A/N: Everything you left me rambles in my head…no seriously…if I ramble poke me, and I'll stop. My intention is for Harry to grow up a bit, and gain a few skills along the way, he's more intelligent than in cannon but it just unrealistic for him to become a 'super powered Harry' in a few weeks. If I take it to far let me know will you?

Where do I go from here? - Relient k

Taking time to get over it

Making the best of what won't quit

Breaking me down I can't feel a thing

Tracing my steps right back to you

Racing the clock to save an hour or two

And facing the fact I don't feel a thing

I'm dealing with what I can't control

Feeling confused 'cause I don't know

If healing is when you don't feel a thing

Where do I go? Where do I stand?

Where can I find myself again?

Where do I go if not disappear

Where do I go from here?

Harry sadly waved goodbye to Hermione and Ron, his two best friends in the world, as his brutish uncle Vernon dragged him towards the car. Trying his best to avoid wincing from the dull throb in his ear Harry thanked his uncle for picking him up. In reply he received a grunt from Vernon, who started the car, trying his best to avoid paying any form of attention to the grieving boy huddled in his car. Harry curled himself in a ball on the backseat, biting back his tears bitterly; he would not allow a man like Vernon the pleasure at seeing him weak.

By the end of the first day of his summer holidays Harry had already finished his homework assignments, mainly essays on a few topics they would be studying in class next year and mainly set by Snape. By the end of the second day he had re read all his textbooks, even ones from previous years, Harry was surprised how much he had missed the first time round. Already there was a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of his dreaded OWL results.

Sighing Harry lay down on his small bed, slowly stroking Hedwig. He did his best to avoid the Dursleys, cooking his own meals at odd hours and shutting himself in his room, except for the long walks around Little Whinging, which he had started to enjoy daily. He left most of the letters he received unanswered and only gave Hermione and Ron cursory replies. He just didn't feel like replying every time he thought about how Ron and Hermione had been hurt, and had risked their lives, because of his stupidity, he felt ill. This meant Hedwig was Harry's sole companion. The wise snowy owl was the only one that ever saw harry cry himself to sleep in a foetal position each night, and tried to sooth him with comporting clicks of her beak when he awoke from nightmares screaming. It hurt Hedwig to see her hatchling this way and Harry appreciated her efforts but it wasn't a substitute to the human affection he knew he needed, but felt he didn't deserve.

On the third day he decided something had to change.

Pulling the invisibility cloak around him, Harry rushed out of the front door, as his aunt collected the milk bottles. He edged warily past the spot where he had heard an apparition 'pop'. It had taken him a little over an hour into his holiday to realise Dumbledore had ordered his followers to take turns spying on him. Apparently when you paced under a disillusionment charm you still left footprint behind in grass. A useful piece of information Harry had filed away for future reference.

Harry lifted his wand and summoned the night bus, this time he stayed firmly planted on his feet, not taken unawares by a Sirius sighting. He fought tears once again, as he counted out coins to give to Stan Shunpike, he would never see 'snuffles' again.

He was slightly lifted out of his feelings of melancholy when the garish purple bus arrived at Diagon Alley. The street seemed to bustle with life as hundreds of witches and wizards went about their everyday business. A slight hum of magic hung in the sunshine warmed air giving the street an almost glowing atmosphere. It was in stark contrast to his whitewashed walls and the cold indifference of the Dursleys. Harry looked around for a few moments, before shaking himself out of his reviver and deciding where he would go first. He moved quickly through the tightly packed crowds, easily dodging and sidestepping frustrated shoppers and hurried businessmen. He was careful to avoid making eye contact or allowing anyone to scrutinise him too carefully, he considered himself lucky he had not yet been recognised. In truth the main reason he continued unnoticed. Despite the numerous descriptions circling of him in The Profit, was his slight stature, he simply looked more like a first or second year, not like a 15 year old.

When the dusty bell rang as the door creaked open, Olivander was startled and immediately looked up from his reading. He didn't have a large influx of customers until closer to the start of term, a few hundred parents bringing their children for their first wands. "What can I do for you today Mr. Potter, having wand troubles are we, what was it holly and phoenix feather?" the kindly old man enquired, pushing the glasses up his nose in thought. Harry nodded sagely "you remember every wand you ever sell, right?" Harry explained to himself, more than to Olivander. "With all due respect sir, I think you know why I'm here. My current wand isn't going to cut it. The brother cores cause prior incantatum, they have the same strengths and weaknesses... and I can't do any training out side of school with the ministry tracking it". He hesitated before he added his last reason; Olivander would be taking a big risk in helping Harry evade the ministries tracking charms. Olivander eyed him warily, "ah but Mr. Potter the wand chooses the wizard and your wand has already chosen. Unless…." Olivander trailed off, and quickly waved his wand shutting the door and pulling shutters down. "The only other option is I custom make you a wand, it's quite frowned upon by the ministry I'm afraid sometimes the wands are so well matched they sometimes develop unusual skills. However I suppose due to your somewhat unusual circumstances I can make an exception just this once, but I trust you to be discrete in where and how you use it. Are we clear? Take a seat Mr. Potter, will fetch the necessary item from my store rooms". Harry sat down; grateful the elderly wand maker hadn't just kicked him out and reported him to Dumbledore.

Olivander took his time choosing the needed items from the copious amounts of shelves in his back room. He collected a small vial of a murky green potion and an armful of books. Returning to find Harry examining a pile of wands in various states of disrepair on his desk. Olivander dropped the books on the desk, creating a loud bang, and causing Harry to jump in shock. "Have you ever seen this potion before Mr. Potter? It's called the Subconscious draft. It should allow you to learn things about yourself which would otherwise go unnoticed. It's a mild hallucinogenic, so don't be alarmed if strange things begin to happen. When it takes effect I wish for you to imagine a forest, I want you to tell me the first sort of tree you see and any animals you may see. Do you understand" Olivander passed to potion to harry when he nodded.

Harry swallowed to potion, struggling not to cough it up as it slid its way down his throat. He was desperately trying to imagine a forest when the potion took effect. A branch appeared to be coming through a wall, when he turned around to make sure Olivander knew his shop had become afforested, he too had been replaced by a gnarled tree. Taking a step forward harry tentatively touched one of the branches, it felt real, the bark rough under his hands. The tree was a type he didn't recognise, it had a pale slate grey bark and no leaves harry could see. When he snapped off a twig he could see it was coal black inside. Looking around confused by this weird sort of tree he was scared to realise how stark and barren the forest he had imagined was. A few trees dotted the snowy landscape and there was nothing but bare trees as far as harry could see. Beginning to shiver, Harry tried to calculate how long he had spent in his potion induced haze. Looking into the cloudy sky harry could make out a familiar shape on the horizon, Hedwig. As she landed on his shoulder he began to pet her, but soon the trees began to thin out and harry awareness of the shop. He was embarrassed to find he was petting a battered fur hat on the coat stand.

"So what did you see Mr. Potter?" asked Olivander pulling his books eagerly towards him in anticipation. Harry described the trees he had seen and Olivander started to flick through pages in a small red book. But as harry was describing how Hedwig had been there the old man looked up sharply "Your owl Hedwig are you sure? That should be impossible….unless you have a familiar bond, tell me how close are you and this owl, it's very rare for any pet to become a familiar nowadays." "Well I guess were pretty close, she practically raised me" Harry answered watching Olivander's brow furrowing, an interesting expression with so many wrinkles. "I suggest you do some reading into familiar bonds then harry, it could be very useful in future, but I am going to need a feather from Hedwig, so if you would be so kind as to summon her?" Olivander waited patiently. Harry blushed feeling stupid "um how would I do that sir?" muttered harry. "Bless my soul, you have a familiar bond and you don't know how to call her to your side? Well let me see, try closing your eyes, concentrate very carefully on your owl, can you feel her hovering on the corners on your conciseness" Olivander waited for harry to nod before proceeding "now I want you to concentrate really hard on the thought of her being here with you". Harry followed Olivander's instructions and jumped back as Hedwig appeared next to him, looking bemused at her human.

"Hey girl, sorry for calling you so suddenly, but I was wondering if I could use a feather of yours for my wand. I know you don't want to loose any, I think they're beautiful as well girl, but it will grow back and it will help keep me safe". Harry felt a little stupid at speaking to Hedwig in front of another person, he talked to her all the time when he was alone, and it just seemed so much odder to do it while been watched. She looked at harry with her wise eyes for a moment as if considering his proposal before lifting a snowy wing and allowing Olivander to pluck a suitable feather. "You can go back to what you were doing now girl, thanks, I'll buy you some treats while I'm shopping" Harry waved off Hedwig who disappeared in a puff of downy feathers.

"You do indeed have a fascinating relationship with your owl Mr. Potter. Now we must ascertain which species of tree it was you saw, can you tell me if it was any of these? If not have a flick through the book and see if you can find it" Harry looked at the book but was disappointed when none of the pictures were anything like what he had seen. He skimmed the book before coming to a halt at the striking image of a gnarled tree, like the ones he had seen. Olivander looked at the page and this time both his eyebrows shot up. "Are you sure? I should have known making a wand for you would be a challenge. This is a black poplar tree; they're getting quite rare now. There have only been a few recorded cases in the last 2 centuries of people compatible with black poplar wood. An ancient Greek legend describes how Paetheons' sisters were so mad with grief; the gods could not stand their weeping and turned them into the first black poplars. As such the wood will only be accepted by people who are so full of sorrow the sisters will pity them. However it is said to create very powerful wands, this wand I am making will be remembered throughout history, I have no doubt" explained Olivander, peering at the sad looking boy above his glasses. "I was thinking of putting on some basic runic wards, the structure won't hold many but I could put a few simple protecting ones on for you. If I shut the shop I should be able to finish your wand for this evening, but I will need your help with the runes". Harry thanked Olivander and as he was leaving it occurred to him he needed to pay, turning back Harry muttered "oh sorry, how much do I owe you?" feeling like a twit, Olivander was risking a lot by helping him and he forgot to pay. "Nonsense I won't hear of it, like I said, this wand will be remembered throughout history, and besides, I lost a few people in the first war, helping you is my only hope of justice" Olivander looked wistful as he ushered harry out of the shop so he could get to work.

As Harry began his shopping Olivander took out the small golden key he wore around his neck and opened the rusty door to the workshop he had not entered in 16 years. After he had lost his older brother, Oliver, he could not enter without being bombarded by the memories of his death. Oliver pleading for mercy as the death eaters tortured him when he refused to reveal Olivander's location. The death eaters had being trying for months to capture Olivander to custom make wands for them all and his brother had offered his protection as an aurora. Cursing Voldemort Olivander had vowed never to custom make a wand again- instead all new stock was now imported.

A few quick cleaning charms and the remains of the dust collected over one and a half decades were gone. Flicking on a lamp he began to work. Taking out a deep black block of wood from a locked drawer he began whittling, chanting the correct enchantments to imbue the wand with powers. Soon he was deep in a trance his hands and voice following the routine they had memorised, despite their lack of use. Unknowingly he slipped deeper into his trance, chanting words and spells he had never heard of or even dreamed of before.

Harry entered Madam Malkins staring warily at the haughty sales assistants and the endless shelves of clothing. He was looking at some plainish looking black robes, when he bumped into a familiar face. "'arry what are you doing 'ere? Dumbledore said you weren't allowed to leave your 'ouse!" Fleur squealed and pulled him into a hug, making a slight blush spread across his cheeks. "I decided it was time for a change of wardrobe" he smiled wryly and gestured to his baggy t-shirt and battered jeans. She frowned as she took in his hand-me-downs from Dudley, slowly what can only be described as a calculating smirk spread across her exquisite face. "Fashion" said Fleur in an eerie voice "ees my speciality". Harry was about to protest when he was thrown into a changing room in a whirl of ice blonde hair. "Wait 'ere while I fetch you some things to try on".

After a strangely short wait harry became quickly buried under the piles of clothes Fleur thrust upon him, she had picked them so quickly he was beginning to wonder if she had planned this. Fleur quickly realised he was incapable of putting together an outfit while she was waiting outside ready to advise and instruct. Soon after harry had inadvertently committed a crime of fashion, trying on a purple shirt with pale blue jeans, Fleur decided he was incompetent and began picking outfits for him to try on. Soon the pile of clothing that met Fleur's nod of approval grew to include; tailored jeans, assorted t-shirts, checked shirts, waistcoats, shoes and jumpers. Harry occupied his mind by trying to fathom how Fleur had guessed his sizes so accurately, even his underwear.

Soon harry was left only with the pile of clothes he was planning on buying, relieved harry placed them into one of the levitating baskets following him and tagged after Fleur who was leading the way to the tills. As he was shuffling obediently behind her a jacket caught his eye. Pulling it out he saw on the tag it was vintage dragon hide, it looked identical to muggle leather except it had a slight green sheen when he put it under a light. The only other difference between leather and dragon hide (if the label is to be believed) is its ability to absorb minor hexes and jinxes. Harry pulled it on marvelling at how soft the worn hide was. Fleur smiled in assent while browsing the jewellery section and tossed some small silver rings into the basket. "Fleur I really am not getting jewellery, even I have my limits." Harry stated reasonably only for his argument to be effectively silence by Fleur's threatening glare and pursed lips, the part veela could be very intimidating. He meekly put them back in the basket. "Trust me?" asked Fleur trying to appease harry, who grumbled as he handed over his Gringotts key so the cashier could draw the money from his vault.

Fleur shrunk the bags and wandered down a small side street, expecting harry to follow, sighing he did so; all his thoughts of escape were dashed when she kept the bags in the oversized handbag she was carrying. When she stopped in front of a tattoo parlour harry looked at hr incredulously "are you insane? I don't want a tattoo, and even if I did I'm still underage!" harry yelled loudly. "Shhh, relax 'arry you engleesh are so uptight, you're not getting a tattoo and you'll 'ave parental consent. Now 'ush I need to concentrate" Fleur explained scrunching up her nose in concentration as she applied glamour's to herself. When she was done she looked to be in her early 40's although harry suspected Fleur would look much younger when she did actually grow to be 40. "Now we just need to make you look like you're my son, don't squirm or I'll give you a crooked nose". A warm tingling sensation spread across his face and when he looked in the shop window he was surprised to find his nose had shrunk to a cute button nose like Fleur's, his hair was platinum blonde, reminding him too much of Malfoy for Harry's tastes and his scar was covered.

They really did look like mother and son as they stood next to each other, Fleur smiled pleased with her handiwork. Harry gingerly entered the shop and looked around the walls decorated with photos of various tattoos while Fleur spoke to the tattoo adorned man behind the counter. "Harry dear this nice man says you can go through to the back, I'll wait out here for you and pay, my treat okay?" She kissed him sloppily on the cheek and shoved him through the door; he was too shocked by her upper class British accent he didn't think to question what she had planned. If nothing else, Fleur was an excellent actor.

Harry took a seat in the leather chair in the middle of the room and waited for Fleur's plans to become apparent. Small looking woman covered in piercings approached him "now don't panic, this wont hurt a bit" she said as she fiddled with his ear before using a weird staple gun to clip two silver hoops through the top of his ear. "That's weird I had you pegged as a wuss, you didn't even flinch. Guess I underestimated you kid", she smiled and handed him a book on how to care for his piercings.

Gingerly Harry felt his ear as he walked along side Fleur, now back to her normal ethereal beauty. "Bah, if you didn't want eet you could 'ave said sometheeng!" her ears were deaf to Harry's excuses and they parted with Harry still grumbling about his ear.

Harry entered Flourish and Blotts still blushing from Fleur's over enthusiastic hug. Browsing the shelves he was beginning to feel what it must be like to be Hermione. The towering shelves and endless rows of knowledge made Harry feel very small. He started a pile of books that looked like they could be useful; "Duelling for Dummies", "Handy Healing Magic", "Ancient runes for Amateurs", "The Big Book of Obscure Charms and Jinxes" as well as many others that looked interesting, he was going to have lot of reading to do over the summer. The pile on the counter slowly mounted up and the sales clerk smiled happily as they bagged the books and shrank them. Maybe he could do some lesson plans for the DA, if anyone still wanted to continue it that is.

He briefly entered the apothecary and stocked up on potions ingredients. Snape would be proud; he recognised almost all the contents of the many glass jars.

Slowly shuffling along the edges of the hoard of shoppers harry licked an ice cream as he made his way back to Olivander's, checking his watch he realised he had wasted almost two hours in the quiditch shop choosing which pair of seekers gloves would be best.

Olivander gestured him in bristling with excitement "Mr. Potter the wand is ready, bless my soul I don't think I've every worked so fast, the fates must be on your side. I need your help to register the wand to you and activate the runes. If you could just prick your finger and let a drop of blood fall onto the handle?" Harry looked anxious "But sir, isn't blood magic dark?" Ron had told him horror stories about the type of people that enlisted blood magic. "nonsense my boy, how is making your wand only work for you dark, its all about intent, the tickling hex could be considered dark in the hands of a dark wizard".

Shrugging Harry slit his finger and felt the wand become cold as the blood fell onto the first rune. He almost dropped the wand as it iced over his hand and let out an eerie sliver glow, so bright he had to shield his eyes. When he had picked up his first wand and bonded with it a faint gold aura had surrounded him and he heard music. At the time he had though that was the world best feeling, but it was incomparable to this.

A wind picked up around him rushing past his face playfully, it felt like he was flying. The glow dimmed to what looked like moonlight and the scent of roses and freshly cut grass, it was like his magic was few for the first time and singing. When he opened his eyes he realised he was floating. The shock caused him to drop the wand and, consequently, he fell with a "huff" to the ground.

Olivander smiled at him "It's been a while since I've seen a wand so matched to its owner, do it proud."