Unique Wand

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Master Valencia hesitated for a moment before continuing, "There is one more wand I have, but I doubt it will work. It's not amazing or rare; on the contrary, it is as simple as it can be."

She brought out a wand that looked plain and unremarkable, made from an unknown tree without any core. "This wand was an experiment. My theory was to create the ultimate wand that would truly be shaped by its user, but without a core, it lacks the focus needed to channel magic effectively. Instead of enhancing the magic, it tends to diminish it."

Harry looked at the wand, intrigued by its simplicity and the challenge it posed. He reached out and took it in his hand. Immediately, he felt an odd sensation, as if the wand was both pulling and pushing his magic. It was a strange and unsettling feeling, but there was potential there.

Señora Valencia watched him carefully. "What do you think?"

Harry gave the wand a few experimental swishes. The results were mixed—sometimes a faint spark, other times nothing. "It's different, for sure. I can feel it's trying to connect, but it's like it's missing something essential."

Valencia nodded thoughtfully. "That's what I feared. It's a concept that requires further refinement. Still, I wanted you to experience it."

What Valencia didn't know was, Harry felt something. He felt a piece of Astral Soul wanted to occupy the empty space within the wand, but he kept that urge suppressed. "Master Valencia, I would like to purchase this wand, please."

Señora Valencia looked genuinely surprised. "Are you certain, Harry? This wand is unfinished and unpredictable."

Harry nodded confidently. "Yes, I'm sure. There's something about it that feels right. I believe it can grow with me."

Valencia studied him for a moment, then smiled. "Very well, if you are determined." She wrapped the wand carefully and handed it to Harry. "Consider it a gift. Let me know if you discover anything remarkable about it."

Harry took the wand, feeling a subtle connection. "Thank you, Master Valencia. I will."

The bustling streets of Madrid once again greeted them. Mrs. Zabini led the way, pointing out interesting landmarks and magical hotspots. They spent the rest of the day exploring the magical corners of the city, immersing themselves in the rich culture and history.

By evening, they found themselves in a quaint café, enjoying traditional Spanish pastries. The conversation flowed easily, touching on everything from magical theory to local legends. Harry listened intently, absorbing the wealth of knowledge shared by Mrs. Zabini and Blaise.

As the sun set, casting a warm glow over the city, Harry felt a deep sense of contentment. This trip had opened his eyes to new perspectives on magic and had provided invaluable experiences.

The next evening, they prepared for their journey back to Britain. Mrs. Zabini had arranged for a portkey that would take them directly to the Ministry of Magic in London. As they gathered their belongings, Harry took a moment to appreciate the hospitality and kindness shown by the Zabinis.

Yhey activated the portkey and the familiar sensation of being pulled through space enveloped Harry, and moments later, they arrived at the Ministry. The bustling atrium of the Ministry of Magic greeted them, and Harry felt a sense of familiarity wash over him. 

"Thank you for everything," Harry said sincerely. "This trip has been incredible."

Mrs. Zabini smiled warmly. "It was our pleasure, Harry. Remember, you are always welcome to join us again."

Blaise grinned. "We'll have more adventures together, I'm sure."

"Let's head home," Blaise then suggested, and Harry nodded in agreement.

After arriving in London, Harry quickly called Misty, and the two of them returned home. The moment Harry stepped inside, Petunia was there to greet him with a warm hug. Harry embraced her back firmly, finding comfort in the familiar gesture. Once they settled in, Misty promptly brought a pot of tea. Harry sipped it, realizing just how much he had missed the simple pleasure of a well-brewed cup of tea.

Petunia, always curious, began to ask questions about his travels. "How were the other countries, Harry? What were the magical places like compared to Britain?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, considering how best to describe his experiences. "Every place has its own unique magic, Aunt Petunia. Spain, for instance, is vibrant and colorful, with markets full of rare artifacts and enchanted items. The people there are passionate about their traditions and magic. It felt different from the more structured magic we have here."

Petunia nodded, intrigued. "And what about Nigeria? You mentioned you'd be learning some ancient magic there."

Harry smiled, recalling the rich culture and powerful magic of the Nigerian tribe. "Nigeria was incredible. The tribe I stayed with has a deep connection to their magic, one that goes back generations. They see magic as a part of life, deeply intertwined with nature and the spirits of their ancestors. It was a humbling experience, learning from them."

As they continued to talk, Harry shared more details about his journey. He described the bustling streets of Madrid, the hidden magical markets, and the sacred places in Nigeria where he felt the raw power of ancient magic. Petunia listened intently, her eyes wide with fascination.

"What about the people you met?" she asked. "Did you make any new friends?"

Harry nodded. "I spent a lot of time with Blaise and Mrs. Zabini. They were wonderful hosts and showed me many magical places in Spain. In Nigeria, I met Chieftain Obafemi and Shaman Priest Ayo. They taught me a lot about the Astral Soul and how to connect with my own magic on a deeper level."

Petunia smiled, clearly pleased with Harry's enthusiasm for his travels. "It sounds like you had quite the adventure, Harry. I'm glad you're back home safe." She hesitated, a touch of unease in her voice. "But who exactly is this Mrs. Zabini? Why haven't I heard of her before?"

Harry noted a slight tension in Petunia's tone. But that couldn't be right. He dismissed the thought and explained, "Mrs. Zabini is Blaise's mother. She was incredibly helpful during our trip and showed me around Spain. She's very knowledgeable about magical places and has traveled extensively."

Petunia's curiosity seemed to deepen. "And how did you end up traveling with them?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, recalling the sequence of events. "Blaise and I have become good friends over the years. His father, Chieftain Obafemi, is a leader of a magical tribe in Nigeria. He invited me to join them on their trip, as Blaise was visiting his father anyway. Mrs. Zabini was more than happy to have me along."

Petunia nodded slowly, processing the information. "I see. It's just that you never mentioned her before."

Harry chuckled. "To be honest, I didn't know much about her until this trip. She's quite a character—confident and very knowledgeable."

Petunia seemed thoughtful for a moment. "So, is this Mrs. Zabini and the Chieftain... are they a couple?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so. They seem to be separated. Mrs. Zabini didn't come with us to Nigeria."

Petunia squinted slightly, as if piecing things together. "I see." She then got up, with no hint of fatigue in her movements. "I feel a bit tired, Harry. I think I'll rest early tonight."

Harry looked bewildered. "What is going on?" he thought. He exchanged a puzzled glance with Misty, who simply shrugged as if to say, "No idea."

Harry decided not to dwell on it. Although portkey travel was instantaneous, he still felt tired. He retreated to his room and lay down on his bed, drawing out his new wand. He focused on his Astral Soul. After assimilating Voldemort's soul fragment, he noticed it hadn't fully merged with his own soul. He could sense numerous memories within that fragment, and he knew that fully assimilating them would be overwhelming. Compared to Voldemort, he was only fourteen years old. If he forcefully assimilated those memories, would he still be himself? He wasn't sure. To be honest, he was scared. He feared that complete assimilation might erase his identity, either turning him into Voldemort or creating a disturbing mix of the two. That's why he was taking his time.

He also felt an unusual connection between the soul fragment and the empty wand he had obtained from Master Valencia. The idea of using a human soul as a wand core was intriguing and somewhat unsettling.

Harry stared at the plain wand, feeling a tug from the piece of Voldemort's soul. The fragment seemed to want to settle in the wand, to fill the void within it. He pondered the implications. Could he actually use this dark fragment—although now purified—to power his wand? The idea was both fascinating and terrifying. 

Sighing, he thought about what he learned so far. Harry had already watched some of the memories. To his surprise, he was seeing them in reverse. Perhaps it was because Voldemort's older memories were darker and more powerful, as even he was pure and innocent when he was just a baby. He was afraid to assimilate too many of them, so he only saw snippets of visions of an orphanage, and that was all. 

After some pondering, he allowed the soul piece to move to the blank wand. He was not certain if he would be able to assimilate those memories again if the wand took the soul piece, but even if he couldn't, he would just feel safe that it was the hand of fate.

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