The Tale of the Black Knight: The Mark

Just One Other

While Hagrid, (the Giant her guardian strangely trusted so much, it would seem. It would be quite a story to hear later on) awaited just outside the shop as she cautiously stepped inside the overly quiet place, with the coin purse in hand. It was a tiny, old... dusty little shop that was piled up to the ceilings with a seemingly endless amount of long boxes, all deemed with a number or name on them as if they were library books. Suddenly being thrown into such quiet, Rosie felt just a little awkward. She wasn't sure if anyone was here or... if she even stepped into the correct establishment.

Of course, something within her could tell that someone was about in here, somewhere. Being able to tell if another mind was near, it was easy to do on the fly. She had to stop herself as she stepped inside.

Something rolled on rickety wheels, and to her surprise, someone happened to be in one of the tall rows. Giving a jump, she locked her gaze on a strange man who seemed to gleam at her from the side of a rolling ladder. During that moment, the lass gave a sudden squeak at the surprise, but it was a bit of a relief to know that she wasn't the only one here.

This was an old little man, who seemed to be just as ancient and dusty as the shop itself. As this moment drew on, the dusty haired tabby happened by and peered through the window for a moment.

"Here, here now," began to frail man with a smile as wide as a Cheshire Cat's. "I was wondering when I would be finally seeing you, my dear."

Rosie felt a little unsettled at those words.

"... do you know me, sir?" she asked, feeling brave.

"It is not the matter of knowing every face who enters, but it is a tender thought, knowing that he would eventually bring you here, despite circumstances."

"You.. you mean my Sire? Do you know him?"

"Indeed!" the Shopkeeper, Ollivander began to browse through the next row of endless boxes. "I remember the day when he came in here to buy his first wand. As did your parents, for theirs."

Rosie silenced herself for a moment as the stranger searched, wrapping her mind around the possibility that the world was smaller than she thought. Even in a world as wondrous to behold as this... It was a little unnerving that people knew her more than she did herself, apparently. It was a little too much to take in. Unaware of the eavesdropper, Rosie did herself the favor of countering what the old man said.

"Begging your pardon, sir? I am rather new here and this place, in general, but how long have you been here?" she asked.

"You would be fairly surprised, dear one. Many have come and gone as I appear to linger. You will find many surprises and frights while on your way~ Ah!" he stopped midsentence as one box, in particular, had stolen his attention. "Dragon heartstring, birch," he muttered while coming towards the front desk. With a shaky wrinkled hand, he handed her a long wooden piece that was almost a milky white. Curious, she took it.

What on earth did he mean by... Dragon Heartstring...? During her wandering, his voice shocked her back to earth.

"Well? Give it a wave!"

She jumped and did so, a little too softly she thought. Something broke loose as she did so, sending a flock of boxes come barrelling down in unison, almost hard enough to knock the ladder sideways. In shock at this, she dropped the wand and scrambled to pick up.

"Sorry, sorry!" she panicked, but the man was shockingly passive.

"Hmm..." he hummed before retreating to the aisle again, in search for another.

Shaky, Rosie put the birch one back onto the desk before he brought another one. This was deep brown, slightly askew with a neat wood pattern that reminded her of Spinner's End a little bit. Just like before, she waved it, with a little more movement this time. A vase went flying to nowhere in particular, flinging to one side of the shop, crashing into a set of books.

"No, no no! Definitely not!"

"... He's not going to let me live this down," she uttered to herself, as she stood wide-eyed at the crooked wand. Again, this storekeeper just studied her closely for a second. A good, elongated stare before he slowly retreated into the aisle once more.

"I wonder..." his crackly old voice drew on, as quiet as the wind.

Rosie only tried to peer over to see what he was doing, but after an annoyingly long moment, he finally returned to where she stood. He took another one out of a box and slowly, in the shaking hand, he gave her a certain wand as if it was made of glass. Confused, she carefully took it. The moment her fingers surrounded and gripped the wood, she felt something, like an energy flow through her. A rush of air flew about her, as if calling her... For a moment, feeling slightly afraid, she was almost tempted to place it back. Yet, for some strange reason, she found that she did not even want to give it back.

"Curious. Very... curious." the old man finally spoke, eerily, at least to her it sounded so.

She blinked, not feeling very fond of those words.

"Pardon, sir...?"

"The wand chooses the witch or wizard. It is only curious to me, dear child, that the Phoenix feather that resides in this wand, gave another. Just one other. If I am not mistaken, my dear, that other feather given resides in the one wand that bestowed upon you a deadly mark."

Rosie's heart made a leap, naturally clutching her right arm for a moment. "I... then... it must not be the right one for me..." she stated, proceeding to put it back down. She knew the truth of her parents and why she had this mark, to begin with. Ollivander on the other hand, gently stopped her, sighting the distress in the girl.

"Oh, come now, come now, it is not what you may believe."

"Then... who owned that wand?" she shakily asked.

"Oh, we do not speak his name. But heed these words, my dear, we can expect great things from you. What you must know now, is what you will choose along your path will play a crucial part." he wisely stated, warm. "For I can tell, that you hold something powerful, even more powerful than his own. Both of you have."

"Both of us...?" Rosie was completely caught off guard by those words. He did not just mean she and Prince, did he? She swallowed, deeply, looking at the wand again. There was something deeply drawing about it and once again, she took it in hand.

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was among many who did great things. TERRIBLE. But great. He had taken a ghastly path, the one your Sire nearly took in his youth."

Hagrid soon came round, with something special in mind, to serve as a birthday gift. There was this one owl at the window. A small burrowing one who wished very much to be free of his cage. This little one seemed to fit right for the girl's likeness. Spry and wide-eyed to the world about him. Among one the things listed, this would make her Hogwarts years very interesting, to say the least. The little one was so giddy about being taken out of the shop that he started fluttering about his cage. It was something Rosie least expected after she came out of Ollivander's after purchasing her wand, the haunting conversation still echoing in her mind.

Her face lit right up when she saw the tiny owl, her green eyes sparkling.

"Oh!" she cooed when the little burrower playfully nibbled at her fingers through the bars. "It's so cute~"

"He be yours, lass!"

"... huh?"

"A little gift from me t'you, happy birthday, lassie..." Hagrid warmly stated as she interacted with the little bird. "Thar ye go~"

"Hi, little guy~" she sweetly greeted the excited owl. "He's so peppy, Hagrid!" she smiled with thanks to him. "I think... I think I'll name him Felix."

"Felix, aye? Why that's a fine one for 'im!"

"You think? He reminds me of one of Prince's potions I read about..." Rosie mentioned. "A little lucky one, aren't you, Felix?"