DISCONTINUED--Letters I Can't Send (draco x reader)

22

a/n: omggggg so sorry. My laptop was doing some updating and downloading tons of files and shit, so, so sorry I couldn't write...but heres the next chapter—sorryyyyy. (I also probably wont do a/n's at the beginnings of chapters very often, but I will now 'cause I need to clarify what happened...tehe)

Y/n's POV

I get dressed for Diagon Alley today. A simple fitted shirt and jeans—nothing special—but I notice the bruises on my hip from where I fell. Or, I think I did, at least.

Draco told me everything he knew about what happened at the Quidditch World Cup, which was that Death Eaters attacked, basically saying the Dark Lord will rise again. I don't fully believe it, but there is still a part of me that fears if he will come back. I try to ignore it.

Draco also told me his parents and my foster parents were friends back in school, so they gave up some hospitality for us.

I merely fell badly on my wand—that's how it broke—and I guess hearing it from multiple people (and one caught off guard person) could make it true. So, I do believe it to be true—that I fell on my wand.

I check my simple outfit one last time in the mirror before exiting through my door. I was told to go to the upper parlor (on the second floor) for our departure to Diagon Alley.

As soon as I enter the parlor, I realize I'm the last to arrive. I see Draco roll his eyes at my being late, but I choose not engage. I quickly make my way to Amanda and Zachary. Amanda holds out her arm, and I take it. We immediately start spinning and all the air in my lungs has squeezed out, like I've been put through a long tube, stretching and twirling me.

This isn't the first time I've apparated, but it seems to still be alarming every time I go through it.

I try my best not to stumble as we reach solid ground. I notice Draco looking quite posh next to his father, like he's been doing this all his life. He probably has.

Zachary clasps his hands together and smiles cheerfully. "First things first," he starts. "we need to get you a new wand."

I suppress a huff of frustration. I'm grateful, yes, that I can get a new wand, but would do anything for my original wand to repaired. I've had experience with different wands, and none of them could compare to my own. So, yes, I am scared to get a new one.

The shop we step into is small, boxes line the walls, all the way to the ceiling. It smells of dust and burning candles. Suddenly, a frizzy, gray-haired old man peaks his head around the corner of a tall stack of boxes. Wand boxes, I now realize.

I give him a weak smile as he cracks a wide grin.

"Miss Ellis? Am I correct?" he steps out from behind the stack of boxes and makes his way to me.

I nod.

"Yes, yes. You look just like your father—and your mother," I hear bodies shifting behind me. Shifting uncomfortably. I shift on my feet too. My mother is not my favorite topic. The man pauses a moment, and I see the realization quickly light up in his eyes. "I'm so sorry for your loss." I knew my parents grew up in London, but no one ever mentioned them to me. But i certainly don't mind—I absolutely hate talking about them (for obvious reasons).

I nod again and clear my throat awkwardly. I look behind me at Amanda, Narcissa and Draco. Wherever Lucius and Zachary went, I don't know. Draco's watching me intently, as if analyzing my reaction to Mr. Ollivander's comment. I straighten my back and face the man again.

"We need to find you a wand," he says and hurries back into his maze of wands.

I stand there awkwardly for a moment, studying the room I'm standing in. The walls are lined with shelves with boxes upon boxes of wands. The wooden floorboards appear dusty, coated with the dust and scuff from boots.

I think about what Draco told me the other night. About the Death Eaters attacking, saying the Dark Lord will rise again. I shudder at the thought.

Mr. Ollivander comes back with two boxes. One, a navy blue, the other a burgundy red. He opens the burgundy box first, which reveals a simple, black wand, with a spiraling "vine" around its handle. "Black walnut, with a Dragon Heartstring core, 9 ½ inches." he hands me the wand.

As soon as I take it in my hands, I feel the magic course through me in a large wave—I roll my shoulders. It feels forced. It feels like something bad. I hear my breath pick up a bit.

"Well, try it out, will you?" Ollivander says.

I open my mouth to say any random spell, but I don't get a chance to. As soon as I take a breath, I feel the wand twitching in my palm. I look down to see cracks starting to form from under my hand. Splinters pierce my fingers and palm, I drop the wand to the floor with a clatter.

I step away from the wand with a horrified look on my face. I watch in terror as the wand splits itself in two on the floor in front of me.

"Shit," I mutter under my breath as I clutch my hand, fingernails digging into my skin, I watch blood trickle down the palm of my hand from the splinters that made its way into my skin.

"Fascinating..." Ollivander says, bending down to pick up the broken wand. But as soon as his fingers brush the wood of the wand, he winces and pulls back, as if it were hot. "How very fascinating..." he muses once more.

I quickly wipe the blood on my palm onto my jeans, hoping no one would notice, smearing over my hand and the denim, and tuck my hands behind my back.

Ollivander is finally able to pick the wand up, it seeming to have cooled down. He examines it curiously, before setting it gently on the front desk of his shop.

He clasps his hands together and smiles as if nothing happened. I look at him, baffled. "What, exactly, just happened, sir?" I ask cautiously.

"It wasn't the right wand for you, Miss Ellis," he says casually and turns for the next box on the desk. I look behind me once more at Amanda, Narcissa, and Draco. Every one of them has is practically gaping at me. No one says a word.

Draco stares at me with a look I can't quite identify. Respect? Fear? Concern? It all looks the same to me in this moment.

I look back to Ollivander, who presents the wand from the navy blue box to me. "Wood from a yew, unicorn hair core and 10 inches." I take the wand, more hesitant this time, holding it loosely by its carved-out handle. The wood is a dark brown, its bark-like texture is cool against my skin, it feels good. It fits perfectly in my grip as I hold it tighter.

"Lumos," I practically whisper, which is never a good thing to do while casting spells. And to my astonishment, a small light flicks at the end of the wand, growing larger and brighter. This time, when I feel the magic in the wand coursing through me, I know it's the right wand. This feels to unlike the last wand I tried, this feeling pleasant, yet powerful, and terrifyingly right.

"Nox" I whisper again, and watch the light at the tip of the wand die out as soon as the word slides past my lips.

I look at Mr. Ollivander, who watches me with a strange sort of curiosity. With a hand propped on his chin, he says, "It only took two broken wands to find the perfect match."

I smile weakly, before a new question forms in my mind. "You mean my previous wand wasn't the perfect one for me?" I ask.

Ollivander thinks for a moment. "I believe everything happens for a reason, Miss Ellis. And your old wand might have used to be a perfect fit for you, but then things change and people change. New starts deserve new changes." he takes the wand from my hand, placing it carefully back into its box.

I think I'm in a sort of daze from his words. They weren't too special, no, but they made me think. Did he mean that my wand broke for a reason, that I needed a new wand for the new person I was slowly being molded into? So many things have happened to me in the past couple of years, it's hard to recall everything—but the person I am now, is not the same girl from Massachusetts with two loving parents and a completely normal life.

But I do think Mr. Ollivander is right.

a/n: both y/n and draco have a unicorn hair core in their wands—coincidence? I think NOT lol. But I think we're pretty freaking powerful to be able to break a wand just by holding it, I'd be scared of me if I could to that lmao. 

But happy (late) thanksgiving if yall celebrate it <3