Disclaimer, as of now I do not own Doctor Who or Harry Potter. There a probably an alternate universe where I own them both, and well I have a literally infinite (haha, AU joke) amount of jealousy for that me, I am not that me. On with the chapter!

The Doctor found himself scanning the room as he stepped into the wand shop. The place looked safe enough, sort of dark, warm, and enchanting like something out of a children's fairy tale. The walls were lined with what the Doctor could only assume to be wand boxes, and he had to restrain himself from opening them up and peering inside.

"Alright, alright," the wand merchant said with an air of excitement "what's your name?" He asked it over his shoulder, as he he was scanning the various shelves intently, no doubt judging which wand would be best for the Doctor.

"John Smith." The Doctor responded after a moment of pause, reminding himself to use his false name.

Ollivander nodded, "and your wand hand?"

"Well," the Doctor said, "I can use either hand, but my right I suppose." He had taken to observing the boxes infinity curious as to how the objects inside worked.

The wand merchant searched for a minute, then finally said "Right, let's see then, try this one." He grabbed a box from a shelf behind his counter and ushered the Doctor over.

"Blackthorn, dragon heartstring core, eight and a quarter inches, rather springy." The man informed as the Doctor sauntered over to the counter. The merchant handed over the actually quite beautiful wand, and the Doctor took it, merely studying it at first, taking note of the ornate carvings. He felt a sort of subtle psychic power radiating off the thing, the wand itself wasn't the source but it was definitely channeling it, although the power felt a bit choked and the wand seemed to lean away from the Doctor. And maybe it was him just him being paranoid, or perhaps some sort of left over energy he felt due to his weakening empathy shields, but the wand seemed to dislike him. Strange, he would have to do some research on the possibility of wands being sentient.

"Well, give it a wave." Ollivander said eagerly.

The Doctor did so, moving the wand in an elegant sweep. There was a loud popping sound like the the firing of a gun and he cringed as the wand seemed to backlash, he felt it jump from his hand as several boxes in the back of the room came crashing to the floor. As the wand went airborne the Doctor had to scramble to catch it, holding it out gingerly to the wand salesman when he did.

"Sorry," he said, a bit frazzled and worried that the merchant would be angry with him for the mess he had caused.

"No, no, don't worry my boy, these things happen." Ollivander assured, "dragon heartstring, definitely won't do!" He took the wand from the Doctors outstretched hand and went back to searching.

The Doctor thought on this and came to the conclusion that the fact that a wand worked for him at all met that he was skilled at magic. Maybe not good at it, he found himself thinking, as he observed the boxes which were still lying about behind the counter,but able to channel it certainly.

As to why he could, well there was any number of theories, maybe it was due to his high psychic skills? (or, now that he was young again it was more potential than skill.) Or maybe magic itself was a sort of energy force that only those who were sensitive to it-witches and wizards-could tap into, and he had never noticed it due to the energy's subtle, or hard to use nature. Or possibly he had never noticed it due to his own psychic shields which were made to block out such things. Or maybe-

"Ah ha!," the Doctor was pulled from his musings when Ollivander went over to him with yet another wand, "let's try this one. Pear tree wood, unicorn hair core, eight and a half inches, rather unflexible. Give it a try!" He handed it over.

This wand didn't seem to detest the Doctor as much as the other had, but still it didn't feel utterly content in his hand. It tolerated the time lord, but more or less ignored him. Rather rude.

He waved it, but little happened.

The Doctor raised his brow, frowning slightly. "I don't think this one likes me much." He stated.

"Hmm," Ollivander smiled, "Very observant mister Smith," he sounded approving "The wand's not quite a match." Then he snapped his fingers, "I think I know!"

Ollivander took the wand back and went for another one. The Doctor soon found himself going through many wands, given a brief description of each before having it put in his hand and taken back out. Some jumped from his grasp, others caused rather angry gusts of winds, or outbursts of annoyance that resulted in toppled boxes, and some did nothing whatsoever. But whatever Ollivander was looking for telling him that the wand was a match, he never seemed to find it.

It was almost a half hour later before the wand merchant approached the Doctor with a new wand, unlike with all the others, he seemed to be worried about this one. His eyes were sad as he took it from the box and showed it to the Doctor.

"This is a hawthorn wand. Phoenix feather core and exactly nine inches, rather springy." He handed it over and watched the Doctor with an air of concern.

The Doctor took the wand and felt fully the power of it. It liked him, what more it had an interesting hard to figure out emotion attached to it, a puzzle that he would have to solve with time. The Doctor waved the wand and the tip of it glowed faintly. He felt a sort of comforting warmth spread through his fingers almost like the wand was claiming him as a friend. It somehow calmed his nerves.

Ollivander nodded, "I believe mister Smith, you have found yourself a wand. Hawthorn wands are tricky mind you, talent is needed to control them, and I find as a general rule that only the most complex and intriguing wizards are suited to them, as the wand itself has a conflicted nature. The wand is particularly good with healing magic, but are also adept to curses if that is where the owner finds himself. Travel through life carefully Mister Smith, it could be full of light and healing, but be wary of turmoil and sadness which could see you down darker paths."

The Doctor nodded, feeling almost chocked at the description. He could certainly feel the healing effects of the wand in a moment where he needed it, as his mind was still out of place, a swirling mess that was, well undoubtedly interesting and complex, also very dark. "Thank you." He said, his childish voice breaking the almost chilling moment of silence that had fallen, "How much do I owe you?"

Woo Hoo, third chapter done! The next chapter will be fun, I'm thinking of having the Doctor go out for some ice cream, and maybe help a fellow student with his history of magic homework. ;) Can't wait!

Answering My Fan Mail:

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As always all reviews will be responded to at the end of the next chapter! Thank you all for reading this! You guys rock!