Stillborn

Dragon Alley was as crowded as the last time Draco had strolled down the busy alley. At the same time, it was more crowded due to the sudden need for school supplies. It was rather fortunate that Lucius and Narcissa were with him for the necessary visit. Their cold masks were easily hiding their emotions, causing wary glances directed in their general location. The paths that they walked were seemingly open for them; seas of people parted as calmly walked down the alley.

It was partially amusing, but it mostly showed Draco that respect and fear were things that his family commanded. The latter of the two were not exactly what Draco wanted, but it would probably help enact his strategy to prevent an era of darkness. Although Draco’s plans were at most a rough sketch, he had a general idea of what he needed to do. Still, there were many components that he needed to research on, particularly on the boy-who-lived. While there were an infinite amount of gossip regarding the youth, nothing was certain.

Araxes managed to provide stories about the boy’s parents, which was a good start. Although most of his grandfather’s stories were hardly in a good light, there was a sense of realism within it. The ghost had also led him to an archive of newspapers kept beneath the Malloy library that contained photos of the deceased couple.

Draco did not bother asking help from his parents, particularly because he could not find a reason to tell them and risk the Dark Lord or one of his minions finding out. He doubted that anyone would probe a ten-year-old boy’s mind, though he could easily battle off Legilimency with his Occlumency thanks to his Godfather’s help in his early years.

Shaking his mind from the topic, he directed his attention to his mother and inquired if she could look over at Ollivander’s shop. It would take less time if the wandmaker already had an idea of him. After receiving an agreement, Lucius led Draco to Madam Malkin’s robe shop, calmly demanding that they start on Draco. The older Malfoy declared that he would be a nearby shop, looking for schoolbooks.

Draco readily accepted the treatment from the staff while Madam Malkin herself began to take his measurements. He absently noted a messy boy step up next to him, receiving similar treatment. As he turned to study the other youth, he was surprised to see a younger version of James Potter from the newspapers he had scoured through late at night.

“Hogwarts as well?” murmured Draco, deciding this was the best time to find out a bit of information about the boy.

The conversation following was strange to say the least. He found himself speaking with the regular snobbish Pureblood tone that he disliked of his parents’ friends. Harry’s replies were rare, somewhat awkward, and increasingly distant and sullen. Draco was outwardly unperturbed and introduced topics of the Wizarding World that made him realize how naïve the boy actually was of it.

Draco had expected a boy who had grown up with similar treatments as he did with more training to prepare for the battle against the Dark Lord. This scrawny boy was far from ready to face Voldemort. Harry probably had no idea what he would fight for and why. The blond boy realized more than ever that this Harry Potter would require an enemy that would slowly get him up to par.

First, before he could actually become an enemy of sorts, Harry would need a friend that would instantly side with the Light without hesitation. This friend in question had to be fearless so idle threats could not penetrate. Undoubtedly, they would have to be from Gryffindor. Though Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff were fine assets to the Light, Ravenclaw was too far close to Slytherin without the cunning and Hufflepuff was too easily scared.

Speaking of Houses, Harry would have to be in Gryffindor as well. Slytherin would only corrupt the boy. Ravenclaw would be useful, but Harry did not seem to suit it. In addition, Hufflepuff was probably the worst place to put the savior of the Wizarding World.

Tiling his head, Draco looked out towards the shop window where a large burly man, possibly a half-giant, stood. “I wonder who that oaf is,” murmured he, startling himself. More so, to his surprise, this Harry Potter knew who it was. From his impression, Harry knew little to nothing of the Wizarding World.

“He’s Hagrid,” said Harry in a sort of puppy-like way. He was almost adorable. “He’s the Gamekeeper at Hogwarts!”

Draco noted the tone and realized it was the perfect time to make him more intolerable. “I’ve heard of him from my father,” sighed Draco in the same snobbish tone. “He’s like a servant, isn’t he?” The reaction was instantaneous, but there was no comeback. They would eventually need to work on that. Knowing when to back down was fine, but blind courage was necessary in order to be strong against the strain of threats and torture. For now, that was all Draco could expect for someone so new.

One of the staff announced the finish of his fitting.

Draco tilted his head once more towards Harry’s direction, giving a rather malicious smirk. From his ability to read expressions, he could tell that Harry put off with the conversation. If Harry made the right kind of friends, particularly Gryffindor Muggle-loving ones, they could tell Harry about the better side of things. With that in mind, Draco stepped out of the little shop with plans swirling within his head.

Draco wasn’t exactly sure that he wanted to know what Narcissa told Ollivander to make the old wandmaker stare at him with such soul piercing eyes. Perhaps it came with the job description, but Draco had to restrain himself from recoiling. The inward reaction was surprising to say the least, but having someone judge him was something he minded. He chose to study the surprisingly small shop that contained hundreds of wands waiting for the right user instead.

A magical measuring tape began to snap around him, measuring random parts of his body. Although he wasn’t sure what some measurements were for, Draco tolerated it while Ollivander shot him equally random questions. After a while, Ollivander stopped and snatched the tape from the air.

Immediately, Ollivander began giving wands for him to hold and swish. Most of them didn’t seem to be acceptable for Ollivander’s tastes. Draco didn’t know what the old wandmaker was searching for, but he was slowly getting increasingly tired. He was rather surprised that another customer hadn’t entered, but he deemed the thought unnecessary. As a Malfoy, he could take as much time as he wanted.

After about the thirtieth wand, Ollivander headed behind the counter and picked up another wand. The old man uttered a quiet spell that neither Draco nor Narcissa caught. What was noticeable was that Ollivander’s eyes had taken a pearly white and bulged from their sockets when they turned to Draco. “Oh my,” was all he said before unraveling a short parchment and scribbling words on it.

“I’m afraid my services cannot help your son, Mrs. Malfoy.” Ollivander rolled up the note and handed it to the elegant woman, who stood stock-still. “I can refer you to someone who will be able to.”

Draco massaged his sore wrist, switching his slate-gray eyes between his mother and the wandmaker. “I don’t understand. Why can’t you give me a wand?”

“There is something about your magic that will not be compatible with a wand of mine or any wand in particular. It isn’t the first time I have seen this; however, the first was regrettable. That man was quite angry, but he soon got over it and decided to help anyone with similar problems.”

Narcissa continued to be silent, trying to comprehend what was happening desperately. She snapped out of it to receive the parchment and then ushered Draco out of the way. The woman bid a short good-bye to the wandmaker, noting that he was looking at Draco curiously. Was this also an effect of the ritual?

They met with Lucius shortly and used the Floo to return to Malfoy Manor. Narcissa immediately informed Lucius of the conversation after Draco left to attend to his new belongings, still in shock. She hadn’t even read the note. It was only she finished the tale that she unraveled the parchment to read. Lucius stood next to her, frowning at the parchment.
“It’s an address,” stated Lucius simply.

“Shall we take Draco to it? I don’t see any other choice… Ollivander…”

“We shall see. There are more wandmakers outside of England.”

Draco immediately told Abraxas of the tale. He was somewhat surprised, but not very. More so, he was disappointed at himself. Would he be able to go to Hogwarts without the use of a wand? Perhaps he couldn’t do magic! What of his recently made plans?

“Do not think it’s the end of the world, Draco,” said Abraxas calmly. “Perhaps, I shall tell you the tale of your birth. I believe you to be read to hear of it.”

“What does that have to do with my not getting a wand?” Draco placed his hand on the piano, clenching his fists slowly. He suddenly felt a sudden emotional rise in his chest. Unable to suppress it, Draco raised a hand to his face to touch the tears that leaked from his eyes. The boy choked back a sob.

“It is not the end of the world, Draco.” Realizing that Draco couldn’t hear the story while in such a state, Abraxas attempted to calm the boy down. It was the first time seeing Draco in such a state. Perhaps he was finally realizing that he was only a ten-year-old boy, not an adult. “He merely said that no wand would be compatible with you, not that you couldn’t do magic.”

Draco cried for a few minutes longer, slumped on the piano keys. The ring of notes that had occurred when he had pressed against it still echoed lightly in the room. “Sorry, grandfather.”

“Will you listen to the story now?”

“Yes, please tell me.”

“Your birth was complicated.” Abraxas recalled the ritual spell the two Malfoy’s had used. “You were actually stillborn, but your parents wouldn’t have it. They were quite desperate to have you alive as Narcissa was not fit to carry children.”

“I don’t understand. Why am I still alive then?”

“They used a ritual spell that was in the hidden Malfoy library passed down from our ancestors. I will introduce you to it one day, but only when you’re older.” Abraxas shook his head lightly and continued. “You were taken to another one of the Malfoy properties far up north with your parents and your Godfather. I believe one of the requirements of the ritual was a snowfall taking place.”

Pressing his lips together tightly, Draco closed his eyes and tried to recall his dreams. He could recall a scene with the silent snow and a woman, his mother, calling his name. “I see.”

“When you returned, I saw that you were alive and well. I do not know what Ollivander saw, but I believe it has something to do with this. I wouldn’t suggest that you tell your parents, however. They seem to be inclined to keep it a secret from you and everyone else.”

“That’s fine,” murmured Draco coolly, returning to a state of absolute calm reinforced with Occlumency. “I don’t believe I think it’s necessary to tell them either.”

The next day, early in the morning, Lucius and Narcissa set it upon themselves to have Draco visit several wandmakers, both good and bad. Each visit resulted in the same thing and none of them was quite satisfied. Evening came and they all finally agreed to go to the address.

They used the Floo, gracefully entering without a speck of ash. Their eyes roved over the rich furniture, judging and waiting for someone to greet them. Finally, a House Elf popped before them, eyes widening at the sight. “Who is you?!”

“Tell your master that he has guests.” They all had a long day and were no mood for waiting.

“I’m well aware of whom you all are, but what do you want of me? If it’s something about the Dark Lord, I’m not interested.” A tall dark man stepped into the room, casually gazing at them. His eyes fell upon Draco and stayed. “I see, now I know why. Did Ollivander send you here?”

“Yes,” said Lucius, annoyed. “He did not tell us in exact detail how you would be able to help, however.”

“How like him,” mused the man. “Oh, I have forgotten to introduce myself. The name is Julian Lupus Crux.”

“Do not lie! The entire Crux’s are entirely wiped out.” It had been years ago, when Lucius was only a small boy, that the news that several Pureblood families had died out due to an illness that had swept the Wizarding World. “Who are you?”
“I am what I have told you. If you don’t believe me, that is fine. I’m only interested in your child in any case. He reeks of a certain kind of Dark Magic, the same as I.” Julian smiled widely, showing perfect teeth. He was beautiful in a case, but a kind of darkness lurked about him.

“Speak of this no more…” Narcissa murmured, casting a glance at Draco. “What can you do?”

“No wand will be compatible with him, and I’m sure you’ve heard it all countless of times.” Julian tilted his head in Draco’s direction, giving a slight smirk. “I will teach him how to do Wandless Magic, which I’m sure you will approve. He is heading towards Hogwarts, correct?”

“Yes, but how will you teach him in such a short time? There’s only two weeks left before we must take him to Hogwarts.”

“I will teach him the basics now. Does that sound alright, Draco?”

At the mention of his name, Draco regarded the man with hooded eyes. He had felt a sort of kindred to the man, unlike with anyone else. Draco was inclined to agree with everything he said, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but recoil. “That’s fine,” he managed to sound semi-normal.

“I will speak with Dumbledore about private tutoring and go to Hogwarts some days to teach him.”

“What is your price, then?”

“No price is fine,” Julian drawled. “I will enjoy teaching someone else with such similar magic.”