2 Nature of a Wand Maker

-Magical Menagerie-

Entering the first shop of the birthday spree, Magical Menagerie, I spy cages of pets on display. It is very cramped, noisy, and smelly with every inch of wall covered by cages. The place obviously sold all kinds of animals — Steelers, Fire Crabs, Rats, Owls, Ravens, Cats of every color, Puffskeins, Transforming Rabbits, and much more. Once I was tired of reading the name plaques, I looked around the shop and found a small section of books. I pulled out my book list and found a title that Agnuk had written down. I pulled the book the shelf read up on the magical beasts.

My mother felt as if she was at a zoo. While I sat and read, she bothered the shopkeeper with every little question about the creatures that fascinated her. An hour and a half passed when I finally closed the book with a great sigh. I found a shopkeeper and tugged on his robs to get his attention.

He could have been taken back but my straight and unimpressed expression. I assume it was odd to see such a stoic child.

"How can I help you, little one?" he asked, slowly.

"First, by never calling me little one again." I snapped, "Then, you can give me a list of all the magical beasts that you have for sale in compliance with Hogwarts regulations."

The man stood there.

"Today, please." I ushered him.

The man hurried along and returned with a large parchment. He handed it to me and I read it over. "What is the regulation for Hogwarts familiars?" I asked without looking up.

"U-umm. Owl or Toad or Cat. The status as magical or non-magical is not specified. However, with emphasis on 'Or', students are only allowed one pet. However, there is an archaic Hogwarts law that allows bonded familiars no matter the species as familiar bonds are very special and rare. That bond is also part of a young wizard's development." the shopkeeper explained.

One year to form a bond. I think I can do that. All I have to do is be nice to the thing, after all, I think my Blood Raven was a bonded familiar in my past life, but magic didn't exist there so I guess I could never know. The only problem is that all of the war compatible creatures are a classification that can't be sold on the general market.

The shopkeeper must have noticed my feelings of disappointment as he moved closer and said. "You looking for somethin' dangerous, huh kiddo?"

"Sure..." I replied.

"In the back, tell the madam that Willy sent you, she will allow you to participate in an auction of dormant eggs. Those eggs are creatures found in ruins. Sometimes they hatch, sometimes they don't. Let fate decide who your familiar will be."

"Sounds like a scam," I told him with a deadpan look.

"No, no, no. Completely legit. Luck is like magic, and you're a wizard aren't ya? Try your luck, kid."

I was excited. So I went to find the madam, paid her 55 galleons, and received a ticket. I was told that an Owl would be sent with a location at a later date.

Pulling my mother by the arm, I left the shop and went towards Obscurus Books.

"Books for Hogwarts years 1 through 7, please. the most current books on Occlumency, Ligilemens, Wand Lore, well… just take this list and add wizarding law to it." I spoke to a woman with blonde hair and sapphire eyes.

"All of them?" she asked, bewildered.

"Yes, ma'am. Will you fetch them for me?" I ask.

"For four galleons, yes. Though it won't be ready for an hour," she replied.

"Easy. I'll be back." I slap down four galleons and go on my way.

Soon my mother and I arrived at Twilfitt and Tatting's. The patrons stared at my mother and me with disdain. I assume that they figured out my mother is a muggle. Agnok told me of the pureblood elitists in the British Wizarding World and warned me.

Unbothered, I move to the shopkeeper and turn my enchanted wallet upside down and dump hundreds of Galleons on the counter, shocking the tailor and the patrons.

"Careful, son. All that weight may crush the counter." My mother smirked as she obviously sensed the hate in the room.

"My mother is a wonderful designer who sacrificed her career because she wanted a child, me. She will design clothing and you will make them. I will choose the enchantments and you will apply them. I will set a date and you will complete my order by said date. I am the client and you are the tailor. That is all that matters, is it not?"

The tailor stammered, "Y-yes."

"Brilliant. Mother, take your time and design something with this man. Also, our orders will be tailored to fit a child no taller than three feet. I hear there is a resizing enchantment. I would hate to be charged for materials that could have been withheld. Oh, mom, make something for all of us."

I heard people whisper and by the expression of the tailor, it seemed that I revealed a trick that should have been common sense. Though the people around me began to line up as the tailor began to sweat. Oh, well, it isn't my problem.

After two hours and a line that stretched out into the market, my mother had finished designing outfits that amounted to a stack of papers taller than two rulers. She was amazed by the enchanted pencils that could sketch her thoughts. She even bought two dozen from the shopkeeper to take with her.

All the while, I wrote a two-page list of enchantments I wanted to be placed on my gear. I then opened my wallet and pulled on the pocket labeled armor. Within that pocket only a few books could be found, books with battle enchantments for my gear.

"Little Lord, I'm afraid these enchantments are ill--"

Ching! Ching! More Galleons fell on the desk as I paid no attention to how many I poured out.

"I'll make it happen." The Tailor changed his attitude.

"Thank you," I replied and left with my mother.

Returning to Obscurus Books, I paid for my order and put the books in my magic wallet, then left. My mother and I stopped for some ice cream before we left. We sat across from each other as she asked me why I lied in Gringotts. She told me of a tick I had when I fibbed. Now that I knew about it, I could eliminate it.

I chuckled. "Honestly mother… I remember my father and his six wives. It must be a magic thing, I don't know. Lena was a commander of her people. Clarissa, a doctor. Renly, a mechanical genius, and cousin. She built a magical pod from junk and descended into the earth, living to tell the tale."

"No way. Why did she go down there?" my mother asked.

" To prove that earth wasn't hollow. But she found something down there. It was near my first birthday and it started a war that got everyone killed." I explained, telling her about my wives to keep the lie simple. I just plugged my father in and used it to stimulate her curiosity and curb her suspicion.

"Wow...." My mother gasped. "So, what about the other three, which one was your mother? Was she as pretty as me?"

"Lilliana, a battle crazy bladedancer that trained even when she was supposed to be caring for me. Mel was a simple woman, who loved to cook. Finally, the woman he would carve his heart out for, Mira. My...mother. I see her face sometimes. A beautiful woman, inside and out. A great warrior, and a fantastic mother. She died the day before my father did, protecting me." My voice drifted to nothingness as images of the past came to mind and tears wet my face.

Before I knew it, my mother was holding me and the dam broke. I couldn't stop sobbing. In my mind, images of all my wives that died in the war came to mind. I missed them all and my heart ached more than ever before. I could finally mourn, I could finally cry. Finally, I saw Mira's face again and I just shattered.

My mother held me tight against her buxom breasts and I could feel her tears wet my head. It's been so long since I've had a mother. At that moment I vowed to never let this one die.

When I finally settled, my mother wiped my eyes and I wiped hers. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall apart."

My mother gave me a warm smile. "Nonsense. You're my baby boy. You can cry all you want."

I glanced at our ice cream and it was surprisingly still cold and held form. When we finished, she paid and then left the shop. But things became strange when my magic, unchanneled, began to stir. At the edge of my senses, a small beacon hummed. it wanted to be found, and whatever it is, it wanted to be found by me.

"Mom, one more shop," I tell her as I point at the shop with a window cluttered with stuff.

In a tiny junk shop full of broken wands, lopsided brass scales, and old cloaks covered in potion stains, I walked directly to the beacon and found a small wooden box. Attop the box was a carving of a man with multiple arms. Along the sides was writing that I could not read.

"A bodhisattva." said my mother.

"A what? Can you read the box?" I ask.

"No, that's Sanskrit. I can't read it. However, that man is possibly Bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara with One Thousand Hands and One Thousand Eyes. Seen it a few times during an anthropology class." she explained.

"What is the person related to?" I ask.

My mother smiled. "Some say reincarnation."

I look from her to the box. I then pick it up and the beacon disappears. It was odd because I was holding it in my hands. I could see it and feel it, but I could not sense it any longer.

I was further surprised when the shopkeeper sold it to me for 25 Knuts. A Galleon is equal to 17 Sickles or 493 Knuts. I had no idea what the box was worth, but I was sure a handful of Knuts was far below its actual value but I paid and quickly left before the shopkeeper changed his mind.

Unplanned and spur of the moment, I also decided to stop by the local wand shop. Cassandra told me to wait until I was ready and to find a specific man. So I took her advice. The only reason I entered the shop was to get a lead on that man.

The shop is narrow and shabby with peeling gold letters over the door of the shop read: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

The shop's display consisted of a solitary wand lying on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. The shop was tiny, empty except for a single, spindly chair in the corner. Thousands of narrow boxes containing wands were piled right up to the ceiling of the tiny shop, and the whole place had a thin layer of dust about it.

An old man was standing before the wands, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Ahh, what a peculiar boy..." the shopkeeper I assumed to be 'Someone Ollivander'.

"Mr.Ollivander?" I ask.

"Yes. And who might you be?" he asked in turn.

"Cotton Hakopa Hollow" I replied. Once I claimed my vault, I changed my name. My parents weren't thrilled but they understood. And no matter how much danger my biological father may have failed to kill, my name is my name and I preferred it over life. I had to own who I was in this new life.

"Ahhh, you must hail from New Zealand. Not many wizards left down there." said Ollivander. "The wars thinned them out."

"Mhmm. So why am I peculiar?"

"Because you are the first customer in the history of my family's shop that must be turned away. I simply do not have a wand for you, more so, I can not see a suitable wand for. I am perplexed, intrigued, and slightly frightened."

"Frightened? I'm just a child."

"And once there was another child who walked through those very doors. I did not have a wand for him either. But very lightly I could see what he needed. The man that brought him in, gifted the feather of a phoenix, and I crafted wands that were the best I had ever made. But you, I see nothing at all. So in return, I will give you a feather from a phoenix."

Ollivander twisted his hand and a bright red feather, a foot and a half long appeared in his hand. He then handed it to me with a smile. "Find another wandmaker," he said.

"Rufus Amos," I said.

Ollivander's body jerked. "Mr. Amos. Where did you hear of him?"

" Hearsay. I heard he's good. Where can we find him?" My mother answered for me.

Ollivander waved his hand the shop door locked and the windows were covered. He began to chant and magic lined the entire building.

"Lesson one, boy and muggle mother. Names are powerful. Never speak his name again. A name can be tracked. And 'he' is a hunted man. Lesson Two, never trust a wandmaker, we make wands based on the potential of a wizard, we love greatness and having our wands attached to greatness no matter the deeds of the wizards. Lesson three, nothing in this world is ever what it seems. Now, the man you are looking for can be found in Paris, with a woman named Vinda Rosier. This information can get you killed."

"Then why tell us, old man?" my mother snapped.

"Lesson two," Ollivander smirked. "I trained the man you seek. His skills are my skills. His wands are my wands. If another great wizard emerges, no matter his deeds, he will flourish with an Ollivander wand." Ollivander explained with a large toothy smile.

I told Ollivander, thank you, and he undid whatever spell he placed on the shop. When my mother and I made it to the door, the old man called out, "Wait. You're here. So you're going to Hogwarts ehh?"

"Yes," I replied. "I hear it's the local school of wizardry."

Ollivander chuckled and disappeared in an odd warp of space. He then appeared again with a box. He now stood in front of me as he stretched his arm out.

I grab the box as he says, "Whatever wand that man makes you, never use it in front of the Hogwarts Headmaster. He knows the craftsman well."

Ollivander then taps the box rapidly, "This wand will be your school wand. As long as you study hard and practice even harder, the wand will work. 12 inches long, firm with a little bend, made of methuselah wood and a core of dragon heartstring. It seems you have a year or so before you are of age for school. Enough time to get a handle on the wand. I hope you do amazing things, because the headmaster will have my head for this."

"If you're growing to hell, you might as well go all out... Do you have any books on wand lore?" I ask.

"Plus the wand. That'll be 35 galleons. Only the feather was free." the old man chuckled.

"Sure." I reach in my wallet and pull out 30 gold coins for the old man. He then vanished and reappeared with a stack of old books.

"One more gift." he then placed a journal on top of the stack, "Not for you, but the man you seek. Tell him that he has graduated. Now go on, I have a business to run."

The old man shooed me off.

"He was an odd man." said my mother and I chuckled while putting the books in my pouch.

"So we're going to Paris, ehh? That should be fun." my mother sang.

"Doesn't dad have to work?" I asked with a furrowed brow.

"Please, he's quitting as we speak. Do you think we would really let you come to this world alone and ignorant? Your father could practice wizarding law instead of muggle law. And I can go back to that tailor and sell my designs and contract for a percentage of the profit. We can stay in the wizarding world and you can catch up with the wizards who were born and raised here."

"You guys would really do that?" I asked, astounded.

My mother stopped walking and looked at me. "You are all we've ever wanted. And it's not like putting our lives on hold. We're actually starting a new adventure thanks to you. Don't worry about the logistics. As your parents, we'll do what's best for you and nothing that you don't want. Unless it's eating your vegetables or something." my mother tittered and pulled me into a hug.

"Come. Come. It's getting late and we all have long days ahead."