Preface
I thought I'd write a little something to give new readers an idea of what they're in for. As of writing these words, I'm currently putting the finishing touches on Book 3, Prisoner of Azkaban.
When I first started writing this story, I had the rough outlines of a story running parallel to Harry Potter's own saga, as well as a power system that wouldn't conflict with the world of Harry Potter. I've, of course, made adjustments along the way, but generally, if I bring something up, it will be important later on!
It's important to note that this isn't an AU; though I will embellish and add details to missing parts of the lore, I will never contradict anything that J.K. Rowling clearly establishes as canon, except for two things:
1. Oleandra Greengrass, the main character, exists.
2. Merlin never attended Hogwarts, since he predates it by about 500 years. This will be somewhat important to my story, so keep it in the back of your mind!
Feel free to comment if I get anything else wrong, though!
This story will start slow at first, but I assure you the payoff will be worth it if what you like is progression fantasy. Oleandra starts off as weak as Neville Longbottom. But as she masters the magic of the runes in the stars, she will begin using her magic more creatively, finding more uses for apparently useless magic, and most of all, innovating new and more powerful magic spells.
You'll find magic inspired from Nordic, Briton and Irish mythology, the Fate franchise, the Book of the Stars series, and even Fairy Tail! By the end of Book 7, you can expect to find Oleandra and her companions fighting on more or less equal terms with the likes of Voldemort!
And now that I've said my piece, happy reading!
To all the Yuri fans!
If you've decided to read my story because of the yuri tag, please take note that it will be MC X Tracey Davis, but that their love story will only begin to blossom starting from the end of their fourth year at Hogwarts!
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Daphne Greengrass, of the noble and most ancient house of Greengrass, was nothing if not ordinary. For a witch, that is. To some muggles, maybe she would have seemed like an ephemeral fairy, had they been heavily dosed with love potion, and perhaps very, very drunk. She had dark brown hair, a permanent scowl on her face and cute button nose, and was of regular height for her age. She also had a twin sister, Oleandra. Obviously, her appearance was identical to Daphne's in every way, except for her eyes, which glinted with might have been curiosity. Or perhaps they glinted with mischievousness. Really, who could tell? In any case, Oleandra was somehow even more ordinary than Daphne, which would have made her extraordinary in a certain way, derived from the fact that it seemed like Oleandra was going to turn out to be a squib.
This was, of course, nothing newsworthy to one of the sacred 28 families. Had they followed up on the muggle science of heredity and the principles of inheritance, they would have found that years of copious inbreeding had certain deleterious effects, such as an increased chance of producing blood maledictions. Ironically enough, they also increased the odds of producing squibs, whose magical genes brought about the muggle-born wizards that they so love to hate.
Wizards, being incurious and static beings by nature, do not care about such things, much less those of the noble houses, who consider such things to be beneath them. But luckily for her, Oleandra would prove herself to be magical. Not that magical, mind you, but magical nonetheless.
Indeed, nine of ten magical experts believe that if a child had been magical, they would have exhibited signs of it before the age of 7. Accidental outbursts of wandless magic under emotional duress are the most common examples.
The second most common is the intentional use of underage magic outside of school. It is against the law, but the law is for those muggle-born peasants who don't know any better. Pure-blooded children have magical parents, and thus when the Trace sends out a signal to the ministry that magic is being used around the child, officials will simply "assume" it was the parents. Some sneaky parents might teach their children first-year charms and allow them to practise with a spare wand.
Unfortunately, Oleandra would never be able to produce any sort of reaction from her parents' wands. But on the night of the 8th of August 1991, her eyes would twinkle a little while stargazing. The very next day, she would receive her Hogwarts acceptance letter.
And so, Oleandra, who had been kept thus far out of sight and out of mind, would be making her high-society debut… on the Hogwarts Express at age 11. But that was a month from now, she had to immediately send a response to the acceptance letter, as well as take a trip to Diagon Alley to purchase school supplies.
Upon reading the letter, her parents, Maxwell and Iris, were overjoyed.
"I always knew you had the magic in you," her mother gushed, as if she hadn't spent many sleepless nights worrying over her daughter's future; high society looked down on the non-magical; Squibs were seen as a sign of decline in a magical family. "I never doubted it one single second, unlike your father."
Upon which she threw a proud look at her husband.
"I suppose you did, dear," he sighed, knowing better than to argue. "I daresay our family's future is assured."
Looking at his daughter, he added, "One more person to learn the family's signature magic can't hurt."
The family business, as the name "Greengrass" implies, lied in the cultivation of magical flora. Botanists by trade for a thousand years, the family fortune was based on the sale of magical plants to various distributors and to distinguished establishments such as Hogwarts or St. Mungo's.
It was an open secret that every single noble house had its own hidden signature magic, the basis for their strength. The incantations were kept secret to avoid their spread, and were taught only to the heirs of the family once they were found to be responsible enough. The Greengrass signature magic had something to do with the acceleration of plants' life cycles, Oleandra had surmised.
"Yes, father." Oleandra answered with a neutral tone. As an 11-year-old girl, she was less than enthusiastic at the prospect of a lifetime of watching plants grow.
As far as young witches went, Oleandra was somewhat of an oddity. She had been groomed for 11 years for her entry into mundane muggle society, going so far as to attend muggle primary education, so how could she not aspire at something greater, now that she had the chance to experience something truly magical?
The next morning, the Greengrass family gathered around the fireplace for a trip to Diagon Alley. As Maxwell, Iris, Astoria and Daphne jumped into the emerald fire while calling out their destination one at a time, Oleandra couldn't help but notice wisps of ethereal light emanating from the fireplace and heading straight into the heavens. Weird, she thought. That had never happened before.
"Diagon Alley!" she called out as she stepped into the magical fire.
A moment later, she was there. It wasn't the first time she had been there. In fact, it hadn't even been a month. She had accompanied Daphne through all the shops, looking wistfully at all the magical items on display, and now it was her turn. Oleandra still pinched herself on the cheek from time to time to make sure she wasn't dreaming.
"Let's head to Madam Malkin's first," proposed Iris. "She should already have your sister's measurements, so it shouldn't take too long."
The streets were rather empty, as most students had already done their shopping the previous month, so the walk to the clothing shop didn't take too long.
Soon enough, the little group had arrived under the "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions" sign and crossed the doorstep, a small bell jingling to announce their presence.
"Welcome," said Madam Malkin with a perfect salesman smile. "Miss Greengrass, everything is in order, I hope?"
"I'm the other Miss Greengrass," answered Oleandra. "The Hogwarts robes, please?"
Not to be denied her small talk, Madam Malkin persisted, "I see, so you finally got your acceptance letter, dear? Well, good for you."
Upon saying that, she ushered Oleandra to the ladies' fitting room, and took her measurements with swift, well-practised movements.
"Any preferences for the materials? Enchantments?" Madam Malkin inquired.
"The same as Daphne, I suppose?" answered Oleandra.
"Very well, three sets of robes, one pointed hat and one winter cloak, made from ethically sourced Puffskein fur, reinforced with Graphorn horn fibres. Your standard defensive enchantments, and a self-regulating temperature enchantment for comfort," enounced Madam Malkin. "Your clothes also come with a lightness charm weaved in, so do make sure to hold on to your hat on windy days."
"Rich people," she snorted inwardly. "At the rate these youngins grow, they'll have to buy new robes within two years. Ah well, more Galleons for me, I suppose."
Still maintaining her perfect smile, she added, "that will be 195 Galleons and 3 Sickles, if you please!"
One hundred and ninety-five Galleons and 3 Sickles lighter, Iris Greengrass led her children around Diagon Alley to purchase the remaining school supplies. Basic potion ingredients, a potioneering kit, protective gear and the first-year books:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic, by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory, by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration, by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi, by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions, by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, by Quentin Trimble
Oleandra already owned a telescope, so all that was left was to purchase a pet and a wand.
Standing at the counter to Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C., Oleandra was really looking forward to owning her very own wand. She had been deathly jealous, watching Daphne waving her wand around. Nothing but colourful sparks had come out, mind you, but it was far sight from her own disappointing performance.
As she was waiting for Ollivander to show up to the counter, she glanced across the room. Every available nook and cranny of the place was haphazardly occupied with shelves, and each shelf was crammed full with boxes containing wands.
Upon noticing the precarious state of some of these boxes, something peculiar caught her eye. Tendrils of light darted across the room. As her eyes adjusted to the sight, she couldn't help but notice that each box was connected to a translucent strand of light. Taking a step back, she finally came to the realization that the entire store was in fact, covered in these filaments of slowly pulsating light, much like a spider's web.
Oleandra gulped.
"Mother, what are all those lights?" she asked, very much concerned.
"What lights, dear?" Iris Greengrass responded unconcernedly.
At that moment, a crash was heard from the backroom, followed shortly by the sounds of steps, as Ollivander had finally showed up to the counter.
"Good day," he said in a soft tone. "Why, if it isn't the Greengrass family again." Usually, Ollivander would have inquired about every member present's experience with his wands, but he dispensed with the memory exercise, as it had only been one month since their last visit.
"Good day to you as well," responded Iris. Even for one as exalted as the head of the noble and most ancient house of Greengrass, it didn't hurt to stay polite with the British Isle's foremost purveyor of wands.
"The young lady Greengrass. Oleandra, wasn't it?" he said. "I thought I might be seeing you soon. There is no guarantee that twins will be chosen by similar wands, but we'll have you the perfect wand in no time. Which is your wand arm?"
After being exposed to such a strange sight, Oleandra was a bit reticent at the idea, but becoming a powerful witch was her dream, so there was no helping it. She raised her right hand in response.
"Let's start with this one," he said, pulling out one of the boxes. "Yew, with a core of unicorn hair, like your sister's."
Oleandra gripped the wand firmly and looked blankly back at the man.
"Well, give it a wave!" said Ollivander gently.
Nothing happened. Oleandra's heart sank like a stone. This was starting to get awfully familiar.
Ollivander took back the wand and handed her another. "Try this one out, beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Quite flexible."
Another dud. "I'll find you an owner one day," he murmured to himself.
And thus, three hours passed, with no results. Nearly every box in the store was strewn haphazardly across the floor. Iris, Maxwell, and Astoria had left ages ago to get ice cream.
"Are we absolutely sure you're magic, dear sister?" drawled Daphne with a smirk. So far, every wand had responded either with silence, or angry red sparks. One even released a foul odour, though that might have been one of the improperly resealed potion ingredients festering in her bag due to the sweltering early August temperatures.
Oleandra shot a mean look at her sister, but didn't dignify her with an answer.
Meanwhile, Ollivander was at the ends of his wits. "I don't understand," he said softly. "Unicorn hairs, Phoenix tail feathers, dragon heartstrings. From Alder to Yew, nothing's worked. How truly perplexing."
There were two wands left in his inventory, though he was loath to let go of them, as they weren't Ollivander originals. Rather, one of them was a Gregorovitch wand he had obtained in his youth, for research purposes, and the other had been purchased quite recently, an American creation, also for research purposes. Not that Ollivander wands weren't already the best on the market, mind you. It was just to keep watch on the competition, he had told himself.
"Go on," he said sharply. "Try this one. Whomping willow wood with a thunderbird wing feather."
The moment she grabbed hold of it, the wand emitted an electric discharge, causing her to let go of it with a yelp. The wand flew up into the air, whereupon it swung back at her, apparently intent on putting one of her eyes out.
Luckily, Ollivander snatched it out of the air on time, and put it back in its box. And then he secured the box with an entire roll of Spellotape.
Wordlessly, he handed her the very last wand. Oleandra gingerly reached out for it and lightly gave it a shake. Jade-green sparks flew out gently.
"Cherry, with a core of unicorn hair. Eight inches. Quite rigid. Should be an all-around decent wand. That'll be seven gold Galleons. Thank you very much. Now it's way past my lunch break, so if you wouldn't mind…"
And so, Daphne and Oleandra were unceremoniously ousted from the shop. They promptly rejoined the others, and quickly went into Eeylops Owl Emporium. Iris and Maxwell were about to be very late for a very important meeting, and could not be delayed any longer. Five minutes later, Oleandra had been forced to pick out the first owl she saw, a cute little pygmy owl. In a rare moment of wit, Oleandra named her owl Pyg the owl, and off they were back home to the Greengrass domain.
Meanwhile, Ollivander was mentally reorganizing his knowledge of wandlore, trying to make sense of what he had just witnessed.
Everyone knows that wands are a conduit of magic, a focus through which a witch or wizard brings about changes through spells. Any magical object could do the same, but no one uses them since wands are superior in every regard.
Wandless magic is leagues above in difficulty, not to mention weaker. The reason for this is that wands are actually sentient. Every young wizard is told that the wand chooses its owner, but they soon forget and ignore this tidbit, either from lack of interest or due to incredulity.
"Why," thought Ollivander. "Wands may even cast spells on their own if they were so inclined."
Indeed, not only does the wizard learn as much from the wand as the wand learns from the wizard, so do wands learn from each other, which explains why one could utter an incantation without knowing what it is for, and still achieve a result!
In any case, the spellcasting process is similar to the three D's of Apparating. Destination, Determination, Deliberation. There must be an end goal, a will to commit to the magic, and an action. Wands help move this process along, by helping the wizard to complete the steps, wherever they might be lacking. The swishes, flicks of the wrist and incantations tell the wand which spells to draw from its database, and the wand fills in the gaps.
Wands have a symbiotic relationship with wizards, and it is due to this relationship that they have dominated the magical world. But at the same time, magic has been so dumbed down that less and less archmage level wizards appear each century.
Compared to the glory days of the Atlantean God-Emperors, the Summoner High Priests and Pharaoh Alchemists of Egypt, the Shaman Kings of the Americas, the Golem-makers of Prague and Israel, the Dark Lords of Greece, the Chinese Immortals (of which none remain, ironically), the Onmyo of the Japanese, and the Runesmiths of the North, the only modern contenders in Europe are Albus Dumbledore, Grindelwald, Nicolas Flamel, Aleister Crowley (recently deceased), John Dee (deceased 1609), and perhaps just barely, You-Know-Who.
"My wands choose their owner based on who would make the best use out of them," thought Ollivander. "Whereas Gregorovitch wands do not care so much. Yes, that must be the case. She must not have been up to my wands' standards, yes. There's no other explanation."
How could Ollivander have possibly known! There are two reasons why the selection of wands had failed. The first, was Oleandra's unique disposition for the magic of the stars, and the magic of runes. And the second was that her past and recent experiences with wands had left her with a deep aversion towards wands. The wand chooses the wizard, but the wizard also reserves the right to reject the wand!
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