"You're taking this much better than I had anticipated. You might be the first muggle-born I'm visiting on behalf of the school, but I was told this would go much different," a blonde bombshell with her hair up in a ponytail and bright blue robes said as she watched the boy in front of her with a scrutinizing look. "The lady running this joint even told me your name was Tim, yet you didn't ask why your letter said Talion?"
Talion, unaccustomed to seeing such a pretty woman in the run-down orphanage he was more or less chained to because of resignation, indecision and isolation, could barely force his eyes away from all the pretty features the professor in front of him put on display. He didn't remember any descriptions about her in the book, but the woman looking to be in her late twenties in front of him could easily become a celebrity just with looks alone.
"Well, Professor Babbling, the thing about magic... I learned I was special early on when weird things happened when I was agitated. Chances that I was the only one in the whole wide world able to do it felt even lower than being born with superpowers like in the comics one of the older children brought back once," Talion calmly explained, trying everything in his power to feed his answer with as many half-truths and omissions that would allow him to stop himself from outright lying to the professor's face. "Moving things with thought alone, shielding a kid from harms way or vanishing a bully's hair... it was too versatile to be a singular power, so 'magic' was among my top choices of answers."
Patrick, his now trusted house elf, had told him that many scholarly wizards were adept at the very basics of the mind arts and that training in Occlumency, the shielding aspect, and Legilimency, the offensive aspect, would both allow a magical to gain powers close to a lie detector.
Legilimency was easily explainable in this regard, but training control of your emotions as an Occlumens apparently allowed magicals to become a sort of empath to those uninitiated in the mind arts. Kind of like grifters and con artists read people easily because of years of experience, just turned up to eleven because of the magical aspect of it all.
"And as for my name, I once heard the matron utter how uncouth a name Talion was and that I was better served with a respectable Christian name in this society," the young boy explained, this time telling the truth. "I have since learned that it likely comes from the latin word 'talionis', meaning retaliation or vengeance... so I'm guessing that drove her to rename me?"
"Definitely the makings of a Ravenclaw," the blonde woman replied with a slight shake of her head.
Fearing that she was sent here by Dumbledore with an agenda, Talion had to play the part of a clueless child until the very end.
"Ravenclaw, miss?"
"Ah, one of the four houses of Hogwarts along with Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Those sorted into a house share many things like dormitories and classes among year mates," the ancient runes professor explained with a slight tilt of her head, though otherwise betraying no inkling that she figured out that Talion knew more than he reasonably should.
As the professor explained a few more things upon getting peppered with questions by Talion, the two moved toward the Leaky Cauldron with the help of the purple monstrosity called the Knight Bus. Despite being mentally prepared, Talion left the bus with shaky knees, though he was satisfied to see that even the professor was more shaken than she let on.
Their first target in Diagon Alley was Gringotts, the goblin-run wizarding bank. In there, the two claimed rightfully that he should be able to inherit the month-long dormant Macnair family vault. The master key was summoned back by the goblin teller and reforged with a few drops of Talion's blood.
The boy did not know how Professor Babbling knew his circumstances and those of his family, and he feared what would have happened during the reforging had he been an impostor and his blood wasn't recognized by the master key. The nasty grin of this so-called Goregrin certainly didn't reassure Talion in that regard.
"May I know more about my family's assets?" Talion asked as Goregrin led them toward the cart that would take them to the vault 688, the Macnair family vault, in the depths of the goblin bank.
"Sure. Your family was too poor to have a general manager, and I took the ledger with me in case you asked. Your vault contains 8.947 galleons, 321 sickles, and 102 knuts," the goblin started to leisurely explain as they shot downward in the rollercoaster cart that would take them to his vault. "Your family has no outstanding debts, neither owing or receiving, one plot in Knockturn Alley rented out to a brothel run by some rather unsavory folk, and the deeds to a magical home in Glasgow. Nothing else is managed by Gringotts for the Macnairs."
'Huh, the sum of sickles and knuts is quite low, I'll have to assume they convert them to the next higher currency once they reach a certain amount in the vault? And did he just say I freaking own a brothel? No, wait, the family rents it out to someone who runs a brothel... do I even want to know?'
The goblin leading them showed no remorse in openly mocking him for his 'poor' family or gave any indications of what he thought about the brothel, but the purchasing power of almost ten thousand galleons was more than enough to give him a cushy headstart in life during and after his magical education - so Talion didn't mind the mockery too much. He was feeling a little petty, though, after the goblin more or less spit on his family.
"What about artifacts stored in the vault?"
"We goblins care little for all the rubbish your kind hoards. There should be a few piles of trash towering in your vault, but there's no manifest."
Talion pondered shortly before finding a hole in the story, "So I'd never find out if something was stolen then?"
Goregrin gave him a nasty glance that told him just how stupid the goblin thought he was before saying, "Walden Macnair didn't pay for such services. So yes, even if someone somehow stole your precious garbage, you could never make a claim with us."
"Huh, no one ever managed to break into Gringotts? And that's why people like Walden don't pay for this service?" Talion innocently asked, knowing full-well that if canon was intact despite it being three years later, Quirrelmort broke into the vault that used to hold the Philosopher's Stone mere two days ago.
And the scowl on the goblin's face told him just how correct he was in his assumption, though Goregrin admitted nothing.
Once inside his family vault, Talion touched nothing as he roamed around at the entrance of a room about as big as an average three bedroom apartment. For some reason, Professor Babbling knew no boundaries and started inspecting all the likely dark knick-knacks stored in various wardrobes, shelves, and cupboards. His paranoia of her being an agent sent by Dumbledore was slightly waning this past hour, but her just taking stock of all this vault held with no regards for his presence kind of rubbed him the wrong way. The paranoia at the back of his head was raging once more.
Still, Talion showed nothing in case this was some kind of test. Instead, he enlisted her help in finding stuff he could safely take that would help him in his education.
The first thing they selected was a magically extended suitcase that was slightly smaller than the trunks he had seen while walking down Diagon Alley.
It was by no means anywhere close as impressive as Newt Scamander's briefcase in the 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' movies, but it could hold roughly three bathtubs worth of items. And it came with a lucky find: some of his mother's old Hogwarts stuff.
There were a few Hogwarts robes that Babbling quickly identified as a witch's, several books with many annotations for the later courses at N.E.W.T. level, notebooks for every single subject she took dating back to her first year, a magnificent ancient-looking telescope with many golden accents that screamed expensive, and delicate writing utensils that the runes professor praised as high-quality products.
Additionally, Talion took only two other things from among the 'piles of garbage' as Goregrin so elegantly put. Something Babbling identified as a decent dueler's quick-access wand holster and a featherlight enchanted moleskin pouch with a bigger space inside that he would now use for the gold for his purchases and later on for carrying his books and supplies in school.
One finely crafted dagger or rather short-blade caught his attention because the box it laid in looked much older than anything in this vault. The blade was lightly drooping and got a little thicker in the middle while the pommel of the weapon wrapped back up toward the edge to give the wielder a sort of guard for the hand. Unprompted, the goblin told him the name of this style of blade was Kopis, mostly used in Ancient Greece but favored by a few vikings who managed to amass enough iron to forge more than just an axe head but less than needed for a broadsword.
On the blade itself was one particular 'rune' he would later find in many of his mother's notes as little doodles, but his research on this rune looking like a stylized capital A with a rounded bottom would have to wait until later.
On their way up, Talion couldn't help himself in getting one more dig in because of Goregrin showing such open disdain for him.
"What kind of name is Goregrin anyway? Your parents must be really cruel," Talion asked with a shallow smirk as he endured the ride.
The goblin in kind only smirked and scoffed out, "You know nothing about our noble culture, wizard."
"Ah, are you saying your real name is something else, entirely unpronounceable to those not able to speak Gobbledegook?"
The slight widening of the goblin's eyes was all that Talion needed in confirmation. Those names were all horseshit. No way there were goblins of old with names like Ragnok, Ug, Bogrod, or even just the more recent 'Filius', the resident half-goblin charms professor at Hogwarts, when some goblins at Gringotts had to sport names like Goregrin or Bloodclaw or some other idiotic thing clearly meant to annoy or intimidate.
"Definitely a Ravenclaw," Babbling muttered with an amused smile as she watched that short conversation that ended in Goregrin not saying anything else anymore.
'Would it be rude to ask Professor Flitwick which parent of his named him?' Talion meanwhile asked himself as he made casual small talk with the runes professor. 'Female goblins are either much more pleasing to the eye, and his dad got really drunk, or his human parent is a freak - sorry in advance, Professor.'
The goblin was keen to just ignore the bothersome boy and escorted the two magicals out of the building.
Their first stop once outside was Madam Malkin's Robes. The name of the shop was much longer and needlessly descriptive, but everyone just called it those three words for a name. The professor insisted that this was the only shop offering high-quality products for Hogwarts shoppers and dragged him here for convenience and cutting down his later waiting time.
"Ah, hello dear," the plump witch who owned the shop greeted as the two stepped into the otherwise empty store. It was still rather early in the day. "Are you here for your Hogwarts robes?"
"You're right, I am. Can you tell me about my options? If possible, I'd like my robes charmed, but I don't know much about it," Talion easily inquired as Malkin led him to be violated by a tape measurer but not before he properly introduced himself to not be considered rude.
"I only know I don't need really expensive silk or something like that. I'd rather go for comfort," Talion eventually spoke out as Madam Malkin finished presenting him his options on a large rack.
"Ah, silk like Acromantula Silk holds charms especially well, so your options are a little limited and I cannot promise the charms holding for your entire education," the magical seamstress seemlessly explained as she took note of what her instruments of abuse marked down as being Talion's dimensions.
"Hmm, that's okay, I think. I'll likely still hit another growth spurt anyway, and I'd rather invest my money in quality clothing then, when I'm not forced to wear a non-descript black bag as clothes," Talion countered, earning him a small giggle from Madam Malkin.
Eventually, the two settled on a magical sort of wool from a particular ram species native to Scotland that was below the quality of silk but particularly comfortable and better than regular wool. And they settled on two charms for his robes.
One for permanent freshness, masking any possible stink of sweat he might accumulate over the day, and temperature regulation. The latter was powerful enough to help him out for a few minutes outside during a blizzard but wouldn't hold for a long period of time, and it would also shield him from extreme heat like a sauna but it couldn't hold off magical fires or things like that.
Talion also splurged a little and ordered a bunch of comfortable shirts, underwear, and trousers because the ones he still had from the orphanage were anything but comfortable.
During all of that, the professor browsed the shop's dress-robes for witches and even bought two that would get sent to her residence by owl later in the week, while the two would come back later to pick up his order after they were done with their shopping.
As they left the shop, Madam Malkin kindly reminded Talion to get sorted into Ravenclaw, his eyes were the perfect color with their deep blue color and those bronze specks just like the house colors of the house of the 'witty and smart'.
Since Talion didn't want a magical pet despite briefly thinking about Crookshanks and its hunting instincts for animagi, they skipped any magical creature shops and concluded shopping for all of his educational needs before stopping at Ollivander's.
Talion was made to go in alone, getting told that gaining a wand was a deeply personal event, which stumped the boy a bit. Babbling had just spent an entire day picking out what kind of dress shirts he should order and rummaging around in his family vault - how was this more personal? Or was this just a ploy because Ollivander would tell Dumbledore everything anyway?
'Calm down your paranoia, not everyone is out to get you,' Talion told himself as he braced himself for a surprise attack from Garrick Ollivander jumping out from nowhere as he walked toward the counter of the shop.
Coincidentally, that classic jumpscare didn't happen as Garrick was contemplating something while visibly staring at a certain empty spot on a shelf in his shop.
"Ah, hello, hello," the old man greeted when Talion got his attention. "Here for your first wand, mister...?"
"Hello, Mister Ollivander, indeed I am," Talion greeted politely while looking around the dingy old shop. "My name is Talion Macnair."
"Ah, any relations to the late Walden or Selena Macnair?" The wandmaker pried without really coming off as a nosy git despite his pushy wording. If Talion's knowledge about this world held true, the aged wizard likely wanted to show off his memory by telling him about his relative's wand.
"Selena, my mother, according to the matron," Talion answered with a fond smile to show the man he was capable of positive feelings if he did indeed go telling on him to Dumbledore. And the feelings weren't faked either. He respected his mother and felt grateful for the gift of life she had given him.
"Ah, ten inches on the dot. Made of maple with a dragon heartstring, I remember it well. I hadn't known she had a son," Ollivander instantly described his mother's wand with an eager smile before continuing his whole explanation on how a wand chooses the wizard like he did with Harry in the books. Talion merely narrowed his eyes at the off-handedly mentioned information about his mother.
"What's your wand arm then, lad?" The old man asked as he curiously regarded the many shelves with long boxes holding the wands stacked upon them.
"You mean my dominant hand? In that case, I am ambidextrous," Talion explained with a grin only he knew was forced.
He was born clearly left-handed, but the matron of the orphanage who taught the orphans how to read and write called being left-handed as the work of the devil and all who write with their left hands were devil-worshipping, evil heathens. Why anyone would think that the devil, should he be real, was bored enough to make everyone evil based on the hand they prefer when doing things like writing was absolutely ludicrous to Talion, but he wouldn't waste his breath on the old crone any more than he already had.
The forced training did result in him being able to write with both hands, and the boy thought it better to see this end result as a boon instead of something to be punished. His life at the orphanage was as good as over with his Hogwarts attendance - unless, of course, Dumbledore had other plans for him.
"Oho, those are rare," Ollivander praised as he gave Talion a quick look up and down before bringing the first few boxes for him to try.
Wands with phoenix cores were by far the rarest among the choices because of how small the global phoenix population is compared to unicorns and dragons, so Talion was only able to try two of them that did not choose him in the end. The wands felt like dead bricks in his hands.
The fated wand of Harry Potter that was the brother-wand of the one that gave the two boys their scars should have already been taken anyway two days ago, so the plot armor of getting a Priori Incantatem to happen during a duel with Voldemort was out of the question.
A few peculiar wand woods were quickly dismissed before the wandmaker handed Talion the thirteenth wand that instantly felt completely different to the young wizard.
Eager to have found his match despite doing so on the unlucky thirteenth try, Ollivander quickly explained what the boy held in his hand.
"One of my father's last works as he was going on in years. Make no mistake, the craftsmanship is at its pinnacle," the old man started. "Rosewood, a kind of wand wood I personally use very little, and unicorn tail hair at exactly ten inches, just like your mother's. It's rather bendy as rosewood wands tend to be, and once you fully gain this wand's allegiance, it should serve you for a long time. Unicorn hair is known to be a core material that favors no particular branch of magic, though doing slightly worse with the darker ones initially - yet this is offset by the combination with the rosewood. Prickly as roses are, rosewood wands are known for fierce protection and quick retaliation and work well with warding or cursing... just like your name. Ah, a truly fitting combination."
Talion intently listened to the full explanation, trying to unearth his future strength and weaknesses as best he could. For the vague plans he already had, the characteristics would serve him well in the coming years.