5 Chapter Four, Wand

Chapter Four, Wand

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[A/N: This chapter is a bit weird, I don't know much about other wand makers other than Ollivander so I wrote everything randomly and the chapter is a bit shorter than others as well. Good Day.]

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Gregorovitch Zauberstäbe, the only store which remained unchanged even after fifty years. Gellert was amused to say the least, last time he'd been here was to steal the Elder Wand, of which Gregorovitch bragged so much about. And now he's here to buy one.

Georg cocked his head to the side and asked, "What is this?"

Gellert replied, "How are you supposed to start using magic without a wand?"

"But," the boy murmured, "I can already do magic."

"To some extent," Gellert replied, "but your magic isn't stable enough to only use wandless magic."

With the tinkling of a bell ring from the shop's depts, both walked inside. The shop appeared small and narrow from the outside, but Georg could see a large number of rows inside, like a library, each with wooden archives in which, the open ones, had rectangular boxes tightly fitted into them. Normally, having anything larger on the inside than the outside should be impossible. Georg frowned for a few seconds before schooling his features and dismissing the thought as the wonders of magic.

"Guten Tag," Georg said, his voice tinged with a British accent, since the storefront was in German and they were in Germany, he decided to try out some of the German he had learned from books he had stolen from the school library. The arrival of the owner was announced by a few creaks in the floorboard, the wand-maker was undoubtedly the old man with wispy hair and a white goatee who appeared from the depts of the shop and approached them.

"Zdravstvuyte," the old man said in Russian as he approached the counter, his eyes narrowing at Gellert. Despite the fact that German was the official language of Kaliningrad, wizards preferred Russian.

"I wish to purchase a wand please," said Georg in English.

Gregorovitch looked at the boy for a few moments as if to say "evidently," but then returned his gaze to Gellert with narrowed eyes, which the two noted.

"Ve cannot zell vands to children under the age of eleven," the wand-maker said in an almost commanding tone in English. The old man didn't wait for Georg's response and violently spun backwards and began walking away, but Gellert noticed something very unusual at the same time. As he turned around, a small necklace protruded from the old man's shirt, and it was a very familiar necklace, after all, Gellert was very familiar with the deathly hallow symbol.

"Wait," Gellert ordered in German as he took a step forward and undid his transfiguration. The wand-maker gave him a cold stare; it had been fifty years since anyone had dared to order him around, and the last time it didn't go well for the opposing party. But Gregorovitch came to a complete halt as he gazed at Gellert's familiar smile, which was a gentle, smooth, charismatic, and almost comforting smile.

"W-who are you?" The wand-maker screamed, his voice went almost silent as he inhaled deeply.

"Don't tell me you forgot about all of that, Mykew? I remember seeing you at a few rallies." Georg could see the mirth and amusement in his grandfather's eyes as he responded with his wand twirling around his left hand, and despite the fact that they both spoke in German, Georg knew what his grandfather was doing.

"L-leave, before I call the aurors on you!" Cried Gregorovitch.

"Call the aurors, really Mykew?" Gellert chuckled, which turned into a full laugh. "I'll gladly tell them you support me when they come to arrest me... Threats are a very bad idea against me, you know that, Mykew..." he added that last sentence seriously, almost barely more than a whisper. Gregorovitch's mouth fell open, and he drew his brows together, sweat beads visible on his brow. "I-I- I am sorry, sir, I don't know what came over me."

"Oh, you don't need to be afraid my old friend, you are a valuable friend and ally, at the moment…" Gellert said as he rested his hand on the wand-maker's shoulder.

Gregorovitch nodded silently, took a few deep breaths to calm down, and straightened his spin. "Thank you, thank you... So, what brought you here today? I suppose a wand for the little one," he concluded in English.

"The little one is my grandson and Heir, please do not refer to him as 'little one,' and yes, we will require a wand for him," Gellert replied in English.

Gregorovitch frowned slightly but nodded, obviously concerned about the prospect of a Grindelwald Heir. He came closer to Georg, almost gliding around the corner of the counter. Georg simply raised an eyebrow and gazed calmly at the wand-maker; he wasn't about to lose a stare-down, even if he secretly hoped the old man would blink.

"Hmmm," Gregorovitch said, completely ignoring Gellert, "Vell now- Let me see," he said as he pulled a long tape measure with silver markings from his pocket, "Which iz your vand arm?"

"Left, I'm left-handed," Georg replied.

"All right, now 'old out your arm, Yes that iz it," says the wand-maker. Georg's arm was measured from shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and around his head by Gregorovitch. Georg was considering snapping the old man's neck for wasting his time at this point.

Gregorovitch had already returned to the shop's depts when Georg realized the tape measure was hovering under his nose, measuring his nostrils. Gellert smirked as he leaned against the counter. Gregorovitch was flinging boxes onto the floor and muttering to himself, as if looking for something.

"Ah ha, these should suffice," he said, returning to Georg with a stack of boxes tightly bundled in his hands. He placed the boxes on the counter and opened one of the bronze-colored boxes.

Gregorovitch took out a fine looking wand with vine twirls around it and handed it to Georg. The boy took it and, unsure of what to do, simply raised an eyebrow at the wand-maker.

"Vell," Gregorovitch sneered, "Wave it around."

Georg nodded and waved it, red sparks came out and boxes flew high, the wand-maker snatched the wand away immediately afterwards. "Try zhis one," said Greogrovitch handing him another wand.

Again, red sparks fluttered, and shattered archives flew high into the sky before crashing into the ceiling with a loud thud. The wand-maker grabbed the wand and handed it over again.

This cycle lasted almost two hours before Gregorovtich became enraged, muttering, "Vhat is this?! I've never seen anything like it in my entire life!" As Gellert narrowed his eyes towards Georg, the wand-maker on the other hand was on the verge of pulling his hair out.

Gregorovitch then froze and looked at Georg with wide eyes for a few seconds before walking back to the end of the shop. He reappeared moments later, wearing dragon-hide gloves and carrying a dusty black box. With a thoughtful look, the wand-maker slipped back once more behind the counter. "Zhis iz a very special wand, so if it rejects you, you might feel a bit… weird," whispered the wand-maker with fear in his small voice.

Georg took out the wand and felt both relieved and a strong sense of negativity emanating from it. The wand was a fifteen-inch pitch black wand with golden markings written on it. Georg swung it around, and the wand let out a scream that sounded like a Dementor's before he felt it connect to him.

The wand-maker paled and stared grimly at the boy. "I'm curious what is it made out of?" Asked Gellert as he too felt the negativity.

"This wand is supposedly believed to have belonged to Ekrizdis, Lord of Azkaban," Gregorovitch sputtered before adding, "I myself know nothing about it and acquired the wand from zhe English Minister trying to get rid of it."

"Are you sure?" Gellert asked, looking back and forth between Georg and the wand. "Why haven't we heard about it?" He inquired of the wand-maker, his gaze remaining fixed on the wand.

"I already made the mistake of boasting about the Elder Wand fifty years ago and have since learned my lesson, and bedsides, I would never touch the wand and they are just rumors," said Gregorovitch.

Georg, who held the wand in his hand, was astounded; he'd spent most of his life doing wandless magic, so being able to channel so much of his power so effortlessly piqued his interest. He was eager to try out every spell he could, particularly the imperius curse Gellert mentioned at the orphanage.

Gellert shot a thoughtful look at the mysterious wand before turning his attention back to the wand-maker, "How much?"

"Nothing, nothing, consider it a gift, I already know with zat wand, he will do great things," Gregorovitch waved him off.

As his clients walked out, the wand maker said, "Have a nice day, junker Georg von Grindelwald."

Georg was too overjoyed to have heard what Gregorovitch said, while Gellert just raised an eyebrow. "Of course, we were never here," said Gellert as he closed the front door.

"Who?" Asked Gregorovitch with a knowing smirk.

While the pair walked back and navigated through the crowd, Georg asked impatiently as he examined his pitch-black wand with golden markings written on the wood, breaking his normally angelic and calm mask,"Can we now go home, I want to try out some spells."

"When you use your wand, keep in mind that power belongs to the people who use it. It has nothing to do with their hard work, desires, or rightful qualifications. The desire to take is often all that is required. And to answer your question, we'll first pay a visit to an old acquaintance." Gellert replied, taking a graceful walk with his hands behind his back.

"Alright, and who is this old friend?" Asked Georg, titling his head to the side,

"Well, you'll find out," Cooed Gellert with a smirk, once more extending his right arm towards Georg who huffed and took it. The pair apparated away in the middle of the street, mid-step and with a silent pop.

***

Somewhere in Bulgaria.

Vinda Rosier was a ruthless and powerful French witch, who was loyal to her Lord, Lord Gellert Grindelwald. However, she had to go into hiding when Dumbledore captured Grindelwald, though she knew that one day, he would escape.

She was beyond ecstatic when she read the news of Grindelwald's escape and started preparing her manor immediately for his arrival. But was quickly dejected when he hadn't shown up for the past six months, she feared that he would have forgotten her.

Currently she was sitting in front of the fireplace reading a book Grindelwald gave her as gift before his capture. When suddenly, the door opened to reveal a smirking Gellert Grindelwald accompanied by a confused boy.

"My dear Vinda, I hope you have remained faithful; I need some help with raising a child…"

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[A/N: So first off, no this isn't 'that' kind of fanfic, I just wanted the MC to have something with Azkaban and Dementors since its an interesting concept that no other fanfic really explores. I mean what's better than Dementors to take over the wolrd?]

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