Chapter 20: In ultimata

Aldebaran awkwardly balanced a third shoe box over the ones he'd already been holding onto, but before he could do anything more, Nashira – the girl who looked so much like his oldest sister – stole them from him and put them on the counter.

"You're going to fall over, that pile is taller than you right now."

It wasn't exactly true – the highest box did go higher than Aldebaran himself, but it wasn't as if the pile started on the floor, was it? Still, the young boy didn't say anything and nodded gratefully at the older girl.

She took a step back to let their great-grandfather pass, discreetly dragging the boy out of the way.

While Arcturus Black paid for everything, Aldebaran looked over at the old witch who'd come with their little group.

Apparently she was – the... friend? More? He wasn't certain – connected to Arcturus' deceased sister in some meaningful way, and the old wizard hadn't seen her in a while, either. She'd come to the manor a bit earlier than the agreed time, and had listened attentively as the children's great-grandfather had presented them to her. She'd been the one who'd insisted on coming with the group who'd go to Ollivanders, before Arcturus could even tell her that it was already the plan.

She was speaking with Orion and Shivansh, now. Aldebaran wandered back there – with the other, younger boys. They were roughly the same age, he knew – hence why they were in that group. First years in September – hopefully – no actual wand yet.

Not like the two others.

Nashira was fifteen, and apparently she didn't have a wand. Aldebaran wasn't sure of why exactly. The girl could use her hand jewelry as a magical medium, but there was no one here who could teach her such ways – if she wanted to continue using it, she'd have to teach herself. For Hogwarts, she'd need a wand.

Antares... simply hadn't had his wand with him, when they'd all gotten thrown here.

So, the five of them were to head to Ollivanders as soon as dad-not-dad got back from work. In the meantime, they'd gotten shoes with Arcturus' money – and Theresa Rosier's help.

The old woman was telling Orion and Shivansh about the wandmaker, apparently.

"...went to school with him, you know. Garrick is a couple of years younger than me. Arcturus was there too, of course, but he was already a sixth year by the time Garrick started school, he had no time for little kids like us!"

Orion glanced through the shoe shop's window – somewhere down the road was Ollivanders, Aldebaran could remember that from the times they'd gone and gotten his siblings' wands. Both Shivansh and Orion had an older sibling. They'd likely gone there before too.

"Is... Is it true that Garrick Ollivander only uses three wand cores?"

...Or not?

Orion had been the one to ask, and that was the kind of thing you did deduce easily when the thirteenth proposed wand was still nothing else but unicorn hair, dragon heartstring or phoenix feather.

It didn't make much sense, though. Harfang had a wand – if he didn't, he'd be there with them – and everyone who could pay and knew enough went to Ollivanders for their wands. Kiddell's Wonderful Wands, on the other end of Diagon Alley, specialized in second-hand wands – for people who wanted another one just in case, like with glasses, or who'd broken their wands and couldn't afford a good new one quite yet – and cheaper options for daily use – cooking wands, for example.

Ms Rosier huffed a laugh:

"Ah, Garrick is a bit elitist like that, yes. He still makes custom orders with other cores, on occasion, but you'd have to go through half the store before he'd consider taking out his most unusual wands."

This time, it was Shivansh who spoke up.

"Da... Sirius has a thestral hair in his. Did he get it custom-ordered, then?"

The old woman blinked once and threw a glance at Arcturus, still busy at the counter.

"I... I think he was a difficult customer? If I remember what your great-grandfather told me back then... I think Sirius kept having odd results with all the wands Garrick had him try, and eventually he went and looked in the back, where he keeps the weird wands."

"What's a custom order, anyway? I mean... Isn't it the wand that chooses the wizard, or something like that?"

Ms Rosier's upper lip twitched as she turned around to look at Antares, who'd wandered over.

"Of course, dear, that's true, but if you pay a lot of galleons and are willing to go through hours of matching before the materials are even put together, you can get a.. tailored wand, I suppose. Of course, the Ministry doesn't cover that kind of wand, so you pay it full price, materials and supplementary work."

The boys shared a look – they definitely hadn't known that the Ministry paid for anything in wandmaking.

Ms Rosier wasn't finished, though.

"My brother Valerian has only ever been good with plants, magical or not. He's not really a good wizard in anything else. So the moment he finally graduated from Hogwarts, he went to Ollivanders and got a custom wand that focused on herbological needs even if, say, it wasn't any good for transfiguration or dueling."

She glanced up and straightened.

"Well, Arcturus, if you are done, may we move on? I believe the children want to see to their wands, now."

Aldebaran looked behind him – and yes, the old wizard was standing right there, with Nashira by his side, looking through the window. The shopkeeper could be seen staring at the huge pile of shoe boxes he'd have to put on somewhere until all the groups had come and bought what they needed.

"We're waiting for Sirius."

"He's outside."

Nashira pointed at a silhouette, growing bigger as it advanced in the empty street. Aldebaran squinted, trying to stand as tall as possible, and eventually recognized the young man who wasn't quite his father – and still was.

"She's right! Are we going, then?"

Arcturus looked at the boy silently, with an odd look on his face, for a moment – then he shook his head and agreed. The five children made their way outside, shortly followed by the two elders.

Theresa chuckled quietly, as the smallest of the lot – Orion, who stood almost an entire head under the other two eleven-year-olds – reached Sirius Orion Black first, asking him questions they couldn't hear from across the street.

"He does remind me of your father, Arcturus... The poor man didn't know what to do with children either. I'll always remember the day Lycoris invited me for a week and he simply stood there, eyeing us like we were very peculiar specimens..."

That was before they'd gotten together, Lycoris and her – when they were simply friends, when Theresa hadn't even been thinking about girls or boys or anything of the kind.

Arcturus scoffed – likely trying not to reminisce back to these days, considering he'd spent most of that week avoiding his younger sister and her friend, and sequestered with their father and grandfather instead, learning the secrets of being an heir of the House of Black.

"You'd think Father would have learned a thing or two after three children, but the most family bonding we ever did was talking about how children are complicated, right after Lucretia's birth."

Theresa winced a bit – yes, that was exactly the impression she'd gotten, years later, watching and listening to Lycoris. Sirius – Rigel for a second name, that one – Black had had cordial relationships with his two sons and his daughter, but it hadn't happened until they were all adults – when they'd been able to become friends rather than scions.

Sirius – Orion, like his father, like the darker-skinned boy by his side – looked a bit unsure of what to do, right now, with three young boys hounding him, almost pushing him inside Ollivanders, with a slightly older, almost-similar-looking boy acting disinterested in feigned casualness, with a very curious teenage girl peering inside the shop.

In his defense, the young man hadn't expected to become a father in such a ridiculous way, and he hadn't had years to become accustomed to the fact – instead, he'd been granted a large group of more-or-less fully grown sons and daughters. That wasn't something his namesake could have claimed as an excuse.

Arcturus frowned slightly before entering the shop – keeping the door open for her, too. Ever the gentleman, though a bit detached even then...

"My grandson will have to learn quickly how to deal with them. Eighteen, no, nineteen with the one he wants to adopt... It'll be sink or swim."

Theresa nodded at Garrick Ollivander, who'd just appeared from the back of the shop with a rather intrigued look in his pale gray eyes. The wandmaker was soon distracted by Sirius and the kids, though – so she continued on the matter that had just been brought up by Lycoris' brother:

"At least the young man isn't alone in this, Arcturus. He has already agreed to your help. Melania will be there, too. It's true that Sirius is much too young for all this, but you both should be able to provide experience for him to lean upon."

Arcturus didn't answer – only glanced at her silently, his lips pursed in a way that Theresa didn't really like.

It was the look the wizard usually wore when he thought something wasn't how it should be done, but didn't know what else to propose.

He'd looked exactly the same when Lycoris and her had decided to leave for a world tour until Ursula Black changed – or at least pretended to – her mind on their relationship. Arcturus hadn't said anything, no, but he'd looked at them both exactly the same way. Like he'd play along only because he didn't know what else to do.

Of course, by the time the Black grandmother had finally swallowed her pride and her unasked-for opinions and they'd come back to Great Britain, Arcturus had forgotten all about his disapproval, too busy being irritated by his cousin Pollux.

Generally, Theresa found, the best way to deal with Arcturus Black's disapproval was to force a compromise and then just wait for him to get used to the consequences. For him to see that it wasn't so bad, really – that it might even become a good thing, possibly.

This might work on some points with the current situation, but...

The old witch sighed.

She'd lived four decades with a Black – a Black raised the same way Arcturus had been, by the same parents. She could guess enough.

"You know, you can tell your grandson that you'll be helping. There is nothing to gain in keeping it quiet."

If they did talk – only that, nothing more – then Sirius might actually come to believe it.

"We've reached an agreement already, Theresa."

"You have actually told him that you'd support him in this unexpected change, that you care about what happens to him and the children? That they are, him and them, your blood, the children of your family, kids and young adults who do need you and that you want to be there for them?"

A moment of silence. Arcturus looked over at the barely-adult boy who watched quietly as Garrick presented a selection of wands to the smallest of their boys. Orion, if Theresa remembered right.

A name like the young boy's grandfather, like Arcturus' son and Lycoris' nephew.

She wasn't entirely certain she understood everything about what had happened, about how those children could be here now – but it didn't matter. Sirius Orion Black had brought so many children of his blood into the family, and some of the names they sported told enough.

Just those five...

Orion, his father's name. Aldebaran, Antares and Nashira, stars. Four out of five were throwbacks to the Black family. The fifth, Shivansh, was obviously named after his mother's culture.

Yes, of course, even if Sirius Black had issues with his family, it was obvious that he still cared.

But maybe it wasn't obvious to anyone who wasn't used to how the Blacks acted, or to someone who had always lived like that.

Theresa growled in exasperation:

"Blacks! Arcturus, you don't have to keep everything so... Ah, anyway. Ask him what bothers him about his relationship with his own father, with your son, and try to listen, for once. You might find out why the boy literally fled from his home three years ago, and then you'll know how to keep it from happening again without having to resort to legal coercion."

Legal coercion worked, sure – if you had the necessary arguments to back up your claim and enough power to be heard and listened to – but there were less extreme ways to keep people from leaving your side. Ways that didn't imply that you cared nothing about their own wants.

Where relationships were concerned, the Blacks were unnaturally good at reading people and trapping them in ultimata, and not much at anything else.

A cry of joy and wonder caught Theresa's attention for a moment – Orion had found a wand, apparently: phoenix feather and ash wood, not very long – but she didn't let herself be distracted from the matter at hand. Lycoris might be dead, now, but the elderly witch wasn't going to watch her love's brother crash this chance at reconstructing his family.

She needed a hobby, anyway.

"Ask Melania, if you have any doubts. She'll tell you the same things I just did. You need to understand why the boy ran away from being raised by a man you yourself raised."

Melania Macmillan had been a year ahead of Theresa in Hufflepuff, and she'd been Head Girl when the younger witch had been a prefect. Theresa could count on her to be more sensitive than her husband on the matter of familial relationships.

Arcturus grumbled under his breath, and she almost didn't hear it:

"Orion isn't the problem here, Walburga is."

Theresa rolled her eyes.

"And she's a Black too. I know a pattern when I see one. Besides, just because your daughter-in-law is a bigger problem doesn't make your son not a problem. You both have excuses, between your own father and the fact that Orion was raised by someone who'd never had a proper relationship with his parents, but this is not about blame, this is about doing better from now on."

Before Arcturus could answer that – or act offended, most likely – they were interrupted by Garrick's surprised exclamation:

"Well, that was a quick one! Clients usually do take more than two tries before getting the right wand... Hum... A straightforward, gentle personality, I suppose. Hazel and unicorn hair, ten inches and a half. Let's see to you, now, young man."

And the wandmaker turned away from Aldebaran – who stared at the wand resting in both his hands – to look at the last prospective first year.

Shivansh blinked once, and obediently raised his arms as Garrick went about measuring several things.

Theresa decided to finally pay attention to the wandmatching and moved away from the shop's front door. Arcturus followed her without a word, and settled by his grandson's side.

Shivansh, it turned out, had to try a good dozen of wands before finally settling on an appropriate one – or, according to Garrick, before a wand settled on him. The boy ended up with a rather long wand of pear wood with a dragon heartstring core.

The attention then shifted to Antares.

The old wandmaker, the boy knew, didn't have the slightest idea of who he was or how he'd come to be there, needing a wand when he'd never set foot in the shop before – even if Antares looked painfully like his father, like Sirius Black, like Arcturus Black, like Nashira who was patiently waiting for her turn, too.

Sirius had been vague enough when they'd come in, only saying that the Black family had some last-minute additions to their ranks and some of them needed wands. Ollivanders had been rather... intrigued, but had barely pushed the point – it seemed like he enjoyed the idea of figuring it out by himself, based on what he could deduce from the wandmatching to come.

Still.

Antares absolutely hated the fact that he didn't have his wand with him. No matter what happened, even if Ollivander could find him a new one – it wouldn't be the same.

Before the old wizard could start measuring him too, the boy spoke up:

"I... My old wand, it was unicorn hair and spruce. Y... The wandmaker said the wood was the same he'd used for my brother and sister's wands. There was... I don't know if it's because we're triplets, but Hyades had the phoenix feather, Almaric got the dragon heartstring one, and I was chosen by the unicorn hair wand."

And it wasn't like they were unusually powerful wands or anything, but...

He and Almaric and Hyades had wands made from the same tree. That was all.

Now Almaric and Hyades still had their wands, and Antares... didn't.

There wasn't anything Ollivander could do about it, either. It wasn't like he could travel into another time – a possibility, they'd said the day before – and get the boy's wand back. For all Antares knew, those three wands hadn't been made until a few days before they'd come in the shop for their eleventh birthday, and...

"Spruce and each of the three cores, all from the same tree, you say?"

"I... Uh?"

The old wandmaker had an odd, pensive look on his face – as if he'd stumbled upon a mystery that made no sense but was easy to bypass even without an actual answer.

"You said you and your twins had sister wands. It was spruce, wasn't it?"

"Yes?"

"Hmm..."

Antares watched, unsure of what to say – of what to do – as Ollivander wandered to the back of the shop, disappearing for a minute or so without another word. The boy looked at the others, too; Orion and Nashira looked puzzled, Shivansh was frowning, Aldebaran still seemed taken with his own wand, Ms Rosier looked politely amused at Ollivander's weird manners, Arcturus Black was unreadable, and da... Sirius had his eyebrows raised high.

The young man laughed:

"...That's much less fuss than when the old man finally decided to go and look in the back for mine. Guess the lack of a high pile of discarded wands does that!"

Ollivander came back with three wand boxes – and Antares' heart made a leap in his chest.

He recognized the boxes.

"Are those..."

The wandmaker put down two of the boxes, and handed him the third.

"Go on, Mister Black. Try it."

The spruce wand looked exactly the same – and it felt the same in his hand, too. Antares didn't even try to wave it as you'd do with a new wand, he simply did a reparo on the glass Shivansh had breached during his own wandmatching session.

It worked perfectly.

"Well, well... I am deeply curious as to how you and your siblings came into possession of a trio of wands exactly similar to those I finished last Wednesday, Mister Black, but I do think you've found yourself a perfect replacement. As for the other two, I recommend..."

"We'll take those too, Ollivander."

Everyone turned to look at Arcturus Black, whose face and tone said enough about that particular decision. Antares had seen and heard those often enough, when his dad had decided on something and there was no point arguing.

Still, Ollivander tilted his head a bit, looking like a predatory bird assessing a situation. It was perhaps the weirdest moment to look so, but Antares had long decided that understanding the peculiarity of the wandmaker's mind was a task best left to Hyades and other Ravenclaws.

"Are you quite certain, Mister Black? The ministry financials won't be included on those two extra wands."

Arcturus Black slightly arched an eyebrow, in a way that said "does my silk scarf look like I care about money?", and the old wizard smiled thinly.

"We'll take both, thank you, Ollivander."

The wandmaker squinted, but put the three boxes with Orion, Shivansh and Aldebaran's.

Then he finally looked at Nashira, the oldest of the group.

"I believe you are the only one left, then, Miss Black."