Wands of any wood
Chapter one: Diagon Alley
Sunlight slipped through the curtains in narrow beams as Harry woke. He was groggy at first, but as he grumbled and thought of rolling over, the importance of the day came to him in a rush of excitement. He hopped out of bed and threw on his clothes, not bothering to check himself in the mirror before leaving his bedroom.
His room was on the very top floor of Rookhope, the isolated house Professor Dumbledore had brought him to all those months ago. It was a strange old house with corridors stretching off in unusual directions and rooms in areas that in all likelihood should be empty space. The headmaster had told him it belonged to his grand-uncle before he passed without a family of his own to leave it to. It lay forlorn, slowly falling to ruin in the wilds of the northern pennines before Dumbledore secured it and brought him there from Surrey.
He reached the ground floor and hurried to the kitchen where Remus sat reading the Daily Prophet at the kitchen table.
"Good morning, Harry. Excited I take it?"
Harry grinned as he helped himself to some of the sausages that lazily turned themselves on a pan hovering above the fire, keeping them at just the right temperature.
"Can't wait. What time are we going?" He asked.
"Well, Hestia should be here shortly but, I was talking to Professor Dumbledore last night. He said Hagrid wants to join us for the day, so we'll wait for him I think. Will you manage?" He teased.
"Just about. I've been here for ages now and not seen anything but this place. Not that I'm not happy here," he hurried, not wanting to sound ungrateful. "You all just talk about these places and I feel like I'm missing out."
Members of the Order frequently passed through Rookhope, some even staying for a day or two at a time but Harry found that most of them were usually to preoccupied to answer the incessant questions of a curious eleven year old.
When Dumbledore had escorted a very confused Harry from Privet Drive and brought him to the muggle village down the road, he'd taken the time to walk with him towards the house, explaining what he could along the way.
He'd told him about magic, the truth about his parents, and explained that the fire at his school had been started by someone called a Death Eater. They'd tried to kill Harry and would have succeeded if not for the intervention of another wizard called Shacklebolt.
It had been a massive amount of information for Harry to take in. He might even have refused to believe the old man if not for his history with strange events and the fact that as they walked through the country lane, small orbs of brilliant white light danced around their heads, seemingly in time to a tune the wizard was humming.
The arrived at the ramshackle house to be greeted by what seemed to be a small welcoming party. There were about a dozen witches and wizards in all who had come to introduce themselves and welcome him back to their world, including Remus, a lifelong friend of his mother and father, though Harry suspected many were there for the chance to relax and socialise with their friends over a few drinks.
Eight months later, he still couldn't wrap his head around the idea that these people considered him special or that he was worth going to all this trouble for. He was just Harry, after all. He hadn't stopped Voldemort through any feat of skill, he was just a kid. That it meant more to them, though, was plain to see. Many clapped him on the back in passing even after their introduction and one small, balding wizard was reduced to a fit of tearful joy every time he tried to talk to him. Harry tried to avoid the man as much as possible after the first incident. It was really quite embarrassing.
"Well after today you'll be able to relate to the others a little better," said Remus, breaking Harry from his reverie, "Diagon Alley is in many ways, the heart of Wizarding Britain. Though if you're anything like James I imagine we'll have a hard time keeping you out of Quality Quidditch supplies."
"I just can't wait to get my own wand," Harry replied. Remus had been a wealth of information about his parents, and Harry had greatly enjoyed the nights where he would sit by the fire and tell stories of their adventures. On the other hand, he occasionally seemed to forget how little Harry knew of things like Quidditch. The rules had been explained to him and he had listened to matches on the wireless, but without seeing it first hand he could barely make heads or tails of it.
It was only half an hour later when he heard the floo in the living room roar to life and a harried looking young witch with flyaway red hair strode into the kitchen.
"Apologies, boys. I was running a little late this morning," she said distractedly before taking a seat.
Harry smiled. Hestia was always running 'a little late' and the middle aged witch was entirely too forgetful, but she was always a laugh, the first to call Remus out when he started to brood.
"Oh no problem Hestia, we were starting to wonder if we should just give up on getting Harry a wand and wait until next year," Remus joked, leaning back in his chair with a smile.
"Oh shush, Hagrid isn't even here yet."
Hestia barely had the words out of her mouth before the roar of a motorcycle echoed through the house followed by a great crashing sound.
"Speak of the devil," Remus said, getting up from the table and placing his mug in the sink where a scrubbing brush started to clean of its own accord. "I do wish he'd get the hang of that bike though."
Harry and Hestia followed Remus out of the kitchen and to the rear of the house which was less of a yard and more of a hillside that stretched hundreds of metres. Standing over a stricken motorcycle stood a giant of a man with a long bushy black beard. He heard them approaching and turned to wave.
"Remus! She's still cuttin' out when I come in ter land. Tha's the third time this week!" Said Hagrid irritably.
"We'll have the discussion about gears again tonight, Hagrid, but for now do you have something for us?" Remus asked politely.
"Ah righ' yeah," Hagrid said, patting his jacket pockets before reaching inside his left breast and pulling out what appeared to be a telescopic baton. The huge man extended it with a flick of his wrist and passed it to Remus who hummed appreciatively and tapped it with his wand, causing it to shine bright blue for a brief moment.
"Sorry to be a pain," Harry said, "But what's that?"
Hestia stepped forward with a smile. "That, Harry, is our Portkey. Dumbledore made it to get us from here to the Alley."
Harry studied the baton curiously. "How does that work?"
Remus held it out and Harry followed Hagrid and Hestia's lead by grabbing hold of it. "Magic. Don't let go."
Remus tapped it a second time with his wand and Harry suddenly felt as if he was being pulled forward by his navel. The world around him disappeared, replaced with a flurry of bright lights spinning like leaves in a hurricane. Wind howled in his ears and direction meant nothing at all to him as he hurled through space, struggling to right himself in the vortex only to crash to the ground with a thump. He groaned and picked himself up to see his three companions standing upright, seemingly completely unruffled by the experience.
"Don't worry, you get used to it after a while," said Hestia.
"Speak for yourselves," grumbled Hagrid, looking distinctly green around the gills.
Harry looked around, they had arrived in a dingy old bedroom with peeling paint and warped floorboards. The room smelled faintly of sick causing Harry to crinkle his nose in disgust.
"Uh, it isn't exactly what I was expecting," he said.
"Oh, this is just one of the back rooms in The Leaky Cauldron. Dumbledore arranged it with the landlord beforehand. He didn't want us appearing right in the middle of the pub after all," Remus explained.
"Right, let's get to it then!" Said Hestia cheerfully.
Together they left the dreary room and navigated the odd winding corridors of the Leaky Cauldron before descending a flight of stairs into a large, dim pub thronged with dozens of witches, wizards and people that Harry was quite sure weren't entirely... people.
Harry noticed that they were attracting quite a few stares, something he attributed to the huge form of Hagrid in their wake. "Hullo, Tom!" he shouted to the bartender who waved back.
"Hagrid!" Hestia scolded, "We're supposed to avoid attracting attention you great lummox."
Hagrid looked both chastened and slightly hurt. "Now there's no need ter be like tha', Hestia. I was only sayin' hullo. Takes nothin' ter be polite."
Harry chuckled as he saw Remus roll his eyes at the interaction.
"Come on now, let's get a move on," he said, ushering them forward and through the back room of the pub.
They emerged in a small yard covered in moss and empty wooden barrels which Harry thought was quite unimpressive, but he knew enough to not say anything just yet.
Remus walked forward confidently and tapped the bricks of the wall in front of him in what seemed to be an utterly random sequence.
For half a second nothing happened and then, with a great grinding noise the wall started to pull itself apart, bricks rearranging themselves in a flurry of magic. By the time the dust had settled an arch had formed in the wall large enough for three to pass abreast.
What lay on the other side of the arch made Harry's breath catch in his throat.
Diagon Alley was everything Harry had imagined it to be and far more besides. The street thrummed with life and colour and the very air seemed to be thick with magic. Tiny fairy-like creatures zipped by, motes of light trailing in their wake outside a store with a large blooming multi-coloured canopy.
Wizards and witches sat outside cafes in the summer sunshine, some laughing or in deep conversation, while others sat back reading newspapers in peace. Harry spotted one wizard entertaining himself by choreographing the smoke emitting from his pipe, making it dance in the shapes of multiple figures on wispy broomsticks.
The street itself was as haphazard as Rookhope or The leaky Cauldron, all rough edges and zigzagging lines with shopfronts set away from the road even as the upper parts of the buildings leaned precariously over it.
"It's brilliant," he breathed.
He felt Remus clasp a hand on his shoulder. "Seeing it for the first time is always something special, even for those of us who were raised here. Now. Our first trip is to Gringotts'. Hagrid and I will come with you, I believe Hestia has some other business to attend to."
"Quite right, Remus. It'll be interesting to see what Mundungus has for us, today."
"If ya see him, tell him he still owes me those sickles," Hagrid murmered.
"I'll be sure to mention it. Enjoy the goblins!" She said merrily as she strode off into the crowd.
"Goblins?" Harry asked, curious.
Remus' face twisted in slight distaste. "Gringotts' is run by goblins, Harry. They can be quite nasty and treacherous at times so they make excellent bankers."
"Jus' don't try to steal anything and you'll be fine. They're a greedy lot," Hagrid added.
They walked off towards the bank which Hagrid pointed out to him as the huge white marble building that split the alley in a fork. Armed creatures that Harry assumed were Goblins stood at the doors clutching long cruel looking spears and staring straight ahead.
Inside the place was simply cavernous. The main floor was surrounded by a horseshoe of high oak desks, each presided over by a different goblin. They were strange with fierce looking pointed teeth, long sharp noses and beady eyes; but for all their menacing appearance Harry couldn't help but think they looked slightly comical in their little suits.
"Righ' I have a wee errand to run for the Headmaster. I'll meet ya back here before we leave." Hagrid said, walking in the direction of a particularly large around the middle Goblin teller.
"It's still hard to believe I actually have money," Harry said to Remus as they approached a desk. "My aunt and uncle always told me my parents had nothing."
"Well I suppose to them it would have seemed that way, Harry. You have to remember that James and Lily left school at the height of the Voldemort's power. They joined the Order almost straight away. After James' parents died he had a good amount of money to live off so they didn't need to rush to work."
The whole thing seemed bizarre to Harry but he was grateful. He had worried about he was going to afford everything before they explained his parents' situation to him.
The goblin at the desk finished scrawling on a piece of parchment, filed it away and turned his attention to them.
"Key?" he asked.
Remus dug his hand into his pocket and produced a tiny gold key. The goblin accepted it and studied it for a moment before hopping off his perch and beckoning them to follow. As he left an almost identical goblin hopped up onto the perch he had just left and continued filing paperwork in his stead.
They walked through the polished marble halls in silence for a few minutes before coming to a large set of doors that opened with a wave of their teller's hand. On the other side was a small platform like Harry would have expected to find in a tube station. Their guide snapped his fingers and within moments a small cart appeared from the darkness and stopped in front of them with the sound of screeching breaks.
The goblin climbed in and Harry made to follow but Remus grabbed him by the shoulder. "Hold on tight and whatever you do, don't look over the sides."
Harry felt a sudden wave of concern as they climbed into the cart. Surely it couldn't be that bad, the track seemed level enough.
He cursed himself for thinking that when, as soon as he was halfway inside the cart it flew off into the darkness, dumping him unceremoniously between Remus and the goblin. The older wizard helped him up into a seat while the cart whirrled dizzyingly around corners at breakneck speed.
Harry felt his stomach flip several times, close to emptying itself but he held his composure. He has a sneaking feeling that their driver was enjoying the whole situation and he felt that at least some of the turns didn't need to be quite so reckless. They hurtled deeper and deeper into the earth and it began to dawn on him just how utterly massive the caves below Gringotts were. They passed through a huge waterfall that mysteriously didn't soak them and at one point Harry saw a great gout of flame rising from below causing him wonder just what else the bank was storing.
At last their cart veered through a small tunnel and they slowed to a stop in front of a large vault door made from dirt coloured metal inlaid with gold and silver. The goblin climbed out of the cart somehow much more gracefully than the two wizards and approached the door, slipping Harry's key into a tiny keyhole in the centre. When he turned it the door shuddered and dust from the ledge above fell to the floor as the bolts holding it fast withdrew and it swung open silently.
His eyes widened as he stepped forward. Inside were great mounds of gold coins, columns of silver sickles and piles of bronze knuts. A few other odds and ends, most likely antiquities sat near the rear of the vault but it was the vast stacks of currency that grabbed Harry's attention.
"Remus, how much is this?" he asked, breathless.
"Don't get any big ideas, Harry. It's enough to get you through school for a start. After that you could probably live in comfort but you'd be emptying the coffers so to speak. After school I'd recommend you think more about adding to this than taking from it. Unless you intend to be the last Potter." Remus said.
Harry could tell he was only half joking and he had no intention of squandering his inheritance but he was suddenly glad the Dursleys never knew about his parents' money.
Remus produced a small pouch and filled it with a little from each of the piles in front of him and handed it to Harry. "Now, that should be enough to sort out your school supplies for the year and leave you a bit of money for school. You can't go to Hogsmaede yet but if you're smart you can convince the upper years to bring you a few bits and pieces back," he said with a conspiratorial wink.
Harry accepted gratefully and stowed the pouch in his jeans. It really shouldn't have fit in his pocket but he wrote it off as just another miraculously magical oddity.
They rode the cart back through the caverns and left the goblin's company without another word. The creature left him with a decidedly bad impression with his surly look and piercing stare. As they left the bank and stood outside waiting for Hagrid Harry turned to Remus.
"Why are goblins like that?"
Remus looked uncomfortable. "They're probably not all like that, Harry and I'm the last person who is inclined to judge magical creatures harshly but they have more than earned their reputation throughout history. If you can stay awake during history of magic you'll learn more about them."
Harry nodded, still unsettled as he saw the guards outside the bank glaring at it was then that Hagrid emerged from the building.
"All done here, folks. Where to next?" he asked, jovially.
"You think you're ready to get your wand, Harry?" Remus asked.
"Let's go," he replied, grinning.
They crossed the alley and set towards a narrow dingy looking shop with a large sign that read, 'Ollivander's: Makers of fine wands since 382 B.C." Harry did a double take at the date on the sign before being ushered into the shop by Remus.
It was a dim, dusty old shop with barely enough room for a dozen people to stand before the counter which behind, stood row after row of shelves reaching up towards the rafters. Each shelf must have housed hundreds of wands in long slim, mostly dusty boxes.
"Ah, Mr, Potter. I was wondering when I'd be seeing you."
A man strode out from the gloom between the shelves startling him. He had grey eyes that seemed to look right through him and his head was covered in a thinning mop of flyaway white hair. All in all, Harry thought, he looked at least as eccentric as Headmaster Dumbledore and quite a bit more eerie.
"Mr. Ollivander, it's a pleasure to see you again," Remus said extending his hand. The wandmaker rounded the counter and grasped it but his eyes remained focused on Harry. It lasted for a long moment before he took a sidelong glance at Hagrid.
"Hmm. Doesn't look to rain today, Mr. Hagrid," he said, staring at the large man's umbrella.
Hagrid's face suddenly went a violent shade of pink and he muttered something about a parasol and remembering he had to visit another shop before backing outside. Harry could see him hurrying down the street through the window and looked at Remus, confused but the older wizard was eyeing Ollivander with amusement.
"Was there really any need for that?" he asked..
"I wouldn't go to Hogwarts and parade the corpse of Unicorn in front of him. I see no difference." He passed Remus and grabbed Harry's arm, extending it and studying it closely.
"This is your wand hand then, Mr. Potter?"
"Er, yes I suppose so," Harry said.
"Right, let's get to it then. If you're anything like your mother you'll take quite a bit of time," he said, disappearing into the stacks.
Harry soon learned that the old man wasn't joking. It was well over an hour later when Ollivander, exasperated sat down on a stool. The counter was piled high with boxes of discarded wands deemed completely unsuitable. Harry was beginning to despair that no wand would be a match for him and he'd be shipped unceremoniously back to Privet Drive. Even Remus was starting to fidget.
"I was afraid it might come down to this, Mr. Potter. I have a feeling I know the wand you're specifically suited for." The wandmaker rose and went far into the stacks, emerging a minute later with a box that looked a hundred years old at least. "This is one of my earliest wands, Mr. Potter," he said. "Give it a whirl."
Ollivander opened the box for him and Harry reached in grasping the wand. Instantly he felt the difference. Of course none of the other wands were suitable for him, how could they be? None could even come close to matching the surge of adrenaline that coursed through him when he raised it. He gave it a swish and bright crimson sparks showered the shop, pure magic coursing from him and through the wood. It felt as if the wand was singing in his hand.
"Holly and Pheonix feather. Eleven inches."
"It's perfect," Harry said, breathlessly.
Ollivander hummed. "I thought it might be. The pheonix who donated that feather gave one other. I encase it in a yew wand and sold it sixty years ago to a young boy who grew into a terrible man. The man who gave you that scar" he said, gravely. "It seems more than simple history connects you and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."
"Now really, Ollivander," Remus said quickly, temper coating his words. "Why would you tell him that?"
"I do not lie about my wands, Mr. Lupin and especially not when it concerns a wand as powerful as this," he turned to Harry. "Take note, Mr. Potter. This wand's brother committed great and terrible acts. The same potential lies in the wand you hold. It falls to you and you alone to decide its course."
Harry suddenly felt as if he was holding something extremely dangerous but it sat so perfectly in his hand he felt no other wand would every really be his. He paid the strange old wizard and left the shop hurriedly with Remus in tow.
"That wasn't exactly what I expected," Harry said as they emerged, looking down at the pale wood resting in his hand.
"No, Ollivander has always been quite odd but that seemed exceptional even for him," Remus replied, evidently still bothered by the conversation. "In a roundabout way he made a good point though. You decide your destiny, Harry. Sharing a wand core with Voldemort means nothing in the end."
Harry nodded but privately he thought Remus was a lot more agitated about it than he was letting on.
Hagrid was nowhere to be found after his swift exit from Ollivander's so the pair continued on to Flourish and Blott's where Harry picked up all of his textbooks and a few more besides on Remus' recommendation. They visited the apothecary where he picked up his ingredients and tools for potions as well as picking up a nice spacious trunk that Remus assured him would last through all his years at Hogwarts and probably beyond.
Afterwards Remus insisted that they break for lunch and guided him through the crowd towards a small cafe with outside seating.
"Well Harry, what do you make of it all so far?"
"It's great. I just wish it didn't all seem so strange. It seems so normal for you all."
"I wouldn't worry too much about it, your mother was raised as a muggle and she fit in just fine. Turned out to be quite a brilliant witch, actually. She had an infectious enthusiasm when it came to learning about magic."
Harry was curious about his mother's handling of being introduced to the wizarding world and wanted to hear more about her time at Hogwarts but Remus was starving an insisted they order first. In the middle of their table sat a small roll of parchment with a quill attached by a fine golden thread. Remus picked it up, hummed thoughtfully and scribbled his order, a simple bowl of soup and bread. He handed it to Harry who was amazed to see the writing fading back into the notebook leaving it blank again, before the words, 'Anything to drink?' appeared all on their own. Remus chuckled at Harry's confusion before apologising and asking Harry to order him a pumpkin juice. Harry ordered a ham sandwich and milk, watching carefully as the words faded from the page again.
"Do you learn how to make things like this in Hogwarts?" He asked.
"You can if you put your mind to it. Hogwarts teaches you the basics of magic which will be more than enough to get you through your day to day life. For example, that scroll was enchanted to communicate with its pair in the kitchen. You learn the basics of enchanting in charms class but its through your own experimentation and practice that you'd come up with that scroll. It's why you don't see many mass produced items in the wizarding world. Your mother was quite the enchantress while your father specialised in Transfiguration."
Harry was about to continue questioning Remus when Hagrid rejoined them, accompanied by a worried looking Hestia.
"Remus. A word," she said quietly, pulling him aside. They walked a few meters from the table so that Harry couldn't tell what they were saying but the hushed tones and erratic hand gestures didn't bode well.
It was then that Harry noticed the man standing amongst the crowd outside Quality Quidditch Supplies glancing over at them. He didn't quite fit in, dressed in muted colours and an overly large robe. Where they were talking animatedly he was standing slightly away, as if wishing to appear part of the crowd without them noticing. Harry recognised the yellowing teeth and bushy cheeks as the wizard smiled at him sending shivers down his spine.
"Remus," he said, getting to his feet and pulling at the older wizard's robes.
"Give me a moment, Harry," he replied, before turning back to Hestia.
The wizard with the mutton chops stepped away from the crowd and started walking slowly towards Harry, passersby occasionally blocking him from view.
Panic started to well up in Harry's chest. "Remus!" Harry practically shouted, pointing in the direction of the man who now had his wand drawn.
Remus must have noticed the urgency in Harry's tone because he looked in the direction Harry was pointing only to be struck by a jet of bright green light. Even as Remus crumpled to the ground silently Hestia had returned spellfire at the wizard who deflected it with ease. All around him people had noticed the altercation and with growing panic in the wake of realisation they started screaming, running to and fro, trying to avoid the duel. The cafe emptied in a flurry of overturned tables.
Harry felt Hagrid grab him bodily and fling him behind his bulk, blocking Harry's view of what was happening, he felt rather than saw the heat from the fire pouring from Hagrid's umbrella in the direction of mutton-chops.
Within moments the alley was in total chaos and Harry himself couldn't fathom what was happening. Why wasn't Remus getting up? Was he that badly hurt? His chest tightened with worry as he moved to help the man.
Dimly he heard Hestia shout to Hagrid, warning him to get Harry out of there but Hagrid was busy pouring fire at a woman with long brown hair, dressed in the same muted colours as mutton-chops. She fired spell after spell at him but Hagrid seemed to absorb most of them without trouble.
"Run Harry!" The huge man bellowed furiously as he fought the witch.
He ignored the shout, shaking Remus, trying to get him to move when he heard Hestia scream in pain and he looked to see her fighting with what was obviously a badly maimed leg.
He was terrified but couldn't bring himself to run from the people who had become his friends in the last few months. He felt his wand in his pocket and drew it, pointing at mutton-chops who was bearing down on Hestia and ran forward swinging it in the wizard's direction, bellowing out with all his might and sparks flew from the holly wand's tip. Mutton chops was blasted from his feet and flew clear across the alley before looking up with pure hatred etched across his face.
It was then Harry saw that more wizards had appeared in bright blue robes and were firing on both mutton chops and the witch duelling Hagrid. He realised that his shower of sparks had done nothing and it was one of the wizards who had just arrived that had saved Hestia.
As the wizards advanced, one grabbed Harry and moved him behind him, still firing on the pair. Realising he was hopelessly outnumbered, mutton-chops shielded a barrage of spellfire, shot one last look of loathing at Harry and poured fire from his wand into the nearby Flourish and Blott's before disappearing with a sharp crack. Another crack followed and he realised that the witch had followed suit.
The whole fight had started and finished in less than a minute leaving Harry in a state of semi-shock. He struggled to comprehend what had just happened around him and judging by the faces scattered around the alley he wasn't alone.
Beside him one of the wizards in blue cursed and rushed to the burning shop, casting spells at the fire as he ran to no avail, it burned with an intensity he could scarcely believe and danced as if it had a mind of its own. He saw people running from the shop in panic but otherwise alright but others... He heard agonised screams coming from the bookstore and with a sickening lurch he realised that people were caught in there. Shopfronts everywhere were battered and smashed by spellfire and glass littered the street.
He made to move towards the shop when a forced pulled him backwards by the navel and he shot forward into the vortex once more..