Black Dawn Ch.12: The Eleventh Birthday

The sky blazed a burning orange as the sun rose above the horizon, the light rolling across the gardens, gleaming on the droplets of the morning dew. Arcturus sat by the tall, arched glass doors, gazing upon the back garden, a cup of tea steaming in his hands, as he listened to the faint chirping of birds.

A pop shattered through the morning silence, and Melody placed a plate of eggs on the table in front of him.

“I’ll have breakfast with Harry today, Melody. It is his birthday,” Arcturus said. “He has been most excited for this one since his last birthday. And the birthday before that.”

Melody nodded, a little smile on her lips. “Now, Little Master can finally have his own wand and stop stealing yours, Lord Black. He’s been wanting to learn and perform magic for so many years, and from today, he finally can.” She glanced at the bright blue door that stood out from all others. “And Little Master’s been up for some time now. He came out to check if we had hidden any gifts before going back to his room. Now, I think he's getting ready.”

Arcturus glanced at the clock, raising an eyebrow. “So soon?”

“It is only natural, Lord Black. He wants to get his wand as soon as he can. He has especially wanted his own since Miss Susie got hers three weeks ago.” She paused. “Well, he has really wanted it since Miss Dora got hers over five years ago and went to Hogwarts.”

“That’s very true,” Arcturus said. “You made Harry’s favorite?”

“Obviously, Lord Black.” Melody beamed. “Everything today will be just as Little Master likes.” Her voice dropped. “Miss Andy and her family, alongside Miss Amelia and Miss Susie, will be here by the time you both get back with his new wand and his owl.”

He nodded. “I’ll try to take as long as I can to give you all the time to set up the surprise. Maybe take him around the alley too, under the pretense of seeing it once before his… official appearance.” He pursed his lips, glancing at the door, which was still closed. “Do you think we should do it? We could send him to Hogwarts without much fuss, and no one is going to trouble Harry once he’s under Dumbledore’s eye.”

Melody tilted her head, staring at Arcturus with her big brown eyes. “Lord Black, it is you who felt it’d be best if Little Master had a grip on his fame before Hogwarts. You said it’d be best if we directed the reporters, rather than letting them write anything they wished about Little Master. Miss Amelia and Miss Andy agreed with you too on that,” Melody said. “And we’ve known this day was coming since he became a part of our family. It is a part of who he is, one he cannot run from.”

Arcturus sighed. “I had hoped the hubbub would’ve calmed down after nearly a decade of the incident happening, but even to this day, we get letters and gifts from his admirers. When— if he makes an appearance in the coming weeks, I’m not sure what the reaction would be.”

“You have prepared Little Master for that, Lord Black,” Melody reminded. “So have Miss Andy and Mister Remus. I’m certain everyone will love Little Master like we do.”

“It is not the public I’m worried about, it’s the press, Melody. They will probably be expecting him today too, knowing that it is his birthday.” Arcturus’ jaw twitched. “And every wizarding child gets their first wand the day they turn eleven or mere days after. It is a small mercy that we’re going as early as we can, so the Alley won’t be unusually crowded. I hope that the glamor would be enough to have us slip in and out of Ollivander's without any fuss.”

“You shouldn’t worry, Lord Black. Little Master Harry is courteous, like you’ve raised him to be. He knows how to behave and talk like you’ve taught him. He’ll do wonderfully even if he’s caught by surprise.” Melody said, laying her small hand on his elbow. “And above all, you will be with him, Lord Black. Little Master is safe as long as you are with him. You won’t let anything happen to him. I know it.” 

"Of course I won’t," Arcturus said, his gaze shifting to the blue door at the sound of a faint click. It creaked open a sliver, and Harry peeked through, his emerald eyes running across the living room. "And I can see you peeking, Harry. Come on out." Harry flung the door wide and rushed toward them. "Birthday or not, that doesn't mean you get to run through the house, young man!"

“Sorry, Grandpa.” Harry slowed, walking steadily up to the table,  straightening his robes before grinning at them. “Good morning.”

Arcturus felt his lips twitch in approval. “A very good morning to you, too. And many happy returns of the day, young man. The eleventh birthday of a wizard is one of their most important. It is today that you’ll truly become a wizard.”

“Yes, Little Master. Happy birthday!” Melody chimed, snapping her fingers. In an instant, plates of breakfast— sausages, bacon, eggs, and a tall glass of chocolate milk appeared over the table. “I’ve made your favorite everything for your birthday.”

“Thanks, Mel.” Harry’s grin widened, the excitement in his eyes increasing as he turned to Arcturus. “And you should get ready after breakfast, Grandpa! We need to get to the Alley to get my wand today.”

Arcturus purposefully glanced at the clock on the wall. “It is barely seven in the morning. Ollivander’s won’t be open for the next couple of hours at least.”

“I know. But we should get there before time in case there is a queue,” Harry said, jumping onto his seat, and neatly picking up his silver cutlery. “There might be others who want their wands too, won’t there?”

“Not really. I have never seen more than a customer or two at Ollivander’s, let alone a queue,” Arcturus said. “He may be the best wandmaker in Britain, but not many wizards or witches need new wands every day. The best they go for is a new holster or a repair-and-polish from Ollivander.”

Harry’s eyes lit up. “So we will get my new wand as soon as we go, Grandpa?” 

“He has to find a wand that chooses you. It usually takes a few tries till he gets the right one.” Arcturus took a sip of his tea. “I took over a dozen tries. But his grandfather found me my perfect wand.”

“The one you still use?”

“Not exactly.” Arcturus shook his head. “My first wand broke in a duel against one of Grindelwald’s chief lieutenants. It was… gruesome, and after my wand broke, the man would’ve killed me. But your grandfather, Charlus, saved me. He spotted my wand shattering, and he rushed in, dueling and defeating the man himself.”

“Whoa,” Harry drew the word out. “That’s brilliant.”

“Your grandfather was an incredible man.” Arcturus smiled faintly, feeling his heart drum in his chest. “He was my best friend. You know? When he wedded your grandma, my sister, I was torn which side I should be on. Dorea wanted me to be with her, and walk her down the aisle while Charlus… well, he understood, but was short of a best man.”

Harry leaned forward, a fiery glint in his emerald eyes. “What did you do then? Did you walk Grandma Dorea down the aisle, or were you Grandpa Charlus’ best man?”

“I walked your grandma down the aisle. And then, I gave a speech as the best man, too.” Arcturus chuckled, feeling his eyes grow wet. “They were fun times, Harry. The connections, the friendships, the marriages… we had a world of fun.”

“Would I too?”

“Yes, I am sure of it. You would make a great many friends and create a world of memories that we, and even your parents, did. Make as many friends as you can, Harry. Believe me. Friendship is the one gem that never loses its shine. Sure, friends change, but friendship? True friendship will survive all time and tide.”

Harry smiled, nodding vigorously. “I will, Grandpa.”

“Good man, Harry. Now, I believe your breakfast is getting cold. And after breakfast, we—” He frowned as an owl fluttered to the window, tapping its beak across the glass. “— have to get your wand. Melody, why are we getting a letter directly? That’s not an owl I recognize either.”

Melody snapped her fingers, and the window opened. The owl soared in, flying a loop around the table and dropping the letter in front of Harry before soaring back out.

“Don’t touch that.” Arcturus drew his wand. “Who is it from?”

“It is addressed to me, Grandpa. In a really specific way. Mr. Harry J. Potter,” Harry read the green ink on the top. “Master Bedroom Two, Black Manor, Somerset.”

Arcturus frowned and waved his wand, muttering a couple of spells under his breath. The envelope glowed a faint green, a lighter shade than the ink, and he sighed, picking it up carefully.

“Oh.” He spotted the seal on the other side and smiled. “I should’ve guessed Dumbledore might pull something like that.”

“Why is Headmaster Dumbledore—” Harry’s eyes widened, and an excited grin spread across his face as he snatched the letter from Arcturus’ hand. “I got my Hogwarts Letter!”

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Harry’s emerald eyes followed Arcturus’ wand, squirming slightly as the magic settled over him, the raven hair turning a mousy brown and lengthening while his face changed slightly, his sharp cheeks flattening while his skin darkened a tone.

“We’ve done this so many times, but it still feels weird. I wish I could do magic like Dora,” Harry muttered, rubbing his cheeks. “Must we do this today, too? We’re getting late, Grandpa.”

“This is the last time we are doing this, Harry,” Arcturus smiled, tracing the shape of his faint, lightning-bolt scar, which disappeared. “And if we don’t, we’ll get even more late once we reach the Alley.” 

Harry frowned, running his fingers through his hair, trying to flatten it. “Do you really think everyone will swamp me if I go as myself? I mean, it was my parents who took down Voldemort, weren’t they? I did nothing. I was a baby, and I don’t even remember it.”

“Yet, you are the boy-who-lived. A symbol of hope and the sign that your parents live through you. Their heroism, their prestige, their love, their sacrifice… everything is in you. And they know it too. Loving you, in a way, is thanking your parents for what they did.”

“You know, Grandpa? Sometimes I wish they hadn’t,” Harry said softly. “If they hadn’t sacrificed themselves, they would still be with me. We would be a family like you and I are.”

Arcturus patted his back with a slight smile. “They didn’t have a choice, Harry. They wanted to save what was the most precious thing to them. Their family. Their whole world. You.”

He nodded, his emerald eyes staring back at him from the mirror. “And I won’t let it go in vain. I will be the best wizard I can, Grandpa. For them, for you, for everyone.”

“Good man,” Arcturus felt his heart clench. “Now, I am pretty certain that Ollivander will recognize you, regardless of your disguise. It is some family magic of his. So, once we are in the shop, we’ll have to undo these spells. But while we’re in, if someone else comes, there is a good chance that you’ll be recognized, and it might not take long for everyone else in the alley to know it too.”

“So we may get swamped regardless,” Harry grumbled. “Wonderful.”

“I don’t want anyone else to disturb us today. It is your birthday, the most special one. But we may not have control over that.” Arcturus looked in the mirror, changing his own hair color to a bright blonde. “Yet, if someone recognizes you while you’re getting your wand, be polite and request them to keep it to themselves. Remember, you’re not only a celebrity but also the heir of House Black.”

“I will, Grandpa.” Harry straightened his robes before sliding his watch onto his wrist and clasping it. “Can we please go now to get my wand?”

“Of course.” Arcturus picked his cane up and held out his hand, which Harry took, holding tightly. “Ready?”

With a sharp crack, they vanished, the world spinning around them before they stepped into a dimly lit bar, their pop of apparition echoing through the walls. Only the barman looked up, giving them a jaunty wave, one which Harry returned while Arcturus inclined his head.

Quietly, they made their way through the crowd, brushing past a purple turbaned man, to the small space behind the bar. Drawing his wand, Arcturus tapped the brick, and the wall moved, forming an arched doorway. 

Harry’s smile widened with every step as they walked down the cobbled street, his eyes lighting up as he spotted the shop sign of Ollivander’s.

“There’s Ollivander’s,” he breathed, tugging Arcturus forward and pushing the door open.

A tinkling chime rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside, which seemed empty except for the towering piles of boxes that stretched to the ceiling. Arcturus’ wand clicked in the silence, while Harry felt a shiver prickle over the back of his neck as he craned his head.

“Good morning,” a soft voice spoke, and Harry nearly leaped out of his skin as an old man appeared behind the desk, his grey, almost white eyes boring into him. “Yes, I thought I did be seeing you today, Harry Potter.” His eyes flicked to Arcturus. “But I didn’t expect you, Mr. Black.”

“Not many would,” Arcturus said, tapping Harry’s head with his wand, and he felt his face shift. “I’m Harry’s guardian.”

“So I see,” Ollivander’s eyes followed the wand as Arcturus removed the glamour on his hair. “Reed, Dragon Heartstring of a Hebridean Black. How has it been serving you since the repair?”

“Flawlessly, thank you. Your father did great work on it. We all had thought it couldn’t be salvaged. But he saved the core.” Arcturus smiled. “And now, we’re here for Harry’s first wand.”

Ollivander’s eyes turned to Harry, who resisted the urge to gulp as the man continued to stare eerily at him. “You look so much like your father, but you have your mother’s eyes. Oh, it seems only yesterday that they were in here, buying their first wands.” Ollivander waved his hand, and a measuring tape flew up from the floor and began to take Harry’s measurements. “Your mother was chosen by a willow and phoenix feather wand— rare are those who are chosen by the phoenix.”

“You knew her, Mr. Ollivander?” Harry breathed as the tape measured the length of his arm. 

“I only met her on the day I sold her wand. But I knew she was a curious girl. Curious and intelligent. Why, I was almost certain she’d be favored by a walnut wand.” He smiled, removing a thin box from the pile. “Your father, on the other hand, came in with your grandmother and was called upon by a mahogany wand. Mahogany and a Ukrainian Ironbelly heartstring. A powerful wand.” He offered the box to Harry, within which a beautiful ivory wand rested. “Aspen, dragon heartstring. Give it a wave.”

Harry's breath hitched as he extended his hand and picked up the wand. Before he could wave it, Ollivander snatched it back, putting it away.

“Not that one, I’m afraid.” Ollivander pulled out another box. “Perhaps this may work. Mahogany, phoenix feather. Ten and three-quarters inches.” 

“Like a mixture of my parents’ wand,” Harry said, a fierce hope igniting in his chest. With a trembling hand, he plucked the wand from the box, waving it.

Suddenly, a lamp exploded, and he jumped back, while Ollivander shook his head. “Not that one. Worry not, Mr. Potter. No two wands are the same, nor is it that the wand of the parents would choose the child. No witch or wizard can get excellent results with another’s wand, even that of their parents or siblings. Try this.”

As soon as Harry picked it, Ollivander snatched the wand out of his hands, shaking his head as he pulled another one out, before doing the same.

Harry looked at his grandfather, who gave him an amused smile while Ollivander continued to work, pulling wands out and handing them to Harry, only to snatch most back, a smile growing on his face.

“You are a tricky customer,” he muttered, pulling yet another box and staring at it speculatively. “Perhaps… perhaps you ought to give this a try— unusual combination — holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.”

Harry raised an eyebrow and took the wand, feeling a slight tingle run up his arm, before it shot out of his hands, bouncing into the back of the shop.

“Interesting.” Ollivander smiled brightly. “I had wondered what would happen with that wand.”

“Why?” Arcturus asked. “What was special about it?”

“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr. Black. I’m sorry to say I even sold the wand that gave your ward his scar.” Ollivander hung his head. “Yew, thirteen-and-a-half inches. A very powerful wand, and in the wrong hands, as it turned out, devastating.” He peered back into the shop where the wand had bounced off to. “That wand was its brother.”

“Well, thank goodness,” Harry said. “I wouldn’t want the brother of the wand that killed my parents, Mr. Ollivander.”

“I suppose that is true.” He nodded, putting the wand atop the growing pile of rejected wands, which was now almost as tall as Ollivander. “Worry not, we’ll find the perfect match for you, Mr. Potter. Perhaps… yes, perhaps.” 

Ollivander wandered deeper into the shop, disappearing amongst the boxes while Harry blinked, bewildered.

“Grandpa, are you sure he has the wand which would choose me?” Harry whispered.

“Ollivander always finds the right wand, Harry. Sometimes, it just takes time for him to find the right one. Never this long, but he seems more excited than I’ve ever seen the man.”

“A customer as special and as tricky as your ward is a rare find, Mr. Black.” Ollivander emerged from the piles, a thin, old box held in his hand. “This wand, Mr. Potter, my grandfather made when your grandfather was a boy. In fact, its core was gifted to us by your great-grandfather.”

Harry turned to Arcturus, who shook his head.

“I speak of your grandfather, Charlus,” Ollivander clarified. “One of his uncles had gifted him a pair of thunderbird feathers, one of which had reacted positively to him. So, your great-grandfather wished for the wand to be fashioned using the feather as its core. It was a blackthorn wand that chose your grandfather, Charlus, and he left with it happily. But the other feather remained with us.”

He slowly opened the box, revealing a long, knotted wand with a sharp tip and a slim, fashioned handle with small carvings spiralling around it.

“Elder wood, Thunderbird feather. Twelve and three-quarter inches… A very, very powerful combination. Try it.”

Harry slowly wrapped his fingers around the handle, feeling an electricity-like current shoot up his arm and sweep through his body as he picked it up. Tendrils of electricity cracked upon the pointed tip, and a warm breeze billowed through the shop as Harry felt a huge smile spread on his face.

“Congratulations, Harry Potter. You’ve been chosen,” Ollivander said, flicking his wand. 

The rejected pile of wands flew away, returning to their places in the shop, while Harry continued to revel in the magic that thrummed through his body.

“What can you tell us about it, Mr. Ollivander? The wand?” Arcturus stood, putting an arm on Harry’s shoulder. 

“Thunderbird-feather core wands are particularly rare in Europe. They are not native to us, primarily residing across the pond. Even there, they are rather picky in their wielders, much like the phoenix is. They seldom give their feathers to a wizard.” Ollivander took the wand from Harry’s hands, running his fingers over it. “Thunderbird feather wands are particularly suited for transfiguration and heavily inclined to the element of lightning and wind. Some have sworn that they can even shoot lightning-curses on their own, when their wizard is in danger.”

“Wow,” Harry whispered.

“The elder wood, on the other hand, is perhaps the single trickiest and rarest wood to work with. It chooses only the most remarkable and the most powerful of wielders. I could confidently say that there wouldn’t be even ten bearers of an elder wood wand all across Europe in the past century. Perhaps, even less than five.” His eyes flicked from the wand to Harry. “Needless to say, we can expect great things from you, Mr. Potter. Great, remarkable things.”

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“Congratulations, Harry. You’re a wizard now,” Arcturus whispered with a smile as they stepped out of Ollivander’s shop, their disguises back in place. “A true wizard, with a wand.”

Harry grinned brightly, carefully pulling the wand out from the new dragon-hide holster at his hip, feeling the magic thrum down the wood. “It is beautiful. I can feel the magic in it, Grandpa.”

“I suppose you would. It is a powerful wand. And your Grandpa Charlus would be proud that you have a wand so much like his. Your parents, too.” He ruffled the mousy-brown hair. “Did you know that your family chose the thunderbird as its emblem when they helped found MACUSA?”

Harry nodded vigorously, still admiring his wand. “Abraham Potter in 1693. He was one of the founders of MACUSA, and he became the first Head of their DMLE— much like Aunt Amelia is for us right now.”

“That’s correct. Good, you were paying attention to our lessons.” Arcturus pivoted him further into the Alley. “Now that you’ve got your wand, it is time to get you a birthday present.”

“A present?” Harry’s eyes flicked past him, and his face lit up with a smile. Arcturus followed his gaze and stopped cold just as Harry hugged his legs. “You’re getting me a Nimbus Two-thousand, Grandpa! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“No, no.” Arcturus hooked his cane on Harry’s shoulder and pulled him back before he could rush into Quality Quidditch supplies. “You aren’t getting the Nimbus two-thousand, Harry.” He sighed as Harry’s face fell in disappointment. “Hogwarts doesn’t allow first-year students to have their own brooms. And by next year, a newer, better model will be released. If we buy you a broom now, it’d be a waste.”

“So, you will buy me the new broom next year, Grandpa?” Harry asked, hope shining in his eyes. 

“I will buy you a broom next year. Which one it is will depend entirely on how you do at Hogwarts, how you behave there, and, well, which brooms are on the market at that time.” Arcturus gave him a severe look. “Get good scores, and behave well, and we’ll get you a good broom. Or we might wait, depending on what your uncle Ted comes up with.”

“Uncle Ted?” Harry frowned. 

“It’s a secret.” Arcturus winked. “You will know when you need to know. Now, we have places to be.”

“Grandpa, tell, tell, tell, tell.” Harry protested as Arcturus led him a bit further, ignoring his pleadings. “What’s Uncle Ted doing?”

“That’d be telling,” Arcturus smirked. 

“If you don’t tell me, I will just ask Uncle Ted then.” Harry huffed before turning to him with wide emerald eyes. “Please, Grandpa. It is my birthday.”

“That no longer works on me, young man.” Arcturus snorted. “And, we’re here for your present.”

He waved his hand at Eeylops Owl Emporium, and Harry raised an eyebrow. “You’re gifting me an owl? We have an owl, Grandpa. Apus would not like us replacing him with another owl.”

“Apus the Third is House Black’s owl, not yours,” Arcturus said. “You should have your own owl at Hogwarts so you can write to us and also take care of it as a pet. And believe me, Apus won’t get mad. You can keep the owl in your own room.” Arcturus removed a few galleons from his pouch and pressed them into Harry’s hands. “Go ahead and choose an owl. You’re old enough to buy one by yourself.”

Harry grinned and went into the shop, while Arcturus moved away from the store’s windows.

“Melody,” he whispered, and she appeared with a pop, looking haggard. “Are you all ready?”

“We were. Then Miss Dora tripped a few minutes ago and pulled down a lot of things, including Little Master’s birthday banner.” She fidgeted. “Thankfully, Miss Andy saved the cake. But we have to do everything again.”

“Right, obviously she tripped.” Arcturus groaned. “Alright, now put the decorations up as if we’ll enter the hall from my office rather than the front door. I have a second plan, thankfully. But it’ll buy you ten, maybe fifteen minutes at most. And ensure that no noise from outside would come into my office.”

“Yes, Lord Black.” She bowed and disappeared with a hurried pop.

Arcturus shook his head, letting out a long breath, before moving back to where he was, waiting for Harry, watching him move in the shop, a serious look on his face.

Five minutes later, Harry emerged from within, a cage in his hand with a beautiful, snowy white owl in his hands, which he held up proudly. “What do you think, Grandpa? Do you like her?”

The owl turned to stare at him with her amber eyes, as if daring him to say no.

“She is gorgeous,” Arcturus said, and Harry beamed at him while the owl let out a bark before tucking her head under her wing. “Shall we go?”

“Yes, Grandpa. I can’t wait to show Mel my new wand. And my owl!” Harry beamed. 

“Before you show her, there is something else we have to do, too. Something very special,” Arcturus said, taking Harry’s arm.

“What?” Harry asked.

Instead of answering, Arcturus tightened his grasp on Harry’s arm and apparated to his office, smirking at Harry. From the cage in his hand, the owl barked in protest, glaring at Arcturus, who raised an eyebrow.

“Sorry,” Harry muttered to the owl, and she tucked her head back under her wing.

“Well, you certainly chose everything which is one of a kind today,” Arcturus said, eyeing the snowy white owl as Harry placed the cage on a chair. 

“Thank you,” Harry said. “Now, what special thing did you want to do, Grandpa?”

“Patience.” Arcturus walked to the bookshelf, pulling a book out. “What we— or more appropriately, you are doing right now is your first, consciously chosen and cast piece of magic.” 

Excitement bubbled in Harry’s eyes. “You’re going to teach me a spell, Grandpa?”

“Not a spell, no. But it is something that we Blacks excel at. And you, Harry, are as much a Black as you are a Potter.” Arcturus smiled, watching as hints of red crept up Harry’s cheeks. “I’m going to teach you a bit of blood magic.”

“Blood magic?” Harry asked sharply. 

“Yes. It is the one thing we Blacks have always excelled at. It is obscure and many frown upon it, but it is like any other magic, if you use it right.” Arcturus flipped through the book. “Today, you’ll perform a small blood-binding. It isn’t a spell, but a… short runic ritual. It’ll allow you to bind something, in today’s case, your wand, to your blood.”

Harry blinked, tilting his head. “What’ll happen if I bind my wand to my blood, though?”

“Binding your wand to your blood will increase your connection with it. Which means you’ll be capable of casting the spells better and more easily than you might have without it. Also, the wand will be harder to wilt or break due to the blood magic, and most of all, no one would be able to use the wand except you.” Arcturus said. “Every Black has done this ritual when they got their first wands. My father had Dorea and me do it, I had my sons do it, and my sons had my grandsons and granddaughters do it. It is a tradition at this point.”

“Well, I will do it too, Grandpa.” Harry drew his wand, feeling the thrill of magic run through his arm again. “What do I have to do?”

“It is simple, really,” Arcturus turned the book toward Harry. “You have to draw a six-pointed star within a circle like shown, draw the binding rune in the center, and then place your wand on it. Once you do, you’ve to put seven drops of blood— one at each point of the star, in a clockwise manner, and the final drop on your wand. After that, you just have to touch your wand’s handle… and channel magic through. Which mostly is just holding it till the circle glows and the blood vanishes.”

“Really? That sounds… simple.”

“This is a very basic blood-bond, which is already the most basic concept in blood magic. If you began learning blood magic, you’d do this or something similar, within the first two or three lessons.”

“Oh,” Harry said, peering closely at the diagram. “What do I draw this with?”

“A special chalk.” Arcturus removed a gray chalk from his drawer, alongside two stencils and a wooden board. “It is a good conductor of magic, so when you draw the circle and the star, your magic will be in it. This is often used when working with Ancient Runes— you’ll learn those in your third year at Hogwarts.”

“Dora takes it too,” Harry said. “I remember that you gifted her a rune-carving kit last Christmas.”

“So I did. But we don’t need any carving, just drawing and a bit of blood,” Arcturus said, placing the board on his desk. “Come, I will guide you through it. I can’t draw it for you, because you must do it yourself.”

“Yes, Grandpa.”

Harry carefully drew the circle and the star within, before delicately drawing the rune in the center, ensuring that he didn’t accidentally rub off any lines. Once it was done, he carefully placed the wand on the rune, and Arcturus pricked Harry’s finger, grimacing as he winced. Slowly, squeezing the finger, they dropped seven drops of Harry’s blood in the right places before healing the wound.

“Now, you just need to touch the handle and feel your connection with the wand. Magic will do the rest,” Arcturus said. “Good luck.”

Harry nodded and touched the wand’s handle, feeling the magic thrum through his arm, which spread through his body as the star lit up with a faint blue light, the red drops of blood vanishing. The next second, the wooden board cracked and Harry flinched, pulling his arm and wand away.

“Congratulations.” He spun around at Arcturus’ voice to meet his grandfather’s smiling face. “You did your first ever piece of conscious magic, that too, flawlessly.”

Harry beamed proudly, throwing his arms around Arcturus’ waist, who chuckled, ruffling his hair.

“Take care of the wand. The first wand is always your most special.” Arcturus said. 

“I will, Grandpa.” Harry nodded solemnly. “I will.”

“Good man.” Arcturus smothered his smirk, knowing what was going to happen outside. “Now, why don’t you go and show Melody your new wand?”

Harry grinned and ran to the door, pulling it open. “Mel—”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HARRY!”

Arcturus grinned and swept outside to see Harry standing at the door, his mouth hanging open as confetti fluttered in the air. On the other side, Andromeda and her family stood alongside Remus, Melody, Bailey, Amelia, and Susan, all gathered around a large cake.

“Wha—”

Arcturus bent and whispered in Harry’s ear. “Happy Birthday, little one. Happy eleventh.”

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AND… DONE! Hope you all liked the chapter!

So, yes, Harry finally got his wand. Elder wood, Thunderbird feather core, 12¾ inches. And also, Hedwig. That’s the way more important part here :)

Anyhow, Harry is now officially eleven and will soon be going to Hogwarts after yet another trip to Diagon Alley. (To get his Hogwarts shopping done, meet with the media, and most importantly, interact with a few very important characters properly, on screen.)

Needless to say, it will be a lot of fun. And that is even before we get to Hogwarts, where we all will spend our time with some rather interesting personalities and have a ton of fun and danger ;)

The next update will likely be for RoLP. It is likely, but not a promise. It may very well be LoSP too, as the chapter is already a work in progress, much like the RoLP one. Though I do plan to put out an additional GotSIS update too, so we’ll see how that works.

A huge thanks to Tulayb and Mughil for betaing this chapter.

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Stay Happy! Stay Safe! Keep Smiling! Keep Reading!

HPfanfictioner66