chapter three
The next few stops were pretty straight forward, potion ingredients(which he got double the required amount of), equipment like a cauldron, vials, a telescope and brass scales and finally, when he got to the books, Hagrid rejoined him. Harry got all the required books plus a few more. “A history of hogwarts”, “a quick summary of wizarding traditions” and “how to live in the magical world, a guide for those of muggle descent”, just things that could be helpful to know.
Harry went to madam malkins' alone, Hagrid getting the both of them an ice cream cone whilst he was measured. Inside the shop, there was another boy getting measured. He was pale with gray eyes and platinum blonde hair. He looked sickly and underfed, much like Harry but he didn’t hold himself like Harry, there was a sense of pride and superiority to him that someone who’d been abused as Harry had been wouldn’t have.
“Going to Hogwarts too?”, the pale boy asked
“yeah”, Harry nodded, “what house do you think you’ll be in?”
“Probably Slytherin, though no one can be sure, of course. My family has been in Slytherin for generations”, the boy boasted, “I’m Draco, by the way, Draco Malfoy”
“I’m Harry, Harry Potter”
“Blimey, are you really?”
He just gave a silent nod.
“Well, where have you been all this time, no one was able to find you in all these years and any mail send to you was send back”
“Really? I was with my muggle relatives”
“Muggle relatives? Who thought it a good idea to put you with some filthy muggles? Does that mean you don’t know anything about our world”, he sounded offended.
“Nope, but I picked up a few books on the subject”
“Good, good”, Draco muttered, before turning back to him, “If you ever need any help with anything, you just have to tell me, I am more than ready to help you”
“Thanks”
Just then, Madam Malkins called Draco to her, saying she was done. So Harry was left alone, waiting to be called up as well. So there he pondered what house he would be in. Draco had seemed so certain about being in Slytherin. He knew his parents were in gryffindor, so maybe he would be put there as well, though none of the houses sounded all too bad. He just didn’t want to be in slytherin for the simple reason that that had been the house of you know who. It just didn’t feel right to be in the same house that his parent’s murderer was in. Other than that, he was open to all sortings that may happen, be that Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.
Once the fitting was done, Harry walked out, where Hagrid sat on a bench with two ice cream cones, which looked comically small in his hands. Hagrid’s portion was chocolate and nuts whilst Harry’s was Strawberry and vanilla. He’d never liked chocolate, though he also never got any. Chocolate was something that Dudley enjoyed massively, which meant Harry couldn’t get any. Not that he was sad about that, like he said, chocolate wasn’t his thing. Hot chocolate on the other hand, that was divine. Sometimes, when he went over to Mrs. Figg, he would get hot chocolate in the winter time.
After eating their ice cream, they went to the last stop of their day, the wand shop Ollivander’s.
The store was small and dusty, filled with large boxes wall to wall and a counter, behind which an old man sat, looking through a magazine. As they entered, a bell rang, alerting the wizard behind the counter to their arrival. He looked first at Hagrid, smiling softly, “Ah, Rubeus, Oak, 16 inches long. They snapped it if I remember right?”
“Yes, I still have the parts though”, Hagrid almost boasted.
“But you don’t use them anymore right?”
Hagrid looked nervous and gripped his umbrella tighter, “no, sir, not one bit”
Then Ollivander(at least Harry assumed it was ollivander), turned to face Harry, “Ah, and you must be young Harry. I remember the day your mother came to me the first time to get her wand, Willow, 10 ¼ inches long, though your father favored his mahogany wand, 11 inches, excellent for transfiguration with a bit more power than your mother’s. Well, I say he favored the wand but really, it is the wand that chooses the wizard, not the other way around. Now let’s see what wand you will get shall we? What is your wand hand?”
“I’m right handed”, he responded weakly, as mr. Ollivander got to measure him. And it wasn’t just his height but also the distance between his ears, from armpit to elbow, from left eye to right nostril and so on and so forth. It took quite some time and at one point, the measuring tape continued to float and measure him by itself.
First he handed Harry a white wand, “Yew with dragon heartstring, 10 inches, give it a swing”
Upon swinging the wand rather lacklusterly, a bookshelf near where he pointed imploded under the weight of all the boxes it was sitting on.
“It seems not… how about this one then… Holly and Unicorn hair, 8 ¾ inches”
He was given the new wand but almost immediately, it was snatched from his person, without him even swinging it.
“No… no… not that one either”, the old man muttered.
Harry was handed a few more wands -most of which were taken away almost immediately- before he got hold of a simple wooden wand with a handle that resembled tree bark, “Holly and phoenix feather, 11 inches, a rather peculiar combination, one you don’t see often”
As soon as his fingers met the wood, he knew that this would be his wand, there was a rush of flaming hot energy rushing through his being and power surged from the wand. Sparkles of gold and silver flew from the tip of the wand.
“How peculiar… how very strange…”
“Strange sir?”, Harry asked.
Ollivander was looking into the distance as he told him, “I remember every wand I have ever sold. That wand that chose you, the phoenix that gave the feather for its core, gave one other feather, just one and the wand made from that feather just so happened to be the same one that gave you that scar”
“It was Voldemort- I mean you know who’s wand?” Harry eyed the wand wearily, afraid of the thing that just gave him the best feeling in the world.
“Yes but not to worry, the wand doesn’t make the wizard the wizard makes the wand”
Immediately, Harry relaxed, appeased by that explanation, though still a bit weary of the core.