Muchas gracias to: firewolfalpha, weirdlyyours, Esau, DCoD, fifespice, Weasleylover35753, Poetic License, Nutz Nina, DivineDarkness, and Eternally-Blackrose-Yours.

D'you know what that is? Ten reviewers, that's what that is, for a story that got like two reviews on its first chappie! I am so grateful to you guys, you have no idea. I was really worried that everyone'd think this fic was worthless. (I hope I'm not jinxing myself by gushing about this in front of everyone.)

On that note, harhar, please enjoy one of our last remaining flashbacks.

Chapter Eighteen: Curious

"See that witch, Harry?" Sirius muttered into Harry's ear as they walked down Diagon Alley. "That's Dolores Umbridge. Horriblest, nastiest witch you'll ever meet, my boy—not counting Bellatrix. Wrote all those werewolf codes, remember?"

Harry nodded uncertainly, watching the large toad of a woman waddling in front of them, pointed out by Sirius' bright eyes.

"Now that witch, boy, she's been given some high class Ministry job, but what she really deserves is a good swift kick in the—"

"Sirius!" Lupin swooped upon them and shooed the tall man away. "Lily and James said we could take him school shopping as long as you didn't have a bad influence—"

Sirius snorted with mirth. "Oh, go on, Moony, you old hypocrite. As if you haven't got anything 'bad influence-ish' to say about that Umbridge toad."

Flustered, Lupin walked ahead with his chin out, leading them to a shop signified with "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C." Harry's heart leapt. Finally—his own wand. Hand-held power.

They were greeted by Mr. Ollivander, a man with silver eyes that bulged like rising mercury in old thermometers. "Pleasant afternoon?" he asked them softly. Lupin nodded and made a strained smile, throwing a dirty look at Sirius, who merely smiled innocently back.

"Pleasant," the tired looking man replied. "We're here for young Harry's wand."

"I remember your own, Mr. Lupin," Ollivander muttered. "Unicorn hair and yew, was it not? And you as well, Mr. Black. Those heartstrings of yours came from a particularly pesky dragon." Sirius grinned. The look on Lupin's face told the rest that he was hardly surprised at this piece of insight.

Ollivander continued to reminisce in his velvety voice while he helped Harry go through wand after wand. Meanwhile, Sirius amused himself by enchanting the wands they'd discarded to dance the tango, much to Lupin's chagrin. They'd found one that had glowed a bit miserably made of unicorn hair and cherry wood, but it wasn't until Ollivander had handed Harry one made of holly and phoenix feather that sparks flew.

"Excellent, excellent!" Ollivander cried. "And I wouldn't do that, Mr. Black," he commented to Sirius, who naturally ignored him.

Harry grinned at the wand in his hand. Mr. Ollivander drew close to him. "Curious, curious. Yes, very curious…I'd refrain from continuing with that, Mr. Black," he repeated.

Harry glanced into the lined face. "What's so curious?" he asked, a bit insulted. Was the man making fun of his wand?

"The phoenix, the very phoenix, that gave a feather for this wand gave another, you know. To the wand of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Mr. Potter." He chuckled when Harry gave him a rather odd look. "Oh, the young do not remember him, but we do, boy. Mr. Black…" he warned yet again. Lupin, standing beside Sirius, was too busy paying attention to this remark about "He-Who-Must-Have-Trouble-Being-Called" to reprimand him.

"My parents never told me much about him…" Harry paused uncertainly.

"He did great things. Terrible, but great, you know."

Harry opened his mouth to ask how something could be terrible and great at the same time, but was interrupted by a loud BANG from Sirius' corner.

"Ah—shall we move on then?" the man asked brightly from among the pile of charred wands as Lupin groaned.

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