Formerly chapter 9. A minor change was made to the components of Harry's wand.
Chapter 10: The Obligatory Shopping Chapter
July 28th 1991, Morning
Harry stood outside of a small dingy pub named The Leaky Cauldron that the bustling London crowd appeared unable to see. Their eyes moving from the bookshop on one side of the pub to the music store on the other without appearing to notice the pub between them. Next to him stood a young and smartly dressed man with long black hair. He was Waver Velvet, one of the few survivors of the 4th Holy Grail War, and the savior of the Archibald family after recently compiling his former teacher Kayneth's unorganized work into an encyclopedia. While Waver was a very poor magus, he was extremely observant and was becoming an excellent teacher. The reason he was here with Harry was because Lorelei had selected him to be the liaison between the Clock Tower and Wizards after her meeting with Dumbledore the previous week.
Harry sighed as he continued to stand before the pub. Lorelei had told him that he would be attending Hogwarts, the Wizarding school, this coming September and he was not particularly happy about it. He had been just fine as Lorelei's apprentice. She was a hard taskmaster, but you couldn't argue with the results. The Queen drove Harry hard and forced his innate talent to the limit until he stood far above his peers in both knowledge and ability. And best of all, every weekend he returned home to his family. But now he had to attend a boarding school somewhere in the middle of Scotland and learn an entirely new magic system while attempting to further his own studies in magecraft. Harry scowled as he observed the pub.
Waver was not happy either for that matter, as looking after The Queen's apprentice was not high on his list of 'things I want to be doing right now'. It was actually pretty close to the bottom of said list. While his task was important, friendly relations between wizards and magi having ended centuries ago, he would much rather continue his research instead of watching over some snot-nosed brat. And then he had to take over the brat's education in magecraft at his new school for the duration of the school year far from the Clock Tower's research materials. The sour expression seemingly etched upon his face gave evidence of his foul mood. And so, after another moment of contemplation, the unhappy duo finally entered the dingy pub.
The pub looked no better on the inside than it had from the street. It was badly lit and rather dirty. It was also fairly empty. In a corner away from the door three witches sat, pointed hats and all, drinking sherry. The bar was tended by an old man who was both bald and toothless and studiously cleaning a grimy glass. A few other customers were scattered around the establishment talking quietly amongst themselves.
Ten minutes later, a far livelier group entered the bar. It was comprised of five children approximately Harry's age, those he presumed were their parents, and a stern looking witch with square glasses and her hair up in a bun. She was most likely this "Professor McGonagall" they were supposed to meet. Upon seeing the grumpy magi, she promptly strode over and introduced herself.
"I am Minerva McGonagall, head of the Transfiguration department at Hogwarts. You must be Mr. Potter. Welcome back."
As she spoke to Harry the room quieted. Once she finished, before she could speak to Waver, there was a great deal of scraping as chairs were pushed back and the occupants of the pub practically stampeded over and surrounded the boy. A great deal of "Welcome back, Mr. Potter, welcome back", "Bless my soul, Harry Potter… What an honor", "So proud, Mr. Potter, I'm just so proud", and "Always wanted to shake your hand" was heard all at once as they crowded around Harry, so of course none of it was intelligible.
After a few minutes of this, with those who had arrived with Professor McGonagall looking on in confusion, the crowd dispersed and returned to their seats. Harry was left looking somewhat disheveled and ready to bolt at the first sign of another admirer. Meanwhile McGonagall was nearly apoplectic with rage at the tavern's other denizens, while Waver had a bemused expression and a video camera courtesy of Zelretch.
Calming herself so that she would not hex the next witch or wizard to move, McGonagall turned back to the duo to apologize for the rather excitable nature of her fellow wizards. Before she could begin, the so-far overlooked magus stepped forward.
"Waver Velvet," he said holding out his hand, "I am going to be Harry's magecraft tutor over the school year. You know, I had been informed that there would be a scene when Harry was noticed by the wizards but I never imagined that their reaction would be quite so strong, or so amusing," he said with a chuckle.
"Minerva McGonagall, transfiguration department head," she replied automatically taking his hand. "I am sorry for the reprehensible behavior of my fellow wizards, but they can be quite excitable at times."
"Don't worry about it, it caught Harry unprepared and he won't be forgetting this lesson for a while. Now, why don't you introduce us to the rest of your group."
"Very well, first we have Dean Thomas and his father," she said introducing a tall black boy, "Alex Keefe," a skinny boy with short brown hair, "Thomas Smith," a taller and somewhat bulkier boy with glasses, "Sarah Davies," a tall blonde girl, "and finally Hermione Granger," a girl with curly brown hair. "They are also starting Hogwarts in September."
"Welcome to Diagon Alley," Professor McGonagall said as the archway formed. The group stepped through and was blown away by the bustling alley. The muggleborn students and their parents were, predictably, amazed by the magic on display around them. Witches and wizards swarmed along the cobblestone lane, bustling in and out of various arcane stores purchasing every magical item imaginable. There was a precarious stack of cauldrons in front of a shop to their left reflecting the sun from their polished copper, brass, pewter, silver, and iron surfaces. Across from the cauldron shop was an apothecary which contained piles of various goods from dragon livers to newt eyes and every herb under the sun with brightly colored animated signs declaring the prices. Further down the alley to the right was a shop called "Quality Quidditch Supplies," before which many boys Harry's age were grouped apparently admiring a sleek broomstick that was a "Nimbus 2000", whatever that meant. Across from that store, many odd silver instruments could be seen in a shop's window along with piles of spell books and several large crystal orbs.
The magi were blown away for a completely different reason, the utter disregard by the wizards of using magic to perform mundane activities. This was, in their eyes, an utter waste of magic which should always be used sparingly. While there had been a very popular theory about the limited nature of magic that had held sway over the Association for centuries, it had recently been disproven, but still had a strong grip on their minds. Despite magic itself not being both limited and decreasing, there were strong limits on how much a magus could use at any given time. One must not use magic for frivolous uses, such as animating signs, because who knew what might happen later that day that would require that portion of already expended prana? Besides using magecraft was inherently dangerous, so no one had even thought to create a mystery that could do what the magi saw in the alley. If learning how to animate a sign had a decent chance to kill the magus, was it not far better to focus on more useful things?
Because of this several branches of study and their associated mysteries had been discarded as useless, such as the notorious Gradation Air. What was the point of projecting an item using pure mana that was far inferior to the item itself? Absolutely none. And so, it, like so many other branches of study, was abandoned and forgotten. At least, it was until a certain red-haired Asian spell caster managed to greatly improve it, but that would not happen for several more years.
So with amazed muggles and grumpy magi, Minerva McGonagall led her troop down the winding alley that practically glowed due to the sheer quantity of magic it had absorbed over the years to an impressive marble building.
"Gringotts Bank. It is here that you will convert your money so that we may purchase supplies for the school year. The bank is run by goblins, please be respectful to them. Despite their appearance, they are easily angered and formidable warriors."
The group passed into the building through ornate silver doors which held a warning against thieves. As they entered a large marble hall, Harry took a good look at the goblins. They were short, standing at about half the height of an adult wizard, had swarthy clever faces with beards in varying styles (most were pointy), as well as long fingers and feet. A large number of goblins sat on high stools behind a marble counter and were performing various financial activities, though to the magus-trained Harry it all appeared to be nothing more than a show. Weighing a pile of huge rubies, measuring a stack of sparkling emeralds that looked like they would barely fit into the palm of his hand, counting gold coins, inspecting diamonds through a looking glass… No one in their right mind would do such a thing in the open, appearing to be carelessly inspecting mounds of wealth, unless it was a show to impress and distract the wizards using the bank.
Impress and distract it did, as Harry and Waver's companions, along with every other wizard in the bank, could not keep their eyes off of the spectacle. However, hidden in the shadows around the edges of the room, were many armored goblins with wicked looking pikes and swords. It was almost as if they were daring the wizards to try something, to give them an excuse to slaughter them and confiscate their wealth. It was unnerving.
"Now, before we start, I need to explain the currency. Unlike with pounds, we use gold galleons, silver sickles, and bronze knuts. There are 17 sickles in a galleon and 29 knuts in a sickle. Now a galleon," the professor continued pulling the coin out, "is worth approximately 10 pounds. You will need around 50 galleons to purchase everything today."
"10 pounds? That is pure gold correct?" One of the parents asked, "If it is, then shouldn't the exchange rate be closer to 20 or 25 pounds a galleon?"
"I'll answer this one," a well-dressed goblin said stepping up to the group. "There is much more gold in the wizarding world than in the mundane world, so its price is far lower. Various spells and rituals have been created over the years capable of transmuting or creating gold, most notably the philospher's stone, leading to much of the surplus. We also have ways to ensure that gold does not find its way into the wrong economy. Now, if you will step up we will start. As the professor stated, you will need around 50 galleons to cover todays expenses. If you visit second hand stores and buy the bare minimum, you can make do with only 30. Of course, the opposite is also true. If you really wanted to, you could easily spend hundreds of galleons on this shopping trip. The item that is likely to be the most expensive, and absolutely necessary, is your wand. They cost 7 galleons."
"Only 7 galleons for a wand? How do wand makers stay in business with such a low price?"
"Government subsidies of course."
After the visit to Gringotts, and the thrilling cart ride down to his vault (thrilling for Harry at least, Waver still looked a little green), McGonagall addressed the group:
"We will split up for now and reconvene at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor at 14:00. Finding a wand can take quite a while and it will be far more productive for it to be done one at a time. Stay within this alley so I can come find the next student once the last is done. Dean Thomas, you first."
And with that, the group dispersed. Two of the students, Hermione and Thomas, made a bee-line for the bookstore while Sarah dragged her parents next door to a shop called "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions" and Alex sped in the opposite direction to "The Magical Menagerie".
"So," asked Harry, "where shall we begin?"
"According to the list," Waver responded pulling out a sheet of parchment, "you need to buy a uniform, a large number of books, your wand, and potions supplies including a cauldron, scales, and glass vials. You may also want to see what kind of magical trunks are available as you will be bringing far more than the average student along so you can continue your studies."
"Why don't we start with the potions equipment back at the start of the alley, I'm interested to see what can be done with formalcraft using wizarding ingredients."
Walking back down the alley to the apothecary, the two magi felt out of place in their formal, if old fashioned, black clothes as they were surrounded by wizards and witches of all ages wearing robes and rather absurd pointy hats. It was almost as if they were trying their best to be stereotypical.
Upon entering the small apothecary, Waver and Harry were met by an explosion of smells which mixed into a rather potent combination of bad eggs and rotten cabbages. They were also met with a much larger room than they had expected based upon how the shops in the alley appeared to be crammed together with barely enough space for a door and a window in which to display goods. This shop was obviously larger on the inside than the outside. Now this was a proper, not to mention practical, use of magic! Harry decided to make learning this ability a priority.
The two magi quickly became engrossed in the interesting goods they found and ended up buying a little of everything to experiment with- even the extremely expensive unicorn horn (at 21 galleons a piece). They had more than enough money to cover it all with their enormous funding from the Clock Tower and Harry's newfound wealth.
After spending nearly an hour making those purchases (there were just so many interesting things to play with!), they snagged a cauldron and some glass vials from across the street and headed back in towards the center of the alley. A gaggle of children still surrounded the broom store, which greatly confused the magi as broomsticks belonged in the 18th century and were only ridden by women.
A brief stop at Twilfit & Tattings later for robes of the highest quality- even if they had to wear silly robes magi would never look anything less than amazing- and picking up an interesting trunk (3 compartments! How did it work?)- they reached their true trial: the bookstore. It seemed that they were not alone in this trial, the two families that had rushed off to the store at the very beginning were still there and one of them, the boy named Thomas, was being pried off a bookcase by Professor McGonagall so he could buy his wand.
The bookstore was paradise! Thousands of books on magic freely (if one had money) available for all. The shelves towered above them forming small winding paths through the store. There was also a second floor of sorts- it was little more than a pathway around the edges of the store at a height of about 4 meters so that the higher books could be reached more easily. Harry and Waver looked around attempting to decipher the cataloguing system as there did not appear to be any logic to the store's organization. Why was astronomy next to household charms? What did transfiguration have to do with herbology? Shouldn't potions be next to herbology instead? And why in the world was the fiction section surrounded by texts on divination? Oh wait… that one actually made sense. How odd.
As Harry and Waver browsed through the shop in utter silence (sweet blessed silence) looking for interesting titles, he noticed something odd. Why was his name, or at least his original name, on a number of the fiction books? Harry Potter and the Black Knight? Harry Potter and the Ring of Power? Harry Potter and the Fight for Love? Wait what? Oh, it was just the name of a town somewhere in France. Harry let out a sigh of relief. But still, didn't the British wizards have anything better to do than write fiction about a person they knew nothing about?
Nearly an hour later and he had located and paid for the required books along with several others that looked interesting, including a couple of the "Harry Potter" fiction books. Altrouge would probably enjoy them. Another boy (Alex, if he remembered correctly) and his parents had appeared at some point while he was buried in the stacks, while Hermione had managed to create a tower of books larger than herself and was attempting to bring it to the front to pay while her parents looked on amused.
McGonagall entered the shop just as Harry and Waver left. "So, where to now?" Waver asked, "We have everything except your wand and it looks like it's not quite time for that yet."
"Why don't we go take a look at The Magical Menagerie and see what kind of creatures they have?"
"Looking to add to your collection of overly dangerous pets?"
Harry attempted to look innocent. Emphasis on attempted.
"Oh, don't try that on me, I've heard enough about your exploits to know your true motivations in visiting this shop. Fortunately, they are unlikely to have anything particularly dangerous here."
"Spoilsport."
A minute later the duo walked through the establishment's doors and were greeted with a cacophony of bird calls, screeches, hisses, and various other animal noises. All manner of creatures could be found within the shop's expanded interior. The walls were lined with cages containing everything from common toads, rats, and cats to more exotic species like jeweled turtles, puffskeins, and a very odd rabbit that turned into a top hat when startled.
If one discounted the obviously magical nature of some animals, it felt very much like your average mundane pet store. It was cramped, loud, and about half the store was dedicated to various foods and supplies that the shop's denizens required.
"This place is boring. They don't have anything more dangerous than a baby niffler here!"
"Frag you, you yellow-livered snot slug!" A rather large and rude ferret, a jarvey, called down from its cage. Harry ignored it.
"I know, where are the apple butlers? I was told there would be apple butlers." A new voice spoke up. It was Thomas, the boy who had to be pried off a bookcase and carried out of the bookstore to go buy his wand.
"Apple butlers? They are somewhere deep in the Amazon rainforest. They are amazingly dangerous, no one has ever seen an apple butler and lived to tell the tale."
"Really?"
"No kid, he's got it wrong," an adult spoke up. It was the shop's manager. "I know of exactly one person who saw one and lived to tell the tale about it. After all, if they killed every witness, how would anyone know about them?"
"I see. That makes sense. So what can you tell me about them mister?"
The shop keeper promptly launched into a tall tale of increasingly improbable events while Harry and Waver watched the gullible kid's eyes grow wider and wider. It was quite amusing to watch- telling newcomers to the magical world increasingly ridiculous stories was a time-honored tradition. Stories which, evidently, sometimes made their way into the mundane world and took on a life of their own. Harry studiously avoided thinking about the fact that Arcueid claimed to have met one of the fungoid horrors…
A few minutes later professor McGonagall entered the shop and beckoned him over.
"Mister Potter, it is time for you to get your wand. Ollivander's is just a few shops down. Come along."
They moved to leave, but before they could Harry felt a weight on his shoulder. An animal he had not seen earlier was sitting on it. It was a black cat with red eyes, two white pom-poms hanging from its neck, and a large black bow on its back. The cat peered at him curiously.
"Len?"
The cat tilted her head down slightly, batted him lightly in the face with her paw, and proceeded to make herself comfortable on his shoulder. No one else seemed to notice the odd interaction and the trio left the cramped shop for the bustle of Diagon Alley once more.
As they left the shop, Harry noticed something quite odd. A man wearing a turban was passed out on the ground1. He smelled strongly of garlic.
The wand shop professor McGonagall brought them to was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C." A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.
'Now that can't be right,' Harry thought, 'wands were not invented until around 400 A.D. Either the sign is lying or his family was involved in making mystic codes of similar uses long before wands saw use.'
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. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; only instead of books there were 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.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice, "you must be the last of Minerva's group." An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.
"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it - it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."
"How exactly does that work, the wand choosing the wizard that is?" Waver asked from behind them.
"Oh ho! A magus. I haven't met one of your kind in many years." Ollivander said turning his silver gaze on Waver. "Your kind is always so full of questions, always wanting to know more. It's hard to say exactly what makes a wand choose a wizard- it is influenced by the wizard's origin and element- but it is more than that. Wands are forged using magically conductive wood, often specially grown, and a highly magical core. The core usually comes from a powerful magical creature, usually a dragon, unicorn, or phoenix. Because the core is so magical it draws in raw mana and gains a sort of limited sentience. That is why the wand chooses the wizard. It uses its limited sentience to connect to the core of the wizard most suited to it. You can cast spells with the wand of another, but it will never quite work right."
"Interesting. So, how do element and origin affect the type of materials used in the wand?"
"Ah, now that is a fun discussion. Unfortunately, we do not have time to begin it now, young Harry has a wand to find after all. Perhaps we can meet up later to discuss the topic at length? Now Harry, what arm is your wand arm?"
"I am right-handed, so my right arm I supposed."
"Hmm… good. Why don't we try this one to start off with," Ollivander said reaching for one of the long narrow boxes. "Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just give it a wave."
Harry did. Nothing happened. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand and quickly replaced it with another. The second wand was just as quickly removed, as was the third, and the fourth, and the fifth, and on and on until there was a small pile of wands next to him.
"You know, since I know my element and origin, wouldn't it be easier if I…"
"No, no, no! There's no fun in that. I've already eliminated many possibilities and can tell that your origin isn't a standard one. I do love having tricky customers!"
And so it continued, Ollivander would give Harry a wand, he would wave it about to no effect and then they would try again. After another thirty minutes of futility in which the pile continued to grow Ollivander stopped and carefully picked out a slightly different box while muttering "I wonder…"
When Harry held this wand he felt his magic thrum and the wand became warm to the touch. And then it began to burn before suddenly exploding violently showering them both with burnt chips of holly wood.
"Well now, I can't say I've seen a negative reaction that strong before. Most interesting… It seems that the wand for you has not been crafted yet."
"We magi do not know much about wands, but Harry is a special case and his guardian thought something like this might happen and prepared some components for you."
"Oh? And what might these components be?"
"Ones you have never seen before. A branch from the Devouring Forest of Einnashe," Waver pulled out a black branch upon which crimson veins ran. "A hair from the White Princess of the True Ancestors," a long golden hair was brought forth. "And finally a vial of blood donated by the Eclipse Princess of Black Blood," a small vial full of a black liquid. "Do be sure to use these components in their entirety when creating Harry's wand."
Ollivander took the components with shaking hands. "What did you say your element and origin were?"
"I didn't. I'm not sure what my origin is, but my elements are blood and wind."
"Yes, these will do very nicely. Interesting, most interesting. Come back in a month for the finished wand. Such fine components will require time and care to craft. There will be far too much of a rush for new wands to do any work for at least the next week."
The group, with the exception of Harry and Waver, reconvened at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor after completing their shopping at 2pm. Harry and Waver arrived nearly ten minutes later as they had been in Ollivander's for over an hour. The expedition's other members had already collected their ice cream and were seated around a table outside enjoying the sunshine prompting Harry to order his own frozen treat- dark chocolate and raspberry.
"So," McGonagall started once Harry had reappeared, "what was your favorite part of the day?"
"The bookstore!" Thomas and Hermione immediately answered with great enthusiasm. The large and heavy bags their parents carried gave evidence to their response.
"The apothecary," Harry responded next.
"Oh? That's an unusual answer. Could you tell me why?"
"There are a great number of unusual ingredients that I've never seen before. Figuring out how they work, what their magical properties are, and how to use them in formalcraft will be both fun and challenging."
"What? You plan to do work before school even starts? What kind of monster are you?" Alex questioned in mock-horror.
"The studious kind," Hermione responded promptly. "I, for one, plan to read and memorize all of my books before school starts so I can be ready. There's just so much new to learn!"
"What about you Sarah?" McGonagall interrupted, hoping to cut off any bickering before it could begin.
"Oh, um, I really liked Ollivander's."
"What stood out to you in particular?"
"Well, just the atmosphere you know? All of these old and beautiful wands crammed in this narrow shop brimming with magic and mystery."
"In that case you will love Hogwarts. And what about you, Dean?"
"The magical pet store. Seeing all of the different and interesting new animals was great! I wanted to get the jarvey but me pa didn't approve."
"That, I understand. Especially as jarveys are not allowed in the castle. They are both too rude and too messy. Thinking of pets, did any of you buy one?"
"Well, I found this little cutie." Hermione answered pulling a small orange kitten with a smushed face from a carrier. "I haven't decided on his name yet though."
"Very nice. Cats make wonderful companions."
"I found Len, or rather Len found me." Harry said as the afore mentioned feline jumped from his lap to his shoulder.
"Oh?"
"Yeah, she's kinda like my sister's familiar but none of us have seen her in years. Not sure what she was doing in that shop or how she recognized me, but here she is."
"Aw, she's adorable!" Sarah gushed coming over to pet Len.
"Dean," McGonagall asked turning to him, "did you get a pet?"
"Unfortunately no. After pa struck down the jarvey, I wanted the niffler. He's a right cute little bugger, but after hearing about it from the store keep we decided against it. Then I wanted one of those clever rats that were doing tricks, but me pa don't like rats and we have a cat at home that would probably eat 'im so no pet just yet. I'll find me a good one eventually. Do they allow dragons into Hogwarts?"
"No they do not. Dragons tend to be rather large and vicious creatures. Wizards are careful to keep them on reserves far from civilization." Professor McGonagall stood up, "now, before we leave, do any of you have questions you would like answered?"
"Er, yes."
"Go ahead then Thomas."
"What is quidditch? I passed that store a couple of times and was wondering what the big deal was."
"Quidditch is the main wizarding sport in western Europe. It is played on broomstick with teams of 7 and is rather complicated. I would be happy to tell you more, but we are running out of time. Do know that we play it at school, but first years are not allowed to participate as the game can be quite rough. Are there any other questions?"
This time it was Waver who spoke up. "How are the insides of the shops bigger than the outsides?"
"That is the effect of a tricky piece of work called an extension charm. Or in this case, because it is placed on a large object and is permanent, an extension ward. We actually have one covering this entire shopping district as without it there would barely be enough space for a single store between the various muggle buildings surrounding us.
Now, I need to return to the castle and finish preparing for the coming year. Here are your tickets for the train," she handed each student an elaborate ticket with the words 'Platform 9 ¾' on it before continuing. "To reach the platform, simply walk through the dividing column between platforms 9 and 10. It is an illusory barrier with some special charms to prevent anyone who does not know of the platform's existence from noticing it or the people entering it. We have special arrangements for those of you travelling long distances and will be sending additional instructions by owl. I will see you all on September 1st, have a good day."
August 28th, Ollivander's
Ollivander returned from the back of the shop, moments after Harry arrived to claim his new wand, carrying a long black box.
"It took all of my skill to complete the wand. It may be the finest work my family has ever created. Here, take it."
The wand's base color was pure black- it almost seemed to absorb the light around it and darken the room. Glowing crimson lines ran down its length twisted into complex and elegant floral designs. Near the base, just above the handle, there were numerous runes of power which Harry had never encountered before. The handle was smooth and beautifully carved with the crimson lines radiating out of the base before twisting around the handle forming more runes. The wand fit his hand well, if not quite perfectly as it seemed to have been designed with his growth in mind. Warmth suffused his being as the wand gorged itself on his magic, the runes upon it glowing with barely repressed power. There was a sudden sharp pain in his hand, an odd stinging and numbness. Harry winced and exclaimed: "It bit me!"
"Ah yes, due to the wand's components it is vampiric in nature. It will drain both blood and magic, strengthening its ties to you and those of your blood while likely rejecting all others." Ollivander held up his heavily bandaged hands, "It was very difficult to make, more difficult than I had imagined as it attempted to drain me dry at every opportunity. It is exceedingly voracious. Do be careful with it."
"Him," Harry corrected. "This wand is obviously male in nature despite most of its components being from women. At least I don't have to worry about him draining me dry due to my nature. Figures I'd end up with a vampire wand, why can't my life be normal?"
"Normal is overrated. Besides, I like your new wand. It's cute!" Altrouge interjected.
"When did you get here Alt? I thought I came alone?"
"Just now, and you did. I just wanted to see your new toy. Now, why don't you give the wand a swish. I think it is ready."
Ready it was. An aura of dark crimson surrounded it as the wand thrummed with power. Harry raised the wand and brought it down decisively. As he did, the energy pooled at its rounded tip before releasing all at once when his arm was horizontal. The magic exploded outwards and then condensed into a sphere in the middle of the shop with a great 'whoosh' of sound that was felt more than it was heard. The sphere was a deep crimson color and had circular regions that were both lighter and darker as it emanated its baleful light upon the shop while slowly spinning. Despite its eerie appearance, the light energized and invigorated him. "That's my boy," he heard Altrouge whisper beside him before she pulled him into a gentle hug. A minute later the sphere dissipated and the shop returned to normal.
Altrouge held Harry a minute longer before releasing him and turning to the wand maker who stared mutely at the location of the orb, struck dumb by its appearance and power.
"So," Altrouge asked him, "what else can you tell us about the wand?"
Collecting his wits, Ollivander responded. "Well, it's exactly 13 inches long and unbreakable. Normal wands can bend and, if put under too much stress, break. This wand can do neither. It cannot bend and it cannot break. It is simply not in the wands nature. At the handle, the wand is nearly 1" in diameter and it tapers down to ⅛" by its tip."
"What about the runes?" Harry asked.
"On the handle are runes of absorption, flow, and storage to help the wand draw magic, and in this case blood, from its wielder. The middle half of the wand has runes of power, amplification, and strengthening to increase its potency. Near the tip are runes of control, binding, and restraint, as without them the wand's power output would simply be too great to ever do any delicate magical work. Spells involving power and force, massive wide-scale spells will be easy. Spells requiring subtlety and careful control such as enchantment and many transfiguration spells will be quite hard to master."
"Interesting," Altrouge responded. "So how well does this wand compare to some of the more famous wands such as, say, the Deathstick?"
"It doesn't. This is one of the most powerful wands every crafted, but the Elder Wand, the Deathstick, is in a category of its own. You see, most of that wand's potency is derived from its legend. Its legacy of death and destruction, of never losing a straight duel, that gives it power. Were it a mere wand like any other, this would surpass it. Perhaps in time this wand will garner a legend of its own, but until then it simply falls short."
"The Deathstick is a noble phantasm? How interesting," Altrouge mused to herself. "I had my suspicions about that, thank you for confirming them. I wonder how strong it is… perhaps a C-rank? No, its legend is greater than that. B-rank perhaps? I'll have to track it down and find out." Then, turning back to Ollivander, "Thank you for your hard work, how much do we owe you?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Being allowed to work with such fine materials and ensuring my family's name becomes part of what I'm sure will be a legend is payment enough."
"Hmm… I cannot let such a fine work go unpaid. How about this: you may have three of my hairs to use in future wands. Just be very careful with who gets those wands."
Ollivander stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. "What did you say your name was, my lady?"
"Altrouge Brunestud, the Eclipse Princess of Black Blood."
-End Chapter 10-
1- Omake: Quirrell's Phobia
Quirrell was taking a stroll down Diagon Alley, covertly casing Gringotts bank for his upcoming break in. He was just passing by the entrance of The Magical Menagerie when he heard something… disturbing. Quirrell stopped and moved closer to the open door, just to make sure he heard correctly.
"Apple butlers? They are somewhere deep in the Amazon rainforest. They are amazingly dangerous, no one has ever seen an apple butler and lived to tell the tale."
He froze, shivers wracking his body. Apple butlers. Oh merlin, they must have found him and were here for their revenge! All those years ago while travelling through the Amazon and he had only just barely escaped. The nightmares still followed him, refusing to release him from their grasp.
His vision began to blur. He could still hear him, hear his friend. He could hear the long-dead William; hear the words he spoke on that day as they hacked their way through the jungle in high spirits. He could see him now walking beside him, chatting excitedly about the ancient temple they had uncovered that morning. He heard his own voice, as if it was coming from a great distance, or as if the speaker was underwater.
"William, don't you think we should be a bit quieter?"
"Hmm… whatever for?"
"Well… I've heard that apple butlers can be found in this area."
"Apple butlers? Really?"
"Yeah, so we need to be quieter. They are attracted by loud noises."
William snorted, then broke out into raucous laughter. He laughed and laughed and laughed until he was bent over gasping for breath. "Oh Quirinus, didn't anyone tell you? Apple butlers don't exist."
William had barely taken a single step before there was a crashing from above. Quirrell could just make out a large green apple-shaped object before it smashed into his friend and immediately engulfed him. He backed up slowly as the quivering mass began to reform and took on a grotesque appearance that approximated human form. It was composed of mottled blacks and greens with some brown highlights and undulated rhythmically. The darker parts of its appearance were positioned in such a way that it almost appeared to be wearing a dark suit with a bow-tie. The creature was fully formed now and William was gone. It took a slow, shaking step towards him, then another with a bit more confidence and a bit less shaking.
Quirrell pulled out his quivering wand and tried a spell. The jet of red light splashed harmlessly against the monster. He tried again. This time the jet of blue light missed completely. It was getting closer. He tried a fire spell this time- incindio- but it only singed the monster releasing a putrid smell of death and decay. It seemed angry now, or as angry as a sentient fungoid monster could appear to be.
It was too much, Quirrell bolted. He ran from the horror. He ran from the thing that had just consumed his friend. He ran for his life. There was a rumbling to his left, a hill shrouded in vegetation. Quirrell dove forward as another monstrous apple thing crashed out of the undergrowth right behind him. He picked himself up and continued to run. There was more rumbling and crashing, but he had to run. He must escape!
His breath came out in wheezes and black was entering the edges of his vision. More and more and more appeared- an endless horde. He had to get away, he had to! He risked a look back and saw their shambling shapes closing in. Then his foot caught on a root hidden in the leaves and he fell heavily on the ground.
They were before him too now. There was no escape. No escape. no escapE. nO eScApe. NO ESCAPE. He pulled his wand back out in one last desperate attempt to drive them off and unleashed all of his fear, terror, disgust, sorrow, anger, and every last drop of his magical energy into his spell.
"Fiendfyre."
Author's Note:
And so the Apple Butler makes its triumphant return! My original omake had Quirrelmort learning of the Apple Butler for the first time and running off to find it never to appear again, but this one is more interesting. It (the apple butlers) may appear from time to time in the future. I'll leave it up to your imaginations as to how exactly poor Quirrel managed to escape the horrifying apple butlers.
Some of you wanted to see the discussion between Dumbledore and Lorelei. My original intent was to put that in this chapter, but it just didn't work. Perhaps at some point in the future I'll have another Dumbledore-perspective chapter and include the meeting. The most obvious effect of the meeting that is shown in this chapter is Waver's new position. There are others which will appear as the story progresses.