little snip of a little man [archie]

Roderick had to make a day of it - this outing had been instead of sending Archie a present, after all. They got fish and chips from a little shop that did their ketchup with a bit of Felix Felicis potion in them, just enough to put a little extra spring in your step, not a full dose. They whipped passed Weasleys - Roderick blanched, remembering his interactions in December, and tugged Archie past.

“Right, here we are.” Roderick came to a stop in front of a certain storefront, glancing upwards and casting his brother a look from the corner of his eyes. “Ollivander’s.” 

Roderick hadn’t gotten his wand from Ollivander’s - he had saved his allowances and stolen allowances from some of the rich kids lower on the food chain, scrounged for enough to pick from a set of five second hand wands. His wand hadn’t bowed to him immediately, but the hawthorn piece of shit had figured out quick enough where the power was.

Archie didn’t have the drive yet to make a wand work for him, Roderick thought, but another year with that busted, piece of shite Macnair blackthorn wand made Roderick grimace. Charms would eat the kid alive. So every pay check from the Deli, the pay check from Honeydukes, all that went into the bag hidden under his mattress. It sat heavy in his satchel, the sum of this whole summer (minus a few drinks and postage, and lunch). He was still anxious it wouldn’t be enough, but there was only so much time left before Archie went back to school.

He gave Archie a moment, then swung the door open. “We don’t have all day, come on.” The little bell rang, and the harried old wandmaker emerged. “Hello, sir,” Roderick said, his best behaviour voice on. “We’re looking for a new wand for a young wizard.”


@Archie Macnair

“Can I get a new quill, too?” Archie asked. He’d spent the whole time in Flourish and Blotts gathering the nerve to ask, but he felt a little less guilty about it after lunch. “While we’re here, y’know—It’s just that I’ve lost all of them but one, and I can’t go into Hogsmeade yet if I lose that one.” Archie wasn’t sure what made quills so forgettable to him—they were great big feathers, after all, not like the things muggles used. Maybe if he took notes more often he’d think about them more.

He moved the heavy bag of second year textbooks from his aching right hand to the left. “Maybe I’ll invent a spell that finds things you’ve lost,” he mused. That would save them all a lot of money in no time. “Guess I’ll have to study more, though.”

They were moving too purposefully not to be on their way somewhere, but Archie wasn’t sure where. This was his birthday present, wasn’t it? It was almost a month late already, and his books might have been brand new but there was no way Rod had built up this much suspense just to get him Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two. He considered options, ruling them out as they passed. A friend for Toadsworthy? An owl? No, there went the Magical Menagerie. Some new Weasley’s Wizard Wheeze? No, Rod definitely didn’t want him going in there. Maybe that was an even bigger surprise for later?

No, they’d come to a stop at Ollivander’s. Archie looked up at Rod, as if the permission he’d just been given wasn’t good enough. “Really?”

The first years had discussed their experiences buying their wands once during a study period: how many wands it took, the best things they broke, their varying impressions of old Mr. Ollivander (amazing, mystical, creepy, smells weird). Archie had just held up his own wand. It was my great-granddad’s. He’d been proud of that then. A couple of the others had known enough about his family’s reputation to grimace, but most of them had just found it sort of pitiful.

Nobody would want to hear about it this year, but at least Archie wouldn’t be feeling pitiful about himself any more. He straightened up at Rod’s words and allowed the tape to measure him. That’s me, I’m the young wizard! “Archie Macnair, sir.”

Mr. Ollivander disappeared into the dusty shelves. Archie glanced to Rod again, desperately wanting to whisper something—but eavesdropping on the wandmaker was more important, of course.

A new quill? Roderick did some arithmetic quickly in his head. He started to shake his head, changed course mid-motion. "Hm, we'll loop back at the end of the day, yeah?" There was no reason to crush that small request - maybe there would be some Sickles left over. "I know I have some at home that are in good condition." He lowered his voice, a conspiratorial look on his face. "Nicked a couple from St Mungos too. They dye the feathers a seafoam green. Girls love it." Roderick gave his brother a little wink and grin, before turning his attention back to their path through the shopping district.

New quills. That couldn't be much more of a dent than the new books. The new books were a bit of a splurge, but he had gotten Mum to chip in for that, at least. Kelsey would probably get hand-me-downs herself, but fewer. Roderick needed it to be fewer.

The look on Archie's face when they came to a stop outside the famous shop transformed something inside Roderick - something ugly and resentful turned to joy. "Really," he repeated, before shuffling his little brother inside.

It could have been better. He could have worked more last summer, gotten Archie something new for his first year. Selfish of him to not. Selfish Roderick, thinking of nothing but his reputation and marks. Still, his heart swelled as Archie straightened up, a corner of his lip even twitching upward into a smile.

Ollivander disappeared, muttering and mumbling as he banged about the back room. Roderick caught Archie's eye and raised an eyebrow, expression softening. "Oh, give me that," Roderick said after a moment, taking Archie's bag from him. "You need your hands free for this bit." So I've been told.

The old man returned eventually, four boxes in hand. "To start," the old man said. Laid out, the labels are hard to make out - dogwood, 10-3/4, kraken, walnut, 8-3/4, unicorn, birch, 9-1/4, griffin, and spruce, 9, hippogriff. If Archie looks back at him, Roderick just gives a little shrug. "Well, try one. Go on."

Archie squinted at the labels, considering which sounded the most appealing. Surely that would be part of the wand choosing him, wouldn’t it be? The surprise nature of this had been brilliant, of course, but he did wish he’d been able to read up on different wand woods before being confronted with them. But maybe that was good. He wouldn’t have any biases. Hopefully he wouldn’t find a wand that worked and look it up later to discover that wood was attracted specifically to idiots.

All of them seemed kind of short. Archie had heard tales about what wand length indicated about a wizard, and none of the short-wanded stereotypes were too complimentary. Oh well. At least none of them were really short, or made out of flobberworm or anything.

“Kraken?” Archie’s hand darted out for the dogwood wand. It had a nicer grip than the one he had now and he admired the smooth, polished surface for a minute before trying an experimental swish.

The lamp on the counter exploded in a shower of glass.

“Shit!” gasped Archie, as Mr. Ollivander repaired it and relit the wick. “I’m sorry!” Next time he’d position himself more carefully, he thought, looking around, but there didn’t seem to be a square inch of the shop that wasn’t stacked to the ceiling with highly breakable objects. The shelves at least didn’t have any glass in them. After some thoughtful humming he chose the hippogriff wand. That one, however, didn’t respond to him at all when he gave it a try.

He looked toward Rod with an awkward grimace, to ask for advice—but Rod hadn’t ever done this before, had he? How odd. Archie wasn’t often the first one to do something.

Roderick stepped back, just half a step, when the lamp exploded. "Seems promising," he said, trying to catch Ollivander's eye as he tidied up the mess. The glare in his eyes was not the clearest way of saying do not fuck this up for him, but certainly the most subtle.

Ollivander, in his defence, seemed quite non-plussed about the whole thing, making a quick note on a scrap of paper. "Happens all the time, young man," the old man warbled. "It's part of the process. The wand chooses the wizard, but I have to find the wand, first." He hmmed and hawed for a moment, before scooping up all the wand boxes. "Definitely upwards of ten and a half, I think," the wandmaker muttered.

Archie turned his head back to Roderick, and the older Macnair shrugged. "No idea, mate," he said. Well, he had some idea - Roderick had aced the wand wood module in Herbology, but it was such a short part of the course, and cores were beyond him. He had a vague notion that Archie would need something without a lot of give, but more give than the family wand. Which was, altogether, not a very helpful assessment.

Ollivander popped his head around a corner. "You didn't get your wand here, did you?" the wandmaker asked, pointing at Roderick. Roderick shook his head. "What do you have?"

Ah, shit. It was an impressive wand, long as he didn't mention the core. "Hawthorn, twelve and an eighth." Softer, he added, "Troll whisker core."

Ollivander pressed his lips together and disappeared again.

It was a long moment before he returned, more boxes stacked in his arms. Hawthorn, Basilik horn, 10-8/10. Elm, 11-1/4, unicorn. Beechwood, 11-1/4, kraken. Elm, 11-1/2, merfolk. Birch, 11-1/4, dragon. Roderick was a little envious, in a nostalgic sort of way - already they were on nine options for Archie. Somewhere in here was a wand that Archie wouldn't have to tame, the first Macnair in a long time to not have to fight his wand.

Promising, remarked Roderick when Archie blew up the lamp, which eased his shame with at least a bit of confusion. Wasn’t as if Rod would know, though. Archie looked to Mr. Ollivander to confirm. Now assured, he felt a bit more comfortable in the shop. He always liked his classes best when the common destructive side effects of learning magic were planned for rather than punished. His classmates had definitely mentioned causing some damage here, he supposed—he’d just assumed they were glossing over the reprimands. He did that all the time himself, after all.

He still didn’t know the significance of wand length but Upwards of ten and a half made him stand pridefully a little straighter up anyway.

While he was testing out the new wands, Mr. Ollivander asked Roderick about his. Archie stopped destroying the shop to eavesdrop. Poor Rod sounded sheepish about his Troll wand. Was there something wrong with them? In Archie’s mind trolls were perfectly strong and magical, even if they weren’t very smart. But he didn’t think this shop used them. He’d picked up a certain superiority complex from the Ollivander’s customers at school, and was disappointed to get the impression from the wandmaker himself as well. Not that he wasn’t allowed to have pride in his work, Archie supposed. But if Ollivander wands were really the only ones in Britain worth having, he thought they ought to be a bit more accessible. Be provided directly by Hogwarts, perhaps. Archie didn’t look kindly on unequal advantages and didn’t think he would even if he had them—that was the Hufflepuff in him, he thought.

The wand he was holding now was hawthorn, like his brother’s. He flicked it and the back of Mr. Ollivander’s robes caught fire. Archie’s eyes widened in panic even though the wandmaker snuffed the flames out with barely a glance backward. He considered the smooth, gleaming wand in his hand. It was harder to tell now if that had been a mistake like the lamp or his intended result.

He didn’t like that feeling, so he put it down anyway and picked up the unicorn one. That sounded safer.

At once it felt safer too—if Archie had been confused before he understood now what being chosen felt like. He looked back to Rod in excited wonderment, and wished he knew any really cool spells to do. With the power in his hands now it felt like he could conjure a dragon if he wanted. ”Lumos,” he said instead, carefully following the motion Professor Flitwick had taught them—the last thing he wanted now was to be proven wrong. He wasn’t. The dim little shop glowed far brighter than it had any right to from the tip of the unicorn wand.

Archie shivered and grinned.

[out]

Five more wands laid out on the table. Roderick watched, arms crossed, eyes narrowed, as his little brother picked up one of the new set. That was - hawthorn, that was going to be too brittle for Archie -- ah. Before he had a chance to finish the thought Roderick was proven right with the swell of flame at Ollivander's hem. Well, progress. He nodded approvingly, just in case Archie cast his gaze back towards him again.

Archie put that wand back and picked up another. Roderick craned his neck to catch the end label. Elm, that was reasonable, maybe? His internal Herbology review session was cut short quickly by the change in Archie's posture, that small shift right before the younger Macnair looked back at him. Archie's face was alight with wonder. Roderick couldn't help but crack a grin - a real grin, toothy and crooked, one that was reserved almost exclusively for Archie and Kelsey.

"Lumos", Archie said, setting the shop aglow with soft amber light.

"That's the one, then," Roderick said after a moment, giving Archie time to just feel the magic flow before breaking the trance. He strode forward, plucking the empty box from the counter and setting it in front of the till. There was an awkward juggling moment as Roderick untangled himself from both Archie's bag and his own satchel. "How much?"

Ollivander named a number. Roderick blanched despite himself, praying Archie couldn't see him. There was enough, there had to be enough. The moneybag came out - Roderick waved his wand over it, counting out magically neat stacks of Galleons. The bag got emptier and emptier, but the number was reached with some small coins left. A small sigh of relief escaped Roderick's lips. He stuffed the bag back into his satchel (so much lighter), and with a nod to Ollivander, presented the box to his little brother. "Happy belated birthday, Archie."

[[out]]