Disclaimer: The most valuable commodity I know of is information – Gordon Gekko
GLGG 02
Part Two of Odd Ideas # 190
The Grand Library of Alexandria was a disappointment. What had once been the greatest center of learning in the world had turned into a box to check on the privileged class' grand tours. Gilderoy's teeth clenched, how was he going to turn a tourist trap into the subject of a book?
"Where are all the old spell books, Gilderoy?" his charge asked innocently.
"Why don't we ask, Harry," he replied, hoping one of the librarians had a better answer than 'gone.'
"Oh, we still have all of them," the librarian they'd asked had replied, much to Lockhart's relief.
"Why aren't they out here?"
"No one wants to see them anymore," the librarian sighed. "They want to come a few grand relics on display, take their pictures, and be off. No one comes here to learn anymore."
"Take me to the head librarian," Lockhart ordered. "I think I see a solution to both our problems."
The head librarian, a woman that looked old enough to be Dumbledore's grandmother with a face set in a permanent look of disapproval, locked eyes when they entered her office. "What?" she'd demanded, closing the book in her hands. "Better be quick, I'm decades behind on my reading."
"Good afternoon. My name is Gilderoy Lockhart, I'm here to negotiate access to the library's secret collection on behalf of my charge," Lockhart said smoothly.
"What secret collection?"
"The one I intend to write about in my upcoming book; Harry Potter and the Library of Alexandria," Lockhart explained. "Should help drum up interest in the short term anyway."
The old woman's eyes flicked to his charge. "I'll have to consult with the council of librarians before approving, of course."
"There's a council of librarians?"
"It's right next to the secret collection and the forbidden archive," she replied dryly. "Upon careful consideration, they have decided to grant unrestricted access to the-boy-who-lived. Now, since this secret has gotten out we also feel compelled to grant limited access to trustworthy researchers."
"I assume the limits will expand depending on the size of the donation offered?"
"In theory," the head librarian snorted. "In practice everyone will get the same thing and they don't need to know otherwise."
"Wonderful," Lockhart enthused. It was so nice to work with a professional. "I believe we have a deal."
"I believe you'll have a more productive visit if I assign a dozen or so junior research assistants to you for the duration of your stay," the head librarian stated. "Make my library shine, Lockhart."
"I shall write that it is the greatest edifice of knowledge in the magical world," Gilderoy promised. "You'll have to hire a thousand staff members just to manage the line to get in."
The old woman snorted. "I'll be happy to get an extra two hundred a year that want to learn something. Now get on with it and let me get back to my reading."
"It will be a pleasure, madame."
"This way," the first librarian stated. "I'll show you to one of the reading rooms."
"Thank you," Gilderoy replied. "Come along, Harry, we've got learning to do."
To Lockhart's joy and the librarians' delight, Harry seemed to soak up new magic like a sponge learning spell after spell. Definite Ravenclaw, Lockhart mused, or perhaps not. He supposed he should talk to his editor to see about setting up focus groups to decide which house do direct his charge towards.
Lockhart's internal monologue was cut short by a loud rumble from his charge's stomach.
"I suppose that means it's time to get lunch," Gilderoy said with a grin. "What's say we see what the local area has to offer, eh?"
Pickpockets, was the answer, as they weren't six steps onto the street before is coin purse was lifted.
"Stop him!" Lockhart yelled, pointing at the fleeing thief. To Gilderoy's surprise, his charge did, hitting the cutpurse with one of his newly learned hexes. "Be sure to stun him too, Harry."
"Okay, Gilderoy," Harry agreed, putting the man out.
A smile bloomed on Lockhart's face, this was solid gold. He whipped out his notebook and began furiously writing as the authorities arrived to take the pickpocket into custody.
'Put yourself in my place, dear readers, helpless before the jackal of the desert, a blackguard whose crimes are well known to any who's traveled in the area. I need not ask what you'd have done, dear readers, for your actions would have mirrored mine. You would have placed yourself between your charge and the most notorious criminal alive and hoped that your death would buy your charge enough time to escape. The-boy-who-lived of course had other ideas and he showed again that he was a true hero by gently nudging me aside and fixing the jackal, the terror-of-the desert, with a look of such fierceness that the arch criminal's knees began to shake and the man turned and fled like all cowards when faced with overwhelming might.'
"Can we get something to eat now, Gilderoy?" Harry's voice drew the author out of his writing haze.
"Of course, Harry, what would you like?" he replied.
"That stall over there smells good," Harry ventured.
"Did the authorities return my coin purse?"
"Yeah," Harry replied. "I've got it right here."
"Buy as much of whatever you like then," Gilderoy said. "And one order of whatever looks the best for me."
"Okay," Harry agreed.
Where was he? Gilderoy's pen returned to the notebook. 'I do not recall my exact words, dear reader, for what happened next wiped them from my memory. The jackal, the most notorious criminal to curse the Nile river valley with his presence, shoved two fingers between rotted teeth into his mouth and let loose a shrill whistle and slowed his flight upon receiving several answering calls. Out of every dark alley emerged an army of thugs, come to aid their chieftain. A cruel smile bloomed on the jackal's face, a smile that was matched by a look of supreme indifference on that of my charge. You will recall, dear reader, my charge's vow to never be unprepared after rescuing me from the null in the first of our thrilling adventures. Well, my charge had made good that vow."
Gilderoy made a note to ask the librarians' advice on what spells to include in the hair raising battle. A smile bloomed on the man's face as he thought up a humorous scene to include.
'It was then that the arch-fiend's enforcer arrived. The creature, for if it had any human ancestry it had long since been subsumed by troll parentage, stood eight feet tall and clutched in its right hand was a sword longer than I. Black lightning traveled up the cruel hook like blade and an aura of fear and despair settled over the square. How I wished I could rush into a shop to seek the dubious safety provided by a barred door, dear reader, but I was locked into place by my loyalty to my charge and I knew that my charge would not run. I expected, as I'm sure you would have, an epic battle in which my charge would emerge victorious. What I got was a small snort of amusement from the boy and a hex that blasted the giant across the square. That incident, dear readers, cemented the knowledge that the-boy-who-lived has power far greater than that of normal wizards.'
"Here," Harry said, handing him a paper wrapped object. "They're called shawarma, they're good."
"Thank you, Harry," Gilderoy said, accepting the food. "What say we head back to the library after we finish eating? I've got some spells I need to look up."
"Okay," the boy agreed eagerly. "Do you think they'll be proud I was able to use that tripping jinx to catch a thief?"
"I think they'll be so proud they'll help me develop a whole new list of spells for you to learn," Gilderoy replied.
As it happened, the librarians were quite impressed by Harry's feat of heroism and more than willing to find a number of spells that would better prepare the boy for future adventures. In the end, Lockhart sent nearly two thousand pages of spells to his editor after they arrived in England to write the next book in the series.
Two weeks later, Gilderoy's fingers danced over his new typewriter's keyboard as he finished the manuscript for Harry Potter and the Secrets of Alexandria. A muggle device, yes, but one that more than made up for its unfortunate origin by how much it increased his writing speed after a bit of practice.
"Finished, Gilderoy?" Harry's voice called out from the other side of the room.
"Finished," he agreed. "Will you be alright with just the elf while I go meet with the editor?"
"Yes," Harry replied. "Why doesn't she have a name?"
"We're still waiting to hear back from the focus groups before we introduce her," Gilderoy explained. "I'm sure she'll have a name by the next book, Harry."
"Okay," the boy agreed.
Gilderoy arrived at his publisher and was immediately hustled into the head editor's office. He took that as a favorable sign on how well the books were doing, he took it as a better sign when his editor rose from his desk with a wide smile and greeted him personally at the door.
"Gilderoy, my favorite author, here to drop off our newest bestseller?"
"That and to talk about where to take our third," Gilderoy agreed. "Thought I'd talk to you about that before we made any firm plans."
"Have any vague ones?"
"Some place tropical," Gilderoy replied, hoping to wrangle a paid vacation in paradise. "Maybe the Caribbean or South America."
"What does our star think?"
"Harry's just happy to be learning things. Do you have any suggestions?"
"I do." His editor grinned. "I was thinking that the-boy-who-lived needs something better than an ordinary wand, something specially made to contain his power."
"Harry Potter and the Extraordinary Wand, maybe Harry Potter and the Wand of Heroes? Do we have a wand maker lined up?"
"Was going to go with Olivander, but he didn't want to pay for the product placement. Luckily, we were able to find a wand maker that understands just how valuable a mention in one of our books is and is happy pony up a few galleons to see their name associated with the-boy-who-lived."
"Harry's going to want to learn at least a little wand crafting," Lockhart cautioned. "And I'm going to want to see a percentage of each wand sale going towards our bank accounts."
"Not a problem for either issue. In fact, we've already got the plans for a paper wand that anyone can make themselves, burns out after a couple spells but it costs almost nothing to make so I don't think anyone will be too disappointed. That and whatever spells you learn on your quest will be perfect for volume two of Harry Potter's own Spell Book."
"I wasn't aware there was a volume one?"
"Mostly filled with the spells you sent back from the Library of Alexandria," his editor replied. "We beefed up the healing section with help from St. Mungo's and added a section on wards and curse breaking for the sake of completeness."
"Might be a good idea to get some time with a curse breaker or warder before we go off then," Gilderoy mused. "Harry's going to want to learn about both subjects after he learns they were in his book."
"I'll arrange everything," his editor promised. "Take two weeks for yourself while he studies and be back here eager to strategize the next book."
To Lockhart's delight, everything included tutoring from the finest warders and curse breakers available for Harry and a pass to the finest spa in the country for himself. Gilderoy experienced true bliss in those two weeks, the kind that can only be found through a perfect combination of saunas, hot springs, massage arts, chefs, and more delights than can be counted on both hands. It was, to him, a glimpse of what life would be like after he'd written a few dozen more books and was able to afford a life of luxurious retirement.
Gilderoy's two week visit to heaven passed in a flash and he found himself in a small wand shop in the corner of one of Diagon's many side streets in a meeting with its proprietor.
"Idabelle Adams," the woman introduced herself. "Ravenclaw, bout three years behind you."
"I'm afraid I was rather wrapped up in my own business while at Hogwarts, I'm afraid I don't remember you," Lockhart admitted.
"I didn't fill out enough for boys to start noticing me till after you left," she giggled. "Thanks for the admission."
"Honesty is the best policy when dealing with business associates," Gilderoy sighed. "Much as I sometimes with it were otherwise."
"Yup," she agreed cheerfully. "We're here to talk about a custom wand."
"Yes. Is there a test or something we can use to determine a suitable core material?"
"Yes, but it's not needed with the way I make wands."
"Oh?"
"Everything is composite. I mix several core materials to create something that works for just about anyone, same with the handle and the material of the wand itself."
"Interesting. We're going to want to match it to Harry as closely as we can, no matter how much time it takes."
"Marketing or for a real reason?"
"Yes," Lockhart snorted. "Making it special makes my job easier when it comes time to write this all up, also good for him to get every bit of extra performance he can."
"Works for me, main reason I'm doing this is to improve sales."
"Main?"
"I also want to drive Olivander to the point of bankruptcy so I can buy his business out from under him. We do not get along."
"I see. Perhaps it would be best if I were to replace the wand I got for Hogwarts with one of yours."
"You won't regret it, things are almost indescribable."
"Oh?"
"They're composite, like the cores. I wrap layers and layers of resin impregnated paper made from the pulps of a dozen different woods around the core and then I wrap a few layers of resin impregnated linen around that. Bake it and it creates a material called micarta."
"It's just paper wrapped with linen and glue?" Lockhart asked dumbly.
"Pretty much," the woman agreed. "Muggles use it all the time for all kinds of things."
"I'm sure you meant to say that it was a secret magical process that is so secret and magical that it is beyond the capacity for most to understand. Understand?"
"The gap between what I'm willing to tell you and what I'm willing to tell the public is very wide," the woman agreed. "It's in both our best interests to make it sound more exotic than it is."
Lockhart bit his lip as he tried to think of the proper way to put it. "The wand, as if such a simple word could encompass such majesty, was different from any other I'd seen. Not surprising as Harry is different from anyone I'd met before. It was not made of wood but instead made of a material called micarta developed specially to handle power levels the likes of my charge. Now, dear reader, you must deal with the disappointment of not knowing how the material is created as it is secret. But, thanks only to my service to the-boy-who-lived, I have been given special permission to share a few details revealed for the first and only time to the public," he said aloud as he wrote.
Gilderoy paused as he tried to find a glamorous way of stating that it was just resin infused linen and paper.
"First a composite of powdered wood from a number of specially selected trees is bound together into thin sheets and then those sheets are wrapped tightly around the core and the entire arrangement is impregnated with a mysterious substance, the exact nature of which is sadly beyond my comprehension. Then, it is sheathed in a fabric made of the finest materials that too is hardened in a secret process. It is then treated with a another secret process before being hand tuned to fit both the hand and magic of the welder. Fortunately, dear public, while the process itself is closely guarded, the wands themselves are not and are available to purchase from master wandmaker Idabelle Adams on Bell End avenue at startlingly reasonably rates."
"Sounds good to me," she agreed.
"Would it be possible to make the last layer a tight weave acromantula silk?"
"Should be," Idabelle agreed. "Why?"
"Because it's shockingly easy material to collect but it sounds like it would be both dangerous and difficult," Lockhart replied.
"Only issue I can see is that it might make it hard to grip."
"We'll wrap the handle in something else, sharkskin maybe," Lockhart mused. "Feel free to veto anything that would reduce the wand's power or utility. I can always state that something is confidential."
"Or outright lie if that would better serve," Idabelle agreed. "I think the two of us are at the beginning of a beautifully profitable relationship."
"Here's to our vaults overfilling," Gilderoy agreed.
AN: Turns out I had another one of these in me.
Some beta by Luan Mao
Omake: The End of Harry Potter and the Custom Wand
Lockhart stared at the last line for a few moments before rewriting it to be a bit more subtile. A quick footnote directing the reader to to one of the supplementary sections in the back with directions on how to produce a homemade wand out of a bit of paper, glue, and any core material which could, in an emergency, get the maker out of all number of sticky situations and another manuscript was complete.
Omake: Dumbledore
Dumbledore noted with pleasure the arrival of the advanced reader copies of Harry Potter and the Library of Alexandria and Harry Potter's own Spell Book, volume one. The old man laughed in delight when he got to the section of the first pertaining to the secret and forgotten sections of the library. He supposed that was one way of drumming up interest in learning. Offer someone the moon and they won't want it, tell them they can't have it and it becomes their heart's desire.
The second book was better than he could have hoped for. Lockhart had promised a tome full of 'long forgotten spells' and, from a certain point of view, had delivered. Albus decided that 'long forgotten' was a much better turn of phrase than 'long out of fashion.' The old man's smile deepened as he noted several spells he hadn't seen in years and was positively delighted to find a few that he was unfamiliar with.
His smile dimmed a bit when he noted another letter from Arabella Fig, this one more emphatic than the previous several about demanding to know the location of her charge. Age was one foe they all had to deal with, some better than others.
Albus wrote a reply stating that he had everything in hand, a quick glance at the instruments monitoring Harry had confirmed that, and conveying an offer to send her on a round the world cruse at his expense. Poor dear deserved a bit of happiness in her twilight years. He finished the letter with a promise that he would have someone trustworthy take up her monitoring duties during her absence. That finished, he jotted out a quick note to Minerva directing her to find a multi year cat friendly cruise, and another to himself to find out of Mundungus was free, before getting back to his reading.
Omake: Neville
Neville's teeth clenched and he took several breaths in an attempt to calm down. His uncle had endangered him again to try to force him to exhibit accidental magic and had failed again to produce a definite result. The boy knew that it was only a matter of time before the man tried again and was afraid, as always that one of the increasingly terrifying schemes would result in death or a serious injury.
Neville's eyes darted around the room, trying to find a solution to his problems. Nothing revealed itself and his eyes finally settled on his set of The-Boy-Who-Lived book series on one of the shelves in his room.
Harry Potter didn't have to deal with people who thought he was a squib, no one could doubt that the-boy-who-lived was one of the strongest mages alive. If only he could . . . a smile bloomed on Neville's face as he pulled down the third book in the series, Harry Potter and the Custom Wand. If his plan worked, he'd either be able to prove that he wasn't a squib and to make his uncle regret every one of his crimes, or he'd prove that he was and get to dealing with disappointment early.
The wand-making instructions in the back of the book were easy to follow and Neville was soon the proud owner of a temporary paper wand. An experimental wave caused it to immediately disintegrate into ash causing Neville's heart to sink, he must have done something wrong. Maybe he hadn't . . . Neville froze, he had magic. He had magic! The boy's joyful smile turned evil, he had magic and his uncle was going to pay.
Neville chuckled to himself as he began constructing another temporary wand.