“It’ll be just like old times, I guess,” James was saying, smirking but with a look of hatred in his eyes. “Is your son planning on starting up the old group at Hogwarts again, then, Malfoy?”
“Do not insult me, Potter,” Mr Malfoy said coldly. He started to go on, but James interrupted.
“And how are you going to stop me?” He grinned, especially pleased with the frosty irritation at his interruption. “I’d love to see you try. I dunno how you’d manage to wriggle out of trouble for cursing someone for no reason right in the middle of a bookshop, but it promises to be fun.”
Harry went to stand next to Remus, who was on the sidelines of the fight and looking awkward. “Oh hullo, Harry,” he said. “I’d step back a bit, looks like they might start shooting sparks even without pulling their wands out.”
“What’s going on?”
“We had the, er, luck to run into an old acquaintance of ours.” Remus shook his head. “Your father is still a bit ... chafing.”
“Well, I can tell that much,” Harry said, nodding at the two wizards who now appeared to be engaged in a staring contest.
“It’s just lucky Sirius isn’t here. If those two were standing next to each other, the bookshop might be in shambles by now.”
Harry looked around and saw an attendant hovering a little ways away, twitching nervously. “Why haven’t they been kicked out yet?”
“Most likely because everyone’s afraid of what Lucius Malfoy and James Potter will do to each other and the street if they’re given the opportunity,” Remus said, sighing. “And ‘step outside’ is frightfully like an opportunit”Oh no.” Sirius and Brenna had just entered the store. Remus moved to intercept them, but Sirius had already noticed Mr Malfoy. His face split into a wolfish grin, and he left Brenna in Remus’s care to stalk forward. The attendant was starting to look panicked.
“Malfoy? Lucius Malfoy? Well, well....”
Mr Malfoy looked over and narrowed his eyes, taking on a look like something smelly had just come in. “Ah, Potter. I mean Black. So sorry. One does find it hard to keep the two of you straight these days.”
“My apologies,” Sirius snarled, “for actually sticking by my friends.”
Mr Malfoy’s eyes drifted over to Remus, his eyebrows lifting with his smirk. “Such worthy friends.”
“You slimy little....”
“Ah, the insults.” Mr Malfoy shook his head. “It seems this conversation has decayed down to petty name-calling. You’ll excuse me if I don’t lower myself to join you.” And he swept out of the shop.
Remus snagged Sirius by the arm as he tried to follow him out. “Not now,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, not looking over at Sirius. “Let it go.” Sirius shook Remus off and glowered sourly out the door.
Harry approached his dad, who looked disappointed at missing his chance to hex Mr Malfoy. “Dad? Are you okay?”
“What? Oh. Fine.” He ran his fingers through his hair, mussing it up more than usual. “Let’s just get your books, son.” James remained rather quiet the rest of the time they were in Flourish and Blotts, ignoring Sirius’s brooding looks.
They went on to get most of Harry’s supplies with the same dark cloud hanging over them, so Harry decided to say something. “I think I met Mr Malfoy’s son,” Harry said, would-be casual. He didn’t know what else to do, but it seemed like everyone was upset mostly over the insult to Remus, so if he could just change the subject....
“Draco?” Sirius said.
Harry shrugged. “Didn’t catch his name.” Sheepishly, he added, “I was a little too preoccupied calling him a git and defending Gryffindor.”
Sirius laughed and patted him on the shoulder. “You’ll be just fine, then.”
James grinned, looking up the street. “Well, why don’t we get you your birthday present next, Harry, and then go get your wand?”
Harry brightened, trying to follow his gaze. “Really? What is it?”
“I dunno yet. What d’you want?” James nodded toward the Magical Menagerie down the street.
Harry thought of his dad’s Great Horned owl back home and grinned. “An owl,” he said.
“You could always use the school owls to send letters,” James went on, “but I thought you’d rather have your own.”
So, all five of them piled into the shop, already crowded with cages of all shapes and sizes, containing animals from birds (small little finches all the way up to enormous ravens, but not an owl in sight) to rodents to reptiles. Brenna immediately went to a cage on her eye-level containing several hyperactive ferrets bouncing a ping-pong ball to each other with their noses like seals. One of the cats lying on a shelf eyeing a cage of bouncing purple balls of fluff seemed to have a coat pattern like a cross between a tabby and a blue roan horse.
“Anything in particular you’re looking for?” asked the witch behind the counter as one of her customers left carrying a closed basket that rustled strangely.
“I’m looking for an owl,” Harry said.
“Don’t have too many owls due to lack of space,” she said, “but I did get a rare one in the other day. Snowy. She’s off in the back where it’s dark.”
“Can I see her?” Harry asked eagerly. He’d never seen anyone else with a snowy owl before. The witch went off into the back, and moments later, Harry was looking happily through the wire bars at a somewhat disgruntled snowy owl. “She’s beautiful.” He looked over at James, who stepped up to the counter chuckling.
Sirius was forced to pick up Brenna in order to get her away from the ferrets and out of the shop. His face lit up upon seeing Florean Fortesque’s Ice Cream Parlour just across the street. “D’you want some ice cream, Brenna?”
She cheered up immediately.
“Say, Prongs mate, would you mind taking her?” Sirius asked James, grinning a bit too sweetly to be believable. James took one look at him, shook his head, and took Brenna from him, heading across the street. “Thanks a million.”
Harry wasn’t quite sure what Sirius was up to, but he followed him down the street curiously, his mouth dropping open when they stopped at Quality Quidditch Supplies. “You don’t have your own broom yet, do you Harry?”
Remus rolled his eyes even as the three of them went in. “Sirius, he can’t have his own broom. It says on the list.”
“Just because he can’t take it doesn’t mean he can’t have it, right?” He put a hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Go on, Harry. Pick out any one of the lot. Happy birthday.”
Harry grinned and dashed over to the displays, barely hearing Remus mutter, “Now I know why Brenna got taken for ice cream....” He looked over the Silver Tail display first because that was what his dad had, but it didn’t take long before he was walking back out of the shop with a brand new Nimbus Two Thousand. Brenna just about threw a fit when she saw they’d gone to Quality Quidditch Supplies without her.
The only thing left was his wand, and Harry felt a thrill of excitement as they approached Ollivander’s shop, marked with faded gold letters over the door. A bell tinkled somewhere in the depths of the shop as they entered. It was small inside, the walls covered in stacks of thin boxes as high as the ceiling. The air absorbed sound like a sponge, forcing even Brenna to quiet down. Harry looked around at all the thin boxes, wondering which one held his wand.
He’d never been in a place like this before. The hair on the back of his neck prickled with the magic in the air. So many wands being stacked up for so long in one place seemed to have made everything down to the little spindly chair magical.
“Good afternoon.”
Harry jumped. An old man stood before them, peering with strangely lit eyes, like small moons. He looked over Harry carefully. “Ah yes, I thought I’d be seeing you soon. Harry Potter.” Harry shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny of those glowing eyes. “You have your mother’s eyes. I remember well the day she came in here herself to buy her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Good for charm work.” His eyes flicked to James. “And James Potter. Mahogany. Eleven inches. Pliable.”
James nodded, grinning a bit. “Your memory is as creepy as it ever was. Nice to see you again.”
Mr Ollivander nodded to him, his eyes moving on to Sirius. “Sirius Black, cherry wood, nine inches, nice and sturdy.” Sirius patted a hand over the very wand just described. “An unusual combination, cherry and dragon heartstring. But then, you turned out a bit unusual yourself, eh, Mr Black?”
He grinned and bowed. “To the dismay of my poor, dear old mum.” James snorted. Harry was starting to agree with his dad: Mr Ollivander’s memory was kind of creepy.
“And, of course, Remus Lupin. Yours was also willow, but nine and a half inches and flexible.” He looked Remus over for a moment. “I hope your wand is doing better than you look, lad.”
Remus smiled a bit, looking much older than either of his friends standing next to him. “I do take care of it, yes.”
Mr Ollivander just nodded, returning his attention to Harry. “I suppose we should get started, then. Which is your wand arm?” he asked, pulling out a tape measure. Harry stretched out his right arm, and Mr Ollivander started to measure him. It started out rather expected”shoulder to wrist, length and width of his palm, finger length”and deteriorated from there until it started measuring around his head and from his knees to the floor.
“I use magical substances as the core of wands, Mr Potter,” he said as he measured, “but only the most stable and powerful. Every Ollivander wand contains a unique core of either unicorn hair, phoenix tail feather, or dragon heartstring. The wand will be as unique as the owner it chooses. And yes, I did say the owner it chooses, for the wand chooses the wizard, my boy. Never forget that.”
By now, the tape measure was moving on its own as Mr Ollivander browsed the boxes, pulling some of them down. “Right then,” he said, and the tape measure, which had been measuring around Harry’s calves, crumpled to the floor. “Try this one. Elm and dragon heartstring. Eight inches and rather spry. Just give it a wave.”
He did, feeling his excitement mounting now that he was finally trying out wands (secretly taking James’s wand and trying to cast spells with it wasn’t nearly the same thing as having his own), but none of the wands seemed to be right. Even Harry could feel it as he tried several in a row. The magic from the room around him just didn’t seem to include him.
Mr Ollivander paused after a while, looking thoughtful. “Well, why not....” He searched among the boxes for something specific. “Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches and supple.” He handed the wand to Harry. “Unusual, but....”
He felt the difference immediately. This wand, unlike the others, felt magical as soon as he touched it. On a whim, he waved it toward Brenna, shooting red and gold sparks at her and making her squeal and hide behind Sirius. Everyone but Brenna clapped, and James said, “I think we have a winner.”
Mr Ollivander looked preoccupied with something as he wrapped the wand back up in its box. Harry glanced over at his dad, but James was whispering to Sirius, both of them grinning. When he turned back, Mr Ollivander was peering at him closely. Harry shifted uncomfortably.
Something about the way he stood made the rest of the group quiet down to listen. He paused as if deciding something then reached up to lightly touch Harry’s scar. “I’m afraid I sold the wand that did this,” he said softly, his tone making the hair on the back of Harry’s neck prickle. “Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. With a phoenix feather core. Now, it just so happens, Mr Potter, that the phoenix who gave the feather in your wand gave only one other feather.” He tapped Harry’s forehead once again. “This one.” Harry felt a chill run through him at the touch. “It was a very powerful wand. But as I said, the wand chooses the wizard. Curious how these things happen. We should expect great things from you, Mr Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things. Terrible, yes, but great.”
“That’s quite enough, Mr Ollivander,” James snapped, stepping forward and putting his hands on Harry’s shoulders. “If you don’t mind, we’ll take Harry’s wand and leave.”
Mr Ollivander bowed politely. “My apologies, of course. I did not mean to offend.”
Harry looked up at James and said quietly, “It’s okay, Dad.”
“No,” James said flatly, not taking his eyes off the wand maker. “It’s not.”
Harry’s wand was wrapped up and paid for, and Mr Ollivander bowed them from his shop. James was the last to leave. No one was much in a talking mood as they headed back down Diagon Alley to the Leaky Cauldron with all of Harry’s things, most of them piled into his cauldron. His head felt stuffed full of cotton and bees, muffling the constant buzz of his thoughts until he wasn’t sure what he was thinking anymore.
Another man was approaching the fireplace just as they were, preoccupied and worried about something. As a matter of fact, Harry thought, he looked downright terrified. His thin face was pale, and he couldn’t stop twitching: be it wringing his hands or scratching his neck. He jumped a little when he noticed all of them. “Oh d-dear,” he stuttered. “Sorry.”
“You go ahead of us,” Remus said politely. “It’ll take us a bit to all get through.”
The young man nodded, almost bobbed. “Th-Thank you.” His eyes swept indiscriminately over all of them but darted back to Harry. Specifically, his forehead. Against all odds, he paled further and ducked his head, hurrying to the fireplace. He stuttered so badly and was in such a rush that Harry couldn’t understand where he told the fire he was going.
“I hope he doesn’t get lost,” Harry muttered absently.
“He’s weird,” Brenna said.
“So are you, but you don’t hear us complaining,” Harry said. She just stuck her nose in the air.
Hogwarts Chronicles: the Philosopher's Stone by Faile, BrennaShade
Chapter Notes: From here on out, I will be pulling a few things directly out of the books--from this chapter, bits and pieces of Ollivander's dialogue were borrowed from "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone" pages 82-85 of the US edition. The plot is based strongly off of JKR's "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" because the intention was to find out how the books would be different if James was alive. Any similar elements found in this story which can be traced directly back to JKR's works are attributed to that and are not meant to be plagiarism. I do not take credit for the plot or anything else taken out of the books. This was written only for a "what if" and enjoyment.
Chapter Endnotes: As always, thanks to my wonderful beta, LucillaJoanna.