A/N: Disclaimer: I got very excited about this and I have a lot of ideas, but I'm just an average college student with very little time and very little sleep. I will make an effort to post regularly (maybe every week) but I really have no clue how I will be able to keep this up so... Bear with me.
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James Potter pulled his cloak tighter around himself and made his way up the path, humming to himself as he drew closer to the castle. It was nearly midnight, and there were no students in sight, though James knew that not all is as it seems. He himself was quite a troublemaker as a kid, thanks to an artefact that he was actually about to drop off with Dumbledore. The older wizard had asked to see it, and though James felt rather attached to his father's old invisibility cloak, he saw no harm in lending to Dumbledore for a while - there was no one more trustworthy than Dumbledore. After all, it was he who told Lily and James that they should go into hiding, and it was he who cast the Fidelius charm for them.
James thought about Lily for a moment. She was probably already in bed, having put little Harry to sleep. It was Halloween - just a few hours before they had dressed Harry in an adorable little ghost costume, and they had let him zoom around on his toy broomstick laughing while a big fire roared in the fireplace. They hadn't gone out trick or treating of course, but it had been a sweet family gathering, and James loved those little moments when it was just them. He loved his friends, and he was quite the life of the party, but those quiet moments with just Harry and Lily were something he treasured. Despite going into hiding, he was still a very active member of the Order of the Phoenix and so he wasn't able to relax and enjoy his family very often.
James reached the headmaster's office, uttered the password and stepped inside. Dumbledore was bent over his desk shaking, holding a smoking parchment in his hand. There were tears streaming down his face, and he rose hurriedly at the sound of James' footsteps.
"Dumbledore! What happened? Has there another attack?" James understood immediately that something was wrong. There had already an attack the day before, and there had been many over the past months, but he had never seen Dumbledore in such a state.
Dumbledore stood, wiping his face with a silk handkerchief from his pocket. "My dear man," he said. "I'm terribly sorry to tell you this, but there's been an attack in Godric's Hollow. I just got the news – I'm afraid Lily is no longer with us, and I'm afraid Harry may not be with us either. I was about to go, but I knew you were coming here. Shall we go together?"
James stood there in shock. Lily. His wife. His favourite person in the whole world, the mother of his child, the one who always fixed anything he messed up. The one he would do anything for. He would have died for her, but he couldn't. He couldn't even die, because he wasn't there. He should have been home. He should have kept her safe. He was an auror for god's sake. It was his job to protect people. He couldn't even protect his own family.
Dumbledore shook his arm. "James," he said gently. "Your son might still be there."
James looked up with a wild look in his eye, "Let's go," he said hoarsely.
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Harry Potter was seven years old the first time he made the hands on the clock turn. He was sitting in his father's study, reading another one of his assigned books - a big fat leather one from the Potter Library on Potions - when he stared at the clock and just wished it would show five pm already so that his Dad would let him go play a little before dinner. Suddenly the hands of the clock moved all on their own to show five pm. Harry looked around the study, delighted. He slowly closed the book and lowered himself from the leather armchair he had been reading in. He tiptoed to the desk where his father was working and slid the book onto it. Harry began walking slowly and evenly towards the door, trying to suppress the smile that was inching across his face. He reached out his hand -
"Harry." The voice was stern. Harry turned around to see his father looking down at him from behind his big desk. "Where do you think you are going?"
Harry shifted nervously. "Well um you see Dad it's just a small matter that um the clock you see um it uhh..." Harry trailed off.
His father looked up at the clock, and then back at Harry. "You didn't leave the chair the whole time, did you?"
Harry shook his head.
A slow smile spread across James' face. "Take a seat Harry, we have much to discuss. You see, I think you've grown up quite a bit. I think you just did your first bit of magic."
Harry blinked in surprise. His father was looking at him with a look of pride that he had only seen a handful of times before.
Harry smiled shyly, but shook his head. "I didn't do anything Dad, I just um," Harry paused awkwardly, "I just wanted to be done already and I thought it would be the best if the clock just moved and then it did."
Harry's Dad looked at him with a thoughtful expression. "For now Harry, until you can control your magic a little better, whenever you manage to get the clock to move you can go play early."
Harry looked at his dad in disbelief. His father never let him play. Ever. He could only play for maybe an hour a day, and that was only if he read everything and did all his exercises and somehow managed to finish a little early. His father was the strictest parent he knew – even Neville's gran let him play more than Harry's dad let him. Before his father could change his mind, Harry jumped off the armchair and ran out the door.He ran down the hall, scaring Elky the house-elf. He slid down the railing and did a somersault, arriving in the entrance hall with giggle and a hop. He took off towards the kitchens, nabbing a pastry and a drink before setting off to the great outdoors.
It was the beginning of spring, and the ground was hard beneath Harry's feet as he held out his hands and took a deep breath of the fresh, cool air. It was early afternoon, and Harry marvelled at his good luck, chewing on his pastry as he tried to decide how to spend his newfound freedom. A whole afternoon. That was a lot. He could beg Elky to take him to Neville, but she would ask Dad, and Dad might get annoyed at him and stop his fun. Dad didn't like it when Harry left the estate. He could work on his treehouse, but that was hard, and he just wanted to bask in the sun...
Harry plopped down beneath one of the willow trees. The gardener had told him that at Hogwarts, they had a willow that hit and smashed things. Harry shivered with excitement. Imagine! What an amazing school. The stories he heard about it... Well, he didn't hear that many stories. His dad didn't talk a lot about his school days. Remus and Sirius though, they told some really funny ones. To look at his father, you'd think all he did was sit around and study, but if any of Sirius's stories were true, then they were quite the troublemakers! Although to be honest, it was hard to tell if Sirius was telling the truth sometimes. One story he told all the time was about some kid named Snivellous - and Harry couldn't believe anyone would really name their kid that. That was just absurd.
"Snivellous," Harry said aloud.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw something slither from under a bush. He scooted to the side hurriedly – he knew there were snakes on the grounds. His father had warned him not to sit next to any snake holes and to stay very still if he saw a snake, but of course he only remembered that now.
A garden snake slithered around the trunk of the tree that he had been leaning against, slowly climbing into the bushes next to the tree. It was mesmerizing, and Harry's breath caught.
"Beautiful," he breathed, staring in fascination at the black and yellow body as it moved, coiling and uncoiling.
"Not too bad yoursssself," hissed the snake.
Harry fell over in astonishment. "You can talk?" he exclaimed when he regained his composure.
"You can talk young one. You are a ssssspeaker," the snake hissed, its body already disappearing from view.
"Wait, come back!" Harry hissed desperately. "What's your name?"
"Ssage."
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Harry sat in his father's study, desperately trying to make a light appear out of nothing. He had already done his physical training for the day, ran laps around the property and lifted weighted bars in the training room and practiced his hand to hand combat. He had read his assigned reading from the Potter Library, continuing his study of a specific type of potions, and now he just had to do his final task before his night-time routine: practice magic. For a wizard, Harry did an awful lot of non-magical things, and it was by the time he sat down to do anything real, he was all tired out from everything he had been doing all day.
Harry also thought it was unfair that he didn't have a wand. As he pondered the nature of the spell, Harry asked his father for the umpteenth time, "Dad, when am I getting a wand?"
"When you're ten," James answered without looking up. "You need to learn how to use magic without being tied down to a wand first. Besides, you've done magic without a wand before."
"But I'm only eight," Harry whined. "That's in forever."
"Good," said James. "Then you better be a pro at wandless magic by then or else I may reconsider."
Harry gulped.
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Harry stood in his father's study, feeling nervous. His dad said he would be testing him, and Harry knew that his father was serious about tests. He was a pretty stern guy. Suddenly, the room went dark. Harry felt ropes wrap around him, rooting him to the spot but leaving his arms free.
"Alright Harry, your test has started. Your first task is to free yourself." Harry heard his father's voice from behind him.
Harry took a breath and waved his arms the way he was used to. "Lumos!"
A light appeared in the center of the ceiling, bathing the room in light. Harry looked down at the ropes, examining them. They seemed to be made out of fabric, but Harry had a feeling that they were conjured, not summoned. He had learned the difference only recently. "Finite incantatem!"
The ropes rolled off of him and disappeared into thin air. Harry turned to see his father leaning against the doorpost of the study. James straightened and entered the room, moving to stand behind his desk and observing his son. "Nicely done. Stupefy!"
"Protego!" Harry's hand shot up, but he didn't even flinch, and his shield charm surrounded him immediately. The spell bounced off harmlessly.
James raised an eyebrow.
"Levicorpus!" Harry shouted, realizing he was meant to show what he was capable of.
The spell barely left his hand before James brushed it aside.
"Rictumsempra!" Harry was thinking wildly now. He didn't know very many duelling spells. All the ones he knew were either too strong for him to think of using on his own father or not intended for duelling, like the spell to make clothes smell good. The spell, like the one before, did nothing.
"Expelliarmus!" Harry yelled it almost in desperation. He hadn't prepared for this; he'd thought his father would give him a series of tasks and that when it would be over, he could go to Neville's house or something.
Harry's father held up his hands, and Harry lowered his own.
"Enough," said his father. "You've done well. You've convinced me that you can think on your feet, and that is far more useful than the ability to memorize a million spells. Now, I think you are finally ready to receive your first wand."
Harry looked up in surprise. "What? I'm not ten for another three months. I mean, I'm not arguing, I'm totally not arguing. Yeah let's go!"
Harry's father chuckled. "Elky!"
POP*
The old house-elf appeared beside the desk. "Yes sir James sir."
"Prepare my cloak, and get the boy ready. We're going to Diagon Alley."
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The Alley was full of life, people of all sorts filling the crowded streets. There were women with swirling pendants, hags smoking pipes with awful smelling smoke, little boys batting a quaffle back and forth, merchants yelling about their wares, men hurrying this way in that in every color of bright robes. They passed the Potions shop and Harry peeked in, trying to get a glimpse of Felix Felicis, a potion he'd been studying about extensively. They passed the pet shop, the apothecary, Madam Malkin's, and even Quality Quidditch Supplies.
Harry had been to the Alley only once before, but he remembered it vividly, and now his eyes feasted on all the storefronts he remembered. His father didn't like taking him out in public, because people always wanted to shake Harry's hand and ask for his autograph, and it made doing anything rather difficult. Harry understood, but he wished people would leave him alone a little bit- he just wanted to stare at the newest broomsticks with everyone else and buy silly things at the joke shop and eat enormous ice-cream sundaes at Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. As Harry expected though, they didn't do any of those things. Instead, they headed directly to their destination: Ollivander's.
Stepping through the door to a gentle chime, Harry felt a shiver go down his spine. The store was quiet, dusty, with his father silent beside him. They waited. The store was filled with stacks and stacks of thin boxes, all the way to the ceiling in rows and rows. There must have been several thousand wands in there, at least.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.
"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.
"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
Harry looked over at his father, who remained emotionless. His face was blank, polite, like he had only the faintest interest in what was being said.
Mr Ollivander moved closer to Harry. "Your father, on the other hand, favours a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favours it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."
Mr Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.
"And that's where …"
Mr Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.
"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 …"
''Well, now – Mr Potter. Let me see.'' He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. ''Which is your wand arm?''
Harry looked over at his dad. "Well, um. Both."
"Both?" Ollivander looked at him in surprise. "That's quite rare Mr. Potter. Are you claiming to be ambidextrous?"
Harry's father stepped forward. "It is Harry's ambition to be able to cast equally with both arms. Although I'm sure that with your expertise, you've certainly made a wand for someone ambidextrous before?"
Mr. Ollivander gave Harry's father a long, piercing look. "Well well, we shall make an effort to find what suits young Mr. Potter the best. Wandlore has been in my family for generations you see, we've catered to every kind of wizard. I'm certain we'll find something for Mr. Potter.
"Hold out both arms then. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr Potter. 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."
Harry suddenly realised that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, taking down boxes.
"That will do,' he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."
Harry took the wand and, feeling foolish, waved it around a bit, but Mr Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once.
Harry tried another – but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr Ollivander.
"No, no – here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."
Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become.
"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not – unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple, suited for ambidextrous casting."
Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the wall. Mr Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well ... how curious ... how very curious …"
He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious ... curious …"
"Sorry," said Harry, "but what's curious?"
Mr Ollivander fixed Harry 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."
Harry 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."
"Get the boy another wand." Harry's father spoke in a decisive, flat tone.
Mr. Ollivander looked up in surprise. "But Mr. Potter, the wand choses the wizard, and this wand chose young Harry. That wand won't bond with another, it is meant for him."
"I'll pay for both." Harry's father was irritated. "We have no way of knowing what that means Mr. Ollivander. I don't know if this wand is an asset or a liability, but I know that I want my son to have every protection he can get, and if that means another wand then by all means, get him another wand!"
Mr. Ollivander seemed shocked at the outburst. He began murmuring to himself, pacing back and forth, until finally he returned to the shelves and began pulling wands out.
"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try- "
Harry picked up wand after wand, feeling distressed. He didn't want another wand, he already found one, and now he felt miserable. Knowing his father, he would have to train with both wands, and that sounded like a pain. He felt kind of bad for Mr. Ollivander, but he was at least happy to be alone in the shop- it would have been so embarrassing if people had heard that he had a wand with the same core as You-know-who and especially if people had seen his dad get upset.
"Holly and dittany, ten and a half inches, perfect for healing spells -"
Harry picked up the wand and felt a cool relief run up his arm and through his body, relaxing every muscle he hadn't realized was taut. Harry felt refreshed, like he'd slept for a week and woken up to his favourite breakfast. He smiled, and Mr. Ollivander quickly took the wand from him and placed it in a box.
"Well, Mr. Potter, it appears we have a young healer on our hands. With a second wand that is so suited for duelling, I suppose it shouldn't come as a surprise that his second wand should fulfil a complementary role. I've told you before and I'll tell you again, no two wands are the same! I should warn you, that you should not try to use both wands in the same fashion! Some spells will work better with one wand as opposed to the other... It would be a fool's mission to try and change that."
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James Potter stood in his study, observing his son with a troubled expression on his face. "Sit," he said finally.
Harry took a seat. He felt vaguely as though he was in trouble, but he couldn't imagine what for. Admittedly, the trip to Diagon Alley hadn't gone quite according to plan, but then, it hadn't turned out all that terribly either. He now had two wands, which was double the normal number of wands, but so what – aurors had more than one wand. He knew his dad had at least two if not more, and it actually kind of made sense that he would have another one. A backup.
Harry's father sighed. "We learned two things from our trip to Diagon Alley, Harry. We learned that you have another connection to He-who-must-not-be-named, and that worries me greatly. There's a reason why a wand chooses a wizard Harry, it is not random, and I don't know anything about the way brother wands interact. It's a rare phenomenon; phoenixes usually only give one feather. I suspect that Ollivander will do lots of research over the next few days. I will speak to Dumbledore myself on the matter, to see if the wand is safe to use."
Harry waited.
"The second thing we discovered, is that you have an affinity for healing. I had no idea that you had such a talent – I had planned to teach you only the basics of field work and emergency healing spells, but now that we know this, we will have to adjust out study plans. I will come up with a new curriculum for you, perhaps I can bring in a healer from St. Mungo's to teach you several times a week. We don't have much time until you go to Hogwarts, and as far as I am aware there is no Healing elective in Hogwarts. For now, I expect you to practice all spells with both wands and without, and to put extra focus on healing potions. We will speak more later."
Harry nodded and stood. He headed to the training room, which he usually used for exercise, because he knew his father wouldn't appreciate him reading in the study right then. Besides, he wanted to try a blasting curse with his new phoenix wand.
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"Sage," Harry whispered.
It was late afternoon, and Harry was spent. He had had the time of his life shooting off blasting curses with the phoenix wand, left handed and right handed and with his eyes closed, but when he tried the same thing with the dittany wand it was so much harder. He had to focus, it was as though the wand was forcing him to think of detail, to take into consideration where each chunk of cement would fly and how the blasting curse would rip through the blocks. He had to be precise and calculated in a way that probably could cause an even greater level of destruction, but that didn't allow for the same release he felt when firing away with the phoenix wand. It had taken him a while to understand the dittany wand, and he had had to think before casting about the force of the spell, the direction and the surroundings in a way that made him far more serious about the consequences of the spell before casting it.
Harry had just begun to question why people used wands at all. After all, magic was possible without wands, and depending on one too much was what got many a wizard killed. Now though, Harry felt an understanding dawning; it wasn't only that you needed less concentration to achieve more precise results, it was also a mastery of the art of magic that came from channelling it through a wand, using the refinement a wand offered.
The garden snake slithered out from under the bush. "Yesss young sssir, what isss it?"
"Well," Harry began. "I thought I had a lot of work to do before I start school, but now I realize that I have to do a lot more than I thought. Almost double, to be honest. I don't know how I'm going to keep up when I get to school – everyone else will only have to learn everything once, but I'll have to learn it two or maybe three times! I know I'm probably ahead right now because nobody else is learning, but when I get to Hogwarts they are going to catch up pretty quickly. Even now I don't have time for friends, imagine in school!"
Sage cocked his head. "Well ssssir, we ssssnakessss don't have anything sssssimilar, but I thinksss that you should go now to sssssee ssssssome friendsss. The future will wait."
Harry lay back on the hard ground. "You're great Sage. Tell me a story about when you were little."
Sage slithered closer to Harry and wrapped himself around Harry's wrist. "When I wassss a young sssnake, I had never caught a mouse before. I wasss ambitiousss and I watched an areasss where I knew mice passsed by..."
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"Master Harry! Dinner is served in the dining room!" Elky anounced.
Harry glanced down at the little old house-elf. "Be there in a minute," he said. "Is anyone joining us tonight?"
"Remus is here tonight," Elky answered.
Harry quickly closed the potions book he had been reading and got up, straightening his shirt and nearly running out to the railing. His father's best friends, Remus and Sirius, were two of his favorite people in the world. They brought him presents and talked to him as though he was a grown up, and they made dinners so lively and enjoyable. Harry loved his father, but he could be strict at times and he was often almost too serious. When his friends were there, Harry's father suddenly came back to life and became light-hearted and loving in an easy-going way that Harry yearned for. It was hard to be so intense all the time.
Harry stopped for a moment at the top of the stairs. Remus had just arrived, and Harry's father was giving him a hug and taking his coat. The pair exchanged a few words that Harry couldn't hear, and they turned to see him standing on the railing.
"Heya there Harry, come on down!" Remus called, waving to him.
Harry scurried down and ran into Remus, who lifted him up in the air (or tried to – Harry was getting a bit big for that). "My my, how you've grown!" Remus exclaimed, ruffling Harry's hair playfully.
"Hey!" Harry complained, pushing away Remus's hand. "You were just here last week, nothing much happened since then."
"Really?" Remus joked. "What are those sticks in your waistband then?"
"Oh Remus! They're my new wands!" Harry said excitedly. He took them out to show Remus. "See, this one is phoenix feather and this one is dittany, they're both holly, and we got them at Ollivander's-"
"Wait, wait, what? You have two wands?" Remus turned to James. "Come on James, don't tell me you already got him a back up wand just in case." Remus rolled his eyes.
"Are you calling me overprotective?" James asked jokingly. "Come, let's go into the dining room and we can tell you the whole story."
They moved into the dining room, where Elky had outdone herself with a delicious dinner and a beautifully set table. There were even candles lit and a single rose rested in a thin vase on the table. Remus laughed when he saw it.
"James, I think Elky is hinting something to you," Remus winked suggestively at James.
James elbowed Remus. "Don't even bring it up. You can bring a girl home if you like, I'll wear my best robes to your wedding- but I've got a kid to look after."
"I wouldn't mind if you had a girlfriend," Harry piped up. "It might be nice to have a girl around. You might even take a bath sometime." Harry giggled and jumped away from his father before his father could smack him.
"You watch your mouth young man!" said James in an unconvincingly threatening tone. "Now why don't you sit down and tell Remus about the trouble you're in."
Harry sat down and rolled his eyes. "I'm not in trouble Remus, Dad is just being dramatic. Mr. Ollivander said some weird stuff about my first wand, and dad freaked and demanded that I get another wand in case the first one is sketchy, so now I have two perfectly good wands." Harry shrugged and began piling his plate with potatoes and roast beef.
Remus looked intruiged. "What did Ollivander say about your first wand?"
"Ollivander said that the core of Harry's phoenix wand is the twin of another wand, the wand that He-who-must-not-be-named used before he disappeared. I don't know what that means, but I wanted to be sure that Harry had another wand to rely on in case that one caused him problems later on," Harry's father spoke up, his tone serious once again. "I spoke to Dumbledore, but if the man knows anything on the matter, he didn't share."
Remus looked surprised at that. "He didn't at least say whether Harry should use it?"
"Oh that he did," James replied thoughtfully. "He said that Harry should use it, that it may yet be an advantage. After all, He-who-must-not-be-named has no idea that this has happened. We have an element of surprise to our benefit."
Harry looked up. "It won't be much of a surprise to anyone if I go to school and use two wands all the time. What will I tell people? Oh yeah the dark lord might return any minute and just to be safe I have two wands," Harry took a breath. "I just feel like I might end up being known as the kid who has more wands than he can handle."
The two men looked at him for a moment. Remus took a drink from his wineglass and then cleared his throat. "Well kiddo, I think you'll probably be known you know, for being the Boy Who Lived and whatnot. You're right though, kids will notice if you have two wands in your pocket. Maybe you should get an invisible holster – your wands are similar enough, didn't you say they are both holly? I think as long as you don't switch between them in a way that is really obvious people won't need to know."
James nodded in agreement. "I'll pick up an undetectable holster from the office next time I go in. Is that alright buddy?"
Harry nodded and helped himself to more food. His father and Remus discussed other matters and Harry lost interest, eating and thinking about his upcoming time at Hogwarts. His eyelids were just beginning to droop when his father called his name.
"Harry!" said his father, "go get into pyjamas, and remember to do your Occlumency drills before you go to sleep. I will know if you skip them."
Harry stood up sleepily and yawned. "Alright Dad, I'm going."
As Harry headed out the door he heard Remus ask in a light voice, "Don't you think you push the boy too hard?"
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A week had passed, and Harry was standing before his father's desk. His father was writing a report, and Harry was waiting to be acknowledged. It took several minutes, but finally his father lay down his quill and looked up.
"What is it, Harry?" asked his father.
"Well, you see, um," Harry fidgeted in his place. "I've been working really really hard over the past couple of weeks and I would really like it if I could pretty please -"
"Do you want to go to Neville's house?" James asked almost impatiently.
Harry smiled. "Yes please."
Harry's father looked him over. He had been exceptionally good, especially with the shock of the double workload. James had to admit, his son was holding up far better than he had expected. It was only right that the kid should get to have some down time.
"Alright Harry, I'll send Elky over to see if it's a good time, and if it is, she'll take you."
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"What, you got a wand already?" Neville's voice was full of awe. "Let me see it, let me see it!"
Harry reached into his waistband and pulled out his dittany wand. His phoenix one was tucked away in his invisible holster. Since the phoenix one was the one Ollivander had had so much to say about, Harry's father had decided that it should be the one not to be introduced to people.
"Ollivander told me it's a special healing wand," Harry confided, handing it to Neville. "I didn't even know there were special types of wands before I got it. I definitely wasn't interested in healing."
Neville looked at him, impressed. "That must mean you have a special healing ability! Are you going to get special classes? I know you will. Knowing your dad, you probably do already."
Harry shrugged. "My dad said he would see if a healer from St. Mungo's could come teach me, but there isn't that much time left until we go to Hogwarts. My father is really annoyed that there isn't a Healing elective in school, he's going to speak to Dumbledore about it. Maybe I'll get special classes."
Neville chuckled. "Yeah, I'm sure Dumbledore will do it. He loves your dad. He would teach you himself if he was any good at healing."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked. "He's the greatest wizard of our time. Of course he's good at healing, he's got to be!"
"Oh emergency healing probably, like all the aurors, but not real long-term healing. Only healers who do that full time have any kind of idea about that." Neville looked a little shy, "My parents talk about it a lot, how the healers helped them a great deal after they were tortured. They are pretty grateful to your dad, too."
Now it was Harry's turn to feel uncomfortable. "Well, yeah, but my dad was on a mad quest to track down any and every Death Eater he could find. Your parents did him a favour, really, by having four Death Eaters attack them at once. My dad was thrilled to catch them red handed... It's just good he managed to get there before they caused any permanent damage."
The two boys sat in silence for a moment, contemplating the ways a war they couldn't comprehend had bound their lives together.
"Want to play some Quidditch?" Neville suggested, finally breaking the silence.
Harry's eyes lit up. "Oh yeah! I almost never get to play! Do you have a broom I can borrow?"
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Harry was sitting in the Potter Library, waiting. He could hear his father speaking in the hall, and a soft voice answering, but he couldn't quite make out the words. He would finally have his first lessons on Healing, and it was about time, too; he only had half a year left until he went to Hogwarts. The lessons would take place in the Library because, well, it would disturb his father if they held the lessons in the study, and the Library was just as good as anywhere else.
Harry's father entered the room. A pleasant-looking, skinny young man entered the room behind him, wearing plain work robes and holding a spellbook in one hand and a wand in the other.
"This is Connor Bell, he's a young healer who works at St. Mungo's. He's agreed to tutor you on the topic, certainly until you begin Hogwarts, and we'll see from there," Harry's father introduced Connor, who gave a smile and a small wave. "I'll leave you to get started."
Connor sat down across from Harry with another smile. "Hey there. I hear you have something of an affinity for healing. Want to tell me about it?"
Harry took out his wand. "I got this wand at Ollivander's - it's holly with a dittany core. Ollivander mentioned that that probably means that I have some kind of affinity for healing, but I never even gave healing any kind of thought before that. It is interesting I suppose, but I have no idea. I've never tried a healing spell in my life."
Connor looked thoughtful. "That is interesting I suppose. You've done healing potions though, haven't you?"
Harry smiled. "I do a lot of reading, I have ever since I could read. I've been focusing on potions for the past two and a half years now, and I've focused more on healing ones since I got my wand, but I know a lot in... theory. I haven't actually made any potions."
Connor looked surprised at that. "Well, I suppose you're still a kid. Don't worry, you'll have time to make plenty of potions once you get to Hogwarts. I have a sister who is in her fist year now, she'll be just a year above you when you go. But anyway, for now I think our best bet would be for me to teach you some simple healing spells, and we'll see how well you take to them. Maybe I can give you some books on the theory as well.
"Alright, I say we start with a spell called Episkey," Connor began. "It's a real handy one for broken noses or fingers, it can work really well on a split lip. The focus you should have while casting it is to mend what was broken, to restore it to its original place and have the bone set and the skin grow over it to restore its appearance. The force you put into the spell isn't much – it's meant to be gentle, finding the fine edges and melding them back together in a flowing, soothing way. This spell usually has immediate results, it doesn't need to be cast over an amount of time, so it can be difficult to say the incantation quickly while focusing on a gentle flow of magic. The wand motion is as follows," Connor held up his wand to demonstrate.
Harry was fascinated. The details the Connor was addressing were just the details that his wand seemed to direct him to notice, and Harry was excited to give it a try. "Connor, I really want to give it a try but um, how am I supposed to practice? I did notice that you don't have any broken fingers."
Connor grinned. "I don't have any broken fingers... yet." He cast several spells in quick succession, and suddenly his left hand was limp. With a sickening CRACK one of his fingers suddenly stuck out at an odd angle. Harry gasped, almost gagging at the sight of it.
Connor chuckled. "Don't worry Harry, there's a numbing spell on my arm, I can't feel a thing. Besides, you're about to fix my finger, aren't you?"
Harry gulped. The finger looked absolutely horrendous. He pointed his wand towards Connor's limp hand, and said focused intently on what Connor had told him. "Episkey!"
A cool sensation went down Harry's arm and in an instant Harry felt his attention snap to Connor's finger, his magic finding the precise point on Connor's hand where there was a fracture in the bone, sealing the bone together and smoothing muscle and skin over it to restore it to its previous state. In a heartbeat it was over, but Harry was flushed with excitement and the thrill of what he had just done. He looked up at Connor, who was watching him with a bemused smile.
Connor removed the numbing spell from his hand and stretched it. It was healed perfectly, without so much as a scar. He looked at Harry with interest, "You know Harry, your excitement is entertaining, but you do have a real talent. It is a fairly simple spell, but most youngsters – especially when they haven't really learned magic properly yet, like you – don't usually master it on the first time. I've got to say; you've done really well. Normally I would stop the class now, but I'm worried you'll go around hurting yourself just so that you can practice, so I'll teach you the numbing spell and the fracturing spell before I go."
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Harry was standing in his father's study, and he couldn't help it. He was excited. The window was open and a warm breeze flowed through it. Sitting on his father's desk was a white envelope with a wax seal, stamped with the letter H.
"Take a seat, Harry," his father said with a smile. "Why don't you go ahead and open your letter? Do read it aloud."
Harry's hands were almost shaking with excitement. He knew what this was of course – his Hogwarts letter – and he was just bubbling with nerves. It was so official. Harry broke the seal gently and pulled out the thick parchment, from which he read aloud:
"Dear Mr. Potter,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July."
Harry looked up at his father. "Come on dad, let's send an owl! Elky!"
Elky appeared with a pop. Harry's father had a bemused smile on his face as he instructed her to send an owl to Hogwarts to assure them that Harry would be attending. She nodded and disappeared.
Harry unfolded the next piece of parchment. "Dad! There's all this stuff I need! Oh oh Dad can we go to Diagon Alley? Pretty please!"
Harry jumped up and ran to his dad, who was a little surprised by his son's hyper state. "Come on dad! Come on let's go let's go let's go there are so many things I need! How will I have it all in time? I need a whole bunch of stuff!"
His father looked at him evenly. He said in a gentle voice, "Listen Harry, everyone is going to be at Diagon Alley at this time of year. Do you remember the times I took you, how crowded it was? That wasn't even summer, that was just some regular old Tuesday. It's not good to go to those places when they are so over-crowded, they can be dangerous. You aren't just any other kid, Harry, there are people who are very angry at you for what they think you did to their master, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you there. I'll write to Flourish and Blotts and have them send your school books here, and perhaps Madam Malkin will be able to pay us a visit and do your fitting at home. We will order everything that you need, but I am not taking any unnecessary risks. The most important thing you might need from Diagon Alley is your wands, and luckily we got you them ahead of time."
Harry wanted to argue. He really wanted to argue. But his dad has that look in his eye, and Harry knew better than to make a fuss. "Okay Dad," he said with a sigh. "But can I get a pet then? It says you can have a toad, a cat or an owl."
Harry's father thought for a moment. "You can get an owl," he decided. "You will need one anyway to be able to write to me, and it's just as well that you have your own."
Harry smiled at that, but he was still disappointed. He had kind of wanted a toad.
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"What? You got a toad?" Harry asked Neville incredulously.
"Yeah," Neville answered. "My great uncle Algie got him for me as a present for getting accepted to Hogwarts."
"That is so cool," Harry said enviously. "Can I hold him? What's his name?"
They were sitting in Neville's dining room, waiting for the adults to come in so that they could have dinner. It was Neville's and Harry's birthdays, and for several years now they had celebrated them together in the Longbottom household. It was just a smidge depressing for Harry to celebrate at home alone with his dad, so Alice and Frank invited them every year and it had become tradition. Some years Remus came along as well, but Sirius never did, and Harry had a sneaking suspicion that it was because Sirius was scared of Neville's grandma's stuffed vulture hat.
Neville went to the other room and came back several moments later clutching a brown toad with wart-like bumps. "His name is Trevor," Neville informed him. "Want to hold him?"
Harry reached out to take Trevor, but the toad squirmed and Harry didn't get a good grip. He nearly dropped the toad but managed to catch Trevor at the last minute, straightening up just at the adults began filing in.
"Oh Harry," Frank Longbottom said with a smile. "What a pleasure to see you!"
"I would shake your hand," Harry said apologetically, "I'm just a little-" He held up the toad in explanation.
Frank laughed at that and turned to his wife. "Alice honey the boys are here, but be warned, they have a toad!"
Alice laughed her sweet, tinkling laugh, and Harry's father entered behind her. "Oh no, don't tell me you got Neville a toad! I can't believe you would buy into that fad. I got my boy an owl, that's what I call a useful animal."
"Oh James, you're such a bore these days! Boys just want to have fun; they want to enjoy life. Don't ruin it with all that practical talk!" Alice smiled at the boys and took a seat. "They're just kids, they don't need to be serious. They need to have fun."
James scowled. "They need to stay safe, that's what. I'm just trying to make sure Harry has everything he needs so that he can always reach me, and so that he can take care of himself."
Frank and Alice exchanged glances. "We're sure you are," Alice said in a placating tone. "We just think it might do you good to lighten up a little sometimes. It's the boys' birthday after all."
A bell chimed and there were voices at the door. A moment later Remus and Sirius appeared in the doorway.
"Sirius?" Harry exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"
"Well if you aren't happy to see me," Sirius said in an insulted tone, "I'll just be heading right -"
"Sirius!" Remus elbowed him in the ribs. "Sirius decided that he wouldn't miss his godson's birthday this year, and so he is here for the celebration!"
There was a sceptical silence.
"Okay, okay," said Sirius. "I may have also heard that Augusta is vacationing somewhere in France this time and I figured I would make the most of it. I never would have missed a gathering of my good friends otherwise and I'm rather insulted you would think that of me!"
James snorted and Frank and Alice burst out laughing. Sirius made his way over to Harry and gave him a hug, and he reached over and ruffled Neville's hair, which of course he hated. He took a seat, and soon the meal was well underway.
"So Harry," Sirius asked conversationally. "Have you planned your first pranks for Hogwarts yet?"
Harry smiled. "Nah, Sirius, I'm not you. I don't have a single prank up my sleeve. I'm going to be a real good kid, because otherwise my dad would beat me and you know it!"
Sirius looked over at James. "Come on mate, don't be like that. Let the kid live a little! Just like us, in the good old days. We had some real fun times messing around."
James shook his head. "We did a lot of stupid, dangerous things, and I wouldn't want Harry involved in anything of the sort. Let the kid be, Sirius, he isn't you. He wants to have fun, sure, but he isn't out of his mind like we were. Luckily, he has his head screwed on all right."
Sirius looked flabbergasted. "What? Not a single prank? Come on, at least tell me you'll send me a Hogwarts toilet seat."
At that all the adults at the table laughed. "Of all the pranks you could ask for and you ask for the most juvenile one? Pathetic Sirius, you're losing your touch," Remus joked. "I say you set him up against that Malfoy boy..." Remus trailed off at the look James was giving him.
"Malfoy? What do we have against Malfoy?" Harry asked curiously. The table suddenly grew very quiet. Frank and Alice, who had been discussing something, suddenly fell silent as well. Everyone looked to see what James would say.
"Nothing," James said in a quiet tone. "I have nothing to hold against them, and that is the end of this discussion."
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Harry sat in his father's study, waiting. His trunk was packed, and his owl, who he had named Hedwig, and already flown off the castle. It was far too early to leave yet, so Harry knew what must be coming. A lecture. He stilled his nervous fingers and listened to the quiet, emptying his mind as he often did while waiting. It was never a bad time to practice some Occlumency.
"Harry."
Harry looked up to see his father, who had entered the room without him noticing. He sat up, at attention, and listened. His father began to pace.
"You're about to enter Hogwarts. I've done all I can to prepare you for this moment. You are in good shape physically, you are in control of yourself mentally, you can defend yourself with magic, with the mind, and with hand to hand combat if need be. Not for any amount of time, to be sure, but certainly for long enough for someone to come to your rescue, and that's the best I could ask for as of yet. You have two good wands and all the school supplies you need; you have a background in potions and in healing. I have no dream for you to become an auror, but I do aspire for you to be safe.
"Harry, I ask of you now not to make light of all the things you have. Continue to train when you arrive at Hogwarts, make friends with people who are straight and honest and come from good families- "
" - Like, not Malfoy, right?" Harry interrupted.
His father's face clouded. "Not Malfoy," James affirmed. "I didn't want to say so when we were at the Longbottoms just because it's a nasty story to bring up, but... The Malfoys were Death Eaters. Inner Circle Death Eaters. And they got away with it," James clenched his fist, resting his shaking hand on the table, "they got off scot-free. I want you to have nothing to do with their son, Harry. Understand?"
Harry nodded, even though he privately thought that meeting a Death Eater's son would be... Kind of cool actually.
"Don't fight with him," Harry's father went on. "Just don't have anything to do with him. Honestly, do your best not to fight with anyone. It's fun in the moment, but no one needs enemies, especially not you. There are enough people out there to get you already."
Harry nodded, a little frightened by his father's intensity.
"You need to study hard," James continued. "When you come home for the holidays, I want you to be able to perform every spell with both wands and with no wand at all. I spoke to Dumbledore, and whoever your head of house is will arrange for your schedule to include classes twice a week with Connor. Mind that you stay at the top of your class – you and I both know you weren't joking when you told Sirius I would beat you for getting in trouble."
Harry gulped.
"Now go get your things – it's almost time to leave to the station."
