Charles
Today was the day. Charles had been bouncy all morning.
His Hogwarts letter was here.
"Congratulations, sweetheart!" Lily exclaimed as she engulfed him in a tight hug, followed by a proud pat on the shoulder by James.
"We'll be going to Diagon today, of course." James added.
Charles bobbed his head up and down, trying not to be too disappointed by the noticeable absences in the kitchen.
Harry and Jéricho, who would be third years now, were over in Egypt with Sirius, on a vacation. This was a new tradition that had started last summer, when Sirius had announced that he was spending very little time with the kids.
As Harry and Jéricho were the oldest, they had gotten the chance to spend three weeks of every summer on a vacation with Sirius, at his next job location before work started. Hopefully, it would be Charles' chance next year.
But Charles got the sense that Sirius liked the older boys more than the other kids. It was very subtle, and Sirius never ignored or neglected any of them, but it was a kind of an unspoken agreement between them. Sirius would take care of Harry, Jéricho, and Lyra when possible. James, Lily, and Remus would look after the rest.
Charles knew that while his parents didn't say anything about this, they weren't too happy that their oldest rarely spent any time with them. He was always either out with his friends, or with Sirius. And it didn't help that almost all his friends were related to Death Eaters. It was the same problem with the Weasley twins.
"When will Ech and Harry be back?" Effie asked as she entered the kitchen. She had two years more to wait.
"Tomorrow, I think." James said, pouting and regretful. "But we can't postpone the trip to Diagon. We won't find much time."
Charles understood. His dad was an auror, and his mum was a freelance potioneer. James was almost always busy at work at the ministry, and Lily was about to go on a rare trip to Albania to collect some potion ingredients with her partner and Charles' godmother, Marlene.
So they went to Diagon the next day to buy supplies for Charles along with the Longbottoms, seeing as Remus couldn't come due to the earlier night being a full moon.
"Hey, Charles!" Neville greeted him.
Charles grinned at him. "Nev! It's great to see you."
Neville was a clumsy and forgetful boy who had not quite gotten rid of his baby fat yet. He was decent enough, and a good friend of Charles', but they weren't that close. Charles' best friend was Ron.
"Charles," Augusta, the strict grandmother of Neville's called out, "Where are your manners?"
Blushing red, Charles huffed and faked a painful smile as he resolutely ignored James' smothered sniggers and kissed the old lady's hand. "Greetings, Lady Longbottom."
Augusta nodded in satisfaction. "Good. See that you do not forget next time."
"Lily!" James clapped his hands. "Why don't you and Alice take Augusta to get school supplies? And by all means, take the youngsters with you. I'll go with Frank, Charles, Lyra, and Neville and get their robes."
Lily narrowed her eyes dangerously at her husband, while Alice shot Frank a reproachful look, but Augusta clicked her fingers. "Excellent idea, James. Come, Lily. Alice, dear."
The ones left behind were cackling.
Lyra sighed. "I wish Dad was here."
"It's alright, dear." James placated her. "Siri was quite upset, and he's promised you a surprise when he's back."
"I know." Lyra sighed. "It's just... I can't wait to go with him on his tour next summer onwards."
Charles wanted to say 'Me too', but kept his mouth shut because he still wasn't sure if he would be invited along. Lyra was Charles' female best friend, but they weren't as close as they used to be since Ron came along. Apparently, Lyra found him unhealthy and rude, and didn't approve Charles' friendship with him. She said that she found the other Weasleys fine, but that he and Percy were too annoying.
Charles didn't need her approval, and he told her so. Since then, Lyra had taken to avoiding him altogether when he was with Ron. That annoyed him to no end, because he rather valued Lyra's friendship. But there was nothing to be done. Besides, Ron did nothing to help the situation. He openly acknowledged his distaste for Lyra, calling her 'stuck-up'. Charles had put a stop to it mostly, but he controlled no one, so the rift was still there.
They went to Madam Malkins' for their robes, as none of them insisted on the best products, unlike Jéricho. The two adults decided to wander around as the children went inside. There, a blond was already getting fitted.
"Black." he sneered as they got closer.
"Malfoy." she returned the favor.
"And who might you be?"
"A friend." Lyra quickly responded before Charles could get a chance to open his mouth.
"Letting a girl do all your talking? Can't speak?" Malfoy smugly goaded him. Charles glared at him but remained silent. He didn't want to ruin the pompous boy's surprise, now, did he? Lyra simply rolled her eyes at Malfoy and they ignored him altogether, which seemed to agitate him quite much.
An hour later, all of them were reunited in front of a narrow and shabby shop, with peeling gold letters over the door that read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.
A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Augusta sat on to wait, with the others crowding near the door. Charles felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library. He swallowed and looked at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Charles jumped. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.
"Hello," said Charles awkwardly.
"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Charles Potter. Lyra Black. Neville Longbottom." It wasn't a question. Then he looked up at his parents. "Lily Evans. Ten and a quarter inches, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
Lily smiled politely. "Yes, well, it's Potter now." Mr. Ollivander tilted his head in acknowledgment. Charles wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. "James Potter. Mahogany, eleven inches, pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. It's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."
Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Charles now were almost nose to nose. Charles could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.
"And that's where..."
Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Charles' forehead with a long, white finger. From the corner of his eye, Charles could see his father take a step forward, but Lily stopped him.
"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do...."
He shook his head. "Who to do first?"
"Lyra can go, can't she?" Frank forced out in a falsely cheerful voice.
Charles quickly stood to the side with Neville, watching on. Mr. Ollivander nodded. "Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"
Lyra held out her right hand.
Mr. Ollivander measured her from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and round her head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Ms. Black. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."
As the measuring was done, he said, "Right then, Ms. Black. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."
Just as Lyra waved it, Mr. Ollivander snatched it back. "No, no... Try this... Ebony wood, with unicorn hair. Whippy, thirteen inches long."
A bulb exploded. The next wand presented to her was ten inches, mahogany, with a thunderbird tail feather. That suited her. According to Mr. Ollivander, the wand was supposed to be excellent for transfiguration (much to James' pleasure) and quite active, able to sense danger, and sometimes acted independently.
Neville already had an inherited wand, which Mr. Ollivander was disapproving about, so it was next Charles' turn. After thirty minutes of waiting and blasting shelves and vases, finally Mr. Ollivander presented a perfect wand, which glowed in Charles' hand.
"Curious... very curious..."
"Excuse me, but what's curious?" Charles inquired.
Mr. Ollivander fixed him with his pale stare.
"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather -- just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar."
Charles swallowed.
"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things -- terrible, yes, but great."
Charles shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. They paid seven galleons each for his and Lyra's wands, and Mr. Ollivander bowed them from his shop.