Disclaimer: If ye know of Harry Potter, then ye know I don't own it- I'm male. Seemplz.

WANDHOOD

Harry thought about the damage he'd cause if he used all his might in one spell… "Sir, I will need a vow of silence in this matter, especially from Dumbledore. I cannot be revealed this early." To hell with it. He doesn't know what I can do! I don't want to level Diagon Alley, anyway. I haven't finished shopping!

Stupefy, Harry thought. The red bolt of supercharged lightning careened the width of the shop, and into the dead centre of the target. The red and white ringed target instantly disintegrated, as a shockwave of red, pulsing force swept through the shop. A number appeared in mid-air, where the target used to be. A scorched hole in the wall gave away its old position. Harry looked at his wand, or what was left of it. A smouldering mass of carbonised wood was clutched in his right hand. Too much power, methinks…

Ollivander's bushy grey eyebrows rose into his hairline, and he promptly sat flat on his backside. But, but that's not… WHAT?! The old man thought, as he studied the floating numerals. Not even Merlin himself scored that high! Harry beat him by a factor of ten thousand! What on earth…

Harry quickly repaired the damage, and doused the flames that the bolt of magic had caused. He laughed at Ollivander's expression- one of stupefaction. He bent down and heaved the old man onto a stool, making sure he was alright.

"Mr. Ollivander. Sir? Are you alright? Can I have a wand now, please?" The old man shook himself, and glanced at the wall. Same as ever.

"Mr. Potter, I have never in my life heard of a score that high… You didn't even speak aloud! No one can know! The press would hound you until death to find your secrets! Of course you may have a wand! I am proud that you are using one of my own, too!" Ollivander hopped off the stool like a spring chicken, and led Harry towards the back of the shop. He casually flicked his wand over his shoulder, locking and bolting the door.

"This Mr. Potter, is my collection of special wands. They are purely experimental, you understand- to my knowledge, no other wandsmith has ever used two woods in a wand, nor runes or combined cores. Walk among my creations, Mr. Potter, and find your match!" Harry raised his eyebrows at the old man's theatrics. "What? It's not very often that I nearly get my shop blown up, and find the most powerful wizard ever. Let alone show him my wands!"

Harry slowly walked past the four shelves of wand boxes, each wrapped in cotton wrappings, like an Egyptian mummy. He passed his hand over each box's end, feeling the magic waving off of each one in turn. As he neared the end of the fourth shelf, he felt an astonishing wave of power off of one box in particular. He pointed it out to Ollivander, who slowly took it off the shelf, and unwrapped the inert bindings. Looking at Harry, he spoke.

"I am not surprised, Mr. Potter, that you have chosen this wand. My finest, a god amongst the others, a rival power to the Elder Wand of legend. Made of redwood and laurel, the two woods have been grown into each other- they share a symbiotic relationship at the deepest of levels. Redwood symbolises ancient knowledge, whilst laurel stands for victory. Runes for healing, conjuration and precision are etched along the length, to aid its forté. The core of a Thestral's heartstring doused in a Drakul Lord's blood links this wand to both the afterlife and the Dark. I can sense the dark in you, Mr. Potter, but also your determination to help the light. This is a special wand, Mr. Potter, one which is destined for great things. It will be able to cope with whatever you can pump through it, I'm sure- as I'm also sure that you didn't give that test your all. When the time comes, this wand will do great things." The old man's brow furrowed then.

"I believe that you would like a holster for this, would you not? Perhaps some charms on it?" Harry nodded.

"Perhaps, sir, I could learn under you the art of wandsmithing? I promise not to enter business with my skills until you are happy for me to do so, if that helps sir. You see, I will not always… be here, if you understand me?" Ollivander looked positively enchanted that he wanted to learn from him. It seemed to have done the trick.

"Harry! I would be ecstatic for you to do so! I would ask where you would go, but I suppose that is too private? Yes, I thought so, too. Now, first, we have to take an accounting of your purchases, and then I will take your vow of silence…"

Harry walked out of Ollivander's beaming at his new purchases. His wand was safe in the best holster money could buy. Anti-summon, anti-theft and protection charms abounded upon the stalwart piece of leatherwork. He'd watched Ollivander craft the holster from a small tanned hide, and into the shining example on his arm. He knew that he'd be making changes later, but for now, it was as good as it was going to get. He ambled up the Alley once more, and he came to Madam Malkin's Robes for all Occasions. As he was about to push the door open, someone stormed out. He stood stock still, and allowed them to plough into him. In due course, that person was laid out on the floor, due to his immovability.

Harry looked down at the prone figure. Interesting. Malfoy Jr. is out on the sulk-train again… Harry crouched down, and slowly drew the Potter Ring over the boy's neck. Malfoy tried to leap up out of the dirt, thus spearing his neck on the sharp claw. He suddenly howled in agony as the pain runes came into effect, and the vampiric ones sucked out some of his magic. Harry smirked in sadistic pleasure at the boy's screaming. The pain should only last until the claw was no longer in contact. What a wimp, Harry thought.

As Malfoy ran off screaming, he walked into the clothing shop, leaving Jupiter to once again take to the rooftops.

The normally ordered racks of clothing were strewn across the shop floor, and Madam Malkin sat in the middle of the chaos, bawling her eyes out.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong? What did that boy do to make you cry, Madam Malkin?" The woman howled.

"He- he- He stole all of the money in my till, and- and he showed me the Dark Mark!" Harry frowned. Seems like Draco is following his father… Harry thought, as he pondered the situation- he had no experience with crying women. He quickly knelt down next to her, saying "Madam Malkin, trust me when I say that I will get your money back for you. I know who that was. Tell you what- If you tell me how much he took, I'll give you that back now, and I'll take it off him when I catch him, eh?" Harry helped the lady up, and set about dusting off her robes. Next, he waved his wand, replacing everything as they should have been.

Harry turned to Madam Malkin then, and said, "Right, then. How much was it he took?"

"He took my takings for the day, so not too much, but still… around five hundred Galleons!" Madam Malkin winced, knowing that the price was beyond the pocket change of her normal customers. Harry grinned. Not as much as he thought.

"Well, tell you what. I'll give you five hundred and fifty, to make up for the stress, and I'll enjoy cursing the living shit out of him later, ok?" His sunny tone was the opposite of his intention, stunning the middle-aged witch for a second. Then, she smiled a watery smile, and nodded. Harry then walked over to the open till, and deposited handfuls of Galleons, Sickles and Knuts into it. He smiled at the witch, letting her know he was serious. Then he turned to the racks and started browsing.

The witch sat down behind the counter, and settled her head in her hands, slowly drifting off to sleep.

"Hello, Madam Malkin? You awake? I've chosen my robes, so I'd like to pay." The witch sleepily rubbed her eyes, until the lad before her came into view.

"Oh! I'm so sorry dear, I must have dropped off. What was it you wanted?" She saw the piles of robes in Harry's arms. "Right you are dear, I'll need to take your size, and then we can get around to personalising them, ok, dear?"

Harry personally thought that she was overdoing the whole 'dear' thing, but who was he to judge? The witch withdrew a tape measure from her voluminous bosom, and set about taking down the floating numbers representing Harry's manly figure. After that was done, she stored the measure back in her cleavage, and noticed Harry looking.

"What? It's the easiest place to keep something I use all the time! Don't stare!" Harry glanced away guiltily, but refused to blush. Why should he? She was the one fishing around in her boobs. Anyway. The witch proceeded to alter each robe to Harry's measurements.

His eventual shopping list consisted of:

One black cotton duelling robe.

One set of black Hungarian Horntail duelling boots.

One set of silk pyjamas, minus nightcap.

Three sets of black khakis.

One set of Colour-Change plimsolls.

He asked Madam Malkin to charm them to be impervious to fire, water and extreme winds and snows. The robes were embroidered with the phoenix from the box that contained the Potter Ring- the one swallowing Lightning. Then, the pyjamas were embroidered with the Hogwarts coat of arms. After that was done, Harry paid Madam Malkin, much to her displeasure. She knew he'd given her more than five hundred Galleons, but he wouldn't take it back. So, she gave him a free charm, attached to his Family Ring- one of protection against bad luck.

Harry walked out onto Diagon Alley once more, looking left and right as did so. Silently, he cast a ward over the building that prevented access to anyone with the Dark Mark, or intention to take it. This summer would see several very angry customers, covered in boils and welts, chief among them being Severus Snape. How was he supposed to buy swishy robes in the latest fashion if he couldn't get into the shop?

Harry envisaged the justice done to the Death Eaters so far. One dead, one scarred for life (soon to be cursed to death), and that was it. Considering he was taking a break, Harry was pleased with his progress. For now. Harry turned to Knockturn Alley, wearing his new duelling clothes. He added some extra charms to the fabrics to ensure long life, no wear and tear, and an even climate. He pulled up the hood, and made sure it covered his still-disguised face. Then he swept down the seedier part of Diagon Alley, and into Knockturn.

Harry was eager to see the reception someone new would get, but fear was not one of them. The one hag he came across knelt before he reached her, and only rose after he had swept silently by. Curiouser and curiouser… Harry pondered. Maybe it's the Mask in my bag… Harry was heading for Borgin & Burke's first, and from there, he would get some information about other facilities in Knockturn.

As soon as Harry came across the dirty-windowed shop-front, he fixed his features. He made his eyes recede into his head like Sirius' and made his hair super-greasy like Snape's. Large, overbearing cheekbones over a sallow mouth completed his look- a typically unsavoury character. He swung the door open loudly, causing it to bash into the wall behind it. He stepped through the portal, and slammed the door shut. Sweeping up to the counter, he made his presence known by loudly calling for Borgin.

"Where are you Borgin? I have need of your services! Where are you, little runt?!" Borgin stepped out from behind a stack of shelves filled with old skulls. He sidled up to the counter, bowing all the while.

"My Lord, my Lord, I am at your humble service! What can I do for you this fine day?" The little man wheedled like a child.

"I wish to buy your entire stock of books. Unless, of course, they prove to be the meanderings of some useless wannabe Dark Wizard who never achieved anything." The old man gained a greedy glint in his eye at that. He was used to lords coming in and pushing him around, oh yes, but never interested in spending that much money!

"My Lord, I am pleased that you are one who pursues knowledge, but… I regret to inform you that there is something you must do first. I must have your vow- the Unbreakable Vow- that you are not of the Ministry, nor intend to tell others of the contents of my stock. Not all of it is… strictly legal, you understand, hm?" Harry nodded, and grasped the elderly man's hand. Two fiery bands formed around their wrists, signifying that both parts of the agreement were carried over to the Vow.

"Very well. Follow me, my Lord." Harry was loving the 'my Lord's from everyone, it made him feel very… medieval. Harry followed the old man through to the back room, and from there down through a hidden trap door into a large storage space filled to the brim with shelves and storage containers. He could tell that most of it was junk. Cursed junk, but still junk. He took a look at the books on the shelves, delighted to find some good ones amongst the chaff.

A Dark Compendium of Potent Potions, Poisons and Pastes. A Dark Compendium of Potent Curses, Jinxes, and Hexes. A Dark Compendium of Potent Ingredients and their Beasts. Three of the four Dark Compendiums! Harry wondered about the fourth, Potent Rituals, Pacts and Vows. He picked up the three, and put them to the side. Other books caught his attention. Ministry-Regulated Incantations, and their Effects. What the Ministry Doesn't Want You To Know About Blood Magic. Ministry-Controlled Substances and how to Get Them. Ancient Civilisations and their Lost Knowledge: Atlantis. Ancient Civilisations and their Lost Knowledge: Peru. Ancient Civilisations and their Lost Knowledge: Egypt. Ancient Civilisations and their Lost Knowledge: Japan. These books continued with other countries- Africa, China, Russia, Mongolia, North America, Greece, Rome, even England. Harry was understandably excited about the last one- it may hold the ritual that threw Jupiter here! Besides books, Harry also rooted through the storage boxes, looking for anything interesting.

The first box held some decent jewels, but nothing he'd buy- he had tons anyway. The second box was much the same. The third, however, was different. Inside was a black stone monolith, simply seeping power. Harry didn't know what it was, but he wanted it. He put that storage box with his books, and carried on looking. The fourth box held mainly Merlin memorabilia, but had the occasional gem such as his Grimoire. The fifth was the same as the first two, until Harry came to the sixth and last box.

He could feel his wand actually vibrating in the vicinity of it, almost as if it was attracted to whatever was inside… Turning to Borgin, Harry asked "Old man, what is in this box? It feels… Strange." Borgin crept forwards, and read the box signifier with his short eyesight.

"My- My Lord. Funny that you should react to this box in particular… Inside is a tablet, one leading to vast trove of knowledge, one that I haven't been able to read. It, ah- threw me out. Didn't particularly enjoy my presence. My Lord, the tablet is one that I think leads to the last sealing place of Cain- the son of Adam and Eve, who killed his own brother. The legendary first Dark Wizard, and first Parseltongue. If you can read it, I'll shift it for five hundred Galleons- not a Knut less!" Harry pondered this. Adam and Eve had been the ones to steal the first Apple of Eden from the First Civilisation, thus granting them the genetic trait of Parseltongue. He knew of Desmond's quest to defeat the Templars, who bore Cain's Mark. He knew Cain was immensely powerful, so who knew what knowledge he'd locked away? He'd buy it!

Harry took one last look around the secret room, and picked one more book- Animagi and How to be One. He quickly left before he bought anything else, levitating his purchases behind him. At the counter, where Borgin once more held his reign, the items were totalled up. Even though the library in the Room of True Self was amazingly extensive, it barely covered what Harry needed to know, nor was it the limit of what the Inheritance allowed him to take in.

"That will be fourteen thousand and thirty Galleons, twelve Sickles and four Knuts. Including my discount of buying more than half of good stock." Harry raised his eyebrows. Borgin being nice? What?

He reached for his Moneybag, and withdrew another draft. He wrote it out to Borgin himself, rather than the shop, and rounded it up to fifteen thousand Galleons- payment for the vow of silence.

"Borgin, before you receive this, I need your binding vow silence that you will never reveal in any way that I was here, understood?" Borgin nodded frantically, eager to receive the bonus. The two grasped hands, and a fiery band of light stretched around their hands. It faded, leaving a slight burnt line.

"Acceptable. Now, I am interested in other ancient artefacts, as well as muggle literature and technology. I need access to vast troves of knowledge, most of which is banned. Ideas?" Harry was curious as to what other kinds of things he could find in Knockturn- all he knew of was this very shop.

"Well, my Lord, seeing as you are the discerning customer with no respect for the Ministry, I'll point you in the right direction. Further down into Knockturn, is a small trapdoor into the muggle sewers. Through there is the basement of a muggle technology shop. Any technology you could want will be there. For the artefacts, there are plenty of dealerships out there that get orders in from Egypt, Mesopotamia, Greece, heck, even Atlantis. They're all illegal- supposedly Dark, due to their being foreign, see? There's even a rumour going around that Old Man Joe has some other tomb locations, and extremely rare ingredients. Phoenix-talon rare…" Borgin winked, knowing that Harry was hooked. What he didn't know, however, that Harry was hooked on the tombs, rather than the ingredients.

"How do I get to… Old Man Joe, then?"

"I can only say this once, so listen carefully. Right. Left. Right. Left. Twist and jump. Left. Got it?" Harry nodded, and then left.

Harry looked left and then right out on Knockturn Alley. Following Borgin's instructions, he turned right, started the walk to Old Man Joe's. Harry quickly decided to not take the twists in the small alleys as actual turnings, and only the actual junctions. He reached a corner and turned sharp left, instead of left, into a small niche. He twisted and jumped, much as if he was apparating, and then took the left path. Huh. The twist must have altered a ward or something. Harry thought, as up ahead was a large warehouse, which definitely wasn't there before. He smiled.

The door creaked open before he could reach it, allowing Harry entry to a bizarre mix of plastic muggle décor and old stone. The warehouse held thousands upon thousands of the same storage boxes that Borgin had, stacked one atop another up to the roof, which had been expanded to accommodate all of the boxes. To the left of the large warehouse doors was a rickety plywood counter, balanced on two tables. Behind it was a twenty-something year old man with an overbearing name badge proclaiming him to be 'Joe'. Harry smirked, it must be some kind of unsettling tactic.

"I'm looking for ancient artefacts. No price limit. Rare books on pretty much anything. Tools and muggle items. Things you want to get rid of. Let's go!"

The next three hours were spent trawling through the relevant storage boxes- most were useless, but there were, of course, some diamonds in the rough. The locations of several tombs and ancient sites of power that would be useful later; several dozen books in varying languages detailing forgotten magicks, rituals and spells that would be useful; another black monolith similar to the one in Borgin and Burke's; and, finally, a massive stockpile of well-kept muggle tools, literature and technology, kept in a magic-proof box. These would be the basis of Harry's technosorcery business, and his forging of the new and improved weapons, with muggle knowledge to help him.

Harry left Old Man Joe's a very happy man. He'd gotten what he came for, plus some extra. Harry came back out of Knockturn Alley, ignored the other shops, and went straight out into muggle London, leaving Jupiter to hunt pigeons in Diagon Alley.

A/N: Just wondering if, y'know, all those many millions of readers out there would actually review at some point. It's not like I need some CONSTRUCTIVE CRITICISM or OPINONS or even ANY IDEAS. I would also still like to know if anyone would like to know my unpublished works… ₪.₪

Inspirational Music of the Week: The Kids Are Right Now by Skindred

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Book of the Week: Tuf Voyaging by George R. R. Martin