Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own Harry Potter. Harry Potter and all associated characters and trademarks are the property of J. K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Entertainment.
CHAPTER FIVE: VLADIMIR ECTORIUS
"One must be cunning and wicked in this world."
-Leo Tolstoy
Hidden in a corner of Knockturn Alley stood the oldest magical shop in all of the British Isles. Ectorius' Custom Wands was an unassuming, single-story wooden building barely held together by bent nails. A cracked door was held up by rusty iron hinges. To either side of the door was a single window made of cloudy yellowed glass.
Due to its derelict appearance, the building was nicknamed "the Hovel". Many a patron, upon passing the rickety shack, had often remarked that it ought to be demolished. But curiously, it never was.
Lyra carefully scanned the street of Knockturn Alley. Lord Sly— no, her father, had described it as a place where anything less than legal could be bought— or sold. Because of that, he had insisted that they both wear heavy black hooded robes that completely obscured any features.
She saw a hag selling a tray full of human fingernails which looked like they had been ripped out rather… messily.
Next to her was a stall advertising "POISONS: THE FINEST TOXINS, VENOMS, AND EXTRACTS, ALL 25% OFF!"
Diagon Alley had been fascinating, but this place somehow… appealed to her sensibilities far more.
After they passed the poison stall, her father quickened his pace, forcing Lyra to look away from the various shops, stores, and stalls. After about five minutes of walking, they reached a building that looked like a sneeze could blow it over. It looked completely pathetic. But appearances could be deceiving. Lyra knew that better than anyone.
Her father opened the door. Curiously, despite the copious rust, the hinges appeared to be well-oiled, opening without a sound. Inside she saw a small cavern. The walls were off-white chalk, hewn into a single smooth chamber. She looked around. There was nothing there but bare rock.
But to her right were a set of stone stairs, smoothly carved out of the rock. Lyra and Marvolo both walked down the stairs without a sound. This went on for ages until they reached a tunnel carved out of the rock. It heavily resembled the passages at Gringotts.
As if reading her mind, Marvolo said, "The Ectorius family uses old Gringotts tunnels to hide their shops in many areas. In return, the Goblins frequently receive certain contraband from the Ectorius' that are usually… less than legal."
Like Gringotts, a pair of steel rails were set into the tunnel. Her father raised his wand, and a wooden cart identical to those of the goblins came racing up, before stopping in front of them.
One long ride later, they stood in front of a pair of huge silver doors. They were intricately engraved in gold and copper with designs of dragons. phoenixes, unicorns, and various other creatures Lyra could not name.
Her companion raised his wand, and the doors slid open without a sound.
When she saw what was inside, Lyra stifled a gasp.
It was the most magnificent room she had ever seen. Only slightly smaller than the entrance hall of Gringotts, it was entirely made of polished black marble that gleamed. Hundreds of runes and symbols were engraved on the floor in moonstone and opal. Black marble holders engraved with silver held torches of blue fire, which filled the chamber with a slightly unsettling light. Carved into
the walls were dozens of small shelves, which held hundreds of various boxes, vials, and jars.
Standing inside was a single man. He was tall, with sallow skin, a sharp, straight nose, and yellow eyes, like a hawk. A curtain of iron-grey hair streaked with silver fell to the nape of his neck. He looked vaguely Russian.
The two men simultaneously nodded their heads in acknowledgment. Marvolo spoke first.
"Vladimir."
"Marvolo," replied Vladimir.
His eyes drifted over to Lyra, asking Marvolo a silent question.
"This is my adopted Heiress, Lady Lya Peverell-Le Fay," Lyra's father said. "Lyra, this is Vladimir Ectorius, Scion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Ectorius. His family has been handcrafting wands for over a millennium."
Vladimir Ectorius gave a proud smile. "House Ectorius is the oldest family of wandcrafters on the planet. Don't get me started on Ollivander! Since 382 B.C., my ass! And Gregorovich, that…"
Marvolo gave a deliberate cough.
Ectorius straightened, slightly embarrassed. "Anyway, Lady Peverell-Le Fay, unlike other, inferior wancrafters, House Ectorius creates custom wands precisely tailored for each individual. You must release your magic. It will select the best woods and cores for your two wands."
Lyra gave a bemused expression, before shrugging.
She sat cross-legged on the floor and tightly shut her eyes.
Lyra had no idea how to release her magic, so she simply focused on her emotions. Whenever she had previously used magic, she had relied on her emotions, pain, rage, jealousy, to fuel her magic. So she focused on her emotions now. But she didn't limit herself to agony and fury. Lyra focused on her riotous elation at being freed from the orphanage and the feeling of finally being wanted by someone.
As her magic built up, Lyra felt it beginning to tingle. A tight sensation started to cramp in her core, before extending to every part of her body.
Finally, Lyra couldn't contain it anymore. In a single massive wave, a huge burst of magic exploded outwards from Lyra as her emerald eyes flashed open. The runes on the floors glowed white. Her father and Vladimir Ectorius both staggered, barely managing to remain standing. The blue flames swayed and flickered. Even the cavern floor began to shake.
After the initial eruption, her magic became less explosive. Invisible tendrils plucked a dozen containers from the marble shelves and deposited them neatly in two separate piles in front of the wandcrafter, who's eyes widened upon seeing the packages.
"Interesting, highly interesting," he said, causing Lyra's father to raise an eyebrow. "I shall need some of her blood to bind the cores together."
Lyra tilted her head in a silent question to her father. Hergave a slight nod, and Lyra promptly unsheathed Zoe's dagger and ran it across her left palm. Crimson blood began to drip from the gash and into a small glass vial which her father had conjured. After it was full, Lyra sent a pulse of her raw magic into her hand, instantly healing it. Meanwhile, her father corked the vial and handed it to the wandmaker, who promptly left through a hidden door in the marble cave.
Soon, Lyra fell asleep. Her head rested against her father's chest as she slumbered.
Throughout his ninety-seven years of life, Lord Vladimir Ectorius had undergone a variety of dangerous, confusing, and downright odd experiences.
In the Caucasus Mountains, he had encountered a giant with dwarfism,who stood at a measly (for a giant) four metres. In addition, the giant (which was called Urog) was a pacifist, entirely vegetarian and subsisted on a diet of various stems, roots, and tubers.
In Berlin, he had been caught in a brutal tavern brawl which had caused the deaths of seventeen individuals and left four others brutally maimed. He had ended up with a lacerated femoral artery, which he had hastily cauterised with a stolen clothes-iron.
In the Sahara, he had been caught in a magical trap while searching for Phoenix feathers. He had nearly drowned in a pool of sand, a pit of scorpions, and a lake of acid before managing to escape.
But when the one of the most feared Dark Lords of all time came into his store with a young girl in tow, he thought that he might be about to experience the weirdest event yet.
Of course, said girl happened to be the Lady of two of the most infamous Magical Houses of all time, who said Dark Lord had adopted as his daughter!
Vladimir was actually on excellent terms with the Dark Lord. He had briefly taken him as his apprentice in the '50s and taught him a great deal about wandlore, as well as further upgrading his wand, which Marvolo had naively purchased from that fool Ollivander. They had become so well-acquainted that they were on a first-name basis (he addressed the Dark Lord as Marvolo, as he despised being called by his first name). In return, all of the Dark Lord's followers and allies purchased their wands either from him or his cousins Mikhail or Lyudmila, who were based in Moscow and Berlin, respectively.
In truth, he had left the Ritual Cavern so hastily because he had not wanted either individual to see his true surprise. Each wand had three woods and cores, something only present in the Dark Lord's wand. It was true that many powerful wizards and witches had wands with dual woods or cores, and often both, but three was unheard of!
Not only that, but each of her wands had entirely different components. Not even Marvolo had completely unique wands!
Lyra Peverell-Le Fay had the potential to be the most powerful witch since Morgana!
He walked through a stone corridor before he reached another set of silver doors. These were smaller. With a wave of his hand, he opened the doors, revealing another black marble chamber engraved with even more runes than the Ritual Cavern. Inside was a simple ebony desk and chair and nothing else. Vladimir placed the thirteen containers onto the desk and sat down in the wooden chair.
He gingerly opened the first group of containers.
Blackthorn. A wood well-matched to the most ferocious warriors.
Ebony. Suited the best for the resolute and determined.
African blackwood. Never used by most wandcrafters, but meant only for those of great emotional and mental strength.
The three cores all came from magical creatures and beings that were some of the most dangerous in the world.
A heartstring from a ferocious Nundu which was among the largest ever recorded. It was known to have killed over two hundred wizards and witches, along with thousands of Muggles, before finally being killed in 1946.
Horn shavings from a horned serpent. They had been collected by his great-great-great-great-great-grandfather's closest friend, Nather Gaunt and were from the same Horned Serpent that had given one of the cores for the wand of Isolt Sayre.
Finally, a vial of vampire venom. He had collected it himself from the corpse of a two-century-year-old vampire he had killed back in 1932.
The other wand was even more remarkable.
Like the first, it had three woods and cores.
Aspen. A wood best for martial magic and suited to determined fighters and revolutionaries.
Yew. An infamous wood with a dark reputation and an affinity for the talented and ferocious.
Elder. Rare to a near-mythical extent, nearly impossible to master, and suited for individuals with a special destiny.
The trio of cores were equally extraordinary.
First was a single hair plucked from the tail of a massive wild thestral by his great-great-grandmother Antonija Ectorius.
Next was a vial of basilisk venom that had been gifted to his ancestor Berislav Ectorius by Salazar Slytherin himself.
Finally was a single phoenix feather. He had stolen it from Garrick Ollivander a few years ago in an act of sheer pettiness. Ollivander had been distraught, for the feather came from Dumbledore's familiar, Fawkes, and it was the twin to the one in Marvolo's wand. Dumbledore had intended it for his precious Golden Boy, Alexander Potter. In Dumbledore's idiotic opinion, Potter being the "Boy-Who-Lived" would guarantee that a wand utilising that specific feather would suit Potter the best. In Vladimir's opinion, the feather would be far better suited for Marvolo's chosen heir than his so-called vanquisher.
After he carefully laid out the materials, Vladimir began to craft the wand. He took out his own wand (elm and fir, with a core of dragon heartstring and phoenix feather) and vanished all the containers except for the vial blood. He began to chant in Latin. Every rune on the floor began to shine brightly. The woods and cores began to lift up in the air. Each made an independent circular pattern. Soon, two distinct axes of rotation began to emerge. The hairs, heartstrings, horns, venoms, and blood began to twist around each other. Each wood began to warp and tightly wrap around the cores.
The process went down for hours, until, finally, both wands were complete.
Marvolo watched as Vladimir emerged from the door. He quickly sent a pulse of magic at Lyra, instantly waking her up. Her eyes were alert and wart.
In each hand he held a wand. Somehow, they were both identical and opposites in any way.
The first was as dark as night. Runes and intricate symbols were engraved throughout the length. Slightly different shades of wood curved around, forming smooth rippled patterns. It was a work of art.
The second was identical in every way, except instead of jet black, it was bone white.
Lyra extended her hands.
"Blackthorn, ebony, and African blackwood with a core of Nundu heartstring, horn shavings from a Horned Serpent, and crystalized vampire venom. 12 ½ inches, highly skilled in all branches of magic, especially the Mind Arts, combat magic and the Dark Arts."
"Aspen, yew and elder with a core of Thestral tail hair, Basilisk venom, and Phoenix tail feather. 12 ½ inches, again, highly skilled in all branches of magic, particularly Elemental magic, Parselmagic, and Necromancy."
When the wands met his Heiress' hands, there was an explosion of raw magic. A powerful shockwave shook the entire cave and a storm of smoke and lightning burst from each wand-tip, creating scorch-marks on the marble.
After the storm ceased, Vladimir Ectorius had a look of triumph on his face, which was quickly replaced by a look of apprehension.
"Please transfer 2000 galleons to my vault. Would you like a wand holster?"
Marvolo shook his head.
The wandmaker then gave a dejected sigh. "I would prefer complete deniability, Marvolo," he said. "You know what to do."
He nodded slightly in response.
Then, fast as in asp, he struck. His wand was held directly to Vladimir's temple. The wandmaker made no move to resist.
"Obliviate!"
The wandmaker staggered, and was promptly rendered unconscious on the floor.
In a flash, the two visitors were gone.
Several hours, and one Apparition later, they were standing outside Slytherin Castle. It was time for Lyra to meet the Death Eaters.
Author's Notes: Vladimir Ectorius and the Ectorius Family are OCs created and owned by me.