HP: Those Years Sleeping with the Half-Blood Prince

The Ollivanders wand shop was filled with the smell of dust and sawdust.

As soon as Ian entered the store, Mr. Ollivander slid down the tall ladder.

"Ah, yet another new student." Ollivander said warmly, "Burke child, if I remember correctly, your father used black walnut wood, dragon nerve, twelve and three-quarters inches, quite flexible."

"You remember every single customer?" Ian asked in surprise.

"Every one, every wand." Ollivander had Ian extend his dominant hand and began measuring his body dimensions.

Ian extended his left hand.

"A special kid." Ollivander carefully measured Ian's left hand and then noted down the data for his right hand. After a moment's thought, he began rummaging through the box. "Let's see... try this one, beechwood, unicorn hair, ten inches, quite flexible."

Ian took the wand and waved it gently. Suddenly, the bookshelf next to him collapsed, scattering books all over the floor.

"No, no, that's obviously not suitable." Ollivander quickly withdrew his wand and handed over another one. "Mahogany, dragon heartstring, eleven inches, good elasticity."

This time, the tip of the wand shot out a string of sparks, burning several small holes in the ceiling.

"Not this one either." Ollivander looked at Ian thoughtfully. "You're no ordinary young man. I can sense your great potential. Ah, perhaps this one."

He disappeared into the depths of the shop and returned much later, holding a box that looked particularly ancient.

"Try this," Ollivander said, opening the box. "Ebony, Thestral tail feathers, thirteen and a half inches long, as hard as iron."

The moment Ian took the wand, a warm feeling spread from his fingertips throughout his body.

With a gentle wave, golden and silver sparks burst forth from the tip of his wand.

Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

"An extraordinary combination! Thestral tail feathers are extremely rare and powerful. Only wizards who have witnessed death can fully wield them. Ebony is suited for maverick wizards. Yes, yes, it's a perfect match."

Ian stared at the wand in his hand.

It was heavier than any other wand he had ever tried, and the wood was a deep black with fine grain.

The tail feathers of the Thestral; those who can see the Thestral are all people who have witnessed death. He thought of his grandfather, who had passed away two years ago, the old man who was always serious but would secretly give him candy.

"Seven Galleons," Ollivander quoted.

Ian paid, carefully placed the wand in the inside pocket of his robe, and left the wand shop.

Walking through the bustling crowd and turning into a quiet alley, Ian returned to the Borgin-Bock store.

Mr. Bokin looked up from his ledger. "Have you finished shopping?"

"I've bought it." Ian patted the pocket where the wand was kept.

Bojin nodded, about to say something, when the shop door was pushed open.

A woman wrapped in a dark cloak walked in, carrying a birdcage covered with a black cloth.

She walked straight to the counter and placed the birdcage on it.

"Name your price," she said hoarsely.

Bojin slowly lifted a corner of the black cloth.

Inside the cage was a shriveled raven specimen, its eyes inlaid with obsidian, and its body engraved with various magical patterns.

"The Cursed Raven..." Bogin tapped the cage with his finger. "The third cry will take away the eyesight of the listener. Interesting. Fifteen Galleons."

"Thirty," the woman said coldly.

"Twenty, no more. This stuff is hard to sell. Those who know what they're doing won't buy it, and those who don't will buy it and cause trouble, leaving me to clean up the mess."

Ian leaned closer to take a look.

"There's a crack in the silver ring on its left claw," he said softly. "That means the curse might be unstable, it might trigger prematurely, or it might trigger randomly."

The woman suddenly turned to look at him.

Bokin laughed.

"He's right." Borgin picked up the ledger again. "Eighteen Galleons, or you can take it to another place and try."

The woman glared at Ian, but finally nodded.

The transaction was complete. She grabbed her money bag and hurried away, the doorbell ringing violently.

"Good observation skills," Bokin said slowly as he labeled the birdcage. "But next time, don't be so explicit. Most of the 'guests' in Knockturn Alley aren't very good-tempered."

"Understood, Mr. Borgin," Ian readily agreed.

At 7 p.m., Ian's parents appeared at the store entrance on time.

The father, John Burke, was a tall man, dressed in a Ministry of Magic official's robe, and had a gentle smile on his face.

The mother, Leah, was dressed in a light green robe, a typical healer's garment. Her blonde hair was neatly tied up in a bun at the back of her head, and she had a faint herbal scent about her.

"Mr. Burkin, thank you for your help this past month." John Burkin politely nodded to the shop owner behind the counter, his tone courteous yet maintaining a distance.

"Little Burke learns very quickly." Mr. Burkin still didn't look up, focusing intently on the ledger in his hands. "At least he has a sharp eye."

Leah Burke walked quickly to Ian, looked him over carefully, and then gave him a gentle hug. "Was everything alright, darling? Did you get everything?"

"Everything's here, Mom," Ian said, showing off his shopping haul.

"That's good. Let's go home. You still need to pack your things." Leah turned to Borkin with a professional smile. "Thank you again, Mr. Borkin. Ian, goodbye Mr. Borkin."

"Goodbye, Mr. Borkin. Thank you for your guidance during this time," Ian said.

Mr. Borgin finally lifted his eyelids from the ledger, glanced at them, and said, "Well, Hogwarts... good luck, lad."

They took Ian back to their small home in the suburbs of London via the Floonet.

The week at home flew by.

Ian flipped through his new textbooks again and again, especially the one titled "Potions and Elixirs," and he remembered the gleam in Severus's eyes when he read the herbalist's book.

King's Cross Station was bustling with activity on September 1st.

Ian pushed his luggage cart through the crowd, with his parents flanking him on either side.

"Remember to write a letter when you get to school."

"Don't cause trouble, but don't let others bully you either."

"Pay attention to a balanced diet; you're still growing."

Ian responded while looking around, and then he saw that familiar, thin figure.

Severus stood by the wall of Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, wearing an altered old robe, with a red-haired girl beside him.

The girl was excitedly talking about something, and Severus listened, nodding occasionally, with an expression Ian had never seen in the bookstore.

"I ran into a classmate!" Ian told his parents, then pushed his bike toward them.

"Severus!"

Severus turned his head, paused for a moment when he saw Ian, then nodded slightly. "Ian."

"This is Lily Evans," Severus introduced the girl beside him.

Lily had bright green eyes and smiled at Ian in a friendly manner.

"Hello! Are you a freshman too?"

"Yes, my name is Ian Burke."

They chatted briefly. Lily was lively and talkative, while Severus remained mostly silent, but his eyes always followed Lily.

"It's almost time," Severus said in a low voice.

Ian said goodbye to his parents, and the three children walked together across the platform wall.

The deep red steam train spewed thick smoke, and the platform was filled with the hooting of owls and the gentle admonitions of parents.

They found an empty private room. Lily sat by the window, Severus sat opposite her, and Ian sat next to Severus.

After the train started moving, Lily took out a bag of homemade cookies and shared them with everyone.

Severus ate in small bites, while Ian ate and recounted his experiences in Knockturn Alley, omitting the darker parts.

Lily listened with wide eyes, and Severus occasionally chimed in with his comments on dark magic items, making Ian once again realize how knowledgeable he was.

"Which college do you think we'll be assigned to?" Lily asked.

Ian laughed and said, "I'll probably go to Slytherin. My parents both graduated from Slytherin."

Severus glanced at Ian with some surprise.

Lily rested her chin on her hand. "I'd prefer Gryffindor, it sounds brave, but Hufflepuff is good too, I heard they're closest to the kitchen. Severus, what about you?"

"Slytherin." Severus had barely finished speaking when the box door was flung open.