Author's Note: Ambient magic is magic that comes to you. Academic magic is the magic that is learned. (Got the idea from "The Circle of Magic" series.)

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Willow walked between Professor Snape and Harry Potter down the street. They had flooed to a place called Diagon Alley to get her a wand. Though more and more, the professor had been thinking it would be an unnecessary burden for her to use it full time as they did. Yet, he felt that she desperately needed a focal point for the magic, something better to channel the directionless power than her whole body. Plus, he hoped it would teach her control over herself.

He just wished that they had time to see Professor Flitwick, there was something more ambient than academic about her magic. Of all the Hogwarts' professors, only Filius had recognized his own ambient magic. Severus felt ill equipped to handle her if his gut was speaking the truth.

"Sir," Harry leaned over to tap him on the arm cautiously. "We're here."

Willow looked at the shop, curiously Harry and Snape had stopped in front of. Her nose twitched at the feel of the magic pulsing from the building. It left her filling vaguely high on the power and, almost instinctively, started drawing it in.

"Pull back from it, Miss Rosenberg. This is neither the time nor the place," Severus sharply told her, voice cutting into her thoughts. Gut feeling confirmed, he thought. "You will enter and meet the wand maker, Mr. Ollivander. He will help you appropriate your wand. Mr. Potter, you will come with me."

With a seemingly careless shrug did as he asked, then entered the building. Again, she felt the curious touch of the power reaching out to enfold her and reached out to it. It felt all tingling and made her feel slightly light headed. As before, Professor Snape's voice reached her. "Do not meddle with the magic. Turn it off and shut yourself down."

Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply and envisioned the strands of magic coming towards her as she'd been taught. Using some of her own reserves, she pushed it away and wove it back into the woodwork, clamping it into place. Then, she compressed her own wayward powers and was left feeling weak and breathless.

"Ah, an ambient mage has once more wandered into my shop. What can I do for you when there is no need for a wand?"

"Professor Snape insists upon it," she shrugged.

An odd twinkle entered his eyes. "Yes, he would know best. Well, what is your name?" He was perplexed about the redhead girl's identity, she faintly resembled Lily Evans Potter. Though, there was a bit of the Weasley about her, as well. May be he'd have to let Mr. Weasley know that he had a lost relative wandering about the Americas.

"Willow Rosenberg, sir." She shivered a bit, there was something creepy about this guy. Feeling it best, she kept her distance.

"Rosenberg, a strong Jewish name," he mused, staring at her thoughtfully. There was something about her that bothered him. Not in a bad way but it was something that troubled him. It wasn't the ambient magic in her, he'd seen his fair share of those over the years. No, it was something else. But what? "Unusual to have magical abilities, but not unknown. What is your bloodline?"

"How should I know?"

"Are you not interested in where your magic comes from?"

She shrugged, "as long as it works when I need it to, no."

"Practical, sad really. Maybe you should try this willow wand, its core is a sphinx hair." He passed her the wand and waited, "give it a wave."

"Why? It's not going to respond. I don't feel a kinship with it," she passed it back.

"Have you ever handled a wand?"

"Miss Granger's, I picked it up to ask what it was. And Draco Malfoy's, they both rejected me."

He pulled out a few more boxes and placed them on the table top, neatly covering it. "That is because, as you surmised before, they don't have a resonance with you. All wands must be connected to the very power source of a wizard. It is very difficult for a wand to work with a wizard it has not chosen. Try this, yew with a swan feather."

"Nothing." This was the same response he got for the oak with a kneazles' hair, the maple with the unicorn tail core, and the hornbeam with dragon's tears. He handed her a few more, a holly with a few unicorn tears, the mahogany with the veela's hair, a rosewood with a dragon heart string, and another yew, this one with a mistletoe as its core. After a while, there were only a few more wands left to chose from.

She looked skeptically at the graying wand, "it looks dead."

"Well, that one was created using parts of a dementor and a banshee. I haven't got any idea how it got into this pile. In fact, I can't understand why its still here. I could've sworn I destroyed the thing when the dementors where searching for the escaped Sirius Black. Oh, well. The wand does its own deciding. Would you like to give it a wave?" he asked, passing it over.

Her hand twitched, aching to feel it against her own feelings of revulsion. She didn't know what a dementor was, but she surely knew what a banshee was and what they did. No way did she want it, even if she did live on the Hellmouth. "Why bother? I can feel it calling to me," she sighed. "How much for it?"

"Already taken care of," he replied, waving the wands back into their place. "Take care of the wand and it will take care of you."

"I'll be sure to do that," she grimaced, unhappy but resigned. The wand's power gripped her tightly, feeling its way into her body and aligning itself to her. Willow turned and left the shop, her stomach tied in queasy knots.

"Finally, I was beginning to think...what is that?" Professor Snape asked, glancing at the gray wand, stunned by its rather decaying look.

"My wand."

"It looks dead," Severus flatly declared.

"Its made up of dementor and banshee parts," she told him.

The dark eyes studied her, trying to decide if that was a joke. There was no laughter in her eyes and he wasn't even sure she could make such a thing up. "I suppose it is appropriate considering that you live on the Hellmouth."

"Yeah. The whole dead population is sure to get a kick out of its presence," she sardonically said.

But he had already begun to process the idea. "It makes perfect sense. They would never be able to feel something so innately evil because they are that way themselves. Any other wand would alert them to its presence. Evil as it may have been in life, it is now the perfect protector for you."

"Glad you think so, Professor."

"I had wondered about my own," he mused. "Now, it's all so clear. I can't believe I missed its implications. What a dunderhead I've been!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, exchanging confused looks with Willow.

"My wand is made out of the bones of a Master Vampire and the blood of a basilisk." He started to walk briskly off, "let's go."

They followed, practically running to keep up with his longer stride. In between gasps, she found the energy to ask, "What's he talking about, Harry?"

"He is, or was, a spy. Such a wand would certainly protect him from the Dark Lord's touch, even more than his skills as an occlemens, I suppose," Harry explained between pants.

"Severus, my dear friend, where are you off to in such a hurry. I was hoping to visit you but you've spared me the necessity of coming to such a barbarian country," a silky voice purred from the shadows in front of the professor.

Go back and head towards Davenport House. Tell the landlady, in parseltongue, that I've sent you for the Merlin Codex. Move, you stupid children. The voice resounded in both their minds and they stopped and turned around.

"Why are we running?" Willow asked after they'd been running in various directions for a while.

Harry stopped, leaning against the wall, panting from his exertions. "I have no idea."

"Then, where are we going?"

"If I knew, we would probably be there by now. Can't you just do some locator spell with your own magic?"

"Don't be stupid, Potter, I'd have to be familiar with the area before I can do anything like what you're suggesting," she crossly said, glancing around them nervously. "Doesn't anything look familiar to you?"

He glanced around, paling rapidly. "Oh, Merlyn." Over to their right, just a hair's breath from them, was a spot he remembered, all to well. One he hated for the fear and confusion it caused him and the memories it brought up.

"What now?"

"Knockturn Alley," he whispered.

"Excuse me?"

"We're near Knockturn Alley. We've got to get away," he started off.

"Hold!" she commanded, freezing him in place. "What are you talking about?"

"We don't have time for this. That's Knockturn Alley. A notorious alley where dark wizards and witches do business." Harry explained quickly, "we can't get caught near here."

"Would there be anyone in there who could give us directions?" she coolly asked, staring at him.

"Willow, don't be stupid! Evil wizards are in there, the only thing they'll want from you is your soul."

Her eyes narrowed, "you're really afraid of that place, aren't you?"

"Yes!"

"Very well, you stay here. I'll be right back," she left him standing in the middle of the road, petrified.

"Rosenberg! You can't do this alone!" he called after her.

She suddenly appeared beside him, "I'll have you know that I've been taking very good care of myself for years. A little alley like that is nothing compared to my home. Are you coming?"

He sighed, "you're not joking."

"Afraid not."

"Then let's go. Professor Snape is going to kill me," he muttered, following her.

She smiled grimly at him, "maim you, may be. But he won't kill you."

"You don't know the professor," he laughed bleakly. "He's been trying to get rid of me for years."

"Excuse me?" She flung back the man who'd been attempting to do something to her. "But everything on this person is owned by me. Back off!" Her voice was calm, reasonable but the effect of it along with the magic she'd casually tossed around, cleared the path for them. The gathered group of riffraff wanted to be as far from the strange redhead and her oddly shaped companion as possible.

"And, of course, no one is going to know that I was here," he muttered darkly.

"Of course they won't. How will they know who you are when they can't really see you?" she asked, moving through the streets and towards one of the shops.

Harry almost questioned her but took another look at her. Willow seemed to have grown a few inches and filled out. Her robe was no longer green but a dark blood red color. The red hair was caught up in a semi-tight bun, exposing the long line of her swanlike neck. In her hand, her wand had extended to become a staff. Then he felt the changes in himself, he seemed to be walking with a slouch.

Risking a glance, he nearly stopped when he saw his appearance in the dirty shop window. His back was curved slightly to one side, putting an emphasis on his left side. The familiar messy black hair had become a light brownish-orange color. And, startling of all, his glasses had melted into his face-making him think of Trelawney and her bugged out eyes.

Her hand stopped the door before the owner could close it. "I'll be out of your hair as soon as you tell me something."

"I don't know anything," he mumbled.

Green eyes flashed, "how valuable would you say your things are?"

"Why?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well, if they were to get damaged, would you mind?" Her grin was twisted.

The man stepped back, allowing Willow and Harry to enter. He stared at the humpbacked man with disdain, "whose that?"

"Is it any of your business?" she answered his question with a question. "Now, before my associate makes free with the merchandise, do you know where Davenport House is?" She was fingering one of the globes idly, glancing at him beneath her lashes.

"No one goes to that dark place," he stuttered.

"That wasn't what I asked," she faced Harry, mouth opened when he interrupted.

"Lady, please!" he was sweating. "The only ones that know the location are those that have connections there."

Her eyes narrowed and she studied him, intently. When a familiar stench arose from him, she sighed. "Very well, would you be so kind as to tell us where we might find such a person?"

Trembling, the man dropped to his knees. "No, lady. But have mercy on me. I don't know anything of worth."

"Shini?" she asked Harry.

He grunted, remembering his time as Goyle-far more clearly than he liked but if it helped… "A little persuasion, Lady?"

Twinkling eyes met his for a moment, but she read the truth in them. Though he kinda enjoyed being seen as a heavy, it was not something he wanted to go all the way with. Spoilsport, she thought. Still, it was his right to refuse. And while she could certainly do some damage on her own, he would get caught up in any mess she made.

"The Dragon's Head Inn, down the corner and to the left. Can't miss it, its in a small hole. Knock twice, tell them the Asp sent you," he grasped her hand.

Brushing off her hands, she nodded her head. "Thank you, Mr. Asphodel. We shall most likely meet again if I do not find what I'm looking for." They left and she smirked, tossing up the staff and catching it quickly, "never thought watching Cordy would come in handy one day."

Harry was silent, "why Shini?"

"It's short for Shinigami, the Japanese god of death. At least, that is if the sources I read are correct." She paused to think, "I don't think Professor Snape would've sent us anywhere that we'd have to seek help from this kind of crowd. That would defeat the purpose of keeping us safe. No, I think the secret is in your mind."

"My mind? Why not yours?"

"Because I don't speak parseltongue," she pointed out reasonably. "I don't even know what it is."

Harry sighed, "I can speak to snakes."

"That's no good, I get nothing from that. Think, Shini, try to focus on what he said specifically to you," she urged.

"You heard what he said," he gnawed his lip. "Didn't you?"

"I heard the part about the house and the parseltongue, then we fled."

Harry closed his eyes and concentrated, "he said something about the Merlin Codex and getting it."

"Say it in parseltongue," she urged when they stood outside The Dragon's Head Inn.

He looked at her doubtfully but after Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was willing to give anything a try, no matter how foolish. "Merlin's Codex."

Nothing happened.

"What did you say?"

"What he told me to say," he snapped.

"Are you sure? May be you have to get it word perfect," she pressed.

Rolling his eyes, he tried again. If only to prove her wrong. "The Merlin Codex."

For a moment, it was quiet and still, not even a breeze blew down the alley. He turned towards her, a triumphant grin on his face before there was a painful tug on his whole body. Willow's face reflected the same surprise and wonder. The two felt themselves pulled through a tunnel of some kind, twisting in several directions before they landed in a heap in a warmed room.

A strange creature with large ears and huge eyes stared down at them. If she'd had the energy to do so, she would have screamed very loudly. It was dressed in what looked like a small, white tea towel. Its voice, when it spoke, was not painfully loud but there was still a squeaky sound to it that rang in their heads rather painfully. "My name is Lisander, the guardian of this place. I am here to welcome you to Davenport House, Master Potter. Mistress Rosenberg. If you will follow me, I will show you to your quarters."

Willow stared at the creature, "what?" Her nearly coherent reply was quite a feat of strength considering she felt like the world was still being ripped apart. Not waiting for a reply, she closed her eyes to wait until the world righted itself once more.

Harry, on the other hand, rolled over and stood up. "Not quite as subtle as a portkey but just as surprising. Lisander, how did you know to expect us when we didn't know we'd be coming ourselves?"

"Master Flitwick told me to expect you. He is coming to see Mistress Rosenberg tonight and thought that you would like to rest before he arrived," Lisander answered, poking the girl on the floor with his foot. "Is she okay?"

Harry sighed, heaving her to her feet over her vociferous complaints about the rocking world and how it was unfair to take advantage of her like that. "She's not used to wizarding travel."

"And you are late."

"Professor Snape!" Harry jumped, jostling Willow who stared at him grumpily. He ignored her, staring at his professor with a guilty expression on his face. "We didn't know."

"I had thought that one of you would have had enough sense to do as I told you to and not wasted your time exploring the street of Diagon Alley. Where were you?" his nose twitched. "You came here by way of Knockturn Alley?!?"

Willow glared, "well, its not like you gave us clear instructions."

"I told you to go around the corner and head for Davenport, using the parseltongue password," he was livid.

"You most certainly did not," she rounded on him. In perfect mimicry, she repeated his words.

Black eyes blazed, "he knows."

"Who knows?"

"The Dark Lord-Voldemort. He knows that we are here and was trying to trap you, Potter. The reasons for your capture, I well know. But I can't think as to why he'd want you, Miss. Rosenberg."

"May be it was because we were together," Harry tried.

Severus mused, shaking his head. "No. The Dark Lord never does anything without a reason. I really must see the Headmaster about this. How late did the professor say he was going to be?"

"An hour, no later," Lisander said, "I was told to prepare rooms and take you to them as soon as you came."

"All right. But first, who must I obliviate?"

"No one."

"Excuse me, Miss Rosenberg?"

"I disguised us. Like this," a series of images flashed between the foursome. "I may not know the area, but I'm not stupid."

He closed his eyes, "we need to have a talk soon about using your magic so freely. It is exhausting to both the source and the user."

"Yes, sir. But we really had no choice," Willow said, "and Harry tried to talk me out of it."

"Did he?"

Harry was silent, so Willow nodded emphatically.

"It seems you are capable of learning common sense after all, Mr. Potter."

End, part 4.

Author's Note: Anyone think the wands are too creepy? I'll change them if the idea is just too icky.