Redemption

Chapter Thirty-Nine:

Quatre licked his lips once, and took a deep breath. Then, he walked in through the doorway to Olivanders, the others waiting for him outside. Being inside the shop caused him to shiver. The place just... felt old.

"And you would be Mr. Raberba Winner," stated an elderly man polishing his over sized glasses as he sauntered out from a back room. "Ah, yes. I see some of Aethylla in you. A fine wand of ancient willow, seven inches, with hair of a unicorn. Perfect for general Charms and spellwork, but with a flair for Divination."

Unable to say anything, Quatre just stared at the man. He felt a shimmer of the pure magic contained in this room. "Where are my manners? Hello," he said finally, holding out his hand.

Olivander did not shake it, but rather began to take measurements from wrist to shoulder.

"Oh, um..." Quatre turned, allowing the spelled tape to measure the length and width of his back, although he couldn't see how it was in any way relevant.

Once the measurements were done, he was beckoned closer to the counter, and Mr. Olivander plucked a wand from a box, handing it to him. "Swish it," the man ordered.

Doing so, Quatre felt a jolt of electricity buzz up his arm and then down again, back into the wand.

"Oh, dear, certainly not. Hmm, I daresay it was close, though..."

Rifling through a shelf, Mr. Olivander pulled out a black box trimmed in gold.

"I wonder, I wonder..." he handed the wand over. "Try this one."

Swishing the wand, warmth spread through Quatre, and he just knew that this was the wand for him.

"How interesting," said the salesman slowly, peering closely at Quatre. "Young man, this wand is almost identical to that of your grandmothers. Six inches, ancient willow; however, it harbors a phoenix feather of deepest blood red. That wand has great potential for both Divination, and the Dark Arts, my boy."

An icy trickle ran down Quatre's back. He almost felt like apologizing, as though he were being accused of something. "Th-thankyou," he stammered, hastening to pay and make his way out of the shop.

"Hold on," the elderly man called. "Keep in mind that it should also be quite useful for Defensive Arts."

"What was that all about?" Duo asked, peering through the window at Olivander, who was still staring intently at Quatre. "He's downright creepy," Duo murmured. "Reminds me of G..."

"Who's G?" asked Ginny, waving at Mr. Olivander with a bright smile.

"Crazy old coot," Duo replied, earning a grin from Trowa.

"Come on, onto Madam Malkin's," prompted Remus, leading the youths further down the street. "We've got to keep moving, the Headmaster wants us back well before dark, you know."

The robes fitting didn't take very long, and soon Quatre was wearing the proper Hogwarts uniform, fitting snugly for his comfort. "I think it'll take me a while to get used to these," he said, shaking his arms experimentally.

But before they could leave, Wufei approached the woman. "I know I'm a Muggle, but I was wondering if maybe..."

"Oh, of course, dear. No need to be shy, actually, I have a rather lovely set of forest green robes that would suit you nicely." Madam Malkin smiled and patted him on the back. Then, she went rifling through a row of clothes. When she emerged again, the deep green casual and formal robes hung over her arm.

"Thank you," Wufei said, bowing slightly to her. He seemed surprised that she would serve him so easily.

"Don't be silly. There's no rule saying that Muggles can't dress like a wizard. Why, we wear your clothes all the time. In fact," a wistful expression passed over her features. "I'm rather fond of them."

"Come on 'Fei," Harry urged once the robes were purchased and placed in a carry bag. "We're off to Flourish and Blott's next. I'm sure you'll find some interesting books there."

The day passed rather enjoyably and Quatre had soon almost everything he needed, including the scrying bowl required of sixth year divination students. They'd spent some time lingering around the new Nimbus model, but Quatre wasn't even sure if he could fly, so he opted not to by a broom for the time being. Lastly, they headed to Eyelops Owl Emporium.

"I think an owl would be most useful," Quatre said to Trowa as they walked inside. The shop was quiet, supposedly because it was day time and those owls that weren't sleeping were looking somewhat drowsy. "I could send messages to you and Duo in Hogsmeade. It would save a lot of traveling back and forth."

"See any you particularly like?" Harry asked.

"What about that one over there?" Duo pointed towards an owl that seemed the very personification of midnight.

Trowa rolled his eyes. "You only like it because it's black," he said dryly.

"That's not true. I happen to think it's rather unique," Duo replied sullenly.

Hermione, however, shook her head. "It would be discreet at night, but during the day it would stand out like a sore thumb. You don't want something that would draw so much attention..."

"That's a good point," Quatre agreed, looking around at some of the lighter shades. One of them caught his eye. "What breed is that one?"

"It's a Rufous Fishing Owl," Wufei told him. [3]

"How do you know that?" asked Trowa, looking at him side on.

"I read a book on owls while I was staying with the Weasley's." Wufei followed Quatre over to the owl. "It's a fairly common species, so she wouldn't stand out too much."

Nodding, Quatre held out his arm. The owl eyed him for a moment, and then stepped off of its perch.

"Hello there," Quatre crooned, patting its feathers softly. "I'm Quatre."

As they walked back down the street towards the Leaky Cauldron, Quatre peered into his owl's eyes - he declined to keep her in a cage until they got back to the castle. "Now, what should I call you?" He smiled a little. "You are beautiful, aren't you? What do you think of the name Catherine?"

Letting out a soft hoot, Catherine approved of her new name and nestled herself onto Quatre's shoulder for the floo ride back to Hogwarts Castle.

Having had a long, but thoroughly enjoyable day, everyone emerged into the Headmaster's office and then went back to their own parts of the castle to relax for a quiet evening.

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Heero could be tolerant when he was required to be, but he was, at the moment, thoroughly disgruntled. He'd expected far more from the strict Potions Master who was currently drunk off his ass.

Somehow, they'd manage to accomplish at least a part of their mission, the wizard succeeding in voicing his planned doubts of Kushrenada, though with a little less decorum. Grudgingly, Heero had to admit that the alcohol added a little authenticity to the performance.

Although he didn't know a great deal about magic, Heero was fairly certain that Snape would not be able to Apparate back to the castle in one piece. So, he dragged the man up to his room.

"You can let go now, you half pint moron," Snape sneered once the door was closed.

Heero narrowed his eyes. "You can barely walk."

"Don't be a fool, I'm fine." To prove the point, Snape straightened up and brushed down his slightly wrinkled robes.

"You were faking," Heero observed dryly.

"Of course I was, and to tell the truth, I expected you to pick up on that." The disapproving sneer didn't faze Heero much.

"You were... convincing," he admit grudgingly.

"Good to hear."

Expecting the professor to leave, Heero turned his back and pulled his robe off, reaching for the small bag of belongings in which his regular tank top was hiding. Snape, in his drunken impression, had splashed him with some awful smelling spirit.

However, the man hadn't yet left. "What are you doing?" he asked.

Looking over his shoulder, Heero shot the man a glare. "I'm changing," he said curtly, stating the obvious. "Why are you still here?"

Snape hesitated a moment, but turned his gaze away in an apparent appraisal of the room. "I thought it would be a good chance for us to discuss the next stage."

"Fine." Heero pulled the green shirt over his head, and sat down on the bed, which was one of few objects in the room. Snape pulled over the one and only chair, sitting in it stiffly, and then thinking better of it, he stood and transfigured the little wooden thing into something more comfortable.

Both waited for the other to begin. Neither did. Sighing, Heero crossed his legs beneath him and leant back against the wall.

"You're worried," he said quietly.

"If you want to put your life at risk, that isn't my problem," Snape answered back, staring out the window.

"About your friend I mean," Heero continued, narrowing his eyes.

"And that isn't your problem," the Potions Master replied in acid tones.

"It is if your feelings put either of us in danger." Glaring, Heero waited for the man to look at him before he went on. "My safety depends on your competency."

To his surprise, there was no scathing comment in return, no degrading sneer.

"My feelings won't get in the way," Snape answered softly. "I've been doing this for the majority of my life, or so it seems..." he trailed off, sullenly staring at the bed post.

"I know what you mean," Heero whispered before he could stop himself.

He didn't need to prove himself to anyone, but he did not want to show weakness in front of this man. They would, essentially, be working together, and Snape already looked down on him. Heero had to make the man see him as an equal, but if he let stupid comments slip, that would never happen.

However, when Snape's eyes lifted once more, his gaze was anything but condescending, and somewhat unfocused. "I suppose you do," he muttered. Then, he shook his head slightly.

Heero smirked. It seemed that the alcohol had at least had some effect. He smiled, very slightly. "Go get some sleep; we can continue our discussion on Monday."

Snape seemed about to argue, but he nodded and gave in. "Very well. You will be transported back to my office by portkey. At midnight on Monday, I will take you before the Dark Lord." With a brief inclination of his head, Snape stood and Apparated out.

"Dark Lord at midnight," Heero drawled. "How dramatic. Duo would have a field day."

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Duo growled and grumbled all the way back to his room. Not one person had been willing to get rid of the bloody sparrow that had made a home for itself on his head. Not even the Headmaster. It certainly didn't help that he could hear Trowa snickering softly behind his back.

"Dumb bird," he mumbled as he stopped in front of the painting to their room. "Duo is the greatest."

"Has the greatest ego, you mean," muttered the inhabitant sarcastically. That just made Trowa laugh harder.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Duo grumbled. "It wouldn't be so funny if it was your head being turned into a nest. Not that anything could penetrate those bangs of yours..."

Preparing to flop onto his bed, Duo pulled out his hair tie and began to undo his braid, but Trowa caught him around the waist.

"It likes you," Trowa whispered into his ear, and then nibbled on the lobe a little. "I like you."

"Then you've got something in common. I hope you become good friends." Duo tried half heartedly to struggle out of Trowa's embrace.

Hands drifting a little lower, Trowa's lips brushed over Duo's cheek. "I don't need anyone but you," he breathed.

As the boys fell onto the mattress, Duo barely noticed the bird take off from his head and land on one of the little silver objects he'd been messing with. He was far too preoccupied with Trowa's hands and lips roaming his body.

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[3] http://www.owlpages.com/species/scotopelia-ussheri/rufous_fishing_owl_01.html

*snickers* I actually did research! Go me!