Chapter Text
Chapter 30: At the Core
He slowly arose from a comfortable deep slumber with a small smile grazing his features. Draco snuggled closer to the heavy blanket of warmth he was buried under. He didn’t want to open his eyes, let alone get up and face the day. Draco would gladly just forget the world altogether and stay cocooned in the arms of his boyfriend. Unfortunately, it seemed the world would not be so kind and considerate.
“Hey, lovebirds! You better get a move on, breakfast is over in about half an hour and classes start in 40 minutes.” Draco groaned at the words that felt as if they were both shouted directly into his ear and came from far away in another room. It took him a few seconds before the words registered in his still half-asleep brain, he usually woke up an hour and a half before classes, how on earth had he managed to oversleep like this? It was unprecedented.
Sitting up abruptly he jostled Ran who was lying half on top of him, Blaise was standing there with his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his lips. Mischievous as always, “welcome back to the living, hm whatever would you do without me Draco?” He commented teasingly, before adding an amused tilt to his voice, “your hair is a right mess, mate. I’d be careful if I were you or people will think you had a rumble with some kind of beast, oh and it’s that a bruise or a hickey?”
Draco must have looked angst because Blaise let out a fit of laughter while Fior rolled their eyes and reprimanded their partner, “leave them be love, it’s not like we have never shown up a little dishevelled to class.” Blaise didn’t look the least chastised, instead he straightened his back and puffed out his chest, proud as a peacock.
Fior looked over at Draco apologetically and bit their lip as if not to snicker themselves, “I would at least comb that hair though, I have to say you resemble Finnigan after one of his many explosions.” Blaise totally lost it at that and bent over double, he clapped Fior on the back as if to show his approval of their clever way with words. Draco winced, clearly it couldn’t be as bad as Finnigan’s failed muggle scientist impression.
A giggle could be heard from his right and Draco turned his head sharply to see Pansy shaking her head but sporting a wolfish grin. Draco felt his cheeks heat, he wondered how long his friends had stood there and watched them sleep, had they giggled and gossiped about them while they cuddled in their sleep?
He brought his hand up to his hair and ran his fingers through it to no avail, he needed product or at the very least a comb. He feared his attempt to make his hair behave and become at least somewhat presentable had only made the situation exponentially worse. He gave up and pouted at Pansy while giving her a hurt look, “I’m hurt Pans, I at least thought you would wake us up.” Pansy faked an innocent expression and blinked at him, “I didn’t have the heart to, you see Draco you just looked so cute all cuddled up on the sofa like that.”
Ran finally stirred behind him, “sure tell yourself that Pansy, I’m sure it has nothing to do with wanting to be the most put-together student this morning.” Pansy's eyes widened and her expression turned clueless making Ran laugh an octave or so lower than normal, Draco’s blush intensified. He liked the way Ran was rough around the edges when he had just woken up.
They had spent a few hours last night studying in front of the fire and had ended up just lying down and talking quietly when they had finished their assignment. They had just been too warm and comfortable to move, especially as the elves had come and given them some hot cocoa and a bigger blanket to share. Draco could get used to evenings like that, minus the rude awakening of course. They must have fallen asleep on the couch, which meant all of Slytherin house must have seen them all snuggled up and vulnerable this morning.
That explained how they had managed to oversleep, he had an alarm set on his wand and Draco had left it upstairs on his nightstand. There was a ruckus as Greg and Vince came down the stairs with a series of bangs echoing in the room, like two trolls with two left feet. They usually went up at the same time as Draco so it was understandable that they had also overslept. Draco chuckled, those two didn’t know how to be graceful or quiet and could wake up a whole alley without even trying.
Ran leaned in and whispered in his ear, “if you want you can use my wand to fix your hair love, I know you feel a little embarrassed.” He hated that he felt embarrassed over being less than perfect, how his tousled hair made him feel insecure. He had learned from a young age that having even one hair out of place was disgraceful, not worthy of a Malfoy. Not good enough. He hated feeling not good enough.
Even with how he didn’t feel like a Malfoy most of the time and had never truly lived up to the expectations, had never been the heir Lucius had wanted. Would never be accepted for who he was and therefore wanted to be disowned and set free. Even with that being the truth, it was sometimes hard to shut down those voices inside his head that were telling him how to be and how to act to be worthy of the Malfoy name. The conditioning of being a respectable pure-blood wizard, the respectable aristocrat, the ice prince of Slytherin.
Even if that wasn’t who he was some of the ingrained ideals he had been fed growing up were so deeply rooted in him it was hard to overcome. He turned his head and kissed Ran’s cheek in a silent thank you, he took the offered light brown wand in his hand.
Draco felt his breath hitch and his hand tremble as the magic of the wand reacted with his own and reached out to him and filled him up as it sizzled through his veins. It was more powerful than anything he had ever felt before, the wand spoke to him like the wind blowing through the tree tops, the water billowing down a clear stream, and the fire sizzling and cracking in the hearth of a newly lit fire. The sensation of holding his own wand was only a faint echo of how it felt having Ran’s wand in his hand. He blinked in confusion, it shouldn’t be possible. How could it be?
He whispered a Retifico, a spell he had created which was similar to Reparo but was made to rectify something that had been put amiss rather than to repair something broken, and made a circular motion above his own head. A gust of wind put his hair in immaculate order, it swept it to utter perfection. More than that the strands shone like metal, the finest platinum.
The spell had never done that before, it was as if everything had been intensified. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were tiny sparks going off around him as well, it was all so surreal. Draco felt euphoric and couldn’t help the surprised laugh bubbling out of him.
A gasp was heard through the common room, he was unsure from who it had come from. It seemed as if everyone was as stunned as him. Draco still couldn’t grasp how it was even possible, how on earth had Ran’s wand worked so well for him. There was no reasonable explanation for what had just taken place.
Fior was the first to break their stupor, they cocked their head to one side, “Ran’s wand lifted your magic to new heights, even with connectional compatibility that is unheard of.” They mused to themselves more than to anyone else. They looked deep in thought and Draco reasoned that if even someone as studious as Fior, who was somewhat of an expert in magic theory, was left perplexed there was little hope for any of them to understand the mystery of what had just taken place.
Connectional compatibility, Draco dragged in an unsteady breath, he hadn’t even thought that far. He should have hesitated before using Ran’s wand. What if he hadn’t been able to cast a simple spell correctly, what would that have meant for them as a couple? Not that he was insecure in their relationship. It had still been a big step, a test of their union of sorts. A test they had passed with flying colours, better than should have been possible really. Draco had a bad feeling in his stomach, a feeling that something was wrong. They had to figure out what.
Greg muttered to Vince, “what type of wood is Ran’s wand, pine or ash?” Vince shook his head resolutely, “nah mate, that is a willow wand.” After he said those words Vince furrowed his brows, as if actually contemplating what that actually meant.
Willow, a wand for those who had insecurities well hidden. A wood which was most suitable for those who had a long journey ahead of them before reaching their full potential. Draco looked back at Ran, a boy who was strong-willed and knew what he wanted. A wizard who was a determined leader who spoke and moved with confidence and reassurance that Draco himself lacked at times. Draco thought willow to be a wand material that would suit him much better than it suited his lover.
“Rastaban, what is the core of your wand?” Vincent said with an urgency to his voice as he made his way up to them. His beady eyes were looking intently at the wand still in Draco’s hands. His tone sounded almost angry as he asked the question, as if he wanted to smash something or someone with his bare hands. Draco had a feeling Vincent had figured out what was wrong, somehow he’d done so before anyone else.
Ran shrugged, “unicorn tail hair, why?” Draco let out a gasp and Vincent fisted his hands until the skin of his knuckles turned ash white. Everyone was looking at Ran, some with pity and others with a barely held-back rage in the lines of their face.
Draco didn’t want to believe they would have been so cruel, that they would go to such lengths to keep Ran from himself and his own magical power. He didn’t want to believe Ran’s parents would ever do such a thing to their son. That the light led by Dumbledore would ever stoop so low, however all the evidence was there. There was no other explanation for Ran to possess this wand.
Even his own parents had never been that cruel, they may not like that he had a light magic affinity, might not even accept it but they had never tried to stifle or suffocate his magic. They knew that nothing they did could ever change that fact. They wouldn’t have wanted him to be merely mediocre. Even if they thought dark magic to be superior they still knew that all magic was sacred and something to cherish.
The fact that Ran hadn’t even been given the chance to be the best he could. Hadn’t even been shown the well of his own ability. It was a true disgrace, there were no words for the disrespect and disregard for his future. It was as if they didn’t want him to succeed, that they didn’t want him to exist. They didn’t care for him enough to give him the means to flourish. They wanted him to turn into someone he was not, they would do whatever it took to turn him inside out even if that would have left him a mere shell of who he could have been.
That was the thing that made Draco the most emotional, Ran being robbed of the chance to be more. The fact that Ran was still sitting here with them and had broken free of their manipulations even with everything they had done to try to kill his spirit and who he was at the core, it was beyond astonishing. Ran was astonishing. Draco was more sad for Ran than he was angry, anger didn’t make things right. They didn’t make things any better. Even if he knew his friends’ anger could be a motivator, to take back what had been stolen. The right to make your own choices and to lean into your own magic.
He leaned his head on Ran’s shoulder, wanting to be close to him. He wanted to be there for support when Ran was made aware of the tremendous grievance that had been done towards him. The way they had tried to silence his magic by force, had tried to morph it into something it didn’t want to become. Magic in a way had its own life and will and it wouldn’t bend, it would sooner break and parish than twist and turn in the hands of the enemy.
Blaise paced in front of the fireplace, “we can’t let them get away with this, the letters were bad enough, but this…” Fior was by his side and laid a calming hand on his shoulder. Fior could be vicious but they always retaliated in a silent clever way, never hastened out of anger and desperation. They would be the voice of reason in any given situation. Draco knew without a doubt that you shouldn’t mistake Fior for docile and merciful they would want to make the ones responsible pay just as much as anyone else, if not even more.
Draco shivered wondering how many more there were like Ran, who had been treated unfairly and had all but been dumbed down and shaped into little false followers by the light. A silent try of conversion without any release, a muffling of minds and magic. A prison where you didn’t even know you were kept behind bars. Was there a worse crime?
“Why are you all looking as if the core of my wand is bad news? It’s as if it’s worse than if Quidditch was once again cancelled for the year and Umbridge was back at Hogwarts put together.” Ran laughed at his own joke, no one else joined in. Ran surely wouldn’t laugh when he realised how bad it was, Umbridge wasn’t even a big problem in comparison to this.
This was on another level of deceit and trickery, this was a systematic way to keep the dark descendants of the light in line. As if cutting away a defective limb, leaving the “patient” magically disabled. The light saw the dark descendants as muggle cancer who had to be cut out and treated with poison, only it was like treating the healthy and leaving them crippled.
He was brought out of his musings by a lone third-year running through the common room, his robes a mess and his hair could have used one of Draco’s Retifico charms. It was as if he had just woken up and was late for class. Draco’s eyes widened, wasn’t that why they had stumbled upon this waste injustice made towards Ran.
He used Ran’s wand to cast a Tempus, feeling the humming of warmth every time the magic flowed through the willow wood. The wand felt as right in his hand as his own heart in his chest, the wand already felt like an extension of himself. He didn’t want to have to hand it back to Ran, parting with it would be physically painful.
The numbers glowed, only five minutes until class. Maybe it was for the best to wait and have this conversation later. After all, they had a lot to discuss and it would be better to do that in private. It wouldn’t hurt if Ran’s brothers were present as well. this was their family and they deserved to know the truth. To set things right. Perseus had shown to be of great help, his knowledge and connections were greatly appreciated. Draco was reassured in knowing that Ran at least had some family he could count on.
“We should have a meeting tonight to discuss this new information, Ran why don’t you invite the twins and Perseus?” Ran looked a bit irritated being kept in the dark on yet another issue which everyone else seemed to know the truth about. Draco could understand his frustration, there was so much about magic his parents had neglected to teach him. Ran conceded with a curt nod.
They scrambled off the couch to make their way out of the common room and up the stairs towards transfiguration. Daphne touched his shoulder just before they slipped out the entrance. “Can I ask Colin to come tonight?” She asked while glancing over her shoulder to reassure herself that no one was paying them any attention. Draco was surprised but happy that Daphne finally felt comfortable and could include her boyfriend in their group.
He thought for a moment, there would be a few Gryffindors there with the twins and now Colin. He and Dean were seen together a lot after Dean had his falling out with Finnigan after Ran had been resorted. He thought back to how well they had gotten along in the library and decided it was more suspicious to not include Dean, people would surely wonder what Colin had wandered off to alone after dinner. He knew Ran missed his Gryffindor friends and Draco would also be glad to spend some time with them. “Sure, he can even bring Dean as well if he wants to.”
Daphne nodded and smiled in relief, Draco was sure Colin would be happy to be included and to be able to not have to keep it a secret from his best friend. Daphne nudged him, “as you weren’t at breakfast I brought you an apple, and a sausage roll for Ran.” Draco smiled and nodded his thanks before he took the offered food.
They truly had the best of friends. Draco could do without food but Ran could get quite hangry so Daphny’s kind gesture was more than appreciated. Draco loved Ran but he could get quite moody and easily irritated on an empty stomach. Draco missed how Daphne let out a relived breath, she had brought the food back just as much for her peace of mind as for the boys. She winked at Blaise who was similarly occupied on the other side of the entrance. He was emptying his robe pockets of shrunken food which most would consider enough to feed a small army, or in their case enough to satisfy Vincent and Gregory until the end of their first lesson.
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The little bell chimed as the door closed after the little girl when she left the store with her parents in tow. Ollivander sighed in defeat as yet another customer left his store with a wand that wasn’t compatible with their magic. His conscious was screaming at him to do something, he just stood there motionless watching the family disappear down the street.
He had always been a proud wizard, one who had prided himself on his high rate of success and happy customers. His life had always been linked with his livelihood, his profession meant the world to him. He had followed in his family’s footprints and embraced the craft of wand-making wholeheartedly.
To match the right wood and wand core with the right person was like solving the most magnificent puzzle, seeing the answer to a most peculiar riddle. There was no joy like when you got it right. When it all clicked into place and the magic flowed freely. The smiles, the wonder and the world of possibilities that opened up right in front of a young witch or wizard were the most wonderful things imaginable.
To lie and deceive someone that they had the best wand for them when in reality it would only hold them back, it was making Ollivander sick to his stomach. It made him sleep poorly at night. It was like forcing left-handed children to write with their right hand or for seekers to only play keeper. It was as if the sorting hat would place children in houses where they didn’t belong.
He had tried to protest when Dumbledore had first raised the issue, of how a dragon heartstring wand could “lure those with weak restraint” toward the dark arts and towards evil. As if it was one and the same, evil and dark magic. He had tried to argue that pear or apple wood wasn’t for everyone. That unicorn tail hair although versatile couldn’t lend itself to every personality. He had said he wouldn’t sell a wand that wouldn’t serve their master well.
Ollivander looked at the many boxes stored on his shelves, piled high from floor to ceiling. There were wands for every type of person in here dark as light. Even so, he was not allowed to match the wand with the wizard. He had always been a firm believer that the wand chooses the wizard, that wasn’t true anymore. If a wand was never presented it couldn’t chose or be chosen.
He still remembers the day a few years ago when Dumbledore had stopped suggesting he change the way he matched the wand and wizard. The day his guidance and veiled manipulations had turned into threats. It’s dangerous selling wands that are easily manipulated by those who possess darkness within, wouldn’t you agree? Wouldn’t it be better if those who are born a black sheep but are surrounded by a light family only had the choice to go down a light path themselves? Garrick, don’t you see by giving them the right wand you would save these poor souls from ever going dark? You’d be doing it for the greater good, old friend. Imagine if for some reason you couldn’t sell wands anymore, wouldn’t that be a shame?
As a former Ravenclaw Ollivander had always been good at reading people, Dumbledore couldn’t fool him. He saw right through the old headmaster, saw that his intention was not to save the poor souls from the dark but rather to chase away any darkness that they may possess. To repress parts of magic and never let them know how wonderful it could be to feel whole with magic herself. It wasn’t about choosing the right wand for the wizard, it was about choosing the right wand to prevent their affinity to be realised.
Ollivander hated himself for it but he had nodded and said, yes Albus and of course Albus. He had had no choice in the matter but to agree, wasn’t it better to be able to give the majority of the population a wand they could cherish than to not be able to help anyone at all? The few people he had to sell wands that didn’t match, they were in the minority after all.
He had tried to justify his cowardice by telling himself he didn’t have much of a choice, he couldn’t defy Dumbledore and keep his job. He was backed into a corner and he had chosen to fall in line. He was starting to wonder if he had made the right choice. If it was worth it, if he couldn’t do his job the way he wanted to then what was the point? The joy of wand-making had been snuffed from him like a lit candle derived from oxygen.
He was doing his best with the cards he had been dealt, but a magical being with a dark affinity would never match well with a wand with a core of unicorn tail hair or one made with apple or pear wood. It was unprofessional to let a light core or wood even be presented to one of dark leaning, let alone sell one. He was ashamed of his own weakness.
If they even got the whisper of warmth or a single spark coming out of the tip it was more than anyone could hope for. He had been made to sell wands that were chosen only because it didn’t react badly with the customer. They had to settle for the bare minimum. The wand would work against them more than with them, that was the truth. He hated when he had to see a wand being placed with someone with whom it could never bond.
Ronald Weasley had been the first to be sold a wand that didn’t belong in his young hand. He had had to present him a higher number of wands than usual but the one he left with had produced both warmth and sparkles, Ollivader had unwisely thought it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
He had been the first but far from the last. Many after him had not been as fortunate as to settle on a wand that could bond even remotely with the adolescent witch or wizard.
Ollivander was tired of being a part of the problem but didn’t see any way in which he could break free. Dumbledore would know if he sold a wand he wasn’t supposed to and the repercussions of his betrayal would be swift. He was breaking his oath as a wand maker and it was breaking his heart to do so but he saw no other options. His hands were tied. He wasn’t sure who he hated the most Dumbledore or himself.