Chapter Text
Dan had been immensely relieved when his letter had finally come. He’d of course known that he was going to Hogwarts, it was obvious, seeing as his entire family was made of wizards, and even he’d shown magic ability. But still, late at night he’d sit in his bed and wonder if he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t magical enough. He’d been too ashamed to admit these fears to his family, as they were all as scathing as any Slytherin could be. And it was obvious where Dan was supposed to end up too, but he wasn’t sure if he was good enough. He wasn’t as cunning as his brothers, wasn’t good at pulling any tricks in the games they played, and he certainly never won. Furthermore, whenever they played games as teams, he was much too worried about his teammate, while everyone else still played as if it was an everyone against everyone game. Dan worried that he’d never be able to get into Slytherin.
He hadn’t mentioned this fear to his family either, as he wasn’t entirely sure that they wouldn’t disown him if he didn’t end up in Slytherin. His whole house was decorated with colors of green and silver. It made Dan shiver uncomfortably, the thought of him ending up in a different house, with different colors.
His family was excited for him when his letter came. His older brother, Adam, had been going to Hogwarts for three years now, and Dan’s eldest brother had already graduated. They all piled around the table while Dan opened his letter, cheering and being happy for him, just as a family should. He’d received many pats on the back, and a kiss on a cheek from his mother.
“Oh, we’ll have to go to Diagon Alley!” she said excitedly, while rubbing her hand on her son’s back. “Got to get you your very own wand!” This, she emphasized, as Dan hadn’t been able to stop talking about it for months now. He just wanted to be able to hold the wand, one that had picked him, out of all the great wizards out there.
When they actually did go to Diagon Alley, Dan hadn’t been too interested in much of anything. He’d been there plenty times before, on trips with his mum and such, but it was fun to see all the new students, a lot of them muggle born, staring around in wonder, touching everything in sight.
“Swear they’re letting in any drop of magical blood these days,” Dan’s father muttered darkly, eyeing a small girl dressed obviously in muggle clothes, holding a wand as if it might explode on her. Dan loved his family, truly, they were the best people he knew, but he didn’t love everything about them. “They should really stick with the more accountable wizards. Ones with veins full of magic.”
Dan sighed, glaring at the ground, but doing nothing else. It wouldn’t do any good to talk to his father about it, plus he’d probably get some look, as if his father was asking if he thought differently. And Dan didn’t want them to guess that he might not be cut out for Slytherin. Standing up for other people, which house’s trait was that? Gryffindor? He could not be sorted to Gryffindor, his family would kill him!
“This way, dear,” his mother said, leading Dan towards the shop he’d been eyeing all his life. Ollivander was nice, if a bit weird and scary, but Dan had no clue what would happen to someone, constantly cooped up, making wands, selling wands. He figured that Ollivander was in the perfectly right state of mind for his occupation.
“Ah, Daniel Howell! I’ve been waiting to see your face around my shop. What do we have, another Slytherin in the making?” The man said, his last question kind of off-hand, as he was already trailing down the aisles, picking out boxes. Wands.
Dan simply laughed in response, but rose to the tips of his toes as the boxes were placed in front of him.
“Any of them speak to you, my boy?” Ollivander asked. “Touch them, get a feel for them. Tell me if one wants you.”
The wand chooses the wizard, everybody knows that, but now Dan was starting to wonder if that was all utter crap. What if none of these wands spoke to him?
Still, Dan reached out a hand, touching the first wand on the left. It was dark, probably made of hawthorn, and he knew his family would approve of that wand for him. His mother smiled at him as he touched it, but it said nothing to him, so he moved on.
He trailed his fingers down the line of wands, guessing their wood types as he went. Blackthorn. Ivory. Yew. Plenty of them he was sure his family would approve of, would look at and say ‘A true Slytherin’s wand, right there!’. Except for one of the wands, which Dan was rapidly approaching. He seemed compelled to touch it, to hold it, to get a feel for it.
Please let its core be dragon heartstring! Dan thought desperately, as he approached what he thought was a birch wand. It was lighter than all the other wands, closer to white than to brown, and it looked nothing like a wand for a Slytherin. It looks like a gay wand, he thought bitterly. But if it had dragon heartstring as a core, maybe it would redeem itself.
As Dan touched the wand, his fingers grew warm, and it felt as if the wand was vibrating beneath his fingers. He confidently picked it up, and it felt perfect in his hand. It seemed to purr, to come to life with the amount of magic running through him, directing itself into the wand.
“Well, give it a wave!” Ollivander said, smiling grandly. Dan gave the wand a sharp flick, straight toward a bookshelf, and while half the books tumbled out, one floated gently towards Dan, landing on the table in front of him, the pages flipping wildly.
Wands tend to show their user’s personality. A longer wand might indicate a loose and erratic, a grand person/style of magic, while a shorter wand could suggest a more controlled, and sharp one. And, of course, wands could even specify things such as gender and sexuality, though it is harder to discern, as most wands look similar.
Dan hastily shut the book and shoved it back to Ollivander, laughing uneasily and hoping no one else had read the passage. If his gay wand was trying to get him outted, then it wasn’t a very good wand for him.
“That wand is perfect for you!” Ollivander gushed, grabbing Dan’s outstretched hand, running his fingers over the areas where Dan’s hand met the wand. “Oh, it really likes you!”
“Twelve and a half inches, birch wood, unicorn hair core! It suits you grandly, I hope you do it well!” He continued excitedly, and Dan stepped back, stricken, while his mother handed over the galleons.
As they exited the shop, his mum ruffled his hair excitedly. “Look at that! You got yourself a wand!” Dan swallowed, hoping to hide it from his father.
When the shopping had finally been done, and Dan had been laden with robes and books and cauldrons and ingredients and so much more, they finally returned home. It was torture waiting for the first of September to come, and excitement was constantly flowing out of Dan’s entire being. When the day finally did arrive, he’d woken up at five, repacked his entire trunk, made breakfast and eaten only two bites out of nervousness, and woken up his family at seven.
“But, it doesn’t leave until eleven, dear,” his mother had said, rubbing her eyes tiredly.
“I have all morning planned out,” Dan said earnestly, holding up his paper, which had every minute from now until eleven o’clock scheduled. 7:05, convince Mum that she needs to wake up immediately.
And so his family had gotten up, moving slowly, and everything had gone according to plan. They arrived for the train an hour early, just like Dan had planned, and they’d gone straight through the wall platform nine and three quarters.
“Oh, good bye Daniel, I’ll be missing you,” his mum said as he prepared to board the train, before she kissed his cheek.
“There’s my man! I’m so proud of you,” his father said, ruffling his hair. Dan was quick to run his fingers back through it carefully, seeing as it’d taken him all morning to get it right. Oh Merlin, he was so gay. Stupid wand.
Dan had followed Adam onto the train, who had threatened him when he’d tried to sit with him. And so Dan had carefully pulled his trunk to an empty carriage, and sat staring out the window. The train finally started moving, pulling out of the station, and Dan stared in wonder at the green grass and rolling hills they immediately began to see, once the station disappeared.
“Excuse me,” A voice snarled from the carriage door. Dan turned to look at the boy, who was backed up by two other boys his age. “You’re in our compartment.”
“Oh. Well, you can join me,” Dan said politely. He didn’t want to get his journey off to a bad start, and maybe this way he could make some friends. The boy laughed.
“Or,” he said conventionally, as if what he were about to suggest was a much better idea. Dan was all ears. “You could get the hell out!” he growled, and he and his friends stormed into the small room, and Dan was standing up on the bench, trying to stand taller than the other boys. They looked like they were older than him, but that might’ve just been because they seemed like giants. Or the boy he’d been talking to had, anyway.
The boy gripped Dan’s robes, right in the stomach, and tugged him forward roughly. Their bodies were pressed flush together, which was not good for Dan’s gay little body, which might have other ideas. He was blushing profusely as he looked up at the (rather attractive) glaring wizard.
“Alright?” He said, his hand still fisted in the younger’s robes. He dragged Dan to the door of the compartment, before shoving him to the floor in the hallway. His trunk quickly followed, landing on his hand and making him yelp. The other boys laughed.
Dan stood up weakly, before the compartment behind him slid open, and a kind looking witch, thankfully looking like a first year, grabbed his hand and dragged him gently into her compartment. She glared at the bullies through the window, who were still laughing uproariously, before giving them the finger. Dan, who’d never given anyone the finger before, was amazed by this eleven year old.
“Hello, I’m Louise,” she said with a smile, before grabbing Dan’s trunk and shoving it to the other end of the compartment.
“Dan,” Dan informed, a smile threatening to break out on his face.
“Don’t mind that lot,” Louise said with an eye roll. “They’re first years too, they just think that they can boss others around because they’re mean looking.” Dan did think that they, in fact, looked mean.
“That one’s my neighbor,” Louise pointed. Dan followed her finger to the tallest boy, the one who’d grabbed his robes. He had stark black hair, and fierce eyes, ones that looked incredibly mean when they were glaring. Dan didn’t doubt that the boy would be placed in Slytherin, and it made him want to get housed there even less. “His name’s Phil Lester, and he’s a Grade A jerk,” she informed. Dan nodded at this not-so-new information.
“Don’t worry about him though, because you just made friend’s with the best first year on board!” Louise giggled, and Dan couldn’t help but to laugh alongside her.
“No, I think you just did that,” Dan joked, and the rest of the train ride was full of an easy banter between the two. They were fast friends, and the conversation came easy to them. Dan couldn’t have been more thankful to make a friend so easily, but he still couldn’t get rid of the niggling of anxiety in his chest, wondering what he would do when he inevitably didn’t get sorted into Slytherin.