Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own nothing but the original characters I make.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 61: Wand Ceremony
November 24
Harry stood watching the burning building in front of him. Sirens could be heard in the distance.
A crow landed on his shoulder.
"You need to leave right now."
"I know… I was just making sure none of those bastards managed to escape the explosion." Harry patted the dust and ash from his robes before making his staff appear.
"There is nothing alive in there," said the crow before turning into a puff of black smoke.
Harry spotted two fire trucks rushing his way with a side glance.
This didn't concern him, as he was sure that by the time the muggles were able to extinguish the flames produced by his magic, there would be nothing left behind except for dust.
He tapped the staff on the ground, and a moment later, he was gone from there.
Harry reappeared in a familiar dark street. To his right was Madam Yafel's shop.
The door opened, and Morgan came outside. Her amber eyes looked him up and down.
"You look like shit."
Harry coughed a few times before glaring at her.
"Is that all you have to tell me?"
Morgan crossed her arms.
"Okay… what about this… You ruined the red dragon robes I made for you?"
Harry looked down at himself. The robes were extremely resistant to heat and magic, but they didn't do all that well when he was attacked with bullets and swords.
All the holes and cuts were a testament to this fact.
"They did protect me well from the flames, at least. Surely you have enough materials to make a hundred of these. And it's kinda silly that you would be upset about the robes."
"I spent many hours making those!" Morgan complained.
"And no, we don't have materials to make a hundred more, as I sold most of them. There should be enough to fix that one, though."
"Fine… sorry about the robes." Harry scoffed. "I am fine, by the way."
"I already knew you were fine. I had been watching you the whole time." Morgan opened the door of the shop. "Come on in. I'll prepare you a healing bath for those cuts and bruises."
"Now, that is more like it." Harry finally smiled. "Will you join me?"
"Don't push it!"
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
"Ah… this is bliss." Harry had his eyes closed and was enjoying his time in the bath.
His body felt completely refreshed, and the wounds he had accumulated over his visit to the Argent Flame weapon factory were now completely gone.
"She really knows what she is doing." Harry had to admit that when it came to the healing arts, Morgan was far ahead of him.
Which was kinda ironic, because with her enhanced healing factor, she did not need them.
The door of the bathroom opened up, and Morgan walked inside.
"Did you change your mind?" Harry asked with a mischievous smile. The bathtub was plenty big for three people.
Morgan held up a letter for him to see. "I forgot to give you this before."
"For me?" He took the letter and gave it a quick read. "Oh… it was today?"
"You'd better hurry up. There is time to make it to the wand weighing ceremony," Morgan said as she walked out of the bathroom. "I'll get you some robes."
"But the task is in the afternoon. Why do they have to weigh my wand? Seems silly."
"It's a tradition." Morgan's voice could be heard coming from the bedroom. "Is best to avoid risk breaking that soul contract, so make sure t—"
"Okay, I'll go." Harry grumbled as he stepped out of the bath and used a spell to dry his body.
Morgan then walked in while holding some clothes. She took a moment to stare at his naked body.
"You know… we have a bit of time if you are up t—"
She threw the clothes at him."No, we don't. Get going!"
<><><><><><><><><><><><><><>
She was not wrong.
When he arrived at Hogwarts, one of the professors spotted him and immediately rushed him to where the ceremony was taking place, saying that it had started thirty minutes prior.
"Mister Potter! You finally arrive!" Ludo Bagman, the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports, was the first one to spot him.
The short man made a gesture with his hand. "Come on, hurry. We have been waiting for you."
Harry was brought to the front of the excited crowd, where he found the other champions standing to one side.
There was a table; an old wizard was sitting behind it, while Barty Crouch Senior, the official organizer of the tournament, was staring at him with a deep frown.
"About time, Mister Potter," Crouch said. "You missed the interviews. But… I suppose there will still be time for one picture." He tapped the old wizard on the shoulder.
"But first, Mister Ollivander will check your wand, to make sure everything is in order."
"I will admit that I am very curious to see what kind of wand Mister Potter has been using… since it wasn't me who made it," Ollivander said.
'So, this is Ollivander.' He had heard about this man, of course. His family had been creating wands for over a thousand years.
If it wasn't because, at the time, he was concerned about exposing his presence to the public, he would have visited his shop.
'But I can't really complain about the one I have,' he thought.
Harry produced his wand. The movement was quick enough that, to onlookers, it seemed like he just made it appear out of nowhere.
He then placed it on the table in front of the wandmaker.
"Here it is."
Ollivander stared at the green wand with wide eyes.
"This is… interesting."
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