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Golden Hearts	By : BetaBloodLust Category: HP Canon Characters paired with Original Characters > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3689 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: See Full Disclaimer Below--Any chapters containing explicit material will begin with warnings for the wary

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I own the characters within the Harry Potter series. J. K. Rowling owns the Harry Potter series and all original characters introduced within the series. I make no money from this story. All noncanonical characters are fictional fabrications. They belong to me. Any resemblances to real persons or groups of people are coincidence and should be summarily disregarded, and the doppelganger perpetrators should be shot for impersonating my creations. Have a nice day.

Golden Hearts: Chapter 5: Rarity and Old Grudges

Arumus made good time as he worked his way down Diagon Alley. He came to Flourish and Blotts to discover a sign that read, "Gilderoy Lockhart will be signing copies of his autobiography, Magical Me, today 12:30 pm to 2:30 pm." Arumus sighed and pushed his way through the crowd gathered outside, which consisted mainly of middle-aged witches.

If the crowds weren't there, Arumus thought he might have entered his idea of a celestial realm. Books of all shapes and sizes lined the walls and sat, a bit untidily, in ceiling-high bookshelves pushed end to end in rows. He inhaled the parchment, inks, and leather happily. Books made sense. They didn't accuse him of being evil because his parents were criminals, and they certainly didn't inform him of how difficult it would be to clear the family name, as if he was truly interested in doing so.

All the employees seemed busy with the book signing, so Arumus ducked behind the first bookshelf and began to search for his textbooks. Though Uncle Lucius had copies of most of his textbooks, Aunt Narcissa had insisted that Arumus purchase new books. Of course, whichever teacher had assigned the Lockhart books had failed to use a familiar text, but he supposed the teacher must be a fan. He peered around the edge of the nearest bookcase toward the signing as he heard a commotion.

Gilderoy Lockhart stood holding tight to the skinny boy with messy hair and glasses Arumus had noticed in Gringotts. Lockhart preened self-importantly for the cameras and reporters. Arumus moved to slide back into the shadowy recesses of the bookstore, but he caught some of the man's words and paused.

"Ladies and Gentleman, what an extraordinary moment this is, the perfect moment for me to make an announcement I've been sitting on for some time. When Harry, here..." and Lockhart's blustering voice faded into insignificance as Arumus stared at Harry Potter. He didn't look like much, really, but there was something so casually noble in his stance that Arumus found it infuriating, though the state of Potter's hair marred the image somewhat.

Lockhart continued, and Arumus grew increasingly worried as he listened to the man’s words. "He and his schoolmates will in fact be getting the real Magical Me. Yes, ladies and gentleman, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The crowd approved. Arumus most certainly did not. The man was a buffoon and a liar, from the tripe Arumus had skimmed in Wandering with Werewolves during the past ten minutes. Arumus thought he would be lucky to learn anything more from Lockhart than he already knew. He watched as Potter extracted himself from Lockhart and shook his head. Uncle Lucius was certainly right about one thing: Lockhart's appointment to the position would be considered madness if anyone else had applied.

Arumus decided that he would have to learn any Defense Against the Dark Arts outside class and moved back behind the tall bookshelves. Soon, he overheard a familiar, mocking drawl he knew all too well, though he couldn't see his cousin past the bookshelf before him.

Arumus didn't catch Draco's first words, but the last seemed to drip with loathing. "...Weasley. I suppose your parents will go hungry for a whole month to pay for all of those."

Arumus looked for an opening in the shelves, but couldn't find one in the wall of books facing him. He then heard his uncle's voice, cold and harsh as he sneered in derision. "Well, well, well, Arthur Weasley."

"Lucius." Came the chill, curt reply.

Beneath the disdain in his uncle's voice, Arumus thought he caught a tone of something else, but the tone and pitch mingled with the other noises in the book shop, distorting Lucius' voice somewhat.

"Busy time at the Ministry, I hear. All those raids... I hope they are paying you overtime." Lucius paused. "Obviously not. Dear me. What's the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don't even pay you well for it?"

Arthur Weasley's voice darkened, becoming almost as cold as Lucius' voice. "We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy."

"Clearly." Lucius replied. "The company you keep, Weasley... And I thought your family could sink no lower." The last words seemed to cause pandemonium, and Arumus lept away from the bookshelf as it toppled over. He darted around falling books, nearly running headlong into Uncle Lucius, who seemed to be grappling with the threadbare, red-haired wizard Arumus had overheard at Gringotts.

A man who seemed too large to fit in the already crowded and reeling bookstore pulled Mr. Weasley from his uncle, and Arumus caught a flicker of movement as his uncle slid a dark, slim book from his sleeve. The book disappeared a moment later, and Arumus could not tell what Lucius had done with it. Both Mr. Weasley and his uncle looked slightly battered.

Still holding the tattered book, Lucius' gray eyes sparkled maliciously. "Here, girl," He said to the seemingly youngest Weasley. "Take your book. It's the best your father can give you." He motioned for Draco to follow, and they moved haughtily from the book shop.

Arumus withdrew from the scene, darting among the crowd and thinking. His Uncle had instigated the entire scene to cause a diversion, but he couldn't understand why.

Arumus finished purchasing his supplies, all save his wand. He entered the small, run-down shop displaying a battered sign reading, "Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 BC," and a distant bell sounded his arrival. The shop window, dusty with a lone cobweb in one corner, displayed a wand perched on an equally dusty cushion.

The interior of Ollivander's held tiny boxes in stacks that reached the ceiling and a patched, unreliable looking chair. Arumus leaned against the nearest wall, setting his packages down and waiting. The very air seemed suffused with an ancient, arcane knowledge passed from wandmaker to apprentice since time immemorial.

"Good afternoon."

Arumus glanced at the man, meeting his light large eyes with his own.

"Ah, yes, I guessed I might see you soon, Arumus Lestrange." The man, assumably Ollivander, spoke with a quiet kind of certainty, and excitement seemed to shine in his eyes. "You look so like your father did at your age, though he looked nothing like you before he disappeared..."

Arumus frowned. "What do you mean, disappeared? My father is in Azkaban."

Mr. Ollivander seemed momentarily confused, but he recovered quickly. "Ah, yes, of course he is. Azkaban..." He moved on, changing the subject. "Now, your mother uses a wand of unyielding walnut, twelve and three quarter inches long, with a dragon heartstring core. The wand that chose your father was yew, thirteen and a half inches, with a pheonix feather core. Both very powerful wands. Now, which arm is your wand arm?"

Arumus held out his right hand.

Ollivander began taking measurements, speaking in his soft voice. "I am sure I do not have to tell you that each wand made at Ollivander's is unique?" He moved to the left wall and began sorting through wands as his tape measures completed its task.

"No, sir. I have read Wandlore of Britain, which discusses several wandmakers in detail. That is the reason I came to you, sir. You are, after all, considered one of the best in Europe." Arumus felt as if Mr. Ollivander knew far too much about him for comfort.

Ollivander moved to stand beside Arumus again, several boxes in his hands. "Of course, you have done your research. I haven't seen a wizard with your self-taught potential in years. Perhaps not since Albus Dumbledore himself came to me for his first wand, and that has been a very long time." He paused, seemingly lost in thought for a moment, but then his eyes focused sharply once more upon Arumus. "Ah, yes. Now you have used others' wands before, have you not?"

"Ah..." Arumus shook his head ruefully, wondering how Mr. Ollivander knew such things. "Yes, sir."

Ollivander's eyes sparkled. "Yes, I thought so. Now, you may not know this: locating the perfect match for a wizard child who has spent considerable time using another wizard or witch's wand can prove difficult. I need you to do more than just wave the wand, as most do. You must perform a very specific spell. Have you heard of Imprimus Cantori?"

"No, sir, I have not." Arumus leaned close and listened intently as Mr. Ollivander explained.

"This spell is used rarely, only being necessary in certain cases when a particularly... persuasive witch or wizard is looking for a wand." He paused thoughtfully once more and continued as if speaking to himself. "Most children would not have been able to use their parents or guardians' wands without many years of practice with their own, and sometimes even then, most would have difficulties. However, every so often a child develops the ability to use his or her own innate magic to convince nearly any wand to follow orders. Most wandmakers need this talent..."

His pale eyes focused again, and he studied Arumus. "You would make an excellent wandmaker. You have the necessary natural affinity."

"Thank you, sir."

Ollivander waved his hand dismissively. "Now, to perform the spell, you need only to speak the incantation properly, IM-primus CAN-to-RI. Then you need to relax your arm to allow the wand to guide you the best match." Ollivander handed him a light-colored, short wand. "This wand is ash with unicorn hair."

Arumus held the wand aloft as he had done so often after stealing Aunt Narcissa or Uncle Lucius' wands, and later Draco's, to practice spells in secret. "Imprimus Cantori." He spoke the spell with command, stressing the correct syllables. He relaxed his arm muscles and discovered that the wand now held the weight easily. The wand guided his hand in a wide, slow circle, spinning him around once. Then the it pointed decisively at the third box in the stack Mr. Ollivander balanced in his hand.

Ollivander seemed, if possible, even more pleased. "Ah yes, Master Lestrange, I thought this wand might choose you." The old man smiled. "I have been waiting to sell it for nearly twenty years." He placed the other boxes aside and opened the box to reveal a beautiful wand of dark, polished wood. "Your new wand is rosewood, thirteen inches, and it contains the hair of a sphinx as the core. A very powerful combination, and extremely rare."

Arumus handed Mr. Ollivander the wand of ash and took his wand in his right hand. A sudden surge of power and warmth accompanied the thrill of emotion that sped through him, and Arumus knew that he has found the perfect wand. Ollivander smiled knowingly.

"I think we can expect astonishing things to follow in your wake, Master Lestrange." He spoke softly, but the wandmaker's voice carried a tinge of something very like pleasure.

Arumus did not want to give the wand back. Instead, he carefully stowed it away into the front inside pocket in his jacket. "How much do I owe you, sir?"

"Twenty galleons. I normally charge ten, you see, but this wand was particularly difficult to manufacture. I spent three days answering riddles before the sphinx agreed to allow me a cutting of hair..." Mr. Ollivander explained a few of the more difficult riddles as he wrote out Arumus' receipt.

Arumus paid the galleons, gathered the receipt and box, both of which he carefully stowed among his other purchases, and moved to leave the shop. As he reached the door, Mr. Ollivander spoke to him once more.

"Master Lestrange, if you find yourself becoming interested in wandlore, I would, of course, be happy to take you on as my apprentice after you finish school at Hogwarts." His eyes sparkled once more. "Such apprentice material as yourself does not often darken my doorstep, so should you be unsure about which career choice to make, simply remember my offer."

Arumus stood by the door, his blue eyes meeting Ollivander's pale gaze in surprise. "Why, thank you, sir. I will remember. I would appreciate it if you could give me the names of a few books to read about the subject so that I may accurately gauge my interest."

"I will most certainly do so." Ollivander found a spare piece of parchment and scribbled his address and a few book titles on it, and then he handed the parchment to Arumus. "If you have any questions, feel free to write. I can answer most questions, and if not, then I might have a book somewhere that will. And please let me know how the wand performs."

"I will, Mr. Ollivander. Thank you." Arumus waved at the intriguing old man as he left the shop. He checked his watch. He had five minutes left until he needed to be back at the entrance to Diagon Alley to meet Lucius
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Golden Hearts