Chapter 3: The Wand's Choice
Things seemed to move so slowly for the two years between Lily's magical awakening and her first year at Hogwarts. Every day was another question for Severus, another argument with Petunia, another giddy conversation with her parents.
On Lily's eleventh birthday, she received her Hogwarts letter, delivered personally by her future headmaster, Albus Dumbledore. He made a point to visit muggleborn children so that he could comfort and convince their often very confused and disbelieving parents. He would later tell of how pleasantly surprised he was upon meeting Marilyn and Charles Evans: they simply could not be more excited about the world their daughter was joining.
Dumbledore explained to Lily's parents, whilst she sat patiently and shyly between them, that they would need to accompany her on a shopping trip to Diagon Alley, helpfully making note of where to buy what and conjuring a small map of the area. Charles could barely stop himself from asking Dumbledore every question that popped into his head: what kind of job would Lily be able to get once she graduated school? Could magical animals talk? Could he please, if it isn't too much trouble, show them some magic? Lily was pleased to see that Dumbledore found her father's enthusiasm most amusing, his blue eyes twinkling over the family.
Petunia had been lurking nearby, of course, eyeing the headmaster and trying to convince herself that the whole thing was absurd and beneath her. Shortly after his visit, Lily found a letter in her sister's room whilst searching for a misplaced dress (Marilyn often confused the girls' clothes) written in the hand of the headmaster. He was ever so kind, Lily noted with a strange sense of pride, and she gathered from the letter that Petunia had more-or-less begged him to let her come to Hogwarts. Lily had felt a pang of pity and guilt in her chest. She wished her sister could join her and share in this part of her life. Things had always been quite tense between the girls, but since that summer day two years previous, Petunia had barely spared a glance for her sister.
It was late August in 1971 when Lily first went to Diagon Alley accompanied by her parents, who were about as excited as she was. Petunia had opted to stay home, as she was fourteen now and had so many mature things to be getting on with, like summer homework and calling her friends.
Lily must have visited Diagon Alley dozens of times throughout her education, but she would never, ever forget this first visit. After the brick wall melted away before her, and the wave of wonderful sounds reached her, Lily was completely absorbed into this world. The shops were colourful, ridiculous, amazing - strange apparatuses stood spinning in windows - barrels of unknown objects lined the streets - were those eyeballs? Was that a tooth? - owls perched hooting indignantly from the eaves of one storefront, whilst cats prowled in the doorway of another. Marilyn was drawn to a clothes shop featuring an enchanted needle and thread crafting a magnificent set of dress robes before their very eyes, whilst Charles spotted some kind of sporting shop some distance away with - it couldn't be a broomstick levitating in the window?
First on their list was robes, and as Lily very logically reasoned with her parents, they really should get the most important thing out of the way first: she could hardly cast spells in her underclothes. Once inside the shop - Madam Malkin's - Charles and Marilyn were seated on a plush loveseat, helping themselves to tea from the serving trolley that had rolled up beside them, as Lily was measured by the pleasant and plump Madam Malkin herself.
"Muggleborn, are you? You must be terribly excited," Madam Malkin said, not unkindly, taking note of Lily's parents. Lily nodded quickly, unable to reply as a measuring tape was, without assistance, currently measuring the length of her tongue. The store hostess was snipping away at a large black piece of fabric that was draping itself around Lily's arms and shoulders.
"You're a muggleborn?" came a voice from nearby. Lily craned her neck and spotted another young girl poking her head out from behind a large old-fashioned separator. "Wow! Are you nervous? I'm nervous, and my parents are magic!"
The girl tottered out, currently sporting the same black cloak as Lily, except it was a good 6 inches too long in the leg and arm for her. She had very shiny dark brown hair and wide blue eyes, and she wore an easy smile.
"My name's Mary," the girl said, holding out a hand and shaking her sleeve back.
"I'm Lily," Lily smiled rather shyly, shaking Mary's hand. "And yes, I'm really rather nervous."
"Have you got your wand yet? I just got mine!" Mary pulled a pale length of wood from the waistband of her skirt. "Eight inches, maple, dragon heartstring. From a real dragon!"
Lily could only stare in amazement. She caught her parents' eyes. "Can we get a wand next, mum? Dad?"
They nodded, staring at Mary's wand. The young brunette's face lit up and she made her way over to where the Evanses were seated, animatedly describing the experience to them as they watched her interestedly.
Lily and her parents finished up in Madam Malkin's and scanned the street for the shop Mary had told them about, spotting it a few yards away. This shop seemed less colourful or animated that the others, but it had a definite air of mystery hanging around it. The sign above the doorway read 'Ollivander's - Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.' It seemed quite small inside, and so Marilyn and Charles volunteered to wait outside for their daughter.
A bell above the door tinkled gently as she pushed her way inside, and a wizened wizard with a shock of wiry hair looked up from his desk. His eyes had an energy that his appearance seemed to lack - his gaze pierced her.
"Hogwarts? Mm. Come here, child," he requested, gesturing to the flickering lamp under which he sat. Lily approached, trembling slightly, nervously avoiding eye contact with this strange man.
"M-Mr Ollivander?" Lily inquired. He seemed distracted for a moment, looking at her questioningly, then nodded.
"Yes," he replied. Lily was about to introduce herself, but before she could, he disappeared in amongst the towering shelves of long, slender boxes. She heard him muttering to himself for a moment or two, then he reappeared, brushing the dust ofter a deep burgundy box. "Try this one, dear."
Lily opened the box and saw a wand, expecting it to be more like the one she saw in Mary's hand - pale, rather short and rather plain. This wand was completely different. It was a much deeper wood, almost blood red, with symbols carved around the grip. Lily made to pick it up hesitantly, but after just pressing a fingertip to the surface, Mr Ollivander tutted and snatched the box from her, disappearing once more into the shelves.
This happened twice more, once with a very long wand made of some chocolate brown wood, and again with a chunkier model coloured like a stormy sky. The fourth time Mr Ollivander presented Lily with a box, she lifted the lid to see a golden-brown wand, not too long and not too short, with a handle shaped like some kind of horn. The grip tapered towards the end, with a narrow line spiralling around the length. She took it into her hand and almost instantly the wand warmed to her touch, shuddering slightly and sending petal-shaped wisps of smoke raining around the young witch and the aged wizard.
Lily laughed in delight and amazement, and Mr Ollivander's face broke into a toothy smile.
"Yes, yes. Willow, ten and three-quarter inches, unicorn hair. Particularly good for Charms work. I had a feeling," he noted, eyeing the wand rather fondly.
Lily suddenly felt the urge to ask a question that she suspected might be rather silly to Mr Ollivander. Deciding that it was worth asking anyway, and a little silliness never hurt anyone, Lily looked up from her wand and addressed the store owner.
"Mr Ollivander," she began. "Perhaps this is naive of me, but do wands ever - ever say anything about a person's personality? Like a horoscope or - or palm reading?" She flushed red even as the words left her mouth, sure she sounded like a proper Muggle.
The old man did not laugh, much to her surprise, but pushed his lips together and let his eyes wander over the shelves in thought.
"You are the first person to ask me that question," he murmured, fixing his icy blue stare back onto Lily. "What is your name, child?"
"Lily Evans, sir."
"Miss Evans. Muggleborn," it was a statement, not a question. "Yes. Yes, I believe that wands do reveal elements of a wizard's personality."
He held out his hand, requesting Lily's wand, and she placed it into his palm. He handled it with great care, she noticed. "What does this say about me, sir?"
Mr Ollivander smiled knowingly before replying. "It says that you should have more faith in yourself, and that your abilities are not to be ignored or belittled. He or she who has furthest to go will go fastest with willow."
"What does that mean?" Lily puzzled, taking the wand back and looking at it curiously.
"It means that you have amazing potential, Miss Evans, without expecting it or even particularly wanting it. It takes a special wizard to wield a willow wand. Treat it with care and it will serve you well."
On this note, Lily thanked the eccentric wandmaker, paid him for the wand and then met with her parents, both of whom were in awe of their daughter's new utensil. The rest of the day passed without much event, other than, of course, Lily's purchase of her animal companion. This was the part Lily was most excited about, being a great lover of animals.
She had already selected an owl, as they were the most useful of pets to bring to Hogwarts: they could bring you news, post, their delivery times were remarkably fast and they always knew where to find you and your friends. Logistically speaking, an owl was the only choice for Lily Evans. And so, that day, Lily left Diagon Alley armed with everything she could need for her first year at Hogwarts, and a new friend clasped firmly in her arms. Lily had chosen a sweet barn owl, calling her Hero, after Lily's favourite literary character.
It just so happened that this day, the day of Lily's visit to Diagon Alley, was also the day that James Potter decided to do his school shopping. Euphemia escorted him, as her husband was busy working in the Ministry, as was the norm. This shopping trip was probably of less import to James than it was to Lily, as he had been nipping to and fro Diagon Alley all his life. The landlord of The Leaky Cauldron, Tom, was a good friend of the Potters, and had watched James grow from a chubby toddler to a scruffy-haired youth. Tom even made a point to sneak James the odd Chocolate Frog or two as he passed through the pub.
James was terribly excited to get his own wand; he had nicked his mum's wand once or twice, trying to conjure more than a few feeble sparks, but he understood that the best magic would come from a wand of his very own. After darting around and hurriedly buying the essentials -some basic Potions ingredients, a stack of textbooks, three sets of plain black robes - Euphemia ushered her son towards Ollivander's, promising him that she would find a suitable owl. Euphemia considered herself somewhat of a connoisseur of owls, taking great care of the three owls belonging to Hallows House.
"I can't send you off to Hogwarts with a slow old fellow that would take days to deliver your post," she had mused, frowning slightly as she eyed some of the older, lazier owls perched outside of Eeylops Owl Emporium. "You go fetch your wand, dear, I'll pick out a friend for you."
And so, James found himself in the exact same spot in which Lily had stood just a few hours previously, looking up at the grey-haired wizard. Ollivander was replacing several wand boxes at the top of one of the precariously-stacked shelves, and James patiently waited while the store owner made his way down the ladder.
"Popular day for first-years," Ollivander mumbled, immediately making his way over to another shelf and pulling out a box. "You're Fleamont's boy, are you? Yes," he went on without waiting for an answer. "The same hair. Here you go, Mr Potter."
James went through much the same experience as Lily, waving a few wands around hopefully until a sleek mahogany model produced a near-blinding flash of light - James would later swear that, as the light faded, he could hear the sound of distant hooves galloping through a wood.
"Very well done, Mr Potter, very theatrical," Ollivander cheered, applauding the young wizard. "There's a fair amount of talent in you, that's clear!"
"Thank you, sir," James grinned, his grip tight around the wand. The handle was deeply lined with pronounced woodgrain, a satisfyingly tactile knot directly underneath James' thumb. It fit into his hand as though it had been designed for that very purpose.
"Eleven inches, mahogany, dragon heartstring," Ollivander observed, nodding towards the wand. "Eight galleons, two sickles, please."
James paid the wizard and then left in pursuit of his mother, who hadn't gotten far. Euphemia was chatting animatedly with the witch who owned Eeylops, a regal great grey owl balanced on her arm. She spotted her son and waved him over, passing the huge owl to him; James was slightly intimidated, as the owl was probably about a third of his size. The witch passed him a few owl treats encouragingly.
"He's quite alright, dear, he's just a big boy," she smiled, patting the owl's smoky feathers. James fed the owl a treat with trembling fingers, chuckling as he nipped at his new owner's fingers.
Euphemia finished up with the store owner and set off for home with her son. James, still feeling rather theatrical from his display in Ollivander's, named the owl Neptune.
It is entirely possible that James and Lily's trips coincided somewhat: they may have crossed paths, bumped shoulders, stood back-to-back in one of the many crowded stores of Diagon Alley. Fate kept them apart on this day, however, with something quite different up its sleeves.