Author's Note: Before starting, I would like to inform you that most of this used to be a flashback in the original version of Overlord Vulcan. But instead I've made this into its own chapter, as I'm trying to make the sages have at least more than three chapters to each saga. So if there's anything I should add to this first year, please let me know and I'll try and add it.
Chapter Seven…
The Blood Stone - Part 1!
(Diagon Alley!)
31st of July - Diagon Alley:
Even though he had been here a few times over the last few years, he was still amazed by the place with the going ons, and the noise that goes on here. Even now he wished he had about eight more eyes. He turned his head in every direction as they walked up the street, trying to look at everything at once: the shops, the things outside them, the people doing their shopping. A plump woman outside an Apothecary was shaking her head as they passed, saying, "Dragon liver, seventeen Sickles an ounce, they're mad…"
A low, soft hooting came from a dark shop with a sign saying Eeylops Owl Emporium - Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown, and Snowy. Several boys of about Harry's age had their noses pressed against a window with broomsticks in it. "Look," Harry heard one of them say, "the new Nimbus Two Thousand - the fastest brooms ever -" Whilst Harry could fly by himself, and had no real interest in brooms, he did know two girls that was interested in flying with him, so he might look into getting the new brooms for them. As he walked by the shop that sells robes, and he still didn't understand where the Wizarding World could come up to date in clothing, he thought that robes were stupid. But as he passed the shops selling telescopes and potion ingredients, Harry made a mental note he would get these along with spell books, quills, and rolls of parchment, potion bottles, globes of the moon…
"Gringotts." Hagrid called out, returning Harry to the present.
They had reached a snowy white building that towered over the other little shops. As usual standing beside its burnished bronze doors, wearing a uniform of scarlet and gold, were the Goblin Guards.
As Harry walked through the doors, he bowed to the guards. Now they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved upon them:
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.
"Never did that rhyme," Harry admitted to Hagrid, "seen it a few times, and never did understand what it meant."
"Neither did I ter be hones' with yeh," Hagrid admitted, "other 'n yeh would be mad to steal from 'em."
"On that I agree with you," Harry said honestly. He had seen the protections that the Goblins set up to protect the vaults. other than wards, they had dragons protecting them too. Only a fool would ever try to steal from the Goblins, or someone who was very powerful and had no fear of what the Goblins would do to them if they caught someone trying to steal from them.
A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they were in a vast marble hall. About a hundred more goblins were sitting on high stools behind a long counter, scribbling in large ledgers, weighing coins in brass scales, examining precious stones through eyeglasses. There were too many doors to count leading off the hall, and yet more goblins were showing people in and out of these. Hagrid and Harry made for the counter.
"Mornin'," said Hagrid to a free goblin. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's Vault."
"You have his key, Sir?"
"Got it here somewhere," said Hagrid, before Harry could say anything, he saw Hagrid emptying his pockets onto the counter, scattering a handful of moldy dog biscuits over the goblin's book of numbers. The Goblin wrinkled his nose.
Harry on the other hand said, as he took a tiny golden key from his pocket, "Don't bother Hagrid, I got a new key when I visited the bank years ago. But how come you got my key?"
As the Goblin looked at the key closely, to make sure it was the real thing, Hagrid said, "Professor Dumbledore give it to me, he said that yer parents give it ter him to look after."
"That seems to be in order." said the Goblin as Harry was wondering why this Dumbledore character had his vault key in the first place, and wondered if his parents really did give him the key to look after or not. And if not, then what was he planning to do with the key if he hadn't get a new one all those years ago.
"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," said Hagrid importantly, breaking through Harry's thoughts, throwing out his chest. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."
The goblin read the letter carefully.
"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have Someone take you down to both the vaults. Griphook!"
Griphook was yet another goblin. Once Hagrid had crammed all the dog biscuits back inside his pockets, he and Harry followed Griphook toward one of the doors leading off the hall.
"What's the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen?" Harry asked in interest.
"Can' tell yeh that," said Hagrid mysteriously. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusted me. More'n me job's worth ter tell yeh that."
Griphook held the door open for them, leading them down a narrow stone passageway, lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in - Hagrid with some difficulty - and were off.
At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried yet again to remember, the way. left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was still impossible for him to do so. He was somewhat good at remember things, might take a few tries but he would remember in the end. But here, he could not and was wondering if there was some kind of magic to stop people remembering, so making it harder to steal from them.
They plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor. "I've always wondered," Harry called to Hagrid over the noise of the cart, as he had a sudden thought come to him, "what's the difference between a stalagmite and a stalactite?"
"Stalagmite's got a 'm' in it," said Hagrid. "An' don' ask me questions just now, I think I'm gonna be sick."
He did look very green, and when the cart stopped at last beside Harry's Trust Vault, Hagrid got out and had to lean against the wall to stop his knees from trembling.
Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, allowing Harry to see his money. Harry entered his vault, and piled some of his money into a bag - a little more than normal, as he would be going to Hogwarts this year and wasn't sure if he would need anything whilst at Hogwarts, or they had some sort of shops for the students seeing it was a boarding school.
As they left the vault, Hagrid turned to Griphook and said, "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?"
"One speed only." said Griphook. Although Harry could have sworn he saw the Goblin smirk, as if he enjoyed seeing Hagrid suffer.
They were going even deeper now and gathering speed. The air became colder and colder as they hurtled round tight corners. They went rattling over an underground ravine, and Harry leaned over the side to try to see what was down at the dark bottom, but Hagrid groaned and pulled him back by the scruff of his neck.
Vault seven hundred and thirteen had no keyhole.
"Stand back," said Griphook importantly. He stroked the door gently with one of his long fingers and it simply melted away.
"If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," said Griphook.
"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked. He never seen this sort of security before.
"About once every ten years," said Griphook with a rather nasty grin.
Something really extraordinary had to be inside this top security vault, Harry was sure, and he leaned forward eagerly, expecting to see fabulous jewels at the very least - but at first he thought it was empty. Then he noticed a grubby little package wrapped up in brown paper lying on the floor. Hagrid picked it up and tucked it deep inside his coat. Harry longed to know what it was, but knew better than to ask.
"Come on, back in this infernal cart, and don' talk to me on the way back, it's bes' if I keep me mouth shut," said Hagrid.
One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts, and Harry was trying to think where he should go first.
"Might as well get yer uniform," said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, Harry, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." He did still look a bit sick, so Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone.
As Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop, he looked around to see the shop had many mannequins with different kinds of robes adorning them. This was the first time he entered the place as he never felt the need to do so before. He also saw many shelves and glass cabinets as well as counters, all full of buttons, cloths and other item to make clothes.
As he was looking round he saw the person he suspected was Madam Malkin, she was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. "Greetings dear, my name is Madam Malkin, are you Hogwarts too?" She asked just as Harry opened his mouth. "Got the lot here - another young man being fitted up just now, in fact," she explained to his slightly surprised face.
In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.
"Hello," The boy said with an air of pompousness. "Hogwarts, too?"
"Yes." Harry replied, wary of the boy, something about the way he held himself and acted seemed… off, like his politeness was fake.
"My name is Draco Malfoy, my father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands." The boy said in a bored, drawling voice. "Silly really, from what I've been told a wand picks the wizard, and not the other way around. Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow," he rambled.
The boy reminded Harry a lot of Dudley in the way he acted, he would bully his father or others until he got what he wanted, the only person he or his parents couldn't bully was Harry and that was thanks to his magic. So his brain instantly classified him as a bully, and someone to avoid if possible - the only difference between the two was one was a fat bastard and one was a thin bastard.
Oh he wasn't going to avoid him out of fear, he would kick his skinny ass if this boy got too much out of hand; no it was to avoid confrontation at his new school. He was famous and from what he knew of famous people on the telly, people watched their every move waiting for them to do something wrong and, when something happened, jumped on it, making life hard for that person. And with what he wanted to do, he would need avoid confrontation until he could learn to get away with it.
Before he could say anything, Draco asked, "Have you got your own broom?"
"No I haven't." He answered. Why would he need one when he could fly well enough on his own? He wasn't about to tell anybody about this though; he wasn't dense enough to think that what he could do was normal from what he'd seen so far. 'Why would someone confine themselves to flying a broom?' Harry mused to himself, 'Learning to fly without one would allow you to do more then you could on a broom.'
"Do you play Quidditch at all?"came the bully's second question.
"No."Harry said again, wondering what the hell Quidditch could be, maybe some kind of sport with the way this idiot asked him; he seemed to have that silly obsession in his tone that his uncle and loads of other people had for football.
"I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my House, and I must say, I agree. Know what House you'll be in yet? I'm hoping to be Slytherin…" the pale-faced boy rambled on once again.
"Houses? Are they like some kind of dorms were people sleep and that?" Harry wondered. He was going to a boarding school, and he knew from hearing from people who go to other boarding schools that the students slept in dorms. Maybe Houses were just different wings of the building?
"Yes they are." Draco answered suspiciously. "Don't you know anything about Hogwarts?" he asked contemptuously.
"No, I only found out about Hogwarts today." Harry replied honestly, not liking the tone he took.
"Are you a Half-Blood or a Muggle." Draco said, spitting Muggle in disgust.
"What's a Half-Blood?" Harry inquired.
"You must be a Mudblood if you need to ask that." Draco sneered at Harry.
Harry noticed that Madam Malkin gasped in horror as she heard Draco said Mudblood. Making an assumption, he guessed this was something that shouldn't be said in polite company, like calling someone a bitch or bastard. It was likely a racial slur, which bumped Draco up to 'racist' on his mental checklist.
Harry remained silent, since this would likely be the last time he and the blond ever spoke civilly again he may as well let him say his piece. "A Half-Blood is someone who is born from a Pureblood, someone who can trace his magical line back at least ten centuries or so, unbroken of course." Draco explained. "Normally, it's a Blood Traitor having a kid with a Mudblood or a Muggle."
"Ah, in that case I don't know if I'm a Half-Blood or a… Mudblood as you call me, as my parents were killed when I was a baby, during the war against Vold-I mean You-Know-Who, and I was raised by Muggles. For all I know, I could be a Pureblood like you seem to be." Harry grinned internally at the other boy's rapid 180 after his words sunk in.
Draco paled, there were many Purebloods families that were killed during the last war and many of them were forced to live the awful Muggles, never knowing who they were. "My… my deepest apologies, I didn't think of it like that, I-I didn't realize." Draco back peddled. He knew that, should his father hear of this, he would surely get grounded for life for turning a possible Pureblood ally against their family.
For a moment, silence reigned between the two boys before Draco opened his mouth again, "Let me explain, at Hogwarts there are four houses where you live and sleep." Draco explained, hoping that if he could make up for his earlier mistake, he might be able to gain an ally. He never thought of asking who the black haired boy was, if he did, he would have acted differently. "The houses are Slytherin - this is the house I want to be in as it prides itself for traits in cunning, resourcefulness and ambition. And it wouldn't allow Mudbloods into it."
Hearing the bit about cunning, Harry had to hold in his scoff, if that is true about being cunning he didn't think that Draco would be in it. A truly cunning person would hide what he thought of others, and would only show what he truly thinks of a person once they learn about him.
"How disgusting, look at that man!" Draco said suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and pointing at two large ice creams to show he couldn't come in.
"Oh that's Hagrid." Harry said, holding in a smirk that he knew something the boy didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."
"Oh." Draco said thoughtfully. "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"
"He's the gamekeeper." Harry corrected easily. He really was starting to dislike this boy more and more, sure he was suspicious of him, why would someone send a gamekeeper to pick up a student, wouldn't a teacher be better? They would know more about the school he was going to than a gamekeeper would, then again a gamekeeper would know about the grounds and that could be useful to know if Hogwarts Grounds were as big as Harry thought it would be.
"Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage - lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed," Draco continued with a condescending frown on his face.
"I think he's brilliant." Harry argued coldly. Inside he was smirking, with this bit of info about Hagrid often getting drunk he may be able to get info from him from time to time if he played his cards right. He knew that, more often than not, when someone gets drunk, they talk about things that they shouldn't. It would be worth his time to make friends with Hagrid.
"Do you?" Draco said with a slight sneer, forgetting that he was trying to make Harry an ally, "Why is he with you?"
"As I said my parents were killed, so the school sent him to pick me up and get my things." Getting sick of the boy's attitude he decided to rub his nose in his own shortcomings. "For someone who wants to be in the House for the cunning, you're not acting like someone for that House. In fact, if there was a House for the bold and foolish, then you would be a shoe-in."
"How dare you say I could be a Gryffindor!" Draco raged. "I'm not impulsive and foolish as them. What's your last name, I want to know who you are so I can tell my father about this insult…"
Before Harry could say something about Draco being a daddy's boy, Madam Malkin said to Draco, "That's you done, my dear."
Harry was glad to see Draco hop down from the footstool and leave, but not before Draco said as he left. "I'll be seeing you at Hogwarts, and a word of advice, be careful."
As Draco left, Madam Malkin spoke up. "I'm sorry about him dear, I'm ashamed to say that there are some people who think they're better than others because they've had magic longer than others." Madam Malkin gave a sad sigh. "And sadly the Malfoys are one such family, although Lord Malfoy, the father of that boy, knows how to keep it to himself. I wonder what happened to skip that skill in that child."
"No worries Madam Malkin, he's just a Daddy's Boy, I've dealt with them before." Harry said, getting a chuckled from Madam Malkin. "He thinks that his father can get him anything that he wants, and his father can sort it out for him. He'll be in for a rude awakening one day. So…"
It was about half an hour later, and Harry had gotten not only his Wizarding, but some new Muggle clothing for himself. Once he learned Madam Malkin could make these kinds of clothes for him he ordered himself some jeans, shirts and some other items. As he was ordering them, Madame Malkin gave him a lesson of what Mudblood meant; it implied that the individual has 'dirty blood' and it is considered extremely offensive. Harry was annoyed to say the least, but for the most part didn't care. It was an insult that he's never heard before, and thus, couldn't really bring himself to be offended when some stupid little shit referring to him as one. There was no context there, so the racial slur lacked any sort of weight.
After Madame Malkin, they went to get Harry's things from the Apothecary, Potage's Cauldron Shop, Scribbulus Everchanging Inks, a street peddler to get his telescope, and lastly Flourish & Blotts. At Flourish & Blotts, Harry had to fight Hagrid to get some of the books he wanted, like Curses and Counter Curses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian. There were a few other books that Harry wanted, but because it wasn't on the school list, Hagrid wouldn't allow it. Harry played the guilt card, saying that he wanted to learn everything that he could so he could make his parents proud of him, and he couldn't do that if he was forced not to learn. This softened Hagrid up and he allowed Harry to get the books he wanted. Harry was glad he brought his trunk with him, so he could put his things in it, otherwise he would have a lot of things to curry about.
Harry and Hagrid were outside of Apothecary and Hagrid was checking Harry's school list again to make sure there wasn't anything left apart from Harry's wand to purchase.
"Just yer wand left." Hagrid nodded to himself as he placed the parchment into his pocket again. "Oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."
"You don't have to-" Harry tried to tell him.
"I know I don't have to." Hagrid said with a smile, "But I want to… tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at, an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."
Twenty minutes later, they left the Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing. As they left the shop, Harry expressed his gratitude. "Thanks Hagrid."
"Don' mention it." Hagrid replied happily, happy to have helped a student form a bond with an animal. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Dursleys. Just Ollivander's left now; only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."
A magical wand… now this was what Harry had been really looking forward to. Sure he might be able to learn to do magic without one, but most of the wizards and witches that he'd read about had one, that or a staff. He thought that they all had one, as it made doing magic easier.
However, as they were heading towards Ollivander's Harry suddenly stopped outside of Magical Menagerie when he felt a pull from the shop. Hagrid stopped as well a few steps after his much shorter companion. "Are yeh ok 'Arry?"
"I'm fine Hagrid, I just felt some kind of… pull coming from this shop." Harry answered as he pointed at Magical Menagerie.
"A pull yeh say?" Hagrid said thoughtfully, he started to wonder if it was possible that young Harry might have felt a Familiar Pull, it was very unlikely because of Harry's age, but it wasn't impossible. He had heard stories where a person found their familiar at an early age, it was rare, but had happened before. "Why don' we go an' see if we can see wha' is pullin' at yeh?"
"Thanks Hagrid." Harry agreed before the two of them entered Magical Menagerie.
As the two of them entered the shop Harry saw many animals in cages and fenced areas. Below the cages were bags of feed and beddings, as well a few other miscellaneous items needed for the various species that the store sold. While Hagrid stayed near the door, so he wouldn't get near the cats, Harry was looking around. As he was doing so, Harry followed the pull on his magic towards the back of the shop.
As he got to the back, he saw a white kitten with black strips along its face and body. He felt the pull was coming from this kitten. As Harry was opening the case, the Sale's Wizard shouted out, "Stop right there kid, that's a dangerous animal."
However it was too late as the cage had already been opened, the cat jumped out and into Harry's arms. With the cat in his arms Harry turned back to look at the shop owner a tad condescendingly. He stroked the cat, causing it to purr; the very epitome of kitten cuteness. "He doesn't look that dangerous to me," Harry said coldly.
The Sale's Wizard looked at the scene in shock, "Impossible." He sputtered in shock and fright, "That damn thing attacked anyone that tried to buy it."
"What's wrong with him… or her?" Harry asked, wondering why the Sale's Wizard would be so frightened of a kitten.
The Sale's Wizard said, "Her, and that thing is an Ice Tigran, they're a race of powerful magical tigers."
"It doesn't look like a tiger to me, even a young one. More like a house cat really," he commented.
"That's because she's in her cat form and just a baby herself. All Tigrans have two forms, a cat form for stealth and their tiger form, which they use for fighting. In a few years, once it becomes an adult, and if it's powerful enough, it can gain a more human-like form. Often though, Tigrans with this ability don't bother using it for one reason or another. The Tigran have many different types, you can tell them apart from their fur colour. This one is from the ice tribe, granting it the ability to control ice to a degree."
Harry was impressed when he heard this, he was amazed that such creatures existed; he supposed he would have to get used to that feeling, he doubted the Magical World was through shocking him. He had to wonder if this Tigran would be fine with him when she found out he controlled fire. As from all the reading he had done, people or creatures don't often mix with the opposite element. Regardless though, it would either work out or it wouldn't, and as he thought about it he liked the idea of having such a creature, it could be useful down the line. "So how much is it for this Tigran?" Harry asked to the shock of the Sale's Wizard.
"W-what?! I can't sell it to some kid like you; it's too dangerous for you to handle." The clerk sputtered.
"Oh come on, are you crazy. Does this cute little thing look dangerous to you?" Harry asked as he tickled the kitten's belly, and to the shock of the Sale Wizard, the Tigran started to play with Harry's fingers.
"Im-impossible." The older wizard gasped. "She's attacked anyone who tried to hold it," the wizard repeated.
"Well I don't care, this little thing doesn't seem too bad to me. Either way, my magic pulled me to this little one and I won't be leaving without her." Harry said bluntly.
"Magic, pulled?" The Sale's Wizard said faintly, his eyes went wide as he realized what this could mean. "How old are you kid?"
"Eleven today." Harry replied distractedly as the kitten in his arms squirmed as Harry's fingers found the perfect spot to scratch. After years of looking after Figg's cats he knew where to scratch them to make them happy.
"Impossible. A Familiar Pull at the age of eleven, impossible." The man insisted, mostly to himself.
Growing annoyed at the man's continued disbelief Harry took a deep breath and finally asked, "A Familiar Pull? What's that?"
Hagrid was the one who answered, he had moved closer when he heard the Sales Wizard cry out. "A Familiar Pull is where a wizard or witch feels a pull towards their Familiar." At Harry's questioning look Hagrid went on to say. "hmm, the bes' way ter explain a Familiar, is that the animal is the bes' match ter a wizard's or witch's magic. Once bonded, a Familiar can help their Master in many ways, but the main way is tha' they can help control their Master's magic better. There's also some bleedover o' abilities, mostly boosted senses, which one depending on the animal, or increased balance and reaction speed fer the human. The Familiar gains increased intelligence and lifespan too. They are able ter communicate ter their Master though their link tha' they share with their Master, they can also share their feelin's and emotions though the link. Some Familiars can use some low level spells from their Master. They are also very loyal."
As Harry heard all this, he wanted this kitten even more, not only was it going to be powerful, but it would be very loyal to him too once they bonded. Something he would ask Hagrid later, but for now he needed to complete the transaction. "So how much do you want for this cute girl?" asked Harry.
Greed overcame over the Sale's Wizard; yes he was shocked that a eleven year old would have found his Familiar at a young age but still, he knew that the kid wouldn't leave without his Familiar and would pay what was asked. So, hiding the greed from his voice, "It'll be sixty Galleons for the Tigran."
Although Harry didn't know much from about Wizarding Money, from the gasp from Hagrid, he knew he was being swindled. After some thought Harry spoke up, "I don't think so, that's too much. I think ten Galleons for her is fair enough for her. You did say that she's been attacking people whenever they try and hold her, so I bet you wouldn't even get this. So I'll give you ten Galleons for her, and I'll promise to buy a carrying cage and anything she needs from here. What do you say?"
The Sale's Wizard frowned but knew he had no other choice. "Fine, you win…"
And so, after paying fifteen Galleons for the Tigran and the items needed for her, Harry and Hagrid left the store; Hagrid sneezing a few times because of the Tigran. Once they were all finished they headed towards Ollivander's.
The last shop was narrow and shabby with peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. and a single wand lying on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.
A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic. Feeling… something, behind him he spun around, his left hand up to block an attack and his right hand curled inward, ready to generate a deadly fireball at a moment's notice.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry's eyes flickered over to where Hagrid was sitting as he heard a loud crunching noise, noticing the man was sitting on a pile of splinters that used to be his chair. "You're the first in over a hundred years to be able to sense me back here before I made myself known. Oh yes, I'll be keeping an eye on you, I suspect great things from you." As this was said, an old man walked out of the shadows, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.
"Hello." Harry said awkwardly, relaxing his stance slightly.
"Anyway, I thought I would see you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You may look like your father, but you have your mother's eyes and a very similar demeanour. It seems only yesterday they were in here themselves, buying their first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for Charms for your mother."
Ollivander moved closer to Harry. He wished he would blink, the man's silvery eyes were a bit unnerving.
"Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course." The ancient man laughed, as if the very concept of a Wizard choosing a wand was so ludicrous it was comical.
"And that's where…" Ollivander suddenly reached forward and touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it." He said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands… well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"
He shook his head and then, to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid. "Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again… Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"
"It was, sir, yes." Hagrid replied.
"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" Ollivander said, suddenly stern.
"Er, yeh, they did." Hagrid admitted, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though." He added brightly.
"But you don't use them?" Ollivander sharply.
"Oh, no, sir." Hagrid said quickly. Harry noticed he gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke. He suspected he knew where Hagrid's wand was and that he used it sometimes.
"Hmmm…" Ollivander hummed, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well now, Mr. Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"
"If you mean what hand do I use, I can use both hands, but I normally use my right." Harry answered as best he could.
"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he talked. "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another Wizard's wand."
Harry suddenly realized that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.
"That will do." He said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Harry took the wand and (feeling foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try-"
Harry tried - but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.
"No, no, here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."
Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.
It took a dozen wands before they were apparently a close enough match for Ollivander to actually let him wave the things. That, apparently, was a mistake, because every one of them suddenly burst into flames. Some violently, and others were more tame but no less destroyed. One second he was holding a solid wood wand, and the next they flashed crimson, like they were made of magma for but a moment, and then just proofed into ash.
Despite the loss of nearly twenty wands Ollivander looked almost excited, rather than angry or frustrated
"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere. I wonder, now… yes, why not." Ollivander said as he went to the back of his shop and brought back a box, as he took it out he went on to say, "-unusual combination - holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."
For several seconds the wand seemed fine, he gave it a swish and reddish orange sparks poured from the tip of the wand. Something felt… off, about the wand though, and just as Harry was going to examine these feelings. The sparks pouring out of the wand tip increased. More and more sparks flew from the wand, like a firework, before it suddenly stopped. The sound of a bird giving a sort of deathly, screeching squeak before it just… imploded. With a sound like a wet cloth tearing it just collapsed in on itself. Both Harry and Ollivander stared down at the Harry's empty hand for several moments before Ollivander muttered, "Oh… so close there, I thought that that would be the one for you."
Recovering his composure Harry wondered, "May I ask why you thought it might be the one for me?"
"The phoenix whose tail feather was in that wand, gave another feather - just one other. It would have been like destiny should you have been a match for this wand when its brother - why, its brother gave you that scar. I thought that since you defeated You-Know-Who you would gain this wand too… oh well." Mr. Ollivander then had a thoughtful look appear on his face. "Mr. Potter, can I ask, do you have any skills you might want to tell me about?"
Harry wasn't sure what to do, as he didn't want to inform him nor Hagrid about his skills, Ollivander saw that Harry wasn't willing to say anything, so he said, "Mr. Potter, you may not want to answer, but I need to know. As without this information, I can't match you with the right wand.
Harry sighed, knowing that he would need to tell him if he wanted a wand. Making sure his hand was away from Hagrid he beckoned Ollivander closer and held his palm up, close to his chest. A small flame blossomed to life in his hand.
"Oh my, a Fire Elementalist, no wonder I was having problems find you a wand. I haven't had an Elementalist in a while." Ollivander said happily, his voice quiet as he picked up on the lad's choice to keep this information from Hagrid. "Now let me think. Oh yes, I think have a few wands that may be a match for you." Mr. Ollivander then went off to the very back of the shop and brought back three boxes, as he put them on the counter he said, "These belonged to three last Fire Elementals that my family knew over the years. So pick each one and see if they are a match for you."
So Harry did, but the first two did nothing for him; they didn't explode or disintegrate though, they just didn't react, so there was that at least. The moment Harry picked up the last one of the bunch he felt a burst of energy. He felt a great warmth, and his inner flame felt a connection to this wand. The air around him grew hazy the temperature in the shop skyrocketed. Hagrid panted as he and Ollivander, who didn't react at all to the heat, watched on in amazement.
When the blaze settled down Harry took the moment to examine his new wand: The wand itself was a dark red in colour, it was about a foot long give or take a few inches. However, unlike the other wands that he tried, it had a strange handle; instead of the plain looking handles, this one had a claw-like handle which held some kind of red crystal. The claw had silver scales covering it and the nails were about an inch long. The shaft of the wand was covered in a line of symbols, likely Runes from what he'd seen in Flourish and Blotts, that were just slightly darker than the wood of the wand; concealing them nicely.
"This looks amazing and it feels great." Harry said in awe.
"Bravo Mr. Potter, we have found your wand." Ollivander said proudly.
"Bravo 'Arry." Hagrid parroted.
"This is one of the oldest wands that I have in my store Mr. Potter," Ollivander explained. "Thirteen and an half inches long, Makore wood, which is excellent for light or dark magic. It be can be used to improve life, or destroy it. Its core is a Dragon Heartstring from a powerful extinct dragon known as an Archdemon. It once belonged to the Dark One-"
"The Dark One?" Hagrid asked, interrupting. Harry nodded in agreement to his question.
"He was one of most feared Fire Elementalists of his time that is on top of being the Dark Lord of his time." Ollivander began to explain. "If he were still around today he would make you-know-who look like a puppy by comparison. At the time his wand was like the rest you've seen today, but as he grew in power he wanted to make his wand more powerful. So he engraved runes onto his wand, and put an unknown focus onto it - that red gem there - it is said that the claw that holds the focus is also magical, and the wand has been altered too, but it is only a rumour. It is also rumoured to be more powerful then the Elder Wand."
"Runes? Focus? Elder Wand?" Harry asked in confusion.
"Runes are something you'll learn when you're in your third year - if you so choose - but mainly runes are magical symbols that make things more powerful." Ollivander explained. "A focus is a crystal that makes the wand not only more powerful, but helps to cast spells easier. As for the Elder Wand, it has many names, but it is from a child's story book from The Tales of Beedle the Bard, you can buy the book and look up the story 'Tale of the Three Brothers' to find out more about it and the other items that are connected to the wand. As for the Dark One, hmm…" Ollivander said thoughtfully before he pulled a dark red book from under the counter with black words The Overlord. "You should read this. This book is everything my family learned about the Overlords and about the Dark One and how he became one, it should be an interesting read for a child such as yourself."
"Overlord?" Harry wondered.
"It is a tale that not many know about, but you should find out about it in the book I mentioned before, but the main thing you should know is that the Overlord is the ruler of another realm, yes others realm exists. But like most evil people, he was defeated, though it was a close call to be honest. The only reason he was defeated was because this realm got involved, that and a few people on his side betrayed him too. In fact, the Dark One made this wand when he was the Overlord."
Harry looked at the wand in awe, this was one powerful wand with a history to it too. Hagrid looked at the wand in fear, and seeing this, Ollivander lectured sternly. "Hagrid, remember it is the person that makes the wand evil, not the other way around. So you don't need to worry, young Mr. Potter is safe and won't become corrupted because of the wand. I'll be expecting many great and interesting things from you, Mr. Potter… after all, the Dark One did great things - terrible and awful things, yes, but still great all the same. Oh and just a precaution, now that the wand has bonded with you I wouldn't suggest letting anybody else hold it; the security spells set by the previous wielder are… quite nasty."
Harry and Hagrid didn't know what to say about that, although for Harry he wasn't as bothered about it as Hagrid was. After a few moments, Harry said, "So how much do I owe you?"
"Ten Galleons for the wand and the wand holster." Ollivander answered easily.
"Wand holster?" Harry asked.
"A holster is to keep your wand safe. Coincidentally, this holster is made from the skin of the Archdemon, the same one that's heartstring is in your wand. The latent magic in the hide should give it an extra layer of protection, as it wished to protect the heart, even if both parts are no longer living." Ollivander revealed as he handed Harry a dark purple holster. "As you place the wand into the holster, the wand shrinks to fit into holster. Also as long as the wand is inside, the holster can't be seen by anybody but you, which is already on top of being impossible to summon."
"Thank you for the wand Mr. Ollivander." Harry said as he placed the wand into the holster and strapped that to his arm Once he'd done that he paid the ten Galleons for his wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.
Little did Harry know, but as he and Hagrid left the shop Ollivander chuckled as he said, "Oh yes Mr. Potter, great and interesting things are soon going to happen to you." He chuckled even more as he thought about Dumbledore, "Oh yes old friend, things won't be going as you planned… Ooh I should at least tell you about the brother wand of Voldemort's, you did ask about it…" Ollivander chuckled in myth as he thought about it, Dumbledore really wanted Harry Potter to have that wand for whatever reason. He couldn't wait to see what chaos was sure to happen in the future.
o0OoO0o
The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky as Harry and Hagrid made their way back down Diagon Alley, back through the wall, back through the Leaky Cauldron, now empty. Harry didn't speak at all as they walked down the road; he was thinking about his wand, and how it belonged to an evil Overlord. By the sounds of it, this Overlord character, was someone wanted to be like, the ruler of the world. He would have to try and learn more about him.
Harry was so deep in thought about wanting to be like the Overlord he heard about, he didn't even notice how much people were gawking at them on the Underground, with a snowy owl asleep in its cage on Harry's lap. Up another escalator, out into Paddington station; Harry only realized where they were when Hagrid tapped him on the shoulder.
"Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves," he said.
He bought Harry a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. Harry kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow.
"You alright, Harry? Yer very quiet," said Hagrid.
"Yeah I'm alright, not used to people looking at me like this," Harry admitted, "it is still all new too me. Although it is understandable, not many people buy a pet owl, so people would look at me strangely. Although I think it'll be worse when I get to Hogwarts though."
"Oh why is that Harry?" asked Hagrid.
"Well I'm famous for defeating this Dark Lord of yours, and seeing that no one has seen me for ten years, people will stare at me for it. Like the people at the pub earlier." explained Harry.
"Ah I see," Hagrid said as he understood where Harry was coming from, "if it gets ter bad, yeh can always visit me at me hut if things get too much."
"Thank you Hagrid, I might take you up the offer." Harry thanked the groundskeeper.
Before he knew it, it was time for Harry to return to the Dursleys, and after giving him a letter to give to Dumbledore, Hagrid helped Harry on to the train that would take him back to the Dursleys, then handed him an envelope.
"Yer ticket fer Hogwarts, " he said. "First o' September - King's Cross - it's all on yer ticket. Any problems with the Dursleys, send me a letter with yer owl, she'll know where to find me… see yeh soon, Harry."
The train pulled out of the station. Harry wanted to watch Hagrid until he was out of sight; he rose in his seat and pressed his nose against the window, but he blinked and Hagrid had gone. He caused Hagrid as he looked at the ticket that he give him, he had to get on Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at eleven o'clock, on September the first, but yet the groundskeeper didn't tell him how to get onto it, nor asked if he knew how to. He would have to ask a few people at the Underground Asylum to see if they knew anything.
To be Continued!
Author's Note: Here ends the first part of the new saga of The Blood Stone Saga, I would like to thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. As I said at the start, this used to be a flashback in the original, and so I hope that you liked what I have done and what I have added.
I hope what I have done with the chapter, and how I set things up in the story. I'm still looking for OC Mystics, and if you were reading the side story, I'm looking for OC Books of Zeref's: Etherious. If you can help me, please let me know of any ideas you might have. Any that I like, I'll use in this story and give you thanks for them.
Either way, I would like to thank you once again for reading and I hope you spare a few minutes to leave a review and let me know what you think of the chapter, and any ideas you might have for the future chapters, and any powers you would like to be used in the story.
Next time on Rise of Overlord Vulcan:In the next chapter, I'll be clearing up a few things, as during writing this chapter, I got a few ideas that I would have put in sooner if I thought about it. One is a meeting with the Mystic Knights, and making a deal with them. Other than that we'll have to wait and see.
Poll: What should the new name for Underground Asylum be? (Poll is also on my profile on fanfiction dot net.)
Keep it as Underground Asylum.
Elysium
Underworld Entertainment
The Abyss
'The Seventh Circle'
Request: I'm after pranks for Harry and the Weasley twins can pull, both magical and non-magical ones. I would like it if you could explain how each prank you might think of works, so I can write them down in the story.