A/N: I have more written. This is all that is typed at the moment. All that I ask is please read and review good or bad.

The Loyal Friend

Just Tell Me Why

"C'mon Harry, Madame Malkins is first. We'll go into Quality Quidditch Supplies and Gambol and Japes when everything is done."

"Dad, what if I don't make it into Gryffindor?"

"Then nothing will change. Don't focus on the future, only the present. Everything will work out in the end."

As the family of three walked, the street was full of many bustling to and fro on their daily errands. Children peered into shop windows longing for pranks and games. Adults exchanged the latest gossip and the recent sightings of You-Know-Who.

The dress shop door opened on the right as a family with a girl about Harry's age and her parents walked out.

"Hermione, dear, are you sure you want to do this? These people seem so…different"

Upon hearing this statement, James smiled and gave his wife a wink. Approaching the family, the wizard interjected, "Sir, I couldn't help but overhearing and I was wondering if your daughter was accepted into Hogwarts."

Looking on edge, the man faltered, "Yes, no one in our family is magical. My wife and I are a little worried about our daughter, Hermione."

The man signaled to a bushy-haired, buck-toothed girl next to him.

Lily smiled and offered, "I was in the same position as you, Hermione, many years ago. My name is Lily Potter and this is my husband, James. Our son, Harry, would be pleased to answer any of your questions."

"Thank you very much…."

As the conversation continued, Harry grew quite bored. Taking his father's money sack and Hermione's arm, the youngsters made their way into the shop.

"Hogwart's robes, Mr. Potter?"

"Yes, please Madame Malkins."

As Harry was stepping onto the stool to get fitted, Hermione interjected, "Why does everyone here appear so tense?"

"There is a war. A man named Voldemort has bee raging war against the magical community for 21 years. He wants complete and total control."

"Why would anyone do that?"

"Voldemort is obsessed with pure-bloods, people who have no non-magical blood in their family. He dislikes anyone else and wishes that they do not exist because they supposedly contaminate the wizarding world."

"People like me," Hermione gasped with wide eyes.

"Yes, but you'll be safe at Hogwarts. I promise there is nothing to worry about."

"Are you crazy? I don't want to die!"

"Hermione, magic is something you cannot erase. Have you aver made something happen that you couldn't explain?"

"I did manage to turn the water in a swimming pool into pudding when I was really hungry, but it was just once."

"Haha, that's magic. It never goes away. If you don't go to Hogwarts, those explosions will continue and you'll never be able to control it."

"That's you done, dear," the seamstress commented.

"Thank you Madame Malkins. I'll say hello to my parents for you."

As the two children exited the shop, they were met with four smiling faces.

"Everything go well, son?" James questioned.

"As always, and Madame Malkins says hello."

"She's very kind. Are you lot ready to get going or are we going to stand here all day?"

"Of course," the Grangers chorused. The group spent the afternoon buying books (in which Hermione purchased much more than she needed), filling potions supplies, purchasing owls, and adding ink to wells.

"I think it's just the wand that's left," James stated before the group marched into Ollivanders. The shop was full of dusty shelves covered in shabby boxes. A wizened old man jumped out from behind the shelves to greet his customers.

"Hello, welcome to Ollivanders. Are you ready to purchase your first wands?"

"Yes sir," Harry replied, but Hermione only nodded mutely.

"In that case, Mr. Potter, why don't you go first. Let me get my measuring tape."

As the shopkeeper bustled about, Harry turned toward Hermione, "Why are you apprehensive about getting a wand? This is the best part about going to Hogwarts!"

"What if it doesn't work and I'm not a witch? What if all those weird things that I made happen were just because I'm weird?"

"Hermione, dear, you wouldn't have been given a letter if you weren't a witch. Just watch Harry, then you can have a go," Lily reassured her.

"Here we are Mr. Potter, come stand on the platform." The tape measure took note of his arm length, height, head…. Soon Mr. Ollivander left the tape measure and began to pull out his wands.

"Try this."

Harry gave the weapon a wave, but nothing happened. Snatching the wand from his hand, Mr. Ollivander replaced it with another one. When the second attempt failed yet again, the shopkeeper repeated his previous action. Attempt after attempt, but nothing seemed to work.

"Tricky customer, eh?" Mr. Ollivander said with a smile.

"I guess so, I'm sorry."

"No need to apologize. I wonder if this will work," responded the wizened old man as he produced another instrument.

Slowly grabbing the wand, warmth spread throughout Harry's fingers. Bringing the wand down that a swoosh, red and gold sparks were emitted.

"Very curious."

"What's curious, Mr. Ollivander?" questioned James.

"It just so happens that the same phoenix feather that belongs in that wand comes from a bird that only gave two feathers. The other feather resides in the Dark Lord's wand."

"I, I don't understand, sir."

"Mr. Potter, we can expect great things out of you."

"Thank you, sir," Harry stammered as he made his way over to where the Grangers and his parents were sitting.

"Come, now, dear," Ollivander instructed Hermione.

"I don't understand what Mr. Ollivander was talking about. Why am I so special."

"We'll have a talk later, son. I promise."

Feeling defeated, Harry turned his attention to his new friend.

"Eek!" shouted Hermione when stars projected from her want. "I am a witch!"

"After the two family paid for their purchases, Lily suggested, "why don't we treat you to dinner at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"We couldn't impose…" the Grangers began.

"It would be our pleasure," James insisted.

"In that case, why not?"

"Lils, why don't you get everyone situated. I have one final stop to make."

"But dad, you promised Gambol and Japes and Quality Quidditch Supplies."

"I know, Harry. I'm sorry. You and I can make a special trip here. Okay?"

"Alright," the boy agreed dejectedly.

Later that night when the family had gathered in the living room, Harry questioned his dad over a chess game, "what was Mr. Ollivander talking about today?"

Lily, who was reading, shut the book, paused, and spoke, "it all began before you were born…."