you cast magic; all magical tools are just a focus and at its core, a magical focus is essentially a lens for magic. A focus gathers magic from the world around the caster and directs the energy into a spell.
A focus does not in itself perform magic, and a practitioner does not necessarily need a focus in order to work magic, but it makes it easier for a practitioner to perform a spell.
Many wizards and witches have found unique and interesting foci, and a wizard's foci can often be very personal, chosen for their own reasons. You don't have to just use a wand like most European wizards and witches do so there is a vast diversity of them everywhere.
Scepter are very close cousins to wands, unlike wands who make use of magical creatures parts for cores a scepter on the other hand uses a gem or crystal.
"A Khalni Gem, how very rare indeed," the old wandmaker whispered as he turned the Scepter in his hand to which it let out a flurry of snowflakes. "They only form once every 10,000 years!"
"Yes, daddy alvays says only the best forr the royal line!"
"Hmmm, very powerful," the wandmaker noted as he gave the scepter a few more tries, once he was done he handed it back. "Everything seems in order."
"Mademoiselle Delacour, could you come up, please?" Mr. Ollivander turned to the mixed breed girl, once Catherine took her seat.
Fleur Delacour swept over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him her wand.
"Hmmm," the old man mused as he peered at the wand. He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully.
"Yes," he said quietly, "nine and a half inches... inflexible... rosewood... and containing... dear me..."
"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," Fleur declared as she crossed her hand over her chest defensively. "One of my grandmuzzer's, she is the Leader of the French Coven of Veela."
So his little theory has been proven correct, Harry mused, Fleur is part veela, Harry thought.
"Yes," said Mr. Ollivander, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands... however, to each his own I say, and it would seem that it rather suits you."
Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, "Orchideous!" and a bunch of flowers burst from the wand tip.
"Very well, very well, it's a fine working wand," Mr. Ollivander nodded his head, finally acquiescing.
"Mr. Turner would you like to come up next?"
James Turner got and handed his strange contraption to the old wizard, if Harry had to make a guess it looked like a rod.
Rod unlike most wands which use wood as the body are all made of metals and for cores, they use crystals and gems like scepters.
"It is a very strange magical foci," the old wandmaker uttered hesitantly, unsure what else to say.
"I myde it myself," the young Australian wizard smiled brightly. "I myde use of the Firaxite Alloy for the body..." with that he quickly went into great detail about the rod, describing every little tiny detail.
Cutting him off, the old man smiled at the artificer wizard, "Well it looks perfectly fine to my son. Now go ahead and take your seat."
"But... but I have told you about the..." he tried to say, but Ollivander quickly turned to Tang Zhou.
"Could you come up Mr. Zhou."
Taking the offered magical foci, the old wizard smiled, "Yes, the old Chinese magical foci, the Talisman. Did you know this was the first magical foci created?" he asked the young Chinese wizard.
"I didn't, but thank you for parting your wisdom to me," the wizard bowed his head.
Giving it a test run, ancient large symbols appeared in the air which seem to care an insurmountable weight.
"Looks alright to me," the wandmaker nodded his head as he handed back the talisman.
"Mr. Krum, if you please."
Viktor Krum got up and slouched, round-shouldered and duckfooted, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust out his wand and stood scowling, with his hands in the pockets of his robes.
"Hmm," said Mr. Ollivander, "this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I would go with.. nevertheless fine work..."
He lifted the wand and examined it minutely, turning it over and over before his eyes.
"Hmm, hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" he shot Krum a look who nodded his head. "Rather thicker than one usually sees... quite rigid... ten and a quarter inches... Avis!"
The hornbeam wand let off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.
"Good," said Mr. Ollivander, handing Krum back his wand. There wasn't much to be said of wands as most wizards and witches know of them very well they make use of two compounds the body and the core.
The body of the wand is mostly made of wood but in some cases metal or even other objects and the core makes use of a magical creature. Nowadays wizards only make use of magical beasts but before harvesting magical beings were fair game, but over the years after many revolts, wizards have slowly started to change their ways.
"Mr. Abbassid please come forward."
Coming forward, the young Arab wizard reached towards his neck and unclasped a necklace... no an Amulet.
Amulets were the choice magical foci of most Middle Eastern and North African wizards and witches. They were close to Tailsmen to the talisman that most Chinese wizards used though they had their differences.
Amulets focus on the centerpiece, the stone in the center. The body and chain is important but it is all in the stone.
"It is made of quicksilver, correct?" the old wizard looked up from the amulet he was focusing on.
"Yes, sir," the Jordan champion nodded his head.
"And Abonx cat eye if I am correct," he mused as he stared at the black stone which looked like a cat's eye that gave its name. He uttered a word and before they knew it flames, bright red flames exploded out which quickly disappeared.
"Yes to that as well, sir, you sure do know your stuff, Mr. Ollivander."
"I try to be well read, my boy," he said as he handed back the amulet.
"Ms. Sinopa if you could come up," Mr. Ollivander called out to the native American girl.
Handing over her staff like magical foci, Harry took notice of it immediately, it was after all a Totem. They were rare most North American wizards from American and Canada use the good old fashion wand, but there are the old magical foci that the native American wizards and witches use.
Unlike wands these things have a very long and ancient history, a totem is a sacred object that serves as a symbol of a group of people, such as a family, clan, lineage, or tribe. They are very difficult to make as they need to be seeped in spiritual energy, but the outcome is worth it.
Ollivander seem to also think that as he stared at the object in reverie, "Is this really..." he tried to ask but couldn't form the words as he ran his fingers over the object lovingly.
"Yes, it is one of my tribes' totems, my sister has the main one," he nodded her head to the Headmaster of Ilvermorny.
Staring at the two of them back and forth, Harry just couldn't believe he couldn't see the similarities. Both of them were indeed like sisters, and he only felt better when the other champions stared between them.
"I would love to learn the history of this totem, maybe one day you can tell me all about," the old man smiled as he handed back the magical foci right after he gave it a test run and saw that it was working perfectly alright when autumn leaves started drifting down when he spoke a command word.
"It would be my please," Sinopa responded.
"Mr. Diggory, you next."
"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" Mr. Ollivander mused with much more enthusiasm compared to the other items he handled today, as Cedric handed over his wand. And who can blame him all craftmen have a deep love for their creation.
"Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn... must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches.. ash.. pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition. . . . You treat it regularly?"
"Polished it last night," Cedric grinned.
Harry looked down at his own wand, Dobby was kind enough to clean it regularly for him but thanks to all the use he put it through this year it was a bite worn out. He could see finger marks all over it, and stains of blood and sweat which must have fallen on it in the heat of battles.
He gathered a fistful of robe from his knee and tried to rub it clean surreptitiously. Several gold sparks shot out of the end of it and Fleur Delacour who was seated right next to him gave him a very patronizing look, and he just smiled and gave her a playful winked at her as he continued his action but in a very slow and sensual manner.
What was the issue with a man giving the old wand a 'brush.'
She immediately blushed and snapped her head away while he silently chuckled to himself.
Mr. Ollivander sent a stream of silver smoke rings across the room from the tip of Cedric's wand, pronounced himself satisfied, and then said, "Good, good."
With that he handed it back and turned to Hinako Miya, "Why don't you come up, Ms. Miya."
Hopping off her seat, the perky young witch handed over the katana that seem too big for her over to Mr. Ollivander. Immediately once he took it he nearly feel over, but was able to with a lot of effort right himself, "Quite, heavy, huh," he smiled at the Japanese witch.
"Sorry, Sir," she blushed, "I.. I should have told you."
"It is alright dear," the old wizard said, "this must be the only things that must feel right in you physical augment wizard's hands."
"Yes," Hinako nodded her head, "normal swords are too light almost like a feather in our hands."
"That's spell blades for you," the wandmaker said as he pointed the sword tip with great difficulty at the wall and a ball appeared and bounced off the all.
"Seems good to me," the old wizard declared as he seem relieved to have it out of his hands.
"Ms. Jasmine, please," he called out to the dark skinned girl.
She came over and handed a book over to the wandmaker who flipped it in his hands back to cover. "A spell grimoire my how long has it been since I held one in my hand."
The spell grimoires were what family grimoires were based on, the idea comes to great families of old to store their knowdgle in a grimoire when they saw these magical foci.
A spell grimoire does one thing, store spells so that you can use them on the demand. That might sound a bit too foolish since you were limiting yourself, but this is why African wizards are always the ones who master wandless magic.
Doing a spell over and over again until it just became memory is the key to learning wandless magic. And that is the edge most African wizards have, they must have cast that spell numerous times so the process became so much easier for them unlike other wizards who cast on the spot whatever comes to mind.
Testing it and seeing that it was working perfectly, the old wizard called out on Sílvia Senna.
When she came up all she did was hold out her hand.
"Ahh, Magic tattoos," the wand maker voiced as he peered at the Latin American witch's arms. "Who did them for you?" he asked.
"My father," she answered as they were in for a surprise again as he pointed to the Headmaster of Castelobruxo.
"They are very well done," the old wizard voice, "of course that is expected of our vaunted Headmaster."
"Mh, he made me do most of it," the feisty witch waved her head back.
"Excellent, could you give me a demonstration?" he asked since he couldn't do it himself.
Watching her concentrate, her tattoos quickly light up, and then the growl of a tiger echoed in the room as a ghostly apparition of the creature appeared before them.
"Well done, well done," the old wizard clapped his hands. "Now we only have... Mr. Potter," he declared as he turned to face Harry with his pale eyes.
Getting up, Harry handed over his wand. "Aaaah, yes," Mr. Ollivander smiled as his pale eyes suddenly gleaming. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember it." Harry could remember too. He could remember it as though it had happened yesterday...
Four summers ago, on his eleventh birthday, he had entered Mr. Ollivander's shop with Hagrid to buy a wand. Mr. Ollivander had taken his measurements and then started handing him wands to try. Harry had waved what felt like every wand in the shop, until at last he had found the one that suited him — this one, which was made of holly, eleven inches long, and contained a single feather from the tail of a phoenix.
Mr. Ollivander had been very surprised that Harry had been so compatible with this wand. "Curious," he had said, "curious," and not until Harry asked what was curious had Mr. Ollivander explained that the phoenix feather in Harry's wand had come from the same bird that had supplied the core of Lord Voldemort's.
Harry had never shared this piece of information with anybody except with Sirius recently. He was very fond of his wand, and as far as he was concerned its relation to Voldemort's wand was something it couldn't help — just as he couldn't help being related to Aunt Petunia.
Mr. Ollivander spent much longer examining Harry's wand than anyone else's. Eventually, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Harry.
"It is in perfect condition, a bit worn made. However, do you have the feeling that it doesn't fit perfectly anymore in your hands?"
"Yes," Harry slowly nodded his head, he did get the feeling that he was recently growing apart from his wand. As if it might have worked for the old him, but for the new him...
"I see," the old man nodded his head as a smile spread across his face.
"What is the problem, Ollivander?" Dumbledore asked.
"Nothing, nothing," the old wizard shook his head, "just that Harry has outgrown his wand and they aren't compatible anymore."
"Really?" Harry asked as he looked down at his wand, they really have been through a lot, but he guessed he just changed too much and his wand won't be coming with him through his next journey in life.
"Then what are we to do?"Dumbledore asked, as his bushy eyebrows furrowed. "He needs to compete next month in the first trial, and if his wand isn't working properly..."
"You my boy," the wandmaker said as he turned to face him, "need a new wand."
Scepter: pin/449163762828003129/
Fleur's wand: wiki/Fleur_Delacour%27s_wand?file=
Rod: pin/316800155013599977/
Vicktor's wand: . ?main_page=product_info&products_id=179
Cedric's wand: RealFireNSteel-Cedric-Diggorys-Wand/dp/B07MN2GTV7
Harry's wand:
product/Magic-Totem
Magic tattoos: pin/244812929731383562/
Spellblade: pin/595952963187333992/
Spell grimoire: pin/595460381970808250/
Amulet: pin/522347256767715384/
Talisman: .ca/pin/825706912929488426/
Chapter 124: New Wand
"Nothing, nothing," the old wizard shook his head, "just that Harry has outgrown his wand and they aren't compatible anymore." Looking at the old wizard, Harry had the feeling the wandmaker knew exactly why he had out grown his wand, and he was thankful the old wizard didn't mention it, especially to the old meddling bastard.
Although it is an unfortunate thing being connected to Voldemort, he would rather not have it mention out loud. Especially the fact that he had that psycho's soul fragment inside of him, that could immediately lead to bad outcomes if anyone found out.
No matter what they thought of him, just knowing that he had a part of that madman's soul in him could raise many questions. Souls are the essence of a human, and with two souls in a body there could be a mending of personalities and memories.
Harry was sure or he always told himself he was nothing like Voldermort and had hadn't been affected by his soul fragment in him for over a dozen years. But nobody would understand that, and it was just a risk he couldn't take.
"Really?" Harry asked as he looked down at his wand, playing along with what the old wandmaker said. Still he was a bit saddened, he and his wand really have been through a lot, but he guessed he just changed too much and his wand won't be coming with him through his next journey in life.
"Then what are we to do?" Dumbledore asked, as his bushy eyebrows furrowed. "He needs to compete next month in the first trial, and if his wand isn't working properly..."
"You my boy," the wandmaker said as he turned to face him, "need a new wand."
"Can't he make do with the one he has?" Dumbledore inquired. "Doesn't the time it takes to get used to a new wand take awhile and he will need to fight a dra-... I mean he will need to be in his tip top shape for his trial to come."
"Well if as you put it he needs to be in tip top shape, then he will need a new wand no matter what. I could already see that is magic is 15% less effective and the mana exchange is at a 7% loss. So you tell me, will he need a new wand."
"Alright, alright," the Hogwarts headmaster acquiesced, "you are the expert here, Garrick. We will follow what you say is best."
"Good," the wandmaker nodded his head as he handed Harry back his wand. "For now you can keep it and in the future, it can act as a backup wand for you. Make sure you come into my shop when you are next free."
"Will do, Mr. Ollivander," Harry nodded his head.
Walking into Diagon Alley, Harry was always taken back by all the shops that lined the cobblestoned wizarding and the magical folk milling about. The place was old fashion as if it was out of a medieval fair, but medieval times had nothing to the magical aesthetic that prevailed through the street.
He tried to ignore the people shadowing him, but he just couldn't keep them out of mind and they quickly ruined his enjoyment of sightseeing all the wonderful things on the alley.
"Must you follow me?" Harry finally asked as he turned to face Tonks and her squad mates.
"You know the orders from Madam Bones as much as I do," Tonks smiled at him. "We are simply following orders."
Sighing, Harry wondered why his life had to be so miserable.
Thanks to the paper that he told Rita to write, Amelia took the matter of him joking about being assassinated seriously. The public was in outcry when the news was out that somehow the goblet of fire spat out his name.
They really took it seriously that someone might be trying to harm him so the Ministry had to react. And by that he meant them sending in Aurors full force. The magical law enforcers now filled the school and he had Tonks and her squad on him all day.
Dumbledore wasn't too happy, but since he lost all political power thanks to him, he couldn't do anything. And his record of bad things happening constantly on the school grounds really didn't help his case.
Sighing, Harry knew it was all his fault and could only blame himself for the situation he was in. He was after all the one that painted a vivid and wonderful piece of all the suffering he had gone through and now the public was defensive about their boy hero.
Along the way to Ollivander's shop, Harry got noticed by many people who pointed and whispered as he went by. If there was one reason why he was glad he had Tonks and her squad shadowing him was because they kept the people from swarming him.
Still he made his complementary waves and hellos, kissed a baby or two along the way, and gave words of encouragement to little kids.
Finally they came upon the shop as the sun hung high above in the sky, the place was narrow and shabby with peeling gold letters over the door of the shop read!
Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
Stopping at the door, he turned to Tonks and asked, "Mind if I go in alone, or will you have to follow me inside?"
"Fine, go ahead," Tonks sighed, "we will be waiting right here."
Giving her a nod of thanks, Harry entered the shop, a tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as he stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair, he looked at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling.
Feeling a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, Harry turned around and smiled at the old wandmaker who silently entered from the backroom.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander," Harry greeted the wandmaker while thinking to himself, 'no today, not today will you be getting the jump on me!'
He recalled the first time he came here, when the old wizard nearly gave him and Hagrid a heart attack.
The old man was standing before him, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. "Ah yes," the man nodded his head, "You were coming today!"
The old man suddenly moved closer to Harry, and touched his faded lightning scar on his forehead with a long, white finger. "I see that you got rid of it."
"You could have told me, you know," Harry voiced as he took a step back.
Shaking his head, the old wizard answered, "My house did not have the knowdgle on how to remove it, we know about it but that was all. So I would have just been burdening you with the knowdgle."
"Glad to know," Harry nodded his head as he eased up with the man with his hard tone. It was good to know and it was a weight off his mind that bothered him for a while now.
"You are right handed if I recall correctly," the wandmaker mused as he got right to it.
"Yes," Harry answered as he held out his hand for him before he even needed to ask, he was used to the process so didn't need to be told what to do.
Smiling as he let the measuring tape size him up the old wizard went into the piles he had laying around.
"Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and Bicorn. Nine inches. Inflexible and rigid. Just take it and give it a wave."
Harry took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once. "So," Harry begin as the wandmaker handed him another wand to try out, this Oak and Chimaera stinger.
"I noticed that you were in my parents' will for those who were to take care of me if anything were to happen to them. Why is that?" he asked as the old wizard took the wand and handed him another.
"Try this, Silver birch and Unicorn hair. Seven inches. Quite whippy," he said to which he immediately took from his grab before he would even test it. "No, no, no," he said as he handed him another Ebony and Dragon heartstring.
"To answer your question," the wandmaker said as he took the wand from him again and gave him a Maple and Nundu quill. "I knew your great-grandfather, Henry Potter, the person your parents named you after."
"Really?" Harry asked as he tried and tried different wands all of them not the right fit. Harry took a second glance at the old wizard and wondered how fricking old he was.
"Yes," Mr. Ollivander answered as a shadow of a smile split his face. "We were good friends back in the day," he said as he had him try a Larch and Thunderbird feather wand. "That must be why your parents entrusted you to me in their will."
Being sick and tired of trying all those wands out, Harry put his hands up in the air and declared, "Well none of these are working. Do you have a rare and powerful hiding out back?"
"You did try all my rare and powerful wands," the old wizard shook his head amusedly. "I rarely let people try out a Thunderbird or Thestral wand."
"So what are we going to do?" Harry asked, seeing that there wasn't any option left.
Smiling at him with a toothy grin, the wandmaker answered, "Well we will be making a new one for you!"
"Come, come," the old wandmaker waved him over as he started heading to the back of the shop. Harry noticed that there was a spring in the old wizard's steps, and he mused he must be excited.
Hurrying up to catch up, Harry went past the rows upon rows of boxes, took an immediate left, down a long hallway until he walked through the door the old wizard entered in.
Walking into the workshop, Harry was blown away; light up the place where wizard lights, all around on shelves were magical creature parts some very mundane and others quite rare indeed. In cases were labeled pieces of wood and even metal which he ran his hand over the glass covering protecting them.
Acting as a ceiling was shelves of ancient magic tomes who held grat secrets on all sorts of magical foci. Laying on work desks were recent projects yet to be finished. And Harry noticed they weren't just wands, he saw staffs, rods, and scepters in the work.
"Stop gawking and come over here," the old wizard called out from a table strewn with parchments, empty ink stains, and disarranged materials.
Doing as commanded, Harry made his way over to where the old man sat. "This is such a novel experience," Harry smiled, this indeed a very novel experience for him as he never bore witness to a wand being made or a wandmaker toning up such an implement.
Plus he was very much in the empty as he really didn't brush up in his wand lore that very much. He only made some courtesy reads on general magical foci to be up to date on his overall topics and to get a well rounded education.
"Well you are in for a surprise," the old man chuckled softly. "Now I will have to do some in-depth readings on you if we are to make the perfect and most compatible wand for you."
Pushing aside all the gathered mess on his desk, the wizard told him to take a seat as he turned to face him once he did so.
Drawing out his wand, Harry took a close look at it. It is a very curious thing what a wandmaker's wand is.
"Sit still," the old wandmaker said as he pointed his wand at Harry, "this will only take a moment."
With that, he begin to mutter a few words under his breath as the spell came into effect on him, Harry felt a tingling sensation as the old wizard did his diagnosis on him.
"Hmm," he uttered, "I see that a wand would be useless to you in a year or two," he muttered. "You will have to come in for a staff to be made."
Taking a double take, Harry had to repeat in his head what the wandmaker just said, him a staff?! Staffs are only for the most powerful and skilled wizards alive, they are one of the few magical foci that could handle a wizard's magic at that caliber.
To be told Harry would be at that level in a year or two, now that was so high praise and honor.
Finally the wandmaker was done analyzing him and withdrew his magic and stepped back. "I sence both good and evil waring inside of you, battle, darkness, and dare I say lust?" he mused as he got a reading on him.
Leaving it at that and turning around, he headed to another table and waved him over. Here he had many materials laid out from Hellhound fangs, Salamander tail, Tebo tusk, and even Griffin feathers, and countless more magical creature parts each glowing with a magical light showing how far from mundane they were.
"You will decide a core for your wand. You simply have to run your hand over it, and point out the wand that calls out to you the most."
Doing as commanded, Harry waved his hand over the magical creature parts, however come short. He was drawn to many but they really didn't feel right like it wasn't clicking.
"Nothing?" the old man asked as Harry shook his head. Harry watched as his face when downcast and slowly start contemplating what to do, until an idea struck him.
Pulling out the item, he held it out to the old man and asked, "Would this do?"
Staring at the Royal Gryphon feather he held in his hand, the old man's fingers trembled as he reached out and carefully held it in his hands. "Is this really..."
"Yes," Harry nodded his head, staring at Sunchaser's feather, "and I do feel a very close connection to it."
"It will do," the old man nodded his head. "Now moving on," he said as he lead him to where the materials of the body of the wand laid. There were numerous branches of wood laid out and even some rare metals as well.
"This time I will be getting to the hearts of the issue, and show you my best material," he said as he withdrew a piece of white cloth and laid it out.
"What is it?" Harry asked as he stared at the beautiful piece of branch, just it's plain simplicity contained so much wonder.
"A branch from the World Tree itself, Yggdrasil!" the wandmaker answered. "The tree of that represents the cycle of life, death and rebirth."
Just running his wand over it told Harry how perfect it was, "I think I feel that connection you are talking about."
"Good, I am glad, or else I would have been left with nothing. Now this would have been it, but I think you will need some supplementary material in your wand. Come over," he said.
"You know what to do," he waved his hand. Harry was surprised to see Basilisk's blood in the mix and he also got drawn to a pile of ash which he knew were Phoenix ash as he saw the glowing ember in the ash like it was still lighting up.
"Ahhh, so I see you chose Fawkes ashes, the two of you really do have a close bond. And the Basilisk blood I was able to by from those goblins, costed me an arm and a leg," he muttered the last part under his breath.
Clapping his hands together, the old wizard declared, "We are now all set to make your wand!"
Quick question, do you want Harry to help make the wand or just pick it up a few days later? See you in the comments for your choice!
magic /2020/01/100-unique-magical-services/
Chapter 125: New Professor
Clapping his hands together, the old wizard declared, "We can now get started on making your wand!"
"What is the first step?" Harry asked, curious to know how the process worked.
"Well, the first step is always the blueprint," the wandmaker answered as he got himself a blank parchment and spread it before himself. "I will need to draft a design on the model of your wand."
"Of course," Harry nodded his head, listening to him continue.
"Then there is the fashioning of the wand itself which would take days on end. I shall set aside everything else and focus on your wand for now. Come back here in a week's time and you shall have your new wand ready at hand!"
"Excellent, now how much?" Harry asked about the price.
Smiling, the old man rested his hand on his shoulder and lead him to the front of the shop, "Let's head out front and we can discuss that."
Leaving the shop with a much much emptier pocket, Harry was a bit crestfallen at the exuberant price he had to pay. His new wand alone costed as much as a 100 new wands all by itself. It was a very steep price to pay, but in all honesty, it was a fair one he noted.
There would be many rare materials used in the creation of his new wand and they all cost a pretty penny to procure. So it was fair though it did hurt his pockets, not by much or even at all but it mentally hurt him.
"Why do you look so downcast as if your child has been stolen?" Tonks asked him as they headed out of Diagon alley with their duties concluded for today.
"You have no idea," Harry shook his head.
"Come on, cheer up," Tonks elbowed him. "You have me for the whole day," she whispered.
Turning to look at her with a grin splitting his face after making sure that her squad mates weren't paying attention to them, he whispered back. "You are right. I have missed you dearly. And we have the rest of the day left to do so so very much..."
Harry realized there was something good in all of this; having people follow his ever shadow wasn't very comforting, but at least he had a very sexy and willing Auror at his beck and call.
"Then we best hurry back," Tonks answered breathlessly as he saw how hot and bothered she must have been after being apart for him for quite a while now.
Walking up in the middle of the night, Harry groggily got up and looked around to see what awakened him this late into the night.
Looking to his night stand where the sound was originating from, Harry saw that his Mirror Phone was the cause of the racket.
Picking up the magic phone, he wondered who was calling him this late an hour and cursed them a bit for waking him up.
When he saw the Caller ID on the Mirror Phone, Harry paused this was the one call he was both dreading and glad of.
Answering the phone, Harry spoke into the phone, "Hey, Sirius! Why the late phone call? You do know I have school tomorrow morning."
"Sorry, pup," the Black family head answered, "I was just formalizing the final touches of the term of surrounded from my cousin."
Recalling Sirius's cousin, Amaryllis Mort who he had casus belli against, Harry smiled while shaking his head in wry amusement. "So what did Lady Mort offer you to leave her alone?"
"Well, she gave back everything she stoled, paid a very hefty fee including estates, galleons, resources, her daughter, spells, treasures, and magical items..."
"Wait what?" Harry caught him off as he really wasn't sure what he just heard him say.
"Yes?" Sirius asked as he stopped mid sentence.
"Could you repeat what you just said?" Harry inquired still unsure if he caught his godfather just say what he did.
"The treasures and magical items? Yea, there are some really good fines, I could send you the entering and useful ones."
"No, not that, before," Harry said as he shook his head.
"Spells? If that what you are interested then..."
"NO," Harry shouted, "did you just say your cousin offered you her daughter?"
"Ohhh, that," Sirius said, "Yes, she should be in the same year as you if I remember correctly. Slytherin of course like always. What was her name Belva, Beliva, or something..."
"Belvina Mort," Harry corrected. He knew her very well, she was after all the second contender for Ice Princess of Slytherin, coming in close to Daphne in terms of beauty, smarts, and cunning.
"So she really offered you her daughter just like that as some sort of prize?" Harry asked as there was no hiding his disbelief. He knew it was the practice of Noble families to do these sort of things, but to see it in actuality was a whole other thing.
"Who me?" Sirius barked out in laughter. "What no! Amelia would have me strung up by my balls if I accepted a little girl as some peace consolation."
"I don't follow then," Harry spoke into the phone as confusion was written on his face. "If not you... then who?!"
"Well you of course," Sirius answered with wry amusement. "You shall be Lord Mort in the future and make sure that the Mort line stays in line and close to us, especially in these times," his godfather emphasized. "An Earl house, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, is something we can not let slip away to the enemy's camp."
Harry sat there on his bed drawing a blank. He knew Sirius made a really good point, but he did not know how to feel about one day marrying somebody he did not know at all. He prided himself in being better than his noble counterparts, and promising himself in not falling into their own pit traps.
However, now he was doing exactly what they did, not marrying for love but political reasons.
It was Sirius's right as his adoptive father to make betrothal contracts on his behalf and he saw no problem in the least bit because he knew that Sirius had his best interest in hearts. But he felt so many different emotions, he just did not know how to express himself.
Sirius seem to sense his complicated emotions and whispered, "I am sorry, pup, for not telling you. This is what I wanted to talk to you about today and much more."
"It's alright," Harry said shaking his head. He knew he needed all the allies he could get for this coming war, and if he had to stoop so low as to political convenience then so be it.
"I left a clause allowing you to back out of the arrangement if you wish, just tell me and I will break the betrothal," Sirius voiced.
"No go ahead," Harry said, "if this is what it takes to secure House Mort's support then so be it." He can handle an extra person in his ever growing harem if it got him the military arms and gold of an Earl household.
Silence greeted them as the two of them were each contemplating their own thoughts. Until they both broke into speaking at the same time.
"How are you doing..." Harry and Sirius asked each other at the same time.
"Never mind me, how are you?" Sirius asked seriously.
"I'm fine," Harry answered with a sigh.
"Well, that doesn't really sound like fine," Sirius pointed out.
"It's just..." Harry tried to say, then stopped, "you read the daily Prophet already so you know."
"Yea, the Triwizard Tournament," Sirius said, "I have been reading that Skeeter woman's article."
"Yep, and this year I just thought, you know, that I wouldn't have to deal with any bullshit. But..." Before he could stop himself, Harry was talking more than he'd talked in days — about how his name had entered into the tournament, his many issues, and so much more.
It felt good getting it all off his chest, much better than keeping it all in like he has been doing these past few days.
"Feels good, huh?" Sirius asked, voicing his thought once he was done with giving his piece.
"Mhmm," Harry nodded his head.
"Good, now you need your head in the game," Sirius voiced. "You have a winning chance here. You might see yourself as the underdog here, but I see you as the reigning champion. So you need to act like it. No more complaining or making up a fuss. You understand?" Sirius asked.
"Yea, it's time to put my game face on," Harry agreed.
"Now the first thing you need to do is find out about the first trial. I have seen in the newspapers this is going to be a mystery trial, but that isn't the case. Dumbledore the goody two shoes he is won't tell you what it is like the other schoolmasters would do for their champions, so it is up to you to find out."
"What — they will do that?" Harry remarked in surprise.
"You are too innocent, pup, winning is everything to the schools. Not for the gold, but for the glory. For a whole decade, you are the reigning champion. It might be childish and all, but that's us wizards for you."
"I will do my best," Harry nodded his head.
"Now," Sirius said, "It was Moody or should I say, Barty Jr. who put your name in the goblet."
"Yep, but no one wants to admit that to themselves. Everyone is denying to themselves the obvious question in front of their face staring at them, who sent him? There was no way Barty Jr. would have snuck into the school with the orders of someone. And that could only be one person and one person alone."
"But they do not wish to admit it to themselves," Sirius sighed.
"Yes, and I am worried about that, Sirius. Voldermort has a ritual planned involving me, which isn't any good."
"Don't worry," Sirius said, "I will be arriving at Hogwarts in a couple of days. So I will have your back."
"How?" Harry asked, "guests are not to arrive for at least another 2 weeks."
Harry could hear the amusement in the older wizard's tone as he answered mysteriously, "Don't worry about it. See you soon!"
As the phone call ended, Harry looked at his phone in confusion.
"Who were you talking to?" Tonks asked as she got up and sat in the bed forgetting to or most likely not caring about showing all her naked glory as she stared at him.
"Just Sirius," Harry answered. "Everything is alright, you can go back to sleep."
"Why do that, when the night is still young?" Tonks smiled at him.
"Mmm, I guess you are right, we are already up and it is best to make use of our time."
At that comment from him, Tonks jumped him as they both fell to the bed and laughter filled the air which was soon replaced by obscene noises.
Coming down to the Great Hall the next morning, Harry didn't even know the surprise he was in for today. It was same as usual as chatter filled the air with the countless voices of students talking mixing together.
Then Albus Dumbledore had got to his feet which had heads turning. Clearing his throat, he called out, "If I could have your attention please."
Everyone turned their head to face him including the foreign students who were filling the Great Hall.
Looking up at the old coot, Harry saw that he was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. "I have an important announcement to make!" he said.
"It gives me great pleasure to introduce you all to your new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor."
Harry wondered who would be filling the cursed role after Barty Jr. had been found out, everyone had gone on without a real Defence Against the Dark Arts for the past 2 weeks with different Professors filling the role from time to time.
Harry clapped mildly along with the rest of the students, and for some inexplicable reason he thought of his Godfather, Sirius Black, probably napping on his couch right now, if Harry had to guess.
He had said that he would like getting out and about now his name had been clear and maybe look for something to fill his step besides managing his family estates and holding.
"Please join me in welcoming Professor Sirius Black," Dumbledore pronounced.
"Whattttt?!" Harry said as his mind just couldn't process what it was hearing. Turning to his friends he asked, "Did he just say what I think he did?"
Some else also couldn't believe what he was hearing as Harry heard Snape called out in a shrill voice. "Whattttt?!"
At Dumbledore's announcement, the doors to the Great Hall swung open and a man stood in the doorway, one he knew very well, Sirius. He had his usual grin on his face as he walked into the Great Hall.
Harry waited for the jeering to begin, even though Sirius's name has been cleared there is still the stigma that is attached to his name. For years he had been known as Voldermort's right-hand man, and the most vile traitor, at the time of his arrest people were calling for the Dementor's kiss right away.
That is something that takes time to go away, all that anger and hate.
But Harry was absolutely shocked and pleasantly surprised when the hall was filled with a huge round of applause. The Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws looked genuinely happy while the Slytherins didn't look all that pleased.
Oh well, it's not like he or Sirius cared about what they thought.
Harry looked around the table and say some boys looked at the black family head with looks of admiration because in his hay day he and his father were some sort of national icon. They were well known for being in the forefront of the war and were seen as heroes, he was sure by now most of them were aware that he was an extremely skillful Auror nad leader.
The female population of Hogwarts, on the otherhand swooned as they stared with dreamy eyes at their new professor who had the looks of a super model with his dark locks and grey mysterious eyes.
It didn't help that Sirius smiled and waved which had even more girls giggling.
"That old sly dog," Harry muttered to himself as she shook his head, he still couldn't believe that his godfather got the teacher post.
And as if he could sense Harry's gaze, Sirius turned his eyes to Harry and wagged his eyebrows with a smile on his face. Harry gave him a bewildered face which clearly stated, why didn't you say anything?
Sirius just grinned and gave him an affectionate wink.
Coming up to the podium he greeted the staff and shook hands with Dumdldore before he took his seat.
Dumbledore held his hand out, and began to speak again, but Harry wasn't listening to him anymore, he was watching Snape, Sirius's arch enemy who was sending Sirius such a murderous glare that Harry started to worry for Sirius's life.
Sirius noticed the hateful glares coming his way and simply returned the gesture with a grin of sorts really it was more like a snarl something he would expect from his godfather.
Shaking his head, Harry thought to himself this year just keeps on getting interesting. He wondered what else was in store.
If you guys want advance chapters check out my Pa/ treon I am 25 chapters ahead!
www Pa/ treon /Mark_Ward