[ seven, ollivanders ]

[Outside back in Diagon Alley, Aemma and Hagrid are walking through the street. Aemma has bought most of her equipment, and is reading her list.]

Aemma: I still need... a wand.

Just because Aemma understood the importance of this memory, it didn't mean she was keen on sharing it with more than a select few people. Being matched with a wand was quite the private ordeal, a meaningful moment in any witch and wizard's life, no matter how many times it took place. Unfortunately, privacy was not something Aemma could exactly afford with a wand such as hers, for it wasn't just one of a kind; it was special, and it had saved her more than once.

Excited by the prospect of learning more about this new wondrous world he wished to one day visit, Daeron scooted forward in his seat and addressed the four visitors. "What's a wand?" He didn't even attempt to hide the eagerness in his tone of voice, and the witches and wizards couldn't help but smile at the open-minded boy.

Never one to shy away from sharing her knowledge, Hermione cleared her slightly parched throat. "A wand is an object used to channel one's magic, to make a spell more accurate and stronger. They're used to teach us magic, but they're not the only way we can cast a spell: people in other countries use other tools, and some of us can even cast wandlessly, meaning without a wand whatsoever." She kept her explanation as general as possible, for Wandlore was one of the most complex branches of magic she'd ever delved into.

Aegon let out a tired yawn, his disinterest in the subject apparent. Perhaps it was all the alcohol he'd consumed or the fact that he'd never been a particularly attentive scholar; regardless, he'd stopped listening halfway through Hermione's explanation, finding it more of a chore than waking up before noon. When more than one of his siblings turned to glare at him, he merely shrugged nonchalantly. "It's not my fault she's just as boring as our dear old Maester," He said while refilling his cup.

Hagrid: A wand? Well, yeh'll want Ollivanders. [he points to the store] There ain't no place better. Why don't you run along there and wait. I just got one more thing I got to do. Won't be long.

[Aemma goes into the store, quietly. She looks around. There are shelves of wands in boxes, but no people.]

Alicent wrinkled her nose, disgusted by the state of the establishment. Having just witnessed the beautiful interior of Gringotts, she couldn't help but compare the two establishments and find Ollivanders lacking, thus judging its owner rather severely. She couldn't fathom how people could laud someone like the shop owner when, in Westeros, a place like his would be avoided by all those of proper breeding.

Aemma: [Softly] Hello? Hello?

[Then, a noise comes from the back, and a man appears on a ladder and looks at Aemma. The man is Ollivander and he smiles.]

Ollivander: I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Ms. Potter.

Ever alert and on the lookout for possible threats, Daemon narrowed his eyes and scrutinised the man on the screen. Whilst his gut feeling told him that he harboured no ill will towards his daughter, he was rightfully confused by how easily he recognised her since she spent her whole life away from the Wizarding World. "How did he know it was you?" He asked Aemma to put his mind at ease.

"I've often been told I look like a female version of my father, but with my mother's eyes," Aemma replied longingly, wishing, above all else, she could see these similarities in person and not from a ghost or a photo. "And Mr. Ollivander remembers everyone who's ever bought a wand from him."

Rhaenys raised both eyebrows in disbelief, realisation dawning upon her before everyone else: if her granddaughter was the spitting image of Viserra Targaryen, her father must have been her male counterpart, sharing all her charms and wrecking Gods know how much havoc. Oh, she could almost hear the deceased princess laughing at all of them, for these two were, without a shadow of a doubt, her revenge.

Jealousy was a normal, healthy response, yet Rhaenyra didn't feel any when Aemma spoke about her birth parents with so much love; indeed, all she experienced was heartbreak for her children, who clearly never got to know their families as well as they'd once known herself and their father figures. Life had been terribly unkind to them, and if Rhaenyra could, she'd bring both sets of adults to this room just to make her kids happy.

Ollivander: It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands. [Picks a wand] Ah. Here we are. [Aemma holds it, but does nothing] Well, give it a wave. [Aemma is hesitant, but waves. This causes most of the boxes to come flying out and crashing down. Aemma jumps and hurriedly puts the wand back on the counter.]

Whilst their reactions might have been more subdued, it was impossible to miss how startled some people looked. Neville couldn't exactly blame them, not when his experience at Ollivanders would be seared into his brain for the rest of his days. "That's completely normal; it's what happens when the wand isn't a right fit," He explained, refraining from mentioning how he'd almost set the place on fire with his first one ( a nagging voice at the back of his head told him some people would have read far too much into it ).

Ollivander: Apparently not. [Ollivander gets another wand from a box.] Perhaps this. [Aemma waves at a vase, which shatters, startling her.] No, no, definitely not! No matter. [Gets a wand from a box but stops and becomes thoughtful] I wonder... [Ollivander hands the wand to Aemma. No sooner after she touches it, Aemma suddenly glows under it, blowing her hair up and several of the paperwork in the background. Ollivander looks a bit surprised and deep in thought.]

Multiple gasps echoed throughout the room as the Westerosi people stared in awe and wonder, transfixed by the beautiful and unexpected display of magic. They were so clearly taken by the sight of what was on the screen that they could barely contain their smiles, paying no mind whatsoever to the few who showed nothing but scorn, condemnation, and boredom.

Ollivander: Curious. Very curious.

Aemma: Sorry, but what's curious?

Ollivander: [Examining the wand he gave to Aemma] I remember every wand I've ever sold, Ms. Potter. It just so happens that the phoenix, whose tail feather resides in your wand gave another feather, just one other. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar. [Points to the lighting bolt scar on Aemma's forehead]

Ron smiled sadly at the girl who was like a sister to him, for the four of them knew why she'd been chosen by that wand, and being a Horcrux had very little to do with it. After countless hours of debate and trips into the Pensieve, they'd come to the realisation that Tom's 'twin brother' wand had been drawn to Aemma due to their similarities: at such a young age, neither of them had had the luxury of growing up with or knowing much ( if anything at all ) about their parents, they'd both been raised in an unloving environment and left by their lonesome because no one wanted to associate with them, they'd been deemed freaks and the adults surrounding them had tried to eliminate the magic that coursed through their veins by either denying its existence or labelling them as mentally unsound, and so on. Their theory was further confirmed when her wand kept on working perfectly for Aemma even upon Voldemort's demise; not only had she earned its loyalty and grown alongside it, the affinity between the two unparalleled, but it was inherently hers, never having been tampered by Voldemort's soul.

"Whoever used that wand to do so will know our ire," Stated an incensed Baela, her fists clenched so tight her nails broke the tender skin of her palm. She was so furious that not even her twin could calm her down, for all she could picture in her head was a baby version of her sister with a fresh, bleeding wound on her forehead.

Baela wasn't alone in her mutinous anger; several people stared at the screen while the hungry, ugly feeling ate away at them from the inside out.

Among these people was Aemond Targaryen, an individual who was no stranger to wrath yet was oddly currently overcome by indignation. 'How dare this stranger saddle her with twice the reminder of the night she'd been maimed?' Having forgiven her transgressions the moment he took her life, he found himself sympathising with her current predicament and loathing both her aggressor and the odd man who offered her her wand. ( Had Aemond stopped and thought about it, allowing his mind to clear, he would have realised that he wasn't upset about Aemma's situation, for he was merely projecting )

Aemma: And who owned that wand?

Ollivander: We do not speak his name. The wand chooses the wizard, Ms. Potter. It's not always clear why. But I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes, but great. [He hands Aemma back her wand.]

A chill went down Alicent's back as she analysed the man's words. The fact that there was someone who instilled so much fear into the Wizarding World that they refused to speak his name put her ill at ease, for not even the most formidable of adversaries in their world earned this treatment. She couldn't even fathom the horrible deeds this man had committed to earn himself the moniker 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named', but her hands still shook regardless as it rang in her mind.

"The man doesn't know how to speak to children, does he? I mean, talk about 'ominous'." Ron shook his head with a snort, yet he was nowhere near amused: he was annoyed at the wandmaker for already piling his expectations upon Aemma's shoulders when she was a child.

While Viserys agreed with the young wizard, he couldn't help but wonder if there wasn't a sliver of truth in what the man said about his granddaughter; after all, no ordinary child was born with a Prophecy looming above their head. "Was Mr Ollivander correct in his assumptions about you, dear Aemma? Did you truly perform great deeds?" Had he paid attention to how uncomfortable Aemma looked, mayhaps he would have realised that that wasn't the best thing to focus on at that moment.

To everyone's surprise, the answer came from the most unlikely source. Helaena had spent most of her life feeling uneasy because of other people, and the last thing she wanted was for her former niece to experience the same torment, especially after all she'd already been through. "They all did." The princess' response made it so everyone's attention wasn't solely focused on Aemma, allowing the witch to sigh in relief.

While the fact that both his grandchildren were known due to their great actions brought nothing but pride to the Lord of the Tides, the same couldn't be said for Otto Hightower, who stared at the pair as if they'd committed the most unforgivable offence known to mankind. Indeed, the last thing Otto needed was yet another Targaryen or Velaryon beloved and admired by the people. This fleeting worry, however, abandoned him as soon as he remembered that they were the only ones witnessing the former prince and princess' new lives.

[Aemma then hears a knock on the window.]

Hagrid: Aemma! Aemma! Happy birthday! [Has a snowy owl in a cage, which hoots; her name is Hedwig.]

Eyes fixed on the screen, Rhaenyra felt a severe jolt of sadness stabbing her deep in her chest, for she had a feeling that was the first true gift her daughter had ever received. However, whilst she silently bemoaned the unfairness of her sweet girl's childhood, she also thanked the Gods for sending someone with as pure a heart as Hagrid to rescue her and be her guide when she needed one the most. People like Hagrid were hard to come by, and Rhaenyra was confident that she would have owed the man a great deal by the end of it all.

Rhaena had always been able to appreciate true beauty when she saw it; thus, it was no surprise she was mesmerised by the majestic bird on the screen. It possessed an intelligent stare, a curious thing, and she wondered if it was the same for every animal in the Wizarding World. "It's truly stunning. What's its name?" She asked.

Tears brimmed in Aemma's eyes as she saw her loyal friend make her first appearance, for she missed her just as dearly as everyone else she'd ever loved and lost. "That's Hedwig," She replied, her voice thick with emotion. "Technically speaking, she was my second friend."

Cole laughed incredulously while shaking his head slowly. He'd known all along there was something wrong with her, just as when she was Lucerys, but befriending a bird? She must have been of unsound mind.

Daeron's lips twisted in a smirk before he patted the ruined knight's shoulder condescendingly. "Don't be shy, Ser Criston, tell us whatever amuses you so?" He taunted, voice tinged with mirth. "Who knows, mayhaps you'll join the likes of Vaemond Velaryon sooner than anticipated."

Little did the prince know that the exchange hadn't gone unnoticed by the Blacks, who'd been keeping an eye on him ever since he stepped foot into the room, for it wasn't every day that a child of Alicent Hightower went so blatantly against his kin. Many smiled and held back their chuckles, entertained by the boy's statements. It wasn't hard for them to imagine he would have fit in just fine amongst them, perhaps bringing peace once and for all.

Aemma: [Amazed] Wow.

author's note.      Thank you so much for all your well wishes; I really appreciated every single one of them. Unfortunately, I still haven't recovered, so updates might be a little all over the place for the foreseeable future. Just bear with me, okay? I promise I am not going anywhere!

Now, I'd talk about the S2 finale, but I liked it as much as S8 of GOT, which is saying something. What about you, guys? Is there anyone who actually enjoyed it beyond belief?