AN: Welcome guys!
Everything is coming together so soon, it almost makes me sad... Almost...
Feel free to share your ideas concerning a final confrontation with me.
Either leave a review or shoot me a PM.
I am interested to see what you guys come up with.
Until next time, enjoy!
The recognizable sections belong to JKR
Chapter 98
Mai 1st, 1997
Harry stared in disbelief at the thin piece of wood in his hand. He hardly noticed the polite applause and occasional cheers that erupted all over the stadium. The fact that he just won a duel against one of the strongest wizards in Britain was pushed into a far corner of his mind. He shifted the wand to his other and trailed the tip of his index finger of its entire length. A wave of disappointment washed over him as the legendary wand remained cold and dead in his hand.
This was it?
This was winning the allegiance of the strongest wand in the world?
Harry had spent hours dreaming and imagining the surge of power and euphoria that he might feel, once he finally collected the last Hallow. Reality came crashing down on him as disappointment mixed with anger and doubt. The wand was supposed to make him greater, elevate him to a position far above the Dark Lord's equal. This wand had been his dream and his ticket to ultimate freedom for himself and Fleur. This useless piece of wood was part of the legacy of his ancestors. He, the last Peverell, had brought them together... Why was it not working?
Because they are not together yet... The cloak is missing... Perhaps...
Soft arms wrapped around his neck as the unmistakable scent of his girlfriend filled his nostrils and a wall of platinum blonde hair filled his vision. Warm lips pressed against his own and he was certain to taste a salty tear. The Veela quickly pulled back when she felt that Harry did not reciprocate the kiss. Her cheeks were slightly blushed, her eyes had gleamed with energy, pride, love, and so many other emotions. Yet now, they looked at him in incredulity and utter perplexity. She felt rejected...
"What's wrong Harry?" A deep frown marred her beautiful features.
"I need to get out of here." He glanced over Fleur's blonde head at saw the headmaster being attended to by Madam Pomfrey. He was surrounded by Flitwick and McGonagall, but the faint smile remained on his lips. Harry cursed. Of course, there was another riddle to overcome and Dumbledore had known it.
Right now, Harry simply felt like being alone. His entire body hurt from the duel and he felt exhausted. However, at the same time, he craved Fleur's company and her counsel. Harry needed her and he could tell that his girlfriend had taken the rejection rather badly.
He watched as Sirius came running up the steps, a bright grin on his face and his arms spread for a hug. He would apologize to the man later. Harry looked down at Fleur, who was still staring up at him with a hurtful expression in her dark blue eyes. His hands came resting down on her hips and with a soft snap, he apparated them away, down to a place where no one could bother them...
"You rejected my kiss? What is wrong, Harry?" Fleur asked him bewildered after they arrived in the Chamber of Secrets: "I can only help you if you talk to me..."
Harry ignored her and sprinted up to the Salazar Quarters. Ignoring the surprised look and questions of the Founder, he snatched the Invisibility Cloak from his father and walked back to the Main Chamber.
His heart raced as he slipped underneath the Cloak while holding the Elderwand in his right hand the thick golden ring in his left. A few seconds passed... Nothing happened. An untamed roar of disappointment left Harry's lips. He took a couple of deep breaths... There had to be a solution for it... This certainly was not the great end to his journey...
"The damn wand does not work for me!" Harry's voice raised ever so slightly. He tossed the wand over to Fleur, who snatched it out of the air: "What do you mean? You won the duel... You beat its previous owner..."
"And it still does not work!" Harry snapped at her and cursed himself right after. this was not Fleur's fault, yet he felt so angry and disappointed. Harry walked back and forth on the stone tiles of the large Chamber. He needed to calm down and think clearly. He flicked his own wand back into his palm and willed his magic to create a chair for him, to sit down on.
Fleur shrieked when a small explosion erupted from the tip of Harry's wand and a mess of fabric, wood, and other materials, one might expect to craft an armchair with, came raining down on Harry.
"WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!" Harry roared and slashed his wand through the air. The result was pathetic... A tiny, weak flame flared for a second before going extinct. He looked at the smooth wood in his palm in shock.
"This has to be a joke..." Harry shook his head in utter defeat. "This cannot be real... Not my own wand as well..."
"Please, come down, my love..." Fleur said, as rosewood swirled through the air and she conjured a large armchair herself. Harry took a seat, running his hands through his hair: "Even my own wand is not working anymore... I just don't understand... It has served me so well, its bond to me is extraordinary... That's what Gregorovitch said..."
Fleur's blond head shot up at the mention of the wandmaker's name: "Didn't he say something to you right before you left him... Something about winning the allegiance of two wands..."
Harry frowned and searched for the memory... Finally, he found it.
"You are in for a surprise, Mr. Potter. The wand I just crafted won't accept to simply be tossed aside when a rival appears. Its bond to you might even rival your potential bond with the Death Stick of your ancestors. Perhaps it's even stronger...It's difficult to say, those two wands are practically brothers after all..."
"What will happen then?"
"The most fundamental laws of nature and magic will apply, my boy... If you win the allegiance of two wands, the stronger one will dominate the weaker one into submission. In addition, it will absorb some, if not all of the powers of its rival."
"The wand's..." Harry looked up: "The wands are fighting one another... Fighting over dominance... Fighting over me..."
Harry shot up from his seat, ignoring the protest of his muscles: "I need to see him... He is the only one that can explain what exactly is happened and how to fix it."
"I will come with you!" Fleur declared instantly: "You have taken me on this journey... It is only fair that we finish it together."
"I would need you anyways to apparate us." Harry gulped and watched her sadly. A quick glance on his watch told him that it was past 11:00 pm already. He had no idea if the European wandmaker even lived in the same village as he did over the summer. Didn't the goblins say that he moved frequently to avoid being tracked?
"We will leave right now then." Harry declared with a nod: "I am practically defenseless for as long as neither of the wands work well for me. We need to solve this problem immediately."
Fleur bobbed her blonde head as she pulled out her Portkey, that would take her back to France. She held out her hand expectantly and Harry slipped his finger into hers. A soft snap later, they disappeared. It took them four more stops, before the couple finally arrived in the small Hungarian village, close to the Romanian border.
He could not care less that the appearance of him and a woman like Fleur might draw attention to this place. Instead, he took Fleur's hand and led her down the streets leading to Gregorovitch's small house at the outer skirts of the village. It was very late at night anyway. Chances were, no one would even spot them...
He recognized the wandmaker's home instantly. However, this time, he could not make out any magical signature close to it. His heart sunk... Either the man had moved again, or even his wandless abilities had taken a hit tonight. Nevertheless, he walked up to the door and knocked thrice.
A few seconds later, the door creaked open and a face appeared. Harry sighed in relief as bushy white eyebrows widened when the wandmaker recognized him. His gaze traveled to Fleur next to him before fixating back on Harry: "Mr. Potter... I have expected you at some point, though I cannot say anticipated your arrival this early... I suggest you come in quickly. The hour is late..."
Harry agreed and stepped over the threshold. The house seemed less messy than the last time he had been here and even Gregorovitch looked cleaner and healthier. The man led them back into his small sitting room and gestured for a couple of chairs: "And this must be the lovely Ms. Delacour." He gave her a small bow: "A pleasure to make your acquaintances, mademoiselle."
"The honor is mine," Fleur replied with a genuine bright smile as he took a seat and crossed her long legs.
"I find myself in desperate need of your help, Sir," Harry spoke up.
"I imagined you will, when the day comes, Mr. Potter." The man chuckled: "There can only be one reason for your visit... I take it you found it, but things did not go as expected?"
"I won it an hour ago... Yet, you could say so..." Harry replied drily, still unable to not let his disappointment and anger slip through his words.
"May I see it?" The man asked and Harry noticed how his voice went hoarse.
Harry shrugged and pulled the thin piece of wood out from within his robes. he handed it over to the wandmaker who accepted it with the utmost care as if he had been handed a newborn infant.
"Over half a century has passed since I last set eyes on it..." He croaked in fascination as his fingers ran down the shaft: "It is just as beautiful as I remembered."
He continued studying the wand, murmuring under his breath and nodding from time to time. Fleur and Harry exchanged a curious look. Neither of them was knowledgeable enough in wandlore to have a grasp of what's going on.
"Well, I suggested we move over to my workshop." The man beamed up with childlike excitement. "I believe there is a solution to your problem."
The couple followed the overly enthusiastic man, who almost had a bounce in his step, as he whistled a little tune and placed the wand on his workbench: "I assume you still have your original wand and it does not work?"
Harry nodded, not surprised that the man had figured out so much already. he flicked his old wand into his palm and handed it over to Gregorovitch: "It is as you said then? They are fighting each other for dominance?"
"Yes... Mr. Potter..." The man whispered as he inspected the second piece of elder wood: "Two wands, made of the same wood and core. Half-brothers, so to say... Both extremely powerful, yet their source of power differs greatly."
"What do you mean?" Fleur asked.
The wandmaker smiled softly as he took the Deathstick back in his palm "The Elderwand's source of power is its core, created from the hair of the very first Thestral that roamed this earth. In addition, magic that not even I could begin to understand was interwoven into the material during the wand's assembly. Regardless of the wielder, this is the strongest wand on earth."
He slowly placed it back on the table and took Harry's old wand: "And this is the competition... A wand of great potential, certainly the most powerful my colleague in Britain and I have created during our careers. Yet, its true power lies in the journey it shares and the strong personal bond that developed between wand and wielder."
"Like the infusion with Basilisk venom." Harry nodded his understanding: "It helped me tremendously with my Parselmagic."
"Exactly..." The man beamed up: "Right now, they are fighting for dominance over which wand is worthy of being wielded by you. The Elderwand's natural power, vs. is challenged by your old wand's intimate bond with you. They are so evenly matched, that we must choose to interfere on behalf of one of them to end this battle."
"How can we do that?" Harry asked curiously. He was massively out of his depth...
"You might not like the answer." The man chuckled dangerously: "If you would like for your old wand to win the battle of wills, all you need to do is snap the Elderwand in two pieces and break its circle of power forever."
Harry stared in shock at what the man just explained. He was not joking...: "I cannot do that. I need the Hallows united." He stated firmly.
"Then I suggest the second option..." The man's eyes shone in excitement. "The Elderwand will prevail in this conflict if personalized to a similar degree, just as we did with your original wand..."
"You want to experiment around with it and enhance it?" Harry asked: "That has never been done before, has it?"
"You are right, of course, no one dared to do it before. But we hardly have an option, Mr. Potter." The man shook his head: "If we decide to not do anything, then neither of the wands will be usable for you."
"What exactly do you intend to do, sir?" Harry asked carefully.
"Your blood, Harry Potter." The man smiled: "You have Peverell blood running through your veins. Your blood will bond the Deathstick to its true master and since the blood is infused with Basilisk venom, we might also be able to replicate the affinity for Parselmagic. Although I do have a different theory about that as well..."
"What's the catch?" Harry asked: "How many drops of blood do you need?"
"Drops? No, my boy..." Gregorovitch shook his head: "The wand needs to be completely soaked in the fresh blood of its creator or a descendant. I am afraid, that is the only way..."
"Fine!" Harry sighed, remembering his rituals: "Lots of blood then..."
Fleur stifled slightly next to him and Harry squeezed her hand affectionately, hoping it would calm her: "What kind of vessel will we use for the blood?"
The wandmaker walked over to a small storage shelf and came back with a long pipe, roughly three inches in diameter. He held it against the length of the Elderwand and nodded satisfied. "This one will do... it will need to be filled all the way to the top with your blood, Mr. Potter."
Harry turned to Fleur with a persistent expression. The Veela frowned deeply. The thought of hurting her boyfriend certainly did not sit well with her. Very reluctantly, she pulled her wand from her waist and took a step forward: "I am sorry for the pain I will cause you, my love." She whispered in his ear and placed a soft kiss on the corner of his moth.
Gregorovitch granted them some privacy while setting up the pipe on his workbench and placing the Elderwand inside it, with its tip pointing downwards. He gave the young couple a short nod when everything was prepared.
Harry exposed his wrist to Fleur and locked eyes with his girlfriend. He felt the tip of the rosewood wand trail over his wrist. A split second later, a sharp pain surged through his body, but he forced himself not to flinch. It would only cause more concern to Fleur. Dark blood spilled from a deep cut on his wrist, as Harry placed his arm above the vessel. Blood started dripping from the wound into a vessel and collected at the bottom. Soon the tip was surrounded by a puddle of dark red liquid.
Large drops continued to splash on the liquid surface in regular intervals, forming a small continuous flow. The echo hollowed through the small workshop. When Harry's closet his eyelids briefly, showing the first sign of weakness, Fleur quickly stepped beside him to steady her boyfriend while whispering words of encouragement into his ear.
"Just a bit longer, Mr. Potter," Gregorovitch spoke in excitement. "We are almost there, just another inch!"
Harry forced himself to remain fully conscious and just concentrated on the feeling of Fleur pressed against him, reminding him what exactly he was fighting and bleeding for. One last drop filled the vessel almost to the brim. The Dark liquid now fully concealed the entire handle of the Elderwand.
Harry dropped to his knees in exhausting, eliciting a small yelp from his girlfriend. She traced her wand over the deep cut on his wrist. To the surprise of all three occupants of the workshop, the rosewood hissed when the tip came in contact with Harry's blood. Gregorovitch's eyes widened in excitement: "Make sure to remind to take a look at your wand after this is done, Ms. Delacour."
The wandmaker turned back to the project on the workbench in front of him. He took a small silver knife and started carving a repeating frequency of runes on the outside of the pipe. Harry and fleur watched in fascination as the runes started glowing ever so slightly. Their eyes widened even further, when they took a peek down the pipe, only to find that it was completely empty now, aside from the thin wood, leaning against its side.
Gregorovitch covered his hand with a pair of gloves and carefully pulled the wand out of the vessel. Besides a slight change of color (It looked a bit darker), nothing seemed to have changed, at least on the outside. He placed the wand back on the working bench, next to Harry's original wand, and whispered: "And now we wait..."
Harry, who had slightly recovered from the blood loss in the meantime, pulled himself upright with the help of Fleur and watched the two wands.
"Watch, it begins!" Gregorovitch exclaimed with a yelp. The two wards started buckling on the working bench, twitching ever so slightly as a spasm surged through them. Suddenly a long, drawn-out hiss erupted from Harry's original wand, and it snapped right in the middle.
Harry started, with his mouth gaping, at his broken, most trusted companion, that had served him so well for all his years. From the inside of the wand, a faint silvery glimmer appeared, and tiny shimmering particulars burst out of it. They swirled on top of the broken wand, before drifting over to the Elderwand that lay beside it.
"I knew it!" The wandmaker grinned triumphantly as the hundreds of small particles latched themselves onto the Elderwand, giving it a slight, permanent silvery glow. At the same time, the remains of Harry's old wand crumbled to ash and faded into nothingness...
The spectacle stopped almost as quickly as it started. Harry and Fleur stared in awe at the final product. The pale, thin piece of wood had darkened considerably in color. A faint silvery sparkle illuminated the handle and shaft, giving it a faint glow.
"I am certain that the wand will heal you, Mr. Potter!" Gregorovitch. "A gift for finally being united and winning its allegiance."
For some strange reason, Harry had known the same. The piece of wood on the table called out to him in soft whispers only he seemed to be able to hear. The Elderwand was craving his touch and finally being reunited with the blood that created it so many centuries ago. Harry slowly stepped towards the crafting bench, feeling the stares of Fleur and the wandmaker on him.
His fingers tentatively closed around the handle as he picked it up...Then, he shuddered...
The last few times when he reconnected with a wand, a warmth had spread through his entire body, followed by a rush of power. This time was time different... he could not even begin to describe the exhilarating feeling. All he knew, was that he felt a cold, unlike anything he had before.
It was not a natural cold or one like the Dementors emitted. It felt surprisingly pleasant and strangely familiar to him, as if he had gotten used to it over the last 16 years of his life. It almost felt as if the Deathstick was judging him and his potential. Then, he lifted the wand upwards and finally felt its full effect.
Only one word could accurately describe what he felt when a magical wave rushed through his body from head to toe.
Power...
Untamable Power that was waiting to be unleashed on anyone in his path. Harry started panting heavily as the feeling almost overwhelmed him. He ignored Fleur's confused yelps, as his entire body started spasming. He felt his eyes pulsing with magic as their rolled in their sockets.
All around the workshop, small particles of dust were levitated as Harry's overpowering magic saturated the air and charged it like electricity. Small shockwaves of magic were pulsing from him in increasingly frequent intervals, until Harry let out a scream, dropped to his knees, and let out a flame of fiery breath.
Gregorovitch had to hold back Fleur, because even the Veela would have gotten burned by the small fiery Thestral, that galloped in the air around Harry's head. After two full spins, it flapped its wings and fused with the tip of the Elderwand, leaving behind nothing but the echo of a faint scream and a small dark carving, with the sign of the Hallows, in the wood close to the handle.
Harry slowly turned around and Fleur gasped when she saw his face.
Over the years, she had gotten used to Harry's eyes gaining a faint glow, However, usually, it was only when he was severely angered or running high on adrenaline. Now, her boyfriend shot her a cheeky smile as he casually walked over to her. Nevertheless, there was a hypnotizing fire dancing in his eyes despite his calm demeanor. Perhaps the change was permanent?
"Thank you, for everything..." Harry whispered as he pressed his lips against her forehead. He turned to Gregorovitch who stared at him in awe: "How do you feel, Mr. Potter?"
"Reenergized..." Harry mused: "Like I was reborn. I feel fully rested even though I fought my most taxing duel only two hours ago."
"The wand has taken a sacrifice from you..." The man nodded knowingly: "But in times of need, it is willing to give back as well."
"What does the faint silvery glow mean?" Harry asked curiously as he studied the length of the Elderwand.
"My runes have worked just as intended." Gregorovitch grinned: "With the help of your blood, the Elderwand won the power struggle and defeated your old wand. At the same time, it recognized that a few components of its former competitor could be used to strengthen itself. The particles were the remainings of the Basilisk Venom I used to liquify your core."
"So, the Elderwand will support my Parselmagic just as well?" Harry asked.
"No... Mr. Potter." Gregorovitch whispered: "The Elderwand will act as a multiplier and enrich your Parseltongue casting even further... I have finally achieved my dream of enhancing one of its features. My legacy will forever be embedded in this wand..."
Almost a minute of silence passed, in which all three pairs of eyes stared in fascination at the new wand in Harry's palm. Suddenly, Fleur frowned: "I can't feel you anymore, Harry."
"What do you mean?" Harry's eyes narrowed.
"I can't feel your magic anymore." Fleur frowned: "I had gotten so used to its calming and protective effect on me, but now it's gone. I can't feel your magical signature, almost as if you are not in the room anymore..."
"The wand..." Gregorovitch whispered: "I have long theorized that for anyone of Peverell blood, the wand would fully conceal the wielder's magical signature. This wand, similar to its counterpart, the Cloak, is truly untraceable..."
Harry's mood elevated once more... That was simply another benefit he could add to the list. This means that neither Dumbledore nor Voldemort could ever sense his presence again, no matter whether he wore his cloak or not.
"What about my wand?" Fleur asked curiously: "You mentioned that I should remind you about it. Did something catch your eye?"
"Indeed, I noticed something extraordinary rare!" The wandmaker's eyes beamed up once more. He accepted the Veela's wand and studied it for a minute.
"9 and a half inch, rosewood..." His brown eyes roamed over Fleur's head and lingered on her eyes: "I assume the core is hair from a family member?"
"Yes, my grandmother," Fleur replied proudly.
"Fascinating... truly fascinating." The man murmured: "It is in perfect condition and certainly an extraordinary powerful wand. However, I think we can improve it even further... Perhaps you have caught on how?"
"Blood..." Harry stated.
"Exactly, Mr. Potter." The wandmaker nodded: "But not just Ms. Delacour's blood, but a mixture between both of yours."
"I understand the need to take my blood." Fleur chimed in: "But why Harry's?"
Gregorovitch's eyes flickered between the couple: "May I assume that you two have grown rather... fond... of each other?"
"I guess you could say so, yeah." Harry grinned and pulled a chuckling Fleur closer to his side.
"It is a practice long forgotten... "The wandmaker began explaining: "But in times of the first Veela, wandmaker's recognized the power behind a Veela's bond to her mate. Perhaps times have changed, but according to what I have been told, when a Veela chooses her true mate, there will never be anyone else for her..."
Harry felt a heat radiating Fleur and her hand squeezed his: "It's true..." Fleur spoke up with undeniable pride in her voice: "Harry will be my partner for as long as I live. I will never love someone the way I love him. Even if he were to die."
"Love is a truly strange and fascinating phenomenon." The wandmaker mused, sounding almost like a certain headmaster already: "Wandmakers used this special bond between a Veela and her mate, to allow for the Veela to unleash her full potential and capitalize on her mate's magic. The stronger the partner, the better the result..."
Fleur's eyebrows narrowed slightly and Harry immediately knew why. His girlfriend was way too proud to allow for her achievements to be the result of Harry's magic and not her own.
Gregorovitch seemed to realize his mistake: "Perhaps I should have expressed myself better... Your partner's magic does not directly influence or aids you, it simply increases your own potential. Veela are magical beings of love and passion. By unlocking this part of your heritage, we simply increase your own potential, Ms. Delacour..."
"You don't have to do it, love..." Harry whispered in her ear: "You are already the most powerful witch I know."
"Anything that gives us an edge when fighting Voldemort should be capitalized on." Fleur replied with a heavy gulp: "I will do it, sir."
"Brilliant!" The wandmaker exclaimed: "Luckily, this enhancement only requires a few drops... Perhaps your wand has already satisfied its need for Mr. Potter's blood. However, I suggest adding just a few more to make sure..."
They each pinched their thumb with a small needle and let three large drops of blood splash on the tip of the rosewood wand. Fleur's dark blue eyes sparkled with a gleam as she took it back in her hand: "It feels a bit colder... But it is a pleasant cold... I can almost feel you in the depths of the wood..."
"We are deeply indebted to you, Mr. Gregorovitch." Harry says sincerely as he turned back to the wandmaker: "If there is anything we can do for you, simply name it."
"Well, you are always free to visit..." The man smiled: "But perhaps, there is something you can do for me... How about you test the Elderwand with an impressive feat of magic?"
"What do you have in mind?" Harry asked curiously as he followed the man back to the door.
"I wish to live my final days in peace. I am tired of moving and grew rather fond of this little village and even some of the muggles here. I don't want to run anymore." The smiled.
"I know I spell that will make it impossible for anyone else to find you..." Harry inclined his head in a nod.
"I thought you might." The man chuckled and opened the door: "If you don't mind?"
Harry took Fleur's hand gestured for her to follow him. Now, the couple stood in the middle of the street, with Gregorovitch standing in front of his small shack.
Small waves of power surged through the Elderwand as Harry pointed it at the house. He felt excitement at being about to perform his first piece of magic as the owner of the strongest wand on the planet.
"Secretum Absconditum In Anima!"
He pushed his intent through the wand, aiming at the house itself and then down to the Gregorovitch's chest. It was not an easy feat and Harry had never performed a spell to bend reality itself, before. Still, he hid the secret deep within the wandmaker's soul and spoke the final part of the incantation:
"Fidelius!"
The house slowly faded from view for both, Harry and Fleur. The knowledge where Europe's brightest wandmaker currently lives was erased from the teens' minds.
Gregorovitch smiled brightly and took a few steps forwards. To him, nothing seemed to have changed, apart from a perplexed expression on the faces of the teens in front of him.
"Mykew Gregorovitch lives in the outer skirts of the village Doboz, close to the Romanian border."
The house faded back into view and confirmed that the Fidelius charm had worked. The old wandmaker would finally be able to live the rest of his days on this in peace.
"Perhaps we will see each other again, Harry Potter."