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Chapter 6: Wands And ...
Severus and Harry stood on the steps of Gringotts, blinking in the bright sunlight. Harry was still re-living the swooping motion of the cart as it thundered through the caves, the professor, meanwhile felt like he had been hit by a bludger and was still trying to work out when he had lost control of the situation.
Somehow, the order to take Harry Potter shopping for school supplies has mutated from a single, simple task into a spider's web of requirements and obligations. Another kid in need of protection and a wizarding education, the control of whose finances he has filched from Dumbledore (with the help of the goblins) and who would need extensive defense and duelling training on top of his other duties. He found himself requiring a favour from Augusta Longbottom, and Merlin knew she never liked him. He was not looking forward to … speak of the devil.
Madam Augusta Longbottom was striding towards them down Diagon Alley. The famous vulture hat had been eschewed in favour of a summer bonnet due to the heat but her huge, red handbag still carried all before it, a warning beacon that moved witches and wizards out of her path as if they were as insubstantial as ghosts. Her grandson, Neville, trailed dutifully behind, the image of his father, if rounder of face and more subdued of demeanour.
"Come with me, Harry. Don't speak until spoken to." Severus stepped forward directly into Madam Longbottom's path.
"My humble apologies, Madam Longbottom, I had not seen you there. How are you today?" The elderly witch looked at him, unimpressed. She did not believe him to be either clumsy or unaware of his surroundings.
"I understand Neville will be joining us at Hogwarts this year?" The boy at her elbow nodded nervously, eyeing the tall, lean, black-clad stranger with caution.
"And who would 'us' be?" Augusta Longbottom cut to the chase. She has many things she would rather do than bandy words with a Death Eater. Sorry, former Death Eater. Dumbledore and his second chances be damned, the whole lot of them should've been given the dementor's kiss at the end of the war.
"May I present, Mr. Harry Potter, Head-in-waiting of House Potter? Mr. Potter, this is Madam Augusta Longbottom, Regent of House Longbottom and her grandson, Neville, Heir Longbottom."
"Pleased to meet you Ma'am, Mr. Longbottom." Harry offered a tentative handshake.
Augusta Longbottom eyed the boy up and down and muttered a quiet 'humph' to herself before taking his hand. "Pleased to meet you too, Mr. Potter."
Snape stepped back. If Harry made the running, this conversation might go better but he's had no chance to talk to him. Hopefully he was paying attention in Skergold's office and can see a way to get this formidable witch on his side.
"We were just on the way to Ollivander's to get my wand. Has Neville already got his, or could we go together?" Harry rather liked the look of the round-faced boy currently assessing him from behind the red handbag; he lacked Dudley's meanness or Malfoy's stiffness.
Severus is pleased and a little impressed. Potter has hit the right note, even if it was by sheer luck.
"Neville is using his father's wand, Mr. Potter, but thank you for the invitation."
Snape looked more closely at the Longbottom heir. He doubted that would work well. The boy might look like Frank Longbottom but, even from a minute's acquaintance, their personalities were not a close match. Where he remembered Frank as bold, bright and confident, this lad seemed introverted. There was no way that wand would work properly for him.
"But what will he do for a second wand, Madam Longbottom?"
The scowl on her face was back instantly. "He's going to be a student not a hit wizard, Snape."
Snape's voice dropped to a whisper. "He's been a target before, he'll be one again. I will be getting Mr. Potter a spare wand and I recommend you do the same for Neville. His life for the sake of a dozen galleons and your pride, Madam Longbottom?"
She flushed angrily but Snape had long ago ceased to care what people thought of him. He would apply sarcasm or anger as required and even provoke outright hatred if it would help. However, he was trying to pull his punches somewhat with Augusta Longbottom today. He needed to work with her for Harry's sake.
"And if I do, how is he going to learn how to use it? Don't think I don't know about the parade of no-hopers Dumbledore has teaching defence."
"I will be giving Harry private tuition. I could offer the same to Neville if you are interested."
She had not expected that and was uncertain how she felt about it. Unlike many, she had a long memory, and the image of the sour-faced boy, fresh out of Hogwarts, going straight into the finals of the European duelling championships was clear enough. No doubt he could teach but she did not trust him. He had gone straight from that triumph to the Death Eaters. "What exactly would you be teaching?"
Snape studied her face. She was willing, if he could find the right reassurances. "We could negotiate that, Madam Longbottom. In the first year it would have little to do with magic; speed, endurance, agility and theory until they are older and their cores are more mature."
"Draw up a contract and I will consider it." That was a major concession. Snape expressed his pleasure with a slight bow.
With narrowed eyes, Augusta Longbottom held her arm out for the potions master to take and the gestured him onwards to Ollivander's. It irritated her to have to reconsider her opinions.
With a shrug, he was getting used to chunks of conversations going over his head, Harry fell in behind and offered Neville a cautious smile.
Ollivander's was the least impressive storefront on Diagon Alley. "He has a captive clientele." Snape sighed. "Every witch or wizard passes through his doors at least once."
"I believe the window display is as it was when I was a child." Augusta concurred.
The shop was empty. Snape moved the chair into the light by the window for Augusta to sit. The two boys stared wide-eyed at the long narrow boxes piled high on the shelves, stretching away into the darkness.
"Good afternoon." Mr. Ollivander seemed to appear out of thin air. Three of the four customers jumped. The fourth rolled his eyes. "Mr. Potter and Mr. Longbottom, what a … suitable … co-incidence that you should be in my shop at the same time."
"Severus, it has been too long. 11 ½" ebony and dragon heartstring, I believe? A pleasure to see you. I still cannot convince you to abandon your cauldrons and take up an apprenticeship?"
"Garrick. I was of the understanding that we disagreed on every fundamental. It would hardly be a harmonious arrangement."
"Really Severus, what is life without a challenge?"
"Peaceful, I would imagine. I suspect Madam Longbottom would appreciate your assistance for Mr. Longbottom so that she can get home out of this wretched heat."
Augusta Longbottom found her confusion only increasing. Ollivander had never joked about his craft. He would genuinely consider taking Snape as an apprentice? Neville meanwhile has been summoned deeper into the shop and the magic tape measure was fluttering busily around him. Harry watched, his wide eyes gleaming with interest.
Severus lowered his voice. "People forget my mother was a Prince. My family talents lie in craft not casting."
"You are correct, Professor. I had forgotten. My apologies. And yet you were a formidable duellist in your youth."
"Needs must, Madam Longbottom."
"So, Severus," there was little emotion in Ollivander's milky eyes but his body language betrayed his excitement at the opportunity to debate rather than lecture. "What are your thoughts on Mr. Longbottom?"
"I have met Mr. Longbottom but ten minutes since." But it was hopeless, Severus Snape could never back down from a challenge. "Unicorn hair, for sure. Oak, perhaps: he has more power than initially obvious. Maybe willow or chestnut would be more apt?"
"Oh, no argument about the core." Mr. Ollivander bustled from shelf to shelf pulling down half a dozen boxes. "Let us try these, young man."
Neville has become more and more anxious as the conversation has gone on. He only managed to generate a few sparks from his father's wand which his family took as confirmation of his near squib status. He is uncertain as to what would be the worse outcome; to find a wand that works better, which his grandmother will take as an insult to his father, or to have his magical weakness confirmed to the wider magical community.
"Oak and unicorn hair, 9 ½ inches. Give it a wave."
Harry was relieved that Neville needed prompting as to the correct course of action. It made him feel a little less lost and bewildered.
The wand did nothing and was replaced with a handsome 13 inch chestnut one. Neville looks at the wand-maker in surprise as he feels the warmth spread over his hand. He waved it experimentally and was rewarded with a few sparks. "Hmm. Not quite right. That's one you might grow in to, but not now."
"What do you mean "grow in to" Garrick Ollivander. You don't change your wand like your boots." Madam Longbottom was the epitome of disapproval.
"No, madam, but people grow and change. And while the wand chooses the wizard, there is nothing to say that more than one wand will not choose the same wizard. Although, I believe that there is always a best match that we should strive for." Ollivander threw an apologetic glance at Severus. "That young man over there has had his ebony wand since he was eleven but he has gone through any number of secondary wands over the years and they were not always the same core or wood."
"Willow and unicorn hair, nice and supple, 11 inches." He hands the next wand to Neville.
This one didn't just warm his hand, Neville felt the heat travel all over his body and when he waved it, there was a shower of red and gold sparks that shocked and delighted him in equal measure.
"You were right Severus, if you ever get tired of teaching potions …"
"I will go and do the research that I have been forced to shelve for more than a decade …" but miracle of miracles, Severus Snape just smiled in public.
Madam Longbottom paid for the wand and turned to leave the store. She had much to think about.
Neville gave Harry a cheerful wave and said "See you at Hogwarts!" Harry nodded but looked disappointed that they were going so soon.
Severus saw his opportunity. "Forgive me the presumption, Madam Longbottom, but it would be nice for Harry and Neville to have a chance to get to know each other before Hogwarts, would it not? Would it be acceptable if I brought the boy to tea a week from Saturday? I believe we have much to discuss that does not belong in a public setting."
"I will send an invitation." That man was outrageous, but the idea was good, blast it.
"To myself, please, Madam Longbottom. Mr. Potter will still be at his muggle relatives' house."
The door chime sounded twice as the Longbottoms left the cool, dark interior of the shop for the heat and noise of Diagon Alley.
Garrick Ollivander looked at Severus Snape. "You are troubled, young man."
"Today has been difficult, Garrick, and it is not yet over."
"You think Mr. Potter will be a challenge to match."
"And I need you to find him two wands."
"They will both need to be registered with the ministry."
"I have no problem with that, although if you could keep the second wand from Albus …"
"Unless he asks specifically, but you need to be aware he has already asked me to let him know which wand chooses Mr. Potter. Why do you think he will be difficult to match?"
"Muggle raised, challenging family. He's not sure who he is yet." Harry was irritated that they were talking as if he wasn't there.
"So, we need to watch for any wand that would take advantage of that."
"Take advantage?" Harry was unable to contain himself.
"Yes, Mr. Potter. The wand chooses the wizard but they go forward together, influencing one another. If you are still finding your feet, we need to avoid any wand that is too strong-willed, that might prevent you from becoming who you should be."
Ollivander flipped the sign on the door from "open" to "closed". "There, that will give us privacy. Are you left- or right-handed, Mr. Potter?"
The tape measure fluttered around him as it had Neville but when it has finished, Mr. Ollivander is still looking perplexed. "You are going to be challenging, aren't you?"
Twenty wand boxes later they were no further forward. Ollivander raised his eyebrows at Snape. "Stop looking smug and make some suggestions."
"Phoenix feather core. For the wood, I am uncertain. Aspen, Oak? How much does believing in a destiny shape the future?"
Ollivander re-shelved the previous efforts and returned with four boxes. He placed three directly on the chair but looked uncertainly at the fourth.
"If you are worried about it, it is almost certain to be the correct choice." Snape said cynically.
Ollivander opened the box and handed the wand to Harry. "Holly and phoenix feather. Eleven inches, supple."
The shower of red and gold sparks surprised no-one.
"So, what's so bad about this wand?" Harry was puzzled. The wand felt good, felt right.
"Nothing in and of itself. It suggests you have a temper, so you may have a couple of tough years learning self-control." Snape was trying to be nonchalant but didn't need divination to know who was likely to be on the receiving end of said temper.
"It represents a dichotomy, Mr. Potter. The holly is passionate, the phoenix is detached. It is also the brother wand to the Dark Lord's – he also has a phoenix tail feather core from the same bird – Dumbledore's phoenix."
"What does that mean?" Harry knew it didn't sound good.
"That your second wand is more important than ever." Could it get any more complicated? Snape seethed. "Brother wands are rare and unpredictable if they come into conflict. Both wands can decide to side with one wizard in a duel."
"What do you think, Severus? Where will we find his second wand?" Ollivander tried to move the conversation away from such painful matters.
"You know what I am going to say, Garrick. One of your grandfather's specials."
"I don't like those wands. They haven't found a wizard in over a hundred years. Why would it happen now?"
"They are good wands. And why are you upset that it has taken so long to get a match? There are older wands in this shop and your great-great-grandson will still stock and sell your creations for when the right wizard arrives."
Ollivander continued to mutter disconsolately as he retreated to a dark corner and returned with half a dozen battered and extremely dusty boxes. He cheered slightly when he opened the first box. "You will remember this one, Severus."
The wand looked nothing like any of the others Harry had seen. All of Ollivander's wands, for all that they were carved and ornamented, looked like natural products of the tree from which they were made. This wand did not look natural. It was made of two different woods. A silvery-pale aspen and pitch-black ebony wrapped around each other in a perfect spiral. The tip was a cone of aspen, the handle a solid capsule of ebony inlaid with a series of runes in the most delicate mother of pearl marquetry. It sang to Harry.
"Aspen and ebony with dragon heartstring. 12 inches."
Harry picked it up and felt the heat flood through him. When he waved it, the sparks were not red and gold but silver and green.
"And a bloody hatstall on top of everything else." Ollivander heard Snape's growl but Harry, fortunately, did not.
"That is an elegant, balanced wand, Mr. Potter. Should it cease to work easily for you, you would do well to look to your own inner balance. It will help you anticipate and resolve problems before they become entrenched."
"Mr. Potter. You will need to keep that wand out of sight. There is no benefit to having a back up if everyone know that you have it and what it looks like. That a Gerbold Ollivander wand has chosen you would cause a great deal of comment."
"Yes, Professor."
"And yet you need to practice. A second wand is no good if you cannot cast a spell instantly. Every spell you learn. Both wands, both hands, Mr. Potter. If you are doing it right, I should not be able to tell which combination you are using."
"Garrick, could we have one hip holster for now, please? I will be equipping him properly once I have a better understanding of his fighting style."
Harry handed over the requisite 23 galleons then Snape showed him how to attach the holster to his trousers and draw the wand if necessary. The latter lesson was accompanied by dire threats as to what would happen to him if he were to draw the wand or cast any spell, without instruction from an adult witch or wizard, outside of Hogwarts.