YOU MAKE MY HEART SHAKE, BEND, AND BREAK BUT I CAN'T TURN AWAY!
aurora "rory" archer was a powerhouse. well, sort of. she was a fierce friend with a heart of gold and a love of music. she was also awkward, bad at potions, and... fatherless. her frie...
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RORY HAD BECOME INCREDIBLY aware of how painful it was to simply exist over the next few days. It didn't help that there was nothing to keep her busy. Except of course, the twins creating an owl service for their products and sending out what they could to people. It was a very clever idea, but it didn't take up all her time helping out and most days, she was alone with her thoughts in a big house.
Rory came to the revelation that maybe she didn't like magic so much after all. She had always preferred to do things the Muggle way anyways. Perhaps she was just so caught up in the wonders of Hogwarts that because she was in the "real world", she recognized that it was all just a façade. Or maybe it was childhood that was the true veil and she didn't like being an adult so much. If she were in the Muggle world, she would have been at University, studying to get a cozy teaching degree and getting drunk on the weekends with her friends. But at the same time she would have never met Fred or her father or anyone else she cared for for that matter.
But still, she was curious what if. She couldn't go back and change the past, but maybe there was a way to have a new future. A future where she could keep all the people she cared for whilst giving up the one thing that seemed to cause all the destruction and heartbreak in her life.
She decided, what better person to talk to than a wand maker? The man who basically introduced her to magic, the man who knew more about it than anyone else... and the last person to see her brother alive.
Ollivander had arrived a few weeks after everyone else. She had only met him twice in her life, but when she knocked on the door to his bedroom one day, it was like they were old friends. He remembered her well it seemed.
"Miss Archer," he said quietly, "come in, please."
She smiled softly and walked over to where he was, hunched over a small desk, making a wand.
"For Miss Lovegood," he said, noticing her glance at his project. She nodded and sat down on the chair across from him. Her wand was in her hand, lazily held.
"Mr. Ollivander," she began, "My wand —"
"Yes, twelve and a half inches, unicorn hair core, and... dogwood, isn't it?"
She nodded, "Y-Yeah. You remembered —"
"Of course I remember. I remember feeling a particular sense of pity for you. Dogwood wands can perform some of the best magic, the most dazzling enchantments. But, they can be a bit mischievous and rather loud. Have you ever noticed you can't produce non-verbal spells?"
