Harry Potter The Vampire Lord

Chapter 27

Harry pulled the cloak fast across his chest, his hands digging farther into his pockets in an attempt to stave off the extremely cold environment that Ollivander's Portkey had deposited them at. He could've used a warming charm on himself, as he was free to use magic outside Hogwarts courtesy of Perenelle, but he felt that the cold kept him mind focused and prevented him from thinking about other things. He was still bothered by the alternate persona that he sometimes saw when he practiced his Occlumency, and he had finally decided that this was something that Perenelle needed to know about. And while he was at it, he had also made the decision to inform her about his wandless abilities, meagre as they were; as well. Hopefully after coming clean to her, she would stop pushing him and the others for answers by deliberately antagonising them during the practice duels, though he didn't harbour much hope in that regard.

But, he had still refrained from telling her his deepest secret. The one thing, which had unnerved him to such a degree, that he had decided to take the drastic action to stop studying as he had. He wasn't about to forget the confrontation that had occurred in the depths of Hogwarts during his First year. The story that he had told Dumbledore, and by extension his friends left out the parts that he felt were something that he would take to his grave.

It shamed him to admit, even in his own mind; but he had been tempted, so very tempted to take Voldemort up on his offer. And maybe, maybe if he proved to be useful enough for him, he would bring back his parents. He had been young then, and everything that he read that first year when he was introduced to magic, made it seem like there was nothing that Magic couldn't do. Voldemort was the most powerful and knowledgeable Dark Lord that Britain had ever seen, so he had thought that maybe his parents could be brought back. But then, Voldemort had overextended his offer, he had complimented him.

'You remind me of myself, young Potter.'

That more than anything scared him the most. And then, he had been branded a murderer in his own conscience. A murderer at the age of 11. Harry stifled a snort at that thought and then concentrated on the here and now. He had brooded enough about this. He had promised himself that he wouldn't do so again.

Ollivander hadn't informed him of what exactly it was that he was supposed to help Ollivander retrieve, receiving a serious contemplative expression as the only response. To be perfectly honest, he was starting to get a little annoyed by his attitude, and the weather wasn't helping either.

Just as another cold wind drafted across his face and he prepared himself to ask Ollivander what it was that they were supposed to do here, Ollivander stopped.

"Lord Potter, what do you know of Murlocs?" Ollivander asked as he closed his eyes and twitched his fingers slightly, unaware of the annoyed look that Harry shot him for using his formal title while addressing him.

"I don't know much about them." Harry admitted "But, I do know that they live in extremely cold environments, usually in a group."

"True. But the most important fact that you need to know about them is that they are like hoarders. They like their treasures, and the bigger the 'family' that they call themselves part of, the more valuable their treasures."

Harry nodded mutely, not seeing where Ollivander was going with his explanation.

"And the treasure most coveted by Murlocs is what we are here for today." Ollivander elaborated.

"I assume that the treasure that you speak of is Organic in nature? Because as far as I know, only organic materials can be used in the making of a wand." Harry contemplated out loud, his curiosity rattling.