"—and that's Honeydukes. Best sweets. We can stop by there before we leave."
Sebastian had spent the morning giving you a tour of Hogsmeade before taking you to Ollivanders for your new wand.
When you had first arrived through the gates of the wizard village, you were surprised how busy the winding cobbled streets were. There were wizards and witches in a spectrum of robes in every colour. Cats weaved through people's legs and peered down at you from rooftops. You could see many Hogwarts students crowded outside shop windows—especially the one filled with broomsticks.
Sebastian insisted on keeping hold of your hand "so we don't get separated". While it made sense, you couldn't stop your face from burning as you passed a whispering—and pointing, cluster of fourth-year girls.
The shops in Hogsmeade turned out to be dangerously tempting.
Your Slytherin guide pulled you from shop to shop, giving advice about which magical products were useful and the best places for food.
After an hour, you and Sebastian stood outside Zonkos, looking at a display for trick quills that wrote dirty words randomly when used.
"How does it work?" you ask idly, watching with interest as the quill wrote fairly tame expletives on a parchment that then disappeared after a few seconds.
"Eh it's just a charm. It's their potions that are the real deal. They make some incredible stuff." he replied.
"That's right, Garreth told me that. Did you know he wants to design for them? Isn't that amazing?" you ask, smiling with a nose wrinkle at the word 'bollocks' on the parchment.
Sebastian rolled his eyes.
"Yup. Fascinating." he dismissed quickly. "Hey, let's go check out the bookshop, it's close to Ollivanders."
The word "bookshop" had you easily tearing your eyes from the quills to look up at him with delight, nodding excitedly.
"There we go." he breathed with a greedy smile, grabbing your hand and leading you through the thicket of Saturday shoppers to Tomes and Scrolls.
***
After leaving the bookshop, a long list in your head of titles you wanted, you turned your steps towards the wandmaker.
"I want to grab a gift for Anne. I'll meet you at Honeydukes after you get your wand—then maybe we can have a little drink at the Broomstick." he suggested smoothly. You gave him a tired look before smiling.
"Sounds delightful, Seb."
Walking into the wandshop you felt your skin vibrate with magic.
It was a cramped, cozy space stacked with thousands of small boxes. You saw a stooped little old man with a tremendous moustache behind the counter. He looked up when the bell rang, smiling warmly at you.
"Ah, hello my dear! Please come in, come in. I've been expecting you. You are the new Slytherin fifth-year aren't you? I'm Gerbold Ollivander."
You confirmed you were and introduced yourself, shaking his aged, yet surprisingly strong hand.
"Wonderful! Well, you are all set for a wand. Hogwarts provides a fund for students who need it and you have had bursary accounts set up with many shops in town, so we just need to find the wand for you. Please have a seat, I just need to have a look." and with a wave of his spindly wand, pulled a comfy chaise under you, a cup of tea smoothly tucked into your hand.
You smiled widely and thanked him as he left to search his shelves. You watched with curiosity as he tapped his fingers along the ends of the boxes, humming. He kept glancing at you then at the boxes, having some inner debate. After a few minutes he had six wands for you to try. You stood, you nerves spiking as you wiped your hands on your skirt.
"Here we are. So this is a 10 ½ inch Maple with a Unicorn Tail core. Very nice for defensive magic." and the kind craftsman handed you the wand.
You gripped the warm brown wand and tried to cast Lumos. It worked—but not very well. Mr.Ollivander tutted and gently took it from your hand.
"Not quite. Let's try again."
It was a few failed wands later that Ollivander opened a deep maroon box. Looking inside you felt your gut drop.
It was hers.
It was the identical elegant black wand that your Ravenclaw alter held in the memory.
Was it destined to be yours as well?
"This is a Blackfern wand, 8 inches—dragon heartstring core. It has a powerful nature—excellent for combat magic."
You felt a buzzing when the wand was handed to you—it did indeed feel powerful. You cast Lumos and had to shield your eyes from the dazzle as the room was bathed in a cold but blinding light.
"Well there we have it! I will—"
"Could I try another?" you interrupted before you could stop yourself. The aging wizard looked at you with surprise, readjusting his spectacles is confusion.
"Really my dear? But that wand gave a powerful response—it seems well suited for you."
You looked awkwardly down at the wand in your hand, rolling it in your fingers.
"I know—but, do you have any wands that are good for—creating?" you asked carefully, hoping this wasn't a stupid question.
The wizard gave you a cautious look before taking back the Blackfern wand. He returned a minute later with a canary-yellow box, now eyeing you with curiosity.
"This wand is made of arctic birch, unusual but effective. Still dragon heartstring but the core is made of the more delicate fibers. It's a little longer—more flexible than the Blackfern. It's interesting you asked about 'creating'—as this wand is excellent for transfiguration work."
You took the blonde-hued wand and felt a glowing warmth instantly—and a comfortable familiarity? You held it up and found yourself quite enchanted by the rustic vine pattern that was carved into the lacquered wood. The handle was made of a simple forest green marble, giving in a satisfying weight.
You cast Lumos.
While just as strong as the Blackfern wand, the light bursting from the tip felt more like—well, the Sun. Warm rays filling the dusty shop, reminding you of a summer afternoon.
"How utterly fascinating." muttered Ollivander.
You gave him a concerned look—worried for a moment that you may have offended him by asking for another wand.
"Is that alright? I really like this one."
The wizard's face broke into a grin as he nodded cheerfully.
"Oh my dear of course! I am just interested in the connection, that's all."
"Connection?"
"Yes, well—this wand." and he gently took it back from you to lay it in its velvet lined box. "Has a core made from the heartstring of a high-borne dragon. You see my dear, dragon heartstrings suitable for wands are very difficult to obtain. It cannot be taken from a slain dragon—it corrupts the heart and makes the material unusable as a wand core. The heart must be collected after a dragon has passed from old age—which is an extreme rarity in itself—but it's the only way to keep the magical properties stable. That is why they are so rare—wandmakers have to stalk and protect an aging dragon—sometimes for years—to get the heart.
Mr. Ollivander then bid you to follow him to the counter to sign a book to say you were taking the wand, before continuing his explanation.
"Once harvested, a heart can create about a dozen wands—though each heartstring—much like each heart, holds different intentions. The Blackfern and your Arctic Birch both have cores from the same noble Herbridean Black dragon, though your core is made from the more delicate strings in the inner chamber while the Blackfern is made from the coarser, outer strings."
You nodded with understanding as you signed your name.
"So there are other wands made from this dragon?"
"Indeed. This dragon's heart made eleven wands. Most have been sold either here or in Diagon Alley. Each had a different strength—a different intention. Now my dear, I have a question for you—which you are free not to answer by the way—why may I ask, did you want to try another wand?"
You bit your lip as you thought, trying to organize your response.
"It's just—the Blackfern felt fine, Mr. Ollivander. It would probably have been suitable—but it, just didn't feel like it belonged to me—"
"—not this time." you added silently to yourself.
Mr.Ollivander nodded thoughtfully as he handed you the long yellow box which you put into your bag.
"How very interesting. There is still so much we don't know about magic—maybe you, my young friend, are just another mystery that has yet to be solved." his eyes sparkled cryptically behind his spectacles. You smiled with a nod, happy he seemed content with your explanation.
After thanking Mr.Ollivander and him bidding you a fond farewell, you emerged back into the autumn sunshine.
You moved to a side street and pulled the wand from the box.
It felt so—connected to you. You rolled your wrist as you held it lightly in the tips of your fingers. Looking around, you spied a stray apple core in the gutter.
"Levioso." you whispered, delighted to watch the apple core shoot straight into the air.
It felt incredible—the difference between your wand and the borrowed one was like night and day. While you felt competent with the borrowed wand—you felt powerful with your own.
You stowed your new wand in your robes, putting the borrowed one into your bag to return to Fig later. You then quick-stepped into the current of people moving up the streets towards Honeydukes and your awaiting companion.
***
You saw your guide leading against a gnarled tree in a courtyard outside Honeydukes. You called and waved to him, skipping forward, excited to show him your new wand.
He praised it, saying it 'definitely suited you' before handing it back with a smile. You grinned, admiring it again, pointing out the finer detail to your captive audience.
"It's so amazing, Seb. I just feel—I feel—wait....do you feel that?" you looked around as strong thumps vibrated through you, chattering your teeth—followed by a gut-wrenching roar.
"What the f—" the brunette started before you yanked him against you, throwing a Protego around the both of you a split second before a shower of rocks and debris came hurtling at you.
It was a troll—scratch that, two trolls.
A constable—no, an Auror and a few residents drew one hulking troll down another path—leaving you and Sebastian attempting to subdue the remaining creature.
"We have to keep it away from the villagers!" you shout—firing off a bolt to get its attention on you—and not the crowd of terrified-looking second years running for cover behind the sweetshop.
"No time like the present to try that new wand, Bash! Stay clear of its reach with that—MOVE!"
You had to tumble forward to avoid the club the troll tried to bring down on you. You turned and cast a few sequenced basic casts, happy to find them far stronger than with the other wand, the troll stuttering with each impact.
"Confringo!" Sebastian cast, shooting a hot bolt of fire at the troll's shoulder, enraging it—and making it swing faster than the teen was expecting. The tip of the club caught him in the chest, flinging him hard to the ground, rolling a few times with a groan.
"SEBASTIAN!"
You felt your heart stutter as you watched the beast lift the tree-trunk club high in the air. Sebastian was trying to scramble and kick backwards on the cobblestones, away from the roaring troll. His face drained of color and eyes widened with fear as they flicked between the snarling beast towering over him—and his wand a few yards away.
He would most certainly be killed.
When you saw the troll reach the apex of its swing, starting its descent—everything just seemed to—slow.
You were raising your wand before you couldn't even formulate what spell you were going to cast.
You submitted to your instincts.
This couldn't happen—not to him.
You gave a fierce cry as you yanked your wand upward in an aggressive jerk, a primal energy coursing through you, manipulating the metallic magic you could see glinting around the club.
The tree trunk was as yanked from the surprised troll's massive fist as you controlled the magic, your wand listening and reacting to every subtle flicker of your heart.
You brought it down hard on its head with a sweeping flourish, causing it to stagger and stumble with a painful roar.
Breathing heavily you saw Sebastian was back on his feet and sprinting to his wand. You turned; your own wand at the ready, as you watched the troll sway unsteadily on its feet. One more incapacitating class spell should knock it out—and a combustible one would kill it.
You already knew what you must do before you caught sight of Sebastian's face from the other side of the yard.
Oh no.
Ice filled your heart as you watched Sebastian's lip curl in a cruel snarl, his warm brown eyes now sharp and cold. You felt the fear again. He reeled back an arm to cast a final spell at the troll—a death blow.
Everything then sped up.
"BOMBARDA!"
"PROTEGO!"
You were quick with the shield charm, getting in place a half second before the exploding spell impacted—but you didn't put shield around yourself.
You cast it around the troll.
"What the hell are you doing?!?" roared Sebastian in a rage. Ignoring him, you cast a strong Stupify at the now unprotected troll, hitting it between the eyes, making them go crossed. The troll then tipped backwards, almost comically slow, to land with an earth-trembling crash onto the paving stones.
On shaky legs you ran past it, noting the steady breaths from its open maw. It was alive—it would have a hell of a headache—but it would live.
"Are you alright? Are you hurt?" you rushed out as you made it to Sebastian's side, attempting to reach for him to check for injuries—but he yanked his arm back. Looking up, you saw his face set in a furious glare.
"What was that? You protected that thing?!?"
"You were going to kill it!"
"I know! I was trying to!" he roared, throwing his hands up in frustration.
Right.
Taking a step back, you levelled a serious gaze at him, your eyes stinging as you attempted to control your boiling emotions, gripping your wand tightly.
You took a steady breath before fixing him with a hard look.
"Sebastian, I like you. I think we are meant to be friends. But I am going to make this unequivocally clear—right here, right now. I don't kill if there is another choice—and I don't have room in my life for anyone who acts otherwise." you add seriously, keeping your eyes locked on his, giving no room for misinterpretation.
You had made this promise to yourself—to the Ravenclaw, the night you had seen the memory—had seen what your future could be. Violence and death had led to your doomed couterpart's fate. You would be different—you had to be.
Sebastian's face remained set in glare as you squared off, each gauging the other's resolve. Finally, he broke eye contact first, looking down with a frustrated huff, rolling his shoulders in irritation.
"Are we clear, Seb?"
"We're clear." he muttered, looking up with a resigned and somewhat ashamed look. You nodded solemnly.
"Good. I'm glad we understand one another. Now, as I was saying—are you alright?" and you cautiously try to approach him again. Your concerned face had him giving a weak smile, allowing you to start to worry over the few bumps and scrapes he had collected in the fight.
"More importantly—are you?" he looked down at you seriously as you were checking some scratches on his knuckles. "That was some incredible spell work—I have no idea how you lifted that club like that."
"It was—that magic again, Seb. I can't explain it—but I just knew what to do. It is this—force within me that doesn't seem to follow the normal rules of magic." you admit with a tinge of worry, casting your eyes to ground where the troll lay drooling.
Sebastian stepped closer to you, using a soft knuckle to lift your chin and meet your eyes.
He smells like cinnamon and coffee.
"Well, thank you—I owe you my life." he admitted with an intense look. You felt heat flare in your cheeks as you looked to the side with a nervous smile.
You heard a sharp intake of breath—right before your cheek felt ice cold compared to the heat of Sebastian full palm against it.
You went still as you felt him slowly swipe a thumb along your cheekbone. A spark of pain had you pulling away from his hand just enough to see crimson streaked on his finger from the corner of your eye.
"Oh—I must have gotten hit with debris." you mutter, willing your heart to settle as you attempt to step back, only to find Sebastian had surreptitiously slipped his other hand on your side, keeping you anchored in his grip.
He looked up and whipped his head around, scanning the chaos of the square—squinting and thinking. He looked back down. Decision made.
"Alright. We are going to go find that Auror, then we are getting a drink—"
"—wait, shouldn't we—" you interrupted, but he was already running his hand down your arm to firmly grasp your fingers, pulling you across the square, your feet tripping on the cobblestone to keep up with him.
"—a drink of Wiggenweld. We are off to Pips. You are going back to the castle as perfect as you left it—that Fig woman scares me."