Chapter 5: The Dark corners
Arcturus Regulus Black stepped in the manor that had been his adobe for a few recent decades or so. He had relinquished his ancestral family home, 12th Grimmauld place to his elder son, Orion Pollux black. While the other house, that of London, was in the hands of his second son, the younger one, Cygnus Arcturus Black.
When he looks back to it, Orion was rather a subdued man under his own wife, Cygnus was just opposite of him. An authoritive man that had no regards for anyone but himself, yet, Orion was the cunning one of the two. However he may behave around his wife, his wits were nearly as sharp as Arcturus himself.
On the adverse side, his daughter–in–laws were unlike their respective husbands, whereas Walburga was loud and obnoxious woman, like a banshee. Druella was a calm and composed woman, just opposite of Cygnus. He never understood what drew Orion to the loud mouthed banshee that he married her, She was the reason why his heir, Sirius, wasn't keen on supporting his family.
His eldest grandson was a replica of Orion, he was a bit mischievous in nature but his mind was as sharp as any Black, that was evident by his performance through his years in Hogwarts. He was the sole Black to be sorted into Gryffindor, a lone swan in a murder of crows. Arcturus can't say he didn't felt his heir's allegiance a little mocking, still he was a Black and did behave like one when asked of.
His second grandson, Regulus, was calmest of his five grandchildren, one calm lonely crow that didn't followed anyone. Although, untill Sirius hadn't started his Hogwarts the two brothers shared a strong bond, Arcturus suspected it was due to Walburga's influence on the younger brother that had led him to solitude. According to Walburga, Sirius wasn't the worthy heir for Black family, but according to Arcturus a worthy heir ought to be ruthless, unyielding and cunning unlike Walburga's description that was of an extreme blood purist.
In an not un-foreseen manner Arcturus himself was an extreme blood purist—untill he had to fight in the war against Grindlewald. That war taught him comradeship, his family had supported the much renowned and powerful Lord in the initial days of war, however as the war took its toll on the family and Arcturus lost his father and elder brother to it. While his brother was killed in a duel against an American wizard, his father was disposed off by Grindlewald. He had rendered his father useless for the Black family wealth wasn't in favorable conditions. Arcturus fuelled with vengeance didn't followed his father or brother's footsteps, instead he invested his first few year after graduation to refill his family treasures, and reclaimed the former standing of his House.
He fought against Grindlewald in the war, and formed an unexpected alliance with Charlus Potter, who himself was fuelled with vengeance as Grindlewald had killed Henry Potter, Charlus's father. The Potter family was an old warrior family, not one of several that chose to remain stationed even if one of them was in peril. The wars, that they had been fighting as a warrior clan against Dark lords, even before Grindlewald, did take toll on the family. Nonetheless, there was only one branch of Potter family alive.
This comradeship turned into an unlikely relation when Dorea black, his sister, revealed her feelings for the man. The marriage shocked and offended many in the Wizarding Britain, as Blacks and Potters were on the flip side of the political arena for years. His nephew, James, was only a shadow of his father. The boy was bright, he couldn't deny that, but he didn't had motivation to strive for more. This brought Arcturus' mind to his second nephew, or as the boy was depicted, Harry Sirius Potter was an even match for Charlus—as much he has seen of the boy.
The amount of scars scattered across his body—that too only on the little skin that was visible over his clothes told story of a Warrior. The orbs of emerald that shone bright with magic every time the boy's aura reflect itself on instinct was rather an intimidating sight, and his magic felt cold—much similar to Blacks—rather than the warm magic of Potters.
Harry Potter was an enigma, the story that Charlus had delivered about the individual, Voldemort, if they were to be correct then the boy was surely formidable enough to kill the wizard. And, Arcturus had very little to not trust the man's word.
That also raised the issue of his heir, Harry was protective of the boy there was no illusion or faulting in that. At first he had the thought to use the boy as an ally, but the boy was sly but assertive in his approach, on top of that, his personality raised alarm in Arcturus' mind to stay on guard while addressing him.
Even if the boy was James' son, he wasn't even a little bit like the arrogant, jolly-natured and careless James. No, Harry was mature—more than his age, cunning—in every way possible, assertive—yet natural in his approach and confident in his abilities—but not arrogant. Grudgingly, he admitted that the boy had a few positive qualities of his family better than any current member—excluding himself. He—of course—was Baron Arcturus Black, nightmare of every bloody bastard out there.
Another concern that followed this was that of the jib that Harry took on him, Walburga and Cygnus were somewhere the wrong and unpleasant link across the chain of family for the new Potter. And, He reckoned that the new Potter would tolerate them in near future, the disdain and hatred in his voice even while mocking them didn't went unnoticed by the Black family patriarch.
A Family meeting was due, there was much to ponder about, things couldn't go as they were.
(_-_-_X_-_-_)
The next week after the prolonged discussion with the Black family patriarch can be justifically refered as hectic for Harry. Charlus had arranged for him to take his exams through the week in audience of the Governor of Wizarding education department, Grisleda Marchbanks. The women was much more younger than Harry remember, she was one of the few ministry officials that Harry had informal contact with. She was Professor McGonagall's friend, thus he was acquitted with her. The surprise came in the form of Maria sharing that she was friends with Dorea too. Mrs. McGonagall, Dorea Potter—then Black—and She were school time friends, and met quite frequently over cups of coffee and tea.
The exams consumed the first five days of the week, the theoretical and practical exams were alternated on the same day through a two seating schedule during the week, and results were due on the Sunday. Normally the result took sometime to be marked but as he was the solo recipient for the untimely exams, tardiness in result delivery didn't served anyone well. Maria had agreed to keep his identity secret untill Charlus himself discloses the issue infront of the press. Her friendship with Dorea did suggest why she had adopted a softer approach with Harry while he had given his exams of potion in ministry years back, as on the day of his potions exam he was in the Department of mysteries struggling for the prophecy.
The result came in the morning of the last day of the weekend through a ministry owl. The ministry's owls were as stoic as ministry agents themselves, the brown scabrous owl perched on his table was an even example of that.
The table was his study station that he had favoured to use for the research about different types of magic, his time travel has somehow awakened the slumbering Ravenclaw in him. He had—unofficially—completed the syllabus for all seven years of Hogwarts, and there was no need to study those topics—repeatedly. The subjects that were being taught there now were not that unfamiliar to him, so he didn't need to worry about those. Moreover, he can say that he specialised in Transfiguration, Charms and DADA. Potion was never his cup of tea thus he was working on that before his last battle with Tom. He tossed a piece of bacon left out of his breakfast, to the bird after retrieving his letter from it's talon.
Undoubtedly, He had gotten Outstanding in most of his subjects, and an intended Acceptable and Exceeds expectations in Astronomy and Arithmancy, respectively. He didn't wanted to study Divination or Astronomy for known reasons, while Arithmancy was still useful to him as many of the runes, that he had learnt from Hermione, used those values.
He quickly set down the parchment and duplicated it to send one to Dumbledore, as instructed by Charlus, and the other to show his swish of his wand did complied with his request but the wand itself didn't fully accepted his domination. This was the continuing problem with his new wand that he had acquired from Charlus, it was the primary wand of Henry Potter—and was surely strong cored. Harry interpreted it was due to the unfamiliar core of the wand that it didn't accepted his commands eagerly.
He had to acquire a new wand if he was to liberate his full magical prowess, some of his stronger spells couldn't possibly be casted—while the wand compliances stood.
Clearing his thought the owl flew away with a hoot, he pocketed the result copy for Dumbledore, and went down to announce his result. He climbed down the stairs, and entered the study room to see his father seated on his chair with his mother beside him, she was instructing him about handling a politician safely. He cleared his throat to garner their attention, now having their full attention he placed down the other copy of his result at the table.
They eyed the result for a second before beaming at him, Dorea abandoned her position to walk forward and engulf him in a motherly hug. That—he returned with a positive attitude, Dorea had been introducing him to the motherly touch for weeks now. At first it was a little overwhelming, but through time and continuous approach—or he can say by constant remission of Dorea, he didn't shy away from it anymore.
Charlus patted on his shoulder with an encouraging smile, which in returned in the same jest. He ducked the result in one of the drawers of his study desk.
"You did brilliantly, Harry. We're proud of you" Dorea praised with a smile.
"Yeah, We are" Charlus agreed with a smile of his own.
"It was easy, I've told you I'd completed the whole syllabus till Seventh year beforehand" Harry waved off the words of praise.
"Be as it may, This still does raise a need and opportunity for a feast today, I would have to instruct Poppy to cook something special" Dorea stated with a thoughtful expression.
"I don't think that's necessary, it is just a result" Harry denied shyly..
Charlus placed his hand on Harry's shoulder and smiled at him gently. "I understand you're not use to appraisal, son. However, You must get use to them now—each and every accomplishment of yours will be credited and acknowledged by us. That's how it's with James, and that's how it's for you now."
Harry just nodded in response, not able to reply properly due the lump he found in his throat by the care he received. In the hindsight, Charlus was right—he was never praised for any of his accomplishments, even from an young age. The Dursleys never accepted that he was better that Dudley—both in sports and studies. For the first few years of his primary school he scored in top 3 of his class, several rank above Dudley. Neither his aunt nor his uncle appreciated that, instead they scolded him harshly for cheating. That polished off his interest for studies, and discouraged him from performing better in his schools days.
When he received his letter for Hogwarts, he was ecstatic that he would be able show his wits without any repercussion from his relatives. Neither Dudley nor his two remaining relatives can attend the school, but he was soon derailed of his motives by his first friend, Ronald Weasley. The need to retain his first friendship, as he never had any friends due to Dudley's active bullying of him in school—saw him censoring his abilities to that of an average Wizard.
Thus, this open display of appreciation for such trivial matter was new and welcoming change for him.
"Do we have an owl in the shed?" He inquired, at their questioning look he explained himself. "I need to send a copy of my result to Dumbledore as agreed"
Charlus nodded in response. "Tuffy is there in the shed"
Harry after a brief nod walked out of the back gate, and entered the shed. A dusty-coloured Owl hooted from its perch, and landed on his shoulder after a short glide. He rubbed her feather's while tying the letter to its feet, he then instructed her to deliver the letter to Hogwarts and returned to the house for the much awaited feast.
It didn't took James much time to join them after he was told of the result, he patted Harry on the back and gave a mock salute while promising a fair competition in their next year. At dining table, Harry observed that the four of them looked fairly like a family, a true family indeed.
It was not untill the upcoming Thursday that Dumbledore replied his, wording it as an unseen prodigy adjoining the school and welcomed him to join the fifth year batch. It was probably a formal letter that was required for documentation, His and James' list of books and other accessories were mailed the next day by one of the school's owl.
That was another issue for Harry to ponder upon. He needed a pet, and as per his previous choice it shall be an Owl, it's way easier for him take care of one because of his experience with Hedwig. He still missed his snowy owl, whenever he saw one flying around the forest behind the manor he wished he could call out to her.
Still, he needed one. Thus, He decided that a trip to Eyelops would be necessary, the other issue was his wand.
It wouldn't be right to say he wasn't concerned about it. He knew—even after the changes in him due to the extraction of Horcrux from his soul, the Holly and Phoenix wand would dutifully accept him as its owner, since it had done so in his past life. Not only that but—bypassing the Elder one—his last wand was ought to be in Olivander's possession. However, after an evening of rotation between thoughts he concluded that Voldemort wasn't still a famed name. The first rise of the Dark lord was still into its initial stage, and his second wand could be reverted as a surprise, obviously his acting skills needed to shine again.
Charlus and Dorea decided that the trip to the Diagon alley would be carried the next day, that evening saw Sirius returning to the Potter manor. The boy had—again— sneaked out of his house to avoid a trip to Diagon alley with his younger brother. Who—according to him— was behaving like his mother's pet for a year now, and his cousins, who were too arrogant and in case of Bellatrix, on the first stage of insanity.
The four males of the house took the joke in strive, obviously in the absence of Dorea. But, Harry's mind was more inclined toward the hidden limp in Sirius' walk. He decided that a confrontation was needed with his adoptive father of past, that's why he was standing outside the boy's room.
(_-_-_X_-_-_)
He entered the room with a knock, Sirius had taken a seat on the bed unpacking his wardrobe, probably for a bath.
"Hi, Harry" Sirius greeted him jovially. "I was truly happy to see your results, mate, you outperformed both James and me" He added with a smile.
"It was nothing really, Sirius" Harry waved off the attempt of distraction, he strode forward to take a seat beside him on the bed.
He placed his hand over Sirius's shoulder that elicited a grimace from the boy, he tried to hide it but it was too late for that.
"What is it, Sirius? I know you're hurt so don't lie" Harry held his hand in front to stop Sirius from denying. "I have been hurt too many times, and I know when I see an injury, Sirius. If you do see me as brother, same as James, then you can share it with me. I promise you, I will not hold it against it you, neither will I mock you or disclose your secrets" Harry assured the boy with a kind smile.
Sirius opened his mouth to say something but closed it abruptly, and followed the suit a few time before sighing, and shook his head.
"Will you promise me that You will not disclose it infront of others?" asked Sirius dejectedly, his eyes were affixed on the ground.
"I promise to it, Sirius. You've became as much of brother to me as James during our time together" Harry replied honestly, He can see Sirius was not trustful of others. It was probably due to his treatment by his family—he was never encouraged, understood or appreciated by his own family.
Sirius had shared most of childhood's stories with Harry, it was after Harry's idiotic rant and argument with Sirius for the restriction imposed upon him for his own safety. After Harry had calmed down he had apologized to the man continuously, big as Sirius heart was he was pardoned by the very first time with an instruction to understand that Sirius loved him, and only had his best at heart. The man then had recited some of his childhood stories to Harry, the negligence and abuse he had faced by the hands of his mother, his brother's blatant support to his mother, his father intervening as little as possible and the last straw that encouraged the man to run off from his house, and settle with Potters.
Sirius nodded and abandoned the shirt he wore, Harry's eyebrows went into his hairlines at the number of scar littered across Sirius' back. How dare that vile pig hurt him like this, this wasn't way of humans. He will not let it stand like this, Arcturus was due for a call. If he didn't deemed Sirius' health important than Walburga then Harry would take it in his own hand. No things couldn't go forward as they were, changes were due and has to be carried forward quickly. Atleast with the house of Black.
"Are there any more?" Harry asked, not hiding the rage he was emitting.
"Yes, on my left leg" Sirius replied meekly, pointing to the injured part.
Harry nodded, and bent down to inspect the wounds on the Black heir's leg.
"Any more?" This time Sirius could sense the raging emotions of Harry, he wasn't that different to James. The Potter heir had reacted the same way when he had discovered his injuries, anger and a vow for vengeance.
Sirius shook his head in negative.
"Who did this to you?" Harry asked, while mumbling incantations and hovering his wand above his injuries.
"I don't want to talk about that, can I re-dress?" Sirius asked meekly.
"Wait a moment, and I will not pry if you don't want to share" Harry answered quickly, he was unfamiliar with this side of Sirius. He had always seen the confident and fearless side of Sirius, but this was just opposite of that. Meek and self-conscious.
"Agricolus vulnera" Harry whispered, his palm took a orange glow which he hovered above Sirius's back, then turned him around—and bent down to run it over his leg. The wounds hissed before closing, Sirius face reflected grimace but it soon changed into a calm demeanor.
"I'm grateful for your help" Sirius said honestly, Harry only gave a short nod in response.
"It's nothing, but I shall still ask you to share this with Mom or Dad—or both." Harry said, before patting Sirius on head—and walked to the door to leave the room.
"Can you teach me that?" Sirius questioned, looking up from the floor.
He turned around, he arched an eyebrow in question.
Sirius shuffled a little before standing upright. "I mean, Could you teach me that spell? I tend to—I mean we—Marauders tend to get in problems constantly, it would be useful for us."
James had finally informed him about the title that the four of them had adopted, he still didn't told him about their Animagus abilities, and Lupin's furry problem though. That stilled that he wasn't fully comfortable with Harry. That did little to discourage Harry from searching him and spending time with him, it was one of the things that Harry enjoyed and held dearly.
Maybe he didn't get any aide from the Death for his endeavour, but a loving family was a nice alternative to it. It gave him the motivation to stand against his old nemesis, if not for his family he wasn't sure he would ever try to fight another Dark lord.
"I will, but later" Harry responded warmly, and closed the door behind him.
The next morning saw the three Potters and one Black flooing to the Leaky cauldron to allay their business in Diagon alley, James and Sirius with Charlus while Harry with Dorea.
As informed by Arcturus, the news about Harry had certainly spread across wizarding population in small time. Yet, without a proper evidence regarding the whole fiasco the media was not keen on publishing anything regarding the matter, for everyone knew the boy was related to two of the most prominent lords of Britain, a wrong slip of tongue could prove disastrous if even either one of them were to be offended, that inability to write disappeared with Harry entering Flourish and Blotts for his school books with his family.
Apparently, A celebrity of some short was present in the bookstore launching his biography and had organised a fan-meet program. The attention of reporter present there suddenly diverted toward the new arrivals and they noticed an unknown boy with one of prominent Lords of the Wizarding Britain, this resulted in cameras and mics turning toward the group.
There were several questions asked but a firm reply of a son studying abroad was only one delivered, nothing more nothing less. The reporters dared not to draw in the ire of Lord Potter and left them on their accord, probably the nosy reporter, Rita skeeter, has not joined the journalistic clique yet.
Harry, James and Sirius bought the books as per their requirement, where Harry's pile of book was larger than the rest two. He had adopted the habit of his late friend, burying himself in the mountains of books to escape every problem, perhaps it was his way to mourn Hermione's death. He missed his two best friends too much to not adopt some of their habits as a cope-up mechanism.
Considering his new hobby Potter Manor's library was heaven for him, he had been spending prolonged hours in the room, scrummaging through books on different topics. His last mentor had indoctrined the habit into him, his knowledge of obscures and unknown wasn't something many could claim to compete with. Except Dumbledore—or Grindlewald, Nicholas Flamel was another on the list. But the last man was surely far more knowledgeable than him, he could never imagine to acquire the amount of knowledge the immortal had in spare.
They exited the shop after paying required Galleons, and approached the stationary shop. Again, Harry's pile of paper, inkpot and quill were more than the other two, the habit to scribe down everything he discovers toppled with taking random notes out of random books, he researched with. It was another of his newly developed habits.
Truly, How much Harry had changed over the course of two years was a shock—even to him. He had transformed from a meek, shy and attention hating average wizard to a strong, cunning, confident yet attention hating wizard. Gathering attention was never his intended target, but he was always seen otherwise—Mostly by his crooked nose Potion professor and that absurd Journalist, Rita skeeter.
Unanimously, Snape hadn't left a chance to belittle him ever, and had always compared him with his father with unhidden disdain and scorn. On the other side the journalist in question used to publish obscure and made-up stories about him, headaches they were—both of them.
His mind diverted toward the books he had studied in the Manor's library. Some of those were pretty rare and informative on certain topics, but there were some books that he had on his read list before his travel to the past. He had liberated them out of the Black family library after a thorough search and rearrangement of the shelves there—moreover—he had seen a journal of sort that listed every book available in the Black family.
Some of those books were on the topics which intrigued him to no end, he had to take possession of them to continue expanding his area of knowledge. He shook his head with an amused smirk, he had became too much of a book worm for the liking of his younger self or his best friend, Ron would've been horrified by his augmented inclination toward books.
Their travel ended at the familiar shop of Madam Malkin's robes, Harry was astonished to discover that the shop was at same place even before the commence of first Wizarding war. It shouldn't come as a surprise given Madam Malkin herself was an old lady, she was ought to start a business early on for it to be successful and famous as such.
They entered the shop and were greeted by the sight of the short squat woman fretting around a young boy, black short hairs, narrow face, handsome features and the tone of tit-bit baby fat fading off his face. He had semi-occasional shade of resemblance to Neville, Harry quickly put up his impassive mask on to stop leak of his curiosity.
"Frank" James exclaimed shaking his hand enthusiastically, confirming Harry's suspicions regarding the boy.
"It's nice to see you, James and Sirius" now recognised Frank Longbottom greeted the duo. He gave a short respectful bow to Charlus and Dorea, and looked toward Harry inquisitively.
"Nice to meet you..." He extended his hand in expectation.
"Harry Potter" answered the raven-haired teen grasping his hand firmly.
"Harry—Yes...Yes, Mother had informed me about you. It's nice finally meeting you" Frank said with a smile.
Harry could now see the slight resemblance between Neville and Frank when he stood up close, Neville wasn't as confident as his father nor was he confident with his words. His physical attributes were also pretty different, whereas Neville was blonde-haired and a little plump with round face, Frank on the opposite side had ebony hair with curls at scarce, was athletic in build and taller than Neville had been, probably due to him being a quidditch player—James had said so in between one of their conversation.
The tetrad soon engulfed into shopping of school robes, James' and Sirius' robes were fitted according to their growing adolescent bodies. While Harry had to buy the full set as he hadn't had one, he had ventured into muggle Britain for comfy muggle clothing that he was used to, as Dorea was unfamiliar and reluctant of such norms due her heritage, he hadn't had to incur the shopping spree of a woman.
This marked the end of need for shopping for James and Sirius, as they already had everything else required for their upcoming school year. Charlus gave them a treat in a nearby ice-cream parlour, that was surprisingly present in the alley, considering it was more of a muggle delicacy.
The ice-cream break ended and Dorea returned to the manor with two reluctant teens at her sides.
"Phew, I was worried something will cause another can of worms open, with those two you need to be attentive and vigilant" Charlus sighed softly.
"Yeah, I feared so too. They can be quit handful when they are in mood" Harry mumbled shaking his head.
"So, Now what?" Charlus asked excitedly, this was their father-son time now. Between his attempts to connect with more of his Wizengamot colleagues and his need to refine his duelling skills he was in tight schedule, his desire to spend time with his family was thus suffering.
"I will need a wand, A potion set, Some more books, and an Owl" Harry recited the list from his mind.
"Olivanders' wand are of top quality" Charlus informed him. "Potion equipment will be available in the shop beside Flourish and Blotts. As for Owl, Eyelops is the best there is"
"Olivanders?" Harry whispered uncertainly.
Charlus nodded and led the time traveller to the wandmaker's shop, the door opened with a soft twinge of bells but the old wandmaker was nowhere to be seen in his shop.
"Mr Olivander? Mr Garric Olivander?" Charlus inquired raising his voice a bit to locate the man.
Like on a cue the old man slide in on a ladder with a frown, it soon turned into a smile as his eyes fell upon Charlus and his companion.
The man hasn't changed that much through years, he still had that apprehensive air around him. It made you stop and contemplate 'if the man was really as skilled as he was regarded as'. His grey hairs, unkept around his head, his clothes baggy and his face with only a bit less wrinkles.
"Lord Potter, It's been long. Yeah, it's been long—the last wand I provided for you family was seven years ago, you're son—if I am correct" Olivander greeted them in his own manner as he descended down his ladder.
Charlus returned his gesture with a short nod of himself, and handed out his wand to the extended hand of Olivander, usual courtesy it was.
The wand was brown in colour with a high entailed pattern engraved on it, and a black coloured shaft.
The man placed his ear on the wand and rotated it a few times before nodding and returning it back to Charlus.
"In a great condition, I must say. The core of Heartstring of a female Horntail does suit you, Lord Potter, much more with the combination of Blackthorn wood" Olivander added curtly.
His eyes then fell upon Harry, and Harry found himself under a calculative gaze before Olivander beamed at him.
"You must be Mr Harry Potter, have heard about you— yes— I have." Olivander greeted him with a calm demeanor
Harry handed out his temporary wand to the man, the man touched it to his ear before scowling at it and returning it back to Harry abruptly.
"The wand doesn't favours you, Mr Potter. It's powerful, I can't deny it. But it's not made for someone of your calibre" Olivander said with a frown. "Consequently, It detests you for forcing it to perform like you intend. Hornbeam wands with a core of Snallygaster's heartstring are loyal—or I can say obsessive—over their bonded owner, even after their death."
Harry nodded in acceptance, and pocketed it.
"I must ask what happened to your original wand, Mr Potter. Not to be personal, I'm just satiating my curiosity" Garrick peered toward him expectantly.
Harry would've been offended if anybody else had asked so, a wand was something people tend to keep close to their heart. Asking about one's wand was sometimes taken as an offensive gesture, but Olivander wasn't a common man in any way possible. He knew about the old man's obsession with wands, and his quaint personality.
"We got separated three weeks ago, I will get it back but needs a wand currently" He replied vaguely.
Olivander nodded and went on his search for a suitable wand for the boy. "It seems like yesterday when your mother, father and brother came here to buy their first wand." Olivander said in reminiscent way.
Harry found himself jerked back in memories as if he had just suffered a whiplash, memories of his first visit to the shop resurfaced. An eleven year old Harry Potter anticipating nervously for his first wand, the feel of his Holly and Phoenix wand returned with full force.
Then the memories of his second visit resurfaced, It was the next day after the scrimmage in DOM. Somehow his wand had been broken in half after his fated encounter with the pale-skinned, red-eyed and no-nosed man.
*Flashback*
A disgruntled Harry, with raw Scars littered across his face, entered the wand shop with Hermione and Neville in tow. Ron was injured from the previous day's skirmish, he was also a bit bitter with Harry for not able to identify Voldemort's plot.
He tapped on the wooden desk infront and called out "Mr Olivander? Are you in there?"
The man scurried through the shop. "Ah...Mr Potter, How may I help you?" The man asked with an extended hand for Harry to handover his wand. Harry revealed his broken wand and passed it over to Olivander.
The wandmaker observed the wand very carefully before shaking his head remorsefully. "I see your problem, Mr Potter. But sadly, the wand cannot be reassembled, although the core is still intact and I will retrieve it for your need. The wand will not work as it did though, even with an another piece of Holly wood"
Harry felt heartbroken, the wand was one of his only possession that he didn't had to be taunted for. His relatives had a habit of taunting him for everything they provided, no matter how scarce they were.
Moreover, the wand had helped him greatly through years. It was rare for a wizard to have affinity for more than one wand— rare as it was, but not certainly a pleasant feeling that a wizard would look forward to.
"I will try to repair it for you, but for now you should try some other wands. I doubt your affinity has changed much" Olivander said and begun rummaging through his shop. Nearly fifteen minutes later he brought three black slender boxes for Harry to try.
"The need to try these wands didn't arose before as the Holly wand had already chosen you, but I had suspected one of these would've choose you" He handed him the first box.
A hazel coloured wand with spiral designs engraved on it was one to come out of the first box. Harry picked it up and nothing—no pull, no familiar feeling, nothing.
"That wand's similar to your Grandfather's, I thought it would choose you as you have inherited his courage" Olivander informed him, eyeing the newspaper on his desk for a brief glance.
Harry eyed the wand with a speculative eye before placing it back in the box. He didn't knew much about his Grandfather, and Mr Olivander couldn't possibly be the right person to discuss him with.
The second wand was dark brown in colour with a white shaft, Harry picked it up but the wand didn't responded adequately. Although, it did react unlike the previous wand but the feel didn't last long.
"No—No, Definitely not. This wand will not do, not do I must say" Olivander mumbled loudly and took the wand from Harry's hand. "Not your Grandmother's either." Olivander shook his head.
The last box was old, and little curved at edges, probably due to rough handling. The old wandmaker opened the box to reveal a white wand with ebony shaft. Tail of some reptile etched on the end of the shaft, and the wand was unevenly carved in a zigzag pattern, which wasn't noticeable if not looked with intention to observe just that.
Harry reached to the wand and touched it, a feeling of familiarity oozed out of it. He felt complete, the wand glowed green in his hand before shooting red and green sparks.
"Ah..an Ideal match. Of course, an ideal match it is" Olivander blurted to himself.
Harry looked upon the wand before casting a 'lumos', the shop was engulfed into blinding white light. Somehow his new wand was much more comfortable than his older one.
"Again, You've not failed to surprise me, Mr Potter. You tend to wield unusual but strong wands" Olivander muttered interjecting his thoughts.
"I'm sorry" Harry replied back still looking a little far off "I didn't catch what you said, Mr Olivander"
"Your wand, Mr Potter. It's an exact opposite to your Holly and Phoenix wand." Olivander recalled.
"I must say, You ought be a powerful Wizard, who could accomplish great things with this new wand of yours, Mr Potter" Olivander hummed to himself as usual.
*Flashback ends**
Harry was handed out an another wand, it had been half an hour. At first Olivander exposed him to similar wands to his parents' and brother'. But expectedly they didn't chose him, they didn't flickered even a little from magic except the one that was similar to Dorea. Then Olivander moved to his not so close family members, his maternal uncle, maternal grandfather and a few others. Still the wands failed to grasp his magic, and couldn't satisfy his core.
The old wandmaker was tired and excited at the same time, tired as he had tried every possible wand type on the boy, and still there was no match. On the other hand, excited, because some of the wandmaker's and his family's previous customers had same problem, and they had emerged out as some of greatest wizard in the following years.
He had tried wands specially adapt for Transfiguration, Charms, Curses, Dark arts; everything that there was. Only a few wands were left, but all of them were powerful and unparalleled.
At last, the all-so familiar box was passed toward Harry, he recognised the box, he knew the wand that'll come out of it and was feeling nervous now. He opened the box to come face to face with the white beauty that had been his loyal aid for a long time, he placed the box down and picked up the wand.
He was submerged into the warmth that his wand supplied out eagerly, and tried to encase the feeling of completeness. Why had he hesitated, the wand was his to command, it was his to wield.
However, the much awaited feeling of satisfaction didn't occur. The wand was at its edge but didn't acquired the peak. He felt vulnerable. Harry looked at the wand with a frown, his core wasn't satisfied with the magical–stick in his hand, he needed something more.
"An ideal but not a complete match. A rare instance it is, never encountered one in my life but had heard the phenomenon taking place" Olivander declared with a far off expression.
Harry placed it down on the table, the warmth emitting from it stopped abruptly.
"Don't worry, Mr Potter. I know just the right thing to solve this." Olivander declared enthusiastically.
Harry nodded and backed up.
"Don't touch it" He exclaimed as the wandmaker bent over to pick the wand.
Olivander looked up with a start.
"It'll not react nicely, It—feels...repulsive toward others" He conceded, hiding the fact that it hadn't reacted well when Hermione had tried to pick it up after one of their duels.
"Ah, A connection... I must say you surprise me to no end, you have formed quite the bond with the wand in mere second, Mr Potter" Olivander exclaimed cheerfully.
Yeah—only Olivander could find something cheerful that'd confuse others.
"What's the wood and the core, if I may ask?" Charlus asked interfering in their conversation.
"The wand is 14 inch, made up of Yew and has a core of—Basilisk horn" Olivander replied eyeing the boy with a smile.
"Basilisk horn?" questioned a gobsmacked Charlus, he spared a glance toward his son before addressing the wandmaker again. "But wasn't that the core of Salazar Slytherin's wand?"
"Yes, Was it not?" The man returned in a strange manner. "However, the core doesn't share an affinity to Dark arts as the myths proclaim" Olivander recited thoughtfully. "According to wandlore, the Basilisk horn is best for cunning yet fierce wizards."
Charlus gave a smile to the wandmaker before beaming toward the raven-haired teen.
"Add that core with Yew wood, a wood that is already known to be wielded by fiercely loyal—and—is said to bestow its possessor with the power of life and death." Olivander added with an unhidden shudder.
"But it doesn't feel complete, feels like an essential part is missing." Harry frowned upon the words that he spoke without even realizing.
"Yes—Yes, I noticed that, Mr Potter, that only acknowledges that this wand has to be upgraded according to your need" Olivander mused, retreating back into his shop.
He peeked from between the curtains, and gestured for Harry and Charlus to follow him a moment later.
They stepped through the curtain into what looked like a workshop. He signalled them to take a seat by the table in one of the corner of the room.
"I will you provide you wood samples to test, and a few cores that will append the wand to the best" Olivander muttered loudly.
Harry nodded in response, feeling a little nervous, why did he always found himself in such situations. His wand could've worked like it did in his previous life, no...it had to misbehave.
Several pieces of wood were placed on the table and he started touching them one by one, the first three didn't incited any response.
As Harry touched the fourth piece of wood a sense of belongingness enthralled into him. He picked it up and handed it to Olivander, who inspected it carefully before nodding consciously.
"Interesting, this piece of wood is from English Oak." He flagged the wooden piece before placing it beside the wand on his work table.
"In recent years I have noticed that it demands an owner full of courage and fidelity." He explained when the other two occupants gave curious looks to him.
"Wait outside, please, I will see that it's combined" Olivander instructed them before unfolding his tools for the job.
For the next fifteen minutes Charlus and Harry waited outside the wandmaker's workshop, they might have left the shop for the time being to complete their shopping. But the erratic man had not provided them with definite amount of time. So, they waited patiently.
At last the man stepped out with a box in hand, he wiped the sweats from his forehead and placed the box on table infront.
"It's done, the fastest job I've ever done" He noted tiredly. Harry moved forward and picked up the wand, this time it was more receptive to him—still absence of a critical element wasn't filled.
"It still doesn't carry what I needs, it is on its edge but that last push isn't present" Harry intoned despondently.
Olivander looked at the wand skeptically, he knew the boy wasn't lying. The wand would've celebrated with sparks if it was chosen, no the wand still missed an important element.
The wandmaker nodded before scampering back to his workshop, in a minute he returned with a vial of some sort, he placed it on the table and attached it to a stand.
"Can you place your finger over it, Mr Potter?" The man offered lightly.
Noticing Harry's frown, he explained further. "It will extract only a drop of blood, and educe your secondary core"
"A secondary core?" Charlus blurted out looking shocked. "I have never heard someone wielding a wand with two core, that's...that's highly unlikely"
"Well, I can agree on that with you, Lord Potter." Olivander accepted.
"It's not a common occurrence, and it's rather rare in Britain" Olivander replied back curtly.
Charles nodded solemnly, stealing a glace toward Harry.
"Yet, I know of a wizard that used to wield a wand with two cores, but I am under a magical oath to not disclose further than this" Olivander stated firmly.
Reluctantly, Harry placed his finger over the vial, as said by Olivander, it extracted a drop of blood. The drop changed colours several times before settling on light orange. Olivander scrutinized it with a frown, but his frown soon changed into an expression of astonishment.
"You're a surprising one indeed, Mr Potter" Olivander stated with a smile. "It will take me an hour to complete this wand, untill then, I am sure you could find a means to entertain yourself"
With that said the man paced back to his work shop.
The two Potters walked out of the store and advanced toward the shop famous for best breeds of owls in the alley, Eyelops. There were several cages hung outside the shop for customers to chose from, the Eyelops, even in his time, was famous for the variety breeds of bird.
They entered the dim-lighted shop to the viscous scent of Owl droppings, the owner tried to quash the smell by smell cloaking charms and fragrance charms. Still, He hadn't acquired best marks in Charms—probably, as the charm did little to repress the smell.
"What can I do you for you, gentlemen?" a fudgy looking man asked appearing out of nowhere. He was squat with anchor-styled beard and nearly bald, except thin patches above his ear directing to the back of his head.
"We are here to buy an owl for my son" Charlus replied pointing toward Harry who was already looking through the cages for a suitable bird.
"Caww...Nekros...Nekros" a sound came from a far off cage. Harry took a gander across the shop to locate the voice.
Finally, His sight fell upon a black cage, an onyx-coloured Raven with slight amber- coloured eyes peered toward him interestingly.
"Nekros" this time it sounded more like a question, Harry moved forward and picked off the cage from the hook and placed it infront.
"Be careful, young man. He tends to bite" The man warned him as Harry opened the door of the cage.
Harry placed his hand inside the cage for the bird to perch on, much like he used to do with Hedwig. The Raven bit his finger, as warned by the shop owner, drawing blood out of it. Harry grimaced but didn't pull out his hand. The Raven cawed again, eyeing his hand inquisitively it jumped to perch on his hand. He stood up placing the Raven on his shoulder, it settled there comfortably before picking at his ear softly.
"I will take this one, with that perch right there" Harry pointed toward a slightly longer perch. "And a bigger cage than his current one" Harry decided facing the man.
The man nodded and busied himself with the job, he shrunk one long wooden perch and picked out a big black cage and placed it on the table. Harry encouraged the bird in the cage, which it agreed after a few reluctant squacks.
"How much will it be?" Harry asked.
"25 Galleons" The shopkeeper replied.
"25? Isn't that above your normal price" Charlus intervened, frowning at the man.
"Well...No matter how much you've seen, a Raven calling on dead and delivering messages isn't a common occurrence" The man stood to his demand.
"Fair" Harry voiced in, intervening in between and placed he required number of coins on the table before moving on toward their next shop.
This went on for nearly an hour, He was able to purchase the potion kit, some more books and a trunk with extendable space and protection enchantments on it. After a brief discussion with Slughorn, he had to accept that he could make passable or even good potions if he applied to it. Additionally, his potion equipment were not of the best quality in past. That particular factor credits the quality of potion a brewer makes, better the quality of equipment; better the potion that comes out of it.
Harry readily blamed his treacherous teacher for his lackadaisical performance in the subject, the man could definitely hold a grudge. Six years of animosity— all because he couldn't forget his past with Harry's father. That was ridiculous, even if Harry tried to be nice with him his usual sneer and mocking tendencies crushed those attempts.
Snape was the one of the few people he had mused about extensively, he was torn between killing the man due to his past issues and looking after the boy, that Snape still was in the present time. He could shield the git from the constant bullying that would turn him into a spiteful bullying bastard. That also highlighted the need to lead James out of his bullying phase, in the past it had transpired because the war had taken an ugly turn during James' sixth year. This time, Harry aimed to explain him the present situation of Wizarding world and pull him out of his bullying self.
"Maisie" Called Harry kindly, the house elf appeared ever-so-ready to carry out his order. "Please take this bird and the rest back to the manor" he requested meeting the eyes of the elf.
The house elf nodded eagerly and grasped the cage, shrunken perch and the box full of potion equipment to apparate out.
"Now that's done, the wand and books are the only two on the list. Let's head back to Olivander—it's been more than an hour, he should've completed your wand" Charlus said leading Harry back to the wand shop.
The duo entered the shop with the familiar chime of the bells situated above it's door, a tired looking Olivander peeked in the shop through curtains.
"Ah, Mr Potter. I was just waiting for you to come and collect your wand." Olivander addressed him with unhidden excitement. "I've completed it, took me more than an hour to alter it according to your needs, and as you predicted, it didn't accepted my touch readily." He said inspecting his singed Dragon-hide gloves.
The man retreated back in his workshop and returned with a better looking box than before, he opened it and revealed an unique looking wand. The wand was brown in colour stripped in white, its handle was brown with a white base giving it an imperial look.
Harry picked it up and this time the warmth was much preferable than before, Harry felt complete again. The wand celebrated by firing a series of red and green sparks. The feel was strongly similar to the elder wand, obviously this wand was not as strong as the Deathstick, however it still felt powerful.
He nodded and placed the wand back into its box. "It's perfect, What did you used as a secondary core?"
"Phoenix feather, Mr Potter, Phoenix feather" Olivander replied proudly.
Charlus whistled from behind Harry.
"Those are completely opposite elements, they are contradictory to eachother and aren't known to work together" Charlus intoned wistfully.
"Truly said, Lord Potter, It was due to their particular contradictory properties that there wielders are likely polar opposite to each other." Olivander pointed out. "It seems we'll have to wait see for ourselves how does these two cores work together in the hand of Mr Potter" He finished looking at Harry with a speculative gleam in his eyes.
"How much do I have to pay you for this?" Harry questioned sheathing his wand into its cover and pocketing it carefully, a wand holster was his primary concern now.
"28 Galleons. I always take 7 Galleons for a wand, but this particular piece of art consumed more wood than an average wand and an additional core." Olivander conceded.
Harry paid the wandmaker, and exited the shop with a curt respectful nod toward the man.
"I need an another wand" Harry declared as they crossed the Gringotts.
Charlus just arched a questioning eyebrow, it was rare and prominently illegal to own two wands.
"This wand will surely have a trace on it, I can't use it to protect my self, some of the spells that I'll use are not seen in good lights by ministry." Harry elaborated his point.
Charlus nodded and they both walked on toward the unanimously frowned upon part of the alley, the Knockturn Alley.
Harry had nicked a habit to wander in the potentially shady alley, after the fall of ministry Diagon alley wasn't the safest place to be in already, atleast the occupants of the Knockturn alley didn't dared to stare or probe him.
His reputation had exceeded from the boy-who-lived to the dangerous young wizard with no sense of forgiveness or empathy, but only if provoked. Tracking, capturing, mutilating and eventually killing such vast amount of Death eaters should isolate anyone from passive interference. He was infamous and was termed as a dangerous foe to be made, he used to wander across the valley buying not-so-friendly books for his study.
The father-son duo entered the valley, drawing hoods above their head. Charlus led him through the stone graved path to a particularly isolated shop. The board on the top was clearly scrubbed down to blur its printing.
The door of the shop was made up of black wood with tinted glass, they walked in to the sight of a pretty neat shop, unlike the other shops in the alley—still the shop did had a dingy smell. Charlus touched bell on the front table with his wand eliciting a chime out of it.
"Yeah...Yeah, I am coming, no need to pluck the bell out, you gits" A grumpy yet manly voice yelled from inside.
In came a long-thin man dressed in black robes, his pale brown eyes wandering through the shop before landing on Charlus. His eye widened and he bowed down immediately.
"Pardon me, Lord Potter. I thought it was one of those lousy gits, they often come here after a fight and demand for repairs" The man apologized curtly.
Charlus waved off his concern, and motioned Harry to move infront. "My ward here needs a wand, Ghausley." Charlus turned back toward Harry before continuing. "Write about your wand's wood and core on a parchment and give him, He will make one for you"
Harry nodded and wrote it on a parchment provided to him, and passed it back to the man.
"My God! A very unique combination indeed, It wouldn't be shame if I am unable to make this wand, still care not, it's highly unlikely that it would come to that" Ghausley said peering toward Harry, and for the time being Harry felt annoyed at the man's interest in him.
"Now it's time for the vows, Adeel" Charlus demanded looking toward the man.
"Indeed, Mr Potter" Ghausley replied back swishing his wand over reciting the vow.
Harry and Charlus walked out of the shop to buy the books Harry needed.
"We don't need to return to Diagon alley for the books, the books I want will not be available their anyway" Harry confirmed leading Charlus toward the other side of the alley.
The alley, as per Harry's memory, was the regular hangout place for Dark creatures such as hags, caped vampires and other such creatures. However, apparently it wasn't so in the past, the alley still was a shady place but the dark creatures didn't dared stroll around the pathway freely.
They soon came across the shop that Harry was already familiar with, he had spent many hours in the shop in search of right books.
Harry walked in, and as expected the shop owner didn't even abandon a glance toward him. He searched a number of shelves for almost an hour, at last he collected five books, all of different sizes and colours, he paid the required amount and put the books in his shrunken trunk before exiting the shop.
"What are those books for?" Charlus questioned curiously. "I understand you're not a kid like James, of whom I've to track every activity of, still, if the books aren't allowed to be sold in Diagon alley they can't be bright" He asserted eyeing him inquisitively.
Harry sighed, he knew that he was obliged to explain some of his actions to his grandfather. Even if he wasn't his real son, and even that didn't helped much as the man had treated him nothing short of his own son.
Charlus had been patient and open-minded with him. Yet, certain preceding can't be tolerated without a question or two, the man still was his second father figure after Sirius, and Harry had slowly but surely accepted that fact.
He wasn't going to let down the man after the care both he and Dorea had gave him. After his return, he hadn't felt for even a single second that they weren't his parents.
"You don't need to be concerned, dad. These books are on blood magic, dark creatures and parslemagic" Harry clarified.
"The first two books entail the use, benefits and drawbacks of using blood magic. The third explain the magic, tradition and the right ways to kill dangerous creatures like Lethifolds, Hidebehinds and many more." Harry continued further.
Charlus nodded in understanding.
"The fourth one is about wards and medical application of parslemagic, and the last one is of spells in parsletongue" He answered honestly.
"You know how ministry is, anything that you can associate with a dark lord is banned." He explained with a knowing smile.
"What about the books on creatures? That doesn't look dark" Charles asked with a frown.
Harry rubbed the back of his head much like James.
"The ways to kill or defend yourself from the said creatures are not so pleasantly described in these books." Charlus gazed on the set of books intently before continuing on the path.
He was wrong suspect the boy even a little bit, he was a mature and responsible boy, one that doesn't needs to be supervised.
They returned to the wand shop to find the man crouched on the front desk, probing a rather distinctive looking wand with a stick. It was nearly identical to the wand he had in his pocket, although the brown was a little dim in colour and the white was slightly paler. The man looked up and gave a curt nod to the duo.
Harry bent forward and picked up the wand, the feeling of warmth and companionship it radiated was equal to the one made by Olivander.
"Strange, the wand hissed at me when I touched it. However, you picked it up rather easily, definitely strange" the man muttered eyeing Harry curiously.
"It matters not to you" Harry reprimanded sharply. "Your job was to make the wand, that you've did, name your price"
"25 Galleons, the work is one of my finest, additionally the cores and wood cost heavy" The man answered neutrally.
Harry nodded and placed the money on the counter before following Charlus out of the shop.
"Why were you harsh on him? The wand is of near perfect quality, he was just curious" Charlus inquired as they walked out of alley.
"You've experience, you might know that the shopkeepers here tends to ask too many question." Charlus nodded calmly.
"Let's get back home" Harry requested adjusting the books in his arms.
Charlus nodded and placed his hand on Harry 's shoulder to disapparated in a fragment of second.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter; All rights are reserved to JK Rowlings.