IWSC Season 3 Round 2
Title: A Magician's Wand
School and Theme: Beauxbatons (Write about a character who tries to gain control or is losing control over a given situation.)
Mandatory Prompt: 8. [Genre] Hurt/comfort
Additional Prompt: 12. [Quote] "The version of me you created in your mind is not my responsibility."
Year: 2
Word Count: 2232
Note: This is an AU
A/N: Thank you so much to my teammates Beauxbatons who patiently beta'd this story twice over for me. This story wouldn't sound as half-as-good without your efforts.
DAY 1
Lily's rented London apartment hadn't been swept for weeks. Dust clumped in most corners, and it was a miracle everything was still alive. Her rabbits looked happy, and the white doves she used in performances were cooing softly. Petunia moved through the apartment. In the bedroom on the side table were a pack of well-thumbed cards and a couple of performance wands in a drawer.
This was what it had come to. Petunia hadn't expected them to hold Lily ransom. The sisters had always been so careful. "Lily the Great" went by no surname and created magic shows that held No-Majes captive with their fluidity. In a world where Magic was as real as breathing, Lily found comfort in the illusions made by magicians.
It helped that the tiny Salem-adjacent town they had grown up in didn't mind what the girls did as long as they were happy. There was enough occult activity to hide the most eccentric parts of the witches and wizards who lived there. While Lily found comfort within a deck of cards, Petunia fell in love with woodwork classes.
It had started with tables and shelves, then coffins that held false bottoms to hide skinny assistants, and finally wands. Fake wands at first. Classic magician-style ones with white tips and a glorious look against the white gloves Lily favoured.
At least they were smart enough to let Lily finish the tour. The No-Majs would have known if something was wrong or out of the ordinary. They were always smarter than wizards gave them credit for, and Lily was an icon for a reason. Last year during Lily's Las Vegas residency, she had sold out almost all her performances.
No, the wizards had ambushed her. They had made it look like a night out gone wrong. But when Lily's assistant had shown up alone at the airport, an official Ministry of Magic envelope had arrived accompanied by a panicked MACUSA Auror.
This was Petunia's fault; she shouldn't have ignored the summons that had pestered her all year. Every wandmaker Petunia knew had answered.
Why wouldn't they? An opportunity to examine the Death Stick and replicating it was something most wandmakers dreamed of. Petunia had dreamt of it too, but it was safer for her to stay away. To reveal that the creator behind Evans Wands was a No-Maj would be risking the safety of everyone Petunia knew, and no wand was worth that. However, this was her sister, and Petunia loved Lily because all they had was each other.
Petunia took one last look at Lily's apartment. She put Lily's wand in a case, along with her sister's top hat.
Lily would appreciate the gesture.
"For the umpteenth time, I am a witch!"
Petunia heard Lily before she saw her. The cell door opened, and Lily looked up from the Ministry of Magic Auror, who was attempting to interrogate Lily. Lily looked worse than she did after a double Las Vegas show.
"Tuney, tell them they got it all wrong," Lily whined. Her voice was petulant, childish, and held none of the glamour Petunia was used to.
"Here," Petunia said, holding out the wand case and box.
Lily's gaze softened as she placed the top hat over her dirty red hair. She took her wand out of the case and rapped it smartly against her clothing. Immediately, Lily's clothes transformed into a suit that wouldn't be out of place in a theatre, and her hair was now slicked back into a bun.
"Have they fed Darwin, Enya, and the doves?" Lily asked, ignoring everyone else in the room. "No one wants to give me updates about my animals. Have they shipped them back yet?"
Petunia wanted, at that moment, to lie to her sister. If Lily believed the lie, an illusion that they were able to leave, she would not get angry at Petunia.
"Lils, they're going to keep you here. Tabs on the apartment and everything. Remember the summons I ignored? Well, I need to honour them."
Lily looked at the Auror who now seemed to cower after Lily's display of magic.
"I have a Las Vegas show in a month. I need to work, and you have sets to build and wands to sell. We can't stay here!" Lily's voice rose, panicked and uncertain.
Petunia raised an eyebrow at the Auror. He could explain to Lily what being a hostage would mean to her career. The second show series had been a dream come true, and Petunia wasn't going to try and placate her sister's anger.
Petunia left Lily. The faster she got started, the sooner they could go home, far away from the place that they had left and vowed to never come back to.
WEEK 1
Ollivander had one of the nicest workshops Petunia had ever seen. The family specialised in more traditional cores: phoenix feathers, dragon heartstrings, and unicorn hair. All common cores around this part of the world.
Petunia sat in a corner examining the Dark Lord. A book was open in front of her with his measurements taken by other wandmakers. The Death Stick followed the basic principles of wand making. It chose its wielder and changed loyalty only when its previous owner was defeated. All principles that the wands in Petunia's own shop followed.
However, Petunia couldn't understand why the man in front of her wanted another one. The whole point of wands was that every wand was as unique as its owner. Many regions of the world didn't even subscribe to wands, yet here she was, trying to figure out how to best replicate something that had been crafted by Death themself.
"It is impossible to replicate," Petunia said, after a minute.
In her hand was the Death Stick. The wand seemed smug. Petunia took off her gloves to run her hand along its grooves and ridges. While she could break down the components of this wand into the basic combination of wood, core, length, and personality, there was something about it that not even Petunia could name.
"I didn't ask what you thought. You have your orders."
Petunia tried to verbalise her reasoning. It had been a while since she had stood in front of masters and had to explain how her thought process worked.
"To replicate it, I would have to snap it in half, and you aren't dead."
The old superstition had crept up. Her teachers in New Orleans had made her keep a promise. A wandmaker was the only person who was allowed to snap a person's wand in half and that too only in death according to the beliefs Petunia had been raised with. While there were some who did otherwise (over things as small as a school expulsion), Petunia, like her teachers, believed a wizard held a connection with his wand that words could not describe.
Petunia believed it because every time she was tasked to snap a wand at a funeral, she felt the buried die a second death.
He shook his head and Petunia could see that the suggestion had angered him. "This is my world. Here, my rule reigns, and we forget old occult superstitions."
Petunia nodded. She was not about to repeat that she thought he was being unnecessarily reckless. How could a leader callously wish death upon themselves? Maybe it was too much for her American mind to comprehend, but to her, his wish was as good as signing away his freedom.
YEAR 1
Lily moved Petunia's wand making supplies to the London apartment. While Petunia appreciated her sister's involvement, neither of them would have been stuck in London had Lily not been foolish enough to do a European Tour. It was selfish for Petunia to think this way. Lily had been travelling to improve her craft (just as Petunia had done), but Petunia had begged Lily not to go, and Lily had disobeyed her. Now they were both paying a price that needn't have had to be paid.
While Petunia knew that her sister felt guilty, she had very little patience for forgiveness. Lily begged for it the best way she knew how: by making Petunia comfortable and then staying out of her way.
Petunia worked during the day. She rose as Lily crept home from whatever theatre had offered her a paying slot the night before. These shows were smaller, more intimate, and Petunia could see the toll it was taking on Lily to remain calm and grateful for the work. There was a reason why Lily sold out large theatres. Part of her sister's appeal was how extravagant the shows could be, but this was an old kind of magic. One that was reliable and helped Lily take her mind off everything. Besides, redundant work was better than no work.
It must've been the end of the first year in that apartment. Lily had set most of her doves free by then; the jobs she had managed to keep didn't require the tricks her doves could perform.
Voldemort had come over when Lily was making pancakes, a beginning of the football season tradition that Petunia swore by. Each pancake was a perfectly round dollar in size that Lily stacked up onto her sister's plate, while Petunia snapped in half what must've been the fifth iteration of the wand that had completely failed on her. She was running out of crafting material, and none of her favourite cores had worked.
Thunderbird had scorched through the dark wood. Thestral tail set in sage bark felt too clumsy. The worst had been oak with dragon heartstring. That iteration felt perfectly normal and would have been worthy of the Evans stamp had that been Petunia's goal. Hell, even bathing every wand in virgin dragon-blood (blood that hadn't ever been used in rituals) did nothing apart from give Lily and Petunia a very hard time cleaning their bathroom out.
"I don't have years to sit on this problem," Petunia complained over the pancakes.
Lily nodded but said nothing besides pointing her wand at the Wireless to hear the commentary of the football game. Dinner was Petunia and the Dark Lord (what a juvenile title) arguing over the benefits of Petunia staying. Evans Wands had been losing so much money, and Lily wasn't making enough to keep the both of them afloat for much longer.
"You guys are Ollivander loyalists. No one is buying a wand from anyone else over here!" Petunia argued. "Lily isn't even booking large shows."
He looked at Petunia as if he was seeing her for the first time. "What are her O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.'s?" he asked.
Lily spoke up. "I went to a No-Maj high school. Why would I have those?"
He took in a deep, almost angry breath and Petunia ignored him. They would figure something out; they always did.
That was the first of many dinners surrounding wands, pancakes, and arguments that Petunia knew made Lily feel small.
YEAR 5
If Petunia and Lily had to pick the best part of their lives, the winner would be Harry. Harry, at four, still loved to curl up in the space between them and fall asleep. They would do anything for him. Harry was theirs from the moments he entered the world with ten toes, ten fingers, and Lily's bright green eyes.
Petunia still hadn't managed to create the Death Stick. Lily had started to lose her patience with her sister, to the point of threatening to move out, although she needed the childcare her sister provided. While their relationship hadn't always been particularly healthy, there was a toxicity to their interactions that hadn't existed before.
The arguments with Voldemort started again. Petunia made sure that Harry was asleep and Lily was at work when they happened. Lily needed to leave, there was no point in holding her sister's life hostage, not when Petunia would stay.
Harry deserved the childhood Petunia and Lily had lived. The one with endless fields to run in and no pressure to be anything but himself. Harry deserved options that Voldemort's world would not give him. They both knew it, and Voldemort was too stubborn to admit he had failed the children he so desperately wanted to do better by.
With their pleas continuously denied, Petunia and Lily focused on teaching Hary the small magic moments. A rabbit pulled out of a bottomless tophat and cards that disappeared only to reappear. Lily made Petunia promise that they would no longer practice the kind of Magic that could bend realities. Petunia had to agree. There wasn't any safety in the Magic Lily and Harry had inherited by blood.
When Petunia broke Lily's wand (the first one Petunia had ever created at Lily's request) it was the only time she had cried during a second death ceremony. Lily stood next to her, stoic as the flames greedily swallowed up her first wand. Lily had bought an Ollivander one to replace it, she had decided to get her N.E.W.T. 's and let go of her dreams to return to Las Vegas or Salem.
It was time for them to stop dreaming about a life that could have been. Lily and Petunia had Harry to raise and they owed it to him to be better.
Maybe this was what it meant to gain control?
