Chapter One The Wand Chooses the Wizard

James Potter sat up in bed. 9:00 A.M. Today is the day, he thought, Today I'll know if I can go to Hogwarts and learn magic. James put his glasses on, and ran his fingers through his untidy black hair. He liked it messy. His father, Nathan Potter, was a wizard. His mother, Elizabeth, had been a witch, but she had died when he was six. With luck, today James would receive his letter of acceptance into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the finest school of magical learning in Britain. Of course, James was not completely surprised to find that his abilities were magic -- ?he had grown up in the magical world and was accustomed to such things. His father had even bought him a toy broomstick when he was four.

Nathan Potter worked in the Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Magical Games and Sports. He had taught James all about Quidditch (fourteen players, four balls, and six hoops). It was played on broomsticks, and James, though he wasn't sure he was supposed to, had already had some coaching from his dad, who had been captain of his Quidditch team at Hogwarts.

He remembered when he was little his mother used to tell him stories about Hogwarts, the giant lake near the castle, the greenhouses, the Forbidden Forest.... James had always wished he too would be able to experience it, and today was the day he'd finally know for sure.

Well, no sense in waiting. He hurried downstairs.

"Dad, is the mail here yet?"

"Wait a moment, James, I'm reading the paper." was Mr. Potter's unconcerned reply.

James did not care to wait. He ran up to the kitchen counter, rifled through the mail, and snatched a yellowing parchment envelope bearing a green crest ¾ a large "H" encircled by a lion, badger, raven, and serpent. He ripped it open in excitement.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
???

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter:

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted
at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed
a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later
than July 31.
Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress

"YES! I'M IN!" James yelled, to no one in particular. He jumped for joy. "Dad, I'M IN! I'VE BEEN ACCEPTED TO HOGWARTS!"

"Congratulations, son!" said Mr. Potter heartily, putting down the paper. "I knew you had it in you!"

James tore open the next envelope, and began reading the supply list:

HOGWARTS SCHOOL
of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
¾¾¾¨¾¾¾

Uniform
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.

Course Books
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)
by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi
by Phyllida Spore
Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them
by Newt Scamander
The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection
by Quentin Trimble

Other Equipment
1 wand
1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set glass or crystal phials
1 set brass scales
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED
THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.

"Dad, can we go to Diagon Alley to get my school stuff today?" asked James.

"Er...I suppose so, James, get your shoes on." Mr. Potter said. He walked to the fireplace, and James walked along beside him. "Seeing as you're too young to Apparate, we'll be taking Floo powder." he said, indicating a small pot near the poker.

James had traveled by Floo powder before; it wasn't that difficult. All you had to do was scoop up a handful of the greenish powder, stand in the fireplace, and say clearly the name of your destination.

"I'll go first, dad." James eagerly volunteered. He walked into the fireplace, careful not to bump his head. He already had his hands full of Floo powder. "DIAGON ALLEY!" he shouted, and he vanished with a flicker of green flames.

Mr. Potter followed suit, and ended up beside his son outside a fireplace in a pub that James recognized as the Leaky Cauldron. James brushed the soot off his shirt, adjusted his glasses, and followed his dad out of the Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley. At the end of the alley he could see an enormous marble building. Mr. Potter pointed at it. "That'll be Gringotts, James, our first stop."

The Potters were a considerably wealthy family - James's grandparents were rich Aurors and had left his father's family quite a fortune. As they approached the large set of doors James noticed a golden plaque above the knocker on the door. Engraved upon it were the words:

Enter, stranger, but take heed
Of what awaits the sin of greed.
For those who take, but do not earn
Must pay dearly in their turn.
So if you seek beneath our floors
A treasure that was never yours,
Thief, you have been warned, beware
Of finding more than treasure there.

At the sight of this warning, James's father said, "You'd have to bloody mad to rob Gringotts, you would. Goblins wouldn't like, sure, but it's not goblins you have to worry about down there..."

"Is it that dangerous?" said James.

"Only if you plan to steal," Nathan replied as they walked in, "but I've yet to read of a Gringotts break-in in the Daily Prophet that didn't end in a dismembered body sent back to the entrance in a mine cart, or somebody's head hanging from a torch bracket. Even if a thief did manage to get some money out of the vaults, he'd have a hell of a time trying to get out. The underground is a maze; only a goblin can get you around there. Then again, I can't imagine anyone being that thick, what with the warning right there by the door," he chuckled.

They walked through the immaculate entrance hall. To James's left and right stood desks, and behind the desks stood goblins on stools scribbling with quills, weighing Galleons (golden wizard money) with brass scales, checking for counterfeit Knuts. Nathan, followed by James, walked up to an available desk and said to the goblin behind it, "Withdrawal from vault 426, please."

The goblin made a surly face and said, "I presume you have your key. Very well," he scowled, "Ripclaw, withdrawal from vault 426, get the trolley." He pointed a long, wrinkly finger at Nathan. "You," he said, "are to follow Ripclaw."

"Ah," Nathan said, glancing at the goblin named Ripclaw. "Well, thank you." He turned away and walked toward Ripclaw and the trolley, signaling James to follow. When they had entered the trolley, Ripclaw smiled a disgusting smile and advised them they might want to buckle in. But right when the reached for their belts, Ripclaw entered the trolley and pulled the lever before they had a chance to fasten their seatbelts. James's stomach gave a lurch. The cart was moving so fast it felt like his head was stuck to the headboard. It might have been somewhat thrilling had he not needed to vomit. He managed a glance at his father, whom he could tell was not faring much better, judging by the sickly green color his face was turning. At last the cart came to a stop and, with an unpleasant screech, they were thrown forward onto the track. James retched right then and there, but his father groaned and stood up, coming to his senses. "Vault 426," Ripclaw said cheerfully. "You may proceed."

"Pleasant little fellow, isn't he?" James said to his father as they walked up to the entrance to the vault. Nathan coughed, then turned the key into the lock. Immediately the vault began to slide open. "Bloody hell," said James, "This is ours?"

"Yes," said Mr. Potter, and he began to fill his moneybag with many coins from the mound of golden Galleons, silver Sickles, and little bronze Knuts in the Potter family vault. James rushed up the heap and filled his satchel to the brim, too. James had never went to the bank with his father when they had been to Diagon Alley together; usually he just hung out in the ice cream parlor or sometimes had a butterbeer in the Leaky Cauldron, the pub they had exited that stood as an entrance to Diagon Alley. He had never seen this much money in one place before. When they had collected their wizard gold, Mr. Potter locked the vault, and he and James entered the cart, this time making certain they had fastened their safety belts. Ripclaw hopped in once again, and pulled the lever to start the ride back to the entrance hall of Gringotts bank.

***

James stepped out into the fresh air of Diagon Alley. It was a cool, crisp day, quite cool, in fact, for July. His father followed him out of Gringotts in a good mood. The cart ride back wasn't that bad, and his stomach seemed to have settled down. He said to James, "Now, what's first on your list? Robes? Well, you can do that by yourself. I expect I'll go down to Flourish and Blotts to buy your--"

"Nathan!" a grinning wizard in red robes had approached cheerfully. "Long time, no see, old friend. But surely you remember me? I mean, captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, prefect...is this your son? James, isn't it? He's a big Quidditch fan, I'm sure. I mean, you did take home the Quidditch Cup for Hufflepuff three years in a row...best Hufflepuff's done in...what was it? Twenty-six years?" he chuckled, "I'm sure Amos here is looking forward to playing your lad," he indicated the boy about James's age to his left, "I just bought the top of the line Cleansweep 6 for him, hope he puts it to good use....No question about him making the Quidditch team. Like father, like son, I always say...." James dearly hoped this saying wasn't true for the red-robed wizard and his son. Five more minutes of this rubbish would have him raving mad. He hoped they would just get a move on.

"Yes, Everard, It's been a while." Mr. Potter said bitterly.

"Quite so, quite so, Nate. Whaddaya say to a brandy with me in the Leaky Cauldron? I'm sure they boys will get along just fine." He winked heartily.

"I could use a drink right now." Mr. Potter forced a smile.

"Well then, boys, we'll be in the Leaky Cauldron if you need us, just get the rest of your things, why not have an ice cream afterwards? Nice meeting you Jimmy," Everard shook James's hand. He hated it when people called him Jimmy.

Mr. Potter and Everard walked away, with Everard rambling on about the Quidditch World Cup. James turned to the boy, who said, "Hi. I'm Amos. Amos Diggory."

"James Potter."

"Nice to meet you. What house you going for?"

"House? Oh, at Hogwarts. Well I was thinking about Gryffindor. Any house is fine, really. Wherever my friends go." he added. He hadn't yet made any friends, and this Diggory boy, he thought, did not count.

"Slytherin," Diggory said, "Now there's a bad lot."

From what James could tell, everyone hated Slytherin.

Diggory continued, "Have you got your wand yet? I've still got to get mine, and Ollivander's is close by."

James noticed a wooden sign above an oak door that proclaimed the shop to his left Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 b.c. "Nope," he said, "Haven't gotten it. Might as well, though."

James was eager to purchase a wand. He already knew some impressive spells, and he was certain that he would buy more than the required books at Flourish and Blotts. Yes, he decided, robes could wait. He walked up to the door and entered the shop.

***

The shop was dusty, and James, upon entering, observed countless aisles of shelves stacked with boxes - boxes on the floor, boxes on racks attached to the ceiling. It seemed to be a rather small shop with far too many items crammed into one space. As far as he could tell, there wasn't anyone inside the store but he and the Diggory boy. He walked over to what looked like what might have been a desk under a pile of clutter. There was a tiny bell next to a stack of papers, and James, not knowing what else to do, rang it gently. The bell did not make a sound one would expect a normal bell to make. This bell, instead, hopped off the desk and screamed, "CUSTOMERS!" and Diggory gave a start so suddenly that he knocked over a small pile of boxes.

An old man emerged from behind an aisle a little way from where they were standing. "Customers? Oh, hello there, children. Hogwarts? Yes, I remember when I went there myself. You," he said, pointing to James, "What is your name?"

"James Potter, sir." James replied.

"Oh, a Potter!" the old man cried gleefully. "Why, it seems it was only yesterday when your father, Nathan, was in here buying his wand. Twelve and a quarter inches of maple, quite supple, as I recall. Yes, time does seem to fly. Now boy, let me see your wand arm..." James stretched out his right hand, and Mr. Ollivander, taking hold of his wrist, snapped his fingers at a couple of tape measures on the desk. As if on command, the tape measure sprang up, unrolled and began circling James, measuring his arm, his palm, and his wrists. Ollivander, who was watching, took a clipboard and carefully recorded the numbers. After a minute or so he laid the clipboard and said, "That will do. I think I have just the thing!" he clapped his hands, and the tape measures rolled up and settled down on the chair. "Thank you, Doris," he added, patting a tape measure fondly.

By this time, Amos was getting annoyed. He had never been ignored before. He waited impatiently for his turn at choosing a wand. He was beginning to like this Potter character less and less. Why did everyone pay attention to him? He sneezed, and removed a bag of lemon drops from his pocket.

James (feeling silly) waved a wand Mr. Ollivander had tossed him around. "No, not the one," the old man said. "No matter, the more difficult the wand to find, the more it suits its wizard. We'll yet find you a match. Try this." he tossed a box at James. "Beech wood and a unicorn hair, thirteen and a half inches."

James opened the lid of the box and removed the wand from its case. He took it in his hand and shook it around. It was quite swishy. James did not know what was supposed to happen, but he could tell that this was not the wand for him when a filing cabinet toppled over and hit Doris the tape measure right in the face. "Tricky customer, are we? Well, well, lets see what this one makes of you." He handed James another box, taking this one from high atop the shelf. "Eleven inches. Mahogany. Quite pliable and excellent for Transfiguration, with a tail-feather from a healthy phoenix at the core. Go on, give it a wave."

This was boring. Amos had sat through James's trials of about thirty different wands. He watched as the Potter boy took the next in his hand and waved it once more. Well, this one wasn't it eith -

A jet of gold sparks flew from the tip of the wand in James's hand. He was pleased to note that they had singed Diggory's hair. "Interesting," Ollivander said as Amos fidgeted with his hair. "Especially interesting." James was about to ask exactly what was so interesting when Mr. Ollivander set the matter aside, saying, "That'll be seven galleons please. Now, you," he pointed at Diggory. "Get up here and let's get you a wand.'

The tape measures set out to work again, and Mr. Ollivander sat down at his desk. James walked up to him, wand in hand. "Excuse me, sir. C-could you please tell me why you said 'interesting' when I picked my wand? I'm just curious."

"It's nothing about you, Potter. I just find it strange that that wand chose you as its master. You see, that wand was destined not for you, but for another boy, an orphan boy who had the marks of prodigy upon him. That wand would make a fine young wizard, and yet he did not choose it. No, he chose a powerful wand of yew, defying destiny and perhaps sealing his own doom. I believe you know of whom I speak. You do, perhaps, know of Grindelwald, the Austrian wizard credited for mass murder throughout Russia and western Europe? He, prior to his defeat by Hogwarts headmaster Albus Dumbledore, sought out the orphan boy and ensured that he would not receive the wand that could have brought him greatness. Seeing the child's gifts, he ensured that the wand of yew fell into his hands, so placing the mark of a Dark wizard upon him. The wand you hold is the wand that, perhaps, would have prevented his corruption. Though it may seem purely coincidental, I shall come to expect great things from you. I advise to not to worry, and to remember that hatred and fear are not appropriate methods to achieve your goals." he concluded, and handed a box to Diggory.

When Amos had received and paid for his wand, James, still thinking about Ollivander's words, exited the shop, with Diggory rambling and the door creaking in his wake.