Cassian turned his head at the sound of disdain, only to find a blond boy with cold grey eyes glaring at him from the doorway.
"I'm just reminding you not to forget who you are," the boy sneered. "Associating with mudbloods tarnishes our pure-blood honor."
Draco Malfoy, clearly.
Cassian raised a brow, his expression impassive.
Draco, clearly eager to show off, drew his wand. He had likely just purchased it and was itching to try it out. Like many pure-blood children, he had probably been taught a few basic spells and dueling postures by his parents.
Cassian, however, merely shifted the wand Ollivander had offered him. In a blink, Draco was hurled backwards out the door, as if an invisible force had struck him square in the chest. He crashed onto the cobblestones outside the shop with a loud grunt.
The shop fell into stunned silence.
Cassandra, wide-eyed beside Cassian, glanced between him and the now-absent Draco with something between awe and curiosity.
About ten seconds later, the door was thrown open again. A pale, sharp-faced man with long blond hair swept into the shop, dragging a dazed Draco behind him. His cold grey eyes scanned the room like knives.
"Who hurt my son? Step forward this instant!"
Cassian met his gaze calmly. "Lucius, your son called me a mudblood. I taught him a lesson. Do you want one too?"
Lucius Malfoy paled. His expression twisted into something unreadable—anger, fear, perhaps disbelief. Even Cassandra and Ollivander shifted uneasily at the mention of Cassian's name. They had clearly heard the rumors.
"You… you're him? Shouldn't you be in Azkaban?!"
Lucius's voice wavered. Cassandra stared at Cassian in shock, and Ollivander froze mid-motion.
"Ludmeath arranged for my release," Cassian replied, folding his arms casually. "I'm to attend Hogwarts."
Lucius's mind raced. Ludmeath—the enigmatic force behind many whispered stories—had intervened for this boy? What in Merlin's name was going on?
"What, Lucius?" Cassian said with a smile devoid of warmth. "Want to play with me too?"
"N-No," Lucius stammered. "My son acted out of ignorance. I ask your forgiveness, Master Drayke. I will discipline him properly. Thank you for showing him mercy."
Then, without hesitation, he struck Draco across the face. The sound echoed.
Cassian watched silently. "No need for thanks," he said. "But I've been robbed blind by the Ministry. If you're so apologetic… perhaps you'd like to make a donation?"
Lucius stiffened.
Cassian shrugged. "I mean, it's only fair. You came to me."
Lucius gritted his teeth. "Very well. As compensation, and in hopes that there will be… no further misunderstandings at Hogwarts."
He reached into his coat and withdrew a heavy pouch of Galleons, tossing it to Cassian with forced civility.
Cassian caught it in one hand and slipped it into the magically expanded pocket sewn into the inside of his robe. "Appreciate it."
Lucius bowed stiffly, then turned and stormed out of the shop with Draco in tow.
Once they were gone, Cassandra broke the silence with a huff. "Hmph. He acts so high and mighty for someone so easily put in his place."
Cassian gave her a sidelong glance. What surprised him wasn't that she wasn't afraid—but that she looked even more intrigued.
Ollivander, on the other hand, looked as though he'd aged ten years.
"I... I must say, Master Drayke," he said with a nervous smile, "that wand must be quite compatible with you. That spell—nonverbal, instantaneous—remarkable. Truly."
Cassian arched a brow. "Oh? Actually, no. That wand didn't reduce my magic expenditure at all."
Ollivander blinked. "You... felt its drain?"
Cassian nodded, tapping the wand once against his palm. A dusty wand box floated from beneath the counter and hovered before him. "Let me try this one."
Ollivander's breath caught.
Chestnut wood. Thestral tail hair core.
He knew this wand well. It had lain untouched for decades, waiting for a master. Chestnut was inquisitive, drawn to those with relentless curiosity, magical insight, and a deep bond with magical creatures. But it was the core that made this wand dangerous.
Thestrals—creatures of death and mystery—were invisible to all but those who had seen death. Their tail hair made for powerful, unpredictable wand cores. The Elder Wand itself was said to contain one.
Such a core required a wizard who had not only witnessed death—but mastered it.
As Cassian opened the box, a hum of dark power swept through the shop. Every wizard present instinctively bowed their heads, a strange compulsion pressing down on them.
Only Cassandra stood tall beside him, chin high, eyes glittering. Unlike the others, she did not bow. She stared at Cassian with something that resembled recognition.
He lifted the wand, and it responded to his touch with a crackle of energy. Magic flared briefly, then settled.
Ollivander shuddered. "That wand… it was waiting for you."
Cassian examined it thoughtfully. "Feels right."
"You must understand," Ollivander said cautiously, "Thestral cores are... volatile. They choose masters of exceptional darkness or control. This wand has never bonded to anyone."
"Well, it has now," Cassian replied simply, slipping the wand into his sleeve.
The oppressive atmosphere in the shop lifted, though tension still lingered.
Cassandra crossed her arms, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "That was impressive," she said.
"Thanks."
"You really were in Azkaban?" she asked, cocking her head.
"Briefly."
"You don't look like someone who should be behind bars."
Cassian smiled wryly. "And yet, there I was."
Her gaze didn't falter. "Well, I'm glad you're out."
The sincerity in her voice caught him slightly off guard. Not many had ever spoken to him like that.
Ollivander cleared his throat, still cautious. "Master Drayke, if there's anything else you need—"
"We're done here," Cassian said. "Let's go, Cassandra."
Cassandra followed without hesitation.
As the door closed behind them, Ollivander exhaled in relief, wiping his brow. He had no doubt—Cassian Drayke would leave a mark on the wizarding world unlike any other. For better or worse.
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