Disclaimer: I own nothing except the things that you don't recognize from J.K. Rowling's amazing series.

From the Beginning

Chapter 1

The old wooden door creaked open, letting in a slight draft, as a young boy entered. He was small and skinny for his age with dark, raven colored hair that went in all directions. He had round glasses on, along with a nervous look in his eyes.

"Ah, yes. James Potter. I've been expecting you. Well, let's get started picking out your wand then, eh." Mr. Ollivander said from behind the counter. The way he spoke was very mysterious. It connected well with his outward appearance of being old but very wise. It was as if he knew everything.

"Yes sir." James spoke with a slight stutter. It was obvious he was intimidated by the old man's presence, but trying to stay bold and show no signs of it.

"Here we go Mr. Potter. 12 inches. Stiff. Oak with a phoenix feather core." came Mr. Ollivander's soft voice.

James waved it a bit not really knowing what to expect. Nothing.

"How about 10 inches of dogwood with a dragon heart core. Very flexible."

Again James took the wand, but nothing happened. Things went on like this for quite a while until Mr. Ollivander got a strange look in his eye as if perhaps he had a vision of some sort. The mischievous grin that was appearing on the old pale face was enough to frighten anyone, but this time James, having found himself, showed no signs of sinking down. Instead he stood tall and acted as though the look was absolutely normal and there was no reason to back down.

"Mr. Potter. 11 inch mahogany wand. Pliable." Mr Ollivander said. His smile only growing larger by the second, the twinkle in his eye never fading.

James, having taken the wand anxiously, felt a sudden warmth in his fingertips. The heat was spreading over his hand and moving throughout his body. His dark, messy hair being blown back. James gave the wand a wave and red and gold sparks shot out of the end.

"Yes. Yes. I should've guessed." Mr. Ollivander stated.

"What is it sir?" James asked.

"This, Mr. Potter, is a very powerful wand and excellent for transfiguration. Those qualities are important to make a wizard almighty. We shall expect great things from you Mr. Potter. Don't disappoint us." Mr. Ollivander responded. With that he went to the back of the store, leaving James to ponder what just occurred.

As James walked outside the cold enveloped him. He fumbled with his cloak as he drew it nearer to his body to keep the warmth close. The wind blew on his face while James wondered what ever happened to the warm sunshine of summer, and how it faded away so quickly. He could still hear the voice of the old man echoing in his head, but pushed it to the back of the mind and continued on with his trip to Diagon Alley. He couldn't be worried about that rubbish when he had to savour is last hours of freedom. The day continued, but he couldn't seem to push the thoughts of old Ollivander's prediction out of his head. Whenever it came back he would remind himself that it was ridiculous and he was nothing out of the ordinary, but the thought remained. It seemed as though the echoing would never cease.

"What a way to spend your last day. Worrying over something that probably isn't worth it. The old man must've lost it in his old age." James thought.

He entered Honeydukes, determined to keep his day a success, and the warmth came over him. Soothing his fingers as they were numb from the cold. He felt a push from behind as he stumbled successfully, though, keeping his balance.

"Hey, watch where you're going punk," a dark haired boy with mysterious grey eyes held all his hidden emotions.

James, not wanting to start anything, turned and left the store once again entering the bitter cold. James faintly remembered that boy as being the oldest of the Black family.

"That's a family of dark magic if I ever did see one." James thought to himself, but heading over to the Quidditch supplies. The rest of the day he spent going in and out of all of Diagon Alley's finest shops. After getting anything he could possibly need or want, James headed home and pitched in for an early night. He would have to get up early for the first day of school tomorrow.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sun shone through the windows catching the eye of a grumbling James, desperately wanting more sleep. The warmth made a smile cross his face. He wanted to lay there all day. No worries, no nothing, but he knew he had to get up. He rolled over, rubbing his eyes to check the time. "10:30! I have to be at King's Cross Station in 30 minutes. How could I have overslept for the first day of school?" James cried while he jumped out of bed, throwing on clothes, and rushing down for breakfast.

"Good morning Master James," the house elf Fogle. "Fogle see Master James finally got up. Fogle was washed and packed all of Master James's clothes and supplies into Master James's trunk. Fogle made Master James breakfast that he has to eat before he can head off to his first day of Hogwarts.

Just after James finished there was a creak of the stairs and James looked up from his breakfast to see a beautiful woman of around 30 with the same raven colored hair as James, though hers was tidy and not a strand out of place.

"Good morning dear. Are you ready to go?" James's mother asked.

"Good morning Mum. Yep. Let me go grab my trunk and we'll head out. By the way, thanks Fogle for the breakfast. It was delicious." James responded.

"No problem Master James. Fogle loves being wanted," Fogle said.

With that, James and his mother grabbed the port key that his mother charmed, and feeling a slight pull behind the navel spun off the a new beginning of spells and friends and pranks that he never imagined possible.