Chapter 2

A.N. :Been a Bit since I posted; blame Uni and Baldur's Gate, that shit is addicting. Hope you guys like the chapter. Hopefully, the next one will come out sooner.
Discord Link: MFDHcBBgA

Betaed by : The Mighty Quinn

I walked around the alley, getting used to the sounds, the smells, and the great variety of colours that everyone seemed to wear. Apparently, eyerape was a staple of wizarding society, not just a Dumbledore peculiarity; go figure.

I looked around for anything of interest, from a few mom-and-pop shops, which must not have been important enough for Rowling to mention, to a few Owleries, and even Madam Malkin's boutique in the back, half-hidden between a potion shop and a restaurant with the moving image of a dragon painted on its front.

I walked around for a fair bit, looking around the sprawling alley shops, till I finally reached Ollivander's one, a fairly spartan thing, similar to a more Victorian shop than the weird mishmash of pre-industrial revolution and renaissance fair look the rest of the alley's building's shared, the only thing outright magical about the outside of the shop was the sign, A colour changing wand with sparks shooting from the tip like fireworks below which was written in gold the date of the shops founding, 382 B.C.

"Wonder whether that's the start of the shop or of the family," I muttered, scratching my chin, jumping a bit as a jovial voice replied behind me.

"The Family, of course! Why, I still remember when my father built this shop after the previous one got trashed by a drunk giant, funny business that." I turned around, looking at a towering mountain of boxes held up by a twig of a man, old, tall and thin and with tuffs of white hair jutting out from the sides of his head.

"Mind opening the door, please?"

"Sure thing," I said, holding the door open for him as he hauled in a mountain of boxes.

"Much Obliged," he said with a jaunty wave and a smile before putting the boxes down and waving his wand around, making them float back into the scaffolding, leaving a few on the counter.

Naturally, my curiosity got the best of me. "So, what's in those boxes?"

"Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that, some nitroglycerine, the usual."

"Wait, that's fucking explosive," I said, instinctively taking a step back, making him laugh and grab one of the vials.

"Quite a bit, yes, and still the only stabilising agent for erumpent horn's extract, I'm afraid, and of those two, this little thing," tapping gently the one in his hands, "is the less dangerous one."

I couldn't help but let out a nervous laugh, realising that he was simply having a bit of fun at my expense. "Well, that's nice to know."

He smiled and leaned against the counter, fiddling with the box as he did so. "So, what can I do for you? It's not often that a wizard of your age comes to my shop. Did something happen to your wand by any chance?" he said, putting everything back where it belonged and sending the boxes into their scaffolding.

"Yes, unfortunately, I was recently involved in an accident, and while I was able to get away with just some scratches, I can't say the same for my wand."

Ollivander's eyes softened a bit at that. "Truly a shame to see the bond between a wizard and his wand broken, so, nevertheless, I assume you are here for a replacement then?"

"Quite"

"Well then, dear customer, let's not keep you waiting," he said with a snap of his fingers as a myriad of instruments came flying through the door.

"Now, are you right-handed or left-handed?" he asked while going towards the back, moving about a few boxes and picking a few wands out of the wall.

"Right-handed," I said, turning my head to the side as the tape started to tickle my nose.

"Ah, not these ones then," he said, putting a few back into their slot, coming over with the rest of them and placing them on the front desk before snapping his fingers and dismissing the tapes.

"Try this, Pine and Unicorn hair, 10 inches, very flexible. Go on, give it a whisk," he said, handing me a thin white wand, snatching it from my hands almost immediately after handing it to me. "No, not this one."

"I… you didn't let me even do anything," I protested, a bit confused.

"Trust a master of his art, lad. That wand was not the right fit for you."

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try –" he said before ducking as a burn of fire came out of the wand.

I carefully placed it on the counter; it would be better not to burn down the shop after all.

"Shame, I never seem to be able to pair up that one with anyone. Oh well, try this one, then Birch and Dragon heartstring, 13 inches, inflexible."

I felt something when I reached for the wand, like walking through the street to greet a friend, only to find out they were a different person entirely.

"Close, but it's not the right one either. Here, try this one."

And so it went for an hour or thereabout, wand after wand after wand, and yet none seemed to be the right fit, from too tempered to too quiet to a particular one that just burnt to ash in my hands.

Ollivander seemed strangely happy about his work literally going up on fire. Let's hope that means I don't have to pay him for that.

"Well, I must say that you are a far trickier customer than I thought, but I think I've finally narrowed it down," he said, holding in his hand a very old wooden box, the lacquered wood kept pristine despite its apparent age.

He placed the box gently on the desk and revealed a simple black wand resting on a plush velvet cushion. He extended the box toward me, his voice tinged with anticipation.

He gingerly held the box towards me before speaking once more

"Of all the wands I've sold in my shop, that is the last one remaining from my apprenticeship days, and I must say that I'm pretty happy to have finally helped it find its companion, come on, give it a wave."

As soon as I grasped the wand, a pleasant feeling rushed through me, something akin to the first rays of the dawning sun on a cool summer's night or the warm fire of a bonfire on the winter's end feast and yet as strong as the ocean's waves and the ever-burning sun.

And as it quickly came, so it quickly faded as I closed my eyes to capture the last embers of that feeling, smiling as I felt the very same thing nestled lightly over my heart.

I opened my eyes as I heard Ollivander's soft clapping, seeing him smile as he began to speak.

"Ebony and Dragon Heartstring, 12 inches, reasonably supple. I hope it will serve you well in the days to come.

"Thank you"

"And now it comes to the matter of payment, and I assume you'll want a wandcare kit to go with it as well?"

I hesitated for a moment, considering the necessity of proper wand maintenance. "That would be appreciated."

"That will be 49 galleons and 10 sickles."

My heart sank, my pockets suddenly feeling much lighter than they had a moment ago. "I… I thought a wand was 7 Galleons?" I asked, a bit confused, something that Ollivander immediately picked up on.

"Ah, I can see where that misconception might arise. I'm sorry to say that 7 Galleons are only for Hogwarts' first years only," he said with an apologetic smile.

I put down the coins on the table with a small grimace.

"Thank you, I hope it will serve you well," He said, bidding me farewell from the shop.

'Well, this is fucking unfortunate', I thought, feeling my pockets a lot emptier than I wanted, 'and just like this, half my savings are gone', I thought with a frown.

"Fuck, don't tell me I need to find a job, who the fuck is going to hire me for a month?" I muttered, saying sorry to a man I almost bumped into, before heading back towards the Leaky cauldron, put off from further shopping until I found a way to make back some of the ones I already spent.

The air inside the Pub was more jovial than when I left in the morning; there were more patrons about, and a few of the already drunk ones were singing weirdly in-tune ditties, which lifted the mood inside and brought merriment to all.

And so I decided to join.

"What's on the menu, Tom?" I asked, taking a seat at the worn wooden bar.

"Well, the boy's in the back starting up a fresh batch of chips. That shouldn't be too long now, but otherwise, I've got some pies that are almost done in the oven if you'd prefer." Tom offered whilst cleaning a mug with his bar rag.

"What type?"

"Steak and kidney, what else?" He replied jokingly.

I nodded, "Eh, why not? I'll take it, but first, how much is it?"

Tom leaned in a bit, a knowing glint in his eye. "Well, 'bout 5 knuts, I suppose, renter's fare and all."

"Thanks, I'll take it then," I replied, counting out the coins in my palm.

"Say, why are you even worried about a few knuts anyway? You seem well off, certainly better off than some of my regulars," Tom remarked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

"Not that well off, it seems," I sighed, "getting a new wand cut my savings in half, and my new job doesn't start until the first of September."

Tom raised an eyebrow, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh, so you are the new Hogwarts professor then?"

I was taken aback. "How did you…"

Tom chuckled, "Well, it's pretty obvious. It's the only job starting on that date, and with Hogwarts going through professors like a bag of Bertie Bott's Beans, it wasn't hard to connect the dots."

I looked at him bewildered, to which he just offered a warm smile.

"Being a pub owner has its perks. The news always comes to my pub, sooner or later," he said, sliding a steaming hot pie in front of me.

"Here, it's in the house," he continued, sliding back the five knuts. "Think of it as a celebration gift for your new job."

I smiled, touched by Tom's kindness, and dug into the pie.

I finished the meal quickly and went back upstairs to my room to lie down for a bit.

I plopped down on the creaky bed. My brand-new wand rested comfortably on my belt, but my wallet wasn't quite as comfortable. The weight of it was almost laughable and not in a good way.

"I'm fucking broke," I said, almost screaming against the pillow. "Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck"

I needed some cash and fast.

Half of my trouble came from the fact that I didn't know how the economy worked.

A wand came at 49 galleons, a meal a few knuts, but was it because Tom liked me or was that standard?

Hell, I didn't even know how much a pair of pants was worth. This was '91 England; who the fuck knew what went on there…

"Wait, I'm a fucking idiot, yeah this is Magical England, but it's still fucking England, I can probably get a job at fucking Mcdonalds'"

A part-time job like that sounded like the way to go, something to kill time and fill my pockets. Hogwarts was still a month away, and I didn't want to just twiddle my thumbs and watch my savings disappear.

"Fuck it, McDonald's it is, how hard can it be to get a job there?"

Spoiler Alert, it was fucking hard.

So, here's the deal: while NotOdin™ might've worked wonders fixing up my papers in the magical world, the bloke completely forgot the Muggle setup. I mean, sure, I've got an ID card burning a hole in my pocket, but everything else? Zero, zilch, nada. I was standing there with a handful of nothing and fuck all in my wallet.

This is why I had found the door shut in my face any time I tried to get employed anywhere decent and even some places that could, unarguably, be called shit.

"Fuck my life, and I thought I was in for a power fantasy, not a round of unemployment all over again," I grumbled, venting my frustration as I kicked a pebble down the road as I headed to the park to think.

"Well, now, what do I do then?" I muttered, sitting down on a bench, trying to enjoy a bit of peace at least.

'I could always commandeer an empty house, it would be pretty easy with magic, and it's not like there aren't any around', I thought, staring at the ducks just playing in the water with no thoughts at all, lucky bastards.

'I mean, how hard could it be, find an empty lot with nothing inside, magic it up so no one notices it, then either transfigure the furniture or simply get it from a landfill, a few cleaning and repairing charms and that thing would be like new… Uh,' I thought, the sudden realisation hitting me like a lightning strike.

My mind trudged along, plan after plan made and unmade as quickly as I could think of them, a few of them undone because of morality issues, a few removed for simplicity's sake and a few more still because they were too dumb to contemplate.

In the end, I was left with two plans. One of them left me to deal with the muggle world, the other with the wizarding world, and honestly, given the temporary nature of it, the muggle one would be the better alternative.

"Plus, that way, I can just wave away any Inspectors from the Department of Revenue. I can't do that in the wizarding world," I said with a snort before finally getting up, feeling happy to finally have a plan in place for the future.

And so, with a jaunty whistle, which may or may not have scared the ducks, I walked away.