Part 7
Wands and Housemates
Waking up in the Slytherin dormitories was super weird for Harry. Not because it was awful or poorly decorated, but because it was so different from Gryffindor Tower that it was a smack in the face wherever he looked. Though, as far as decoration went, no expense was spared. That much was obvious.
The Slytherin sleeping quarters could only be described as breathtaking. Lanterns hung from the ceiling around the room, spreading a soft green light throughout that seemed to sing with gentle notes Harry couldn't explain. The beds were larger than those in Gryffindor Tower, and delicate silk curtains in a deep forest green were hung on rails for privacy around each bed. Additionally, the bedsheets had little silver threads woven into the green that made it catch the soft lantern light, and shimmer like the surface of a lake or stream.
Tapestries decorated the walls too, each old and frayed, depicting the successes of Slytherins from years past. Some were green to match, but others had pops of colour that stood out oddly, but not unaesthetically. Each one must have been imbued with some kind of magic, because they shimmered and seemed to move. They weren't alive, as the portraits were, but they were definitely not as plain as Muggle tapestries. There was something just a bit special, and it made them that much more fascinating.
Apart from his surroundings, the oddest thing about the whole situation was readjusting to living with so many roommates. Harry had once been used to it, Gryffindor Tower bustling with people every morning and every night, brushing their teeth and dressing and getting ready for the day, but Harry wasn't used to it anymore. He'd finally adjusted from 'camping in the forest hunting Horcruxes' towards 'living peacefully in a Manor,' and was now thrust back into a 'you are constantly surrounded by a dorm full of roommates' situation. Good thing Harry had always been good at winging it. He just hoped he adjusted quickly.
Harry padded into the bathrooms, which were divided oddly. The main room with mirrors and sinks was for everyone, but then there were separate sections for toilets and showers which were divided by gender.
"Good morning, Harry." Draco– that is, Malfoy, yawned, leaning on one sink. His hair was a mess, which was a little funny to see. Harry hadn't seen Malfoy dishevelled very often in his previous life, unless he was having some kind of crisis.
"Morning, Malfoy." Harry slid behind him to get to the sink next to Malfoy's, fumbling for his toothbrush. He was awkwardly glad his roommates hadn't asked him to call them by their first names when they all introduced themselves the night before. He just… wasn't quite ready for that. Knowing they were different people than the ones he grew up with was one thing, but he needed to see it.
"Are you excited for classes?" Zabini appeared, walking out of the boy's side of the showers. He was shirtless and dripping wet, but also completely shameless. Harry suddenly wasn't so sure he'd get used to living with these people, and he looked away quickly.
"Um, yeah, I guess." Harry cleared his throat, and stuck his toothbrush in his mouth so he didn't have to say any more.
"I'd be worried if I were you." It was Parkinson, and Harry frowned at her around his toothbrush as she made eye contact with him. "No point being excited with your situation."
"Pansy." Malfoy turned to her with a scowl, and she rolled her eyes.
"What?" She put a hand on her hip and raised an eyebrow. "It's true. I mean, he's fifteen and never used a wand before. It'd take a miracle for him to be able to keep up with us."
"Pansy, that's mean." Greengrass chided as she finished brushing her hair. She smiled at Harry, "Ignore her, she has no filter."
"Daphne means to say that Pansy has no tact whatsoever." Zabini snickered at Parkinson's disgruntled expression.
"I prefer to be described as honest." Parkinson sniffed.
"What about mean?" Greengrass ignored Parkinson completely as she turned to Malfoy.
"Mean is a good word." Malfoy grinned at her. "Vexing, perhaps?"
"Whatever." Parkinson glared and stalked out the room, heading back to the girl's dorms.
"Sorry about her, again." Greengrass said it softly, but she was smiling with obvious amusement. "Pansy is an acquired taste." Harry spit out his toothpaste then, allowing him to respond.
"It's fine." Harry said, "I'm used to it." With that, he swiftly left the bathroom and headed back to the boy's room to change into his robes.
Parkinson wasn't right, but she wasn't wrong either. Harry was worried, but not for the reasons she assumed he'd be. Harry was afraid his magic would respond in ways he didn't expect. He didn't particularly care if he was 'good' or 'bad' at his classes at this point, he was more focused on understanding how to control his new magical power.
Despite himself, Harry pulled out his wand and stared at it, unable to help but trace the beautiful wood. Who would've guessed that his wand would be so different? He'd been expecting his Holly wand with Phoenix feather in it, but he should've known Death would have other plans for him.
Looking back, he couldn't help but smile.
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August 5th, 3:14pm (15:14)
Hadrian led the way through Diagon Alley, grinning excitedly at random points and explaining whenever Harry looked confused or stunned. Honestly, Harry was more focused on whatever the hell he was looking at.
Diagon Alley, the last time he'd seen it, was nearly empty. With all the attacks, most businesses either closed because they were scared, or because they weren't making enough money anymore as people stopped visiting. Seeing it so full of life again wasn't the only striking aspect either; Diagon Alley was different. A sign in a different font than he knew it was meant to be, a building painted a different colour than in his memory, even sometimes there was a shop Harry didn't remember existing at all. It was baffling, and Hadrian's happy explanations were just chatter in the background.
"Harry." He looked up as Lily spoke, "Would you like to go and pick up a wand now?"
"Oh, sure." Harry nodded, and followed as she and Hadrian led the way. He knew the way, of course, but he didn't have a way to explain that and chose to follow in silence.
Ollivander's was as rundown and old as Harry remembered it being, and he sighed lowly as Hadrian pulled the door open and led the way inside. It was a relief to see everything was the same as it had been when Harry first bought his wand.
The space near the entrance was small, full of dust that swirled when they stepped inside, and little fingerprints smudging the dust indicated Ollivander had had other visitors today. It made sense, Hogwarts was starting soon so kids who had later birthdays or were simply procrastinating would be showing up often.
On the far side of the counter, however, was the storage area. Thousands of boxes were stacked one on top of the other, disappearing as far as Harry could see. Going into the backrooms vibes. The chime of the bell that sounded at their entrance rang all the way back to where Ollivander was no doubt lurking, and he appeared shortly after.
"Good afternoon." He said, pale eyes seeming to gleam as they caught the light.
"Hello Mister Ollivander, we're here to buy Harry a wand." Lily said politely, smiling.
"Ah yes, Lily Potter, ten and a quarter inches, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work." Ollivander examined her.
"It's treated me well."
"And your son, nine and a half inches, slightly yielding, rowan wood." Ollivander drew closer, tilting his head as he looked at Hadrian. "With a unicorn hair core, a fitting pairing."
"Thank you." Hadrian nodded with a smile. He then turned to Harry with a wide grin. "You know, after I got my wand I became obsessed with wand lore. Unicorn hair is notoriously sensitive, and extremely loyal to its owner. Rowan wood wands are best with defensive magics, and are highly sought because owning a rowan wand is like a show of power. I love my wand."
"I've never seen a rowan wand in the hand of a dark wizard, or used for the Dark Arts." Ollivander added, "Though there have been great duelists with rowan wands. A rarity, however."
"Any thoughts on Harry?" Lily prompted, gesturing to him elegantly.
"Hold out your wand arm." Ollivander said, advancing further and examining Harry with wide and unnerving pale eyes. Harry held out his right hand dutifully, and watched as Ollivander carefully measured his arms and torso.
"The wand length mostly depends on height." Hadrian whispered to him, "Aside from that, sometimes it's character. Shorter wands need a strong hand to contain them, and longer wands need gentle precision and power."
"Ah, I see." Harry hadn't ever really considered wands as anything more than objects, tools for wizards, but he was realising it was much more than that.
After Ollivander was done with measuring, he began rifling through boxes and dumping them on the counter. Same as Harry remembered, Ollivander started handing Harry a wand, muttering, and then snatched it away a moment later. Harry just stood there, taking a wand and then having it snatched up immediately thereafter. It was as tedious the second time as it was the first, and it was even more annoying because he already knew which goddamn wand was his.
He remembered how reliable his magic was with his Holly and Phoenix feather wand in hand. Sometimes it acted of its own accord, but it saved Harry's life more times than he could count. Perhaps that was proof that wands were more than he'd previously thought they were. Maybe they were slightly sentient, even if the notion seemed a tad ridiculous.
"A tricky customer… hmmm…" Ollivander disappeared into the back of the store and came back with a small bundle of wands in arm. "I believe I have a hunch. Mister Potter, your wand is rowan, and a fact I have unearthed during my long years is that the owners of elder wood wands almost always feel a strong affinity with those chosen by rowan."
"So you think Harry needs an elder because I'm rowan?" Hadrian's eyes widened in either awe or curiosity.
"That is my hypothesis, yes." Ollivander stared Harry down, which made him fidget uncomfortably. "Elder wood is rare, and thus few wands are ever made with it. People avoid it due to superstition, often believing elder wands are unlucky, or cursed. I have not seen it to be so, neither did my grandfather."
Harry did not know normal wands could be made from elder. Maybe he was an idiot, but he assumed the Elder Wand was special because it was elder. Though Death was the one that made it special, Harry now knew. Harry knew the story of the Three Brothers, but it sounded ridiculous. He wondered what the real story was behind the Hallows….
Ollivander then handed him a wand, and snatched it back. Same with the next, and the next. Harry was beginning to doubt when suddenly it happened.
Ollivander handed him a thin white wand, vines carved into it running up the handle. As soon as Harry touched it, he knew. Maybe Ollivander didn't agree, because he tried to snatch it back. He couldn't, though, because even though Harry's grip was loose the wand stuck to his fingers and refused to be taken back. Ollivander's eyes lit up, and a moment later the wand tip flared and a deep blue flash marked that it was the correct wand.
"Marvellous…" Ollivander whispered as Harry examined the wand, "Just marvellous…"
"What's the core?" Hadrian asked, reaching out to touch the smooth wood. Harry felt it heat up at the touch, and Hadrian grinned as he felt the warmth under his fingertips.
"Elder wood, eleven inches, slightly unyielding, Thestral hair core." Hadrian's head snapped up at Ollivander's words, as did Harry's.
"Thestral hair hasn't been used since the eighteen hundreds." Hadrian said, leaning forward. "Are you sure?"
"This wand was crafted by my grandfather, and I have kept it my whole life." Ollivander said almost reverently as he stared at Harry. "I did not think it would choose a witch or wizard in my lifetime."
Harry couldn't find words. The Elder wand was of elder wood and Thestral hair, which didn't seem like a coincidence. Harry was the owner of the Elder Wand back in his world, but he hadn't thought it would carry over. Apparently Death thought he deserved a similar wand if he couldn't have the real thing.
"How much?" Lily stepped forward, and Harry stepped back to let her and Ollivander talk it out. He reckoned it'd be much more expensive than Harry's previous seven Galleon holly wood wand.
"You know what this means?" Hadrian whispered to him, leaning in with a wide grin. "We're meant to be together. Our wands prove it. Elder and rowan, you and me. Okay?"
Harry looked down at his wand, tracing the carvings and trying to bottle up his whirlwind thoughts, and he nodded.
"Yeah," He said, "yeah, okay."
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It was odd, even a month later. Harry wished he had a way to commune with Death, and ask his questions. He had so many, and no answers. Death said they wanted to see how he reacted to different situations, so they were probably extremely amused watching the whole thing. Assuming they were even watching, that is.
He had no reason to believe they were, anyway. Harry was just crashing through his new life and hadn't really seen any evidence that Death was watching. Though, maybe that was a good thing. Harry wasn't sure what he'd do if that floating childlike figure appeared in front of him again.
"You're still changing?" Harry looked up in surprise and hurriedly tucked away his wand. It was Malfoy, followed by Zabini and Nott, strolling in and raising an eyebrow at him.
"I got distracted." Harry said, turning away. "Sorry."
He dressed quickly, ignoring his Housemates as they chatted amongst themselves, and went down to breakfast a bit early. In his first life he was often one of the last down, so seeing the Great Hall in full bustle was a bit odd. Hermione scolded him and Ron for taking so long in the morning, but she stuck with them always, even if they were nearly late for their first class. He missed them.
"What's our first class?" Malfoy pulled out the chair on Harry's right, and Zabini and Nott sat across the table from him. Crabbe sat on the other side of Malfoy, but Harry was surprised when Goyle sat on Harry's left. He nodded to him as he sat, then dug into his breakfast without saying a word.
"History of Magic." Nott answered softly, pulling a plate of eggs towards himself. "Then Potions."
"Oh, excellent." Malfoy grinned, "I was looking forward to it."
"You like Potions?" Harry asked curiously.
"Yeah, I've always enjoyed the subject." Malfoy confided, "My grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy, was really good friends with Fleamont Potter. Fleamont was a Potioneer, and grandfather was sort of his apprentice."
"Oh, that's pretty cool." Harry couldn't help being surprised. As far as he knew, Abraxas Malfoy was a Death Eater his entire life, forcing his son into that life as well, and, by association, his grandson too.
"Yeah, he died when I was little, but I remember him working at his potion station all the time." Malfoy continued, "It's always stuck with me. When I got to Hogwarts, Professor Slughorn really pushed me to do my best. I'm part of the Slug Club, actually."
"The Slug Club is a special group of people Professor Slughorn decides are either good enough, or influential enough." Zabini explained. Harry knew that already, but, again, he had no way of explaining how he knew. So he was grateful for the explanation.
"Blaise is in it because of his mother." Nott said slyly, "Draco's in it because he's just that good."
"I don't deny that." Zabini shrugged delicately, "However, it'll look good for me when I graduate, and it'll get my foot in the door to anywhere I decide to work."
"Smart." Greengrass grinned, leaning over from where she was sitting. She and the rest of the girls were a few seats over, so she was leaning pretty far across the table.
"Eavesdropping?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow, and Greengrass smiled innocently at him. She then turned to Harry.
"Be careful Harry, for such a mild person Blaise is not to be underestimated." Greengrass said, and then her gaze sharpened and became a bit more intense as she added, "Or anyone at this table."
"I never underestimate people." Harry said honestly, "It's dangerous to assume something like that."
"Survival instincts, good." Greengrass nodded in approval, "That'll serve you well here."
"Thanks?" Harry said uncertainly, and she laughed lightly before sitting back and rejoining the girls' conversation.
"Congrats, you're officially on her radar." Malfoy said with a smirk.
"... Is that a good thing?"
"It's not bad." Malfoy shrugged, "I wouldn't say it's good either, though."
"She's a bit of a wildcard." Zabini said, leaning in and lowering his voice a little, "Daphne's play is to be pretty and innocent so you don't know she's even there until she has you right where she wants you."
Harry blinked, and he honestly couldn't tell if they were serious, or exactly what that meant. After a moment, Zabini grinned and leaned back in his seat again.
"I wouldn't worry though." He said smugly, "You're a Slytherin, so she has a lot more observing to do before she tries anything."
"What do you mean 'tries anything'?" Harry asked, "What would she do?"
"Depends." Malfoy said, thinking. "For me, she tried to seduce me or something. I don't know the purpose of the whole thing, but apparently I passed the test when I refused her for a whole month."
"She tried to undermine me in-House." Zabini added with a grin, "She went around telling lies about me to isolate me and damage my reputation. As soon as I figured out it was her I pulled her aside and threatened her. She didn't believe me, so I spent the next week randomly sending hexes at her without getting caught. She caved, and shook my hand. It was a sort of truce, I suppose."
"That's weird." Harry sighed, "I hope she just leaves me alone."
"With her track record?" Malfoy raised an eyebrow, "Not a chance."