Chapter 9: The Weighing of the Wands

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Danny waited until he couldn't see Spooky over the horizon anymore, three letters clutched in her talons, his heart already feeling lighter. Carefully, he stepped down from the ledge, tucking his quill and inkwell back in his bag. A barn owl clacked angrily at him with his beak as he wandered past.

'Jeez,I get it! I'm leaving.' He muttered. The owl looked unimpressed, screeching angrily after him as he shut the door and wandered back down the spiral staircase. His stomach growled angrily at him. Lunch had come and gone in the hour he spent in the Owlery and a quick glance at his watch only gave him five minutes to get to the Wand Weighing ceremony.

Hitching his bag up higher on his shoulder as he dashed down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Lancer was already on his case – he couldn't be late for something as big as this. Willing a feeling of weightlessness into the soles of his feet, he leapt down the last flight into the corridor. His feet had barely touched the ground when something crashed into his side, sending him tumbling into the wall and knocking the air out of his lungs. He curled his fists defensively, swivelling on the spot expecting to catch sight of Dash or one of his cronies with a hex at the end of their wands, but there was no one there.

A soft whimper made him glance down to a young girl who had crumpled to the floor with red-rimmed eyes clutching a hand tightly over her mouth.

'Woah, are you okay?' Danny burst out, kneeling down next to her, 'I didn't see you there. Let me see.'

The girl let out a sob, desperately trying to shrug him off as she ducked her head deeper into her chest. Danny caught a glimpse of her two front teeth that were growing at a rather furious rate – now reaching past the collar of her robes.

'Hey, it's alright. It's an easy fix, yeah?' Danny offered calmly, pulling out his wand. The girl shook her head insistently, crooking her neck out to avoid jabbing herself with her own front teeth, 'Back in third grade Andrew Walterbeck's older brother thought it would be funny to teach him the growing hex. My teeth nearly touched my knees before the healer fixed me. Thought it might be best to learn the counterspell for next time.'

Carefully, he reached out and lowered the girl's twitching hands, transfiguring one of her spellbooks into a small mirror and proffering it to her shaky hands. Carefully she picked it up, staring in horror at her reflection.

'Deep breaths and stay as still as you can. You're gonna have to tell me when you want me to stop.' with a sharp flick of his wrist he muttered, 'Reducio Mordices.'

Even quicker than they grew, the teeth began to shorten. The girl's eyes were still glazed with tears, but she seemed calmer than before, more focused as she stared unblinking into the mirror.

When her teeth reached back over her lip she gave a soft whisper, 'Stop.' Danny pulled his wand away, satisfied when the girl gave him a smile. She twisted her head left and right, seeming more than pleased at the neat row of white even teeth staring at her in the mirror.

'Oh, thank you!' She gushed, throwing the mirror down to latch onto one of his arms with a tight hug. Danny grinned down at her when she caught herself and pulled away, seeming a little embarrassed by her actions.

'It's no problem, can't say it's the first time I've seen that hex before. I've sort of become an expert on fixing teeth now with all the bad days I've had. And ears… and noses...'

The girl launched herself to her feet and stuck out a hand, 'I'm Hermione Granger, by the way. You're Daniel Fenton, the champion for the Casper Magical Seminary.'

'Just Danny,' he offered her in exchange. Hermione grinned up at him, tears banished as he gave her hand a firm shake.

'Pleasure to meet you, Danny. Thank you for your help. Who knows how long they would have grown before I had a chance to see Madam Pomfrey.'

A door creaked open further down the corridor and a stream of students started to make their way out, flooding the corridors, chatting away happily. Danny glanced at his watch. He was officially late.

With a groan he reached down and helped Hermione pick up her books, 'Look, I'm sorry to have to run off on you, but if I don't leave now Lancer is going to have my head.'

'But this period is supposed to be the last for today?' Hermione frowned, tucking the books Danny handed her into her school bag, 'Are you taking extra?'

'Er, no. I've got this thing… champion stuff, wand weighing ceremony and all that.'

Hermione gasped, 'Well you'd better get going then! The classroom is all the way on the other side of the castle! Take the second flight of stairs, past Geralt the Gruesome Geriatric's portrait, it'll take you there the fastest!'

'Right,' Danny nodded with a sharp salute, 'Thanks Hermione, it was nice to meet you!'

Hermione yelled something in reply, but Danny was already making his way down the corridor. With a quick glance around him for dawdling students, Danny threw himself off the flight of stairs to land on the third floor.

'I say! Where on earth did you come from?' Cried a portrait of an old man covered in painful-looking boils, but Danny didn't have time to reply to him, dashing down the corridor to find a decorated sign stuck to a rather understated wooden door.

The Weighing of the Wands Ceremony

Officiated by Garrick Olivander, esteemed owner of Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands (since 382 BC)

With a deep breath, Danny pushed the door open to find a small classroom. Most of the tables had been pushed towards the back, leaving room for three desks covered in a length of velvet cloth. Sitting behind the desks were five of the six judges, Mr. Bagman sat to the left, dressed in bold magenta robes, attempting to make conversation with his neighbour, Madame Maxime, who was looking down at him with her imposing figure as if he was an annoying gnat. Karkaroff and Lancer were next, both sitting proudly as a man with an old-fashioned camera wandered around the room, taking photos. Mr. Crouch sat on the far end, hunched over, his moustache twitching with impatience as he sent fervent looks at a small broom cupboard at the back of the room.

Danny spotted Victor Krum leaned up against a wall, seemingly in his usual moody disposition while Cedric and Fleur chatted amicably off to the side; Fleur seemed to have a habit of throwing her hair back and laughing gaily, letting her hair catch the light just right. His mind seemed to empty at the hypnotic sight as he stared.

'Daniel, was it?' called out a serene voice, snapping him to attention. An old man wandered his way over, and Danny was surprised by how spryly he walked, 'Welcome to the Weighing of the Wands ceremony.'

'Danny,' he muttered, 'Er, thanks. What's this all about?'

'It is a practice held for many generations,' the man breathed out. His blue eyes boring into Danny's with an alarming sharpness, 'I am Garrik Olivander, your proprietor of knowledge for this evening. Anything there is to know about wands and their ways, I will be able to supply to you.'

'Any wand?' Danny pressed, curiosity rising in him.

'Indeed, it is my duty, not only to the wizard who holds the wand, but also the wand itself. The wand chooses the wizard, after all. I have a feeling that your wand is a curious one indeed...'

Olivander was interrupted when the entrance swung open to reveal Dumbledore dressed in robes of puce who smiled merrily at the room. None of the other judges deemed it fit to return it other than Bagman, who cried, 'Dumbledore, good man! I was beginning to think you wouldn't make it!'

'My apologies, Ludo. I had some things to attend to. Are all the contestants ready?'

'Nearly. Seems like Rita Skeeter is already on the prowl for her latest story. Dragged poor Harry right into that broom cupboard over there.'

Danny raised his eyebrows at this. What could this Skeeter woman hope to gain from locking a fourth grader in a storeroom full of Winky Crockett's Elbow Grease?

Dumbledore took large strides over to the cupboard and pulled the door open. Danny could see the blinking figure of Harry tucked in a corner, nearly up to his neck in cleaning products from where he was seated on an uncomfortable-looking bucket.

'Dumbledore!' A woman shrieked. Appearing from the depths of the cupboard was a shocking woman with a broad jaw, surrounded by a set of tightly pinned blonde curls. A pair of heavily bedazzled rhinestone glasses were perched on the end of her nose, which she pushed up with a set of cherry-red claws nails.

She smiled widely up at Dumbledore, snapping an ugly crocodile purse shut to sling over her shoulder, 'How are you?' She crooned, holding out a hand to the Headmaster, 'I hope you saw my piece over the summer about the International Confederation of Wizard's Conference.'

'Enchantingly nasty,' Dumbledore replied. Danny noticed that he didn't offer his own hand, choosing to keep them by his sides, 'I particularly enjoyed your description of me as an obsolete dingbat.'

Danny snorted under his breath before turning away. Fleur had moved on to speaking in rapid French to her Headmistress, leaving Cedric to stand by himself. Carefully, Danny made his way over.

'Hi,' he offered. Cedric glanced up surprised, and while he didn't turn away he didn't offer his own greeting either. Danny hissed under his breath, 'I just wanted to say sorry for before. I didn't mean it. I was just...'

Cedric stared at him for a long time before muttering, 'I get it,' he finally answered, 'Your family are muggles. It must be hard to get them to understand everything that's going on.'

'Yeah. Yeah, totally!' Danny gave a relieved grin. Cedric hadn't gotten it completely right, but at least he'd given him an out.

'I mean, I barely knew how to tell mine! Dad's over the moon, but mum's been threatening to send a howler to Dumbledore to get me out of it before I get hurt. It took my dad hours to calm her down.' Cedric rolled his eyes good-heartedly.

'So we're good?' Danny asked nervously.

Cedric grinned, 'Sure. You owe me a butterbeer next Hogsmeade trip though.'

'Hogsmeade trip?'

Before Cedric could reply Dumbledore moved to take his seat at the velvet-laden table. Rita Skeeter had perched herself onto a small stool off to the side of the room, sucking on the tip of a poison green Quick-Quotes Quill.

'May I introduce to you Mr. Olivander?' Dumbledore waved a hand, 'He will be checking your wands to ensure they are in good condition before the tournament. Please, take a seat.'

A row of chairs appeared opposite the judges' table. Danny took a seat between Cedric and Harry.

'Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?' asked Mr. Ollivander, his hand already held out in an expectant manner as he crossed to the middle of the room.

Fleur swept herself up and proudly pronounced her wand. Ollivander held it in front of himself, staring intently at it, 'Hmm…' he twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his face as if trying to peer into it. 'Yes,' he murmured quietly, 'Nine and a half inches… inflexible… rosewood… and containing… dear me…'

'An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela,' Fleur stated fondly, 'One of my grandmuzzer's.'

'Yes,' said Mr. Ollivander, 'Yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands… however, to each his own, and if it this suits you…'

Mr. Ollivander ran his fingers along the wand, apparently checking for scratches or bumps; then he muttered, 'Orchideous!' and a bunch of tulips burst from the wand tip. He seemed satisfied with the result, 'Very well, very well, it's in fine working order,' he said, snatching the flowers and passing them to Fleur along with her wand, 'Mr. Diggory, you're next.'

Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he passed her, not even noticing when she smacked Danny in the face with her bouquet as she returned to her seat. He sneezed.

'Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?' said Mr. Ollivander with much more enthusiasm as Cedric handed over his wand, 'Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn… must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches… ash… pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition… You treat it regularly?'

'Polished it last night,' grinned Cedric. Danny snorted under his breath good-naturedly, show-off.

Ringlets of smoke poured out of the end of Cedric's wand, circling the room, and Mr. Ollivander pronounced himself satisfied.

'Mr. Krum, if you please.'

Viktor Krum dragged himself from his seat, hunched over and duck-footed, toward Mr. Ollivander. He thrust his wand into the proffered hand and stood scowling, hands shoved into the pockets of his robes.

Mr. Ollivander hummed again, 'This is a Gregorovich creation unless I'm mistaken? A fine wandmaker, though the style is never quite what I… however…' He eyed the wand critically with what Harry could only describe as suspicion, turning it over and over before his eyes. 'Yes, hornbeam and dragon heartstring?' he shot at Krum, who grunted, 'Rather thicker than one usually sees… quite rigid… ten and a quarter inches… Avis!'

The hornbeam wand set off a blast like a gun, and a number of small, twittering birds flew out of the end and through the open window into the watery sunlight.

'Good,' Mr. Ollivander nodded as the birds flew into the horizon, handing back Krum's wand, 'Two more? Very well, come on, Mr. Potter.'

Harry got to his feet as Krum slouched back into his chair and walked up to Mr. Ollivander, handing him his wand.

'Aaaah, yes,' said Mr. Ollivander, his pale eyes suddenly gleaming, 'Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember.'

Mr. Ollivander spent much longer examining Harry's wand than any of the others. Eventually, however, he made a fountain of wine shoot out of it, and handed it back to Harry, announcing that it was still in perfect condition.

'Lastly, Mr. Fenton?'

Danny pulled his wand from his pocket, handing it over to Mr. Ollivander who stared at it with a deep sense of curiosity. Danny noted that it resembled none of the other's rather refined-looking wands, polished and whittled into things of beauty. Instead, his wand resembled a jagged strip of charcoal crudely hewn onto shining white bone. Mr. Ollivander stared at it unblinking as he twirled it in his hands.

'Curious indeed,' Mr. Ollivander muttered, 'This wand has not been in your possession for long, has it, Mr. Fenton?'

'Only three years,' Danny admitted with a blush, 'My first wand just sorta stopped working in fourth grade.'

'The will of a wand can change with the will of its master. It's not as uncommon as you might think,' Mr. Ollivander waved him off, 'It is an old practice to use more than one wood for a wand, however. It's a lost art, many wandmakers have died from it – it makes wands highly impractical and very volatile. It takes a particular kind of wizard to handle a cross-wood.'

Danny ground his teeth, not sure whether Olivander's words were a compliment or an insult.

Mr. Ollivander's mouth was a taut line but his eyes danced, 'Yew is a powerful wood – very dangerous if not wielded properly. And you are aware that blackwood is traditionally not used in wand-making, yes? It lacks any magical properties; its only purpose would be to channel magic directly from a wizard, which can be very treacherous indeed.'

Danny opened his mouth, but Mr. Ollivander ignored him, turning his attention back to the wand, 'Four hundred years old, sturdy, inflexible… eleven and a half inches…' Mr. Ollivander stared expectantly at Danny, who was starting to feel rather indignant and embarrassed.

'It's Threstal,' he muttered.

Recognition and wonder seemed to flicker across Mr. Ollivander's face, 'Ah, I see. There was only one known wandmaker that ever experimented with Threstal hairs outside of lore,' He delicately handed Danny his wand back, 'I believe that this particular wand will not be receptive to my efforts. If you could do the honours, Mr. Fenton.'

Danny swished his wand, and a torrent of wind flurried throughout the room, Madam Maxime gave out a surprised cry and Karkaroff swore violently before the wind died down as quickly as it came.

Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands excitedly, 'Brilliant! Absolutely fantastic. I never believed I would get the opportunity to witness the craftsmanship of such a wonder as Clockwork. Truly impressive; a wandmaker who has defied both time and age. You are very lucky indeed to have someone willing to part with such a peculiar wand.'

Danny didn't think it pertinent to mention that he had received the wand directly from the long-dead wandmaker himself after helping seal a flux in the timestream.

Mr. Ollivander shooed him back to his seat and he happily collapsed into it.

'Thank you all,' said Dumbledore, standing up at the judges' table, 'You may go back to your lessons now – or perhaps it would be quicker just to go down to dinner, as they are about to end—'

The man beside Skeeter half-hidden in the shadows jumped up and cleared his throat loudly, gesturing with his camera at the group.

'Photos, Dumbledore! Photos!' cried Bagman, excitedly, 'All the judges and champions, what do you think, Rita?'

'Er – yes, let's do those first,' said Rita Skeeter, whose eyes were upon Harry again, 'And then perhaps some individual shots.' Danny swore her gleaming stare landed on him with a hungry look that made him swallow hastily.

'Very well,' Bagman clapped his hands, 'Everyone, line up! Come along now! Youngest in the front, nice big smiles.'

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'There's more rumours,' Tonks fell into step beside him as he made his way down to Scrimgeour's office, 'We've double-checked the sources this time, they seem legitimate.'

Danny raised a brow at that, 'Where are we looking?'

'We're not fully sure yet. He's been travelling. There've been sightings down in Wales heading north, but our team has been so stretched we've barely had a chance to interview all the witnesses,' she gave a short salute to Milford as he hurriedly opened the door for Danny with a simpering look. Danny smiled back awkwardly and stepped through.

Scrimgeour's office was the same, except for the large man in the far corner, hands pressed in front of him and styled in a pressed suit; Danny thought he looked more like a no-maj bouncer with his bald head and single gold hoop earring than an Auror.

'Ah, Phantom. I see you received our owl. We weren't sure if it would be able to reach you.' Scrimgeour was staring at a particularly bright dot of light sat over the United Kingdom. He tapped it fervently, turning to look at Danny with sharp eyes. 'There's been seven sightings in the past two weeks of Sirius Black, almost all of them in or around England. That's too many for us to write off as coincidence.'

'Where do you think he's headed?'

'Possibly Hogwarts?' Tonks suggested, 'But it doesn't make any sense. With the Tetrawizard Tournament currently, the security is through the roof!'

Danny scoffed, 'He can't be after Harry Potter still? You'd have to be crazy to go there now!'

Scrimgeour stared darkly at the globe, 'Sirius Black's mental state aside, it would be safest to assume that can only be the case. Black was convicted as the fault of Harry's parent's murders following You-Know-Who's fall. Following his initial escape he was spotted around Hogwarts several times,' Turning in his seat he looked directly at Danny, 'We're locating you to the highlands. We need you to keep a look-out — report in every week with what you find, Kingsley will be around to assist you if you need.'

The large man in the corner bowed his head with a wide smile. Danny gave a hesitant nod back before asking, 'What about the rest of the Aurors? Isn't Black labelled as Undesirable Number One?'

'We'll be navigating the sources throughout England. Hopefully we'll catch Black before he even makes it up to Scotland. You'll just be the backup.'

'Sure, nothing like doing patrol over half a country.' Danny muttered under his breath.

Scrimgeour seemed to hear him despite, 'If your gleaming recommendations from the MACUSA have not been as over-glorified as they appear then I am at relative ease that you will be capable at acting as a watchdog, Phantom.'

Tonks looked mortified at Scrimgeour's implications. Danny could feel his cheeks heat up, his eyes narrowing as he glared at the Head. Kingsley simply looked amused, his eyes bouncing back and forth like he was watching an enthralling game of Quidditch.

Rising to his feet, Danny bit out, 'Is that all, Scrimmy?'

Scrimgeour gave him a cool look before waving a dismissive hand, 'Feel free to supply your reports via owl if nothing occurs, but if you see anything out of the ordinary you are to report here immediately. You are not to interfere with the capture of Sirius Black, leave that to the professionals. Do you understand?'

'Clear as a crystal vial.'

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