Published: November 1st 2024, 10:54:26 pm
The dim torches adorning the walls of Nott Manor flickered like a dying ember as Voldemort strode into a dark dungeon, his presence dark and foreboding. Shadows clung to the walls, twisting in unnatural shapes as if recoiling from the very aura of the Dark Lord. A lone figure stood in the centre of the room, surrounded by dust and the remnants of forgotten luxury.
It was none other than Ollivander, the master wandmaker of magical Britain.
Ollivander’s silver hair shimmered faintly in the dark, and his once-bright eyes now reflected a deep weariness, the weight of months spent in the dungeon and the terror of his captivity evident in every line of his face. Bound to a chair with ropes that shimmered with a faint enchantment, he appeared both fragile and defiant, a testament to the strength of his spirit even in the face of overwhelming despair and helplessness.
Voldemort approached slowly, savouring the moment. His red eyes glowed with an otherworldly hunger, and the air thickened with tension.
“Ollivander,” he said, his voice a serpent’s hiss, “you have something I desire.”
Ollivander lifted his chin with a hint of defiance, though the tremor in his hands betrayed his fear.
Voldemort’s lip curled into a sneer, but there was a flicker of intrigue in his gaze. He was someone who respected strength, and the wandmaker had proven so far to be a sturdy fellow. The man had not helped to provide the information he sought so far, and Voldemort respected the man for it. It was refreshing to see such defiance from someone other than Potter and Dumbledore. Now that Dumbledore was dead, there were hardly a handful of people who could dare to look into his eyes with defiance.
Besides, Voldemort had immense respect for the wandmaker. Ollivander was the one who crafted his wand, which had served him well for a long while now.
“Is that what you think? That your defiance will shield you? Tell me what I need to know, and you’ll have the gratitude of Lord Voldemort.” Voldemort said silkily, pinning Ollivander with a hard stare.
Ollivander remained tight-lipped.
A flash of irritation passed through Voldemort's fiery red eyes.
“Crucio.” he hissed.
Ollivander screamed at the top of his lungs as he spasmed despite being tightly bound to a chair. The torture curse burned through his body like hot nails scratching through his skin.
Voldemort suspended the curse and allowed Ollivander a slight reprieve.
“You must’ve held out under my Death Eaters, but you should know better than to deny Lord Voldemort. I thought you were a smart man, Ollivander.” Voldemort gloated with a smirk.
Ollivander groaned as the aftershocks of the curse made him twitch repeatedly. The curse’s lingering effect made his teeth chatter while his veins felt like they were carrying fire instead of blood.
Voldemort raised his wand once again, and he could see Ollivander shaking with fear.
“Tell me why my spell couldn’t break Potter’s spell? Why were our wands locked in battle, and why did apparitions rise out of our conflict at the Ministry?” Voldemort hissed.
Ollivander flinched when Voldemort moved his wand again.
“The brother wand effect!” Ollivander blurted out, fearing the unbearable pain.
“The brother wand effect.” Voldemort uttered slowly, testing the strange term with his tongue while intrigued at what it could mean, “Tell me more.”
Ollivander hesitated, but upon seeing the flash of anger in the fiery red eyes of the Dark Lord, he relented.
“The phenomenon of brother wands is well-documented.” Ollivander started with his lips quivering, “It is a rare occurrence where two wands share a core, leading to a unique connection between them.”
“Unique?” Voldemort echoed, leaning forward, his red eyes glinting with a predatory curiosity. “Tell me more. Why is it that they can perform such… extraordinary feats?”
“Wands are extensions of their masters,” Ollivander explained, forcing himself to maintain eye contact despite the horror that gripped him. “When wands share a core—such as phoenix feather, dragon heartstring, or unicorn hair—they may recognize each other. This bond can create unexpected effects during duels.”
Voldemort’s expression darkened, frustration mingling with intrigue.
“Potter… that wretched boy. He fought me to a standstill using a wand that was, in essence, a brother to my own.” Voldemort hissed, “So, it was luck that gave the boy a momentary advantage.”
Voldemort focused on the wandmaker again and glared at the old man.
“Tell me more.” he ordered.
Ollivander took a deep breath to steady his racing heart, and the guilt overwhelmed him for disclosing this crucial information.
“Six decades ago, I was fortunate to receive two Phoenix feathers and made two separate wands using them. One of them was made with Yew, while the other was made using Holly. Yew wands stand closer to death and usually suit the wizard with focused magical power. It is most common to bond with wizards and witches who develop skills in duelling. On the other hand, Holly wands stand close to life, making it uncertain and unpredictable. Holly wands choose wizards with raw untamed power and help them to channel it effectively, unlike other wands.” Ollivander was exhausted after the long-winded explanation.
“I see.” Voldemort adopted a thoughtful frown, but it didn’t last. “Tell me why ghosts started to emerge when my spell connected with Potter’s at the atrium?”
“I can only guess that it must be Priori Incantatem, otherwise known as the reverse spell effect. It is a rare manifestation of magic that happens when twin cores are in battle. When one wand overpowers the other, it forces the other wand to show an echo of the spells it performed. This happens because the cores will never destroy the other since they are brothers.“ Ollivander explained.
”So, I cannot defeat Potter with my wand.“ Voldemort thought aloud.
Ollivander just nodded with his head bowed.
Voldemort turned away from the old wandmaker and pondered his situation. He now knew what he had to do to overcome his most hated enemy.
‘I am in need of someone else’s wand.‘ Voldemort thought with a frown.
He considered asking Ollivander to create a wand, but he thought better of it. He didn’t trust the wandmaker to do justice to a new wand. Besides, he didn’t want to depend on the wandmaker to kill the Potter brat. His pride didn’t allow it.
It was already difficult for him to accept the fact that Potter forced his wand to submission at the Ministry atrium. The last thing he wanted was to get humiliated again because Ollivander messed with a new wand.
‘I’ll just have to find a spare.’ Voldemort thought.
******
Daphne Greengrass leaned against the cool brick wall of a quaint muggle Café, her blonde hair catching the amber glow of the streetlights. She grinned and flashed a victory sign as Harry clicked a couple of photos on his camera. The air was turning chilly as the evening progressed, and the sun slowly disappeared from the sky. The bustling sounds of Muggle life filled the air—laughter spilling from cafes, the distant honking of cars, and the rhythmic clatter of footsteps on the pavement.
But she didn’t feel like the day was over in the city. Unlike the wizarding world, where the streets would be consumed by left vacant edging closer to the night, the muggle world was lit up with many of its colourful lights. The people were still going about their business. The city never stopped functioning. The roads were packed with metal contraptions called cars carrying the muggles to their destination.
It was fascinating what muggles could do without magic, and she had never heard of this side of ingenuity before her exposure to the muggle world. She had thought the muggles were living in a gutter and mostly making a nuisance out of themselves by merely existing. She learned this was not the case when she first went out with Harry on their date in the muggle world. That day, she had spent most of her time skating, seeing old castles and even a huge aquarium. She particularly liked the boat cruise when Harry took her to Loch Ness yesterday. It was a wonderful experience, and it was a shame that nothing like that existed in the wizarding world.
“Let me see.” Daphne said excitedly, prying the camera from Harry’s hands.
She scrolled through the images Harry took with the camera. She couldn’t help but be impressed once more. The muggle camera captured her admittedly beautiful figure quite nicely with clarity. This was no clunky, huge, noisy camera used in the wizarding world. This one was sleek and easy to carry, and the photos were immediately available for her to see at her leisure. Of course, the pictures didn’t move or say anything, unlike the magical pictures, but they were fun nonetheless. Besides, she heard the muggles have another camera for that sort of thing.
The camera managed to capture her sparkling pink dress and her face in detail. The camera also held other pictures of the day as they spent most of their time on a muggle beach. With the wizarding world reeling from the loss of Dumbledore, she was not allowed to step out of her manor. It was only thanks to Harry’s assurance that they’d keep out of any major settlements and also keep to the muggle side that she was allowed to go on the date.
“You know I had a great time today.” Daphne said, hugging to his side as they resumed walking through the sidewalk.
“Really! Has the pureblood snob in you turned into a muggle lover?” Harry asked with an amused tilt of his head.
“Hardly.” She answered with a scoff. “But I understand why you like it here.”
“Hmm?”
“No one here is bothering us, and there is much to enjoy in this side of the world.” Daphne admitted.
“I assumed you would.” Harry said before his attention shifted to a stall on the side of the street. “Come on. I think you’ll enjoy this.”
Daphne followed him into the side street on the other side of the road. She just hung back by Harry’s side as he bought something wrapped in glittery paper.
“What is that?” Daphne asked, seeing a spherical food item that made her mouth water from just the smell.
“You’re going to love this. This is Scotch egg, one of the best street foods in this part of the city. Go on, try it.” Harry nudged her side.
As she bit into the spherical beauty, flavours exploded in her mouth that made her moan appreciatively. She could taste pork, egg and something else. It was quite delicious, and she bought a couple more in a box for her sister.
By the time they finished the Scotch egg, the night had settled into the city.
“Look at that,” Harry said, his voice barely above a whisper. “It is beautiful, isn’t it?”
Daphne glanced at the multitude of lights coming alive around the city, chasing away the darkness. She felt a slight chill settle in despite the onset of summer. So, she pressed herself closer to Harry with his left hand wrapped around her waist. They wandered once more through the streets, taking in the sights, and she was thankful for the date.
They wandered into an interesting section of the old city wall, a beautiful priory and a relatively untouched garden. The sound of the city faded into the background. They sat on one of the benches, with Daphne resting her head against Harry’s shoulder.
The whole day made her forget all about the troubles that lay ahead.
“We must do this often.” said Daphne, finally breaking the comfortable silence.
With a tentative smile, Harry reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. The world around them faded into the background, leaving the two of them in their own reality.
Daphne smiled against his lips when they paused kissing. She nibbled at his lower lip one last time before pulling back with a playful smile dancing on her lips. Her eyes suddenly picked up movement, and the next thing she knew, she was soaring above the city. She wanted to scream, but a warm pair of lips smothered her scream in its infancy. This was not the first time Harry had taken her flying using his spirit form, but her heart was racing as they sped through the air between towering buildings. They weaved through the buildings and massive towers until finally, they left the city behind, and her feet touched solid ground.
“Don’t do that.” Daphne hit his arm for scaring her out of her wits.
She found herself standing on a hill with the moon shining down upon them.
“You love it when I do that.” Harry said, smiling roguishly at her.
“Do I?” Daphne was about to hit him again, but Harry caught her hand and spun her around.
Suddenly, she had her back against him with her arms locked to her waist as Harry hugged her from behind. Just when Harry’s lips pressed against her neck.
“Look at the sky.” Harry whispered against her neck.
He suddenly flicked his wand, and the sky was magically cleansed.
Daphne gasped at the effect of whatever spell Harry used. She could see all the brightly lit stars in the sky without announcing a cloud in between.
“How did you do that?” Daphne turned to look at him.
“Magic.” Harry cheekily replied.
It was then she noticed the wand in Harry’s hand was different. She remembered Harry’s wand was a smooth piece of wood with a dark brown colour.
“This is not…” Daphne’s eyes widened in realisation, “Is it…?”
At Harry’s nod, she looked at the wand in awe and a healthy amount of respect. She had known of the Deathly Hallows, and unlike most, she knew the importance of the three magical objects better than most wizards and witches. After all, she helped Harry decipher most of the secrets from the ancient language scribbled in the scrolls and stone tablets.
“Can I?” she asked hesitantly.
It was rude to ask to use someone else’s wand, but she couldn’t help it. The Elder Wand was as old as magic, and if the lore she helped unearth were true, then the wand would be a creation of Merlin. To touch such an artefact was to connect with the history of the wizarding world.
Therefore, she was all the more surprised and happier that Harry gave her the Elder Wand. As her fingers wrapped around the wand, she felt a shiver down her spine. The most powerful wand, arguably the first wand ever made, was within her grasp. She felt like her ancestors would be proud a Greengrass came to possess the Elder Wand, however brief it lasted.
She was startled when Harry’s fingers covered her own, and together, they held the most powerful wand in the world.
“What will you do with this wand?” Daphne asked quietly.
There was a pleasant interval of time where there was only silence.
“Whatever we want.” Harry whispered in her ear before moving her arm in a familiar pattern.
“Expecto Patronum.”
The bright silver light exploded out of the tip of the Elder Wand and coalesced into a glowing ball of light. The ball of light churned and churned into something brighter every moment until there was a light that was so bright that she was forced to turn her head away. It was then that a thought sparked in her mind.
“Harry… the light the tablet spoke of…” she immediately said, her grip on Harry’s arm tightening a tad bit while her eyes widened with the realisation settling in, “What light can ascend beyond normal light, but the light born from the heart?”
“Huh! Interesting.” Harry murmured.
The bright ball of light suddenly broke away and flowed across their body, hugging snugly like a second skin.
Daphne stared at the patronus, behaving like flames without any actual heat. She marvelled at her lover’s ability to bend magic in all sorts of ways because right now, she could see the world in a whole different light.
“You’re right when you said the Patronus charm might be the ascended light, but to see a path using the ascended light, one must have the vision for it.” Harry murmured against her ear.
Of course, Harry was right, and she could feel her vision change as the aura from the Patronus charm merged with her eyes. For the first time, she saw the world in a different light.
******
“Thank you, Mr Black.” Amelia Bones nodded before she entered the room in the Black Manor where Harry Potter sat waiting for her.
“Is it normal procedure for the Minister of Magic to execute the will of someone in the wizarding world?” Harry asked, his piercing green eyes boring into Amelia’s.
“No, but these are not normal circumstances now, are they?” Amelia asked, settling her coat on a hanger and sitting across from Harry.
“I see.” Harry nodded. “Go ahead then.”
“Dumbledore left some considerable assets in his will to be disposed of. Naturally, we were curious what he wanted to leave for certain individuals.”
“Naturally.” Harry agreed with an amused look.
“So, Dumbledore left most of his liquid assets, that is, the contents of his Gringotts account, to his brother Aberforth. A set stipulated amount was moved to the Hogwarts scholarship account per his wishes from a separate account he set up. He also…”
“I’m sure you have places to be, and I have other matters that take up a lot of time. So, can we skip to the part where it’s relevant for my presence?” Harry politely suggested.
“Yes, that’d be lovely.” Amelia cleared her throat, “Mr Dumbledore left his entire personal collection of books to you. He writes that your journey into the great mysteries of magic has only just started, and he hopes you explore it with great passion. However, he reminds you not to lose sight of what is close to your heart during the journey.”
“Spoken from the heart and from experience.” Harry commented with a chuckle.
“Yes, I gather that to be the case.” Amelia said, eyeing him closely, “That was not the only item he entrusted you with.”
“Oh. What else?” Harry asked curiously.
Amelia picked up an envelope from her purse and took out a golden snitch.
“A snitch.” Harry said, controlling himself to smooth out any expression.
“The first one you caught when you joined the Gryffindor quidditch team.” said Amelia, reaching out with the little ball of gold in her hand.
Harry reached out and plucked the snitch from the Minister’s hand.
“You should know there is a powerful…”
“…enchantment. I know. I can feel it.” Harry finished for Minister Bones.
He rolled the little gold ball between his fingers. He looked up at Amelia Bones and inclined his head.
“Thank you for delivering this.”
“Of course. I did so only because I’m one of the few entrusted with the address of your current location.” said Amelia.
“Hmm.” Harry hummed with a smile, knowing that was not the case.
He stood up with the snitch safely tucked in his hand.
“There is one other thing. Dumbledore also left you the Sword of Gryffindor.”
“It was not his to give.” Harry said with a frown.
“I agree. Besides, we cannot track the sword.”
“There is no need. The sword will reveal itself to those in need at the most opportune time. It was designed to be that way by its owner.” said Harry.
“I see. That is good to know.”
“The books Dumbledore left for me. Where is it?” he asked.
“Outside in a trunk. A detailed list is inside that envelope.” said Amelia.
“Good.” Harry nodded, seeing a folded piece of parchment inside the envelope he picked from the table.
“One more thing. Did you not want to be informed when the Death Eaters attacked?”
“Yes.”
“We have information that an attack is being planned on Diagon Alley. Are you interested?”
“Very much so.” said Harry.
“Good. I’ll call for you when the time comes.”
“You realise my presence might draw the Dark Lord out into the open.”
“That’s the plan.” said Amelia with a cold smile.
Harry watched Amelia Bones leave the manor, and he retired to his room immediately. In the privacy of his room, Harry pressed the snitch against his lips, and the message ‘I open at the close’ appeared on the snitch.
Harry snorted, seeing the silly message. He sharpened his mind and forced his mind to think of self-sacrificing thoughts. He shifted his magic to resonate with the emotions that came with such thoughts, and the snitch folded in on itself. Inside the little piece of metal, he found the Resurrection Stone.
“Finally. The puzzle of Merlin is complete.” Harry muttered as the Resurrection Stone rested on the palm of his hand.