Harry sat alone in the library. His lesson for the day was over, this one had been short, discussing wand lore broadly but his wand in particular.
His wand's phoenix core was the most attuned to powerful magicks of cores but they also had a mind of their own, Atum had said. They could cast on their own at times, protecting their masters.
Harry had asked why Master was such a common term.
Atum had smiled as he stood. "Because to master magic is to master oneself. Today's lesson is done, little master, save for you thinking on that." He ruffled Harry's hair then left the room.
A soft chime filled the house. Lunch.
He found his favorite meal from Australia—a meat pie in mashed peas dashed with sriracha—awaiting him along with a bottle of fizzy butterbeer.
He ate alone. Sirius was at the Ministry working on setting up the corporate structure they needed with the Headmaster and others, the fireteam was running errands for his grandfather who was reading in the library, while Remus was visiting his father. Wth the school year over, Charlie and Bill had returned to work.
A different chime filled the house as Harry was down to his last few bites. The front door chime. Abandoning the remnants, he walked to the front door to find Sinister wringing her hands. "It's a muggle!"
He smiled and told her to make sure all magical items weren't visible then looked at the mirror that showed what was outside the front door. Eric. Harry touched the mirror to revert it then opened the door. "Hi!"
"Yo son! What happened to you?"
"Come in. My godfather finally proved he didn't do the crime he was accused of and was able to take me in. He decided to have me home schooled before I start at the independent school he and my parents went to."
"Cool place," he said, looking around. "I only have a few minutes. I gotta get ready to move. I saw you earlier but you had headphones on. Anyway, here, my comics and new address." He shoved a box of comics into Harry's hands. "If you want to be pen pals, I mean?"
"Sure. Buy why're you giving me all your comics?"
"Moving to Saudi Arabia for dad's new position and he thinks I might not be allowed to bring a lot of them into the country. My trades and the rest are outside, one sec." He opened the front door and Harry blinked as he saw two more boxes of single issues and five boxes of trade paperbacks. "I figured you'd take the best care of them. The stuff you don't like, pass on to others that will, okay?"
Harry nodded as he helped him move them in then they awkwardly shook hands. Eric taught him how to do it properly, ending the seven part 'shake' with a fist bump. "Then you blow it up," he said, pulling his fist back and opening it like a firework. Harry did the same then they redid the whole shake.
"I'll write first," Eric said. "Just in case that address gets changed. The last three times we moved the place we were supposed to have got swapped. Bye Harry."
"Bye Eric."
Remus stepped out of his office and saw the boxes and Harry's bemused expression a minute later. "Hey. What's all this?"
"Eric, the American kid from school?" Remus nodded, Harry had mentioned him a few times. "He dropped off all his comics and his new address. They're going to Saudi Arabia. His dad works in oil."
"Ah, well let's send these up to your room. Sirius returned yet?"
Harry shook his head. "He said he'd be late."
"Did you have lunch?" Remus asked as he twirled his wand.
He nodded this time as the boxes grew butterfly wings and flew off.
"I got that book you wanted while at dad's. On the pack structure of werewolves," he said, handing it over to Harry.
"Small," he said, looking at what he thought was more a pamphlet.
"Self-published by a squib werewolf. The ministry banned it being published."
Harry narrowed his eyes and added 'publish banned books' to his list of ideas. "Thank you."
Remus ruffled his hair. "Go outside and play or something."
Before he could decide what to do, their floo activated and Wallace's face showed through. "Hell—oh, there you are. Harry, Remus." They nodded hello. "I just got tasked to do the first tour through Diagon Alley for muggleborns this summer on August 2. Thought you might wanna come along or at least Sirius could show up with the prototypes."
"I wanna go," Harry said.
"And Sirius will too," Remus added.
A hat flew through the flames and landed on the floor. "Happy early birthday, Harry. Later."
Harry picked it up, brushing off the soot. "Cool." It was an all black arsenal hat with a silvery-black metallic thread embroidered logo. He took it up to his room and found his grandfather floating down the hall.
"Gramps."
"Ah, Harry. What's that?"
"A hat from Wizard Wallace. He's leading muggleborns through Diagon Alley in August and invited me and Sirius to show the wands. Think there'll be enough done in time?"
"There's usually only a dozen or so and we finished two dozen of the seven year prototypes so we're good."
Harry put the hat on top of the bust of the fourth Wielder—there were busts of the third through ninth in his library with busts of his grandfather and father [though he never became one so it was being done with eyes closed and head bowed(a compromise on Harry's part once he saw how cool it looked)] commissioned by the best dwarven stonemason—then looked around. He decided to shelve the trades for now.
Harry shook the hands of the wizards and witch, all representatives from the International Confederation of Magicals*, then sat down next to Sirius at the table.
Every one at the table picked up the parchments in front of them and all the guests shuddered at once from the paper cuts caused by the parchment. The potion on the paper immediately healed and obliviated the sixty-fourth of a second it took to cut them and introduce the Darklings hidden within the parchment.
Albus came in, apologizing about his lateness.
"Now, shall we begin?" he asked.
"Our proposal is to begin a multinational intelligence organization, utilizing technomagery enhanced optics," Sirius said.
Sirius continued speaking as Remus showed various ways of utilizing space based optics and scrying to watch for magic events visible to muggles.
Two hours later, the International Magical Security Council, in charge of overseeing the International Statute of Secrecy signed off on the creation of an intelligence organization straddling both Magical and Mundane.
"You're going to be late, Harry," Albus said after they had left.
Harry looked at his pocket-watch and his eyes went wide.
"Bye!"
As he ran off, the Keeper appeared. "Only one Darkling was required to influence them. They all agreed it is a necessary element but Monsieur Moire is running a muggle slaving and illegal potions components ring. He believes we assured him our Intelligence network won't be looking into those things. Should he commit suicide?"
"I would prefer he dismantles the organization by turning himself in," Albus said.
The Keeper pouted and Sirius laughed.
"One almost wonders if that Darkling is still in me."
"Not possible," the Keeper replied. "Even if it hadn't been dismissed in forty-two, when the master retreated to the redoubt all Darklings were recalled or dissipated."
~•~
Harry appeared in the room they'd hired in The Leaky Cauldron, then stepped out. The muggleborns were being escorted through the alley in less than an hour.
Four Darklings watched the street, using periscopes that did not transmit ultraviolet light, a result of Harry experimenting with the latest advances in muggle sunglasses. Sirius had joked about making a suit out of Oakley sunglasses but Remus had pointed out that the moon was a reflection of the sun and the moon somehow was transformative to light. That had led to a new experiment line for Harry and one more important than any other idea. Darklings able to walk in the daylight meant that he would be nearly unstoppable.
He Left the room and pulled his hood up, nodding to Tom's sister as she pushed a cart of empty plates.
In the inn portion, Harry accepted a chocobeer from Tom when the man suggested trying his new drink.
Five minutes later, Harry was pushing coins across for a second bottle. It was like the chocolate phosphate he had had during a day trip to Brisbane and lunch at a muggle vintage style ice cream shoppe.
Muggleborn children began to arrive with their parents and Harry watched them be gathered up by a ministry functionary until there was seven children. Eight more more, he knew until all the students were there.
A half hour more passed and he saw Wallace arrive then wave at Harry.
"Shouldn't you join the others?" Tom asked walking by.
"Half-blood."
"Ah, sorry, the muggle clothes threw me. Another drink? Something to eat?"
Harry shook his head and left a few knuts to cover his third drink.
All the children had arrived and Harry drifted over.
"All right everyone, let's do a quick check of names one last time then we'll head out."
"Harry?" a woman's voice said and he turned to see Miss Ellis-Bextor. "It is you! You're magical too?"
He nodded and was about to say hello when the woman's daughter said "present!" after Wallace said, "Ellis-Bextor, Sophie."
He gestured her down and whispered "for today my name is Jameson."
She wrinkled her brow, trying to remember his last name, but nodded.
"That word you were looking for? It's a Greek word. It means—"
"Lightning?"
"Yes! You found it on your own?"
The roll call was soon over and Wallace led them to the wall and showed them how to enter the Alley.
Wallace led them to the bank first.
"Most purebloods treat goblins like they're dirt. We've been at war with them so many times over the centuries that they see wizards as the enemy and we see them as greedy little buggers. Being polite or being rude, they'll treat you just the same. So be polite," he said. "Someday there'll be another treaty, right Viceclaw?"
"Yes, Wallace," said the large goblin on the right side of the door. "And I'll be very polite as I stomp on you then."
Wallace laughed. "The larger goblins are the warrior caste. The banker caste are lighter skinned and smaller. There's another few castes they don't tell us about. Inside, don't draw a wand, don't pull weapons. The Bank is their territory, not ours. It's the same in a muggle bank, basically. You're here to do business, be business-like."
The goblins nodded then opened the doors. "Welcome, Little Magicals," Viceclaw said.
Inside, temporary tables had been setup to help the muggleborns who were going to setup accounts while the rest changed money. Harry did as well, turning his fifty galleons—Sirius had lost big in poker night—into pounds.
"This is the only week of the year that there is this low of a fee for changing money," he told them. "The rest of the year it's two percent."
Back outside the bank, a man with a bit of an afro asked, "So they're in charge of your economy?"
"Essentially. The last war was a stalemate. If we continued, we would have been exposed to the muggles. The whole of Eurasian magical society was forced to capitulate to their demands to control the economy by the International Confederation, an analogue to the United Nations.
"Alright, first along the street are books. Potions supplies, pets and supplies—owls are how we send mail, I know, I know but tradition.
"Robes, miscellaneous supplies, stationery, and my favorite shop, The Silver Elephant. It's a junk shop.
"Now, let's break the group up into five groups of three. Wands take a fair bit of time so put these on your wrists," he said, handing out ribbons then watched the children tie them around their wrists. "Alright, you all have your—"
A girl whose wild hair was escaping her plaits raised her hand. "You missed a ribbon for him, sir."
"Ah, he's just tagging along out of boredom. Jameson has his wand already."
"Oooh," some of the children said and looked at Harry expectantly.
Harry blinked then realized what they were waiting for and removed his wand.
"Ah, as you can see, Jameson's wand has a grip and is very sparkly. It's been treated with a diamond coating and the grip just gives it a better surface to hold on to," Wallace prevaricated. "If you decide to diamond coat your wand it will increase the cost significantly and Mr. Ollivander will have to owl it to you."
"What does the diamond coating do?" one of the girls asked.
"Makes your wand essentially unbreakable," he replied. "While snapping a wand is possible, it takes some force. One couldn't just do it by hand. The Ministry uses a device like a pipe bender for those who have seen one. A wand coated like that actually defeated the device used."
"Why do it if it's so hard to break a wand?"
"Some people decide that it's better to have something and not need it then need it and not have it," Wallace replied. "Plus, as a bonus, you needn't ever polish your wand again." Some of the adults sniggered at that while the children looked at their parents, confused. Double entendres could trump cultural divides rather easily.
"Now that I have you grouped up—wait, everyone has your supplies list?"
The adults mostly held them up but some children held up theirs.
"Excellent. Okay, red, let's go get wands. Blue, books. Green, robes. Orange, supplies. Purple, pets—which you don't have to buy but they do give a good speech about the various choices. Then once a wand group is done your ribbons will shimmer to get your attention and tell you where to go next. This way no big pile ups of everyone trying to buy books and so on at once."
The adults all nodded as Wallace handed out maps of the alley then one adult exclaimed, "It's interactive‽"
"Yes, it shows the ribbons in the map and where the ribbon color should be along with a path. If you need anything, tap my face on the map, the handsome visage it is, and I'll come as quickly as possible."
The first wand group was Mrs. Elliot-Bextor and Sophie; the afro-haired man, his wife, and their daughter, the girl with the wild hair; and a pale blonde girl and her father who was trying not to keep peeking at Mrs. Elliot-Bextor.
In the store, Mr. Ollivander greeted them then turned to Harry. "Are you just observing?"
"Yes."
He nodded. "Tell your grandfather I have a few ideas I'd like to hash out with him face-to-face."
"Yes, sir."
He turned to the children and nodded to the wild haired girl who introduced herself as Hermione Granger.
"Why are they calling you Jameson?" Mrs. Elliot-Bextor asked softly as she sat down next to Harry.
"Because he is very famous," Wallace said just as softly, sitting down next to her, watching as Ollivander gathered wands and the two other girls stood near Hermione, watching intently.
Soon the other parents gravitated towards the seats and joined them.
~•~
The girl with the wild hair smiled hopefully at the woman working behind the counter. "Are there any other books you suggest for muggleborns?" she asked hopefully.
She didn't notice her father mouth 'She loves to read!'
"In fact, I have a list of very good books for those interested in knowing a little bit about just about everything," she replied as she handed over a list of books.
"They're sorted by price," she told the girl's parents as the girl disappeared down an aisle, her plaits bouncing. "From cheapest to most expensive."
The Grangers paid for the necessary school books—the store kept stacks of all the books necessary, both used and new, for first year muggleborns—then wandered off to look around as well.
They eventually found Hermione in a more age appropriate section than they ever assumed they would find her in. She was looking at a book called The Further Adventures of Harry Potter: Harry v The Gorgon's Gorgonzola.
"None of these seem even remotely possible," Hermione muttered.
Her father looked at one. "They're likely like your Encyclopedia Brown stories, Fuzzy. Not impossible but highly improbable."
Hermione glared at him for calling her Fuzzy in public but nodded eventually and put the books back save the first book in the series. It joined her stack of books.
~•~
With all supplies bought, the group was standing outside Florean Fortescue's shop.
"And now for the final announcements and one last presentation after that then ice cream!" The children cheered.
"These are your tickets for the train. We've discussed how to get on it but within the ticket is another set of directions. Most of you elected to get your wands diamond coated, yes?"
"We all did," one boy corrected.
"Ah, well, your wands: you are not to practice magic outside of school until you are of age. I know this seems incredibly unfair but if something goes wrong there isn't another magical person to fix your mistake. A great example. I mispronounced an incantation this morning due to my tiredness and set my coffee mug on fire instead of heating up my coffee from last night. My wife was livid! My kids thought it was hilarious." So did the ones standing before him.
Wallace went through other prohibitions and announcements then handed out small pamphlets to the parents before leading the kids into the shop. They all stared at the hundreds of flavors available.
"Hello everyone, I'm Sirius Black and I'm hopefully only going to take up a few minutes of your time."
A board shimmered into view, showing a large white wand with a pyramid shaped diamond embedded in one end and an orange oval gem on the side. A dozen of the wands were mounted on a display under the large display.
"Now, as Mr. Wallace told you, you can't use your wands outside of school. But with all your textbooks, you can, of course, grab a twig and practice the shapes but how do you know you've done it perfectly? You can't. But with a P-WAND—A Preparatory Wave And kNow Device—you can practice and know for a fact that your form and incantations are correct. Would anyone care to try one out?"
Hermione's hand was the first up.
"Have you read any of the spells?" Sirius asked as he handed her one of the P-WANDs.
She nodded. "I just read about the repair spell."
"Excellent, it has a wand movement and an incantation.
"Now, when you get a spell incantation and the movement wrong with this device, the crystal flashes red. Incantation only wrong, then it turns orange. Wand movement wrong but incantation right? Yellow. Both correct, green. And if you've gotten it wrong ten times, it says the incantation aloud and moves your hand in the correct movement. You can also hold the orange gem to get a random spell to practice by saying what year spell it is then letting go.
"Now what's your name?"
"Hermione Granger."
"Alright, Miss Granger, go ahead."
"Reparo," she said, doing the backwards C for the spell.
It flashed red.
Hermione looked incredibly disappointed until he said, "the repair spell needs you to start at the ten o'clock position and end at the six o'clock. The correct pronunciation is 'reh-PAH-roh,' make sure you put the emphasis on that."
She tried again and the wand did a green light.
"Anyone else want to try?"
Soon every child was holding a P-WAND, including Harry, and being run through a half a dozen first year spells by Sirius.
A half hour later, every student had bought a P-WAND, even the two parental holdouts changing their mind when Sirius revealed that the prototype versions had all seven year's magical spells and numerous Mastery spells, a large book with all the spells on the P-WAND, a spell upgrade program, a lifetime replacement on it with a phone number to call for help along with discount access to a twice a week workshop in the summers. And was only five gallons, two less than if they bought one for each year regularly.
After most had left, Harry was waiting on Sirius when he asked, "So who was the hottie with the cute daughter?"
He ignored the hot and cute part. Sirius was always commenting in the attractiveness of women, gramps had said it was due to being a massive hound. "She's the librarian at the library near our place? She found a word I was trying to figure out before I became the Wielder. It was the purifying lightning spell from my dreams I have. It was great-great-grandfather's favorite spell to use on his enemies. Gramps said I should start trying it fifth year or so. He liked it too but was trying to create the opposite of demon fire?"
"Fiendfyre," he corrected.
Sirius paid Florean for the use of the store—10 sickles for every wand sold and a galleon—then he summoned Sinister and had her pack off all the stuff. "Well then, what do you want to do?"
"Head home. Tired."
Sirius nodded at Florean then they stepped outside. As soon as Sirius took ahold of Harry's hand, he apparated them to the woods outside the house. Harry let go and shadowstepped to his room and was pulling off his hoodie when he heard a woman start humming The Entertainer.
He whipped his hoodie off and had his wand in hand, blades extended then saw it was Tonks sitting on his 'new' chair, a flawless reproduction of the First's father's throne which was in the redoubt. The Darklings had surprised him with it on his birthday and Remus had charmed it.
"Why've you got an incredibly awesome throne?" She hadn't been able to attend the small party.
"Reproduction of an ancestor's. What are you doing in here?"
"I was writing you a note," she said, holding up a notepad. "When did you learn to apparate silently‽ And how're you not getting a fine for it?"
"Not apparition, family magic. And no, I can't teach it to you. Only the firstborn can do it."
She pouted as she tossed aside the parchment and standing. "Did you listen to the Metallica tapes?"
"Yeah. I liked The Dwarves more but their stuff was good too."
"Excellent, we're going to a concert on the seventeenth. As a late birthday gift."
She hugged him then let go and headed out.
He undressed then put on a pair of sweats and closed his bedroom's blackout curtains.
He slipped his new Runrig tape into the boombox then sat on his bed, holding his seven backup wands. A Darkling appeared, holding the dart board from the training room in the basement.
"C'mon Master, you can do it!"
Harry flipped the wand so he was holding it by the sharpened side then threw it at the Darkling's head. The Darkling got the board up but the rubber side hit and it bounced away. "Right for my eye, Master!"
"It didn't stick," Harry complained.
This time he tried by starting with the eraser side in his hand for the throw.
Same result but this time it bounced off the Darkling's ear. "Better, Master!"
For the next hour, he kept trying, hitting the Darkling a couple times, once hard enough with the point facing the correct way he had to summon a new one.
"You could always enchant them for throwing," his grandfather said, floating into the room.
"I know. But if I can throw anything without having it enchanted to be thrown, It'll be better."
"Good lad. What are you listening to, though‽"
"They're a Scottish punk band."
"Really? Well then carry on." His grandfather very much wanted him to explore his Danish, Scottish, and Welsh ancestry. His mother's Irish ancestry was considered important but his grandfather had admitted he personally felt it less important but Harry shouldn't. When Sirius had joked that shagging sheep wasn't cultural his grandfather's ghost had actually knocked Sirius's tea into lap.
*one of the changes i'm making is renaming anything that's patronymically named to a gender neutral name.
