A new chapter is up.
Come in, get comfortable, and let’s see what kind of trouble waits this time ❤️ ✦ They sat across from one another in the sitting room.
Edmund studied Snape for a moment and felt a complicated flicker of recognition.
In his previous life, Snape had been one of the characters he liked most by the end, though the early films had done a very good job of making him seem intolerable.
Once Edmund learned the shape of the man’s life, he had understood him differently.
It was cruel, unfair, and painfully human: Harry carried James Potter’s face into every room.
Snape had helped cause the death of the only woman he had ever loved, then lived the rest of his life inside regret, duty, and self-loathing.
For someone like that, death might truly have felt like release.
Snape, sitting opposite him, noticed none of those thoughts.
His voice was low when he began.
“Mr.
Gaunt, your surname is well known in the magical world.
Your ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, was one of the founders of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the founder of Slytherin House.” He paused.
“For various reasons, your family has declined in recent generations.
Even so, the heritage of an old pure-blood house still runs in your veins.
At Hogwarts, you may yet give that name weight again.” Snape went on to explain the basics of the wizarding world: Hogwarts, houses, shops, money, wands, the Ministry, and the general boundaries between magical and Muggle life.
Edmund listened carefully.
The name Gaunt had meant little to him before.
With Snape’s explanation, however, old memories clicked into place.
Voldemort’s mother had been Merope Gaunt.
The Resurrection Stone, one of the Deathly Hallows, had once been set in a Gaunt family ring.
If Edmund remembered correctly, that ring was still lying quietly in the old Gaunt shack.
That was a dangerous thought.
He set it aside.
After some time, Snape’s explanation came to an end.
“That is the essential information,” the professor said.
“You will learn more at Hogwarts.
Do you have any further questions, Mr.
Gaunt?” “No, Professor.
I am looking forward to it.” Edmund did not have to fake that part.
“I would very much like to see Diagon Alley.” Snape rose at once.
“Then stand beside me and take my arm.” He was efficient, if nothing else.
Once Edmund had a firm grip and steady footing, Snape Apparated.
The sitting room vanished in a sharp twist of pressure.
…
Diagon Alley.
Edmund looked around with open curiosity.
A long cobbled street stretched before him, busy with witches and wizards in robes.
Shop signs creaked in the air.
Owls hooted from somewhere nearby.
Cauldrons, books, robes, glass jars, and impossible things pressed against the windows on either side.
It was strange.
It was vivid.
It was real.
“We will visit Gringotts first,” Snape said.
“You will need Galleons.
The Gaunt family has declined, but as one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, it still possesses some reserves.” He started toward the white marble bank without waiting for Edmund’s answer.
Inside, Snape approached an open counter and addressed the goblin seated behind it.
“We require access to the Gaunt family vault.
This is the heir of House Gaunt.” The goblin looked Edmund over, then requested a drop of blood.
Edmund allowed it.
The blood was placed into a small magical vessel, tested, stirred, examined, and finally accepted.
Only then did the goblin lead them below.
The Gaunt family vault was numbered 710, deep beneath Gringotts.
Edmund also experienced the cart ride, which was every bit as unpleasant as he had expected.
He did not see a dragon.
Perhaps it was asleep, or perhaps that particular beast belonged to another part of the bank.
When Vault 710 opened, the three of them stepped inside.
The vault was large.
The fortune inside was not.
The Gaunts had clearly seen better centuries.
Still, a modest pile of Galleons stood near one wall, roughly two meters high.
“Fifty to one hundred Galleons should cover your school expenses for the coming year,” Snape said behind him.
Edmund had drawn plenty of Galleons from the system, but producing them now would raise questions.
He filled a pouch with two careful handfuls from the vault and left the rest untouched.
From Gringotts, Snape brought him to a narrow, shabby shop whose gold-lettered sign had begun to peel: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
For a wizard, a wand was more than a tool.
Snape naturally brought Edmund here first.
The shop was much larger inside than it looked from the street.
An Undetectable Extension Charm, most likely.
Narrow shelves climbed high along the walls, each packed with long, thin boxes.
“Good morning, Mr.
Snape.” A soft voice came from Edmund’s right.
An old man appeared beside them, his pale eyes bright and unsettling.
“It has been a long time.
Let me think.
Birch and dragon heartstring, thirteen and a half inches, yes?” “Correct,” Snape said flatly.
“This is Mr.
Gaunt.
I have brought him to find a suitable wand.” “The wand chooses the wizard,” Ollivander corrected at once.
Snape’s expression did not change.
Ollivander seemed unbothered by the coldness.
His attention had already shifted to Edmund.
“Mr.
Gaunt, is it?
I understand.
Which is your wand hand, my boy?” He flicked his wand.
A measuring tape floated over.
“Right.” The tape began its work, measuring wrist, forearm, shoulder, height, and several things Edmund suspected had no rational use at all.
Once the measuring finished, Ollivander led him toward the shelves.
Before the wandmaker could choose a box, however, the shelves began to tremble.
Then chaos broke loose.
Nearly a tenth of the wand boxes snapped open at once.
Wands shot out and swept toward Edmund, hovering around him in a slow, circling storm.
“Oh, my,” Ollivander breathed.
Even Snape’s expression sharpened.
Ollivander stepped closer, wonder overtaking his face.
“Remarkable.
Truly remarkable.
Let me see…” His eyes moved over the floating wands.
“Every wand that rose uses a phoenix feather core.” He looked at Edmund with something like reverence.
“My boy, your compatibility with this core is beyond anything I have seen.
My grandfather sold Professor Dumbledore his wand, and even that pairing was nowhere near this dramatic.” Edmund knew the reason.
Aurea.
The thought led naturally to another.
If he used one of Aurea’s feathers, would the wand suit him even better?
With a thought, fire gathered in the air.
Both Snape and Ollivander went still.
The flame opened, and Aurea flew through in a rush of scarlet and gold before settling gracefully on Edmund’s shoulder.
“This is my companion,” Edmund said.
“Aurea.
She appeared at my home two days after I received my Hogwarts letter, and we formed a bond.” For once, Snape seemed to have no immediate comment.
Ollivander stared at the phoenix as if a lost treasure had walked into his shop.
Outside of Dumbledore, few living wizards were known to have a phoenix’s recognition.
Seeing one perched calmly on the shoulder of an incoming first-year was not the sort of thing one forgot.
Edmund took the opportunity.
“I suspect Aurea is the reason phoenix-feather wands are reacting so strongly to me.
Mr.
Ollivander, would it be possible to commission a wand using one of her tail feathers?” Ollivander’s eyes brightened.
Phoenix feathers were rare even by Ollivander’s standards.
A new phoenix willing to offer one was not the sort of opportunity a wandmaker ignored.
Now another phoenix had appeared in his shop.
How could he not be interested?
Within moments, Ollivander had drawn Edmund toward the rear workshop, all previous restraint forgotten.
Snape watched them go, black eyes narrowed, as the old wandmaker and the young Gaunt began discussing terms.
CREATORS’ THOUGHTS AuroraVale Thank you for reading.
I hope this chapter pulled you a little deeper into the story.
Stay close, because things are only getting more interesting.