Harry looked blankly at his wrist, as Draco tightened his grip and pulled Harry into Flourish and Blotts. Draco had called him a friend.
He had a friend!
"Wait!" he said, as Draco began to pull him into the fiction section of the store. "I need Professor Snape to help me pick out extra books to help me catch up on magic."
"But that's boring!" Draco whined. "I want to show you my favorite adventure series."
"It's important, Draco. I was serious about proving myself."
"Fiiiine, but I'm showing you my favorites before we leave."
Harry grinned. He had never had anyone so interested in bringing him into their life before. Having a friend was awesome! "Deal."
They waited by the academic section of the store for the adults to catch up, and Harry wasted no time in asking Professor Snape for recommendations to supplement his textbooks. Mr. Malfoy was quick to jump in with his own suggestions, too, and soon Harry had a stack of books almost as tall as himself trailing after him, thanks to Professor Snape's levitation and featherweight spells.
Once Draco heard the reasoning behind why some of the extra books would be helpful, began picking up a few of them for himself, too.
Harry felt oddly proud of himself about that.
Mrs. Malfoy added her own input once they reached the herbology section, pointing out which books had the most accurate pictures and detailed instructions for care under Britain and Scotland's climates.
There was no way Harry would be able to read everything before school started, and still take the notes his brain required to let the information stick, but he was still excited to start learning as much as he could possibly manage. This stack of books was his ticket to the future he wanted for himself, and he was not going to take it fore granted.
"Can we go look at the adventure books now?" Draco asked impatiently.
Harry wasn't going to take Draco's friendship fore-granted, either, and looked imploringly to his chaperone.
"Go," Professor Snape said. "I'll get in line with these. Don't be too long, though."
"We won't!" Harry and Draco both promised.
As it turned out, there were all kinds of wizarding fiction books for kids their age. Harry was awestruck at the selection.
He had never been to a muggle bookstore, either, but his primary school's meager library was dwarfed by Flourish and Blott's adventure section, alone.
"These ones are my favorite," Draco pointed out, gesturing to a selection of short novels labeled 'The Adventures of Inflatable Pete'.
"What makes those ones so good?" Harry asked.
"They've got a ton of action in them, and Inflatable Pete comes up with really creative ways to beat the bad guys, and they are really funny, even then they're being epic," Draco said, insistently.
"That does sound good," Harry admitted. "Do you think I should get the first one, to give it a try?"
"Nope! I'm getting you the first series as a birthday present."
"What? You don't have to do that!"
Draco rolled his eyes. "Friends never have to buy each other presents. We do it because we want to. Good friends accept presents from their friends, too. You are my friend, aren't you?"
Harry swallowed. "Yeah."
"It's settled, then."
Harry wanted to argue further, but didn't know how to without upsetting Draco, so he reluctantly let the matter drop. It did feel pretty good, getting a decent birthday present for once, after all.
Once they were finished paying for their books, the group made their way to Ollivander's wand shop.
The old man, who seemed to appear from nowhere, gave Mr. Malfoy and Professor Snape disapproving looks, before launching into a brief description of each of their wands, and what they were best at casting.
Harry tried to memorize the details, wondering which properties of each wands' design were responsible for their strengths.
"Now, which of you lads would like to go first?" Mr. Ollivander asked. "Looks like we've got a little Malfoy here - Draco is it? – and, ah, yes, Harry Potter. I was expecting you here sooner or later."
Harry shuffled uncomfortably at being recognized so easily. Professor Snape was clearly not exaggerating about his fame. "Draco, you go first."
Draco nodded sagely, and walked up to the desk with his shoulders squared and his head held high. He was either very confident, or very nervous. Harry could feel his own knees wobbling with the terror that none of the wands would work for him, so Harry would not blame Draco at all, if he was scared, too.
The first wand that the old man handed Draco was swiftly snatched back, before the boy had even had a chance to swish it around. Draco looked affronted at the theft, but Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy did not seem upset, so Harry figured that the old man was just a little eccentric, and everything was normal.
It took a long time, and many wands, before Mr. Ollivander was finally satisfied that Draco had found a match.
"Hawthorn wood, ten inches, with a unicorn hair core. Reasonably springy. A very respectable wand indeed," Mr. Ollivander said, before looking up and directly at Mr. Malfoy with a piercing gaze. "Resistant to channeling dark magic, prone to bond with a young wizard on the cusp of turmoil or change. Very good for transfiguration and defensive spells. A bit of an unexpected match, but we got there in the end, eh?"
Mr. Malfoy's jaw tensed, but he remained silent, and merely placed a protective hand on his son, as Draco rejoined his parents, gripping his new wand as if it might disappear forever if he let it go.
It was Harry's turn, and he quickly looked to Professor Snape, who nodded at him, before stepping up to the unsettling, strange old man.
Like Draco, it took many failed attempts before Harry found a wand that felt right. He flicked his wrist and a shower of sparks lit the little shop in a twinkling cascade.
"Very good, Mr. Potter, very good, and yet curious, too."
"Curious, how?" Harry asked.
"Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple; an unusual combination as it is, but…" the man hesitated, glancing again at Mr. Malfoy and Professor Snape, and lowered his voice to a whisper, "the phoenix who gave its tail feather for this wand, Mr. Potter, gave one other feather, just the one, and I used that feather in a wand that chose a small boy named Tom Riddle; a boy who grew to become a terrible dark wizard by the name of, well, You-Know-Who."
Harry took a startled step back. "My wand shares a core with the wand that killed my parents?"
He heard a gasp behind him.
Mr. Ollivander looked both sad and anxious. "Made of yew. Thirteen and a half inches. A very powerful wand, very powerful. And it latched onto that boy as if, well, if I'd known what it would be destined to do, when I sold it…"
"That will be all, Mr. Ollivander," Professor Snape cut in, gliding up next to Harry in a way that still made Harry think of a vampire. He wondered if his robes would be as swooshy, when he wore them.
"But," Harry protested, looking down at the wand in his hand, "do I have to use this one?"
"The wand chooses the wizard, Harry," Mr. Ollivander said, even as he shuffled further away from Professor Snape. "This wand, like its brother, is capable of great things, but what kind of greatness, remains up to you. Perhaps it is your destiny to balance the terrible greatness of your wands brother with a greater good, instead."
"He has no obligation to do anything of the sort. He's just a child, and deserves to have a childhood. How much do we owe you?" Professor Snape asked tersely.
Mr. Ollivander gave the adults one more wary look, before giving the totals owed for the wands, and the group hurried out of the shop.
"What a sanctimonious prick," Professor Snape muttered, before turning a harsh look at Harry. "Don't let me catch you using that kind of language."
Harry gave his professor a cheeky grin. "Sanctimonious?"
"Quiet, brat. Don't pay any attention to what Mr. Ollivander said in there. You don't need to worry about balancing anything, just focus on doing well at school, and having fun with your friends. That's enough."
"But…"
"It's enough. It's all Lily would have wanted for you. You are not destined to be some hero, or savior, Potter. If I catch you sneaking off to try and save the world, I will give you detention for the rest of your life."
Harry snickered. "I'll do my best to ignore the temptation to get myself killed for the greater good. He really was a sanctimonious… bloke."
Professor Snape scowled at Harry, but there was no anger in it, no danger. If anything, it seemed like they were playing a game.
"What else do we need?" Mr. Malfoy asked, with a little bit too much enthusiasm. He had been oddly quiet since Draco had gotten his wand.
They visited a few more shops, purchasing quills, ink, parchment, and other odds and ends that Harry and Draco would need for school, before coming to the owl emporium.
They had saved it for last, since stowing an owl in a shrunken trunk was not advisable, and a caged owl would be inconvenient to carry through the narrow isles and cramped spaces of most of the other shops.
Draco immediately veered over to the large eagle owls on display, but Harry was drawn to a surly looking black owl that had been tucked in an isolated cage near the back.
"What kind of owl is this one?" Harry asked, noting the sign that warned against sticking one's fingers through the bars of the cage.
"Half dragon, half demon," the shop attendant quipped. "Be careful with that one."
The owl puffed up its feathers indignantly. Harry laughed and wiggled his fingers just out of reach of the cage.
The bird nipped at them, but missed, his beak clicking loudly against the cage's bars.
"I like him," Harry said.
"Of course, you do," Professor Snape deadpanned. "Are you sure you wouldn't rather have a friendlier bird?"
"He's just lonely," Harry insisted, willing himself to project an air of calm authority and safety at the animal.
"If you are found pecked to death before the school term even starts, the Malfoys and I will have a nice roast-owl dinner in your memory, Potter."
"We'll be fine, Professor. We just need to get used to each other, is all."
"It's your money, and your funeral, I suppose, but if that bird attacks me, I reserve the right to pluck its flight feathers."
"Severus has a point, Mr. Potter," Mr. Malfoy said, with a hint of amusement. "Your owl will be delivering mail to your friends and allies. An ill-tempered owl can leave a poor impression."
"He'll be good, I promise. He just needs to know that someone cares about him."
"I care about you," Draco said, coming over and sticking his face perilously close to the cage's bars. "You're a good bird, aren't you?"
The owl flapped his wings wildly and struck at the cage again, making Draco jump.
"See?" Draco said, with a laugh. "He's saying hello!"
"You're both mad," Professor Snape said. "Very well, let's take the beast and get out of here. Fortescue's is waiting."