Chapter 3: A wizard's instrument of choice

The morning sun shone from the open window to his right. A now empty glass of water to his left was placed on the bedside table. Sound of muttering of witches and wizards from the hall outside; muted by the closed door.

Alve observed his current dwelling when the hour turned to eight in the morning, having just woken up and taken some water from the glass beside his bed.

That … and the weird old man. He thought wearily and looked at the bed opposite his own. A little worried that the screwball would attack him when he woke up from his apparently deep and peaceful sleep.

He took a deep breath, wondering how he even got to this world in the first place. Last I remembered was of getting some groceries. He looked out of the window, seeing London of 1994. Getting a pensive look on his face, noticing the differences in both people and the surroundings from what he is used to; having lived in 2021 before the transit to this world.

Not coming up with an answer to his sudden travel to a previous thought fictional world, he grabbed the magazine on his bedside table. Thinking that he could worry later about his weird existence here and focus on the now instead.

Giving the magazine in his hands an odd look, seeing the moving image of a young witch holding a potion in her hand while smiling at him. Witch Weekly … Alve read its title, thinking that the Healers could have given him a more suitable one.

Not having anything else to do, he opened it to the first page. Only to see big letters that read:


Ireland's Seeker, Aidan Lynch, sighted with a young witch!


Seeker? He thought, remembering it as a position in quidditch from the popular franchise. Now a little interested in how celebrities in Britain's Wizarding World are living, he read on.


Ireland's Seeker, Aidan Lynch, was sighted last week with a young witch named Lucy in the Three Broomsticks Inn in Hogsmeade. Seeming to be having a good time, both laughing when this reporter saw them. Madam Rosmerta, the pub's proprietor, stated that the two had been there from the early morning, reaching into the late night.

We, from Witch Weekly, tried to get an interview with the couple, but they had moved to the upper floor while I interviewed the owner. Poor girl, we can only guess what the womanizer will do to her. You would think that as a Seeker playing for Ireland in the World Cup, he would have more pressing things to take care of, knowing that the semi-final with Peru will start at the end of the month. Anyhow, we were able to get more information afterwards when …


Alve suddenly stopped, seeing the word, World Cup, and thinking quickly. The Quidditch World Cup … wasn't that in the movies? He thought while looking at the moving picture of the Seeker. Is this the same year as the Tri-Wizards Tournament? He wondered, not remembering which year that event took place.

Before more thought could go into it, the door opened, letting in an older female Healer in the traditional clothes of the hospital. Alve, being embarrassed to be holding a magazine for withes, quickly placed it back on the bedside table.

"Ah, you are awake, my dear." She stated warmly, holding in her hand a clipboard while moving to the old man's bed.

"Er … yes," Alve replied, going back to his usual way of interacting with others now that he had gotten some sleep after the crazy day that was yesterday.

The kind lady walked to the screwball, checking how he is. "Do you need something, dear? I can go and get something for you to eat if you are hungry?" She directed her gaze to Alve after finding no problem with the old man on the bed, who was peacefully hugging his white sheets.

"Yes, eh, that would be good." Suddenly remembering what he and Croaker discussed the day prior, he added. "I wonder … would you maybe be able to help me with something?"

The woman – that was about to go and grab some breakfast – stopped and acknowledged the question. Now a little interested in what the resident half-snake would ask of her.

"I was wondering … I-I heard yesterday that you might be able to help me with my fear of snakes …?" The snake himself asked while looking down at his sheets, wondering if his legs were back to normal as the Healer-in-Charge said they would.

The older woman gave Alve a pitying look, knowing how hard life would be for him. "I'm sorry, my dear. But I've already given you Dr Ubbly's Oblivious Unction while you were asleep. We have given you it every day from the day you moved to this bed."

"I see …" He looked a little unsure of that answer. "What does the potion do, if I may ask?"

"It removes negative thoughts, but some scarring is known to be left." Her sympathetic look intensified, then added as an afterthought. "Although, I don't know if the effect would be different now that you are part-snake."

A little disappointed, Alve answered when she continued to look at him. "Oh, alright."

"I will bring you something to eat. Just shout if you need anything." The Healer said, turning to walk back where she came.

The young man looked at his bedding for a few seconds in thought after the older woman had walked out of the room. Wondering how he should live his life now that he is part-serpent. Would I be considered a magical beast? He thought with a sorrowful laugh, marvelling at how he takes all this so well.

Is the potion doing so I'm not panicking at the thought of being a snake? Or having traveled to a fictional world? The young man contemplated while twirling his bedding with his hands. Curiously wanting to give a peek under to see if his lower body is still a dark-green snake tail.

Curiosity winning over, he peered under the white sheet, seeing normal legs with regular blue jeans. He was right then. The weird being thought, inspecting his legs now that they were back to human.

His curiosity stated, Alve looked up and out the window. Waiting for his breakfast to be delivered to him.


Having eaten and doing his morning ritual, with the tools the hospital provided, he sat on his bed beside the window, observing the moving people on the street below. While the crazy old man was still sleeping and hugging his white sheets, completely undisturbed by the movements that had taken place in the room.

Muggles and Wizards. One in the open, the other in hiding. Alve mused, staring at one man on the street below, obviously a wizard by his inappropriate clothing. Although not the best ones at hiding in plain sight. He followed the wizard with his eyes, wondering what differences the world would have from what he remembered. Maybe I should go and explore the hospital. Alve decided, noticing the screwball changing position in his bed – not wanting to be in the room when he awakes.

Making up his mind, the half-snake moved to the door. While taking the magazine with him, he planned to change it to something more entertaining when he explored the building.

Witches and wizards moving to and fro in the hall, all wearing lime-green robes with the same crest. Must be the hospital's emblem. Alve assumed while walking in a random direction, hopefully finding something to entertain him in this pre-streaming era.

Coming to a staircase – where he saw a plate which described this floor to be for poison victims – he decided to go down; the way up was blocked by a tall older woman with a stuffed vulture as a hat.

When he reached the floor below, he saw another plate reading, Magical Bugs … and continued down again. Eventually deciding that he might as well start on the ground floor of the building.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, which seemed to lead to the reception area, the snake walked through the crowd of patients and Healers, looking for something to entertain himself with. What weird people. The non-human observed, seeing the odd aliments some of the patients have been affected with – one wizard had three hands sticking out of his head.

Alve wandered around the reception area, seeing one strange person after another, who more-often-than-not sat on rickety wooden chairs. Spotting the magazines some of them held in their hands and seeing the expressions on the people's faces – at least those who read the magazines – it did not look good for him.

They should have something to entertain the patients, right? The time-travelling man hopefully thought when he suddenly stopped. Seeing Unspeakable Ganon walking in through the entrance to the establishment followed by a tall, middle-aged wizard with a light grey robe, round-framed glasses, black eyes, and dark brown hair.

"Ah, what luck! I thought we needed to go up and get you." Ganon enthusiastically said when he spotted the wizard-snake wandering through the crowded entrance hall, directing Alve to the door as soon as he was close.

"Huh!" Alve voiced when he got dragged to the door.

"Come now, we have not much time and much to do!" The Potions Master giddily stated, dragging the poor poison victim along by the hand. While the other man that had followed Ganon walked calmly and silently after them.

"Where are we going?" The kidnapped snake unsurely asked the Unspeakable.

Ganon, who was more excited than a kid at Christmas, answered a little too loudly. "We are getting you a wand, of course!" And promptly dragged him out of the building.

Seeing no more information would come from the way too excited man, Alve turned to the stalker behind him with a look begging for more knowledge.

"Professor Croaker had mentioned to Ganon that more interesting information might come up if you were to be trained in magic. And Ganon, enthusiastic as always, immediately went to buy you a wand. Encountered me on the way out of the Department." The unknown man answered the poor snake and then added with an outstretched hand. "Oh, excuse me for not introducing myself earlier. My name is Gareth Greengrass, working as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries. A pleasure to meet you, young man."

"Er … yes," The non-human answered unsurely. Remembering to be polite and introduce himself too, he hurriedly added. "I am Alve Bokgren."

"A little shy, eh," Greengrass gave an amusingly wave of a hand. "No worries. Most would be if they were in the same situation."

Wanting to know a little more, the snake questioned a little hesitantly. "How exactly would I learn magic? I guess even with a wand, you need someone to teach it, right?"

Thinking a little about the options the young man had, the older man unhurriedly said. "Hmm, home-schooling is an option. But it might be hard finding one that would teach someone as old as you." He got a pondering look and continued a little later. "I think you could go to Hogwarts; the teachers would accept you there, I reckon, even when considering your age."

"Hogwarts?" Alve wondered, he, of course, wanted to see the magical castle but being a 24-year-old reduced to 17 and then placed in a boarding school did not sound that good from his perspective.

"Ah, right, forgot you were a Muggle," The kind Unspeakable said a little embarrassingly, rightening his glasses while doing so. "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is United Kingdom's leading school for teaching witches and wizards about magic. A boarding school, starting from age 11 continuing to age 17, sometimes 18." He stopped there, remembering the young man in front of him is 17 years old, equivalent to a seventh-year student, and added comfortingly. "However, the teachers there are experienced and kind. You do not need to worry about not being allowed to attend."

The young man, who still was being dragged to who knows where, got an uncertain look. That's not the problem. How would I explain to the other students that I'm a student seven years from now? He pondered, embarrassed about what might come if he would go to Hogwarts. Better to just get home-schooled.

Before more could be discussed on this subject, Ganon dragged him into a dingy, dark, and shabby-looking pub. "Come now, we are almost there!" The excited Potions Master exclaimed, now almost bouncing on his feet. "Hi, Tom! Bye Tom!" He greeted and bade farewell to the barkeeper named Tom, who calmly nodded to the group and observed the two men dragging a third to the courtyard in the back.

"Here!" The overexcited man said, finally stopping dragging the young man. "This is the entrance to Diagon Alley, Bokgren," Ganon explained while pointing at a brick wall in the courtyard they now were in. Turning to the young man beside him to clarify how to go through the entrance. He stopped, giving Alve a query look, noticing the magazine that the snake is holding. "Why do you have Witch Weekly with you?"

Alve, a little embarrassed, tried to answer. "Yeah … I found it when I –" But was interrupted by the Potions Master, who was now giving him a look of understanding. "I see. No problem if you are into that, just don't involve me."

"What! No, that wasn't what –" The snake tried to explain the misunderstanding to the Unspeakable, who just brushed him off, still excited about what to come in the alley. "Either way, here is the entrance," Ganon said while taping his wand on the bricks in a specific pattern, then swished his hands dramatically out – giving a great impression of an oracle giving his followers a new revelation – while proudly proclaiming. "This is Britain's magical centre," He paused for dramatic effect until more was revealed from the magically moving bricks.

"Welcome," Ganon quickly stepped to the side – still with his hands open wide – and said, "to Diagon Alley!"

And a magical centre it is. Looking through the slowly revealing bricks of the wall, a busy and crowded street was in focus. Lined on both sides with stores of varying shapes and sizes, all displaying colourful and magical wares, including glittering spell books; animals, mostly owls, but others too; robes of varying colours and sizes; telescopes; and a whole bunch of other unique and weird objects. The entire street is crawling with witches and wizards clothed in different robes with pointed hats.

"Wow …" Alve whispered when he saw the magical place – almost dropping the magazine in his hand at the unreel experience. Understanding now that he is in a real, breathing world dissimilar to his own.

"Impressive, eh." Greengrass stated, having moved beside the awed young man.

The young adult snake gave him a look, then nodded and continued watching the magical active street, wanting to relish the moment a bit longer.

Ganon, deciding that the non-human could enjoy the moment later, walked out onto the street. "Come now, we need to get you some Galleons, then off to Ollivanders for your wand."

Alve, who was rudely interrupted, followed the young Unspeakable with Greengrass. "Galleons … ah, you mean money. Where would I get that? I am broke." He questioned, hoping that they would not ask how he concluded that Galleons meant wizard's currency so quickly. But he was still curious about the answer, having really no money in this alternative reality, even with a credit card in his wallet. Since the banks would not have his bank account connected to the card in this world, and if it somehow were connected, it would be empty.

"You are technically working for the Department of Mysteries as a research subject, and as an employee of the Department, you will get paid." The gentle tone of Greengrass answered him, walking briskly beside him, trying to catch up with the eager Unspeakable. "From what Ganon told me before we met you, you already have an account set up in your name with an advanced paycheque, courteous of Croaker."

"Ah!" Was the only response provided – its owner had noticed the strange beings guarding the giant snowy white building before them. Seeing something in a movie and seeing it in reality is really two different experiences. The world traveller mused, witnessing for the first time in this world something other than human – excluding himself. Stationed between the burnished bronze doors of the white building, two goblins clad in scarlet- and gold-coloured uniforms stood guard.

Ganon, who led the group of three, walked past the two guards, nodding to them as he passed by. Imitating the excited Unspeakable, Alve did the same as a safety measure. When the three men walked through the bronze doors, entering a smaller entrance hall, Alve spotted an engraving on the silver doors leading to the next room, also flanked by goblins.

Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed
For those who take, but do not earn,
Must pay most dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.

That was not in the movies, or was it? The world-traveller thought while reading the engraving in the metal. Wondering if the text refers to the captive dragon hidden beneath the bank, guarding some vaults.

"Remember, Alve. Goblins are greedy and unkind beings," Ganon whispered to him, trying to seem like giving a piece of good advice to the young man clad in Muggle clothes and holding a magazine for witches. Although that was what he was doing, just not the kindest of advice from the goblin's point of view. "As long as you remember that, it should be fine."

Walking past the silver doors, they came upon a big marble hall filled with both goblins and humans alike and flanked by long counters along its length. All with goblins behind them, tending to some customer or just working.

The group of three went forward to a vacant counter with an old goblin behind it, Ganon coughing to get its attention. "Good morning, good sir. My colleague here is seeking to get access to a new account that has been signed to his name." Ganon shovelled Alve forward, indicating him as his colleague while handing the goblin behind the desk a key.

The goblin unhurriedly looked up, piercing first Ganon and then Alve himself with an intimidating gaze. "Name?" The being said in a scratchy tone, hurriedly taking the key. Seeming to find this whole process a waste of time.

"Alve Erik Bokgren, sir." The colleague in question rapidly answered, fidgeting with his hands where he stood by the sharp gaze from the goblin.

"Gornuk! Escort Mr Bokgren to his vault." The old goblin yelled to another goblin behind him, with similar features but younger.

The younger goblin moved towards them a little irritatedly. Taking the key from the older one behind the desk and moving towards a door a little to the side of the counter. "Follow me."

The group of now three men and a goblin went through the door and into a cavern with a cart on rails of steel above a vertical shaft. The rails were suspended by sturdy steel beams in equal intervals along the shaft's walls.

They boarded the cart, and the goblin drove it to the correct vault. Very similar to a rollercoaster, Alve thought, trying to hold himself steady in the fast-moving cart – almost dropping the magazine in his hands again in the process. The two other wizards did a much better job with this. Probably from experience. He mused, swinging to one side in a sharp curve.

When they finally reached the vault and the goblin opened it, Alve was a little disappointed, seeing only little piles of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts on the vault's floor.

"Don't be disappointed," Greengrass stated, looking at the Galleons before him, while Ganon took out a pouch and started shoving a little of all in it. "You are being paid equally as a Senior Unspeakable. It is no reason to feel dejected, rather feel proud. Many people would be envious of you."

Alve, a little startled from that information, asked. "Why would I get that much. Aren't I just a test subject of the Department?"

The not Senior Unspeakable beside him breathed in deeply before answering in a more serious tone. "Yes, you are. But do remember that you are the only living being that has travelled backwards more than 5 hours in time and survived." Alve took the pouch from Ganon, who seemed to have gathered what he thinks is enough. The group went back to the cart after Gornuk closed the vault's door. "Even without that tidbit, you are still a being who has consumed Basilisk's blood and survived. If I'm frank with you, you're receiving too little for the advances in research to the Department you will provide."

Alve gave the man a grateful smile when they boarded the cart to take them up to the surface. First job, and I receive more than both my seniors. The snake thought a little uncomfortably, knowing that both men might be a little envious of the pay he gets for just existing.

When the group of three walked out of Gringotts Wizarding Bank, according to the label engraved over the entrance to the building. They followed Ganon – who seemed to have regained his excitement after they were out of the eyesight of the goblins – to a tiny, shabby, and narrow shop. With a sign that says, Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

"Finally! Let's get you a wand, shall we!" Ganon giddily opened the door to the little store, allowing the group to go into the somewhat stuffy room beyond. With shelves upon shelves of little boxes lining the back of the store, a counter before it, and behind it sat an older wizard with grey hair, pale silver eyes and white skin. Wearing a dark brown Muggle coat, instead of the typical robes he had been used to seeing from wizards and witches until now.

"Ah, greetings, Mr Ganon and Mr Greengrass. Such a long time ago, isn't it," The old man behind the counter exclaimed when the three were through the door. The wandmaker inspected the three one by one, starting with Ganon. "Mr Ganon, long time has it been. Feels almost like yesterday you walked in here and got your wand. Ten and a third-quarter inches long, very flexible but sturdy when needed, made of Larch. If I remember correctly."

"A pleasure to see you again, Ollivander." The young Unspeakable said, evident respect in his voice when he answered the owner of the wand shop.

"It has, it has," Ollivander then turned to the oldest of his three guests. "Mr Greengrass, time files by us quickly, does it not. Nine inches, springy with a stiff handle, made of Vine. A most spectacular wand that is, few people are matched with that wood."

"Long has it been, Ollivander. A true delight seeing you are healthy still." The oldest Unspeakable bowed formally to the wandmaker, greeting him with the same respect in his voice as Ganon. "This young man beside me is here for a wand."

Ollivander turned then to the youngest of the men there, studying the young man before him. "Ah, a new face, eh, and who might you be, young man." The wandmaker asked while walking back to a shelf and inspecting some of the little boxes there.

Alve, a little excited now that he is in the very shop his would-be-wand resides in, bowed to the wandmaker formally, imitating Greengrass. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ollivander. My name is Alve Bokgren."

The wandmaker nodded and picked up a little rectangular box, having already three others in his hands, when Alve looked back up again from his bow of greeting. "Always interesting to meet someone who needs a wand." Ollivander said while placing the four little rectangular boxes carefully down on the counter, then looking silently at Alve.

The half-snake – who holds a magazine for witches in his left hand – remembering from the first movie what he should do. And picked up one of the four wands in the boxes with his empty hand, giving it a flick.

*Crash*

And the chair beside the wall to their left exploded, hurling shavings from it, almost hitting him in the face. "Oops, another, I guess." Alve embarrassingly whispered, quickly placing the wand back down in its box. "Try another one, Mr Bokgren." Ollivander encouraged while the two Unspeakables quietly observed, trying to gain more knowledge from inspecting what wand the Muggle, now wizard, will be given.

The three other wands unexpectedly produced similar results, although not the exploding kind, just destruction with a different flavour. "No, no," Ollivander muttered, now looking thoughtful, almost a little delighted if Alve had a say in it.

"Try a wand connected to serpents, maybe a Basilisk, if you have one." Greengrass gave what he hoped would be some beneficial knowledge, anticipating it would provide an informative chance for study later. Hearing that, the wandmaker gave the three men an intrigued look and turned down to the shelves with the boxes of wands and searched for a new one.

"Is this usual? Taking this long, I mean." The one who produced the destruction that can be seen in the room asked. Looking a little anxious now that he has not found a wand that matches as quickly as he hoped.

Ganon, having a curious look on his face after the destruction of the room, answered the nervous man. "Who knows. Ollivander is the best wandmaker I know. But it is the wand that chooses the wizard, so we can only wait and see."

"This," Ollivander came back to the group. Holding in his hands an open rectangular box with an almost 20 cm long wand of a pale white colour on the tip, mixed to a yellow closer to the handle, which was almost black. The wand was in the shape of a twisted snake, with the serpent's head at the end of the handle, the serpent's tail as its tip. "Seven and three-quarter inches, pliable, made of an upper tooth of a Basilisk as its core, combined with the wood of the beech tree." The wandmaker solemnly stated, staring straight into Alve's eyes behind his glasses while doing so.

"Those that have been matched with a wand made of beech will be, if young, wise beyond their years, and if full-grown, rich in understanding and experience. Beech wands perform very weakly for the narrow-minded and intolerant." The well-known wandmaker continues, giving the three men before him a look of scrutiny. "Basilisk fangs are unique as a core; I have only made this one, never known one created before it. The closest example would be Salazar Slytherin's own wand made of the horn of a Basilisk. But it is not the same."

Alve held his breath, hearing the mention of one of the founders of Hogwarts. The two Unspeakable reacted similar to himself but had intriguing looks on their faces. "Try it." The maker of the wand stated while holding the rectangular box to him for easier access.

Breathing out and reaching nervously to the unique wand – that very vividly looked like a real serpent – he felt it immediately when he grasped it. Feeling like being bathed in a sacred light, he could feel the soft warmth of the wooden bone spreading through his body from his right hand. The lights in the room flickered, and the dust cleared around him. At the end of the unreel experience, he looked up at the three now thoughtful men and said with a firm tone. "This is the one."

Ollivander gave the three men a look of intrigue after the revelation, at the end turning to the oldest of the three and inquired. "If I may ask, Mr Greengrass, why did you think a wand connected to a serpent would match well with Mr Bokgren?"

"I'm sorry, Ollivander, but that knowledge is restricted by the Ministry of Magic." The oldest Unspeakable there replied, giving the shop owner an apologetic look.

Seeing the slight disappointed frown from the wandmaker, Ganon probed. "Ollivander, may I ask from which Basilisk the fang in this wand was made from?"

Alve, who had examined his unique wand in awe, turned to Ollivander, wanting to know this as well.

The wandmaker, seeing the hopeful faces of the three men and knowing that it is only fair that the owner of the new wand should know, answered. "It was gifted to me by Dumbledore a few years back."

As soon as his answer was given, different reactions came from the three men. The youngest of them got a contemplative look, thinking if this is the same fang from Harry's second year and noticing the reaction from the two Unspeakables – who gave each other a quick glance, both having expressions of understanding on their faces.

"Well, if that is all. We better pay for the wand and leave. How much for it?" Unspeakable Ganon said in the end, giving Alve a glance to retrieve the required amount.

"7 Galleons." The proprietor of the shop stated, using his regular price for the wand.

When Alve had paid, and the three men had walked back to his room at St Mungo's – which seemed to have been abandoned by the Prince of White Sheets for now. Alve inquired after placing the magazine on his bedside table, having thought about the Basilisk's fang the whole way while holding his new wand tightly in his right hand – not wanting to drop it. "You know something about the Basilisk this fang belonged to?"

The two older men gave each other a look, wondering if they should tell their new colleague this or not. At the end of what seemed to be a long three seconds from Alve's perspective, Unspeakable Ganon answered him with a pensive expression on his face. "We do ... in fact, it's not that surprising you were matched with that wand, now that we know from where the core came from." He stared straight at the wand and continued with. "The Basilisk blood mixed in the potion you ingested was from the same serpent, I reckon. We can't be sure without asking the previous owner, but it is highly likely." He then directed his gaze to Alve's face, saying with a solemn tone.

"After all. The blood, as well as the fang, came from Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

End Chapter 3