Self Made [Harry Potter fanfic]

After breakfast I took my time getting dressed. One thing that I didn’t find out for the longest time was that my little mishap at the age of twelve fixed one of my problems. I no longer drain magic by touch. Well, I still can actually, it is more like I can now control the ability. Good thing too since dressing like a nun was getting extremely bothersome. Not only that but my drain touch at max power could drain dry Draco in just ten seconds. Don’t ask how I know. 

 

Anyway, now I have a lot more freedom in my dressing code, not like it matters much seeing how conservative most witches, including mom, dress. Worst of all is the lack of variety, most of the time its robes with some dress below it. Whatever, at least I don’t have to use gloves all the time. I still have to use them when going out in public though. Dad, Mom and Draco use them as well to protect themselves from “the mudblood’s filth”. 

 

“Are the two of you ready?” Father asked once entered the living room. We will be going through the floo as going through the leaky cauldron would expose us to more of the muggle/mudblood filth. I chose to answer with a simple nod while my more expressive twin went for a rather loud yes. 

 

A simple explanation of the workings of the floo transportation, which we have heard before as this isn’t our first time, and we were ready to go. Taking a pinch of the magical powder I went after my father. Once again I felt the nauseating feeling of being pushed and pulled at the same time. It wasn’t painful or anything akin to being inside a crowded train at the time of embarkment and disembarkment at the same time. The myriad of places that flee by my sight didn’t help either. 

 

It took but a moment for the sensations to disappear. That was the only thing making the whole ordeal bearable. It is said that both portkey and apparition are far worse, both in the safety and comfort department. 

 

“No matter how many times I do this I will never like it.” I grumbled just loud enough for father to hear me. All I got for my trouble was a small mocking smile. Joke’s on him, I know he dislikes it as much as I do. No one in the wizarding world likes it, they just put up with the discomfort because there is no better option. A moment later Draco appeared and the next we were on our way to Ollivanders.   

 

Yeah, this isn’t going to work. That was all I could think once I set foot inside the wand shop. Every single wand despite being encased in an antimagic casing was giving me mean looks. Normally I can’t feel the magic in the air or object or people for that matter. I can do so using a vitality spell I formulated recently but that is besides the point. The only reason why I can feel all the hostility coming from the wands is because it’s directed at me. Though I can’t actively sense magic I can do so passively. 

 

The difference between active sensing and passive sensing is simple. In active sensing you extend your own magic outwards receiving information from said magic. Some people, especially strong wizards or witches do active sensing unconsciously. Passive sensing on the other hand is as the name implies, passive. The only information you get through passive sensing is that which is directed at you. 

 

Have you ever felt like someone is watching you then turn around and indeed someone was doing so? That is an example of passive sensing. Even creatures with low magic can sense passively like muggles. The problem comes from deciphering the information the passive sensing provides. 

 

In my case, I can easily know what my passive sensing is feeding me thanks to the properties my magic acquired when I made my little mistake. Since my magic is partially fused with my vitality any information I sense passively gets relaid to my vitality which I know like the palm of my hand. This is how I can sense the pure hostility every single wand is throwing my way. 

 

“This is going to be fun.” From the way Draco is nodding his head he didn’t catch my sarcasm. Father didn’t react to my comment so it’s either of no importance to him or he didn’t catch my sarcasm either, I am leaning towards the former. 

 

“Ah! Lucius, how has your wand been?” Suddenly Ollivander appeared out of a corner in the shop. Seeing as father’s reaction was simple of turning in his direction this is most probably a common occurrence. Draco did jump in place a bit which seems to be what Ollivander was going for. I didn’t react much either expecting something like this after not seeing the man right after coming in. 

 

“It’s been great though this visit isn’t about me.” As usual father didn’t speak much going right to business. Ollivander for his part didn’t seem bothered at the curt response option to look at us. His eyes first landed on Draco analyzing him for a moment before moving on to me. 

 

“I presume you need wands for them.” Father just nodded, which was all Ollivander needed to do his job. He took a measuring tape taking measurements from my brother. Finger length, palm size, Body height, arm width, and many more. The man moved with dexterity born from experience. He even took a few measurements that weren’t written in the book on veritology I had read.  

 

Once he was done he moved to the back of the shop while mumbling under his breath. It took no more than a minute for the old man to return with a few boxes in his hands. Then the fun began. Draco had to go through a total of six wands before finding his match. The first one funnily enough gave Draco an afro after a wave. I had to fight really hard not to laugh. Even father cracked an almost unnoticeable smile before fixing his hair with a spell.

 

“Now, let's get you match with your wand, Miss Silver.” With that he repeated the process of measuring me from head to toe. After he was done he went away returning with a few boxes. Once he opened the first one I recoiled a little. The thing would try its best to hurt me if I dared to touch it. 

 

“Not it.” I said before even touching the wand. Ollivander didn’t look bothered as he closed the box before opening the next. Once again the wand felt absolutely hostile which made me shake my head. This continued with a few more boxes before Ollivander’s face turned into a slight frown.  

 

“Silver, why don’t you give them a try?” Father said with an authoritative tone that made it clear it wasn’t a question. I wanted to refuse but knowing that it would serve no purpose I decided against it. The next box came and I analyzed the wand, ash with a phoenix core. The thing like all before it didn’t want me anywhere near close itself. 

 

“Well?” At father’s insistence I had no other option than picking up the murder stick. To everyone’s surprise except my own once I gave the shaking wand, because yes, it was imperceptibly shaking in unadulterated rage in my hand, the thing exploded like a grenade. 

 

Now, that would have been enough to make me a cripple with a fingerless hand if it weren’t for my special constitution and inscribed glyphs. Unfortunately, seeing as the wand was in direct contact with my skin the shielding function couldn’t do anything to protect my hand. 

 

“Fuck.” I couldn’t help the curse escaping my lips. Even though it didn’t hurt much, the visage of my fingers looking the wrong way wasn’t pretty. My palm suffering from second degree burns didn’t help either. To make matters worse, the feeling of mending flesh and moving bones was anything but pleasant. 

 

“Silver!” My father shouted a moment after the explosion mixing with my own cusing and Draco’s girlish scream. Ollivander for his part had fallen on the ground and seemed dazed. A moment after he stood next to me wand ready to cast any spell he would need to ensure my safety. He didn’t expect to see my fingers wiggling into the right position by themselves with audible cracking and popping of bone. He didn’t expect to find my burnt skin knitting itself at a visible rate while pushing wood chips out. It took no more than ten seconds for my hand to look as good as new. 

 

“What in the name of merlin…” My father muttered under his breath once my hand finished healing as he took it in his own examining the limb. For my part I was fuming. That had cost quite a bit of vitality! Months! wasted! Just like that! I wanted to scream and rage but I didn’t. Doing so would serve no purpose. Not to mention now I had to somehow explain my healing factor or act clueless. 

 

“Sis!” Looks like my dear brother finally came back. He had stopped screaming a while ago while looking at my healing hand. Once he stood up he proceeded to do the exact same as father. Unlike father though, I could see his eyes shining with curiosity once he understood I was just fine. 

 

“Mister Ollivander, I hope you have a good explanation for this.” Once the poor old man managed to shake the dizziness enough to stand that was the first thing he heard. My father, as expected, was livid. The old man for his part could do nothing more than smile wryly before trying to explain what had just happened. 

 

“Some wands may react violently when used by someone they can’t get along with. This is the first time I have seen one reacting this violently, however.” The old man explained while being kept at wand point by father.  

 

“All wands are like that to me.” I said, trying to get this farce over with. I much rather not have another wand go kamikaze on my hand thank you very much. Really, having your fingers bent the wrong way isn’t fun. Even though it didn’t hurt all that much, the simple feeling of wrongness is enough for me to avoid having the experience for a second time. 

 

“All of them?” Ollivander sounded both curious and incredulous. How could he not be? What I said was simply ridiculous. Normally a wizard should be able to use wands not their match even if they need to put a little more effort than usual. In my case any wand I try to use would go grenade. I didn’t bother to give much of an answer aside from a simple nod. 

 

“This is a first for me I must admit… I don’t know what to do to be honest.” The man said with a defeated tone. As the best wand maker in magical Britain or even the world this must be quite the blow to his pride. I bet it has been a really long time since the last time he wasn’t able to match wizard and wand, or witch and wand in this case.   

 

Father just glared at Ollivander for a good ten seconds before taking out seven galleons, placing them in the counter and leaving while pushing myself and Draco out the store. Now, I could guess what fathers next course of action would be and to tell the truth I wasn’t thrilled. 

 

“Dad, I meant it, no wand like me. The only wand so far that tolerates me is the one I have been using for the last year. Even the legacy wands at our home hate me too.” I said while looking sad, I wasn’t. I just needed to sell the act so he wouldn’t take me to a random wand shop elsewhere or worse, to knockturn alley. With a sigh, the father calmed himself down before speaking.  

 

“For the time being, keep using the legacy wand until we find a good match.” That’s all he said before looking around for a moment. With a slight nod father began walking again towards a sweets shop. Looks like he wants to get my and Draco’s mood up again by the simplest means at his disposal, sweets. 

 

After stuffing myself with sweets and ice-cream of the magical kind I decided to ask father for something simple. Normally we would rarely spend all that much time in a space this public. Now here is a great chance to just roam around. With that in mind I asked father to go window shopping. Draco liked my idea and so father couldn’t fight our combined might. 

 

“Fine, where to?” Looking around I decided to go into an ingredient shop. Why would I want to go there you might ask? Well, aside from the usual herbs used for potions there are also some really cool looking stuff. The place was more like a general store to tell the truth. There were even some useless stuff like a skeletal hand that would wave once you passed near it. It got my interest for the whole two seconds it took me to realize the thing wasn’t actual bone but enchanted plastic. 

 

Of course they wouldn’t use necromancy for some stupid thing like a waving hand with no use. Necromancy is a forbidden magic after all, still I have my interests in the subject so it couldn’t be helped that I got my hopes up for nothing. Another interesting thing I found was a jar of eye looking things. The little things swam around like tadpoles and would stare at whoever came close. 

 

Draco, like myself, was walking around inspecting the many weird things on the shelves. I was about to propose our next destination until something brushed at the edge of my senses. It felt strange, like it was calling to me but could do so all too well. Out of curiosity I decided to stay for a while longer while walking further inside the store. 

 

A while later the same something brushed against my senses again. This time I had been expecting it so I quickly tried to pinpoint its location. Unfortunately the experience was too fleeting for me to do so with absolute accuracy, all I got was a general direction. Following said direction I kept going deeper into the store until I stood in front of a door. It read: staff only. 

 

Father had noticed my strange behavior and so stood next to me with a questioning expression that looked not all that different from his neutral expression. I for my part was trying to figure out what was going on. The times the something brushed against my senses increased the closer I got, yet I couldn’t quite figure out what it was or wanted with me. 

 

“Father, there is something in there calling to me.” I decided to come clean about it. I wouldn’t be getting inside that place without causing a lot of trouble for myself. Instead, having father backing me up would make things simpler, at least until I got the object. 

 

Father didn’t bother with an answer. He knew the importance of something like this happening. Having something or someone calling to you in such a way could be dangerous. Seeing as I am a serious person that wouldn’t claim something like this carelessly he didn’t bother with questioning me. 

 

A while later he came back with a clerk whom I am sure he either bribed or made a deal with. No matter, it is none of my business. The clerk had a book under his left arm and a ring of keys on his right hand. Using one of the keys he opened the door before walking inside ushering us in as well. The back room was nothing more than a storage room. Now that I was inside, something’s calling became stronger. Watched by both father and the clerk I started walking with purpose until I came face to face with a small box on a shelf. 

 

“It’s this one.” I said while pointing at the box. My father just looked at the clerk who began leafing through the book he held after reading a stamp on the box. A moment later he reached the right page of the ledger. 

 

“It says here it is the tail hairs of a… huh.” My father wasn’t amused by the clerk's sudden stop as he gave the poor man the stink eye. With a rader audible gulp the clerk cleared his throat before continuing. 

 

“It says it is the tail hairs of the offspring between a thestral and an unicorn.” Well… that is something.