Categories > Books > Harry Potter > Memories of a wand

Chapter 2

by SithJesto 0 reviews

What secret a wand could guard? Will Moody find the owner of the wand before the boy's destinity catch up with him?

Category: Harry Potter - Rating: PG-13 - Genres: Action/Adventure - Characters: Moody, Snape - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2007-03-26 - Updated: 2007-03-26 - 1686 words

0Unrated
Beta: kin2cats

A/N: The story is playing out in Marauder Era, pre-HP books. HBP does not count.

Chapter 2

The hunt for Grayback continued, without much progress. After searching the den, the Aurors ran into dead-end again. Moody decided he would search out the Boy's identity. Mad-Eye searched the system records for failed werewolf attempts, but found nothing, he looked thought the missing child records, both Muggle and Wizard, but nobody was missing the Boy.

He decided that the only one who could surely identify the Boy would be Olivander, if the Boy had bought his wand there, that is. If not, he could get information about the wand from the old wand-maker. It occurred to him that if he activated the spell to view the wand's memories again, while he was in Diagon Alley, maybe he could find some clue, which would help to solve the mystery of the Boy's identity.

As he walked down the Alley, he did not get any memory, like the wand's owner had never stepped in this place. It was unlikely; he clearly remembered the Boy's accent was from London. Everyone had their fond memories of the place. 'Strange, but it seemed everything was strange with this boy,' he thought with a rueful smile, as he stepped inside Olivander's wand-shop and was greeted by the older wizard.

"How can I help you this time, Auror Moody?"

"A wand," he said mysteriously, and pulled out the Boy's ebony wand and placed it on the counter. Olivander's grey eyes widened, and then taking the wand in his hand, his long fingers running over it, measuring and humming and "ahh-ing" along the way. His eyes moved to the Auror and their eyes locked before he started to speak.

"This is a special wand for a special, unique and powerful wizard." His grey eyes moved back to the wand and he narrowed them as though he could see thought the wood. 'Maybe he could,' thought Moody, as he watched Olivander at work. Then the man spoke again, without lifting his gaze from the wand. "Unique. Yes, unique balance between dark and light, between potions and spells and curses. The core is vampire and veela hair. I did not make this one. Yuack's... Yes, it's Yuack's work."

"And where can I found this Yuack?"

"In Knockturn Alley."

Knockturn Alley was more than just the bad guys meeting place, and the dark market. In this shadowed alley, people lived their everyday lives, and died without much notice from the outside world. The locals were mostly dark wizards, whores, assassins, murderers and dark creatures, the wizarding world's trash, but there were people who moved here due to necessity, they were the poorest of the wizarding world.

Moody was familiar with the alley, he had patrolled it many times, he may have even seen the Boy, but he did not know for sure, he hadn't seen the Boy's face yet. As he stepped into the alley, his left hand grasped the wand and he felt the familiar rush, and a feeling washed over him, he could find only one word for it: HOME. As he strolled deeper in, farther from Diagon Alley, the feelings got stronger and stronger, and then the memories assaulted him.

------------- Memory Scan -------------

A young raven-haired boy stood by the bookshop's dirty window and peeked inside, his clothing was torn, he was dirty, and Moody could feel hunger rolling out of the Boy: hunger for books, a thirst for knowledge.

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Then the memory faded, to be replaced by another one. This one came when his gaze turned towards the animal shop.

------------- Memory Scan -------------

The same boy, maybe a few years younger than the one he had seen by the bookshop, knelt by a pen, where kittens were put out for sale, as he put out his hand, a grey kitten instantly ran to him, and started to lick his fingers. The small boy beamed at the old witch, who smiled back at him, she had several teeth missing, her hair was in a bun, but a big mop of hair had escaped it. She was wearing a tattered robe which had seen bettered days.

"You can take him, child." Moody could feel the happiness radiating from the boy, just to be replaced by sorrow.

"I can't. He would kill the kitten." The child said timidly, the woman nodded grimly, and then smiled a very cunning smile.

"What he don't know, won't hurt him, child. If there is a problem you can bring it back and I will keep it safe for you." The Boy bit his lower lip as he thought over the woman's offer, and nodded, and some of the earlier happiness replaced. Moody could see it in the boy's unique jet-black eyes.

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As he went deeper and deeper in Knockturn Alley, he got glimpses of memories, but they were not strong enough for Moody to see them all. But it was clear the Boy grew up here, Mad-Eye hoped someone would be able to tell him who this boy is and where he could find him.

The wand in his hand felt warm and comfortable as he turned at the corner, not far from him was a run-down apothecary, feelings rushed over him, not his own feelings, but the Boy's: surprise, pleasure happiness, and pride. Olivander's words echoed in his mind, Unique. Yes, unique balance between dark and light, between potions and spells. Potions...Apothecary. He stepped up to its door and opened it. The place was dark, and smelled of herbs and potion ingredients. As he took a deep breath he felt like he was falling into the memories of the Boy.

------------- Memory Scan -------------

"What ya doing here, whelp?" Snarled a deep raspy male voice, as he grabbed the Boy by his hair and turned him to face the owner of the voice. The man had yellowish crooked teeth and a bad mouth smell, greasy long hair and piercing, slightly crazed, green eyes.

"No-nothing." The small boy mumbled, who could not be more than four years old. His small face was dirty and bruised. The man snorted at him and let him go. The small body stumbled back and almost fell over.

"Get out." Snarled the man, before turning away and strolled toward the back of the shop where a caldron was boiling. The Boy just stood there, nervously looking out of the dirty window, some of the older boys attacked him and he could not save himself, the only safe place around was the crazy Yuack's shop.

Moody saw the boy's terrified black eyes as he tried to calculate which would be worse for his health, his drunken father's beating, to give himself up to the older boys' mercy, or take his chances with the crazy Potions expert. But because the first two opinions were suicide, he walked up carefully to the unfamiliar man; he tried to walk in the shadows, to conceal his presence as much as he could. But the man's green eyes found him, and pinned him in place.

"I said get out." yelled the man, but the boy did not move. "Are you deaf, whelp, or what?" he snarled, then turned back to his work.

"What's this?" asked a small voice.

"Potion." snapped back the older, the Boy just rolled his eyes and stepped closer to see in the caldron.

"Which one?" the boy asked again, with a slightly annoyed voice. Moody was amused by the small boy's piercing, inquisitive gaze.

"Burn Salve," growled the man under his breath.

"Too thick." The man's head snapped up and his green gaze looked with black one, those eyes were too old and intelligent for such a young boy. The man, Yuack, sneered and answered.

"Not"

"Too." snapped back the Boy.

"Look Whelp..."

"Look Mr Yuack, this potion is too thick and the colour is slightly off, the Maruet's Potion Guide says it's caused by old eye of newt or tainted water," lectured the Boy. Moody and Yuack both were amazed by the knowledge from one so young.

Moody briefly wondered why no one seemed to know the child's name, he heard him being called Child, Whelp and he himself called the youngling Boy. Somewhere along the road, he was starting to like the kid, with each piece of the puzzle, the Boy became more and more important to him, more and more important to find him. The memory was disturbed by a deep, raspy voice.

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"What ya want here?" Moody looked up and came to face to face with the man he had just seen in the memory, he looked older, a few grey hairs could be seen in his black hair.

"To find the owner of this wand." With that said he pulled the wand from his pocket and held it up for the other man to see.

"Whelp" whispered Yuack, more to himself, than to Moody, when he first noticed the wand. "How ya get it?" his green eyes snapped up to Moody's face.

"My name is Auror Moody. We found this wand in a werewolf's den, while investigating werewolf attacks. I... we would like to find out what happened with the Boy."

"So he died."

"No. I don't think so. I think he managed to escape the attack but I'd like to know for sure."

"I have not see the Whelp for some time now, he went to school a few years ago and didn't see him that often after that, only summer time."

"It would help if you could tell me his name, or the name of the school he went to."

"The Whelp is Whelp. I never asked his name, and he never said. And the school, he never talked about it much; I knew just that he did not really like the place."

"You knew someone who maybe can help to find him or find out more information about him."

"He lived in Rouge Noir; ya know the brothel down the road."

"Thank you for your help, Mr Yuack."

"Just find the Whelp alive."

Moody nodded and left the small potion store.
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