AN: So… This is an update. (I love stating the obvious). I am personally not very fond of this chapter except the last part, but that's mine opinion. Hope it isn't too boring with all the pseudo-history drivel. I can get a bit carried away sometimes.

Immortal Sailor Cosmos, great thanks for such a detailed review! Yes, Draco is an arrogant prick, isn't he? And I agree, he needs to learn manners and be nicer to the candidates. And quidditch muscles have disappeared during his intense magical studies. Muscles tend to do that over time if not used. Mirror and Flhoyer (don't know about you but I got used to the spelling after the first ten times laugh) were two mutually exclusive things at that point in time. But he'll improve. And Remus wasn't in the best condition to advise anything then. Very good question about the Order and Grimmauld, I'll think on it. I already have a vague idea. Hehe, and I already decided where to sort him (not telling!) but your analysis is pretty much accurate. So it's one of the two.

Chapter 9

Silence.

Draco dumbly stared at the place where not more than a minute ago resided his prey. First of all, he was highly affronted with the casual dismissal and the vanishing act. Secondly, he didn't know what to make out of the new candidate.

When he saw the dust monster he was immediately horrified but masterfully concealed it. Well, one thing was for sure, Flhoyer had the most beautiful eyes. Almond-shaped and bright emerald-green in colour. He was around 5'11 feet, which was a rather respectable height and didn't possess any obvious disfigurements.

The other thing he was confused about was the stranger's family name. Never-ever had he heard about the Flhoyers, and the Malfoy family prided itself in the knowledge of all the Lordships, even the small insignificant ones. Perhaps, Ryan was a Muggle-born aristocrat?

He needed to do a thorough investigation. So far, he was intrigued and leaned towards picking out the new candidate. But he didn't yet have enough information to make that decision. At least, Draco was sure he would see the guy in the next school year, if not before.

It was late evening of the next day, when Remus finally woke up. His body was well rested but starving. He didn't even need his werewolf senses to pick up the delicious aroma coming from downstairs. Quickly taking a shower and putting on sweat-pants with some ancient but comfy t-shirt, he arrived to the kitchen.

Harry… No, Flhoyer was sitting at the kitchen table surrounding by the stacks of dated Legawiz Issues and several history books taken, as he identified, from his personal library. The young man apparently didn't have any compunction about making himself at home. Not that Remus minded - it was a step up from the shy and insecure little boy.

"Good evening, Flhoyer."

"Moony!" his cub smiled happily. Now that he cleaned himself up, it was easier to notice the changes in ex-Harry Potter. He stood taller, looked healthier, missed the scar, and his green eyes no longer hid behind the atrocious glasses. His hair had grown to his mid-waist and was currently gathered in a pony-tail. The facial structure became more angular and sharp, a perfect combination of the best features of his parents. All-in-all, his honorary godson looked presentable and mature. It would be hard to recognize him if one didn't know where to look.

"Come, take a sit. Dinner first, then we have much to discuss."

Remus obediently followed Flhoyer's suggestion and practically inhaled the delicious grilled chicken with equally good tasting dressing. Remus was too out of it to notice what yesterday's food tasted like, but now that he thought about it, it was awesome. The werewolf was actually surprised – neither James, nor Lily had any cooking talent.

"That's very good, Har.." Remus stopped mid-speech, remembering the new name of his godson.

"Ryan."

"Ryan, then," well, at least it sounded nice. "Where did you learn to cook like that?"

The young wizard merely shrugged. "Guess, the Dursleys were good for something in the end."

Remus raised an eyebrow, but Ryan decided not to expand his explanation.

"So… How did that come about? Your change of a name and personality?" asked Moony in a casual voice while lounging contently in an armchair in front of a decorative fireplace.

"I was apprenticed."

"I'm afraid I don't understand what that has got to do with a change, though that is also an interesting bit of information."

"Very well. I'll start from the beginning. Several thousands years ago…" The werewolf snorted. The mage glared at Remus and the latter adopted an avidly interested face. Satisfied, Ryan continued. "As I said, several thousand years ago there were no magical schools, so it was upon the already educated wizards to take on at least one gifted to teach. There existed the Mage Council that assigned pupils to magicals based on the similarities in their gifts. The system was not prefect, but worked well enough. Knowledge was accumulating and expanding. The magical population was growing and remained relatively unprejudiced compared to nowadays mentality."

Ryan sighed and looked at Moony, who was now listening to him attentively without pretense. Well, of course, his godfather wasn't a history geek for nothing.

"However, as always, there were people who were quite possessive of the knowledge they gained and didn't want to share it, but usually the Council was strong enough to force them to take on an Apprentice. That is, until the dissidents infiltrated the Council itself and sent the whole system into chaos. Some magicals continued with the old practice, but many limited the knowledge only to their descendants and in the end about half of the magical population was left uneducated. The Wizarding World began the gradual withdrawal from the normal one, losing with it the analytical and logical view on things. Many Muggleborn wizards and witches as well as others with magical gifts, for one doesn't have to be a wizard to be magical, were left pending for themselves. Sometimes a gift was too strong and got out of control. It frightened Muggles and started a downward spiral in Magical-Muggle relationships, for from fear stemmed hatred and violence.

A magical scholar who lived at the time of the Fall of the Mages tried to save what he could and created the Knowledge Chambers where he left a part of himself to teach magicals with rare gifts."

Flhoyer stopped and looked lost in his thoughts.

"And…?" Remus urged his godson to continue.

"And this summer I stumbled across the Chambers or more like was lured into them, then forcefully apprenticed with a compulsory but thankfully temporary loss of memory, and as tradition held in the ancient times was given a new name. My Calling if you are interested is Dreamer and Summoner Flhoyer. I was today at Gringotts and took on myself the mantle of Flhoyer Lordship, so I am now also Lord Ryan Lilland Flhoyer."

"There is no Flhoyer Lordship," said Moony with conviction. Seeing the sly smile forming on Ryan's face, his confidence withered away.

"There is one now."

"Oh no… don't tell me…"

"Yes, yes, and yes."

Remus groaned. "I dread to imagine what your father thinks up there about demolishing the proud name of Potter…" The man ruefully shook his head. "Well, I'm sure Sirius at least is applauding your efforts. He never liked the way of the Blacks."

"I am of the same opinion. However, I believe, my parents would want me to live my life as I myself see fit if what I heard about them is true."

"It is true, you are right. So what are your plans?"

"Well, I am in the process of enrolling to Hogwarts' seventh year. Which brings me to a request… Can you tutor me a bit to get through OWLs and sixth year material?"

"I see no difficulties, I am now a freelancer, I suppose. But haven't you already taken your OWLs?"

"First of all, it was Harry Potter who did the exams so the records aren't valid for me; and, secondly, I want to do better than before, and with the addition of two extra subjects – Arithmancy and Ancient Runes."

"Very well. I'll help you in any way I can. As I said I am always unoccupied nowadays, not counting Order missions," the werewolf said bitterly.

"Hey, don't be glum! I am trying to work on the werewolf prejudice! Maybe I can do something about the recently passed laws on magical creatures…"

"You are working…" Remus trailed off and eyed the stacks of papers and books that were now situated in the hall's corner. "Whatever, pray tell, you are looking for exactly?

"You know… Laws on werewolf rights and anti-rights, legal solutions, precedents, cases, ways to annul old laws and pass on new ones… That kind of things," Ryan frowned. "It is most unfortunate that I have to come out to the Wizengamot with my two-vote Lordship. I am sure the world will work out my previous identity pretty fast."

Ryan looked devastated.

"Not necessarily. Many old families faded into obscurity such a long time ago that even the archives bare no knowledge of them. However, the legawiz magic will still recognize them as the rightful members of the Wizengamot."

"Really?" hope blossomed in the young mage's heart. He really didn't want his new life to be in any way associated with Harry Potter's, at the very least in public.

"Really," reassured Remus. "Just play up the card of being the head of a really secluded and previously anti-social clan. For instance, tell people, that the majority of the clan died in an epidemic or something like that and that when you became the Lord, you decided to change the policy."

"Ah, Moony, you're a genius! Thanks, I'll definitely weave that piece into my cover story."

Ryan gathered the uncomfortable werewolf in a bear hug, and then punched him in the shoulder. "Enough with the serious stuff. How about we wrestle? I do need some exercise after all that time in the Knowledge Chambers!"

Remus just sighed and let himself being dragged to the outside, presumably to wrestle. It would take some time to get used to this new version of his godson.

Hurbert Evangelios Ollivander was old. Some would even go as far as to call him ancient. If he had had a more shiny profession, people would have already noticed that his lifetime frame bordered on being immortal. As it is, they just assumed that the wand store was family business run by the generations of Ollivanders. And while the man was not truly immortal, he was in fact one very strong mage and lived already for more than two thousand years. His talents lay in Aura-Sight and in the field of crafting magical tools.

When he was young, Hubertus was lucky enough to be apprenticed to one of the old-timers and evolve into a powerful mage. However, he himself did not share the views of his Master and have never taken on any pupil. For what if he might ask? He wasn't going to die any time soon and didn't ever feel the urge to share his unique skills.

One of the last potential Apprentices he saw in his wandshop was actually such a good match to his own gifts that he even had briefly contemplated the possibility of becoming a teacher. But in the end, the mage decided it wasn't worth his time. So that was how Albus Brian Percival Wulfric Dumbledore was left to his own devices. The gifts themselves weren't particularly volatile, but it did provide a certain challenge to cope with Aura-Sight without proper training. Ollivander was highly amused monitoring the progress of the future "most powerful wizard". And though it did skew his mentality and made him a bit barmy, the teen finally managed to get his sight under control.

There was only one reason besides his gift why Ollivander became a wandmaker – sadistic amusement. He remembered times when wands were still frowned upon by the majority of magicals. Even though most people couldn't draw and manipulate magic without one or other device's help, the variety of such devices was enormous. Wands, stuffs, jewelry, musical instruments, clothes, pottery… It didn't really matter what form a conduit took, the more fine-tuned towards the character of a wizard the device was the more effective it worked. Wands were the most generic tool, usually used by children until they switched to a specific instrument or to pure magic manipulation, which was nowadays called wandless magic. In the long-term wands were actually detrimental to one's magical core, crippling its owner's potential.

It was Merlin who started a trend of the wands usage. Frankly speaking, the boy's wand was an ideal match to him, but that was a coincidence that happens one time in a million. The sheeple, however, looked up to the heroic figure and followed his example without further questions. Merlin himself also encouraged this behaviour for whatever selfish reasons he had. It helped as well that the wand magic if not the most efficient was the simplest and quickest one to learn and could be easily standardized, which was not the case with the specialized magical tools. One didn't need to work hard and think independently – create on a daily basis. Was it really a surprise that the wizarding society evolved into a joke it is now?

After Merlin had outlived his usefulness, Ollivander disposed of him, as well as of many others. It wouldn't do to have a lot of mages running around. In the end, the ancient mage lived contentedly, safe in the knowledge that he was one of if not The strongest magical in the world. This fact warmed his old and callous heart.

So it was quite a shock for the man to arrive in the morning to his workplace and find it gone - destroyed in the most malicious way without his advanced wards even making a peep. The house was burned down, angry flames still licking at the carnage, and Aurors were futilely trying extinguish the fire.

Ollivander shuddered when he smelled sulphur in the air. He got closer to the catastrophe scene and actually blushed. There in the middle of the ruins soared upwards a wall with a series of obscene carved pictures about what one could do with a wand. And that something was anything but magic.

Ollivander felt chill overcoming his body despite the surrounding heat, when he saw a message addressed solely to him. There was no doubt that only he could see and read it.

Aura-Seer and Crafter Ollivander,

Do something more useful with your time. This society is already as stagnant as it can get. Do not return back to your "family" business. If you do, there would be consequences to pay. And I assure you I WILL know.

Best regards,

Dreamer and Summoner Flhoyer.

P.S. I hope you didn't store any items of personal or sentimental value at the store.

The late wandmaker was so shocked by the occurring events that he failed to notice the herd of black-robed figures apparate to the alley, simultaneously stun him and immediately disapparate with his body in tow.

The Aurors still trying out different water spells to stop the fire, which curiously enough didn't spread behind the borders of the burnt house, were too slow to react and were left to helplessly stare at once again empty early morning street.

AN: Evil cackle Should I add Evil!Ollivander or Ollivander-bashing to the story description? Hurray! I found my villain! I really can't explain how that came about.