Ollivander's Apprentice

Harry J Potter

Harry grimaced as he was rudely awoken by the morning sunlight, streaming through his open window. Muttering incoherently to himself, he flung his sheets over his head, attempting to block out as much offending light as possible. He had been in the middle of such a wonderful dream although the more he tried to remember it and force himself back into that world, the quicker it vanished. Realising defeat Harry threw his crimson sheets lazily back and swung his legs over the side of his bed. Just as Harry began stretching his sore muscles a loud pop echoed around his bedroom.

“Good mornings to you Lord Potter. Dobby has made Lord Potter breakfast.” Kreacher’s drawling tone echoed behind him.

Harry rolled his eyes hearing how snarky the aging house elf sounded. Since Dobby and Kreacher’s first meeting during the war, the two never completely got along; even working together to hunt down the slime Mundungus for Harry and his friends, as they tried to find clues to the location of the horcruxes, wasn’t enough. “I’ll come down in a minute I’ve just got to finish getting ready.”

Kreacher mumbled under his breath as he gave Harry a deep bow. “Very well Lord Potter.”

“Wait Kreacher…” Harry quickly called out just before the grumpy house-elf vanished from his bedroom. “…before you go, why have you started calling me Lord Potter? It seems like an odd thing to have suddenly taken up.”

“Kreacher did not just take it up, Lord Potter.” Kreacher gasped his dull eyes snapping open at Harry’s apparent insult. “Since returning to Britain and claiming the Potter and Black Lordship, it is Master’s new title.”

Harry flinched at the word title. “Err…right well in the future don’t call me that please.”

“As Master wishes.” Kreacher ground out, his aging face contorted in frustration moments before apparating out.

Once he was alone, Harry stomped over to his cupboard in the far corner of the room and began searching for something to wear. He hated mornings. While he had been stuck living with the Dursleys he had grown used to the early mornings; every day he was required to ensure breakfast was cooked perfectly, the dishes were cleaned spotlessly and Uncle Vernon’s coffee was prepared long before his relatives came downstairs. Although now he had been free from their clutches for several years, he’s come to enjoy and even miss the warmth of his bed.

“Bloody Remus and Sirius…” Harry muttered as he pulled out a pair of black jeans and a dark collared blue shirt Remus had bought him for his last birthday, before placing a plain black robe over the top. He hated titles and something told him that Remus and Sirius had planned everything. It hadn’t taken the pair long to slide into the role of parental figures, they even seemed to enjoy sticking their noses into Harry’s life.

After the war finally finished and Voldemort was nothing more than a blemish in wizarding history, Harry had been whisked away to France by Sirius and Remus. Harry had been furious with the pair for taking him away before the dust had even started to settle; after all he barely had the chance to check on his friends, before the pair had tricked him into using a portkey. Every time he complained about it however they normally replied with the same guilt laden tone.

“You’ve done your job Cub. It’s completely reasonable that we would want to take you away for a while, at least until the Ministry or the Order can catch any remaining deatheaters.” Remus argued. “Besides you are family to us, is it wrong to want to spend time with you after what we’ve all been through?”

“His job?” Sirius scoffed his pale face growing red in frustration. “It bloody wasn’t his stupid job in the first place; Dumbledore should have never put him in that position. Each and every dangerous act, he’s been ‘asked’ to do has easily taken years off my life. We all need this...a bit of peace. ”

He supposed he should be thankful that at the very least he had managed to see Ron and Hermione, face to face one last time. For thirteen years Harry lived in the French country side with Sirius and Remus in a rustic cottage. The cottage was a charming two-bedroom home complete with strangler figs that wound themselves around the house. Other than the fact that Harry would have preferred to live somewhere with hot water, it was still a nice place.

While his guardians kept arguing that until Britain was safe France was the best place for them, it surprised Harry how much he came to enjoy the forced relocation. At first there were obvious downsides to living in a country that you can’t speak the native tongue, thankfully however with Remus’s help he had managed to pick up enough French to get by. The idea of living in France was purely meant to be for safety, yet it was during that time that Harry found a new calling rather than what was expected of the Boy-Who-Conquered.

Oddly enough they weren’t the only people seeking a fresh start in another country, their neighbour turned out to be Garrick Ollivander. After what happened during the war, Ollivander had repaired his shop but never reopened; his focus in life shifted and all he wanted was to retire and spend his remaining years with his wife. Harry couldn’t really blame the elderly wizard in the slightest for his decision. The man had run his business by himself most of his life, and being tortured by deatheaters was enough to cause any person to re-evaluate their lives.

Harry wasn’t sure how his future came up for debate exactly however he suspected that again his guardians had something to do with it. Just over a month of living in the serene countryside, the famed wand maker visited their cottage. As Ollivander didn’t have any children to pass down his family’s secret art form, he offered Harry to become his apprentice. It didn’t take Harry long to accept the generous offer; he’d always been fascinated by wands ever since his first trip to Diagon Alley where he bought his holly wand.

As the thirteen year milestone away from Britain reared its head, news reached them stating that the final deatheater had been captured and sent to Azkaban. Seeing as Harry had just finished his training with Ollivander and there was not much holding them to France, the trio packed up all their belongings and headed back home.

Harry had been rather nervous jumping back into the wizarding world that had shaken his world for so long. Once they stepped onto British soil, Harry’s first instinct was to catch up with his friends but Sirius had something else in mind. Ignoring Harry’s wishes, Sirius had dragged Harry straight to Gringotts; by the end of the day Sirius had convinced him that in order to have access to his family’s money and any properties they owned he would have to accept the role of Lord Potter. He had even assured him that it was just something written on banking parchment and not something to be worried about in the slightest. After Harry had followed his godfather’s advice and claimed the Potter lordship, Sirius had denounced his own lordship position which then fell to his legal and magical heir – Harry.

Once Harry was dressed, he headed down to the dining hall to see a small banquet covering every inch of the massive Potter dining table.

“Err…Dobby?”

Instantly the small house elf appeared by his side beaming up at him. There was no denying that Dobby was a happy elf since being freed from the Malfoy family but currently he seemed to be the essence of bliss.

“Good morning. Is there something Dobby can help Harry Potter with?”

Harry looked down at Dobby his mouth hanging open in surprise. He had grown used to seeing the unique house elf in a variety of odd clothing and socks but something about today seemed especially…odd.

Dobby was wearing a white t-shirt and baggy black shorts complete with a hideous pair of fluro purple socks with multiple green lightning bolts stitched across them. That in of itself wasn’t the weirdest thing Dobby had ever selected to wear, but it certainly felt to him that it was up there. Harry normally didn’t care what Dobby wore as it seemed to make the house elf happy being able to dress freely but his current outfit was different. To be more precise it was the shape on the back of Dobby’s white shirt that tipped his outfit from different to crazy.

“Dobby…is…umm…is that meant to be my face?” Harry asked pointing a shaky hand at the back of the house elf’s white shirt. Even though he hadn’t bothered attempting it, he doubted that he would be able to keep the shocked sound out of his voice.

Dobby grinned widely, nodding excitedly at Harry’s question. “Oh yes Harry Potter. Dobby wanted to try drawing the great Harry Potter on the back of his clothing so that every wizard and witch knows whose Dobby’s friend and Lord is.”

Harry’s stomach lurched forward at his friend’s declaration. “You’ve put my face on the back of all your clothing?”

He wasn’t completely sure how to feel about Dobby’s choice of clothing. Harry was having an internal debate about his opinion; he was currently stuck somewhere between humour and embarrassment.

“Not yet, Dobby was planning on finishing them later today during his break.” The small house elf revealed, rocking back and forth on the heels of his feet. Harry couldn’t help smirk as Dobby’s single croc released a squeak as he rolled onto his heels.

“Well I think you should probably leave the rest of them as they are…I mean, it just makes that shirt more unique right?”

Dobby looked thoughtful as he considered Harry’s suggestion. While Dobby was definitely a character that was consistently surprising him, Harry was glad to have him in his life and wouldn’t change a thing about him. Shortly after being Lord Potter and Lord Black, Harry moved into Potter Manor just outside of London. Before he even had a spare moment to finish adjusting the wards of his home, Dobby arrived and pledged his loyalty to House Potter. It turned out that as much as he loved being independent and working at Hogwarts, he truly wanted to be by Harry’s side.

Harry agreed to Dobby becoming the Potter house elf but there were stipulations. Firstly Dobby wasn’t a magically bound slave to the Potter line instead he magically swore his allegiance, which was more than enough for Harry. Secondly he was effectively an employee working for a wage and even received breaks and holidays; the last one having taken some explaining on Harry’s part.

“Okay Harry Potter. Dobby be doing that. Dobby actually likes the idea of a special Harry shirt. Was there anything sir needed?”

“What? Oh right sorry…” Harry sheepishly said rubbing the last remnant of annoying sleep out of his eye. Dobby’s choice of wardrobe had caused him to completely forget the reason he had called for Dobby in the first place. “…as much as all this looks incredible, it’s a lot for one person. Perhaps next time just some cereal from the cupboard or bacon and eggs…”

Dobby shrugged. “Dobby was trying to give Harry Potter a breakfast he deserved. But Dobby be understanding Harry and Dobby tries not to cook so much anymore. If Harry doesn’t want to eat all of this, should Dobby get rid of it?”

Harry didn’t particularly like this suggestion as it would involve a lot of waste and it was something that was beaten into him from a young age; to waste food was considered a crime in the Dursley home. “Actually Dobby that sounds like a brilliant idea however instead of throwing it away could you do me a favour? Would you mind, after I finish eating, to take the rest over to Remus and Sirius’s house please?”

After they returned from their extended holiday in France and Sirius had basically tricked Harry into becoming Lord Potter-Black, the two remaining marauders bought a home in London. It sometimes made Harry lonely living alone, but he would never say anything to the pair. He understood that they might want some alone time. It was that alone time that gave Harry the idea of giving them the left-overs; it was common knowledge that Sirius had a healthy appetite that could only be rivalled by Ron’s own. Unfortunately for them, Sirius couldn’t boil water and Remus purely hated any form of cooking.

“Of course, Dobby likes visiting Harry Potter’s Mr Padfoot and Mr Moony.” With a small bow Dobby left Harry to start his breakfast.

Once alone with his massive breakfast, that he was sure would bring shame to the Hogwarts house elves, Harry started to spoon a small helping of everything onto his plate. He was never one to eat a lot but everything Dobby had prepared looked utterly mouth-watering; the way the steam wafted from the mountain of scrambled eggs in the middle of the table or stack of toast to his left that was smothered in butter, was incredible.

Just as Harry finished the last morsel on his plate, Kreacher apparated by the entrance to the dining hall with his customary bow.

“Lord Potter, Kreacher has message for you from the muggleborn.”

Harry frowned. It had taken the threat of clothes for Kreacher to stop calling Hermione ‘mudblood’, yet the Black house elf still found a way around Harry’s rule. It seemed that unless Harry made it an order, Kreacher revelled in altering anything Harry asked that he didn’t like. Unfortunately for Harry he wasn’t the kind of person that enjoyed ordering others around. “Her name is Hermione and for the last time I’d like you to call her by her name Kreacher.”

“As Lord Potter says.” Kreacher said clicking his fingers, causing a small charred piece of parchment to appear out of thin air and hover in front of his face. Reaching out he carefully took the magically suspended note, surprised at the warmth radiating from the yellowed letter.

“I don’t remember seeing any owls.” Harry said as he opened the message.

“No Lord Potter. The muggleborn sent it over floo.”

Before he had a chance of reprimanding the rebellious house elf, Kreacher had bowed and vanished having completed his job.

Over the years, Harry truly missed his friends and although he attempted to stay in regular contact, it wasn’t the same. Hermione, Luna, Seamus and Neville were excellent at replying to his letters but not everyone did. Ron in particular randomly stopped answering his letters and even started returning them unopened. Pushing his emotional thoughts to the back of his mind, Harry sighed and turned his attention towards Hermione’s cursive handwriting.

Dear Harry,

I know we agreed to meet at Ollivanders this afternoon but I was hoping to catch you this morning. There are a few things we need to discuss. If you can’t make this morning don’t worry about getting hold of me, I’ll assume that when I come by at eight that if you don’t answer my knocking that you aren’t there and I’ll see you at our original time.

Love Hermione

Seeing the time Hermione wanted to meet him, he jerked his head over to the ancient looking grandfather clock that sat in the far corner of the room. While the Weasley family’s clock was interesting and impressive, the only amazing thing about his was how fast it accumulated dust.

“Damn it.” Harry swore, jumping up from his seat. If he was going to meet Hermione this morning, he only had ten minutes to get there. “I’ve got to go Dobby. Hermione is waiting for me at the shop.” Harry shouted as he headed over to the fireplace. He carefully removed a handful of floo powder from the glass jar to the left of the fireplace before stepping inside.

“Ollivanders, Diagon Alley.” Harry bellowed dropping the shimmering green powder onto the hearth which produced emerald flames that encased his body.

--

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace in the back office of the famous wand shop. He surveyed the office and saw the random assorted boxes that littered the floor, each of which was stacked haphazardly on top of another. Harry thought he could make out a small wooden desk in the back corner but it was mostly hidden by several containers marked ‘Unicorn Tail Hair’ in small narrow script. Judging from the thick layer of dust that seemed to have settled over everything in sight, it appeared that Ollivander wasn’t kidding when he mentioned in passing that he hadn’t returned in a while.

With the British wand maker out of business, the wizarding public were forced to purchase new wands overseas. These two actions left the shop full of materials sitting patiently in layers of dust for over ten years, which normally would cause issues with them but Ollivander assured Harry the preservation charms should have held. He still couldn’t believe that he was the new owner of Ollivanders Wand Shop. The last time he could remember being in Ollivanders was when he got his holly wand, days after turning eleven. Now that he was the wand maker, it was his turn to help the next generation.

A quick rapping at the front of the shop shook Harry from his sentimental daydream. Realising that the few moments he had to prepare for Hermione had vanished; Harry quickly removed his wand from his pocket and headed out into the main shop. Glancing over to the front door, he could just make out a thin figure on the other side of the frosted glass.

Trying not to think too much about the fact he was about to see Hermione for the first time in years, Harry yanked open the door and tried to force a relaxed smile.

“Hey ‘Mione.” Harry grinned as he internally kicked himself for his lack of creativity. Somehow the simplicity of his first words after such a long time apart and everything they’d been through was anticlimactic.

With the door completely open he could clearly see his best friend. Hermione’s once bushy brown hair had tamed itself slightly as it hung around her shoulders, it looked more wavy than frizzy but that was where the changes ended; she still had the same intelligent brown eyes and the same warm smile that screamed Hermione Granger.

“Harry!” Hermione shouted flinging her arms around his slim frame successfully squeezing the air out of his lungs.

“…H-H-Her-mione…” Harry gasped, fighting for air.

Quickly her grip weakened and she disentangled herself. “Oh…sorry Harry.” She murmured.

“It’s okay ‘Mione.” He chuckled.

“Mum!” A loud voice called out from down the street instantly grabbing Hermione’s attention. Harry watched in shock as a lanky boy and short girl ran up to Hermione. The boy was fairly tall even for his age and had a couple of freckles across his nose while the girl looked like a mini-Hermione; almost exactly how he remembered her during their first year.

“What are you two doing? I thought your father was going to take you home?” Hermione asked looking between the two children as though waiting to test their response for a lie. It was a look that he was all too familiar with.

“Dad got called into work again and said that we had to stay with you.” The boy said looking at Harry curiously. There was something about those piercing blue eyes that seemed to spark something in Harry’s memory, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

“Mum?” Harry asked sarcastically as he raised an eyebrow at his sheepish looking friend. A faint pinkish hue erupted over Hermione’s face as she gave Harry a small nod.

Hermione sighed rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Perhaps introductions would be better inside.”

Knowing that he wouldn’t get any answers otherwise, Harry stepped to the side and let the three into the shop. After years of communication with his close friend she had never once hinted about having kids or a husband. The last he heard about Hermione at the topic of dating was something Luna had mentioned in passing about Ron and her breaking up.

“Just as dusty as I remember…” Hermione said wistfully staring around the room.

“Instead of discussing how dusty my new shop is perhaps we could discuss you being “mum”?” Harry asked ensuring to use the appropriate gestures at the word mum that had Hermione rolling her eyes.

“Yes I spose I have some things to explain. First let me introduce my kids, this is Alexander Granger …” At the mention of his name the boy came forward and held out his hand to shake.

“I prefer Alex.” He said simply, giving Harry a smile as they formally greeted each other.

Once he had stepped back next to Hermione, she took a breath before gently resting her hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “…and this is Victoria Granger. Kids, this is Harry Potter one of my oldest friends.”

Seeing how nervous the small version of his best friend appeared, Harry waved and gave her a friendly smile. Perhaps seeing that he wasn’t so intimidating, she offered a brief wave and a weak smile of her own in reply before she returned to gazing around the room.

“Nice to meet you both.” Harry said warmly trying to keep the uneasiness out of his voice.

“I believe you have some questions Harry but would it be possible to leave them momentarily? The reason I changed the time of our meeting was that I wanted to catch up but seeing as I’m now looking after the kids, I don’t have a lot of time and I need a favour.” Hermione asked with a small amount of pleading behind her words.

“I spose.” He agreed reluctantly. Although he would do anything for his brilliant friend, Harry felt irritated that after dropping two bombs on him he’d have to wait for an explanation. “So what can I help you with?”

“Harry Potter, there is no need for that tone.” She snapped playfully. “I was actually hoping that you could help Alex and Victoria get new wands. Victoria here will need her first wand and now that I know Ollivanders is opening and the wandmaker just happens to be my best friend, I couldn’t pass it up.” Hermione smirked.

Harry wasn’t very surprised to hear from Hermione about Victoria needing her first wand, as it explained her resemblance to her mother at that age. What confused Harry was Alex’s need for a new wand.

“I understand and I’d be happy to help out Hermione but what about Alex? Doesn’t he already have a wand?”

Hermione nodded. “Yes, Alex is going into his second year at Hogwarts but when he needed a wand, Ollivanders was obviously still not operational. Therefore I was forced to take him overseas for a wand. However I’m just not sure about the wand, it doesn’t seem to suit him very well.”

He smirked in amusement as he thought of what his wand crafting mentor would say in regards to other crafters. ‘Probably something involving the words…pathetic, barbaric or perhaps moronic.’ He thought to himself taking into account how Ollivander reacted during the Triwizard Tournament as he inspected the champion’s wands from France and Russia.

“I can have a look Hermione but what’s given you that idea?” From previous experience he knew that Hermione was an extremely bright witch and had never before jumped to conclusions without some form of proof.

“I’m not an expert on wand lore but spells seem to be harder for him to master and during his charms exam last year, the wand rebelled and blasted a hole through the desk he was trying to levitate.” She said with her lips pursed and her brown eyes darting over to the son who looked suddenly uncomfortable. Despite being obviously unimpressed, he knew that she didn’t truly blame Alex.

Harry could understand why she was dubious about her son’s wand but it didn’t necessarily mean it was the wrong one for him; after all Seamus Finnigan was notorious for exploding objects even with basic spells and yet he was paired perfectly by Ollivander himself. It all depended on the wand combination and the wizard it selected.

“Okay I’ll have a look.” He tried not to chuckle as he watched Alex’s posture relax and Hermione offering him a relieved smile. “I think its best I have a look at Alex’s wand first, as it might take the longest.”

At Harry’s suggestion Hermione took herself and Victoria over to the back corner where she conjured two red plush seats for them to wait. Harry turned to Hermione’s first born child and held out his hand. “Can I have a look at your wand please Alex?”

Without missing a beat Alex quickly dig his hand into his emerald robe’s pocket and removed a pale wand. The second Harry touched the wand it felt very wrong in his hands as though it was tainted somehow. One of the many things that he learnt throughout his apprenticeship was how to identify each wood type by feel, along with the magical pull of a wands core. After a few minutes of running his hand along the wands rough surface, Harry grimaced and turned his head towards Hermione.

“You bought this wand from Cephalopos in France didn’t you?”

Hermione sat up in her seat looking extremely surprised. “Yes actually. You can tell that by simply touching the wand?”

Harry flinched as he handed the horrible wand back to its unlucky owner, trying to think of a way to delicately explain the wand. “Cephalopos is a family of con-artists that are well known in the field. They move from country to country selling their dodgy wands for increased profit. Ollivander told me that most of the family were caught in Greece a little while ago and had been arrested but their marks are too obvious. It had to be them.”

“Oh Merlin…” Hermione whispered a look of horror settling over her face.

“Alex I’m going to assume that when you went to try the wand, it selected you practically straight away…am I right?”

Alex nodded his head confirming Harry’s suspicions. “It was the first wand I tried.”

“I thought so. While that is possible it’s unlikely. The wand is not aligned to you at all and the Kelpie Hair that resides in the wand has been damaged. You see wands have personalities just like humans and when they are forced to work for owners they aren’t connected too, bad things can happen.” Harry explained to Alex.

“What do you mean by bad things?” Alex inquired with his blue eyes igniting with a familiar curiosity that Harry had seen in Hermione’s.

“It varies but explosions, fires, weaker spells and even death of the wand is possible. Which I believe is the cause of your Kelpie Hair’s impurity…your wand is dying. It appears that the only thing that they got right between you and the wand is the length.”

Alex looked down at his wand sadly as he placed it back in his pocket. Heart-breaking sadness seemed to radiate from Alex as he started to study the shops dust-ridden floorboards. “I understand that I need a proper wand but do you think it’ll matter if I keep it...for sentimental reasons?”

Harry grinned. “Actually I don’t see why not. The wand won’t deteriorate further unless you try and use it so if you just want to have it around, I say go for it.”

Alex’s thin face shone with happiness at Harry’s words before he spun around and looked at his mother; judging by Hermione’s wavering stern look, he was applying puppy dog eyes.

“It’s not that I don’t trust your advice Harry, but…well…are you sure that it won’t cause any risk to Alex or anyone else?” Hermione asked nervously.

“I wouldn’t have suggested it Hermione if I thought it dangerous.” He replied, calmly refraining from barking something at the implications hidden in her question. Granted his years at Hogwarts were more dangerous than they should have been but it was hardly his fault, his decisions shouldn’t be doubted. Yet he understood where she was coming from, Alex was her son after all. “If you are dead set against it Hermione the alternative is to destroy the wand.”

Alex whipped around had gave Harry a betrayed look before rounding again on his mother. It had only taken another minute before Hermione waved her head towards Harry and Alex in defeat. “Oh fine but you can explain it to your father when we get home Alexander.”

Harry suspected that Hermione’s decision and choice of words wasn’t meant to make Alex grin madly. He highly suspected that he had stopped listening to his mother after the word – fine.

“Since you’ll be needing an entirely new wand Alex, I’ll need to get some from out the back for both you and your sister.”

Without waiting for a response Harry left the three Grangers in the front of his shop and moved to the back. During his apprenticeship Harry estimated he had made hundreds of wands of varying styles and combinations. While the average training of a new wand maker wouldn’t require the creation of so many wands, Ollivander had requested this of Harry as he had taken all his surviving stock; he had said that he felt a bit connected to each wand that he sold and didn’t feel comfortable letting someone else sell them – even his apprentice.

As he began searching the massive pile of boxes in the office for his wands, he instantly regretted asking Kreacher to transport them. Finally Harry spotted his two chests in the far corner of the room under several boxes. It appeared as though Kreacher was trying to mess with him again and doing a very good job at it. Harry whipped out his wand and began levitating boxes of dragon-heart strings and unicorn tail hair out of the way so he could reach the chests.

For the sixth time that morning, Harry aimed his wand at the two dark brown chests and cast the levitation charm. With the boxes leading the way, Harry returned to his customers ready for his first sale. Deciding to follow tradition right from his first ever sold wand, Harry opened the first box and dug through the box; according to Ollivander each and every wand sold must be properly presented to the intended witch or wizard rather than letting them go grabbing any wands from the shelves. At the time Harry thought it would be more fun to let them pick out a wand they liked and connected with by themselves but didn’t want to push the issue.

Feeling three sets of eyes on his back, Harry set the chests down in the middle of the room before going through them and selecting the ones he wanted to try first. The chests themselves were gifts from Remus and Sirius for finishing his apprenticeship; both were large and handcrafted made from cyprus and ebony wood with shiny gold covering its corners and lid. Harry thought the choice of woods was rather symbolic of the trio; Remus’s wand was made from cyprus while Sirius had an ebony wand that were both used to create personal chests for his wand-making needs.

“Perhaps this one?” Harry said proudly holding out a light brown wand.

Alex took the wand into his short fingers and stared intensely at it as though sizing it up before waving it over his head. Harry knew exactly what would happen the moment Alex started passing judgement on the wand and sure enough he was right. The second Alex finished moving his wand, the glass of the display window on his right smashed sending flying shards into the crowd of shoppers walking past. Hermione quickly leapt out of her seat and ran out the door. Trusting his friend to deal with any angry people, Harry repaired the glass with his own wand.

“S-sorry Sir.” Alex muttered looking at the ground as he held out the offending wand for him to take.

Harry just waved his apology away with a smirk as he took the wand back and safely stowed it away in its box. “Don’t worry about it, not every wand will be a perfect match and some can react violently. If it makes you feel better I knew that wand would react badly to you, when you started staring at it before you used it.”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up into his hair hearing Harry’s confession. “Then why didn’t you stop me or something?”

“Yes a rather excellent question Alex…” Hermione’s irritated voice snapped out from the front door.

After a quick glance at his friend he could tell that the shoppers outside may have been dealt with but they had obviously not been understanding about it. Hermione was red in the face as though she had been shouting and had her wand in hand.

“…Why didn’t you say something Harry?” she finished tapping her foot.

“Mainly because it happened too fast. The wand I gave you Alex was 12”, made from dogwood and had unicorn hair as its core. That wand is naturally a bit quirky and playful, and I’m going to guess you’ve taken a few pages out of Hermione’s book…” Harry drifted off staring between Hermione and Alex.

“There is nothing wrong with wanting to achieve strong marks, Harry Potter.” Hermione huffed moving back over to her seat.

“I didn’t say there was Hermione but dogwood wands tend to go for somebody with a similar personality to them…random and exciting. If it helps Hermione, think of them as Fred and George in wand form.” Harry said chuckling at his own little joke. He wasn’t sure what wands the troublesome twins owned but dogwood was a good bet.

“I understand.” Alex said nodding his head.

Seeing more confidence return to Alex, Harry returned and began reviewing the labels on the wand boxes. Now that he had a bit of an idea of Alex’s personality it cut down the possible choices. After all he could now eliminate all other dogwood wands from consideration. Despite the fact that each and every wand is different, especially when you consider the core, it was still highly unlikely that any dogwood wand would ever select Alex.

“Excuse me sir, but I was wondering why you didn’t take my measurements…” Alex asked his confidence ebbing away as he spoke as though he wasn’t sure he was allowed to ask questions.

“Basically I’m using the length of your first wand as a guide rather than getting your height. Remember that the only real thing connecting you and your first wand was the length.”

“Oh…but mum said that wand length is important, how can you tell its right?”

“Practice.” Harry replied mysteriously with a slight shrug. Seeing a possible match Harry quickly removed the wand from its box and presented it to Alex much in the same manner Ollivander had to him so many years ago.

It appeared that Alex accepted Harry’s words as he reached for the new wand. Unfortunately the second wand wasn’t much better, along with the third, fourth and fifth attempts.

With the wand boxes piled at his feet a sudden idea swept over Harry. “What house are you in at Hogwarts Alex?”

“I’m a Ravenclaw.” Alex replied looking surprised at his question but Harry was pleased he just answered it.

“What’s about your best subject?”

“At the moment Herbology but Mum says it’s only because of my first wand holding me back in my other classes.” Alex answered blushing.

Harry raised an eyebrow at Alex’s words. Every parent may want their child to be successful but filling their minds with excuses wouldn’t help anyone; there was a real chance that Alex didn’t have much skill in magic and having a proper wand may not help much at all.

“Err…right. Well give this one a try for me.” Harry said feeling confident as he held out a black wand. As Alex’s hand embrace the offered wand, his blue eyes shot open as though he had been hit with a sudden shock of electricity.

“Give it a wave.” Harry suggested already knowing the outcome.

“Hmm..?” Alex muttered his eyes fixed on the wand in his hand. “Oh right sorry.”

Alex gave his wand a swish and a beam of light shot out of his wand effectively illuminating the entire shop to the stage you could see dust particles dancing in the air. As the light ebbed away, Alex was grinning as brightly as the light he had just conjured.

“Congratulations Alex.” Harry said handing the wand’s box over to its new owner.

The young Ravenclaw beamed before stuttering out a thank you and rushing over to show his wand off to his sister and mother.

Hermione smiled and congratulated her son before approaching Harry, leaving Alex to show Victoria his paired wand. “Thank you so much Harry I haven’t seen him this happy in years. Although I am curious what kind of wand is that?”

“Wow, it’s been a while since I’ve heard you admit to not knowing something.” Harry teased sending the brunette an innocent grin.

“Harry…” Hermione started, a reluctant smirk emerging from her lips.

He sighed dramatically seeing Hermione’s children suppress their laughter behind her back. “Nothing has changed…still won’t let me have my fun. His wand is 14” made from ebony and the core was taken from an extremely aggressive female unicorn.”

“I thought unicorns were generally friendly creatures, ‘extremely aggressive’ sounds like an exaggeration. Even if that were true though, would that personality trait change the magical properties of the wand?”

He tried not to smirk as Hermione continued to show her inner Ravenclaw. He always wondered if she had asked the sorting hat to place her in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw, in a similar way he himself did with Gryffindor and Slytherin.

“Okay well first answer is – no I’m not exaggerating. In general unicorns are fairly timid beasts however when collecting your first unicorn hair, I wouldn’t suggest taking Sirius along for the ride.”

“I’m not sure if I want to know but I’ll ask anyway…what did he do?”

Harry grimaced recalling the awful day. “Unfortunately we were following a tip that there were a herd of unicorns in the forest near our home. Sick of some of the shrubbery, Sirius cast a few ‘Diffindos’ and he ended up hitting one of the unicorns with a wayward spell.”

Hermione gasped. “Was it hurt?”

“No it was fine. All he managed to do was make it angry and yet I still had to try and get some hair from its tail. Anyway onto your second question, yes personality traits are a big part of what gives a wand their character. The magical properties of the wand are a combination of what kind of wood is used and how it’s shaped and moulded, the length of a wand and of course the type and personality of the core.” As Hermione opened her mouth to ask another question Harry chuckled. “Hermione remember we still have one more to get a wand for.”

Victoria was standing patiently next to her mother except Harry could tell that she was extremely excited; the way she had started rocking on the heels of her shoes was giving her away. Hermione gave her daughter an approving nod that sent Victoria skipping forward to the middle of the room, where her brother had been standing moments ago.

Harry took out Ollivanders magical tape measure from his pocket and placed it in the palm of his hand. Victoria looked at the old tape measure in confusion as it laid still in his hand until he snapped his fingers; the yellowed tape measure dashed off his hand and started to unroll itself before zooming around to get Victoria’s measurements.

The tape measure was a present from Ollivander when he had completed his training; it had apparently been in his family for generations. While the ancient tape measure completed its task, Harry turned to the frizzy-haired witch in front of him.

“Are you left or right handed Victoria?”

“Left.” Victoria replied as her brown eyes darted around keeping a fascinated watch on the tape measure.

Harry started digging through his two boxes looking for wands that would suit someone left-handed. Once he had Victoria’s complete measurements he started narrowing his selection of wands down even further. Judging by her height and arm length, he knew she would best suit a wand between 10” and 13”.

“Here you go.” Harry said holding out a dark curved wand. “It’s an 11” ebony wand, with a phoenix feather at its core. Rather fantastic at transfiguration.”

Victoria snatched the wand from his outstretched hand and quickly swished it dramatically over her head. While Harry had been in a lot of odd situations in his life, he could usually expect or be prepared for something but in that exact moment he wasn’t. The wand quickly set the wooden floorboards alight just short of Harry’s feet, Victoria let out a shout and dropped the wand as if it had also burnt her while Harry and Hermione smothered the magical fire with water from their wands.

“I’m s-sorry Mr Potter.” Victoria said with her eyes filled with unshed tears.

Once Hermione felt that the fire was out properly and that nobody was hurt, she rounded on her daughter and smothered her in a hug; Harry could make out her whispering soothing things in her ear. It was clear to him that Hermione had taken to motherhood as well as she had taken to magic…by completely acing it.

Harry gave the two a few moments while he turned his own wand on the hole in his shops floor.

“Reparo”

He watched as time reversed for his poor floor, as the wooden boards flew back together and smoothed over. It truly looked as though the incident never happened.

“I’m sorry Mr Potter.” Victoria repeated as she stepped out of her mother’s hug and stared up at Harry.

“Don’t worry about it happens all the time. Now come on we still need to get you a wand.”

Although her earlier enthusiasm had vanished, Victoria nodded and patiently waited for Harry to offer her the next wand.

Unlike her brother who got his wand on the sixth attempt Victoria seemed to be getting frustrated as the pile of wands grew higher; even though Harry and Hermione continued to tell her that it sometimes took a while to find the perfect match, it didn’t seem to ease her irritation.

“Let’s try this combination – Red oak, Phoenix feather, 12.5', It's a rather flexible wand.”

Victoria took the maroon wand in her hand and gave it a swish in front of her causing several golden bubbles to erupt from her wand; each of which began floating around before disappearing with a loud pop.

The young witch took her new wand in hand and spun around to show Hermione and Alex, her earlier excitement returning full force. As Hermione congratulated her daughter on getting her wand, she left the two by the door and approached Harry.

“Thank you so much Harry. You have no idea how much this means to me. After seeing Alex have so much trouble with his wand, I’m relieved that he won’t have to worry about that moving forward or that Victoria never has to. How much do I owe you for the two wands?”

Harry shook his head. “How about we consider the two wands gifts for all the birthdays and Christmas presents they’ve missed out on over the years.”

Hermione quickly wrapped him up in a hug. “On one condition, I want you to come to dinner with my family at our house. I really want the kids to properly get to know you and of course you need to meet my husband.”

“I spose I can come over.” Harry said playfully.

“Great.” Hermione grinned. “How about tonight, maybe at about seven?”

Harry quickly agreed and after promising to be on time and Hermione giving him the floo details, he escorted the Grangers from his shop. Now that he was alone, Harry started to clean and organise his new shop for it wouldn’t be long until he would have to open to the public.

The hours passed until the sun had started to set, causing the light to slowly ebb away making his job harder. Just as he was considering leaving so he had plenty of time to get ready for dinner with Hermione, a loud tapping from his window caught his attention.

Once Harry had opened the window the barn owl quickly swooped in dropped a letter in the middle of the floor before flying back out again. Harry was a little surprised by the owl’s behaviour as normally they waited for the recipient to remove the letter themselves and they usually stuck around for food. Yet this owl barely spent two seconds in his shop before flying back out the window.

Harry closed the window and moved towards the letter on the ground. The envelope had the shop name, Ollivander’s, across the front of it in neat black ink however as he turned it over he nearly dropped it in shock. There was a Ministry seal was on the back. The same Ministry that stuffed around with his life, the same Ministry that allowed itself to be corrupted, was contacting him.

After a moment of deliberation, Harry decided to thrown caution into the wind so he quickly recovered the envelope from his freshly polished floorboards and tore it open.

Dear Mr Ollivander,

Firstly I am very pleased to hear that you are reopening to the British public. I know from personal experience that after the war many people were in desperate need of replacing their wands, not to mention the next generation needing to buy their first wand. I’m sure that once every one hears that you’re reopening your doors people will want an Ollivander wand.

The reason for this letter is actually official Ministry business. Approximately a month ago, the Ministry was made aware of a wizard who had his magical core blocked since he was seven. He had spent his entire life believing himself to be a muggle. It wasn’t until his son received a visit from a Hogwarts staff member that something seemed off. The man has been under the careful eye of a team from St. Mungo’s whilst they removed the dark block on his core.

From my understanding you haven’t opened your doors yet however it has been recommended by his healer, that he needs to start using his magical core. Would it be possible for us to visit and purchase a wand for him?

I appreciate your time and look forward to your response.

Cedric Diggory
Senior Auror

Harry wasn’t sure on how to reply to Cedric’s letter. It had been years since he had seen the ex-Hufflepuff student and if he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t been certain that he was still alive. The last time he had seen Cedric was during the final battle at Hogwarts, it was their teamwork that had taken down Carrow siblings.

Cedric was one of the many people that Harry had wanted to check on after Voldemort was defeated, however thanks to Remus and Sirius never got the chance. He had considered sending an owl to Cedric to try and explain things, Harry had even finished the letter but in the end he chickened out before he could send it. They had been through some crazy times since they first met during Harry’s fourth year; from the Triwizard Tournament to duelling Voldemort and Wormtail before finally fighting side by side with the rest of the order. With their history Harry felt Cedric deserved more than an apology letter.

Allowing his nervousness to take over Harry carefully placed Cedric’s letter into his pocket before heading back to Potter Manor. He still had to get ready for to meet up with Hermione and her family.