This is my piece for the 2023 DBH Big Bang!

Please review if you like it.

I hope you all enjoy reading, much love!

Pain seared his skin. The worst he'd even felt. It wasn't just hot. The burn was like needles pricking every inch of flesh alongside licking flames. He swore he could feel the very seams of his skin tearing open. He felt it inside and out. It was like his eyes were melting, his tongue was splitting, his lungs were filled with spitting embers, and he couldn't breathe. His stomach felt like a trillion tiny blades were forcing their way out. Even his bones hurt. He heard a shrill, shrieking cry, and it took him a while to realise it was his own. He could barely even take a breath. Each gasp felt like he was dragging hot embers down his raw throat. His eyes rolled back and a high whistle filled his ears.

"Phck!" Gavin shot upright, gasping and panting as he looked around the small room. He was still quaking at the raw memory, skin slick with sweat beneath the sheets. The pain lingered like a phantom in the night until he finally fell back against the pillows. He covered his face with shaking hands and fended off the fearful sobs that threatened to tear his throat. It was just a dream…Calm the phck down…He wished more than anything that he could use his Patronus to calm himself, but without his wand, he was useless. He hadn't mastered the art of wandless casting. He'd heard of few who had. His chest ached as he gulped down deep breaths. His skin felt itchy and sticky beneath the coarse sheets.

He tossed the thin covers aside and got to his feet. Rooms at The Leaky Cauldron weren't exactly designed with comfort in mind. They were only meant to be used for a day or two at a time, which was exactly what he intended. The next day, he'd be leaving. He could hardly believe he'd agreed to this shit. What the phck was I thinking? I don't even like kids! He crossed the cramped room to stand at the small window and looked down into Diagon Alley. It wasn't exactly bustling yet. Most places wouldn't open for a good few hours. It was still dark. Dark and cold. Good old British September…He swore it was colder than America, even though he knew it wasn't. It was a damp, biting chill that seeped through the walls, and right to the bone.

He looked at the letter again. Dear Mr G Reed, We are pleased to extend the invitation for you to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Your reputation at the Ministry of Magic, exploits overseas, and a heartfelt appeal by Professor Chen have convinced me you are the correct candidate for the role. Please send your acceptance letter by owl at your earliest convenience, so we might adequately prepare for your arrival. Attached is a list of valuable resources you may wish to purchase for the role. Congratulations and kind regards, Professor H Anderson, Headmaster. He still couldn't believe he'd been railroaded into accepting this. He'd originally intended to ignore it, but a second letter had arrived barely a day later. Then another, and another. He'd set upon writing back a polite refusal, only he'd then received a letter from Tina, almost begging him to accept the post. He'd still intended to turn it down, much as he loved his old classmate and hadn't seen her in a few years.

What prompted him to change his mind was an urgent message from the ministry itself. His chest still tightened at the memory of the dark tawny owl delivering the official-looking parchment. He'd almost scoffed as he read it. They were pleased to hear he was on the mend after that most traumatic incident, and commended him for holding on and not giving up any information. They also understood the reason for his subsequent resignation from the role of auror. After his ordeal, it was no surprise he wanted to move on to other things, and the position at Hogwarts was a fine opportunity. Then came the catch.

As it happens, they'd heard rumours that something was happening at the school. They weren't sure what. Some form of dark incursion, perhaps. They needed someone they could trust on the inside to monitor the situation. Of course you do…Fortuitously, his recent job offer would put him in just such a position. Well, isn't that something…It would be of great service to the ministry if he would accept the role and take the opportunity to clear the current staff of any wrongdoings, and watch for anything suspicious. Of course it would…There were whispers of dark things afoot, and Hogwarts was a prime target, being home to the next generation of Britain's young witches and wizards. Sure, think of the children…He was assured they didn't expect him to take any direct action, merely to monitor and report. Yeah, that'll last. He could hardly turn them down. Not after all they'd done for him over the years. His initial training. The bills for St Mungo's. Pardoning him of any wrongdoing and covering his ass on multiple occasions. The most recent court case. He owed them, and Gavin Reed wasn't one to let a debt go unpaid. It's not like I'd do anything else with my life…It was certainly better than returning to his family home.

Yawning and exhausted as he was, he wasn't even sure he'd last a day at the job anyway. Sure, he probably had the knowledge and experience, but putting a wand in his hand was dangerous. He was often sleep deprived and bad tempered, with sharp reflexes and no filter. Was that really the sort of person you wanted to be teaching the next generation? At least they'll get a damned good look at what the life of an auror can do to you. He looked away as he caught his reflection in the window. The scar across his nose was faded and pink after all this time, but it was no less of a reminder.

He left the window with a sigh and grabbed his towel and spongebag. There was a grubby little bathroom down the hall, and it being so early, he was the only one there. Plumbing was, luckily, one of the features the old pub had adopted from the surrounding muggle buildings. The pipes were old and creaky, but they still dispensed hot water. It was just what he needed to chase away the lingering nightmare. Unlike the burning of the Cruciatus Curse, the water on his skin was almost comforting as it soothed his fears and washed away the lingering sweat of his night terrors. His muscles slowly relaxed, and he began to feel drowsy again beneath the spray.

Back in his room, he took a breath and searched through his drawer for a calming elixir. It was one of the few potions he'd agreed to take throughout his time at St Mungo's. He hadn't had a choice at first. Upon his arrival, he'd been understandably out of his mind and almost catatonic. He didn't remember much about those earlier months, but he'd heard it was a time of endless writhing, screaming, shivering, and lashing out in fits of panic. He was subdued and sedated for months on end. They'd originally believed he'd never recover, much like many others who'd suffered extensive torture under the Cruciatus Curse. Luckily, his thoughts had gradually reordered themselves enough for him to bury the trauma.

Burying it had done little good. He'd remained incarcerated for almost a year since then as hospital staff dredged up the experience to help him overcome it. Keeping it buried was likely to result in a relapse. Facing it was more likely to bring about healing. Eventually. Gavin had resented them for a long time. He'd been happier before. He happily would have obliviated the memories completely. As it was, he was a jittering mess most nights, too scared to fall asleep. The one thing that brought him peace was slinking off into a darkened corner somewhere in his animagus form. No one ever batted an eyelid at a sleeping cat, especially not if he kept to the shadows or somewhere high enough to avoid notice. As a cat, his instincts were often heightened to the point he could sense danger coming, either with his ears or his nose. Despite being much bigger, the world seemed a much safer place as a cat.

The calming elixir tasted strangely sweet, like liquid toffee. That was likely to make it more palatable to children. These elixirs were extremely popular to combat things like the first day of school nerves or the shock of meeting muggles. Gavin was a regular visitor to the muggle world, or had been in his youth, so he could see how it might be daunting for those who'd never seen it. The lack of floo powder alone would be enough to drive some of them mad. No brooms. Books that didn't fly. Paintings that never changed. Even cooking and cleaning had been a shock at first. Tina had laughed out loud as he'd watched her mother cook dinner like it was witchcraft. He'd seen potato peelers work, of course, just never with a person attached to the other end.

The elixir and fond memories of Tina's childhood home were enough to settle his nerves and allow him to return to bed. He didn't sleep, but he did lie down and close his eyes awhile. As soon as the clatter of early morning deliveries began, Gavin roused himself and headed down to the bar. He had a simple breakfast before heading out into the early morning streets. Being so early, he'd beaten not only the returning school children, but the shop owners as well. Gringotts Bank was the first place to open, but he already had plenty of money ready to use in the form of bank notes. It was far easier than lugging solid coin around. He simply signed a note with the correct amount and it could be withdrawn from the family vault at a future time.

Despite his reluctance, he headed to Madam Malkin's first. He wasn't one for traditional robes, but as a teacher, he needed appropriate attire for staff functions. He forced a polite smile as he stepped inside and eyed the rows of black robes in dread. Most of them were, thankfully, for students. The blue, green, red, and yellow of Hogwarts was unmistakable, and there were plain black for those first years who didn't have a house yet. The coloured linings would be added later. Such alterations could be done by post or at their partner shop, Gladrags Wizardwear, in Hogsmeade. They'd worked together for years to supply the uniforms for Hogwarts, though otherwise their styles were quite different.

"Good morning! Sorry, I wasn't expecting anyone just yet." The tailor was a plump, middle-aged woman, possibly even a descendent of Madam Malkin herself. She certainly suited the role. She was busy eating a hot teacake as her morning tea floated beside her on a delicate saucer. Her clothing was quite traditional. Neat, frilled robes of pale pink that clinched at her waist and flowed down to her toes. Her hair was pinned up in swirls of honey with huge ornate pins holding it in place. It looked like a giant pincushion, though Gavin would never say such a thing out loud. It was never a good idea to offend one's tailor.

"No rush, I'm just looking…" It was a blatant lie, and they both knew it. One did not simply enter Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions to browse! Despite his small lie, the tailor was content and grateful for the chance to finish her breakfast in peace. It also gave her time to size up her client. Not her usual catch. Not at all. He was somewhat worn and rugged. Rough around the edges. He had a history of sorts. She could see it in his scarred face and skittish movements. His shocking green eyes darted around with an almost unearthly caution. He trusted nothing. Not even the shadows on the walls.

She could almost hear his intake of breath as the bell chimed to admit the morning post. The raggedy grey owl flitted in with a hoot and dropped a stack of letters on the service desk before swooping out again. Her guest watched the whole thing like a hawk. His hand had automatically dropped to his hip. An auror. Many of them kept their wands in such a place. Easy access. Quick to grab. The best place to cast off the hip. Civilians were more refined. They kept their wands in ornate pouches, fine handbags, inner pockets, or even decorative canes. Only an auror would need that fast, hip access. Either that or a scoundrel who was up to no good, but this injured soul didn't give off such nefarious airs. He wasn't refined by any means, but he was good at heart. She could tell.

She also knew that traditional robes simply would not do! One so damaged and jittery would likely be spooked by his own shadow in such loose, flowing material. He needed something far simpler, but perhaps with an underlying elegance. Many gentlemen had taken to wearing almost muggle styled suits these days. They were rather popular. Something black, to blend with the shadows, but with perhaps a dash of deep emerald to enhance his fine eyes. He was strong, but somewhat lithe in the way he moved. He was almost silent as he walked the floor. Catlike. Her warm gaze sharpened as he paused at a display case and smiled. The cameo broaches. An ebony cat on a backdrop of grey. Quite a fine piece. It would be especially fine at the neck of a shirt with its glittering emerald eyes and thin black ribbon. This man clearly wasn't one for frills, but perhaps he would tolerate a moderately laced collar.

He was wearing well-worn dark boots that were looking quite raggedy. His clothes, in general, looked worn. His dark pants were almost dusty, and the rustic pecan of his leather jacket was scraped and almost torn in places. It had been a long time since this man had invested in a new wardrobe. Had he perhaps attained a new position? Somewhere prestigious? He was seeking finery, so it was more than likely. A new posting at the ministry? The courts? A lecturing position, perhaps? He paused at the school robes, eyes tracing the material with a sense of nostalgia. The green lining. An old Slytherin perhaps? He was a little rugged for a pureblood, but perhaps he'd foregone the life of luxury in lieu of a higher calling.

"Shall I measure you now, Sir?" Gavin looked up in surprise at the sudden invitation. He almost looked around to confirm that he was the one she was talking to, but the bell hadn't tolled since the earlier post. There were no other customers. He frowned a little at that. He hadn't seen anything in his style yet, or even anything he wanted to try. Not that I'm likely to find anything by myself…

"Are you sure? Shouldn't I choose something first?" He was confused as she gave him a good natured titter and waved away her empty cup and plate. They dutifully zipped off somewhere to be replaced by a floating measuring tape. Gavin eyed it warily as it coiled around him like a snake, sizing him up. He backed off as the end of the tape flicked out toward his head and dropped to the floor, hand automatically going for his hip. He swallowed as he remembered his lack of wand. It's just a phcking tape measure!

"Not to worry! I know just the thing. Now, do stand still." He did his best, though he felt stiff and distrustful as he stood in the middle of the floor and let the tape drift around his body. It flicked and snapped across his shoulders, zoomed down his arms, whipped inside and outside his legs and wrapped around his torso. "Arms out…Straight back-straight back!" He straightened his back as asked and tried not to flinch as the tape whizzed by his ear. "Excellent! Now just stay still a little longer…" Gavin stiffened as the clerk raised her wand. He was alarmed at first, but relaxed as several rolls of material zipped off the shelves to join them, floating around them in a circle.

He waited patiently as the clerk hummed and looked through the various fabrics. Black cotton with swirls of velveteen, lace patterns, velvets, silks, black and green fabrics, striped materials, and others with swirls. Each of them unrolled a little and draped themselves across his body as she frowned and clicked her tongue. With a flick of her wrist, the chosen rolls zoomed off towards the back of the store and the sound of snipping scissors and swishing fabric swiftly followed. Gavin frowned a little as the plump woman tottered her way towards the long red curtain of the sewing room.

"Come back this afternoon and your order will be ready." Gavin stammered a little as she disappeared. It all seemed so sudden. He hadn't even picked a design or spoken about the type of clothes he wanted. I guess if I don't like it then I don't have to buy it…With that in mind, he headed out and made his way to the next store. There was a long list of books he was supposed to buy to help in his new role, so Flourish and Blotts made sense as his next stop. He folded his arms across his body as he walked down the street. It was getting colder, and his jacket was old. It wasn't as warm as it used to be.

The streets were a little busier now. With the school year about to start, many parents were getting an early start that day, gathering last minute supplies. It would be unbearably busy later in the day. For Gavin, it was unbearably busy already as he looked at the opposite side of the street. He wanted to go to the bookstore next, meaning he'd have to weave between groups of shoppers to get by. Taking a steeling breath, he set off, sometimes brushing people as he went. His chest tightened at the tight spaces he was forced into. Surrounded. There were people on all sides, knocking him this way and that. He tightened his jaw and looked at the uneven cobbles as he crossed the bustling street. It was hard to ignore the exposed feeling that lingered, especially at his back. He fought the urge to look over his shoulder. He wasn't on the job. No one was looking for him. Few people even knew he'd been released. No one knew he was there.

Despite those thoughts, it was hard to ignore the flitting in his chest and the constant urge to run and hide. He felt like he was in danger. His first instinct was to transform and skitter off into a quiet alleyway to huddle between the trashcans. Calm the phck down! It's early morning in a busy shopping district! No one's coming for you here! A small sound escaped him as a large shoulder caught his own. He almost toppled off balance, though the man who'd walked into him had no such issue. He barely seemed to notice the impact as he continued walking. The man was tall and lithe, but broad in the shoulders, and impeccably dressed in a fine grey suit with a matching waistcoat. He was handsome and elegant with perfectly neat brunette hair and almost ethereal silvery eyes.

"Phck! Watch where you're going!" The words spilled on reflex with his short temper. He knew it was wrong to lash out, but the bordering panic and exposed feeling made him vulnerable. His heart was still racing as the man stopped and looked back with his lips quirked in amusement. It was only as he let out an almost chilling chuckle that Gavin realised why.

"Funny you should say that…" His silvery gaze wasn't focused on anything or anyone. He was staring in his general direction, but more over his shoulder than at his face. Gavin's suspicion was confirmed as a second young man, who looked very much like the first, arrived and hooked a protective arm through his elbow. His strangely soft hazel eyes sharpened as he glared at him indignantly.

"Is that supposed to be funny? Why don't you-"

"Connor, it's fine. He's right, it was my fault." Connor seemed less than pleased with his companion's interruption. Despite him not having finished his piece, Gavin felt suitably chastised. He dropped his green eyes, feeling guilty for snapping so harshly. He wasn't looking either, too preoccupied with the thoughts in his own head. Had he paid attention, he likely could have stepped around him. Feeling closed in and on edge, his first instinct had been to lash out. "My apologies, I didn't see you." Gavin almost cringed at the sincere apology. It made him feel worse.

"N-no, uh…It's my mistake…" He felt his insides flutter as the man smiled. As he spoke, the man's eyes moved to focus on him, following the sound of his voice. Connor seemed less than pleased, frowning and clicking his tongue as he looked between them. He almost seemed to roll his eyes as his companion remained in place facing him, and Gavin remained frozen to the spot, staring back. Neither seemed ready to break whatever silent moment was passing between them. Warmth fluttered in the pit of Gavin's stomach, and he felt strangely calm under that vacant silvery gaze.

"Be more considerate in the future! Let's go, Nines." Gavin swallowed the dryness in his throat. Nines…It was an odd name, likely a nickname. With a polite nod, Nines allowed Connor to steer him away, though his faded eyes seemed to linger until the last moment as he turned his back. Gavin watched them disappear into the crowd, frozen to the spot as if he'd been stupefied. He soon shook off the odd feeling and continued on his way, but the memory of that silken laugh and deep baritone followed him.

Flourish and Blotts was a real treat for students and bookworms alike. Gavin was neither, but they did have all the books he needed. Essential Defence Against the Dark Arts levels one to seven, Unforgivable Knowledge – All You Need to Know About Curses, The Art of Deflection, Honus Patronus, and a host of other volumes. Many of them had been around during his own school days, but there were a few newer tomes as well. He also gathered some office supplies since he was there. A quill, inkwell, blank parchment, envelopes, and notebooks. He was relieved to find the shop had a delivery service for a small fee, so he had his books and supplies sent ahead.

The final place he had to visit was the most important. Ollivanders. The best wand shop in the world. Even if he hadn't remained in England, he would have gone to Ollivanders to buy his new wand. The family had been in business for generations, sourcing and making the finest wands imaginable. Every British witch or wizard visited the store to get their wands, and many also came from overseas. It was a relatively small shop, but the walls were stacked high with wand boxes of all colours and sizes. The air was dusty and smelled faintly of sawdust, which was hardly surprising considering the workshop out back.

"Ah! Professor Reed! I was told you'd be stopping by." Gavin almost jumped out of his skin. He couldn't even see the speaker at first. He seemed to appear out of nowhere as he stepped around the counter and started sizing him up. "You're quite a bit taller than the last time I saw you." That much was true. He hadn't set foot in the small shop since his first year at Hogwarts when he'd bought his first wand. The current Ollivander had been approaching middle age back then. His hair was silver now, and lines had set in around his twinkling eyes. "I heard about what happened. Such a pity…but not to worry! I'll soon have you sorted." Gavin stiffened a little as a sympathetic hand came to rest on his shoulder and gave a solemn nod of acceptance. It wasn't unheard of for wands to break, but it was never easy to find another. He had terrible trouble the first time, too. It had taken over an hour to find it. Solid oak with a unicorn hair core. It had served him faithfully for over two decades.

"How did you know I'm a professor?" He didn't bother to ask how he knew his name. It was a well-known fact that Ollivander never forgot a face or wand. It was also true that if he'd been told to expect him, then it only made sense that the next older man to enter his store without a wand would be the man he was waiting for. Ollivander smiled as he made his way to the stacks of wooden boxes lining the walls and started looking. Since his last wand had been oak, it made sense to start there.

"Professor Anderson. He wrote that I should expect you to come for a new wand after…" Gavin gave a curt nod of understanding. His last wand had been broken during the torture. He still remembered it. The ground grinding against his cheek, the sting across his nose, the burning pain searing his skin. Trembling. Crying. Screaming. The foot that slowly pressed down on his wand. The crisp snap of wood as it broke in two. He didn't even know what happened to the fragments. They'd probably been taken as evidence and then disposed of. What use was a broken wand? "If I remember correctly, and I do, this may take a while…"

"I must have gone through every wand in the shop last time!" Gavin agreed with a small huff. Elijah had almost fallen asleep while waiting. He'd found his wand almost immediately. Ollivander was a seasoned wandmaker and could usually pick out a match within three tries. After the first hour, Gavin had started to doubt he'd ever find a match. Luckily, Ollivander had been patient, with an endless supply of wands to try. It seemed he'd settled on his first choice. He plucked the box down and opened the lid to reveal a wand that was very much like his last.

"Another oak with unicorn hair. Not quite the same as your last, but perhaps close enough." It made sense to try something similar. There was a chance he just particularly clicked with unicorns. Gavin shrugged and plucked the wand from the box. It was a fine piece, as all Ollivander wands were. It had a good weight. The handle was smooth, and it had a gentle sort of energy. "Give it a try." He did as asked and waved the wand, trying a simple levitation spell. The box he tried to lift immediately shot across the room and almost knocked over a stack of display boxes. "Perhaps not…"

Gavin almost sighed as he returned the wand to its box, stroking the handle in silent apology. He clearly wasn't the right wizard for that wand, and it had seemed almost indignant that he'd tried to cast with it. The next wand was actually related to his last. It was birch wood this time, with a hair from the same unicorn. This wand seemed even more displeased to be in his hand, perhaps blaming him for his last wand's demise. It was so against his use that it spurted angry flames, almost singeing the counter. Again, Gavin sighed his silent apologies and returned it to its box.

After trying and failing with five more unicorn hair wands of different woods, Ollivander moved on to dragon heart strings. Perhaps his magic had become so strong that unicorn hair was no longer durable enough to keep up with him. Gavin somewhat doubted that, but it made sense to try a new core. The first of these wands leapt straight from his hand and back into its box. It didn't even entertain the idea of letting him cast. The next wand, made of ash, brought a whole shelf down on their heads. Luckily, Ollivander was experienced enough to prevent injuries and fixed the shelf right away.

"We're really not having much luck, are we? Not to worry-not to worry! Perhaps phoenix feather is the one for you." Well, they'd had little luck with the others. He was almost twenty wands deep now, and Ollivander had prevented multiple accidents and put out multiple fires already. "This one is rather special! Cherry wood and phoenix feather. Very rare, indeed!" He knew it was a failure the moment he lifted it. The wood felt too light in his hand, too delicate. The wand most definitely agreed as it spurted a few unenthusiastic sparks from its tip before going dormant once more. "If all else fails, I'll custom make one for you." That carried its own worries. What if it rejected him even then?

There were hundreds of wands left to try, so he wasn't about to give up hope, but it was somewhat frustrating. For both of them. Ollivander had never had such a difficult job. He was usually a good judge of character, but Gavin was throwing him somewhat. The wands he chose should have complemented his personality well, but it seemed there was something beneath the surface that was scaring off or deterring his choices. Many children had already come and gone in the time it had taken Gavin to try all these wands. They'd been sorted after two or three tries, but he was now up to almost forty-five!

"This really is most unusual…" Ollivander looked thoughtful as he turned to yet another stack of boxes. Maple this time, quite the rarity in Britain. He'd actually had the wood shipped from Canada to make pieces for his customers overseas. Gavin huffed in frustration, feeling that perhaps he was the problem as opposed to the wands. "I really can't fathom why…" Ollivander had never known a wizard to be so thoroughly rejected before. "This really is quite frustrating."

"Sorry, but it's not like I can just say Accio wand and the perfect wand will come flying right into my-" No sooner had the words left his lips than they were interrupted by the shatter of broken glass, the clatter of falling boxes, and the flutter of scattered papers. With a zooming zip, a wand from the rear workshop twirled through the air and landed directly in the palm of his outstretched hand. His fingers automatically closed around it, caressing the odd texture of the ornate wooden handle. He felt a rush of raw power that almost chilled him, but there was an underlying warmth like that of an old friend returning home.

"Oh my…Well, that is most unusual!" Ollivander looked troubled as he circled Gavin, looking him up and down. "I never dreamed for a minute…I'd intended it to be a simple display piece, but…" Gavin frowned as he lifted the wand for a better look. It wasn't what he'd expected, either. The wood was a deep brown, almost as dark as ebony. Its body was mostly smooth and elegant, but almost scale-like diamonds had been carved into the surface. The handle was like a coiled snake, winding up to a base that was almost crown-like. There were small spikes around the edge of the handle and silver coating the base.

"What is it?" Even Gavin could tell it wasn't an ordinary wand. The power within felt different from any other wand he'd touched, and even the wood itself was odd. Dark and elegant. Sleek. It was smooth and almost slippery in his grasp, as if it could fall at any moment, but chose to remain in his grasp. It was almost like the power was a physical being, coiling up his arm and into his chest.

"This is the wand of Salazar Slytherin…Well, not quite. It's a lovingly crafted recreation of his wand. I was originally commissioned by the Historical Emporium of Wizarding Lineage to make an accurate replica. They wanted one as a display piece for their department about the founding of Hogwarts. As a result, I had the chance to visit the Slytherin Tree in America…It truly is a marvellous thing to behold! I had permission to remove a single branch from the tree and brought it back to England. Since it grew from the wand of Salazar Slytherin himself, it was perfect for making the replica. Not much is known of the original wand besides it being made of snakewood with a basilisk horn core…These are two ingredients that are nigh on impossible to come by these days, but I have certain…connections. The outside is snakewood from the Slytherin Tree, and the core is powdered basilisk horn. I ended up with enough resources to make two wands, so that's what I did. One went to the emporium, and I intended to keep the other myself for display. I never dreamed it would actually choose a wielder!" That made little sense to Gavin. Why would such a wand choose him as its companion? "I can only imagine that you must have Slytherin blood somewhere in your family line." Gavin almost snorted at the very thought.

"I don't think so…" He'd never been told about his mother, beyond the fact she was a pureblood, and knew very little of his family history. He'd even abandoned his family name in lieu of something simpler. On the Kamski side, he was quite certain there was no blood relation to Salazar Slytherin. But as a pureblood, I guess I can't rule it out. All purebloods must join up somewhere…There was only so many times you could marry between families before everyone was related somehow. That was one of the reasons he'd sworn off marriage. It helped that he wasn't attracted to women. That took him out of the breeding pool completely, not that he'd ever tell his father that. He'd throw a fit if he didn't get a pureblood heir from somewhere. Unfortunately, he wasn't having much luck with Elijah either.

"If this wand is anything like its forebear, you must! The wand of Salazar Slytherin was notorious for only accepting those of his direct lineage as worthy wielders." Gavin shrugged. He couldn't argue with wand lore. Ollivander surely knew best, but he still didn't really believe it. "In any case, it seems you have your wand…Best try it to be sure." Gavin nodded as he looked at the wand in his hand. He took a breath as he readied himself. If this was truly his wand, then there was one spell that would prove it. What if he doesn't come back? What if it's different this time? There was an almost anxious knot in his stomach as he closed his eyes and thought of all those summers he'd spent in Tina's family home. Cooking with her mother. Card games with her younger brothers. Practicing magic in secret where they wouldn't get caught. Learning to make muggle clocks with her father. Playing with the family cat. The first time he flew a broom. Graduating Hogwarts. Becoming an auror.

"Expecto Patronum!" He opened his eyes as wisps of silvery light leapt from the tip of his wand. He was worried at first. The wisps of silver became coiled, and he swore he saw the flick of a scaled tail. He almost ached at the thought that it might have changed with his wand, but as it took shape properly, he was relieved to see the sleek cat shake its head and stretch out its paws. He sighed in relief as he dropped to one knee and held out his hand. "Thank phck you're still here! You had me worried…" He could almost hear the familiar purr as the shining cat leaned in and nuzzled his waiting hand. He smiled at the familiar warmth on his skin from a being that was visible, but not quite tangible.

"That is quite remarkable! I don't think I've ever seen a Patronus so solid before!" Ollivander said as he watched the shining light press against Gavin's hand. Gavin gave him a smile, and the cat disappeared in a wisp of white and blue. Feeling reassured that his magic was intact and unchanged, Gavin bought the wand. It was quite expensive, though being made of such rare materials it was no surprise. Along with his wand, he bought a new holster. He wasn't an auror anymore, but having been one for so long, he'd grown accustomed to having quick access.

With that task finally complete, he returned to pick up his clothes, which were far better than he'd expected. The clerk hurriedly forced him into a new outfit to check his measurements and do a few final alterations. He was wearing a black shirt with a high collar that hugged his throat like a turtleneck. The edges were slightly ruffled, but not so much as to be annoying. She forwent the usual frilled cravat in lieu of the cat cameo he'd spotted earlier. Over the shirt, she insisted he wear a black and emerald striped waistcoat that hugged him in all the right places. Paired with this was a fine pair of black trousers and a new set of boots that were very much like his old ones. The leather of the boots was a nice matte shade rather than shiny black. The heels were barely an inch high, but they were quiet, allowing him to move as silently as he had before. To finish the look was a fine black frock-coat made of some sort of soft velvet that sat neatly on his waist and reached the top of his thighs. It was, perhaps, more finery than he was used to, but he had to look the part if he was going to work as a professor.

He also had a stock of other clothes. More black shirts, white shirts, extra trousers, shoes, black jackets, and even waistcoats. Enough for some variety in his day to day dress. Considering the amount of items, he was surprised by the price. He could almost swear she'd under charged him, but she insisted everything was in order. She even arranged delivery to save him carrying the large bundle. He ended up wearing his new outfit when he left the shop, being quite fond of the cat cameo at his throat. He had to admit he felt the part of an experienced professor in his new clothes. Guess all I have to do now is catch the express tomorrow…