Trials of Acceptability (part 1):

Sun, Dec 17th, 1977…

Severus woke up the next morning to the familiar sound of a steady tapping on glass. He smiled and tossed the covers off, feeling fairly well rested, no longer sore, and nearly bouncing with both enthusiasm and trepidation for the day's activities.

This morning, he was going to purchase his first ever wand that was his alone.

And this afternoon? He was going to meet Lord Voldemort for the first time.

Two guesses as to which thing he was most looking forward to.

As he strode over to the balcony door to let Elehootay in, his bare feet sank into the plush white carpet of his borrowed 'guest room' that had been exclusively his for years.

He was surrounded by luxury, from the Queen sized four poster, to the genuine Plumpton painting of a smirking knight on a proudly prancing black horse that bore a striking resemblance to Eclipse, to the attached bathroom with a tub almost large enough to swim in. It was definitely bigger than his entire bedroom back at home, that was for sure.

While Severus appreciated the fine quality of his quarters and the easy life of being waited upon by the Malfoy house elves, he never let himself grow dependent or attached to it, knowing that one misstep in the presence of the elder Malfoy would mean instant expulsion from the Manor and possibly even death if he was in a foul enough mood or the Dark Lord had commanded it.

He opened the sliding glass door and his owl waddled in with an indignant flap of her wings from where she'd been standing on the private balcony. "I'm sorry," he said as he conjured a small, live mouse with a snap of his fingers, holding it by the instantly appearing tail. "Did I take too long to wake up?" She squawked and flew up to rest on his pajama clad forearm while she snatched the frantically wriggling apology out of his hand and downed it in one gulp.

The large eagle-owl turned her all-knowing, golden orange eyes on him, silently demanding another treat. "Fine. One more. But that's it, you greedy thing. You know you get cranky when you don't actually do your own hunting." He chuckled and snapped his fingers again, producing another live mouse out of thin air. (Or maybe the magic actually found the nearest mouse and transferred it to his fingers. But that was a theory that had yet to be proven, considering everything else that wizards and witches were capable of conjuring from 'nothing', like a chair or fire.)

When the owl was convinced that no more treats would be forthcoming and had taken all the petting she was willing to put up with in one sitting, she flew off his arm and settled on her perch by the door for a nap.

As Severus went about his morning ablutions, he thought about the events of yesterday evening.

At dinner last night, while the family was daintily sipping pumpkin soup out of their spoons, Abraxas had suddenly looked down the long table at Severus. That piercing grey gaze had frozen him to the spot, spoon halfway raised to his mouth. And then the Malfoy patriarch had said, "I spoke to the Dark Lord about you this afternoon. He doesn't wish to wait until the wedding to make your acquaintance, so a meeting has been arranged for tomorrow evening before dinner. Our Lord is intrigued enough to deign us with his presence, and as such, we will be hosting a small dinner party to celebrate. You, Half-blood, will be on your absolute best behaviour and do whatever the Lord wishes of you, or you will become the evening's entertainment instead, is that clear?"

Severus wished his squeaked out answer of, "Of course, Sir," had sounded more confident, but at least it had gotten those eyes off of him and he'd been treated as invisible again. Aunt Elena and Lucius had both given him encouraging smiles before returning to their soup as if what Abraxas had just said wasn't alarming at all.

And then, after a five course dinner, which Severus had only picked at but had magically disappeared to save for his mum, they hadn't gone back to the living room to watch the new movie as expected. Instead, Lucius went with his father on a 'business matter' that involved them donning their Death Eater masks and robes. When they came back an hour later, Lucius had found Severus in the potions lab in the cellar and had flopped down in the comfy chair he kept for just such purposes, looking even paler than normal and somewhat spent.

"What did you have to do this time?" Severus had asked as he carefully stirred a batch of merrily bubbling calming draught.

"Took care of the Potters," came back the weary reply.

Severus had frozen momentarily before remembering that rhythmic stirring was essential or his potion would be ruined. "All dead, then?" The thought of it had made him a little sick, no matter how much he hated James Potter for stealing Lily and being a complete and total pain in his arse. The rest of the family hadn't done anything to him, and their only crime was to support their son in his choice of bride.

Who also happened to be Severus' original choice.

Lucius had scoffed at the question. "No. Just gave them a few good warning hexes before they Apparated away. I'm pretty sure I hit James with that toenail growing hex that you invented."

He'd laughed, nearly forgetting to stir again. "Excellent. He'll have a hard time snogging Lily for the next week if he's constantly having to clip his nails to avoid wrecking his socks."

Lucius smirked. "That's what I thought. Anyway, once they were gone, we made our point a little more clear by burning down their mansion and putting up a Dark Mark in the sky above the decimated ruins. People will think twice before they so openly align themselves with a mudblood like the Potters did."

Severus had ignored the word that he didn't like anymore and instead given Lucius a more thorough once-over due to the pride he'd heard in the blond's voice. The platinum fringe was slightly singed at the ends, and there was a hint of ash on his usually spotless black shoes. Suddenly, the older boy's exhausted state made sense. "Holy shite, Luc! They let you control the fiendfyre, didn't they?!" he'd blurted out.

Lucius had merely leaned forward, grinning like a cat, and steepled his fingers under his chin. "Perhaps."

Severus had huffed. "No perhaps about it. You did."

"All right. I did."

"I bet your father was proud."

Lucius had snorted as he settled back into the thickly cushioned green leather armchair. "Not so you'd notice. But our Lord did seem to be impressed that I'd passed his little test. He said my ability to control such a large amount of fiendfyre was very rare and that I'm likely to get more assignments of a similar nature."

"That's great!"

"Yeah. I'm good with burning things. Murdering people… not so much. Just don't tell Father. Or our Lord."

Severus then turned the fire down under the cauldron, his potion finally turning the appropriate shade of sky blue as he'd said, "I wouldn't."

Lucius rose from his chair and clapped Severus on the shoulder. "I know you wouldn't, not as long as you can help it, anyway." The boys had exchanged looks of understanding, and then Lucius sighed. "I'll see you first thing in the morning for breakfast, all right? I'm off to bed. I'm completely bushed."

Severus pushed his shoulder affectionately. "Go. I have plenty here to keep myself entertained."

Lucius had laughed, glancing around the well stocked lab as he aimed for the stairs. "And then some."

Severus smiled at the memory as he finished putting on his shoes, and then he was leaving his room for the aforementioned breakfast.

Severus was having a great morning so far. Perhaps even one of his favourite days of his entire life.

First, breakfast had been his favourite; strawberry waffles covered in melted chocolate. (He'd eaten eight of the scrumptious things.) And Abraxas hadn't been there, so he, Lucius, and Aunt Elena had all sat together at one end of the table and told stories about how Hogwarts had changed or was exactly the same over the course of their three different experiences at school. There'd been a lot of laughter involved in that.

Then, he and Lucius had raced to London on brooms instead of Apparating, just for the fun of it. Severus had won by a good thirty seconds.

The trip to Twilfitt and Tatting's hadn't taken too terribly long and Severus had really really liked the nearly all black suit that had been chosen for the Groomsmen. It started with a simple white dress shirt and black trousers, with a black embroidered waistcoat, and then topped by a knee length, high collared frock coat that had a multitude of tiny buttons from crotch to throat and up the sleeves. With the addition of a top hat to cover up his fine black hair, Severus had actually felt like a nobleman for the first time in his life (which, technically, he should have been, if not for blood prejudices). Lucius had even said he looked brilliant in it, and not quite so skinny.

And that was the generic, unfitted version. His tailored set would be delivered to the Manor sometime in the next week, since the high-end clothing shop was currently swamped with orders for Christmas balls, parties, and other celebrations such as weddings.

The Malfoy wedding was, of course, The Event of the Season.

After that, they'd browsed through a few book stores, looking for interesting things to add to the extensive Malfoy library, finding almost two dozen new books and one very well preserved first edition of a firsthand account of the Wizards vs Giants War from the early eleventh century. Then they'd stopped for ice cream at Fortescue's despite the fact that it was only a few degrees above freezing out. Sticking with the theme of the day, Severus had a chocolate cone with strawberry sauce.

And now, finally, they were walking through the crowded streets towards their last stop of the morning.

Ollivanders.

"I still can't believe your father broke your wand," Lucius said as they dodged around a harried looking witch and her three brawling children, who appeared to be fighting over a toy broom.

"I can," Severus relied, perhaps growling just a bit. "My father is a right bastard. And technically, it was my mother's wand. We didn't have the galleons to buy one for me back when I was eleven, and hers worked well enough for me that it didn't really matter."

Lucius turned and gawked at him, nearly bumping into a wizard dressed in outlandish purple robes. The other wizard shot Lucius a glare which was completely ignored. "What?! You never told me that! Your mum's been without a wand all this time?! If I had known, I would have…"

"It doesn't matter," Severus cut his cousin off. "Father doesn't let us do any magic at home anyway. And since she hardly ever leaves the house except to shop at the muggle stores, she really couldn't have used it."

Lucius glowered on his behalf. "Your sire really is a right bastard. I can't imagine being cut off from my magic like that. I think I'd rather lose my sight or sense of smell."

Severus snorted as they momentarily paused just outside the shopfront squashed in between two others, just like the entire shopping district. "I doubt you'd still say that if it really happened. But then again, there are some smells that I wouldn't mind never whiffing again."

"Like Filch?"

The younger male shuddered. "Merlin, yes! Does he ever bathe?"

Lucius opened the door to the sound of a little bell. "The evidence would point to the contrary. And his mangy cat isn't much better."

"I almost feel sorry for it sometimes. Filch's attachment to it is just a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Definitely."

They walked into the crowded little shop filled with rows upon rows of shelves that ran from floor to ceiling. The shelves were packed with tiny boxes, each containing a wand. Severus had never actually been in the shop before, but had looked through the windows many times with longing. Now, he was filled with wonder at the powerful hum that seemed to vibrate through him at the presence of so many magical things in one place. "Whoa," he breathed in awe.

Lucius chuckled as a decrepit old wizard appeared from the back of the shop, looking about two centuries old. His long hair was a washed out silver that paled in comparison to the platinum locks of the Malfoy males, but his faded light blue eyes still shone with keen intelligence as they raked over the young men assessingly. Severus liked him instantly.

"Young Lord Malfoy. You haven't lost or damaged your wand have you?" Garrick Ollivander raised a bushy white eyebrow at Lucius.

"No. No," Lucius laughed. "My wand is fine. We're here for my cousin. His wand was broken yesterday through no fault of his own."

Severus practically puffed up with pride that Lucius was willing to associate himself so closely with him, despite his undesirable status. He didn't even care that it might only be because the Dark Lord now knew of his existence and it was now safer to claim Severus as family; it was still the first time Lucius had openly called him 'cousin' outside of the Malfoy estate.

Ollivander turned his attention to the somewhat taller male. "And who might you be? I've never seen you in my shop before."

"Severus Snape."

One bushy eyebrow rose. "I've never heard of the Snapes, but Severus, now that's a pure-blood name. And your colouring…" the words trailed off suggestively, inviting him to fill in the blanks.

Severus flinched internally, thrusting his hurt at his parentage behind his Occlumency wall, refusing to let it show or even deign to feel it. His tone was matter of fact and emotionless as he said, "That's because Snape is a muggle name. But my mother is a Prince."

The bushy eyebrow rose higher. "Ah… You must be Eileen Prince's boy, then." Severus was grateful there was no censure in the old man's tone. "Very good, then. But how come a gentleman at your age hasn't been in yet to buy a wand?"

"I've been using my mother's wand."

"I see. And you got along well with it?"

"Yes."

Ollivander turned around and contemplated his shelves. "Hmmmm. Walnut with a unicorn hair core, correct?"

Severus gawked at the man. How could he possibly remember that from thirty-six years ago? And with how many countless wands he must have sold between then and now? "Ummm, yes."

"Good, good. I never forget a wand, you know. Made each and every one of these myself. Well, no, that's not true. There's still a few holdouts from my father and grandfather's days; wands that somehow haven't found their match yet." Ollivander pulled a wand box from the middle of a stack of like boxes and brought it to the front desk. "Here, try this. Same wood and core, twelve inches. Fairly springy."

Glancing at a grinning Lucius and receiving an encouraging nod, Severus reached into the open box presented to him. He grasped the decorative handle of the slim wand… and felt… nothing. No surge of power. No sense of welcome. Just nothing. He put it back immediately. "No."

That bushy eyebrow went back up. "Interesting. It would seem that your mother's wand worked for you because she wanted it to, and not so much because you were well matched." He took the box and put it back in its stack. Then he disappeared down an aisle. Severus leaned over sideways a bit to keep an eye on him. The old man was mumbling to himself indecipherably. He pulled out a box, shook his head at it, put it back, and wandered on.

Suddenly grabbing another box, he came back to the front with a bit of a spring in his step. "Here. Try this one. Ash with a thestral tail hair core. Thirteen inches and relatively supple. Not an easy core to get along with, but something tells me you've seen your share of trials and tribulations, even being as young as you are."

You have no idea, Severus thought as he grabbed the pale brown wand with a bit of a curve to the handle. This one, he could feel the power in as it zapped his hand just a bit. He pointed it at a plain wooden chair in a corner and, with a firm picture in his mind, said the spell to transfigure it into a Great Dane.

What he got was a black poodle puppy. It bounded around the room excitedly, jumping up on Severus's leg and looking up at him with big brown puppy eyes.

Severus frowned down at it and then sighed before picking it up and cuddling it as it licked his face madly. "This is not what I asked for at all," he said dryly between licks. He put the wand back in the box and the puppy on the desk.

Lucius burst into laughter.

Ollivander's mouth twitched up on one side. He floated the puppy back to the corner and turned it back into a simple chair. "Then we'll just have to try again."

The failed wand went back to the stack and another one appeared on the desk in its place. And another. And another.

The larch wand produced a black Scottish terrier.

The mahogany wand produced a black bulldog.

The beech wand produced a black carousel horse, of all things. Severus stared at it, appalled. Come on! That's not even a dog!

The English oak wand produced a black dog plushy. Lucius nearly died from lack of air, he was laughing so hard.

The black walnut wand produced a black Labrador retriever.

The acacia wand produced a mostly black Bernese mountain dog. Closer! Yes! Lucius was even able to take the time to wipe the tears off his cheeks and gasp in some proper oxygen.

Almost an hour after entering the store, Ollivander brought the ninth wand option to the desk and removed the lid. "All right. This is a bit of a stretch, as almost no one ever matches to ebony wood, but here you go. Phoenix feather core, and an unyielding twelve and a half inches."

Severus gingerly grasped the somewhat wavy wand, instantly feeling the power in it. Almost closing his eyes in fear of what would appear, he pointed it at the poor, abused chair, and asked for a Great Dane once again.

He got a black pony. Which immediately started to gallop around the shop, neighing loudly in fright, and bouncing off shelving units and knocking down boxes helter skelter. Lucius wheezed some more, trying not to let himself laugh quite so hard as before.

"Merlin," Severus cursed and put the wand back in its box. "Perhaps I'm not meant to have a wand."

Ollivander shot the pony with a Finite Incantatem as it galloped past his desk and it turned back into a chair. A quick swirl of his wand and his shop was restored to order. Severus had the impression that the old man had cleaned up his shop thousands of times over the years. Ollivander looked at Severus reassuringly. "Worry not, Mr. Snape. There is a wand destined for everyone. We just have to find it. And… I have an idea."

The young wizards watched curiously as Ollivander disappeared up a flight of stairs at the very back of the shop. He was gone for a solid five minutes before he came back carrying a dusty looking box that might have been black once, but was now firmly in the grey spectrum. He put the box on the desk and eased the lid off, revealing a pitch black wand that was straight as an arrow and had incredibly detailed carvings on the handle. "This, Mr. Snape, is the pride and joy of my grandfather but has never found a match in over three hundred years. It is going to take a very special witch or wizard to bond with this wand, and I'm thinking… it might just be you."

Severus was struck speechless at the honour of even being able to try such a wand. He could feel its power already like a hum in his bloodstream and he hadn't even touched it yet.

Lucius leaned over, studying the wand intently. "It is beautiful, that's for sure. What is it?"

Ollivander beamed at the wand proudly. "It's a one of a kind African Blackwood wand with a dragon heartstring core. Thirteen and a half inches and completely unyielding. It has yet to even sort of like anyone that has touched it." He nudged the box towards Severus. "Go on then. Take it. But if you feel like your hand is burning, drop it right away. I have no desire to repair another hole in my roof like the last time someone tried it."

"Who was that?" Lucius asked as Severus reached very slowly for the wand. It felt like his hand was moving through glue from the anticipation and trepidation at the thought of being rejected yet again.

"A very talented and strong boy named Tom Riddle," the wandmaker replied just as Severus grasped the handle.

Power shot up his arm and through his veins, but it didn't feel like his hand was burning per se, so he kept a hold of it. It felt like he and the wand were assessing each other for compatibility and both were pleased. Very pleased.

Lucius, meanwhile, was gawping at Ollivander like a landed fish. "Isn't that…" his voice dropped down to a whisper. "Lord Voldemort?"

The old man nodded only once.

Severus raised an eyebrow minutely, but he was too occupied with the wand that he already knew was his to care much that it had rejected the likes of the Dark Lord. (He'd gloat over it privately later.) With a confident flick, Severus turned the chair into a black Great Dane that barked at him once before he returned it to a chair.

He smiled at the gawking faces of Lucius and Ollivander and said simply, "I'll take it, please. How much?"

Ollivander blinked. Blinked again. Swallowed hard. "Umm. Seven galleons. Every wand in the store is seven galleons."

Severus extracted the necessary coins from a pocket in his winter robe and handed them over. The necessary paperwork was signed to register the wand as his. The wand went up his sleeve into the holder designed for it, causing a bit of a thrill. My very own wand! He scooped up the box that came with it carefully, considering how old it was, and then gave the old man a grateful nod just before exiting with Lucius. "It's been a pleasure, Mr. Ollivander, but I hope I never have to seek out your business again."

The ancient wizard smiled back at the tall and gangly young wizard, finally over his shock at selling something he never thought was going to leave the family. "Agreed, Mr. Snape. Agreed."

And thus, Severus Snape became the owner of the wand that had been affectionately coined by three generations of Ollivanders as, 'The Black Menace.'