Working Through the Rest

New Roman Numerals

Three days later, Scorpius, mum, Draco and I walk into Ollivanders. I didn't think I'd ever come back here for myself and I can't help but feel incredibly uncomfortable. I struggled to buy a wand before, to find a match that worked, even remotely, when everything was actually okay. And now, everything is falling apart. Or, it feels that way.

Scorpius and I haven't left the Hospital Wing since I first found him in there, and the rest of the school don't appear to have noticed we're back. I'm glad. I'm glad that the only person who has come to see us is Rose, strangely quiet and subdued.

Scorpius barely even paid attention to her while she sat with us, even though she didn't bring up any of what she normally brings up to annoy Scorpius. His silence worried her, and terrified me.
"Albus," Scorpius looks at me quietly.

I jump slightly, retracting from my thoughts as I focus looking on him. He's got huge bags underneath his eyes from where he's lain awake in the night, staring at the ceiling. If it's quiet, we murmur to each other and I try to convince him to attempt sleep. He refuses, even with the Sleeping Draught beside him. He says it doesn't stop his dreams, and then he offers it to me. And I refuse it too, claiming that I don't need it. So, neither of us sleep.
"Scorpius," I smile. "Yeah. Sorry." I pause, breathing. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Scorpius says quietly. "I was wondering if you were."

I force another smile and we walk around the shelves of wands to find a small, quiet man sat at a desk, placing a strand of hair into half a wand. The other half lies behind him, in a box on the shelf. He looks up as we stop, smiling serenely.
"You two?" he looks at Scorpius and me.

I nod slowly, looking at mum. There's something almost creepy about the man. He's smiling calmly, looking in our direction, though it doesn't feel as if he's looking at us. More through us. And it's eerie.
"Yes, thank you," mum says, calmer than either Scorpius or I has been in weeks.
"Well then," Mr Ollivander stands up, clapping his hands. "Who first?"

Scorpius looks at me and I shake my head quickly, looking at the floor. He nods and I let out a low breath.
"I'll...I'll go first," Scorpius says.

Mr Ollivander nods, looking him up and down calmly. He smiles again, walking away as he flicks things off the shelves.
"I am not my father," he returns with several long, thin boxes, which he sets down on the desk. "I do not remember every wand I've ever sold." No one replies as he unpacks one of the wands. "I do, however, remember every person who has ever stepped into my shop. So, I think I've at least got some claim to his legendary memory."

Mum smiles, nodding along, but she looks a bit uncomfortable, like she wants this to be over. She probably does. She came with me last time, and that was an utter disaster.

Mr Ollivander offers a wand to Scorpius and he takes it awkwardly. I watch his fingers run up and down the handle, tracing where the Roman numerals were on his old wand. He told me once that he'd carved them on himself. And now it's gone. It's gone because of me.

Scorpius waves the wand timidly and nothing happens. Almost instantly, it's replaced with another, which he attempts to wave again before it's replaced with another. And another. And another.

The pile of tested wands on the desk continues to grow, and with every addition, I find myself wiping my palms on my robes again. I don't want to do this. I really don't want to do this, or be here. So, I shut my eyes, listening quietly to the noises of the street that have made it past the shelves of wands, until I hear a quiet chiming and something flashes through the dark.
"Congratulations," Mr Ollivander smiles. "Fir wood. Unicorn hair. Fourteen and a half inches. Rigid flexibility."

Scorpius nods, smiling awkwardly. He looks vaguely at peace, or at least, he doesn't look scared. Which is good. Mr Ollivander turns towards me, still smiling calmly. I look at mum nervously and she takes my hand, squeezing it gently. I take a deep breath as he looks me up and down before wandering away, flicking boxes off the shelves. I need to promise myself that it's going to be okay, because if I don't, I don't know what will happen. I step back slightly, leaning against the edge of a shelf. I feel sick.

When Mr. Ollivander comes back, he places the stack of boxes on his desk. It's a considerably larger pile than he brought for Scorpius and I swallow nervously. He knows I'm pathetic at magic. He remembers.
"Try this," he says gently, unboxing the first wand and passing it to me.

I wave it awkwardly, unsurprised when nothing happens. No one comments as Mr. Ollivander passes me another. And another. And another. As the pile of tested boxes grows, my attempts become more and more pathetic and feeble. I keep stopping, trying to force myself to breathe. Draco is pacing, which doesn't help me feel any better about how useless I am.

When I reach the thirty-ninth box, I have barely taken the wand when a strange warmth spreads between my fingers and I allow half a smile to crack through.
"And congratulations to you, Mr. Potter," Mr. Ollivander smiles. "Fir wood. Phoenix feather. Twelve and a half inches. Slightly springy."

I nod, starting to feel my breathing returning to normal. I have a wand. It will be okay. I might be okay.
"Can we go back to classes now?" Scorpius asks as mum pays for my wand.
"Neither of us have had the required eight hours of sleep," I point out. "McGonagall said we need to sleep eight hours overnight."

Scorpius nods, putting his new wand in his robe pocket. I do the same, and mum takes my hand.
"Ready?"

I nod and the four of us walk through towards the front of the shop. Through the window, a woman with short blonde hair makes eye-contact with me, smiling. I look away. I don't want to fix things only to create more problems.

Maybe it's wrong to assume that everyone is a problem, but it's better than trusting the world and then having your life shattered into shards.