The Viridian Wand Chronicles

*~CHAPTER 2 - “Wolf”~* 

 

“So, we’ve cross-referenced, analyzed, studied latent trends in magical ability…” Fred said. His monologue was interrupted by a yawn from George. 

 

“And what do we have?” asked Harry. 

 

“Realm Disturbance level two. Contact was made between a physical and a metaphysical realm, but nothing was transmitted. We also have a wizard with power levels never before seen by the International Magical Regulation force, who is unregistered. The IMR’s data goes back nearly seven hundred years. However, there are a few tales of witches with this power, going back several thousand years. The last known witch, never IMR registered I might add, was Morgan Le Fay…” 

 

“Morgan Le Fay!” Harry exclaimed.  

 

“What?” 

 

“Do you know who Morgan Le Fay was?”  

 

“Vaguely. I don’t recall Professor Binns mentioning her.” 

 

“He didn’t. Dumbledore didn’t like him getting the students stirred up in a frenzy.” 

 

“Why would Professor Binns ever do that?” 

 

“If you’d heard the story you’d know. You’ve heard of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, right? It’s sort of a Muggle legend. Morgan Le Fay was his younger sister, a very powerful witch, much like her mother Ygraine. After her father’s death, and Arthur’s rise to fame, she turned her efforts to the Dark Arts. She was 13 at the time, and under the tutelage of her half-sister, Morgause, a fearful witch in her own right. As the legends say, she did once steal Arthur’s sword, Excalibur, but in the wizarding world she is know for things quite different.” 

 

“Which is?” 

 

“Her wand, the Viridian Wand, allowed whoever used it to have complete command over their power. It’s a certified Magical Artifact, actually. Oh, and one of her descendants was a founder of Hogwarts. Salazar Slytherin himself.” 

 

“You’re joking! We have a powerful witch on the loose, associating with the Dark Arts?” 

 

“Not necessarily. Other witches with similar powers have turned out all right.” Some better than all right, Harry thought, but did not say. 

 

“I’m sure.” 

 

“All that’s left to do is talk to the medium. Ginny.” Percy said, interrupting them. 

 

“Yes,” said George in agreement. The three Weasley men turned to face their brother-in-law. 

 

“Okay. But I’m going alone. She knows I’m coming? You’ve owled her?” Harry asked. 

 

“Of course.” 

 

“Good. It’s quarter to three now. If I’m not back by six, send the Magical Reversals squad in to bring me out.” 

 

“Very funny.” 

 

The Weasley brothers watched Harry’s form recede from their door. When they could no longer see him walking down the hallway, Fred and George turned to face each other. 

 

“Ten Galleons says he stumbles out

of there in five minutes with a broken bone or two and crockery shards in his hair,” George said with a grin. 

 

“Ten Galleon says she skips the rolling pin and crockery, and hits him with a Furnuculus Charm right off the bat,” his twin replied with glee. 

 

“Now, now, you’re being positively juvenile,” said Percy to his brothers in a stern tone. He paused. “Twenty Galleons says he leaves at five to six with rumpled clothes and lipstick on his ear.” 

 

“Five to six? Oh, Percy, I doubt she’s as forgiving as you are,” Fred said. George was quaking with laughter. 

 

“Well, ten past, then,” Percy conceded. 

 

"You're on!" George yelped, before submitting to a fit of hysterical laughter. 

* * * * *

Harry paused on the sidewalk before the small, cozy house. Despite the fact that he still owned part of it, he had never been inside, except for once. When the realtor had shown them around. 

 

It had been in genteel disrepair then, but showed no sign of neglect now. The bungalow was painted pure white and trimmed delicately with blue, the kind of blue the skies in his dreams were. A faded blue. Flowers grew riotously in the garden - for that was what the front lawn was, a garden. A picket fence framed the picture. It looked ridiculously beautiful, a country cottage in the middle of London. 

 

A thought struck him as he stood there at the gate. What if it had all been a dream? Hermione, Ron, their baby, Ginny, all inside, waiting for him...Harry shook his head, as if to shake off the thought, and walked up the path. He knocked on the door. 

 

Ginny opened the door. Just the fact that she was there, right in front of him, just so marvelously Ginny, was enough to distract him from what she was saying. He shook his head again. 

 

"...late. It's five past three," she said. 

 

"I'm sorry." It was all Harry could say. It wasn't enough. 

 

"Come in." Her voice hadn't a hint of friendliness. It was cool, business-like. He stepped in, and Ginny shut the door. 

 

They stood there in the hallway for a moment, uncertain of what to do. All he had the power to do was look at her, take in the sight of her in her pale gold robes and long red hair. She hadn't changed so much in five years. She still smelled of the expensive Givenchy perfume she had loved as a teenager. But now, they were strangers to each other. 

 

Suddenly, Ginny erupted into a fountain of tears. He caught her as she started to collapse, gently lifted her up, and set her on the couch in the living room. Having done that, he proffered a box of tissues, which she took. 

 

Harry sat quietly across from her in a comfortable, if slightly battered, armchair. However, he was feeling distinctly uncomfortable, and out of place. 

 

When she had calmed down a bit, the first words Ginny choked out were surprisingly accompanied with a smile. 

 

"My first - instinct - was to - hurt - you - with a Furnuculus - charm," Ginny said, sniffling, the corners of her mouth turning up a bit. Harry laughed. "Well, I hadn't any crockery handy!" she added indignantly. "Be glad I didn't have my wand!" 

 

"You take after your brothers." Harry commented. 

 

"Oh?" 

 

"I left an Eavesdrop token on the floor of the suite we were in. George has ten Galleons on you going after me with the good china and a rolling pin, and Fred an equal amount on you hitting me with a Furnuculus charm." He smiled. Ginny grinned back. 

 

"What about Percy?"

 

"Er...never mind about Percy." 

 

An awkward silence resumed. 

 

"Do you hate me?" Harry asked after a bit. 

 

"No!" Ginny said sharply. She tugged at the hem of her robe absently. "Never." 

 

"You should."

 

"Because you went to pieces?" 

 

"Because I left you when I did." 

 

"I knew you were alive. Lupin told me. He retired last year, you know." 

 

"I heard about it." 

 

"Yes, I suppose you would have. Since he was the only one you were

in contact with." 

 

"Ginny..." It was the first time he'd said her name during that entire meeting. She looked up from her hem. "Would you mind picking up that glass over there on the table?" She walked over and did so, though clearly confused. "Now, throw it at the wall." 

 

The crash of Waterford crystal against the wall could be heard throughout the house. Ginny picked up her wand, which had been lying next to the glass. 

 

"Reparo. And yes, Harry, I do feel a bit better. Perhaps a Sevres plate would have been more emphatic, though." 

 

"Lupin did take you through the mind-reading classes, after all. They're not standard fare for mediums, though since you're a Realm Watcher - " 

 

"Quite inevitable," Ginny said absently, completing the sentence for him. "On a similar note, I intend to have quite a talk with our Minister of Magic." 

 

"I see." 

 

"Yes, I believe you do." Ginny sat back down on the couch. 

 

"He's going to lose that bet." 

 

"Indeed. You're going out that door no earlier than seven-fifteen. There's an X-Files marathon on." 

 

Harry shook his head for a third time, but now it was in general disbelief. "I still don't understand why you're so enthralled by Muggle TV." 

 

"It's the novelty, I suppose - but it's half past three now. You've got precious little time to hear my strange story - and strange it is." 

* * * * *

"It's innocent," Lowell said, "truly it is. It's why I took her. I knew she was valuable. You don't know what it meant to me. I found out about her power, and took her. That's when I knew I could get him to give me the power." 

 

"The power?" Abram said skeptically. 

 

"I'm...I'm a pureblood. But I have no magic. I'm as weak as a Muggle. I thought...if I got her... she's so powerful... he'd cure me. Voldemort. He would be so grateful! 

 

"But before I could give her to him, Harry Potter, damn him, killed my Lord. So I waited until she was powerful enough to come to your attention. You are the only pureblood to know about her; my family thought she was my bastard daughter, and rarely spoke to anyone of her, or me. I was closeted away for years by them for my sins." 

 

 

"Who are you then, Lowell James? I doubt that's your last name." 

 

"My name is Lowell Goyle." 

 

"Goyle and a Squib! That must be something. You're the first wife's daughter, of course. You don’t look like your half-brother," Abram observed, and indeed Lowell did not. Her brother was chunky, with a brain the size of a pea; Lowell was willowy and slim, young looking even in her mid-thirties. And smart. 

 

The child had taken all this in with her usual quietness. This she had known before Lowell had taken her from her room up in the tower of the Goyle mansion; she had known it for so long that it defined her existence. Lowell lacked power, and the child had it. But she was startled at the next remark by Abram. 

 

"So you are the Wand's guardian. Why on earth didn't you tell me this before?" 

 

"The Viridian Wand is not of importance. You would have found out soon enough - I am going to give it to her tonight to help her to control her power." 

 

"You are going to give a five-year-old a five thousand year-old emerald to use as a wand? One that is a certified Magical Artifact? Are you insane?" 

 

"She works well with the wand. She's used it before, when I would repeat a spell and hold the wand. But she doesn't appear to have much long-term memory. I've always thought her a simpleton. Despite who she is." 

 

"She's not." 

 

"As you say. She is a Maiden. Confused? I will explain. 

 

"A wise woman. A mage. There are many names for her kind. The last known one was Morgan Le Fay, but many have existed since. They never show up on IMR tests, but they exist. The basic thing with a wizard is this - he or she is judged by his/her knowledge and experience on IMR tests. But wizards have a finite amount of power. Now, she

could draw power all day and not stop until she over-exerts herself. Rarely, once ever thousand years or so, a male Maiden will come along. Harry Potter is this millennium’s." 

 

Abram nodded, comprehending. The child noted the name, and resolved to talk with this Mr. Potter sometime in the future. He was one of her kind.