Chapter Text
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I Do Not Own Harry Potter.
All Characters Appearing In This Work Are Fictitious. Any Resemblance To Real Persons, Living Or Dead Is Purely Coincidental.
Chapter 7 – A Gift Freely Given
Harry furrowed his brows.
“You’ve said that three times now, Mr. Ollivander. Why do I feel like it’s not just a phrase?”
Garrick’s expression softened, and he inclined his head.
“Because it is not just a phrase, Mr. Potter. It is an old pure‑blood tradition.”
Arthur’s brows rose sharply. He leaned forward, his voice rich with memory.
“I haven’t heard that phrase in years. It’s old pure‑blood tradition. But Garrick — a gift of this nature cannot be freely given. It breaks the very rule it was built on.”
Ollivander’s smile sharpened, sly but respectful.
“Technically, Arthur, it does not. When you refused to accept payment for my lodgings, as a result I immediately ceased being a patron and became a guest instead. And as per the old pure‑blood rules, a guest may — at a time of his choosing, but most often toward the end of his tenure — gift his hosts with a gift of equal value to the hospitality he believes he has received. Thus, I repay your kindness in the only way I know how. And since Filius will be visiting tomorrow to help cast the Vow of Silence, it is only fitting, is it not? Completely in line with tradition.”
Arthur was rendered speechless, hoisted on his own petard. For a long moment he simply stared at Garrick, then finally nodded his head and smiled — conceding not in defeat, but in recognition of the old ways honored anew.
Ollivander’s gaze swept the room, his voice steady.
“You must understand — the Vow of Silence is the reason I have remained here at the Burrow. When you three recounted the events of the war to Kingsley, to Minerva, and to myself, you entrusted me with truths that cannot be allowed to wander. Until the vow is cast, those secrets remain vulnerable. Once bound, they will be sealed within me, never to be spoken without your leave. That is why I stayed — not merely as guest, but as guardian of what you chose to share.”
And for Ollivander, it was a moment of quiet triumph. Not of victory, but of balance — the craftsman’s art, the wizard’s burden, and the guest’s gratitude, all bound together in a single phrase: a gift freely given.
For now, everyone savored the feeling of home — its warmth, its safety, its protective walls. But sooner rather than later, they would need to leave that comfort behind, to greet the world waiting beyond.