Chapter 2: Wand

Diagon Alley bustled with witches and wizards of all ages, their laughter and chatter filling the air as they prepared for another school year at Hogwarts. Nathaniel's father, a tall and imposing figure with a proud air about him, led the way, his stride confident and his voice booming with enthusiasm.

"Oh, you're going to love it, my dear boy!" he exclaimed once more, his arm wrapping around Nathaniel's shoulders in a gesture that felt more like a vice grip than a loving embrace.

Nathaniel forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. He nodded and muttered polite responses as they continued their journey through the bustling alley. His father's excitement was palpable, and while most children would relish the attention and support, Nathaniel couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the weight of his father's expectations.

A few days ago he was less than dirt to the man, and now all of a sudden he seemed to try and treasure Nathaniel. It was disgusting.

Nathaniel hated it, he hated the fact that he could smile at his father even after everything.

'Perhaps I deserved it...'

As they moved from shop to shop, gathering the necessary supplies for Nathaniel's first year at Hogwarts, the weight of his father's expectations pressed down on him. He couldn't escape the feeling that he was merely a pawn in his father's grandiose vision of a pure-blood dynasty, a means to restore the family's honor.

Nathaniel's thoughts were a turbulent storm of conflicting emotions. He couldn't deny that a part of him yearned for his father's approval, that he craved the love and recognition he had been denied for so long. But another part of him resisted, recoiling from the sudden change in his father's attitude, questioning the sincerity of it all.

As they entered various shops, Nathaniel robotically collected his robes, books, and potion ingredients, his mind preoccupied with the tumultuous thoughts swirling within. He barely registered the friendly chatter of other first-year students and their families around him, who were equally excited and nervous about the upcoming school year.

It wasn't until they stepped into Ollivanders, the renowned wand shop, that Nathaniel began feeling excited once again and paid attention. The dimly lit interior, lined with countless wands, held an air of mystery and anticipation.

His father, still in his strange happy mood, ushered Nathaniel forward as they approached the polished wooden counter where Mr. Ollivander stood.

Nathaniel's father exchanged pleasantries with Ollivander, a tall and slender man with piercing eyes that seemed to see through the very soul of those who entered his shop. the man gave Nathaniel a brief, appraising glance before returning his attention to his father.

Nathaniel stood there, somewhat overwhelmed by the excitement within him. He watched as Ollivander raised a hand to retrieve a wand, and his heart began to race with anticipation.

"Let's start, shall we?" Ollivander said, his voice a soft and melodic cadence that contrasted with the serious aura of the shop. He selected a wand and extended it toward Nathaniel.

The boy's eyes widened and he involuntarily flinched, his hands instantly shaking.

"Hm? Don't be scared my boy, give it a flick," Ollivander said with a smile, but he eyed Nathaniel's father somewhat suspiciously.

Nathaniel took the wand, his heart pounding with hope and expectation. He could feel the magical energy coursing through it, but when he attempted to wave it, Ollivander immediately snatched it and gave him a new one.

Ollivander observed Nathaniel carefully, his keen eyes searching for any signs of compatibility. When it became apparent that the first wand was not the right fit, Ollivander retrieved another, and then another. Each wand, though possessing its own unique qualities, failed to resonate with Nathaniel's magic.

His father's impatience began to show wirhin minutes of the testing, and he exchanged increasingly impatient words with Ollivander. Nathaniel felt the pressure mounting, the weight of his father's expectations bearing down on him.

'He's going to hit me again...'

Finally, Ollivander paused, his expression thoughtful. "We must be patient," he murmured, as if speaking to himself more than anyone else. "The wand chooses the wizard after all, and sometimes, it takes time to find the perfect match."

Nathaniel nodded, though his disappointment was palpable. He couldn't help but wonder if there was a wand in this shop that would truly choose him, that would recognize his worth.

Ollivander, undeterred by the series of unsuccessful attempts, continued to search through his vast collection. He moved to a section of the shop that seemed almost forgotten, covered in a thin layer of dust, and began rummaging through a box hidden in the shadows.

With a sense of intrigue and curiosity, Ollivander pulled out a wand, its surface covered in decades-old dust and cobwebs. He presented it to Nathaniel, who accepted it with slighbt discontent.

"This," Ollivander began, his voice taking on a more somber tone, "is a wand I crafted in my younger days, a product of experimentation." He carefully wiped away the dust, revealing the wand's elegant design. "It's 11 inches, made from yew wood, and contains dragon heartstring."

Nathaniel's heart skipped a beat, feeling a connection that he hadn't experienced with any of the previous wands.

Ollivander's eyes met Nathaniel's with a glimmer of recognition as he realized this one was different for Nathaniel. "What makes this wand truly unique," he continued, "is that it contains not only dragon heartstring but also a core of Thestral tail."

The word "Thestral" sent shivers down Nathaniel's spine, but this time, it was accompanied by a sense of wonder and awe. He couldn't help but feel that this wand, with its blend of dragon and Thestral magic, was meant for him.

"Give it a wave..."

With the yew wood wand in his hand, Nathaniel thought to a common spell he'd seen other wizards do. He gulped, waved the wand as he saw people do many times. "Lumos." and the wand responded with a gentle glow. It was a moment of magic and connection, and in that instance, Nathaniel knew that he had found his wand, one that had chosen him.

His father's impatience immediately faded as Nathaniel smiled widely.

"Look at you! Already casting spells, my sons a genius!" His father exclaimed, and Nathaniel's smile faded a bit, but he was still happy.

"Yes... Quite interesting," Ollivander said mostly to himself.

A few moments later, Nathaniel and his father left Ollivanders with the wand in hand.

"Hah... You know Nathaniel, I am starting to become proud of you," His father said as he grabbed his arm for apparition.

"Now you just need to get into Slytherin..." He finished with a glare, squeezing hard on Nathaniel's arm. This was a clear or else moment.

"Of course I will father... I'm a bullstrode after all" Nathaniel muttered back, his happy mood gone as they left Diagon alley.