In the drawing room, Alex and Snape sat opposite each other. For a moment, Alex found himself silently observing the man across from him with a mix of respect and melancholy.
Snape had been one of those characters he hadn't liked much in the early films of his past life. Cold. Bitter. Cruel. But the deeper he'd gone into the story, the more he came to understand the man behind the sneer. A tragic figure burdened by guilt, regret, and a love that never died.
A man who, in a twisted way, had paid for his sins by offering up the rest of his life in penance. And when death finally came, perhaps it was less punishment and more mercy.
Snape, oblivious to the sentiment in Alex's eyes, began speaking in his usual grave tone.
"Mr. Gunter, your surname is well-known in the wizarding world. Your ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, was one of the four founders of Hogwarts. The Slytherin House, which I currently head, bears his name."
He paused, letting that sink in.
"Although your family has declined in recent generations, the blood of pure magic still runs in your veins. I trust you will carry that legacy with dignity — and perhaps even restore it to its former glory."
Alex's heart skipped. He hadn't paid much attention to the Gunter name before. But now that Snape mentioned it, he remembered — Voldemort's mother had come from the Gunter family. And more than that, the Resurrection Stone, one of the Deathly Hallows, had been a Gunter heirloom passed down through the bloodline.
It was probably still lying somewhere in the ruins of the old Gunter shack.
Snape continued for a while longer, patiently explaining the basics of the magical world, its structure, politics, and customs. Eventually, he fell quiet.
"That's all the essential information. The rest, you will learn in due time at Hogwarts. Do you have any questions, Mr. Gunter?"
"No, Professor. If anything, I'm more excited than ever. I can't wait to see Diagon Alley," Alex replied truthfully, his curiosity brimming.
"Very well. Please stand beside me and take hold of my wrist."
Snape didn't waste time. Once Alex had a firm grip, the man performed Apparition.
There was the sound of rushing water — like being flushed down a giant drain — and the world twisted.
...
Diagon Alley.
Alex's eyes sparkled. The cobbled street stretched out before him, alive with activity. Witches and wizards bustled past in robes of every color, the air thick with magic and chatter.
"We'll head to Gringotts first," Snape said. "While the Gunter family has declined, it was once among the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Your vault should still hold enough to cover your expenses."
They made their way into the towering white building at the end of the street.
Inside the grand hall of Gringotts, Snape led Alex to an empty counter and addressed the goblin behind it.
"We need access to the Gunter family vault. This is the heir."
The goblin squinted at Alex, then motioned for him to drop a bead of blood into a magical vessel. After a few moments of murmuring and swirling light, the creature nodded and led them down below.
Vault 710 was their destination — located deep in the lower levels of Gringotts. Alex got his first taste of the wild, rattling ride through the underground tunnels on the goblin cart. No dragons this time. Probably asleep.
The vault door opened with a deep groan.
It was vast — but mostly empty.
The fortune of the Gunter line had withered with its name. Only a modest pile of Galleons remained, stacked no higher than two meters.
"Fifty to a hundred Galleons should be enough to cover your first year," Snape said flatly.
Alex nodded. He had far more Galleons tucked away in his system inventory, but he couldn't exactly explain that. So he filled a pouch with coins from the vault, slung it over his shoulder, and followed Snape out.
Their next stop was a small, shabby shop with peeling gold letters on the sign:
Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
A wizard's wand was an extension of the soul. Naturally, this was the first and most important purchase.
The interior of the shop was much larger than it looked from outside — classic Undetectable Extension Charm. Towering shelves loomed, stuffed with narrow boxes. The air smelled faintly of polished wood and old dust.
"Good morning, Professor Snape," came a gentle voice. "It's been some time. Let me see... Birchwood, dragon heartstring, thirteen and a half inches, wasn't it?"
An old man with bright, inquisitive eyes appeared beside them — Mr. Ollivander himself.
"You remember correctly," Snape said curtly. "This is Mr. Gunter. I've brought him to find his wand."
"I must correct you, Professor," Ollivander said, eyes twinkling. "It is not the wizard who chooses the wand — the wand chooses the wizard."
He turned his gaze on Alex, then raised a brow. "Your dominant hand, young man?"
"Right," Alex replied.
With a flick of his wand, a tape measure zoomed through the air, circling Alex's limbs, taking his measurements all on its own.
Once finished, Ollivander guided him toward the shelves. But before he could even select a box, the entire shelf trembled.
FWOOOM!
About a tenth of the wand boxes sprang open all at once. Dozens of wands surged toward Alex, hovering around him in a slow orbit.
"Oh, sweet Merlin..." Ollivander gasped.
"These... all of these wands are made with phoenix feather cores," he murmured, eyes wide. "The resonance... it's beyond anything I've ever seen."
"When my grandfather sold the wand to Dumbledore, it didn't react like this."
Alex wasn't surprised. This had to be Furry's doing. The phoenix he had bonded with was practically overflowing with magic.
Which gave him an idea.
"If I may," Alex said carefully, "perhaps it's because of Furry."
He raised a hand — and with a burst of fire, Furry appeared, wings spread, golden feathers gleaming. She landed regally on his shoulder.
Snape and Ollivander both stood frozen.
A phoenix. A real phoenix.
Ollivander's voice was barely a whisper. "Your... your partner?"
Alex nodded. "She arrived two days after I received my Hogwarts letter. Since then, we've been together. I believe her presence is why phoenix feather wands respond to me so strongly."
He paused, then offered a suggestion. "Do you think it would be possible to custom-forge a wand using one of Furry's tail feathers?"
Ollivander's eyes gleamed with renewed purpose.
Dumbledore's phoenix — Fawkes — had grown moody over the years and hadn't shed feathers in quite some time. His supplies were running low. The chance to craft a wand from another phoenix's feather? It was the opportunity of a lifetime.
"Come with me," he said at once, ushering Alex toward the back workshop.
An old man. A young wizard. And a phoenix. Together, they began the delicate conversation of wandmaking.
Something told Alex this wand would be perfect.
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