#wandmakers

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I like the feel of this wand. Its pommel heavy and the burnt tip looks nice. I added it just cus the wand was lacking something. . . . #wand #wands #conseptdesign #consept #wanddesign #wandconsept #wandcollection #harrypotter #harrypotterwands #design #wandconseptdesign #seizureart #fantasticbeastsandwheretofindthem #fantasticbeaststhecrimesofgrindelwald #olivanders #wandmaker #wandmakers #drawing #digitalart #weapondesign #weaponconseptart #fantasy #woodcraft #woodturning #woodwork #wood #tasmanianoak #conductorsbaton #exoticwood #chequered https://www.instagram.com/p/B6jtmzcjqm8/?igshid=1f22njpgg8if

[themonsterblogofmonsters]

Pastor Edmund Bream, Wandmaker

An American Wandmaker, known for his persistent curiosity and creation of highly unusual wands, Pastor Edmund Bream creates wands which are generally regarded as sub-standard, as their materials are not as well understood, nor always as powerful as the materials preferred by other professional wandmakers. However his wands are often precisely what the wixes chosen by them require, especially if they’ve had difficulty finding a match elsewhere. He is nonetheless widely regarded as a complete eccentric and as he is (often) the only wandmaker to use the materials he does he is only rarely seen in robes, more often wearing more comfortable trousers, shirts, tunics and jerkins while he travels about collecting parts for his latest experiment. Based in the Southern United States he regularly moves, whenever his latest experiment destroys his house.

At present Pastor Bream is most known for his Chupacabra claw, Cactus Cat spine and Boletum Crinis tendril wands, having phased out his use of more popular, larger creatures over the last few decades. Nonetheless he does still use the shed skin of Canyon Dragons in his wands - one of the only wandmakers to do so, due to the spell resistance of dragonhide - claiming that such wands are excellent for those who’s magic bursts in fits and starts, forcing it to slow down and steady. He is also to date the only wix known to have made a wand of Acheronta movebo wood, and one of very few to make full use of Askwery, the wood of the Georgia Greenwood Love Tree, Snapping Steel Vine, and Lucifer’s Snare. His willingness to experiment with the most inadvisable of substances - some of which have blown up rather epically in his face - and the fact his wands tend to have a rather short lifespan when subjected to regular use has caused many other wandmakers to call him a quack; nonetheless those who bought wands from him often had considerable difficulty finding matches elsewhere and are firm in their belief that the wand they got from him was the best wand for them.

(Image Source)

(I answered an ask about Pastor Bream yonks ago, Here. I hate that I have to include this but PLEASE DO NOT DELETE THE IMAGE SOURCE OR THE CAPTION.) 

[pottermetaarchive]

“But wands – what’ll people do for wands?” “They’ll make do with other makers.”

  - Half-Blood Prince, Ch. 6

Ollivander can’t be the only wandmaker in Britain, but he was obviously the best. I suppose there must be other decent ones, but certainly not in Diagon Alley – they’d have no business, with Ollivander’s popularity. I can’t think British wizards would want to go all the way to Gregorovitch though.

[dewitty1]

Currency

blythely, circetigana

Chapters: 4/4 Fandom: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Gregory Goyle, Ron Weasley, Petunia Evans, Original Characters, Hedwig Additional Tags: Wands, Wandmaking, London, Merchant Bankers, Future Fic, alternative careers, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE

Summary:

Harry wasn't at school any more, nor was he fifteen. He was a successful merchant banker with a flat to die for and an owl who loved him. And he wasn't going to get into a pissing match with a stick-fiddler who'd always driven him mental.

Excerpt:

Draco was sitting in Harry's chair, bare feet propped up on the July trading analysis as he nursed a cup of tea with obvious satisfaction.

Eyes widening, Harry glanced back at Seb, but he'd already back into his own office.

Very carefully, Harry stepped inside and shut the door behind him. "Hi," he managed in greeting, feeling as though the planet was off its axis by at least a few degrees.

"I hate mornings," Draco announced. "But today's seemed particularly nice."

"Not bad," Harry agreed and thought again of the night before. "But it would be nicer if you took your feet off my desk."

"All these gadgets," Draco observed, picking up the telephone headset and examining it with clinical interest. "How do you ever get any work done?"

"I don't, generally. I have minions."

Draco snorted and swung his legs down. "You're so full of it. You're a total workaholic. Look at all these filing cabinets, they're all stuffed with your report thingies. Yes, yes," he held up a hand to forestall Harry's protests, "I know you say it's very competitive and unpredictable, but it looks like tedious twaddle to me." He sniffed, flicking through the papers on Harry's desk with pursed lips. "Ooh, crossword. Did you finish it?"

"Seven across, but I thought of it yester—"

"Aplomb. No wonder it took you a while."

Harry took his suit jacket from the hanger on the back of the door, shrugging it on. He had three meetings during the day, all clients, all requiring maximum first impressions and none needing Draco Malfoy. Not when Draco was already the sum total of what was on Harry's mind anyway. "Hurry up and drink your tea so you can piss off out from under my feet."

Draco laced his fingers together and cracked the joints. He rose from Harry's chair with a showy bit of reluctance. "To tell you the truth, I'm hiding from Poppy. I'd promised her the day off, but with school beginning in a few weeks business is mad."

"Then shouldn't you be there?"

"Absolutely, but there's only so many pushy mothers a man can handle. It's not like a first year can master anything more advanced than swish-and-flick anyway — a twig would be of as much use. Oh, stop fretting, I'll be off shortly. By the by, this half-naked thing. It's getting to be a habit of yours."

Harry took a tie off the hanger and slung it around his neck. He didn't even try to fight off the smirk. "I'm told that the weight of anecdote is not data."

"Let me," Draco murmured, stepping forward, his eyes flashing dark for a second as he wound the silk into a windsor.

He was more deft with a tie than any wizard ought to be, Harry thought, watching Draco's fingers create the knot, tighten it and settle it at the base of Harry's throat. The sheer intimacy of the gesture rendered Harry jittery and speechless, his skin prickling at Draco's proximity.

"Very smart," said Draco, stepping back and slipping a hand to Harry's waist. His expression was inviting.

"You are short," was all Harry managed.

"I'm not wearing shoes." Draco scowled, tightening his hand on Harry's hip and pulling him incrementally closer. Harry had to close his eyes in frustration.

"Can't," he said shortly, "not here." The prickle of his skin was now heat, flooding tension and want across him.

Draco bristled. Irritation at the interruption evident, he waved his hand over Harry's shoulder and the door closed properly and clicked locked. Wandless.

Harry's lust hit him in full force, literally staggering him forward until he was pressed tight against Draco, driving him back against the wall.

He looked dazed, and Harry could only imagine how utterly fucking fantastic a compliant and scratchy Draco Malfoy would be in bed. Harry kissed him, all wet heat and addictive. That bit of throat. Right there.

ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁)

[peachbabypie]

Part I: Storm

Stormy little cottagecore Drarry AU —

Where Harry moves into an old cabin in the middle of the woods and Draco is the fae of the forest and he’s curious about this messy haired human with oversized ill fitting clothes and why he keeps harvesting the saplings that Draco so lovingly plants around his forest and Harry finally invites the wet little fae into his cottage for a hot cuppa and it clicks for Draco that this weird shaggy man is in fact a wand maker and he’s been using Draco’s trees for wands. Chaos ensues.

[sitp-recs]

Among Ancient Pines by @graymatters

Artwork by @cambiodipolvere and @onlytheheartknows​

Harry/Draco (2021, Mature, 74k)

Every day, Draco Malfoy tries. With every fiber of his being he tries. But he doesn’t much think about what he’s trying for. A fic about challenging assumptions, discovering self-worth, the silver lining in failing to meet expectations, and finding friendship, love, and purpose in a small Alaskan town that’s steeped in magic.

“Rule number one”—Draco lifts a forefinger in the air to begin his count—“no feelings.” He speaks the words intentionally, willing them into truth, hoping for a Time-Turner to appear amidst the clutter on Harry’s table.

My first rec outside birthday gifts caught me completely off guard. I’m gonna preface this by saying that I trust @sweet-s0rr0w’s taste with all my heart, and even knowing her rec couldn’t be anything other than perfect I’m still shook by how much I adored this fic. High chances of being my favorite BB together with Home Truths by @skeptiquex, and they are definitely among my favorite 2021 reads. Ancient Pines reminded me a lot of one of my all-time fave fics, A Sword Laid Aside by korlaena - not in terms of characterization or plot-wise (although hermit Harry sharing his refuge with Draco is totally my jam!). No, the similarities are more related to tone and intent. Both stories feel properly adult, mature and contemplative yet light and tender in a way that feels almost poetic.

This kind of writing always gives me chills and makes me feel like basking in a warm bath, it’s so hard not to mourn the experience once it’s over. Here’s to another fic I wish I could read for the first time over and over! Ancient Pines has a perfect mix of so many elements I personally love: Healer Draco, hermit Harry, wand lore, friends with benefits gone (remarkably) wrong, low key emotional angst, found family, comfort food, Draco & Ginny friendship, a sexy amount of sneaky escapades with many fingers going into belt loops, and much more. Harry and Draco’s dynamics are simply fantastic, from the delightful banter to the passionate lovemaking. I’m captivated by this chill, earnest, observant and tender Harry, his good-natured ways edged just a lil bit with the kind of defiant stubbornness he saves only for Draco.

And this Draco is just the perfect match for him! Smart and capable, warm yet overthinking every little step and grasping for control by setting empty rules he’s bound to break. It’s such a lovely thing to watch them come together amidst the wild and evocative landscape of Alaska, with easy familiarity despite having an unspoken past looming over their heads. It’s even lovelier to watch Draco find his self-worth and identity along the way, coming to terms with what he wants and daring to take a leap plunge of faith. What a touching showcase of character development!

Beyond the gorgeous characterization, this fic also has delightful OCs (Meg & Fee own my heart!) and sets a perfect pace mixing delicious banter, detailed wand magic and gentle romance. And it’s so gentle, and fun, and sweet! Their dynamics feel very organic and the way “Let’s have fun” becomes “What can I do?” reflect how much these characters grow to learn and care for each other. Lastly, I wanna give a massive shoutout to the talented cambiodipolvere and onlytheheartknows​ who captured the fic’s essence and gorgeous aesthetics with stunning art pieces! Their work got me even more immersed in this universe and put a big smile on my face. If you’re looking for a soft and resonant comfort read, search no more: this journey is your next read!

Read on AO3

[invictusarcana]

We are back and restocked!

Hey everyone! The shop is back and I’ve restocked everything (100+ designs, more are coming as I index them). Now that my maternity leave is over, I’m posting the entirety of my collection with previous designs. 🤗 If you are having trouble choosing a wand, check out the search bar and enter one of your personality traits (or hogwarts house) for the database to pair you with a wand.

[the-darkest-of-lights]

Wand anointing ointment This ointment is spread onto a wand before using it in practice. Made of linseed oil, beeswax, frankincense, myrrh and vitamin E oil. #ointment #wands #wandmaking #wand #witchcraft #tradwitch #witchesofinstagram #bookofshadows #bookofshadowspages #bookofshadowspage #bookofshadowsjournal #watercolor #magicaljournal #occult #occultist #occultism https://www.instagram.com/p/CbK-YsVLAa-/?utm_medium=tumblr

[drarryshorts]

Harry considers his latest wand and sighs.

BODY ELECTRIC by @lastontheboat Rating: M Archive Warning: None Length: 8,844 Published: December 2020 Additional Tags: Wandmaker Harry Potter, Veela Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, draco has commitment issues, harry makes wands the muggle way, draco's magic is suddenly on the fritz, oh no what could be causing it, nothing a good lust-powered wand crafting session won't fix, Harry Potter Has Long Hair, Dirty Talk, woodworking is sexy and nothing will change my mind on this subject

“What could you possibly want?” Harry asks. "Would you believe I’m here for assistance with my wand?” Malfoy replies, still refusing to meet his eyes, and Harry snorts. “There are other wand makers,” he says tightly. “Unless you’ve slept with all of them as well.”

A fresh take on both the Wandmaker!Harry and the Veela!Draco Malfoy trope, this fic is a masterclass in tension and dramatic intimacy. You'll find yourself as breathless watching Harry craft Draco's wand as Draco and Harry are themselves, building desire into every moment and bit of fantastic dialogue. The wandlore and veela worldbuilding is outstanding!

[sad--tree]

CHILDHOOD FUNTIMES NOSTALGIA VEHICLES ACQUIRED

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A simple wand. The brass nob at the end is nice and heavy, making up for the light amount of wood. And I added a burnt tip that radiates down the blade. What are your thoughts? . . . . #wand #wands #conseptdesign #consept #wanddesign #wandconsept #wandcollection #harrypotter #harrypotterwands #design #wandconseptdesign #seizureart #fantasticbeastsandwheretofindthem #fantasticbeaststhecrimesofgrindelwald #olivanders #wandmaker #wandmakers #drawing #digitalart #weapondesign #weaponconseptart #fantasy #woodcraft #woodturning #woodwork #wood #tasmanianoak #conductorsbaton #exoticwood #chequered https://www.instagram.com/p/B6jpa1nj_5X/?igshid=14jwag1abhdze

[tyetknot]

Hello Tyet! Any tip, advice or reading about how to make wands? Thank you very much!

Hi there!

Wand-making is a highly individualized art, because it is both very simple and very easy to customize. The wands I make are the more natural tree branch kind, and not turned on a lathe - I do plan on trying out turned ones (I even own a lathe! I just haven't had the chance to set it up yet!) but there's a bit of an over-full market for lathe-turned ones which I believe is due to people catering to Harry Potter cosplayers. Tree branches are much easier for the beginner wand-maker and novice witch or magician since trees are common in most of the world. I'm afraid I don't know what desert witches do, I live in a temperate zone.

First one needs to decide whether you want live or dead wood - by this I mean, do you want to cut a branch from the tree, or use a fallen one? My primary consideration here is: do you have a particular wood you wish to use? Leaving magical properties aside, you can't be 100% certain that a fallen branch came from a particular tree. My own views here are that wood for a wand should be taken from a live tree, because then it has life to it - it's also much easier to trim, peel the bark (not everyone does that, mind you), and do coarse smoothing when the wood is still green. Ceremonial magicians and witches influenced by the Solomonic current will know that traditionally the wand is cut with one stroke from a hazel tree at sunrise on a Wednesday, but this is not a hard and fast rule for everyone. Fruitwood is worthwhile, I think, because there is a pleasant symbolism there of, well, fruitfulness, of bringing your work into existence. My own wand that I primarily use is made from a branch of my apple tree that I gathered when it was in flower. You might choose the tree because of its magical symbolism, its location, whether you have an attachment to it, etc etc. The wand that I made would be good for doing love magic, if I wanted, but if I wanted to curse someone or do works of death and ruin I think I'd much rather use yew collected from a cemetery or something made from a branch that had been dead and rotting.

You may wish to make an offering of some sort to the tree, meditate with it, ask its permission etc. There may be specific actions called for depending on one's tradition. Collect the wood as carefully and cleanly as you can, so as to avoid un-necessary damage to the tree. Many people suggest that once collected the branch should not touch the ground. You may not care about this.

Trim the wood of excess branches, cut it to whatever size you feel is appropriate (again, opinions vary here), you may wish to peel the bark off as well. Are there specific things that need to be done to it according to your tradition and teachings? Do you need to let it dry for a certain amount of time? Does it need to be buried or immersed in running water? Do you need to use particular tools while making it? Are there certain symbols you need to have on it? Are there certain symbols you want to have on it? Is it pretty? Should it be?

When making a wand for sale, I will usually trim the wood, peel the bark and do rough sanding and shaping. A Dremel or rotary tool with a sanding drum or flap sander attachment is very useful for stripping and rough sanding and shaping. Carve it into whatever shape you need necessary or appropriate - again, the Dremel is helpful here. Some woods are harder to work than others. Some traditions call for the wand to have a phallic tip, and this can be as realistic or euphemistic as you like. The local wisdom where I live is that a phallic wand should have a moonstone bead on the tip, the symbolism of which should be obvious.

Carve your symbols into the wand at this point, or use a woodburner which is also a very useful tool for this art. I default to the wand sigils from the Greater Key of Solomon, as there is precedent for their use in a Wiccan context and also because they look cool. If you're putting a crystal on the end drill the socket for it now. You may wish to do this to help direct energy flow or to customise the purpose or symbolism for the wand - a carved moonstone point for one used in lunar work, for example - but you might also want to do that because it's pretty, which is perfectly fine. Aesthetics are important!

Once it has been carved, do your finer sanding, working from a coarser grade of sandpaper to a finer one. I like to use a sanding sponge for the medium sanding - say, 120 or 240 - and then progressively finer sandpaper, up to a 2000 grit. Be careful not to eliminate the carving or decoration. Rub it down with a soft cloth between sandpaper grades. Once you have it to your desired smoothness, you might want to seal it - I like using tung oil for this because it enhances the grain without leaving any residue and it doesn't make things any shinier. You could experiment with making a beeswax finish as well. Attach any stones or crystals, finish up and decorating, and I'd call it done.

You will probably want to consecrate it according to the dictates of your tradition, and then you're good to go!

In terms of reading material: there is actually an entire book out there called 'Wandlore' by Alferian Gwydion MacLir. This has a lot of interesting technical information, but be advised it does something I consider to be unbearably stupid and twee, which is talking about putting dragon / phoenix / other mythical creature bits into it 'astrally'. I am a staunch member of the Anti-Harry-Potter Action League (READ ANOTHER BOOK) and consider this to be indescribably dumb and absolute claptrap. Anyone selling wands that have 'dragon heartstring' etc should be avoided, full stop.

I'm sure I've missed something, so if you or anyone else have any follow-up questions, feel free to ask.

[fallingoverharrypotter]

If We Make It Through January 7th

Draco and Harry on the wrong side of the holiday season, making the gloom a little bit brighter. Also on AO3 here.

I’m barely through the front door of the place before I catch a glimpse of the man behind the counter and freeze up. Right there in the doorway.

A frustrated cough comes from behind me, and I hear a rude “excuse me.”

I swear. “Sorry,” I move out of their way, back onto the icy cobblestones: the patron flicks me an insincere smile as they hurry into the warmth of the bakery, and the door shuts in my face with a clang. The noise of the store, regular café sounds and music with it. That’s unfortunate, as Diagon still has Christmas jingles incessantly twinkling across the cold brick back and forth down the alley on this side of the new year, and that’s… only one part of the reason I want to enter.

Surely there are other places on Diagon that sell hot drinks and buns this late on a Wednesday. But… I know there aren’t. Even in muggle London.

Going home empty handed on Monday was one thing, but going home empty handed on Wednesday seems out of the question.

The cheerful drawings of smiling faces and steaming pastries on the glass are mocking me - there’s raucous noise of laughter just from the other side of the windows. I’m drawn up close and shivering in my winter robe, and it’s so cold that the warming charms keep wearing off. There are the sludgy remnants of snow on the cobbles, and I had to save myself from a couple of falls on the way down here. The blush on my cheeks is definitely from the embarrassment of the wobbles, but thankfully it’ll be passed off as the bite of the air. He probably won’t realise a difference anyway.

I take a deep breath, and go to reach for the door again, but then my hand stops, barely within my control. I close my eyes and try once more. Breathe deep, hand out to grasp the handle. I pretend not to think about whether any patrons of the bakery are staring at me through the glass. I hypothesise that if this takes me longer than five minutes, I’ll get an Auror called on me for drunk and disorderly, and wouldn’t that truly make my day.

Suddenly, it’s too much. I don’t even want to see his face. Wednesday pastries will just have to go without. It’s a silly tradition anyway. Surely if I’m ever allowed to forgo a habit, it would be as a new year’s resolution. It was his neurotic practice anyway. Probably one of those things I should toss out like I did all the rest of his stuff.

I take another deep breath and point my chin up, stare challengingly at one stupid smiling figure on the glass, and turn to make my way down to the other apparition point at the end of Diagon.

Stupid ex-boyfriends and stupid bleeding-heart holiday seasons. I manage to keep my feet reasonably stable as I walk down the almost icy path on this darker end of the street.

Unfortunately for me, however, a loud noise startles me and I completely wipe out.

A loud grunt expels itself from my chest as my back hits the ground. Thankfully my neck and head seem to be pretty well protected by the thick green scarf I’ve got wrapping me up, but my ass doesn’t fair all that well. “Fucking hell,” I mutter, and groan as I roll over onto my side. I wince when a sharp twinge in my back is set off with my movement.

Thankfully I’m not alone in my predicament, because the noise that startled me was an initial slick sharp sound of a slip against the icy cobbles. I tilt my head up and see heavy black boots, worn just slightly at the sole, and the figure of their owner, a man in amongst a mountain of sludgy snow that someone had just moved to the side instead of vanishing. I mutter to myself about the absolute travesty which is Diagon without proper foot traffic. People here get bloody careless this time of year.

I push myself up by my gloved hands, now soaked, along with the backside of my cloak. “Are you alright?” I half-heartedly direct to the man who I can hear angrily muttering to himself in his current position. I have to pay direct attention to getting my feet under me so that I don’t make another trip, but I do finally stabilise myself. I sigh crossly. My penance for getting so startled is that I don’t immediately get to grab my wand and dry myself off.

The man sighs too. His reply is muffled, but I think I can make out a “yep”. Charming.

He’s not moving though, so I huff out a breath impatiently and wander over to where he lies carelessly under an awning, face shadowed from Diagon’s twinkling lights. Good King Wenceslas chimes out of the charms on the street, and seems to mock me, and I have to force myself to think of how best to rectify this. I hope this guy isn’t drunk. Or maybe I hope he is, so that I can just call the aurors to deal with this.

“Are you pissed?” I ask, just to know.

“I wish.” Is his muffled reply. “Would be a bit less embarrassing if I were, I think.”

I roll my eyes. “Can you get up?”

“Yep.” He repeats, and then groans again as he pulls himself out of the soaking wet, dirty grey cushion, that is the snow bank.

My mouth drops open. “Potter?”

And, yep indeed. It’s Potter. He’s leaning back on gloved hands when he looks up at me quickly and then he groans. Throws his wet haired head back, and those green eyes look up at the awning like he’s berating whatever trickster god pulls his strings of fate. Or, so I assume.

He leans his weight on a single hand and stretches out the other in my direction.

For a second, I think he’s extended it so we can shake hands, before I realise that he just wants a hand up. I flush and hasten – carefully – over. A quick pull from my hand and he does the rest of the work, but he has to grab at my shoulders when he’s upright, a little wobbly.

He looks at me and grimaces. “I’m a danger to myself and others.” His hands release my shoulders, but only, it seems, to brush off bits of snow and dirt off of my coat.

I huff, my breath making a cloud of vapour in the space between us. “Well, I won’t disagree with you on that. Do you need me to go and get someone for you, or can you make your merry way to your reserved bed at Mungos?”

He laughs just a little. “It’s always a pleasure, Draco, honestly.” He’s joking, so I reserve the right to kick him until later. Maybe when he’s a bit less pathetic from the slip. “Are you okay?”

I scowl, and don’t answer his question. “It’s bloody 6pm on a Wednesday. In the middle of winter. After a snow storm. Who’s honestly buying wands this time of year?”

He smiles, winks slightly. “Gotta be made, don’t they?”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, I get it. You’re chained to your desk. A snowstorm fit for the arctic circle could blaze through here and you couldn’t be moved.”

He laughs. Harry laughs the same way he’s always laughed, and I blush just a little bit, as I’ve always done. I feel a shiver start to come upon me, but I keep it away by share force of will as he continues. “The new year is good for the thestral tail hair.” A dirty glove subconsciously comes up to rub at his wet hair, and he grimaces when he feels it. “Decay, new life, you know. The Death-horses and Winter going hand in hand.”

I smirk as he tentatively tries to rub his dirty glove off against a cleaner part of his cloak. “Cruel of them. Not taking the time to consider your plight.”

“Well,” he challenges, “I doubt it’s a major concern. It’s actually not every day that I slip and fall on the pavement. I survive my walks, mostly.”

“Well,” I answer, “I never slip or fall.” I raise a haughty eyebrow at him, and I can see the humour dust his eyes a little bit more. “Don’t go blaming me for this.”

He rolls his eyes and grimaces. “Why are we still so wet.” He flicks his hand and a wave of annoyingly familiar magic crests itself over my figure until the dirt and the moisture are driven right away. I flick a warming charm over him in thanks.

He seems to pay a bit more attention to his surroundings now that he’s dry and warm. “You just come from Finch-Fletchley’s? You mind reminding him that if the other shops are closed down for the holidays that it’s his job to vanish the snow after a blanketing?”

I avert my eyes, drawn to the bright lights of the bakery. I scowl. “You can tell him yourself, thank you very much.” I take a deep breath, and straighten my back. Keeping some decorum, hopefully. “We’ve broken up.”

Potter’s eyebrows are up when I glance quickly back to his face. He looks at me, and his face is very controlled. He looks at the bakery. “When?”

I swallow. “Week before Christmas, if you can believe.”

He can’t seem to stop himself from whistling sympathetically. Then he winces. “Sorry.”

I shrug, casually. “No matter.”

He snorts.

“I’m serious” I say, pointlessly.

He crosses his arms and looks hard at me. “Oh yeah? What are you doing here, then? Surely not too many muggleborns turning 11 around this time of year.”

Not to back down, and turn to face him properly and cross my own arms. “You know full well that’s not all I do, Potter.”

He rolls his eyes. “Like my point doesn’t still stand. What? You doing a lot of muggleborn house calls the week after new year’s?”

“Not every muggleborn celebrates Christmas and New Year’s.”

“Sure, technically. In reality, though?”

I turn away, and don’t answer his questions. He snorts, but then steps a little closer. We’re facing the bakery, because of course we are. O’ Holy Night plays above us. I wonder who chooses these songs.

I hear him take a deep breath in and out. “I really am sorry.”

I sigh, too. “It’s really not a big deal.”

“It’s only been two weeks, Draco.”

Two weeks and 5 days. If we’re counting. I don’t say this though.

He bumps my shoulder. “Not to pick at the wound, but what areyou really doing here.”

I consider lying to him again, but we’re not really in the business of doing that. It’d just be a bore. And he’s always been… good about things like this. “Christmas.” I swallow. “It gets lonely, you know.”

He hums.

I kick out at the ground with my foot and it slides a little bit too far, and I end up having to take a step forward to balance myself again – Potter grabs at my arm.

He laughs, a little anxiously. “Never slip and fall, huh?”

I ignore that, my face flushed and hot. “We had a tradition. Wednesday pastries at the bakery. I would assume it’s common decency to let someone know in advance if you’re going to break up with them. So that one can plan for these moments, right?” I close my eyes against the lights of Justin’s bakery, feeling unwelcome. “I apologise. I’m morose. It’s not exactly the post-holiday cheer I’m sure you want on a nice evening.”

He chuckles. “I wouldn’t call this a nice evening.” My warming charm wears off, and he flicks his wrist for another one to settle over us. He lets go of my upper arm, and puts a hand on my shoulder – drags me around a bit to face him. “Fuck him, right?”

I roll my eyes. “He’s not a bad guy, Potter.”

He rolls his eyes right back, and then looks quite serious. “Be a little indulgent with yourself sometimes, Draco.”

I look back at him. He’s only just shorter than me, and I’ve always cherished that fact, but now he almost seems to be towering over me, even with a bit of a slouch to his stand. His messy hair and his shadowed cheeks and under-eyes the likes of which I only really see during the summer break when I’m chaperoning muggle families and their muggleborn children to get their first wands before September. Working too hard. Chained to his desk.

“Do you want to have dinner with me?” I blurt out.

His eyes widen. So do mine. The heat in my face expands to a blaze, and I groan as I drop it into my cold gloves. “Merlin, I’m sorry. You just said the indulgent thing, and I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Hey, it’s fine.” He grabs at my wrists lightly and tugs a bit, but I don’t budge. “Draco.”

A clang mutely sounds from just up the street, the usual echo of the door in the cobbled street trapped by the snow. “Draco?” I hear, and look up. Startle, because that’s definitely Justin at the door, surrounded in the glow of the lighting. I take a step back almost without thought, and Harry’s grip on my wrist unfortunately makes me lose my balance. I go right down, and he follows. Right on top of me.

I groan loudly, my head and back and arse all once again wet and cold. Harry groans too, and his warm weight gets off me very quickly, tugging me up by my hands, and then a hand tight on my waist to right me. I don’t step out of his grip immediately, too overcome with the situation. Ready to take another crack at the cobbles and see if this time I brain myself.

“Hell, Draco,” Harry mutters, and then grabs his wand to get the wet and the dirt off the both of us again. Another of his beautiful warming charms settles over my body. “We’re even now, okay? No more falls, for god’s sake.”

Justin has wandered a bit closer by the time I look away from Harry’s face, a little consternated. “Draco? Are you okay? Merlin, what are you doing standing out here?”

I don’t respond. Harry coughs. “That’ll be me. I basically tripped him earlier, and we got talking.”

Justin’s eyes widen just a little, and he looks at Draco in concern. “In this weather? It’s freezing! I’ll grab you mug of spice cider, alright?”

“No,” I say, finally finding my bloody voice again. “No, I’m fine. And anyway.” I shoot a glance at Harry. “We’re tied one-for-one.” Harry smirks.

Justin continues when I look back to him. “Dray, come on. A cup of cider, a bite to eat.”

I shake my head, wanting this day to be done with already. “I’ve got plans.”

Justin eyes get just a little softer. “Come on, please?”

“He does. Have plans.” Potter says, and my neck twinges with how fast I turn to look at him. “We’re going to dinner.”

Justin goggles, just a little, looks between Harry and me. There’s a certain part of me – a different part to the one that’s processing whether or not Harry means what he said about dinner – that’s a little vindictively pleased about Justin’s reaction. “Oh!” Justin says. “Okay, no… No worries!” He meets my eyes, and I flush. “It was good to see you. Please, do come around. The staff miss you, you know.”

I smile politely. “Thanks, Justin.” I stand a little taller, and nod to him. “Take care.”

“You too.” And he grins kindly, lifting a hand to Harry and me, before hastening back into the warm sanctuary of his bakery. The door does its little muted clang again as it closes. My mouth – still sitting in a polite smile – relaxes, leaving a little pain in my cheeks.

Harry hums. “Do you ever think that we’re all a bit toomature now?”

Surprisingly, I laugh loudly at that. I’m nodding even before I get the words out. “Yes. I’d almost wish to be fifteen again and have a real proper tantrum about this.” I sigh, laugh a little again. “But, you know. Fifteen-year-old me? Good riddance.”

“I don’t know…” Harry trails off, “there were some redeeming qualities. He was certainly a creative sort.”

I goggle at him, and immediately stop when I realise that I’m imitating Justin to some extent. “Stop having me on.”

Harry… laughs. “Yeah, I’m having you on. You were a right bastard.”

I shake my head, and turn away from the lights of the bakery, and start walking. He’ll surely catch up.

“I was serious.” Harry says, and I turn my head a little to let him know I’m listening as I walk. “About dinner.”

“I assumed so,” even though that’s a bit of a lie.

“And,” Harry catches up. “I mean ‘dinner’ as in. A date.”

I’m not proud of this, but I slip. Just a little. “Fuck,” I say as I try to catch myself. Thank goodness that Potter’s a bit more onto it, though. He just grabs my arm, and an arm around my back. Straightens me up.

“Bloody hell, I should have talked to him about the snow vanishing,” Harry’s saying as I brush off my cloak to hide my flush. “It’s all the Diagon Business Association talks about during winter, I don’t know what he’s on-”

“Harry.”

He stops and looks at me. Christmas music is still playing, and its still grating, but goodness the lights work well on his complexion. And his eyes.

I smile, just a little. “We’ve got dinner plans, I thought? We could talk about this there, surely?”

He laughs.

[peachbabypie]

Part II: Forest

The sequel no one asked for :) Draco finds Harry wandering around the forest at night in search of fallen unicorn hair and Draco disapproves of this shaggy human he absolutely does not have a crush on wandering around his woodlands just asking to be attacked by a rouge werewolf.

[invictusarcana]

Zodiac Wands ♎️♑️♋️♊️

Available at Auction on Instagram @waywardwitchauctions

Was feeling creative and put these together 🤗 I have a few new designs I am finishing for custom orders, I’ll be sharing those here and in the Patreon ✨

[thecarvingwitch]

Want an awesome hand carved wand? Buy a fuckin wand from the little wood cottage today! https://www.etsy.com/shop/Thelittlewoodcottage?ref=seller-platform-mcnav