Disclaimer: See first chapter.

Note: I made Fleur a year younger. The minimal age for participating was 16 instead of 17.

Chapter: The Heir's Shopping Spree

Gabriel left Gringotts with a sore back and a headache worse than the Cruciatus. "Bloody Goblins, those things are more sadistic than Voldiepants himself..." Well, there was nothing he could do except pop all vertebrae he could and take the headache relieving potion Snakebite had given him. They'd been there for over three hours! And Gabriel thought Binns' classes were dull.
He covered his eyes from the brightness of the four o'clock sun, having been inside the bank since before midday and thus resenting the brightness that contrasted with the dull torchlight that reigned in the Goblin halls. He wanted nothing more than to go to the Leaky Cauldron, rent a room like he had three years before and fall down in its bed. He wanted to lie down and weep, for is parents, for his owl, for his Godfather... Hell, even for himself.
But the simple fact was that grief, as his life had taught him many times over already, was a luxury for those with the peace and the time necessary. He would mourn who and what he wanted to mourn when he could. And right now, mourning whomever or whatever he wanted to mourn was simply not possible. Maybe in the month before Hogwarts he could. Maybe.
But if he couldn't mourn, and he wasn't ready to rest... He could certainly still shop.
Merlin knew he needed a new wardrobe... Which was now an incredibly amusing thought for him, since Merlin probably did know. "My life is weird... But then again, it was weird already, so right now, I don't even know what to call it."." How about something you shouldn't be wasting time thinking about instead of shopping... Or moving... Or indeed doing anything?"."... Shut up."

Harry had spent weeks in the Alley during the summer before his third year at Hogwarts. And so Gabriel knew it better than most twenty year old wizards, even if they weren't Muggleborn. So he quickly attempted to make a mental list of what he needed to shop for.
Clothes? Whole new wardrobe, pronto.
Books? Oh, yes. Definitely.
A new trunk was in order too, since he'd probably need more space.
He would need to have a chat with Skyfjord before buying anything for her... SKYFJORD! HE'D FORGOTTEN SKYFJORD!
-'/ Would you calm yourself? You didn't forget me, I've just been practicing flaming all over the country because quite frankly, you needed to stand on your own despite your grief during the Will and everything else just seemed boring... Besides, you could tell me anything important afterwards./'
Gabriel tried to find any flaw with her arguments, but could not. "Figures. How would a Blizzwing not be good at cold hard logic?" Yes, she could have stayed with him, but she'd done him a kindness by not doing so. Once he'd held himself during the meeting with the Goblins before the Will, she'd left, limiting his ability to draw on her for stability. Which is why he hadn't been as cold after that. Still, she was his Familiar, and that meant he would naturally colder than even his real self had been. Though perhaps her new phoenix powers might offset that a bit.
-'/ Speaking of that, how are you doing with those powers? Are they giving you a hard time?/'
-'/ At first, they were. You have no idea how weird it was for me. I don't think an unbound Blizzwing could have really learned as easily as I did. I already have a source of warmth, you. So the Phoenix powers just had to be associated with you. And yes, that means we'll connect directly through Hedwig's gifts, and that will reduce my permanents effects on how cold you are. Unfortunately for you at first, it'll also mean our affectionate gestures will likely be the very similar to, if not exactly the same as, your and Hedwig's affectionate gestures. So that might be somewhat hard for you, at least at first./'
Gabriel tried not to think about it.
-'/ Do you need anything from the Magical Menagerie? Actually, I just realized I know next to nothing about your kind. What do you eat, where do you sleep? You do sleep, right? ... And eat?/'
Skyfjord laughed like a maniac, wherever she was... Gabriel realized he also didn't know where she was. Was there a distance limit for the mental chat the familiar bond gave them?
-'/ You don't need to get anything, relax... I eat mostly fish, but I like to hunt game sometimes. I ate a delicious stag last week. He was easy to kill, though. Once I hunted a bear. He wasn't very tasty, but at least he was a decent challenge without my powers. And yes, I do sleep, about two hours per night, every two nights. My kind have a highly efficient nutritive process, and we don't need as much brain rest as you humans do. Your minds are horribly disorganized, you poor things. And I sleep in a nest of ice and twigs that I make on high rocks, cliffs or trees. Satisfied, Mr. apprentice zoologist?/'
Gabriel laughed. He couldn't help it. He was starting to really like this bird... But he was also wasting daylight.
Okay, no Magical Menagerie at all. The apothecary seemed pointless at that point, so maybe that was it, clothes, trunk and books. No, there was something else. What was he forgetting?
STUPID! His wand had burned to ashes in his own hand, how could he have forgotten that? He should be upset about it, not dismissive!
But then again, that wand would have been useless against Voldemort. And really, it wasn't his wand, it wasn't Gabriel's. It had been Harry's, which meant it had never been truly his, because it belonged to a person who never existed. Maybe he should go to Ollivander's for a new wand. He wasn't sure he wanted to use Dumbledore's. He wasn't going to give it back, that was for sure, but he didn't really want to use it. It responded to him, and he knew it had chosen him over the Headmaster. But he hadn't chosen it. The wand just didn't feel quite right.
"That settles it, then. First order of business, trunk, to carry everything else. Clothes after that, and books after that. Finally, Ollivander's. I might have to tell him who I was... Because he might just figure it out on his own.
Just as he set out from Gringotts to go about his shopping spree, an unexpected factor entered into play quite suddenly. And its name was Fleur.
Gabriel had just started walking when he felt someone almost tackle him and heard a familiar voice whisper:
-'Arry James Potterr, explain yourzelf zis instant!

Gabriel now sat next to Fortescue's in front of a very irritated half-Veela. Which was a situation he had hoped he would never be in, but given his usual luck, he ought to have known he would get himself into one sooner or later.
No longer speaking with a French accent, which only came out when she was extremely stressed since she wasn't as inexperienced with the English language as she had been as a Triwizard Champion, Fleur asked with a clearly barely controlled fury:
-Harry, would you like to tell me why Sirius was the one to tell me you weren't dead, and in a letter at that? Even better, would you like to tell me why you're pretending to be dead in the first place?
-Harry James Potter is dead.
-Then how are you standing in front of me?
-Easy. My name is not Harry James Potter. My name is Gabriel Myrrdin.
Fleur blinked.
-Your parents weren't your parents?
-Let's forget that verbal oxymoron for a second. Yes, James and Lily were my parents. No, I had no siblings. Yes, Harry James Potter is dead. Yes, he existed. Well, he did and didn't, but let's not get into that just yet.
Fleur was confused.
-What does all that even mean?
Gabriel sighed.
-Harry James Potter is dead. He has been reborn. I am Gabriel Myrrdin, Heir to the House of Potter. Well, actually Peverell, but I can take care of that later.
Fleur's jaw hung open. She'd heard of magical rebirth, but it was extremely rare, and it involved a number of special circumstance and incredibly old and powerful magic. It was also, due to its rarity but also undeniable legitimacy, an enormous web of loopholes in magical law all over the world. Harry was dead... In front of her stood Gabriel Myrrdin. This she could not deny.
-Fleur, do you remember when I told you about my mask?
Fleur nodded absently. Yes, she remembered. It was one of the things that had always fascinated Fleur when it came to Harry. His true self was someone only she and maybe Sirius had ever seen. And she deeply treasured that. She liked True Harry far more than Fake Harry. True Harry had saved her sister. True Harry understood her like no one except her own mother. Maybe better than her. And True Harry was her best friend of a year and a half, and her secret crush.
-Fleur, Harry James Potter is dead. Harry was the mask. My true self is standing right in front of you , wearing the name that was always truly his, reborn away from the shackles many tried to place on him. It's me, not some new persona. You know me. You know me. No one else does, Fleur. Sirius knows a lot, but you are the only one who really knows me apart from my Familiar.
Fleur was touched deep inside her heart hearing this. But she suddenly frowned.
-I thought Hedwig wasn't your Familiar.
Harry... no, Gabriel, she corrected, cringed at the mention of his owl's name. This is when she realized that she did know him. Because she knew exactly what that meant. In a low voice she asked:
-She's dead, isn't she?
Gabriel answered in a hoarse whisper.
-Yeah... Yeah, she is. She died this morning, poisoned by my relatives under Dumbledore's orders.
Fleur felt a great anger rise within her. Veela were creatures of air and fire. Half-Veela were at once Veela and human. Which meant that she was every bit as much Veela as any pure one, and every bit as much a witch as a pure blood or a Muggleborn. That in turn meant that when she was angry, she would start to turn avian, and things around her would start to float and burn, and when she was royally pissed, she had once caused things to explode.
Gabriel knew all this very well. After all, he had been there for quite a few explosions. And it was very inconvenient when not in a private setting.
-Fleur, calm down. I'm far more enraged than you are, but making a spectacle won't help me. My wrath will hit cold. So just leave it to me, OK?
The young woman calmed down, slowly controlling her breathing and heartbeat.
In an attempt to distract her, Gabriel decided to tease her:
-Now that we've established I'm me, perhaps we should address the fact that you still owe me a date, no?
Fleur smirked at him. She knew exactly what he was doing, but she went along with it. Besides, he was playing right into her hands.
-Well, it won't happen with you dressed like that. Honestly, you don't even need to get me angry, because you're already making a sad spectacle of yourself with those clothes!
-I was planning to go shopping for an entire wardrobe. You see, I'm afraid I have no more than the clothes on my back.
Fleur smirked at him with fire in her eyes and Gabriel realized he had put his foot in his mouth worse than Weasley and Granger multiplied could have managed. He gulped as Fleur dragged him to Madam Malkins' Robes for All Occasions.

"Well, that's an hour of my life I'm never getting back." Gabriel thought as he left Madam Malkins'. Fleur had chosen the wardrobe for him. Which was probably for the best, but a no less hellish experience for it. Fortunately, it was over. He had to admit that he liked Fleur's taste, and she had kept to his favorite colors: black, silver, blue and green. She'd thrown a dark red or two in there too, though. Not that it looked bad, hell, she'd done a far better job than he would have done and he freely admitted it. She'd gotten him to tell her where the Muggle clothing shop was, and they'd started with that. She'd kept to black slacks or jeans, at his insistence, along with t-shirts in the aforementioned colors and leather jackets in black. Also, a couple pairs of trainers. As for robes, he knew the colors, but that was about all he understood of his Wizarding wardrobe. He preferred Muggle clothing, anyway. More comfortable for sure, and Gabriel preferred the way he looked with his new Muggle clothes, including finger-less black gloves he'd insisted on buying, despite Fleur's impatience on getting to other things.
They'd swung by the trunk shop earlier, where he'd bought a trunk that housed ten different compartments, each the size of a walk-in closet. The trunk was black with silver fastenings, and had a weightless charm, a shrinking charm and an indestructibility charm. The lock was configured to only open to him, bound by his blood. And it still only open to a password, which was a phrase that would only make sense to him. "The Hunter is Forged in the Depths of the Storm." Moreover, it had to be said in bird-tongue.
So he was pretty sure is stuff would be safe.
Gabriel was considering postponing the book hunt, considering it was past five in the evening. There probably wasn't enough time. But there probably was time to stop at Ollivander's. Assuming he could hurry up. Last time he'd shopped for a wand there, he'd gotten about two hundred wands before finding the right one. Now that he thought about it, the way it worked seemed kind of fishy. Neville used his father's wand. Didn't the wand choose the wizard? Then again, given what he'd heard concerning Augusta Longbottom, maybe she was in denial. It might explain Neville's difficulties with practical magic. And It just seemed a horribly inefficient way of finding a wand. Random attempts, really? Old Garrick just made wands with random traits and hoped they'd choose someone? That didn't seem very realistic.
Fleur said she'd go look at some books in the french section of Flourish and Blott's while Gabriel went to the wand shop. Just as well, he suspected it might take a while.
As he walked in to the shop, he looked out for the shop's owner. The man had an uncanny talent for appearing out of nowhere without a sound, which was really unnerving. Sure enough, there he was, trying to glide into the entrance hall without being too noisy.
-Hello, Mr. Ollivander. It's been a while.
The old wand salesman looked like the proverbial deer in the headlights for a couple of seconds, before he chuckled and responded:
-Not many people can catch me sneaking up on them, young man. And I assure you I'd remember one of them, much like I remember everything else. Eidetic memory, you see. Yet I don't believe I've ever seen you before.
Ah, so that's how he identified everyone and remembered every wand! It made sense, he really should have thought of it before.
-My name is Gabriel Myrrdin, Mr. Ollivander. Tell me, what would cause a wand to burst into flames upon the casting of a simple spell?
The old man immediately tensed and took on a look of fascination and focus.
-If one who had not been chosen by the wand tried to channel too much power through it, then yes, that could happen. But that would be an incredible amount of power. There is a fine line between having that level of power and not being able to use a wand at all.
Now, Gabriel was just confused.
-Pardon my ignorance, but I'm afraid I don't understand what you mean.
-You see, wands, fascinating as they are, have a limit in how much power they can channel. For the average wizard, this will never be a problem. For exceptionally powerful ones, it can be an inconvenience of variable relevance. For the rare few gifted with truly awesome reservoirs of raw magical power, or with incredibly large magical cores, if you will; a wand just won't do. Wands are relatively new in comparison with magic itself. They came to be around... Oh, seven hundred years ago. You see, before wands there was wandless magic, that few could perform and almost none master, and staffs. Staffs require more power, but also have a far higher threshold. They do not drain more power, you see, but will not work without a minimum core size. Due to wands our numbers increased exponentially. The Ministry banned staffs centuries ago. They resented that level of power, I'm afraid. Of course, this has only worked because until now they haven't had anyone at Hogwarts too powerful to use a wand.
Gabriel was slightly dumbfounded. He now knew that he probably wouldn't be able to use a wand, but what could he do about it?
Well... Ollivander claimed his family tradition in wand making was over two dozen centuries old, didn't he? So most of his ancestors had made staffs, not wands. Plus he sounded unhappy about the ban on staffs.
-Mr. Ollivander, you wouldn't be knowledgeable in the art of making a... Staff, would you?
Garrick gave him a smirk.
-That would depend entirely on who was asking.
-The person to whom you sold a phoenix tail feather and holly wand five years ago... Well, that person is dead, but he is reborn.
Garrick seemed stunned for a minute, before nodding.
-Well, then Mr. Myrrdin. I do believe I owe you a reimbursement for the fate of my work, and for pushing on you the sister of the wand from whence the death of you family came. I suggest you follow me out back.
Gabriel walked with the old man, uncertain on what he would find in the back of the store.

A table, several tools and nothing but shelves.
And shelves.
And shelves of nothing but wood and vials and crystals and gems of all sorts and sizes. It was impressive, quite frankly.
-Mr. Myrrdin (as I imagine you prefer, since you did not present yourself as Harry Potter), this will not be similar in the least to what you went through when you purchase your wand some time ago. Back then, I sold you a wand. Now, I'm about to make you a staff. There's a substantial difference. Before, I was just trying to see if a standard size of shoe fit on your foot, so to speak. Now, like a General of old, I will tailor you a pair of boots. What I mean by this is that you will be far more active now. Also, you will be part of the actual process of making the staff. But first, there are a couple things we need to do. First off, we need to discuss whether you are fully human, whether you have a Familiar, do you mind submitting to a sort of test so I can have an estimation of your core size, etc. I assure you, none of this information will leave the shop. It is standard procedure for me to swear an oath that prevents me from divulging it. That also means I require your truthfulness, as the answers are extremely important.
He then proceeded to give his oath. The lights that surrounded both of them made it quite clear that the oath had taken place. That reassured Gabriel, but given his status, he was worried whether Ollivander would be able to cater to his rather unique circumstances.
-Well, I'm bounded with a female lightning aligned Blizzwing with Phoenix abilities gifted by a dying newborn White Phoenix. I'm half Magus (repressed), and half Lycanpire (dormant). And I will take the test, though I'm curious about the procedure itself.
Garrick's face alone made the visit worth it, even if he still worried he wouldn't get what he wanted here.
-Well... Mr. Myrrdin, you are definitely unique, but I do believe I can help you. I was wondering when I would use some of these things. Also, please call your Familiar. We're going to need her. This will be my family's masterpiece, I suspect. Truthfully, Mr. Myrrdin, I just might give it to you for free just for the opportunity.
Gabriel smiled. Coming here might have been an excellent decision after all.
-Mr. Ollivander, would my staff come with the Trace?
-Unless you're a magical genius who has figured out how to do such a thing, despite the fact that the Trace was invented long after the illegalization of staffs, I'm afraid not.
Well... That was a relief. Not like the Ministry would be able to do anything about it once he went to Hogwarts. Next summer, the Trace would be gone anyway, so there wasn't really a good argument that could be made. And he expected to have a safe haven from his jailers before Hogwarts. Assuming he even bothered to go.
WOW... Where had that thought come from? He needed to finish his magical education! ... But did he?
After all, what he really needed was a Muggle education, and most of his affinities would be wasted at Hogwarts... And apart from Neville, no one he really cared about would even be there, so really, why should he put himself under Dumbledore's thumb? He could probably just study at home (wherever that would be) and take the exams at the Ministry, no problems. And for enough Galleons, no questions asked.
But that was a month away, and he had to focus on the here and now, on the making of his staff. In fact, Ollivander had already started is explanation of what he would have to do for the test.

-I will give you an athame, which you will use to drop some blood into a cup I'll also give you in a second. After that it's up to me, but it'll be quick.

Gabriel took up the athame and the cup and sliced across his open palm, before closing his hand and letting the blood flow into the cup. The wand maker soon took it and waved his wand over his customer's blood. The results must have been surprising, because he fell of his chair in surprise.

-I take it my results were abnormal?

-Mr. Myrrdin, that's like saying He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is feared. Your core makes the cores of everyone in this alley combined seem tiny. You've the raw power of a minor god flowing within you, and that complicates matters.

Garrick got up and bid Gabriel follow him to the shelves. As they walked, the old man addressed him:

-Mr. Myrrdin, concerning some of the things I have here... I'm old. I'm two centuries old, in fact, give or take a half dozen years. My children are dead, most of my grandchildren are either dead or grandparents themselves and the last I heard of one of them it was the son of one of my youngest daughters about a year ago. He'd just become the french Minister of Magic. I sold Dumbledore's wand to him when I already had grown children. Hell, professor Binns is... well was my son, working as a professor at Hogwarts when Dumbledore started school. So, as I said, if I am anything, it is old. Yet some of the things here are so much older than me, that my grandfather, who was in Griffindor House and caught Nicolas of Mimsy Porpington sneaking around Hogwarts more than once when the now ghost was a first year and my grandfather was prefect, wasn't even born when they made their way to this shop. They probably predate wands, and no Ollivander has ever managed to use them in wands. Most likely because they were meant for staffs. Now, do you have any wand with you?

Gabriel was still recovering from the speech. Ollivander's family was everywhere! And what he'd just said about his Minister grandson... Was this man Fleur's great grandfather? Then he realized he was waiting for a answer.

-Yes, I do, actually. The spell I used that made my old wand burst into flames was the disarming charm, with which I disarmed Dumbledore. Here's his wand. I think she chose me as her new master, but I wouldn't want to use her, she just doesn't feel right.

Ollivander stared at the wand, stunned. Then he quickly took it from is customer's hand and cast diagnostic charms one after the other. Then he gave a deep sigh and turned to Gabriel once again.

-Mr. Myrrdin, I'm not sure how Dumbledore got his, but you're looking at the Elder Wand, the Death-stick itself. 13 inches, White Elder Wood and a core of Thestral Hair bathed in Dementor blood. This wand wouldn't help you, I'm afraid, since even though it chose you, you will never be able to use a wand again. However... We might be able to use it all the same. I could fuse the wood with the rest of you staff, and make the core a part of the staff's core. Merlin knows it was already going to be a complex one anyway.

And with that, Ollivander opened a door at the end of the corridor, where there was a small cupboard, with intricate shelves where Ollivander apparently kept certain gems, cores and woods.

-Now, Mr. Myrrdin, your core is titanic. It will beyond a doubt push the limits of a regular staff, which is why your staff must be legendary in its might. To achieve that, the staff itself will have to be crafted from the strongest and more conductive materials that I know. This means that I will have to grind unicorn horn, dragon bone and an alloy of elements that Muggles have as of yet not discovered that is table, but incredibly heavy. Also, we will have to pick a wood from my best logs. The wood must be ground into the mix as well. Then we will forge it into a staff. It will be unlike anything you've ever seen, I warn you. And we haven't even gone into the matter of cores yet.

Gabriel was reeling. This was going to be more complicated than he thought, but he knew it had to be done.

-Mr. Myrrdin, the Ollivander family is descended from the first Magus. And since him, every Magus has come to us when his time was near, so that when he died, heartstrings would be collected from him. Then, we used our blood and their blood to kink the new heartstring to the first one from our ancestor. This was meant for you, Mr. Myrrdin. But it's not all. Your ancestor (I assume), Alucard, came to us before he died of his own volition. He gave us his hair, bathed in a mixture of his blood and is ground fur and canine. That is another component of your core. And finally, a lightning feather from your Familiar covered in her ash and frost. We bind all that with the Elder Wand's core through the use of your blood, and send it into a hole to spread throughout the staff, after which we seal the staff. Also, before this we will have to carve runes into the staff, which we will activate with your blood as we send the core into it. The process will be long, morose and complex, not to mention very exhausting for you due to the blood loss. Now, that being said, do you still want to proceed? It will take a couple of days. You can sleep here, if you wish. Is there anyone waiting for you?

Gabriel was... he didn't even know what to call it. Shocked didn't cut it, and neither gobsmacked, dumbfounded or any other term he could think of. "Stop trying to define your irrelevant present condition and start considering his proposal, you fool!"."... Shut up."

-Yes, I want to go through with it, and I appreciate the offer of sleeping here, I think I'll take you up on it. Also, I do have someone waiting for me, your great granddaughter.

Garrick spluttered. His customer laughed like a maniac at the situation, until Ollivander shot him a pointed glare. Which was pointedly ignored, except for the fact that it made Myrrdin laugh harder.

-Would you like to meet her? - Gabriel asked.

The old wand maker looked at the young man in front of him in shock. Then he smiled and said:

-Actually, yes I would. In fact, I'd love to.

And that is how Gabriel found himself having a discussion concerning Fleur with her great grandfather instead of her father, on while taking him to meet her. Not the most pleasant experience, perhaps, but Gabriel felt that mostly his fault. Ollivander was completely cool with whatever answer he got that wasn't insulting to his descendant. But then again that made sense. The man had had several kids, who by now had their own grandchildren, some of which already had kids of their own. He'd left the overprotective phase behind over a century earlier.

They found one those without kids browsing the french section of the premier bookstore of Diagon Alley, so absorbed by what she was doing she didn't even notice them at first, much to her chagrin and embarrassment. They quickly made their way to the Leaky Cauldron for a butter beer, where Gabriel made the introductions. Fleur's face was worth the wait. He wish he had a Muggle camera to record it for posterity, but a pensive would have to suffice later.

After what was a very enlightening conversation or Fleur concerning her origins, Ollivander asked whether she had a career planned already.

-Actually, I've been panicking all summer, because I don't know what I want to do now that I'm out of Beauxbatons. Why do you ask?

-Well, I have no surviving children. And most of my grandchildren are either dead or elderly themselves. But I still don't have an apprentice. Which is unfortunate, because I'm not sure I can make it for twenty more years. I need to pass on the mantle, child. And for obvious reasons, I want to do it with someone of direct Ollivander descent. So my proposal is: do you want to become my Apprentice? It might take a few years, but you would eventually become a Master Wand-maker. I'm sure of it, I can sense the potential in you. And you would be my Heir. 'Tis the tradition in the House of Ollivander.

Fleur and Gabriel were both gobsmacked. Neither of them had even in their strangest thoughts expected that!

-You don't have to answer now! I'm aware of how sudden this is and that it is not a decision to make lightly. Think about it. In a couple of days Gabriel's staff will be complete. Maybe by then you'll know whether it's a yes or a no.

And on that note, he pulled Gabriel apart and led him to the door that led to Diagon Alley.

-Gabriel, tomorrow I want to take you to a friend of mine. His shop is located between mine and Knockturn Alley. He sells books. Well, technically, he sells knowledge. You see, he's a Bard. Probably the only one left in the Isles, and one of a handful left in the world. Bards are seekers of knowledge. It is their life's mission to acquire, protect and provide knowledge. I think your best option if you want to explore those affinities of yours, is to become his Apprentice. And don't look so shocked, when you don't hid your magical presence people like me and Dumbledore and You-Know-Who can easily see that you have many affinities. For what, I don't know. But I know they're there, and that's more than you want me to know. Anyway, do you want me to introduce you?

Gabriel was really getting tired of going around with dropped jaw. It just looked stupid.

-Sure... Yes, it'd be much appreciated.

And then Ollivander dragged him to say goodbye to Fleur and go back to his shop. After all, the next day would be a busy one and they would need their sleep.

A/N: Well, one more chapter. Do tell me what you think. I'd never seen any fic create a connection between Fleur and Ollivander, and it just came to me. Also, I'm still trying to find the fic I got the inspiration for the bard concept from. I don't remember the name, but it was awesome. Far better than mine, if you ask me.

Sorry for getting a little distracted from shopping, but personally I feel that the chapter was better off because of it.

Also, WOW! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! Over 100 followers? That's great! And almost 4000 thousand views… Now if only you would review more.

I might upload during the weekend, but it's not very likely. Gabriel's staff won't be complete until the chapter after the next one, but you will get to meet the Bard and Fleur's newfound Familiar. Maybe you'll recognize him… Also, on a related note, Dumbles might make an appearance next chapter. Also, Fleur will probably get a new wand, but who will make it?

Thank you for reading, please review. Idovelicus over and out.