Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, I make no money from this fan fiction though it would be cool if I did.  However, it would be morally wrong, and so I write this for just pure enjoyment (mine and maybe yours).  J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter.

The hours dragged by and Harry was getting tired from sitting in one place for so long.  He gazed out the window.  I hope Hedwig is okay.  He hid his yawn as Mr. Ollivander handed him yet another wand saying, "Seven inches mahogany."  Harry grabbed the wand and gave it a flick.  Mr. Ollivander immediately snatched the wand out of his hand, shaking his head. "You're even trickier than last time."  He handed Harry another wand with the same result; Marik shook his head again and Harry sighed.

"Mr. Ollivander could you tell the story while we search?"

The old man smiled and said, "It's Marik, and yes I'll start the telling"

            His face became closed and he said, "I suppose I should start by telling you this: your name is not just Harry James Potter; it is Harry James Evans Black-Potter.  Your mother's parents were the squib children of dying pureblood families.  Their names were Frederick Evans and Rose Mandolin.  Rose had been married before and widowed for about a year before she met Frederick.  Her first marriage was to a Muggle and it produced your aunt Petunia.  After he died, she met and fell in love with Frederick.

"It is very rare for Squibs to meet each other after they have been exiled from their families.  Though in all fairness, their exile was a self imposed one.  Though again, in all fairness, they had little choice, for squibs are often ridiculed.  After Frederick and Rose's secret was discovered, all of their friends abandoned them.

"Anyway, after they married, Lily was born.  And, of course, being a baby and Frederick's blood daughter, she received a bit more attention than Petunia.  It is from this that I believe your aunt's hatred of magic originates.  You can imagine how pleased they were when they found that their daughter was a witch."

Harry nodded and felt the faint stirring of pity for Aunt Petunia.  "That explains the Evans, but how do you explain the Black?"

Olli…Marik smiled at his impatience and said, "I'll get to that soon; I have to finish with your mother's story first.  Now where was I?  Ah yes.  Your mother's parents raised her to believe that she was Muggle born, so she was surprised when, after they died, she received a letter telling her she had pureblood grandparents and that they had left her everything, including a few rather large Castles."

He paused and seeing Harry's impatience said, "Yes, yes, on to the Blacks.  You know that your father and Sirius Black were close friends, right?"  He barely waited for Harry's nod before continuing.  "At the end of their seventh year at Hogwarts, they conducted a ritual which bonded them by blood and Magic.  It literally made them brothers.  In all senses, they were brothers when the ritual was completed…much to the displeasure of Sirius's mother, I might add.  She even came in here to ask me if there were any way she could possibly break the bonding.  I could not, of course.  The ceremony requires two witnesses; I believe they were Remus Lupin and your mother.  So it was a witnessed "birth," after which Sirius became the next heir to the Potters after James and James became the next heir to the Blacks after Sirius."

Harry interrupted, "Why didn't they bond with Professor Lupin?  And why was Sirius's mum upset?"

"To answer your first question: The bonding of blood would have made the other two werewolves.  And to answer the second: Sirius's mother didn't like the fact that James's family had a history of consorting with Muggles."

Harry thought for a second and asked, "So why haven't I heard of any of this?"

The answer was one word, but it spoke volumes: "Dumbledore."

"I see, but I've seen my birth certificate, and it doesn't say either 'Evans' or 'Black,'" Harry said, puzzled.

"I imagine that the certificate that the Muggles had was a false one given to your aunt by Albus."

Harry nodded and asked, "How do you know all this?"

"I am the official record keeper of the wizarding community of Britain.  I therefore know everything about all British Witches and Wizards, be they Muggle born, Half Blood, New Blood, Old Blood, or Ancient Blood."

"What are those?" Harry asked.

"What are what?"

"The last three you mentioned: 'New Blood,' 'Old Blood,' and 'Ancient Blood.'"

Marik looked at him in surprise for a few moments.  Then he shook his head ruefully and answered, "'New blood' refers to pureblood families that are two hundred to three hundred years old, 'Old Blood' refers to families one thousand to one thousand, five hundred years old, and 'Ancient Blood' is even older.  All of your families are ancient.  The Evans family originates in Ireland.  They were among the first of the ancient Druids.  The Potters first lived in the north lands among the Germanic Hordes.  Later they came down as War Mages for the Vikings raiders.  The Blacks originated somewhere in Greece.  They have been around almost as long as the Evans family and slightly longer than the Potters.  There are only a few ancient pure blood families left.  Mine, of course, is one, as is Dumbledore's, the Longbottoms's, and a few others."

Marik paused.  He had just noticed that he had run out of wands to have Harry try.

He said to Harry, "I don't have anymore phoenix wands, except…."

His eyes darted toward the window.

"Wait here."

He walked toward the window and picked up the wand lying on the cushion.  He rushed back to Harry and handed him the wand, saying, "Here.  Try this one."

Harry picked up the wand and felt a surge of power.  In his pocket his wand shot off a stream of crimson sparks, and when Harry took it out, he felt it vibrating.  He pressed the tip of his wand to the tip of the new one.  Silver and gold sparks shot out of them and Marik clapped.

"Curious," he said.  "Curious indeed."

Harry asked him, "What's curious this time?"

"Harry, the wand you now hold in your hand was the first wand my family ever made.  It is made from the wood of a Manaris tree, the tree of magic.  It was the last bit of wood from the last tree of magic, and it was the only wand that never worked in my ancestor's hand.  It's curious because your wands are made of the Tree of Life and the Tree of Magic.  Very curious indeed."

"I admit it's curious, but something just occurred me."

"What's that?"

"You still haven't told me what a warlock is."

Marik smiled and continued his explanations: "A warlock nowadays is any wizard.  However, the term used to apply only to a wielder of wild magic, the magic that can't be touched by just one wand.  The ancient warlocks usually had a wand and then a focus so that their wand could access their magic.  But since you are a powerful warlock, you need to have two wands because the magic is too diverse in nature ever to be truly successful.  In fact, you'll find that your magic will improve when you use two wands, one for some subjects the other for other subjects."

Harry still looked puzzled and asked, "Why now?  Why not when I first came in?"

"When you first came in, your magic was diverse, but it was also small.  Magic is a lot like the vessel that contains it.  It grows bigger and changes as you get older."  He paused and smiled.  "You've noticed in the past few years that your magic is often small or it is too large—that the simplest spell is sometimes overdone or too weak?"

Harry thought for a moment and then nodded, and Marik continued, "As you go through puberty, so does your magic.  That you now need two wands is evidence that your magical maturation is complete.  It will grow still more as will your body, but as of now it is as "matured" as it's going to get."

The explanation left Harry even more confused, but he decided to shrug it off.  After all, he needed two wands.  It didn't matter why.  And Marik had said that he would be better at magic. If Harry was to defeat Voldemort, he needed to be strong and better in magic.  That thought led to another one: "Is Voldemort a Warlock?"

Marik thought for a moment before responding, "His blood it old enough for it, but he never needed a second wand, so he might just have a focus.  Or he might not be.  He is extremely powerful, whatever the case, so always be wary."

Harry nodded.  As if he didn't know!

"I still don't understand about wild magic.  There has to be more to it or else there would be Warlocks everywhere."

Marik nodded again and said, "I'll explain about your magic when I start teaching you."

"You're going to be teaching me?"

"Yes I am."

"But we aren't allowed to use magic outside of school."

Marik smiled mysteriously.  "In a few days all Hogwarts students will be receiving notices from the ministry telling them they can use magic."

Harry grinned.  "When'll we start?"

"Day after tomorrow.  You'll be staying with me until we get you trained.  I'll floo Tom and tell him to have your things brought over."

Harry accepted this with a nod and asked, "Why can't we start tomorrow?"

"Because tomorrow you're going to Gringotts so we can make you a family tapestry."

Harry nodded his acceptance and yawned.  "Could you please show me where I'll be sleeping?"

Marik nodded and motioned for Harry to follow.  He led Harry into the back, and, looking around, Harry was amazed by the size of it.  He told Marik so and Marik looked at him as if to say, "You're really stupid," but he only said that even Wand Makers deserved to sleep.

Finally Harry entered his room.  Unsurprised to find Hedwig on the perch by the window, and stopping only to take off his shoes, he fell into bed.