Chapter 34
"Excuse me Mr. Ollivander. I will just be finishing up a few purchases outside. Mr. Potter, please wait for me here after your selection is finished." And she let herself out. Harry turned back to Ollivander to find him standing straighter, his eyes sharper than they'd ever been and an unnerving smirk on his face.
"Now that she is gone, would you like to show me the wand that you have been using. Mr. Potter"
A tense pause filled the room for a minute while Harry considered what to do. He could run. He could attack. Or he could talk.
"How did you know about that?" Harry asked warily, pulling out the Riddler's wand from his pocket and holding it at the ready. With an amused look, Ollivander took it from his hand.
"I am a wand maker, Mr. Potter. It is my job to know things about my customer's wands." Ollivander smirked as he looked at the bone white wand that Harry handed him.
"Yes. I believe this wand will obey you just fine. You've won its allegiance fair and square. Of course, Mr. Riddle has modified it, despite my many warnings not to do so," he said disapprovingly as he fussed over the shape. "Bone handle. Such a melodramatic one he was," he muttered as he cracked the bone open with a knife and washed the wand with some strange smelling green water, that somehow ended up giving the white a more golden sheen. He wiped it off before handing it back to Harry.
"There you go. I've taken the liberty of washing it clean of its dark magic. Perhaps it can one day redeem itself with you. Now, do hold on for a minute, I believe I know which wand will choose you. Wait here."
He headed back to the shelves and reemerged with an old looking box. "One of my best," he said as he handed it to Harry, upon whose touch the wand let loose a bunch of golden ribbons of light. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. In its heart it holds the tail feather of the same phoenix as your other wand, making them brothers. They will serve you well."
"Why are you doing this?" Harry asked, "Why give me two wands?"
"Because you will need it," Ollivander said before he disappeared into the shelves again.
Ping!
Quest Completed!
Buy all your school supplies!
Reward,
10,000 Exp
Your very own money vault!
Your personal wand!
Ping!
You have gained a level!
Harry Potter
Health-400/400
Mana-200/200
The Gamer
Title-The Boy who Lived
(+20 Str,+20 Vit, +20 Dex, while in Home Turf)
Level-8 Exp-16940/19200
Race-wizard
STR-8(+20)=28
VIT-4(+3+20)=27
DEX-6(+3+20)=29
INT-11
WIS-10
LUC-14
POINTS-15
MONEY- 175 / 2042G 182S 25K
Harry Potter is a wizard, the son of Lily Potter and James Potter. He has bad eyesight making it difficult for him to do well in class. His magic has gotten him trouble over the years in various schools. Strange things seem to happen around him. Harry is unaware of who he is, and wishes to find meaning in his life. Harry loves his mother, and hates the Dursleys.
Status- wizard, giving Harry - +3 VIT, +3 DEX and the ability to control magic, talk to snakes, control his appearance and look cool.
After waving away the screens, Harry awkwardly sat there waiting for McGonagall to show back up. After a while, a curious little question popped into his head.
"So why only three?"
"Pardon?" Ollivander said, peeking up from above a shelf. He was on the ladder.
"Why only 3 types of cores?" Harry repeated, "The books said that there were many types of creatures with magic."
"Good question," Ollivander replied, looking a bit excited to have heard someone ask a question about his profession to him. He climbed down and a chair dragged itself from the depths of the store, upon which he sat.
"Prior to my own proprietorship of the family business, wizards used a wide variety of wand cores. A customer would often present the wand maker with a magical substance to which they were attached, or had inherited, or by which their family swore. I, however, insisted that the best wands would never be produced merely by encasing the whiskers of a pet Kneazle or the stalk of a Dittany plant that once saved a wizard's father from poisoning, or the mane of a kelpie a witch had once met on holiday in Scotland in the customer's favorite wood. The best wands should have cores of immensely powerful magical substances, expertly enclosed in specially selected and complementary wand woods, the result to be matched to an owner with whom the wand itself felt the most affinity," he spoke passionately before pausing and chuckling.
"There was initially substantial resistance to my new way of crafting wands by the simple-minded folk. But it swiftly became clear that Ollivander wands were, forgive my lack of humility, superior to anything that had come before. My new methods of locating wand woods and core substances marrying them together and matching them to ideal owners are all, of course, secrets that are coveted by my rival wand makers worldwide."
"So . . . any chance you'll tell me about them?" Harry asked only half-jokingly. He'd felt the magic the old man was weaving and he knew he had to ask.
To his surprise, Ollivander chuckled, "Meet me after Hogwarts and we'll talk."
After much insistence, Professor McGonagall had finally agreed to let him off near Charing Cross, but not before making him promise to catch a taxi and go straight back home. Harry had no intention to go through the painful process of being apparated by someone else. Quickly, ducking into the bathroom of a nearby shop, he had shoved all his new stuff into his inventory and apparated on his own back to Number 4. Upon knocking on the door, Vernon had simply dragged him upstairs and shoved him into the cluttered second bedroom of Dudley's and left to talk to his wife in a hushed tone that Harry couldn't make out from his room.
Honestly, he couldn't bring himself to care about them anymore.
Thinking about how Professor McGonagall's words in the Leaky Cauldron had helped him more than she would ever know, he quickly started to rearrange and sort out his inventory, sorting his clothes and books out into separate boxes, taking extra care with the letter he had to deliver to Johnathon's son, when suddenly he came upon a book that he'd picked up in the forest. It was brown and had a single label on its cover, 'ID Create/Escape.'
With some hesitation, Harry picked the book up and suddenly a blue notification came.
Ping!
You have obtained a skill book! Would you like to learn the skill, 'Instant Dungeon Create' & 'Instant Dungeon Escape'?
YES/NO?
Harry gave a grim smile. This was his reward for killing an innocent man…
With a sigh, he pressed the yes button and suddenly the book burst into flames, letting the new knowledge flood into Harry's mind.
Ping!
You have learned two new skills!
ID Create, Lv-1 (0%)
Used to create Instant Dungeons. Higher the level, stronger the dungeon.
Current list-
Empty Dungeon- no monsters.
ID Escape, Lv-1 (0%)
Used to escape from Instant Dungeons.
Harry smiled at that and quickly closed the boxes. A lot happened in the dungeon. He had faced death and had come back stronger for it. He certainly felt strong, and yet the price of his strength weighed strong on him.
Still, at the end of it all, he had finally found a place where he belonged.
That night, for once, no nightmares came his way…only sweet dreams of a green-eyed red-haired woman and a man who looked like him lulled him to a peaceful rest.
"But that hurt, that pain in your heart is what tells you that you are human" is the line that kinda sets the tone for the story. So long as Harry still feels that pain, he will stay human. The day he stops…well, that's for a later chapter. ;-)
The Gamer's Mind failing in front of spiders thing from the last chapter was me setting up a plot point for Book 4. Let's just say that in 'fixing' Harry, the entities might've messed with his memories a bit. There is a certain thematic undertone that I'm going for with these books. Book 1 has Harry discovering his powers. Book 2 has Harry discovering the people around him. Book 3 has him discovering the source of his powers. Book 4 has him discovering his own past. Book 5, is of course, the culmination of all that.
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