Author's note: I have returned! Sorry for the long wait, I honestly have no excuse, just been focusing on other things, but I'm back now, both with a rewrite of my old story, and hopefully a better upload schedule.
Disclaimer: I Don't Own Any of the Characters in this story besides the MC.
Disclaimer 2: I take a lot of inspiration from other fanfictions from this website for this story, especially In Pursuit of Magic: A Self Insert by: Zero Rewind, Fate by: TheTrueSpartan, and Divine and Conquer by: Jolly Hippopotamus.
These works are far better than anything I have or will ever write so if you haven't already go check them out!
Severus Snape's POV
Severus Snape despised these outings. That's why he always made sure that he was 'busy' during this specific week of the summer, instead leaving this job to Minerva and Pomona. He even got away with it most of the time, as Albus knew better than to inflict him on unsuspecting muggleborns. But of course, Pomona had to get sick now of all times. If he didn't owe her a favour for procuring a large amount of Dittany for his potion ingredient stock, he would have told her to stuff it, ill or not. Thankfully, she and Minerva had finished the meeting with the majority of the incoming muggle-borns, leaving him with only a handful left.
Despite that, he had already dealt with entirely too many snot-nosed, stuttering, dunderheads this week, and it made him feel like the school year had started already, with the idiotic cretins swarming his lab and destroying it with their general incompetence. Mercifully, there was only one more before he was finally free of this irritating task.
Feeling a light sneer overtake his face, he approached Poplar Tender Home orphanage. The dilapidated, run-down building didn't give him any hope that this would be any different from the other 'meet and greets'. The building looked so worn down over time that he was a little surprised that people could even live inside of it. Moving through the gates, passing the multiple children playing in the yard, he walked up to the matron who was supervising them and before the matron could even ask who he was, he immediately nonverbally confounded her, which caused her to step aside.
After finding out that the child was currently residing in his dorm, he walked into the building. Looking back down at the letter, which held the location of the little child's room, he walked towards the room, where the door was slightly ajar, allowing some of the light from the hallway to enter.
Without knocking, he opened the door into the cramped room that was more akin to a large cupboard, and he felt his eyebrows raise up as he saw cutouts of newspapers lining almost every square inch of the back wall, which upon squinting his eyes slightly, he realised they were muggle pictures of a young child holding trophies and plagues for different mathematics and spelling competitions. Strewn across the floor there were numerous textbooks and novels, and while he couldn't see the titles of most of them, the textbook nearest to the bed did have a title that said 'Calculus, Third Edition". So not a complete Dunderhead then.
His eyes strayed from the cutouts on the wall to the boy himself. He felt his lips curl as he studied the dark-haired boy sitting on the bed pushed to the side of the room, who he could see was staring back, studying him as well. While the boy didn't exactly look underfed, his absurd height and broad shoulders made his limbs look gangly and his face slightly gaunt. Combining that with pale skin and sickly green eyes, he made for a rather uncanny appearance.
"Cole Walker, I presume", Snape snapped out, throwing the strange-looking child his letter.
"I am." the child said, his feet rolling back and forth on his heels while taking a more upright posture, his eyes scanning over the letter lethargically and even after finishing the letter and placing it on the side of the bed, his neutral expression barely changed, except he could now see there were traces of the amusement the child's face.
" I hope I'm not supposed to take this at face value." the child said, his lips twitching up and down, eyes alight in what Snape swore was anticipation.
Arrogant child. Snape sneered as turned to one of the cutouts lining the walls, and with a quick flick of his wand, caused the cutouts to go flying towards the door where they attached themselves to it, which in tandem with the movement of the cutouts slammed shut with an ear piercing bang.
"I hope that was sufficient enough for you", he drawled, and instead of seeing the accustomed awe and the rapid questions, the child simply grinned slightly and pointed his gaze back down to the letter, which caused his eyes to narrow in disbelief.
While he normally avoided this job like the plague, he had done it enough to know that calm acceptance was never the normal response. Ever.
"I can't pay for these supplies", he murmured, Severus now realized that the child was not maintaining eye contact with him, and seemed to keep his gaze slightly lower at all times.
If it weren't for Albus reprimanding him the last time he used Legilimency on a student, he would've commanded the strange child to look him in the eyes.
Alas, it was not an option, so, while watching the child's grin widen slightly, he was left wondering what was going on in his mind.
Cole Walkers POV
Holy shit, look at that fucking nose.
I mean god damn, I know he was described in the book as having a hooked nose, but that is an absolute honker.
No wonder Lily Potter friendzoned him.
It was a little weird staring at the man's nose instead of holding eye contact, but with this man in particular, It was an action that just held too many risks.
Even if there should be no reason for him to attempt to look through my mind, It was essential that this man, triple agent and overall bastard never looked through my memories.
'Could've had McGonagall arrive, or Sprout or hell even fucking Filch would have been preferable to Snape,' I grumbled in the confines of my mind.
I watched Snape's face for a reaction to my previous comment, but beyond mild irritation, he was as inscrutable as ever. "The supplies will be taken care of," he said curtly. "The school has funds set aside for such… circumstances."
I nodded, "And how do we get to this Diagon Alley?" I asked, trying to sound more curious than clueless.
Snape's lip curled ever so slightly. "We apparate," he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"Apparate?" I echoed, pretending to be unfamiliar with the term.
"It's a magical form of transportation," Snape explained, his tone dripping with impatience. "Hold onto my arm, and whatever you do, don't let go."
I did as I was told, gripping his arm firmly. There was a moment of tense silence, and then, with a sensation like being squeezed through a narrow tube, the world twisted and turned. When it righted itself, we were standing in a bustling, cobbled street lined with shops of all kinds, the air filled with the chatter of hundreds of voices and the peculiar scent of a world utterly foreign to me, adding to the already profound vertigo I was feeling.
"Follow me, do not dally, I will not wait", I heard Snape drawl and as I righted myself I saw that the dick had already started moving through the bustling crowd, not even turning around to see If I was fine.
Fucking Severus Snape, was literally every other faculty member in a coma or something?
Following Snape through the throngs of Diagon Alley was like shadowing a spectre. He moved with a purpose that parted the crowds, his black robes a stark contrast to the vibrant storefronts. The shops were a dizzying array of colours and sounds, each one more enticing than the last, alas according to Snape, we were on a tight schedule.
We stopped first at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. The bell above the door jingled as we entered, and I was immediately ushered onto a stool by the bustling witch. She fussed over me with a tape measure that moved of its own accord, while Snape stood to the side, his expression one of bored impatience.
Next was Flourish and Blotts, where the smell of parchment and ink filled the air. Snape handed me a list, and I gathered the textbooks, feeling the weight of knowledge in my hands. Each title was a promise of the secrets they held: Magical Drafts and Potions, The Standard Book of Spells, A History of Magic.
The Apothecary was next on the list, where Snape, the potion goblin he was, seemed at home among the jars of dried herbs and powders. He instructed me on which ingredients to collect, his voice taking on an odd note of approval when I recognized and correctly identified lacewing flies and powdered root of asphodel after having just peeked through One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.
I took maybe a solid 5 steps towards Magical Menagerie before one of Snape's hands hanked me back, and with the same perpetual look of irritation on his face, informed me that Hogwarts would provide me with the service of their owls and that I had no need to own one myself.
That was a bit of a bummer, but the next stop was far more exciting than all the other things combined.
Ollivander's Wand Shop. The sign creaked gently in the breeze, the building looked old and decrepit when compared to the vibrancy of the surrounding stores. As I stepped forward towards the door, I realised that Snape was not following, and when I turned to him with a questioning gaze, he replied to my unspoken question.
""Acquiring your first wand is a particularly intimate process which is best done in private" he drawled, his foot tapping impatiently.
Nodding wordlessly, I stepped into the store.
If the shop looked old on the outside, then the inside of it looked positively ancient. The store was littered with thousands upon thousands of wand boxes haphazardly laid atop of one another, piled so high they were almost scraping the ceiling. The room felt slightly ominous in a way and there was a strange low humming noise protruding throughout the room, so soft you had to focus deeply to hear it.
I idly stared at the piles of wands and wondered if the wands were communicating with one another in some way. The wands in J. K. Rowling's world were stated to have some form of sentience, after all the wand chooses the wizard. But in the seventh book, the concept of the right of conquest was added as an exception to that rule. How does beating a wizard in a duel make the wands want to transfer ownership? Do they think that if you can disarm their owner, you are more worthy than their previous owner? If magical power and skill are some types of factor to wands, then why don't they refuse to be attracted to anyone except the strongest? Why do wands-
"Ah, another arrival" A voice came from my left, making me jump and let out a curse. "Here for your first wand, I presume."
"Cole Walker," I said, after spending a moment composing myself from the jump scare, extending a hand towards him, which he accepted. "I'm assuming you're Ollivander, correct? And yes I'm here for my wand"
"Indeed I am Mr Walker, now please hold out your wand arm."
I held out my left hand while he procured a measuring tape from somewhere and came to circle me, taking every measurement possible.
He then disappeared towards one of the piles of wand boxes, ruffling through them with no apparent rime or reason before picking a wand box and walking back towards me.
"My wands possess one of three fundamental cores, Mr Miller, unicorn hair, dragon heartstring and phoenix feathers."He explained while taking the wand out of its box. "This one here is made with oak wood and Dragon heartstring"
I held the wand in my hands for about five seconds before it was snatched from my hands and a new one was in my hands.
"Holly and Unicorn hair unicorn hair, 12 inches very-", he didn't get to finish his sentence before the wand shot out of my hand like a bullet, smacking itself against the wall across from me.
We both stared in disbelief before he turned to me and said, "Well this might take awhile.", he said, a bemused expression on his face.
And boy was he right about that. I lost track of time quickly, as every failed attempt at finding a wand that matched me failed. It all began to blend and the encounter I came into looking forward to the most swiftly became a monotonous experience.
It was clear that even Mr Ollivander was at his wit's end at this point, returning from finding another wand at the very back of his shop,
"You're turning out to be a bit of a problem child Mr Walker", walking towards me with another wandbox. "But this wand has something of a similar nature as well. Aspen and Dragon heartstring, 13 inches."
"Ok, and how does that make it any different from the others?" I asked, feeling confused and a little irritable after so many failed attempts.
"It is both a rare and volatile combination for a wand", Ollivander said, removing the wand from its case, held in one hand gingerly, as if it would attack him. "While all the cores have their advantages and disadvantages, In terms of raw magical output, Dragon heartstring is the most powerful core, and Aspen is considered to be one of the rarest wood types because of its unique white colouration and has a tendency to produce powerful Duelists. While such a potent combination of materials results in an incredibly powerful wand, it also causes it to have a rather prideful personality. It is an exceptionally picky wand and accepts no one but those with great combat potential. However, in the rare case that it finds a suitable owner, you will be hard-pressed to find a more all-rounded and formidable wand."
I nodded at the explanation and took the wand from him.
Immediately I could feel a strange warmth course through me, the wand held firmly in my grasp glowing with luminescent light. I heard Ollivander let out a light gasp but ignored it in favour of staring down at my wand. Honestly, it felt more like I was holding an extension of my arm rather than a wand, as strange as it sounds. It was like I had been missing a piece of myself for these eleven years, only now just gaining it. The warmth spread up my arm, and I felt a surge of energy that seemed to resonate with the very core of my being. The wand's glow dimmed, settling into a steady pulse that matched my heartbeat. I looked up at Ollivander, who was observing me with a mixture of satisfaction and curiosity.
"It seems we have found a match at last," Ollivander remarked, his voice tinged with relief. "That wand is not easily swayed, Mr. Walker. It has chosen you, and that is no small feat."
I couldn't help but feel a swell of pride. "It feels… right," I admitted, still marvelling at the sensation of the wand in my hand. "Like it was made for me."
"Indeed, it may very well have been," Ollivander mused. "Wands are curious objects. They are more than mere tools; they are partners in magic."
I nodded, understanding the weight of his words. This wasn't just a piece of wood and a magical core; it was a companion for my journey ahead.
As I prepared to leave the shop, Ollivander's voice stopped me. "Remember, Mr. Walker," he said, his gaze piercing, "that wand does not take kindly to indecision. It requires a firm hand, a clear mind, and a resolute heart. Even more important than that, to fully unlock its potential, a man must hold grand aspirations, for only those unchecked ambition will ever hold the full allegiance of an aspen wand."
I met his gaze, feeling the truth of his words resonate within me. "I understand," I replied, a newfound determination settling in my chest. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander."
With a nod of respect, I turned and stepped out of the shop, the wand secured in my grasp and a future full of possibilities stretching out before me, quite literally in the case, as I was back to standing in the beating heart of the magical world, a place that full of lazy cowards who wasted a gift that essentially made them gods among men.
'Uncheck ambition huh", I mentally snorted, feeling my lips curl in amusement at the statement, my eyes lowering to the wand still held tightly in my grasp. 'If that's what you like, then you and I shall be the best of chums'.
For this world was my oyster, and I would seize it with both hands, leaving no pearl of opportunity unclaimed.
Disclaimer 3: I am entirely motivated by praise and affection, So favouriting, Following, and reviewing make me far more inclined to update the story. Although if time permits I should be back with another chapter in a week or two regardless.