"It's Granger, Hermione Granger."
Altair, who had already sensed her magical signature, briefly froze when Ollivander called the girl a McKinnon.
"Granger?" The old man frowned, clearly confused, then glanced at the two Muggles who entered the shop.
He seemed to understand something in that moment and smiled.
"Well, of course, Miss Granger. I suppose you are here for your first wand?"
"Yes," Hermione excitedly nodded, glancing at Altair, who was chatting with his House-elf, Fruska, who was sitting at the desk, swinging her legs.
Since he did not turn to look at her, she did not dare call out to him, especially after what Madam Malkin had told her about how noble he was.
"Well, Mister Black, let us see how perceptive your magical sense is. Can you tell us which wand wood and core would suit Miss Granger best?"
Altair glanced at the old man, then turned to meet the girl's eyes, who was watching him intently, and smiled.
Old Garrick could sense which wood and core would suit the girl, and there was a good reason why he was in doubt.
"Come here, Hermione." He spoke gently, and she instinctively stepped forward, placing her hand in his.
Altair kissed her knuckles again, and this time, she blushed slightly.
"Vine, undoubtedly vine, and Dragon Heartstring."
"Which Dragon Heartstring?" Old Garrick asked, and the young Black smiled.
"Mongolian Skycleaver."
Sure enough, as soon as he heard the answer, Ollivander's eyes widened in surprise and he smiled.
"Of course."
All of the old man's doubts were cleared, but then he frowned slightly.
"I happen to have only two wands with this Dragon Heartstring. One is, fortunately made of vine, however..."
"Show her," Altair said, understanding that the wand was not standard.
Ollivander caught his intention and hurried to the back of the shop, soon returning with a wand case.
Hermione had not even realised she was still holding Altair's hand, gripping it tightly, her eyes fixed on the wand when the box was opened.
It was long, thin, and entwined with vine patterns, literal vines, a truly magical thing.
"Twelve inches, Vine, and the Heartstring of the Mongolian Skycleaver as its core," Ollivander presented it to her and bowed slightly, and Hermione let go of Altair's hand and reached for it.
As soon as she held it, a magical hum sounded and her clothes and hair fluttered under a sudden gust of wind.
Her wand's tip glowed, and both Garrick and the young Black smiled, seeing it was indeed a perfect match.
"Fascinating... you are destined for greatness, Miss Granger. That is a truly special wand."
Ollivander's words added to the wave of emotions that were already coursing through her.
"How does it feel?" Altair knowingly asked, smiling at her.
"It's... magical..." she whispered, still in a trance.
"Oh, is it?" He chuckled, and hearing him laugh helped her get back her wits.
This time, however, she did not glower at him.
"Thank you," she said to Lord Ollivander, beaming, but before she could accidentally wave her hand, Altair caught it.
"Careful. You must not carelessly wave your wand, Hermione." He spoke gently, and she immediately looked nervous. "Knowledge is the key. Read first, understand, and only then use your wand. Also, you are not permitted to use magic in Muggle households. You must not practise magic at home. Your wand will be confiscated and you will lose your right to attend Hogwarts."
Her face paled at his words, and when she looked at the old man, she saw him nodding gravely as well.
"However, you can always come to Diagon Alley to practise magic. No one will even notice unless you are attempting something dangerous. Still, be discreet about it." He offered her a mischievous solution, and she brightened at once.
"All right."
"Also, this is not always a safe place. Only stay on the main street. Never go to Knockturn Alley. Do not associate with any suspicious people. If you feel someone is not trustworthy, follow your instincts." He let go of her hand and gently patted her head before leaning close to her ear. "Do not disclose your wand's core to anyone. Not even to your teachers at school. Simply say it is vine and dragon heartstring. All right?"
"All right..." she promised, and then looked at the old man. "How much does this wand cost, sir?"
Ollivander did not answer but turned to Altair, who smiled.
"Eight Galleons."
"Eight?" She looked at him and the old man in surprise.
"Standard wands are subsidised by the Ministry and usually cost thirty-five to forty-five Galleons. Their true price is often twice or thrice that, sometimes even more," Altair explained. "Your wand has been sitting here too long, and Lord Ollivander is very happy it has found its master today. So, for you, a special price. Eight Galleons. Eight is an auspicious and magical number, and for some, even more magical than seven."
"Mister Black is correct. Eight Galleons it is," Garrick nodded, and Hermione was truly delighted.
She confidently drew eight Galleons from her pouch and placed them on the desk.
"Thank you," she said, bowing a little in an attempt to follow etiquette. Both Ollivander and Altair politely returned her bow.
"There are gifts waiting for you at the Stationery Shop and at Thorne & Feather. Already paid for," Altair whispered to her.
"What...?"
"If you ever wish to write to me, give your letter to your owl and tell him to deliver it to Black Castle in Buttermere. He will find me. Also, the cat is adorable, just like you. I hope you will take good care of it."
She looked at him in surprise, blushing as he patted her head again.
"On your way, Hermione. Lord Ollivander and I have important things to attend to." He spoke gently, and the girl smiled and nodded before leaving.
Once she had gone with the Muggle couple, Lord Ollivander turned to him with interest.
"You know, Mister Black, just like the Abyssinian Dreadback, this heartstring too will never choose a witch or wizard whose blood is not pure."
"I know."
"And do you know who she is?" he asked, and Altair met his gaze steadily.
"I hope you will not discuss her wand or its core with anyone, Lord Ollivander. I mean anyone."
"Rest assured, her secret is safe with me."
Altair smiled, then sat on the stool.
"She's my cousin. Daughter of Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon."
Lord Ollivander looked at him in shock, but quickly hid it. He was not shocked by Hermione's identity, but by the fact that Altair knew about it.
"I see."
The two then discussed the true price of Hermione's wand, and Altair paid the rest of Galleons from his pocket. Exactly seven hundred and nine Galleons. The total price of the wand was seven hundred and seventeen Galleons.
However, this was something that Hermione would perhaps never find out.
Later, after closing for the day, Altair followed the old man to his workshop.
Given how excited Garrick was, he began working immediately after storing the cores away.
The wand he chose to create was the one for Laetitia Rosier: ebony, thirteen inches, with Thestral tail hair.
Altair and Fruska watched in silence as he selected a block of carefully cured wood and used his wand to shape it.
The process was time-consuming, as he had to design the wand, ensure it was tasteful, and represent the core in some way.
It took hours, and when he was finally finished, he brought the wand to an altar and began a series of enchantments and rituals.
Because the wandcrafting process required absolute concentration, he stayed very quiet, and Altair did not interrupt or ask for explanations.
The young Black watched, fascinated, as all the runes from the altar streamed into the wand. Then Lord Ollivander produced a new set of runes from his tome and placed the vial with the Thestral hair at the centre.
When the hair floated free, he replaced the vial with the wand, and a magical sphere surrounded both wood and core.
Altair watched as the core merged with the wand in a slow, difficult process that drained all the colour from the old man's face.
It took hours, and it was remarkable that Garrick could withstand the magical drain.
When core and wand were completely united, a resonant hum sounded, and the wand's design refined itself before their eyes.
The sphere shattered, and the newly crafted wand settled gently on the altar.
Lord Ollivander, swaying and breathless, picked up the wand and polished it fondly, inspecting every inch.
At last, he retrieved a prepared wand box and, before placing the wand inside, called Altair over to share his thoughts.
"I can safely say this wand was even more challenging than that of your father. My finest Thestral tail hair wand to date."
Altair smiled as he gazed at the simple, stylish, elegant, and powerful design. It was a wand that truly suited Laetitia.
"It's perfect, Lord Ollivander."
"I am glad to hear it, Mister Black. Now I need to rest a week before attempting another wand with a tricky core." He took a deep breath and sighed.
"When do you plan to create the next wand?"
"Since I have never worked with basilisk cores before, I need to make extra preparations. It may take several days to complete."
"Oh, I will leave it to you then. I hope you will surprise me with the designs as well. They must fit the core they bear."
"Of course." Lord Ollivander nodded, looking pleased.
"Thank you for allowing me to witness the wandcrafting process, Lord Ollivander." Altair bowed politely, and the old man smiled and nodded.
"Thank you for letting me work with such remarkable cores, Mister Black."
"You are welcome," Altair replied, then handed him the paper with Luna's wand design.
"I have never allowed anyone to dictate the design of my wands before, Mister Black, but I will make an exception for you. This is truly a wand worthy of the feather of the Noctis Corvum."
"I am happy to hear it, Lord Ollivander. Please, do get some rest now." He bowed once more and then took Fruska's hand, who teleported him straight outside Thorne & Feather.
Altair smiled, learning that Hermione had taken both pets he had prepared for her, and gave the attendant a generous tip before returning to Grimmauld Hall.
He was a little late for dinner, so he quickly freshened up and hurried downstairs, not wishing to keep his mother waiting any longer.
"My apologies, Granduncle, Mother." He bowed before taking his seat, and Cygnus smiled at him.
"It's all right, Altair. I hope it was worth the wait."
"It was. I managed to convince Lord Ollivander to let me observe the wandcrafting process. He created a beautiful wand, ebony, thirteen inches, Thestral tail hair."
"Thestral tail hair?" The old man looked at him in surprise, and Altair nodded and told them everything in detail.
"Sounds like that is not something just anyone can accomplish."
"It certainly is not," Altair agreed. "Lord Ollivander is truly exceptional. He has created his own set of runes for the wandcrafting process. Even if someone tried to copy them, they would fail. Those runes are unique to him."
"Well, it sounds as if my son has suffered a loss," Altaira said playfully, and he chuckled.
"I never suffer a loss, Mother. I convinced him to do something special for me. Also, he is now indebted to me for allowing him to work with such unique cores."
"Oh?"
He smiled, then frowned.
Both his Granduncle and Mother saw that he was hesitant to speak, which was rare for him.
"Yes, Altair?"
The young Black sighed and took a sip of water.
"Uncle Sirius has a secret daughter."
At his words, both Cygnus and Altaira's eyes widened, then narrowed.
"Are you certain?" his mother asked, and seeing him nod, she lapsed into thought.
"She was born between September and December 1979. Her first name is Hermione, a magical name. Her second name is Jean. Yet the last name she bears is Granger. That Muggle man, whom she calls father, is likely descended from the squib son of Hector Dagworth-Granger."
"The girl is a Half-blood?" Cygnus asked coldly.
He might have reluctantly accepted her presence if she had a Muggle-born mother, but a Muggle parent...
"No. She is a Pure-blood. Most likely adopted by the Muggles. Someone hid her outside the magical world and cast a powerful charm to mask her true eyes. They even tampered with her teeth, giving her prominent front teeth. Likely to prevent her being recognised. Lord Ollivander still sensed her magical signature."
"Pure-blood?" Altaira raised her brow, and he nodded.
"Bushy brown hair, like a mane. Her mother was Marlene McKinnon. Marlene McKinnon's mother was called Jean, if I am not mistaken."
His words surprised both of them, and they fell into silent thought.
"A Pure-blood witch being raised by Muggles?" Cygnus nearly growled, but Altaira placed a hand on his arm to calm him.
"Relax, Uncle. I shall look into this," she promised, then glanced at her son. "Was she abused?" she asked coldly, but relaxed when Altair shook his head.
"No, she has not been abused. The Muggle couple truly treat her as their own child. She is happy and kind."
His words eased both his mother and Granduncle.
"That boy... At least he did not bring shame to our blood by siring a child with a Muggle." Cygnus sighed, furrowing his brows. "Dumbledore... he is playing another game. I am sure Sirius does not even know that he has a child."
Altaira seemed to agree, and she knew she would have to be discreet in looking into this supposed 'Muggle-born' girl.
"The name on her letter was Hermione Jean Granger?"
"Yes, Mother. It was a letter sent to Muggle-borns, with all the supplementary readings listed. There was no one from Hogwarts with them for shopping."
Altaira nodded and fell silent, and the three of them did not speak again until they had finished eating.
"I shall go and speak with Amelia. Remember to go to Black Castle tomorrow, Altair. Your grandparents are there now. They asked for you today."
At these words, he smiled brightly and promised to go in the morning to have breakfast with them.
"You have not told us about that ring yet, Altair," Cygnus suddenly said, and the young Black glanced at the ring on his right hand.
"It is the Ancestral Ring of House Slytherin, Granduncle. Only the Lord of the House can wear it."
Both adults looked at him in astonishment, then stared at the ring.
"And who gave it to you?"
"Lord Salazar," he answered honestly, and the two were even more astonished.
"Where?"
"In Lord Salazar's Solar. I found it. There is also a portrait of him. A very special portrait..." he said, and told them about finding the Solar and his conversations with Salazar. Both listened in fascination.
When he finally excused himself to his room, Altaira shared a look with her uncle, and they both sighed and smiled.
The Lady of the Black Family then rose to go and visit her friend, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.