The Wand Chooses the Wizard..
By Andrea "TheCopperDragon2004"
Oh, and just in case you live under a rock and are new to the whole concept of "Harry Potter," these characters are not mine, they belong to JK Rowling. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.
Part 3:
Though it was many years after he visited Ollivander, Snape remembered well the day that he was truly thankful his wand would allow him to remove curses and hexes. It had allowed him to save not only one life, but two…
Scarlet red blanketed the wet floor, spreading like an opening flower in the water. The pale blond boy lay on the stone flooring, growing even paler, shaking from shock and blood loss. Harry stood above him, too stunned to try to help or even react to the grisly sight that met his eyes.
Severus strode into the bathroom, took in what had obviously happened within a second, and immediately kneeled by Draco. He had no idea if his healing spell would even work, since Potter had actually cast the harmful spell.
"Vulnera Sanentur," Snape murmured, as he slowly trailed the tip of his wand across the boy's stained white shirt. He held his breath for a moment before exhaling softly in relief; he could feel the continuing damage the spell was known for coming to a halt.
"Vulnera Sanentur," he murmured a second time, and could now feel the magic pulling away from Draco's body, undoing the damage and returning the blood to the body where it was so desperately needed. Severus wanted to jerk his hand away from the retreating magic; it felt wrong, tainted. Though Sectumsempra was his spell, his creation, another wand had cast this particular round, and the ebony wand in his hand seemed to be able to tell that it was not Severus's magic it was currently manipulating.
"Vulnera Sanentur," he intoned a third time, and the remaining blood disappeared from the white fabric. Severus knew that beneath the cloth, the skin was healing properly, and if he could get the boy to Poppy quickly enough, Draco would likely avoid even minor scarring from the spell.
Snape looked back up at Potter with thinly-veiled loathing and contempt; he was still standing frozen as if under the Full Body Bind Curse. The stupid boy had nearly killed another student. Had he succeeded, he would have ended up locked up in Azkaban, "Chosen One" or not. To Snape's fellow Death Eaters, incarcerated for their past crimes, Christmas would have come early; they'd be clamoring over who had the right to actually kill him in the name of the Dark Lord. Severus would have put his money on Bella, if she hadn't already escaped.
Indeed, it was with a thankful heart, and a fiercely scowling expression, that Severus strode through the hallways of the school that afternoon, seeking out the one who deserved punishment of the likes that Hogwarts had not seen in many years..
It had been the winter holidays before the young Severus had dared to return to Ollivander's shop as instructed. After making an excuse to his mother that he was going to Lily's (for she did not know that his childhood friend had abandoned him, and he had absolutely no intention of telling her), he Apparated to Diagon Alley.
The shop looked exactly as it had both previous times he had been here; it appeared that little changed in the shop, ever. The little bell above the door tinkled merrily as he walked inside.
"Hello, Mister Ollivander?" he called out in the silence.
From somewhere back in the bowels of the shop, the old man's voice replied. "Mr. Snape?" The Wandmaker appeared from the back of the shop and gave the younger wizard a smile. "It is good to see you again. I hope Minerva wasn't too harsh on you?"
"No, sir, considering," Severus answered with a slight grin. Ollivander had to have spoken to her on his behalf. "I'm actually back to see about the last riddle in regards to my wand.."
"You want to know about the second core," Ollivander supplied. Severus nodded. "Well, I trust since you're on holiday I won't have Minerva barging into my shop again?"
"No, sir, I should think not."
"Very well. Let's at least be comfortable, shall we?" Ollivander again conjured a pair of comfortable chairs, then sat quietly for a moment, studying the young wizard before him. The boy still did not appear to be any happier than he had been in the autumn when he had stopped by. In fact, if anything, he now seemed unhappy and incredibly introspective. This was not the bright-eyed, interested youth that had previously come looking for answers about his wand.
"Bee in your bonnet, Severus?"
Severus started, surprised that the old man seemed to know what he was thinking. Both Ollivander and Headmaster Dumbledore had that particular talent, which equally unnerved and annoyed Severus. Maybe it was a gift that came with age. Maybe they both simply knew him well enough to read him like a book. He met the older man's eyes and sighed.
"Yes, sir," he stared at the black wand in his hand for a moment then launched into what was clearly bothering him. "Over the years I've done really well at potions, and casting charms and hexes and things, as you said, and I was just wondering if I was only this good.." here he seemed to lose his nerve. The old man wouldn't understand, not really. He was a Wandmaker- and an incredibly gifted one- he'd probably never had to live a day in his life wondering if he truly had any talent or skill. Wondering if he was anything better than ordinary.
"You're wondering if you are only talented because of your wand," Ollivander supplied quietly.
Snape nodded, eyes on his wand in his lap. He felt like a fraud, a charlatan. "My boy, do you remember the day you found your wand in my shop?"
Severus nodded. "Of course. When none of the wands worked for me I was nearly frightened out of my wits because I thought, perhaps, I was a Squib. Then this little Ebony wand took pity on me." The corner of his mouth quirked up in what would later become his trademark self-deprecating sneer. Ollivander nodded to himself- he could see why this young man had been tormented by the thoughts running through his head. "Severus, I must clarify something for you, something I don't think you fully understand of yourself."
The dark eyes of the young man met his own.
"None of the other wands would perform for you because they would not be a match for you."
Severus blushed and looked at his hands in his lap, embarrassed.
"No, I do not mean that you were beneath them," Ollivander explained softly. "I mean that they were beneath you." Severus's forehead wrinkled as he pondered what the old man had just told him.
"The day you came into my shop with your mother, I could already tell that you were a bright and clearly powerful young boy. I believe that the wands I presented you with would not work because they would not be able to meet your demands. You would have, in essence, burned through them. You needed a wand worthy of the energy you would wield through it, capable of augmenting and channeling that power.
"You are only able to use this wand because you are so powerful. Your wand would not work for a lesser witch or wizard, just as a lesser wand would not work for you," he stated. This boy might have doubts about many things in life, but the old wandmaker wanted it perfectly clear to the young man that he could do anything he chose to put his mind to.
Severus nodded to himself, digesting this information.
"Now," Ollivander said in a more brisk tone. "You wanted to find out about the second core."
The young man sat straighter in his chair and nodded, eyes shining once again as they got to the point of why he was here again.
"Well, I know what your second core is, but I can only make an educated guess as to how it came to be in your wand."
Severus nodded; he knew that Ollivander had no official records or information on his wand, and that anything the wandmaker could share with him about it was mostly speculation, at best.
"Years ago as a boy, I remember my grandfather telling me these outrageous stories of the adventures of a man named Geraint. The man in the stories had spent some time journeying across the world, taking in the sights and sounds and customs of people from all cultures. One area he had particularly cherished was Africa; the whole continent is ripe with magical energies, and as a wandmaker, he had devoted a great length of time to studying the region."
Severus listened intently, though he was unsure of what this story had to do with his wand.
"He spent a deal of time in east Africa," Ollivander continued, "possibly bartering his goods in exchange for food and quarters as he traveled. At any rate, one village he came across was having a terrible time dealing with an unknown creature that had taken up the area as it's territory. Besides the death and destruction the beast itself brought to the village, it was attacking the few livestock that the villagers had to sustain themselves."
Wide eyed, Severus nodded.
"When all of the grown witches and wizards from several surrounding villages joined to attempt to track down and deal with the beast, Geraint had offered to help with the task. While the other villagers were initially untrusting of the outsider, it was eventually decided that he could join, as they soon realized they would need every wand they could muster."
"What did they find?" Severus asked. Even dragons only took a few skilled wizards to take down.
"The party eventually traced the sightings and track marks to discover a nundu."
Severus's jaw dropped open slightly. He'd seen photographs of one of the giant, spotted cats in an ancient library book his first year at Hogwarts. They were huge; he had read that it took over a hundred wizards to subdue the cat photographed in the book. "Were they able to kill it?"
Ollivander nodded. "Several people from each village lost their lives battling the beast, and it took the entire party of over a hundred and thirteen wizards to subdue it, but they did claim victory over the creature in the end."
Ollivander studied the ebony wand he held in his hands.
"Now, as I said it is still entirely speculation, but-" Ollivander lifted the black wand- "the day you found this in my shop, I figured that at least one of my grandfather's old stories had to be true."
"What does my wand have to do with the stories, sir?"
"Severus, the man my grandfather told me of, Geraint, is actually one of my paternal ancestors, and he was also a Wandmaker."
The young man nodded, eyes wide, as the old man returned his wand to him. "The second core in your wand, I believe, is a whisker from the nundu that my distant grandfather helped to slay."
"…Mister Snape, are you alright?"
Severus shook his head to clear his thoughts and met the worried-looking gaze of Ollivander.
"Yes, sorry sir," he replied quietly. His mind had wandered away from him, reeling with what he feared would be more implications of this newest facet of his wand's makeup.
"Sir," he continued slowly, "do you know of any other wands with a nundu core?" He was almost afraid to hear the answer the wandmaker would give him.
The old man shook his head. "Sadly, I have never heard of another. I do not know for certain how this affects your wand, one way or the other," he finished, hearing the unspoken question in the boy's query.
Severus nodded.
"However," Ollivander continued quietly, "knowing what I do about wand lore, I would say that a core from such a beast is likely not a good omen."
Severus's shoulders sagged a little as his worries were confirmed. "Can you explain why?"
"Throughout history, wandmakers have used cores from creatures that are our equals, theoretically. Dragons, phoenixes, unicorns, thestrels, even Veela- they are all beings of approximately equal magical power to a grown witch or wizard. In essence, wandmakers take the magic from these beasts, and by creating a wand, match a wizard's natural power, doubling his innate skill. The wand and the wizard are in perfect balance, neither is able to outperform the other."
Severus nodded to himself. This made sense- that's why it was always easier to perform magic with a wand, then without.
"..But to take the magic from a beast that so far outstrips even a hundred wizards, and create a wand using the core of such a beast.. could be highly dangerous."
Again, seemingly as one, they looked down at the black wand the young man held in his hands. Part of Severus's mind staggered with the thought that with any spell he cast, his wand could, what, overpower him? magically short him out? at any given moment, yet the rational side of him knew that this wand had faithfully served him for over five years, knew that this wand had chosen him. In some ways he felt like a snake charmer, safely handling the poisonous serpent which would kill anyone else in a second.
"Of course, as I said earlier, much of what I can tell you about your wand is purely speculation.." Ollivander offered by way of apology.
Severus nodded, still in somewhat of a daze as he struggled to process this newest information. "Of course, sir." He met the old man's gaze with hooded, dark eyes. "I had better be leaving, sir, or my mother will start to worry where I've gone," he lied. His mother would do no such thing, and he was relatively certain that Ollivander knew this, but he suddenly had to be free of this claustrophobic wand shop, free of the weight of responsibility this man was burdening him with..
The old wandmaker nodded, and they both got to their feet as he vanished the chairs he had conjured earlier.
"Just remember, Mister Snape," Ollivander told the young man as he paused, hand on the door handle, "the wand chooses the wizard. It's not always clear why."
After a moment, Severus nodded, then left the shop.
Author's Note: Ever wonder what a Nundu is, or looks like? Click here to find out (warning; here there be fanart): http:/ thecopperdragon2004 dot deviantart dot com/ gallery/#/d4l93bn (take out the spaces- there is also a link in my profile)