For poor Mr. Ollivander's sake, I am going to stick to the book's version of wand selection and not have his shop blowing apart with every wand the kids try!

Besides having fun, I am trying to work on perspective in my writing. Everything here should reflect the thoughts, views and style of Mr. Ollivander without using too many "he thought" type phrases. Let me know how well I pull it off!

-James-

Garrick Ollivander stood at a work table in the upper room of his shop, shaving a fine dust of willow wood off his next wand as it spun on his lathe. This one would be slender, ten inches long, imbued with unicorn hair and polished with resin: a gentle, agreeable first wand for a witch or wizard ready to develop their magical power.

Perhaps he had felt inspired to begin this wand now because it was August, the season of shopping for Hogwarts students. The eager sons and daughters of wizarding families, the wide-eyed muggle-borns, all were making their way through his shop. Of course, this wand would not be ready for them until next year.

Out the window, Ollivander spotted a father and son approaching. He stopped the lathe. They both had untidy black hair. After eighteen years, the elder son of Mr. Harry Potter and Mrs. Ginevra Weasley Potter was coming for a wand. Of course the boy was only eleven, but it had been eighteen years since... He set down his chisel and untied his apron. The bell on the door sounded and Ollivander brushed the wood shavings and dust off his robes. He made his way down the narrow staircase. Before greeting them, however, he unlocked a drawer and took out a wand he had set aside there. He would not try this wand first; experience had showed that young customers were much more satisfied with their wands after at least a show of making a thorough search.

"Mr. Harry Potter, good morning, and this must be your son...James?"

"Good morning Mr. Ollivander. Yes, this is James, ready to start at Hogwarts!"

"James Potter. I remember selling a fine mahogany wand to your grandfather on a morning much like this. Let's see..." Ollivander took a mahogany from the shelf, not looking at its specifications because he was only bringing it out for show. He suspected a certain wand would choose this boy, and it was not one of mahogany.

Harry Potter, however, looked carefully at each box that was set on the counter. He read, "Mahogany, Unicorn hair, eleven and a half inch, dark oil stain and brass trimmed handle. December 2002. This is recently made."

It did not respond to James Potter, and neither did the others that Ollivander brought up. Ollivander made a point of trying several wands made of cypress and holly-the woods that fought and sacrificed for noble causes; and then wands of apple and pear-which generally refused to perform any dark arts whatsoever. He had done the same with Harry before selling him his unique holly and Phoenix feather wand, though Hagrid and Potter did not know at the time that he was considering that wand until he brought it out. As they had with his father, these wands regarded the boy calmly; he was not their match, but neither was he a threat.

Harry Potter watched as Ollivander bustled back and forth with the wands. "I am glad to see you in such good health, Mr. Ollivander. You seem to be as lively as ever!"

"Did you think I would wilt, after my encounter with You-Know-Who? No, I had a few of the best healers. Now, Mr. Potter," he addressed the boy. "Why not try something like your mother's wand? Hazel and dragon heartstring?" Ollivander suggested. This would be the last fake. Young Potter made a face. "Mum's wand doesn't like me."

Mr. Potter shook his head. "It knows when you are not supposed to be touching it. Your own wand will be just as loyal to you. Try it."

At last the moment had come. "I wonder..." Ollivander said, and gave Mr. Potter a significant look. However, he set the box lid down out of sight behind the counter. He did not want to reveal the details of this wand unless it was truly the one.

The wand was cool to the touch, the grey surface that had so stubbornly refused to take any stain or polish looked dull.

Ollivander picked it up carefully and offered it to the young Mr. Potter. The moment before it touched his fingers, however, Ollivander sneezed and the wand fell onto the counter. He picked it up again, but this time a noise outside distracted the boy and he moved his hand away. The third time, the wand made its decision clear. It simply did not go into the boy's hand, as if repelled by a magnet.

"Never mind." Said Ollivander, disappointed. He put the wand away. In that case, he would have to search a little harder.

Dragon heartstring was better than unicorn hair.

Ten inch wands found the boy too demanding, but wands longer than twelve inches wanted plenty of space and good care, not a wizard who would toss them in his sock drawer.

Ash wood was nervous. This boy must be an active one. In that case perhaps mahogany after all...

Or dogwood...

Or maple: an explorer's wand wood...close, but not quite right.

Harry Potter read aloud, "Sycamore, dragon heartstring, ten and seven-eighths inch, resin finish. 1969."

The wand warmed up as Mr. Ollivander handed it to James. James waved it and a crackle of red and orange sparks lit the room.

"I like this one!" The boy exclaimed.

"Yes, a very good match, at last. That is a sturdy wand, ready for adventure. Dragon heartstring from a powerful Ukranian Ironbelly, if I recall correctly. Between you and I, Mr. Potter," said Ollivander to the father, "now that it has found its owner, it will not want to be bored. Sycamore wands have been known to get restless and combust, and dragon heartstring only accentuates such properties. I would not let it go unused for more than two weeks."

James Potter grinned.

His father pursed his lips. "In that case I may have to hold onto it myself during the summers, do a few spells with it."

His son's grin only faded a little. "You won't really take it, Dad, will you, you'll want me to practice."

As if to demonstrate, he held out the wand. "expecto patronum!"

Astonishingly, for a child who had held his wand for the first time less than two minutes ago, there was a brief white glow at the wand tip.

"Well, James Potter, I do not think your wand will get bored."