Chapter 43: Chapter 043
Hedwig gave him a hoot of concern, amber eyes staring into his green ones.
"I'm fine," he reassured her, only to yelp when she nipped his fingers hard enough to draw blood. "Ok, I'm not fine," he admitted with a sigh. "But I'll get over it, so you don't need to worry."
His reassuring smile didn't seem to work on the strange bird. Hedwig gave him a deadpanned look that somehow seemed to say 'it's when you tell me not to worry that I worry the most.'
Harry shook his head ruefully. He still wasn't sure how he could understand Hedwig so well, or how she seemed to understand him so perfectly. It was almost like they were reading each other's minds. Whatever the case was, Harry planned on looking up any information pertaining to their situation when he got to Hogwarts.
"I'm being serious, you don't need to worry about me," he told Hedwig as he used his magic to make the blood on his finger disappear. The wound had already healed over. "Change like this is always difficult at first, but I've read that the pain will eventually fade. And it's not like I won't be seeing Lisa again. You know what they say, absence makes the heart grow fonder."
Hedwig gave a hoot before flying off Harry's knee, allowing the young raven-haired boy to stand and begin gathering his belongings.
His trunk was already prepared; he had taken care of packing it two nights ago. All of his books were put away. Well, almost all of them. He did want some reading materials for the train ride to school.
His clothes were neatly folded and organized in the compartment he had made specifically for them, and the few possessions he wished to take with him were all packed up as well. There were only three items left that he needed to grab.
"Do you want to come with me when I get on the Hogwarts Express?" asked Harry as he moved over to his desk. "Or are you going to fly there on your own?"
Hedwig tilted her head from side to side in slightly jerky movements. Harry waited as his owl pondered the question posed. After a moment, she gave a hoot.
"Alright then." With a small gesture of his hand the window to his room opened up, allowing a small breeze to blow through. "Be safe while flying, I hear traffic's rough this time of year." Hedwig gave what pretty much amounted to an eye roll at his horrible joke, and with an affectionate nip of his ear, took off through the now open window.
The window closed behind the owl as if on it's own accord, and Harry grabbed one of the two items he had decided not to pack in his trunk. The item in question looked like two small straps of leather that ran parallel to each other, and were attached together by a small 'pocket' about as wide as his finger. Sitting inside the pocket was his mother's wand.
Leaning down Harry undid the clasp and attached the wand holster containing the willow wand to his left ankle. He watched with a smile as it's form shimmered in the light before wand and holster vanished. Truly, magic was a wonderful thing.
The next object was another wand holster, only this one looked much different than the other one. This particular holster had a small slice of leather for the wand to slide into, though it was nearly two-thirds longer, quite a bit wider, and was shaped like a rectangle, posessing a hard casing instead of the softer and pliable material used in the creation of the holster holding his mother's wand. This was because of the catch located near the front of the opening which, when released, would cause his wand to shoot into his hand. It was called a dueling holster, for obvious reasons, and Harry had spent much time simply practicing the motions of releasing and reloading his wand until he could do it with the same economy of motion used in hand-to-hand combat.
Carefully, he slid the holster around the wrist of his right forearm, then tightened the leather straps that kept it attached, and slid the sleeves of his long-sleeved shirt over the holster until just the tip poked out. With swift and sure movements, he released the catch, allowing the wand to shoot out at startling speeds. He caught it, and a smile came to his face as he looked at the wand that Ollivander had told him was his greatest work.
XoX
It was about a week after the first time he had been to Diagon Alley that he received a letter from Ollivander informing him that his wand was ready. As Harry entered the store, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. The magic of this place was much more heady than the last time he had spent here, more potent. He wondered if there was a reason for this, but put the thought out of his mind and walked into the shop.
"Ah, Mr. Potter." Ollivander did not appear behind him this time, but rather, walked out from the door near the back. He looked tired, Harry noted. There were bags under his eyes, and his posture was stooped. Despite that, he also seemed very pleased with himself. The reasons of which soon became clear. "It is good that you are here, I have your wand all ready for you."
From within the old man's robes, Ollivander produced a simple black box. Harry waited on baited breath as the old man with silvery eyes opened it.
When the lid was pulled off, Harry saw his wand lying on top of a plush purple pillow reminiscent of satin. The wand was light brown, long, with a spiral pattern starting from the tip of the wand and moving down before it reached the handle, which was thicker than the rest by a few centimeters and had notched grooves Harry recognized were for his fingers.
Harry found himself transfixed on the wand as Ollivander moved closer. "Thirteen inches, made from the wood of an elder tree."
Elder tree, a rare tree found only in the most inhospitable regions. The wood from one made excellent wands, but was rarely every used due to their scarcity.
Ollivander continued. "Dual wand cores are used as the focus: the heartstrings of a Griffin, willingly given to my many times great grandfather. It has been dusted in ground dragon scales from a dragon whose very legend has transcended time, Odahviing." Ollivander's eyes held an intensity that Harry had yet to see in the man as he spoke. "This wand is powerful, very powerful, but also incomplete."
"Incomplete?" Harry's attention snapped away from the wand that lay in the box. As he looked at the old wand maker, his brow furrowed. Why would Ollivander call him here to inform him that his wand was ready if it had yet to be finished? Unless... "You need me to finish it."
"Indeed," Ollivander said, seemingly delighted that Harry had figured it out so quickly. "The three components I have used for this wand are all very powerful, incredibly so, but because of that, they are also unstable when used together. This wand cannot be used safely unless I have a powerful catalyst that can bind the wood and two cores together."
"Blood," Harry answered again. It was the only logical conclusion he could come to. Blood had power. There was a reason purebloods believed themselves superior to muggleborns, regardless of their inaccurate beliefs on heredity. "You need my blood. How much?"
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