Severus Snape was in a very foul mood.
Of course, he was usually in a foul mood but this one was special.
After a long day of teaching incompetent fools who barely knew the difference between a wand grip and the point, he had returned to his chambers to find the entire room covered in floor to ceiling in wisteria, slinky hack, and clematis.
The floor and furniture were glowing with ethereal light and covered in soft mosses, a fine layer of glitter over the entire thing, with thin interwoven branches speckled with honeysuckle concealing the ceiling from view.
His bed was made of willow, the curtains replaced by drooping branches that swayed in an invisible wind. A small stream trickled from his private potions lab, snaking through the glade floor, twining under his bed and into the bath chambers.
In truth, it looked like he wandered into Faerie and Snape knew, then and there, that this was going to be a very long year.
Something rustled to his right and he jerked back, his fingers bleeding as a tiny pixie, looking more like the ones in muggle myths than true pixies, grinned at him with bloody teeth.
A very long year indeed.
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Garrick Olivander was very old and had seen many things, and so, while everyone else, the judges, the reporters, the headmasters, and ministry officials were debating the best way to find Harry Potter for the Weighing of the Wands, Garrick simply opened a window and invited him to participate.
A black barn owl flew through the window, landing at Garrick's feet and growing to the height of the average ten-year-old.
"Prince," Garrick said, giving a slight nod.
The entire room fell silent, finally noticing the boy lounging in the window sill.
Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak but Garrick beat him to it. "My gratitude for attending the weighing of the wands. If your majesty pleases, will you stand with the other champions so we may proceed?"
Prince smiled, teeth still sharper than any human. "I have decided I like you."
"A great honor," Garrick said, inclining his head. While he normally didn't deal with fae personally when collecting his wand wood from faerie groves, his father taught still him the rules, just as his father had taught him.
Prince hopped off the window sill and made his way over to where Victor Krum, Fleur Delacour, and Cedric Diggory were waiting. "I am called Prince. May I have your names?"
The height difference would have been comedic is it wasn't for how tense everyone was, watching the fae move with unnatural grace, a deadly apparition that put everything in this world in stark contrast.
The French champion was the first to speak, her allure dialed down as not to offend. "You may call me Fleur Delacour, the Beauxbatons Champion." The beautiful blonde witch said, extending a hand that Prince took and lightly kissed.
"Enchante." Prince murmured, his already melodic voice doing wonders to the already musical language before turning to the next.
"You may call me Victor Krum. I am the Drumstrang Champion." The Bulgarian said, nodding his head in respect. "A pleasure to meet you, your majesty."
"And I you." Prince nodded before turning to the last champion.
"You may call me Cedric Diggory," Cedric said, taking a cue from his fellow champions. "Hogwarts Champion."
"I look forward to competing against such magically strong mortal mages." Prince grinned. "It shall be entertaining."
"Mr. Potter. Rita Skeeter here, reporter for the Daily Prophet if I might just have a quick word."
Prince turned and looked at the woman. "I admire your hair."
Rita blinked. "Why thank you, Mr-"
"It reminds me of the firey tribe who dwell within the Bog of Eternal Stench. Do you use silme condensate or rock gel?"
Rita blinked again.
"If you four are ready, we may begin," Olivander called.
The champions lined up, in the order that their name was called from the goblet.
"Rosewood, 9 and a half inches, and is this Veela hair?"
"One of my grandmuzzer's," Fleur confirmed.
"It seems to be working well," Olivander said. "Best of luck in the tournament."
Victor had a wand of hornwood beam and dragon heartstring and Olivander declared it in working order if a bit thick and rigid for his liking.
Cedric had a wand of ash with unicorn hair, surprisingly springy.
Then it was Prince's turn.
Everyone leaned forward to see the wand a fae used, the reporters raising their cameras.
Prince held out his hand and brandished a crystal ball. "I've brought you a gift." His grin widened with mischief as the room exploded into protests that surely the boy who lived did not use a crystal ball to perform magic.
Olivander chuckled and gently took the crystal, summoning a silk cloth and wrapping it carefully. "A beautiful gift, my prince. I shall display it next to the one your father gifted me with when your stepmother brought her brother to me."
Prince winked and vanished between one breath and the next.
Predictably, the room exploded into chaos once again.
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This book is even more beloved then my Guardian fics. It will never be abandoned, just wandering the 16 realms every so often.
CZYTASZ
The Goblin Prince.
FanfictionLily Potter was a seer, and a powerful one at that. Although her death was certain, the future of her child wasn't set in stone. After all, what is a man playing god compared to someone who could pass as one? And so, Lady Lily Potter, on that fatef...
