Surprise! Another chapter with a wait only a little over a week? Who is she? (A stressed college student who didn't want to study so did this instead). I hope you enjoy this incredibly long chapter.

Chapter 7

Ron was nervous. He had been in Saint Mungos for a week now. He was allowed to write owls and yet he heard nothing from his two best friends. He knew it was unlikely to hear anything from Harry but he was concerned at the lack of news from Hermoine. Something was off, he just couldn't place his finger quite yet on what.

He also felt different. His head felt lighter like there was a weight that he didn't even know was present. Looking around the sterile white room of Saint Mungos, Ron felt a small smile of relief overtake his features as a healer came in.

"Ah good! You're awake and well! Wonderful! Well, Mr. Weasly, my name is Healer Greengrass and I am your primary caregiver at the current moment as your previous healer had to step out for a moment. You are now plenty stable and are ready for visitors if you are up to it. In fact you have one here now," The Healer said, flashing Ron a reassuring smile. "Would you like for me to let your mother enter?"

"Ummm- sure?" Ron said.

The healer nodded then exited the room. The calming silence that had settled into the room was quickly interrupted by the loud screeching of his own mother.

"Ron!" She called.

Before Ron could register that his mother was in his room, his vision was obscured by a large sea of bright red curls.

"My baby! You're ok!"

Ron simply hugged his mother, wrapping his arms around the woman and burying his head into her shoulder.

"Ya mom, I'm ok." he murmured to her.

Molly sniffled slightly, pulling her head back and holding her son's face in her hands.

"We were so worried, Ronald." she said quietly before planting a kiss on his forehead.

Then so fast that it almost gave Ron whiplash, he was being slapped silly by his mother.

"What were you thinking?!" She screeched, each word being emphasized by a slap on the arm. "Running off to the ministry? Fighting Death Eaters? You could have died! Did a single thought enter that big head of yours before you decided to run off with your friends to go fight grown wizards?"

Ron winced slightly before going quiet. When his mom put it that way, it was pretty bad but he still couldn't bring himself to regret what he did.

"I don't regret it mom," he mumbled, just loud enough that Molly barely caught the mumbled words.

His mom just sighed. "I feared that you would say that. But Ron, you, Harry and Hermione are in over your heads. You should have alerted the adults that-"

"Cause that has worked so well before," he shot back. Memories of running to his mom, saying that they needed to get Harry out of the Dursleys, going to McGonagall and Dumbledore with his concerns during second year and at the end of every school year flooded his mind. All of this information was new, and he knew then what had happened. Dumbledore. He had suspected, many times before he had his memories removed, but had never been sure. Now he was and he could only hope that Harry was ok.

"Mom, Harry has never had adults in his life that he could trust. His Aunt and Uncle abuse him and his parents are dead. Sirius-" he choked, the implications of the man's death fully setting in. He was Harry's last chance. The last door that has so cruelly been thrown shut in his friend's face. "He has nobody, cept me and Hermoine."

Molly looked resigned. Eyes downcast and almost ashamed. "Ron, surely it's no-"

"Not that bad?" Ron sneered, shocked at the venom in his own voice. "Not - that -bad," he mocked. "Then the fact that he's as thin as a stick when he gets back from the summer isn't that bad. That he can't be touched without flinching, even when warned, that he doesn't eat till everyone else is almost done. That I KNOW he's smarter than he pretends to be but holds back. That he curls in on himself if someone so much as raises their voice in his direction. That he was supposed to be in Slytherin but was so desperate to have people who liked him that he went into the wrong house?! How is any of that 'not that bad' mom? Harry was abused, point blank but you and the other adults patted his cheek and sent him on his way!"

Molly looked like she was going to be sick. She was shocked and enraged by the tone her youngest son had taken with her yet couldn't find it in herself to reprimand him, not when it was in such valiant defense of his best friend.

"I-" she started. "Dumbledore said he was safe," her voice small, denial dripping over every word.

Ron scoffed as he laid back on his pillows. "Dubledore doesn't know shit. He's a manipulative lying bastard that alters people's memories to suit his needs. I bet I won't remember this in about a week," Ron said, anger lacing his voice.

Molly opened her mouth in response but she was cut off as a nurse came bustling into the room.

"Ah Mr. Weasly, good to see you awake," the nurse said with a small smile. "I have an owl for you here. And mrs. Weasley, may I speak with you out in the hallway for a moment."

Molly nodded as she exited the room behind the nurse. Ron watched the form of his retreating mother before he turned his attention to the letter that now sat in his lap. He felt relief flutter within him as he recognized the handwriting of one Hermoine Granger.

Ron,

I hoPe you are doing well. I believe your brothers gAthered your belongings from HogwartS, but I would double check, just to be sure. Anyway, I do hope your recovery iS going Well. I was able to go back and grab my things but I didn't catch sight of Harry till the platform. He looked Off but I supposed that to be expected. Anyway, I've talked with my paRents about the possibility of coming to visit but they Don't seem thrilled, not that I blame them. I hope to see you soon and please get better fast.

Your Friend, Hermione.

Ron smirked as he read the letter. PASSWORD was in plain sight. The code was in perfect form. It always was. The trio had dealt enough with the alterations of Dumbledores that they had to create a way to identify when the others were clean.

He held the letter to his lips, breathing the words that three eleven year olds had found rebellious but sadly necessary and now that three teens found hilarious and relieving. "Bite my ass," he whispered into the letter. He watched as the entire letter shifted around.

Ron,

I can't believe it. He did it again but worse this time. I'm terrified for Harry but when I brushed past him on the platform he seemed - different. I hope he broke through the spells this time. I miss our Harry. I miss the real you too. I'm trying to visit, but it might be too dangerous. I need to get in touch with Gringotts and see if there is a way to prevent this from happening again. I'm sick of it Ron. Sick of it. I just want Harry to be happy but here he is being used like a pawn. I'll keep in touch but please burn this letter, I know you know why.

Take care of yourself and bite my ass -

Mione.

Ron smirked before finding his wand on the side table.

"Incendio," he murmured, pointing his wand at the letter. The parchment went up in a small burst of flames.. He watched, a small smile on his face knowing that if he and Hermoine remembered at the same time, then they could get to Harry. He just needed to get out of this stupid hospital.

Watching as her owl flew off into the distance, Hermoince boiled with anger. She was going to kill Albus Dumbledore. She knew there was a risk in sending Ron a letter but it was something she had to do.

She sighed as she turned her back to the window and headed further inside her room.

"Hermoine," she heard her parents call. "Come down here please."

She nodded, heading through her door and down the stairs to the living room.

"Hey mom," Hermoine greeted.

"Sweetheart, there is someone here at the door for you."

Narrowing her eyes, suspicion filled every step as Hermoine walked towards the door. With one hand on her wand, she rounded the corner to the entrance hallway. Her eyes went wide and it took every inch of her to hold back the scream building in her throat. Pointing her wand at the two men with a speed that surprised even her, she sneered at the men.

"Out. Now" she demanded. However things weren't adding up. Normally, if this is who she thought it was, she wouldn't have a chance to tell him to leave, she would be dead. Her parents wouldn't have called to her and their screams would have alerted her to the presence of the dark wizards.

She saw the younger of the two men that now darkened her doorstep widen his eyes, as if realizing some crucial point of information.

"Moine, please," the younger one begged.

She kept her wand pointed straight at the two, her eyes narrowing in confusion.

"Who do you think you are, calling me that," she bit out, still wondering why she was talking and not firing spells.

"Mione, it's me. Harry," the younger one said.

A scoff escaped her lips before she could help it. "Likely story," she sneered.

The boy sighed as he looked at the older man with an apology in his eyes. He turned back to his friend.

"Bite my ass," he said with complete seriousness.

Hermoine felt her eyes widen. "H-Harry?" she stuttered, shock still coursing through her veins.

The younger one, Harry, her mind whispered, nodded. "May we come to Mione, please? There's a lot that has happened that I need to talk to you about."

Hermoine nodded, inviting the two men in. As she did her mind wondered if she had just invited the death of her and her family into the house.

Two days earlier

Matias looked around the massive entrance hall of the building that he now calls home. His body was filled with nervous energy as he kept playing with the dark green robes he was currently adorned in. He straightened up as he was joined by another presence.

":Matais, are you ready?:", his father hissed, the sharp parseltongue somehow sounding kind.

Matias responded with a simple nod, and stepped towards his father, following him into the fireplace in the entrance hall. He grabbed a small amount of floo powder and tensed up as the green flames consumed his vision.

He squinted his eyes as he adjusted to the sudden darkness of the small pub. Matias followed his father through the pub before promptly being blinded by the bright sunlight.

The two men walked through the now open gateway of the pub and into the bustling alleyway.

Tom looked behind him to make sure his son was still following. He slowed down slightly so he was right beside Matias before leaning down a little to level himself with his son.

": Keep your eyes open and be very aware. I'm sure that Dumbledore is looking for you in both forms currently as he can take no risk now:" he hissed.

Matias nodded his head before slipping his wand into hand on instinct. He was immediately met with a sharp shake of the head.

":Matias, we haven't gotten you evaluated for wand use yet:" his father reminded him. ": You could kill yourself with that wand.:"

Internally facepalming, Matias slipped the wand back into the holster currently on his arm. The two moved quickly through the alley and soon reached the clothing shop that Matias had visited a couple days earlier.

"Mrs. Parkinson," Matias called out.

Tom scanned the small shop, silently approving of the choice of shop that his son had made, probably at the advice of the Goblins. He stiffened slightly at the name that his son called out, the knowledge that his return to normalcy and possibly full power would not stay secret for long after this meeting, rushing through him like ice.

He already was making mental preparations to be able to deal with the fallout of this revelation when the matriarch of the Parkinson family walked into the room.

"Ah Mr. Shafiq!" Donna Parkinson said hap[pily upon noticing Harry. "Wonderful to see you again. Your order is completely ready! Allow me to-" she trailed off, finally having noticed the other man occupying the shop.

Donna felt a rush of cold fear mixed with awe run through her body. The younger of the two men was close to how her Lord had felt in the older day, hence the confusion upon their first meeting. However, Donna was now sure without a doubt that this was her lord.

The older man stood tall and regal, a sense of nobleness seemed to roll off of him. Her magic began to move around, excited to finally be in the presence of a true Lord of Magic. THIS was the power of the Dark Lord, she thought to herself. Not the ability to cast spells so powerful people have died trying, but the ability to wrap pure magical power around himself like a cloak and not feel the effects.

"My Lord," she said, voice soft but confident. "It is an honor to have you in my shop."

Tom smirked at the instant recognition, his magic humming as one of his subjects bowed to him. "Rise, Lady Parkinson. I can feel the Magic in your shop, bold, but I am glad you have not abandoned the olde Ways." He said.

Donna practically beamed at the praise. "Thank you, my Lord. How may I help you today?"

"I'm here with my son as we shop around the alley," Tom replied, a lazy hand gesturing to Matias.

Matias turned to glare slightly at his father, more out of embarrassment than anything. He had purposefully told the woman a different name but oh well.

Tom simply quirked an eyebrow at his son that seemed to say, welcome to your birthright.

Donna on the other hand was reeling. She had just made clothes for the son of the Dark Lord, the Dark Prince, the rumor called him. The lost son, the wipers said. For years after the horrible attack on the manor, many grieved the Dark Lady but they also grieved the existence of the greatest gift that Lady Magic could have given them, an heir to the dark.

"My Prince," she murmured reverently. "My Lord, this- this is incredible. Lady Magic has truly blessed us."

"That she has Lady Parkinson," he said. "However, we are here to pick up my son's clothes. We have quite a busy day ahead of us and we will need to get going, However, keep your ears open in the correct circles going forward," he hinted. \

Donna understood the advice before hurrying to the back of the store to grab the large packages of custom made clothing.

"Here you go," she said, levitating the numerous packages over to the father son duo. "I hope everything is up to your satisfaction."

Tom looked at his son with wide eyes, "You bought all of this?"

": well in my defense I had no high quality clothes and I was terrified that you were still about to murder me so I decided to spend a bit of money. Merlin knows that we have enough of it:" Matias hissed in annoyance.

Tom smirked at his son's annoyance and tried to ignore the pang of guilt that flashed through him at the idea of killing his own son.

Matias rolled his eyes slightly at his father before putting a large smile on his face as he reached for the many packages of clothing. However his father beat him to it as he grabbed his wand and shrank the packages down and put them into his pocket.

"We thank you, Lady Parkinson. May your magic flow out," the dark Lord said.

Donna bowed slightly before wishing the duo goodbye.

The two men stepped out of the shop and into the sun filled alleyway.

"Matias, follow me please," Tom said.

His son nodded his head and took off after his father, having to lengthen his stride in an attempt to keep up. He was grateful for his new longer legs and overall increased height so he was able to keep up with father without having to break into a light jog.

The two quickly traversed the alley and went into the small branch that Matias had only ever been once before, Knockturn Alley. Matias was surprised at the sharp drop in temperature as his head began to hurt at the influx of dark magic. The sensation that he now recalled feeling in Lady arkinson's shop multiplied to the point of pain. As the headache worsened his sensitivity to the magic increased, cause his sight to activate. He cried out in pain at the sight of aloof the magic, immediately collapsing in on him self.

The Dark Lord whipped around the moment he heard his son's small cry of distress. He looked on in shock at seeing his son doubled over in pain.

"Matias," he called, quickly guiding his son out of the street and into a small minor alley. "Matias, what's going on?"

"Bright," Matias whispered. "Loud"

The two meek whimpered shot fear through Tom however he quickly strengthened his shield, this was no time for any emotions. Tom nodded in understanding even though he knew his son couldn't see the action.

Casting a quick silencing ward, Tom looked back at his son, at least expecting for his son to be able to take his hand off his ears. IOf anything the ward made Matias clutch his ears tighter and shrew his eyes shut further.

It took two long seconds before Tom figured out what was happening. "Shit," he hissed out, immediately dismantling the ward. He reached down and picked his son up. He wrapped his arm under the boy and helped him walk toward a shop that was luckily only a few doors over from the alley. Tom quickly ushered his son inside the dingy looking store before calling out.

"Burke, it's me. I need your ritual room now!" the Dark Lord shouted out.

A scraggly looking man emerged quickly from behind the counter.

"My Lord I-"

"No time," Voldemort bit out. "I need that room now, and it better be cleansed properly," he threatened.

"Of course my Lord,." Burke said, opening the way for the taller man to get behind the counter and opened the door for the two men to the basement.

Tom almost growled in frustration at how slow his son was, even though it wasn't his fault, just wishing that he could use a levitation spell to make this easier on his son, but no. Any magic cast around his son right now could cause serious damage.

The two quickly reached the bottom of the staircase and Tom slammed open a nondescript door. He got himself and Matias into the room before slamming the door on the atrium chamber.

As gently as he could, he put Harry inside the main ritual chamber while he changed into the cloth shirt and pants provided. He smiled a little at the fact that his old manager still left true ritual attire down in the basement. He quickly put his cloak, wand and any other magical items on his person in a small bin before making his way into the main chamber. He helped his son remove his magic saturated clothing as well, taking any magical item of his out of the chamber. As soon as all of the largely magical items were out of the room, his son fell asleep, exhausted.

Tom sighed in relief as he allowed himself to relax and sat down on the floor, pulling his son into him so he could run his fingers through his hair. Matias seemed to instinctually lean into the touch.

He gently brushed his magic against Matias's and sighed in relief when he found that his magic began to soothe his son's instead of aggravating it further. The two sat in silence for about an hour, and just as tom was starting to grow restless from uncomfort he felt his son begin to stir from where he lay.

He looked down as Matias's face pinched together at the last remnants of pain.

"Matias," he said, voice incredibly soft. "Are you awake?"

The only acknowledgement he received was a slight groan at being awake again. Tom laughed lightly.

"So, are you ok to sit up?"

Matias nodded, reluctantly pulling himself up. He felt himself go red when he realized that he had been sleeping in the lap of his father, who happened to be a dark lord.

"Sorry," he mumble, rubbing his eyes.

"No apologies necessary Mayias," his father said. "Why didn't you tell me that you were magic sensitive and could see and hear magic traces?"

Matias only shrugged in response. "I didn't remember, honestly." He said, sounding sheepish. "Your magic is soothing and the manor is the same way. It's clean, I guess. Diagon is ok because it's somehow less? But knockturn sucks. The dress shop was nice," he added.

Tom nodded as his son described the feeling associated with the different locations, already drawing a better conclusion as to why his son had reacted so intensely to the Magic of Knockturn.

"I think I know why that is," Tom said hesitantly. "The Manor and my magic is family magic, it will mostly only ever be soothing for you. Diagon is old but mostly devoid of tragedy. It's been drenched in a chaotic mix of magic yes but overall the whispers you would hear are probably positive. Knockturn on the other hand is the opposite. The magic is dark, tainted with the blackest of arts. Things not even I dared to touch."

That statement earned Tom a question glance but otherwise Matias was deeply enriched in the mini lesson.

"I would assume that the more tainted and loud the magic is, the worse it is for you as it is unnatural," Tom finished.

"Ok…" Matias agreed cautiously. "Could we ummm look into this more?"

Tom smiled reassuringly. "Of course, my son. I'm sure that the Slytherin Library has something on the the meantime, we do still need you to be able to go through the alley. Would you allow me to cast a couple of spells to block your senses until we return home?"

Matias nodded in agreement before feeling the magic wash over him. He sighed in relief at the comforting magic and as he head stopped pounding. The world went quiet, even though he felt like he could still hear perfectly. His eyes sagged in relief as it was like a pair of sunglasses had covered them, filtering out the even minimal input of magic.

Matias finally felt comfortable enough to survey his surroundings. He shot a questioning look to his father when he realized neither of them were in the clothes they had come in and that he didn't recognize the stone chamber.

"We are in a ritual chamber at my old work place. They have to be cleansed of all magic before each ritual so it was the closest place that contained little interference," heis father said, answering his unasked question. "We are in ritual attire due to our being saturated by magic. The minimal amount of magic you were surrounded by the better as you recovered from over-stimulation."

Matias once again nodded in understanding before rising to his feet, eyes the robes that could be seen through a window.

"Want to try and go shopping," Matias asked hesitantly.

Tom smiled at his son. "Only if you feel comfortable."

"I do," he assured before walking out of the ritual chamber and into the rooms with his and his father's clothes. He quickly changed and sighed in relief as his head stayed in its pain free state and his ears stayed quiet.

"Any feedback," his dad asked.

"None," Matias said, his smile able to be heard in his voice.

"Great, let me know if you start to see or hear anything again ok?"

Matias nodded as he followed his father up the stairs.

The older man watched his son with a keen eye as they emerged into the main portion of the store. The first real test of his spells. He saw no change in Matias condition and considered it a win.

"Thank you Burke," he barked out.

Matias's eye widened as he realized where he was, but he kept his snicker to himself.

"Of course, My Lord," the man said.

The father and son walked out of the store. Matias smiled in relief as he felt no change. The two walked through the dingy and dark alleyway, looking like it was nighttime despite it being the middle of the day. After a short walk the two arrived at another small store.

Derrick's Wands and Pointy Objects

Matias laughed at the name before following his father inside. Upon entering, the two were immediately greeted by a sharp looking man, dressed immaculately in a suit with his cuff rolled up to his elbows. His hair was a dark brown and fell down his forehead in messy bangs. He had a wand in a holster on his left forearm that conveniently overed the now dark and alive black tatoo that resided there. He had a dirty towel slung over his shoulder and his face was dirtied with what looked like polish smeared across it.

"My Lord," the young looking man said reverently. "What an honor."

"Ahh Derrick. I come here to give you a great honor."

The young man's eyes widened in surprise before he immediately bowed his head again, grabbing the towel off his shoulder as he did so.

"My Lord, what have I done to deserve such an honor."

The Dark Lord smirked as he observed the young man, who only had to be a few years older than Matias himself.

"Derrick, you may call me Tom, we have talked about this," the Dark Lord saud, exasperation clear in his voice.

Derrick smirked before bowing …. Again. "Why of course," he paused. "My Lord."

Tom sighed as he shot a small cutting curse towards the wandmaker, who expertly dodged it.

Derrick let out a laugh that instantly put Matias at ease around the man.

Derrick finally focused on the Matias and let out a small gasp. "Tom- this- I-, you found him?!"

Tom smiled as he nodded. "Matias, meet Derrick. He was a dear friend of your mothers and later became a close acquaintance of mine. He's the go to wandmaker for all people in the dark sect."

"Nice to meet you sir," Matias said, extending his hand out to shake.

Derrick tossed the rag into his left hand and grasp Matias's hand in his right. "Pleasure to meet you, young Prince. Your Father here is quite the man, one of the best Dark Lords this world has ever seen," he said.

"I'm beginning to see that," Matias admitted.

"Were you the Potter kid?" the wandmaker suddenly asked.

Matias felt his blood run cold. "I- um," he stammered. He stopped when he felt his father's hand gently clasp his shoulder.

"Derrick," his father said, the warning clear in his voice.

"Whaaat-" the wandmaker drawled. "I can sense his wand from here. Twin to your first abomination and I can still sense the residue from his scar. It was probably removed in the cleansing but stuff like that will leave a stench let me tell you," he said, heading behind the desk.

"Anyway, I'm assuming you're going to use this to your benefit. You always were a sneaky bastard Tom."

"We are here for a wand, Derrick," his fatherbit out.

"Why of course. I thought you were here for my fabulous company. But enough of that. Little Riddle, come with." the man said over his shoulder, walking into the back of the store.

Matias looked at his father, asking permission. Tom nodded before leaning down to whisper in his ear, "if he tries to bite you just sprinkle him with some of this," he said, slipping a bottle of water into his hand.

Matias's eyes narrowed as he finally made the connection. He nodded to his father before moving after the wandmaker.

"So Matty, I can call you Matty right? Great!" he rambled off, not waiting for a response from Matias. "You need a wand. If you could come over here," he said gesturing to the bench he was presently sitting at.

"How do-," Matias trailed off, confused at the lack of wands.

"Olivanders, a fine wandmaker, if he actually made many wands. The man makes maybe 20 a year, at best. The rest of the wands in his shop were made decades if not centuries ago. I make my wands for you from scratch. Olivander makes his based on patterns then hopes each one will find a match like a prophecy or something. So come over here and we can get started."

Matias eyes the possible vampire closely before moving forward. He approached the table which now had 2x2 squares of wood littering its surface.

"Now reach your magic out, you should be able to feel which type of wood your magic works best with."

Matias focused as he directed his magic over the bench, eyes scanning the pieces. He squinted through the spells his father placed on him, able to see a light glow of magic. If he focussed he could see his own magic interacting with each and every peice, bouncing around till is finally settled on two different piece. The magic surrounding the two danced in a way that no other accomplished. He reached towards both before his hand was grabbed harshly.

He whipped his head to the wandmaker, yanking his hands out of his grasps.

"Don't touch me," he said, voice a whisper yet commanding.

Derrick nodded slightly, as if this reaction was information he had been missing. "I'm sorry sir, but you were about to touch one of the most deadly woods there are without it being tied to you, you could have died."

"Oh," Matias replied dumbly.

"Oh indeed. You Riddles, always picking the most deadly items for your wands. You dad almost killed himself too, way back when," he murmured.

"You knew my dad when he was younger?"

"Oh yes I've" He stopped as he caught a glimpse of a small smirk on the teenager's face. "You sneaky bastard," he laughed.

"So, vampire eh?" Matias teased.

Derrick sighed as he sat down on a bench, two larger versions of Matias's chosen woods sitting on the table in front of him. "Yes, I am a vampire. And before you ask, I'm going on 500 years old, turned not born, and no I won't drink your blood."

Matias simply smirked.

"Damn you Riddle's. I swear your father got me the exact same way, except he was talking about Grindelwald and I of course let slip that "oh ya, I made a wand for his father," who of course had died before I looked like I should have been alive," Derrick said, voice light.

"Anyway, I need you to come join me at this table, it's core time," he said, cheer evident in his voice. The vampire waited for Matias to sit before pulling out his own wand. "I need to remove the charms that are blocking your magic-sight. Are you ok with that? Your dad can put them back on later and everything in here should be pretty dull and the shop itself is kept neutral."

Matias nodded in agreement, hands clenching in preparation for possible pain. He felt magic wash over him and cautiously opened his eyes. He was pleased when he was just able to see small glows around the room, nothing too bright.

"I'm good," Matias said, beginning to observe the wand cores laid out in front of him.

"Wonderful, this will make everything much more simple as you need only to look at the different dore to decide which one you want."

Matias nodded as he looked over the table once more. There were some cores that he immediately dismissed. Either they were too dim, or they had an angry red glow. He turned towards a couple of prospective options before a strange looking core caught his eye near the back of the table.

It was a long piece of a white bony material. Matias could sense the danger practically oozing off of the object. It stood out from everything else. Its 'glow' was a shadow, absorbing the light around it. Matias had never seen anything quite like it.

Derrick followed the young teen gaze before sighing. Of course, he internally mussed. This kid is going to make me create what is quite possibly going to be one of the most deadly and powerful wands in existence.

The sigh brought Matias back to reality as he looked at Derrick whom had resignation written all over his features.

"Damn kid," he murmured quietly. "I have only seen a couple people in my lifetime, and that a long time, that have created a wand as dangerous as this one."

Matias felt his eyes widen slightly before he let out a small snort. "What is that then?"

"Your core is of course the interior venom supply of a Basilisk fang. Damn near impossible to acquire, it takes a highly skilled magizoologist or a potions master to extract the venom carrier from the tooth material. Damn dangerous too. Your old man was pissed when he figured out what it was and that he wasn't chosen by it," a small laugh making its way into the wandmakers voice.

"Well shit," Matias murmured. "I wonder if the draw I feel has anything to do with the fact that I was bit by Basilisk."

Derrick just barely managed to refrain from flinching in surprise at the words. "You were what?!"

"Bitten by a basilisk then healed with Phoenix tears right after," Matias stated, attention going back to his new core.

Derrick simply shook his head in response. "Well I have work to do, cause you just gave me the challenge of a lifetime."

Matias laughed at that as he left the workspace and headed out to the entrance to the store where his father waited.

"Did Derrick treat you well," his father asked, trying to veil his concern.

"He's brilliant dad," Matias exclaimed. "Apparently I have one of the most powerful and dangerous wands that he has ever created."

Tom laughed at that, gathering his things and heading to the door of the store. "Well considering that apparently, the creation of my wand almost destroyed half of the store, we shall see if this building is still standing by the time we get back."

Matias laughed, the sound making Tom's heart swell with joy. He could do this, he could be a parent, he could learn to love, and his teacher was right in front of him.