AN: Thanks to TxA-GunFighter for reviewing, I love to know what you guys think of my writing. This chapter isn't as long as some of my others, I found it really difficult to write and it's more of a filler chapter anyway. Hope you enjoy, :)

Lunch was a quiet affair in the Leakey Cauldron, as Remus had cast a glamour on Harry and several notice-me-not charms around the table. None of them wanted to be hounded with reporters while trying to eat their lunch, and Harry found the hero-worship that most of the Wizarding World looked at him with disturbing to say the least. Remus found, to his sorrow, that he could tell more about the lives the two children had lived from observing them than he had in their two-hour conversation in the hospital wing. Although Harry did appear to have been taught table manners at some point, he ate like food was going out of fashion and he appeared to have no trouble polishing off the rather large plate of ham, egg and chips he'd ordered. Rose, on the other hand had only ordered a bowl of soup and she dawdled over her lunch, only finishing the last of it once Harry had declared himself full. Also, when they had entered Rose had chosen the chair that put her back to the wall and she'd positioned it so that she could see all of the doors at once. Shaking his head, Remus finished the last of his lunch, determined to make these children trust him and to try and take some of the weight off of their shoulders if it was the last thing he did.

"Where now?" Harry asked, looking around the pub with interest.

"Madam Malkin's might be best," Remus replied. "We need to get the two of you a full wardrobe and I can drop you off there while I do some shopping of my own." Poppy had briefly spoken to him earlier about the need to make sure that Rose and Harry knew they weren't trying to take away their independence, and he wanted to get Harry a late birthday present anyway.

The shop was pretty crowded, but Harry was soon standing on a stool next to a blond boy having his school robes fitted. Rose wandered the racks of pre-made clothing, grabbing all the necessary items that the two of them would need. Harry, like most other boys his age, didn't really care what he was dressed in as long as it was dry, comfortable and not pink, so she could do without his input. A rather fetching blue dress (suitable for all weathers according to the label) caught her eye and in a rare, impulsive gesture, Rose picked it off the rack and headed to the changing rooms at the back of the shop. It was the work of a moment to slip the blue dress on, as it had none of the fiddly fastenings Rose was used to but instead shrunk and grew with size to fit the wearer, and after grabbing the basket full of clothes in one hand she headed towards Harry. He was chatting with the blond boy, not exactly happily, but he was getting along fairly well. "Nice dress Rose," he said, spotting her coming towards them.

"Thanks," Rose replied. "What do you think?" she added, twirling around and suddenly feeling six years old again as the skirt flared around her legs.

"I like it," Harry agreed. "It suits you. Oh, this is Draco Malfoy, Rose. Draco, this is my sister, Rose."

"Pleased to meet you, Mr Malfoy," Rose said, nodding her head in a sort of bow at him. Remus had given them a crash course in manners before they left Hogwarts, something she was suddenly grateful for, because this boy's clothing screamed money and rich parents.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Rose," the boy replied, bowing back. Rose smiled and smoothed down her skirt. She might buy it, after all, she could do with something nice to wear on occasion. Harry could get away with some simple black, formal robes, but she'd like something a little nicer.

Flourish and Blots was next, as Harry needed quills, ink and school books. They spent nearly two hours in there before Harry managed to drag them out. While Harry enjoyed reading, story books he wasn't particularly into factual books. Remus, on the other hand, loved learning for learning's sake; being able to recite exactly what so-and-so thought about this transfiguration theory had often made him the envy of his friends, and as an adult it was a habit he couldn't break and a handy aid getting a job when so many employers were against werewolves. Rose on the other hand, had a different reason for burying her nose in books. While she did enjoy learning, she valued far more the information she could gain from books. On the streets, she had to know how to keep them safe and anything she hadn't known she had looked up on the internet on the library computers. This world, however, was entirely new to her and Rose was determined to learn everything she could about it, so that she could keep Harry safe. It probably says a lot about her as a person that she didn't even consider simply relying on Remus, but I'll leave that to the amateur psychologists and just say that old habits die hard. By the time they left the book shop, they had nearly twice the amount of books Harry had needed and Remus was very glad that the bag was charmed to be weightless.

Diagon Alley was a bright, colourful place and like any child of his age, Harry was enthralled by it's more unique points. It is probably no surprise then, that his eye was caught by a young snowy owl as they passed Eyeops Owl Emporium. Rose, with her healthy distaste for birds after several brushes with London's pigeon population, refused it at first, but she couldn't say no to him for long and ten minutes later Harry was walking out of the shop carefully carrying a cage with the owl inside, a bag of owl treats and a pamphlet on how to care for owls. Rose had offered to go back to Flourish and Blots to look for a book on caring for Owls, but Harry vetoed it, saying that he wanted to get his wand today please, and they didn't have time for her to read every book in the shop.

And so it went on. They visited the Apothecary, the cobbler, a furniture shop for Harry's trunk and Florean Fortescue's for some ice cream. Finally, they were standing in front of Ollivander's and Harry was going to get a wand. The shop was small and cluttered, but clean, putting Rose in mind of a second hand book shop. There was a counter in front of them, with several shelves behind it, all of them full of long, thin boxes. There was, however, no Ollivander. Harry looked around and opened his mouth to call. He got no further before an old man appeared in front of them. He was not old, exactly, but he looked ... timeless in a way, like the years only touched him lightly. He also looked more than a little mad, but then Rose remembered Albus Dumbledore, and decided that perhaps all old wizards go a little doolally.

"Ah, Mr Potter," the old man said. "I wondered when I'd bee seeing you. It seems only yesterday I was giving your parents their first wands. Elven inches long your fathers, mahogany wood and your mother's was ten and a quarter inches, willow wood. Unfortunately, I didn't make either, so I don't know the cores. Ah, and Remus Lupin, ten and a quarter inches wasn't it, made of Cypress wood and unicorn hair?"

"Yes," Remus replied. "And it's served me very well."

"Ah." He'd reached Rose and he looked at her curiously. "And will you be buying a wand as well, Miss ..."

"Rose," she replied. "And no, I'm not a witch."

"Ah, what a shame! The universe does play cruel tricks. You would be an absolute delight to match, I am sure, one of the most challenging in all my career. Ah well, such is life." He pulled a tape measure out of his pocket. "Right hand out please, Mr Potter." As the tape measure measured Harry, Ollivander flitted about his shop, picking boxes up and putting them down again before returning to the counter. Harry tried many wands. They all seemed to cause some kind of mini explosion when he picked them up and before long Harry was looking anxiously to Remus and Rose.

"It's quite all right, Harry," Remus said. "Sometimes it takes a while to find a wand that will work for you." Ollivander seemed to be having enormous fun though. Every time a wand didn't work for Harry he would snatch it from the boy's hand and push another one at him, urging him to try another and another.

Suddenly, Ollivander stopped and looked at the boy speculatively. "Tell me, how long have you been able to do wandless magic, Mr Potter?" Harry gulped and looked at Rose to answer.

"Six years," she answered. "Why, is it a problem?" She'd noticed that most wizards couldn't do magic without their wands, but she'd assumed that most of what Harry could do had been what Remus called accidental magic. Clearly not.

"Oh, no it's not a problem," Ollivander replied. "It just means I've been giving him the wrong wands. No wonder none of them fitted." He flitted off into the shelves again, coming back with another armful of boxes. These seemed to work slightly better, but it still wasn't good enough for Ollivander. Finally, he paused again. "I wonder ..." He picked another box from the shelves and handed it to Harry. "Holly and phoenix feather, Mr Potter, eleven inches." As soon as Harry gripped the handle, Rose knew it was his wand. Red and gold sparks flew out of the end and a breeze crossed the room, ruffling Harry's hair.

"Curious," Ollivander muttered. "Very curious."

"Sorry sir," Harry said. "But what's curious?"

"The phoenix who's tail feather lies in your wand gave another feather. Just one other. It's curious, Mr Potter, that you should be destined for this wand when it's brother, why, it's brother gave you that scar."

While Harry was concerned about what Ollivander had said, he soon brushed it off with the optimism of youth. Rose and Remus, however, took it more seriously. That night, after Harry had gone to bed in his room in the suite Dumbledore had given them, Rose confronted Remus. "What did he mean, Remus? What will this mean for Harry?"

"Nothing," Remus replied. "His wand has chosen him, for better or for worse. Now, there is nothing for us to do but keep a sharp eye on Harry. If you see anything suspicious Rose, anything at all, tell someone you trust, and tell Harry to do the same. The followers of Voldemort aren't gone, not all of them, and Harry has many enemies who would wish him dead." Rose nodded.

After the rather grim conversation with Remus, Rose headed to bed. Harry's room was just across the hall from hers and she peeked in. The boy was fast asleep, curled up on his side and clutching his new wand to his chest. With Remus' words still echoing in her ears, it was an easy decision for Rose to slip inside, close the door and then climb into bed beside Harry. She loosened the dagger, that she was pretty sure Remus knew nothing about, in it's sheath, making sure she could reach it easily. Nothing would get past her. Not this time.

Don't worry, we'll learn more about Rose's dagger, who she got it from and her past in another chapter, but I can't say anymore now because ssh, spoilers!

On a high note, I have finally updated my computer, so that should no longer be an issue. Yay!

Thanks for reading, Catkin Thief.