you raise me up || harry potter

chapter 3: i'm not just a piece of trash

»»-----　song:　-----««

california

★ by ricky montgomery ★

❝ i am just a girl,
but with a little motivation, i'll go far;
i want the world to know that
i'm not just a piece of trash.❞

♢ ♢ ♢

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. Harry felt strangely as though she had entered a very strict library; she swallowed a lot of new questions which had just occurred to her and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of her neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

'Good afternoon,' said a soft voice.

Draco jumped next to Harry, and Harry fought her reflexes to do the same. A strange man emerged from the corner, eyes like twin moons in the gloom of the shop, and peered at the two.

"Hello," Harry said awkwardly, after realizing Draco was not going to say anything anytime soon.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Helena Potter." Harry bit her lip. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow.Nice wand for charm work."

Draco glanced at Harry for a fraction of a second while she swallowed. After years of deprivation from anything regarding her parents, it was still a jolt to hear anyone speak of them in a tone other than the Dursley's derisive, evasive scoffs.

"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand.Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it—it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Of course? Harry thought.

Draco voiced her question. "What do you mean, the wand chooses the wizard?"

Mr. Ollivander ignored him, and Harry felt the tiniest feeling of gratification that Draco's rudeness had been met with indifference. In a second, those silvery moon eyes were no more than a couple noses away, and Harry tried hard not to lean back.

"And that's where ..." Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger as Draco took the liberty to move further away in discomfort. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful,and in the wrong hands ... Well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do ..."

Harry quelled the strong urge to run out of the shop and into daylight. She didn't like hearing about her parents or Voldemort in this manner, and Draco was gaping at them both.

As quickly as he had neared, Mr. Ollivander drew away and fixed his gaze on Draco.

"Lucius Malfoy's son," he said cooly. "Yes. Lucius. Dragon heartstring core. Elm. Passed down to him by his great-grandfather. You are not continuing this tradition, Draco Malfoy?"

Draco raised his chin, though it trembled a little. "Mother says a wand is best suited to its original owner, sir."

"And she is right," Mr. Ollivander said, a little softer now. He melted back into the shadows, only to reappear with a box.

"Try this one," he murmured. "Hawthorn and unicorn hair, ten inches, reasonably springy."

Draco looked to Ollivander, then Harry, looking uncertain as to what he should do. Harry shrugged, and made a waving motion with her hand. Draco swished the wand around, and was immediately showered in a stream of silver light.