Neville, on looking up, saw the imposing figure of his grandmother, Augusta… vulture topped hat and all. Harry slowly backed away, telling him that he'd go get backup in a sotto voce.

That left him alone with her, so he didn't exactly answer. Though, he definitely didn't back down from her stare.

"I would appreciate it if you let go of my hand, Grandmother." He bit back, slightly coldly, since he was not fond of the notion that he was to be held back in his magical education just so that she could mould him into a clone of his father.

"Young man, you already have a perfectly matching wand, I don't see why you have the need to come to Ollivander's for one anyway!" Taken aback, Augusta, a stern woman, decided to try to browbeat him into submission.

"I would beg to differ, Dowager Witch Longbottom" Garrick's voice rang out immediately in response. "As a matter of fact, I distinctly remember you having a wand that was diametrically opposing your parents' wands completely." And he was standing right in front of her, with Harry off to the side, clearly sneaking off to get Professor McGonagall. Nevile nodded slightly at Harry as he disappeared, but only after he turned away.

"You would disregard the guardian's will in such an important matter?" Augusta asked.

"You would disregard an expert wandmaker in this matter? In my family's craft?!" Ollivander took that as an insult to his family… which it very well was. "I would ask you not to disregard the fact that it is the wand that always chooses the wizard… always. And a better match you would find nowhere."

"Mr. Ollivander?" Harry interrupted, having caught McGonagall on her way to see the commotion, and filling her in. She wanted to start a right bollocking, but he stepped in before that occurred. "Would you happen to remember the specifications of my parents' wands?"

"Why yes, I could, but it is a private matter. Would you agree to let it be known?" Garrick, intrigued as to what the young man was getting at, humoured him. Harry nodded his assent.

"Your mother's wand… it was a 10¾'' wand, made of willow, and had a core of unicorn hair. Swishy, and geared toward Charms. While your father had an 11'' wand, made of mahogany, with a core of dragon heartstring. Pliable, slightly more powerful, and favoured Transfiguration" He ended thoughtfully.

"Would either of my parents' wands have favoured me?" Harry asked in answer.

"As unique as you are, I would think not. Even your wand is special, more than most would think." Garrick answered.

"Would you mind telling me why you think not?" Harry asked. "If required, please talk about my wand's specifications, without any specifics, of course." he clarified, noting the look of concern on Garrick's face.

"Well, for starters, your wand, Mr. Potter, is an unusual combination, since phoenix feather and holly rarely come together for a wand. This means that any wand with such a combination is to be considered miraculous, well matched to you, given what you're famous for." Garrick began. "However, the bigger reason is that the wand's sparks when joining with their wizard is indicative of the wizard's proclivities. The closer to the core the colors of the sparks, the closer to their core ideals the wizard's proclivities… not to mention how closely they match the source of their wand core. But to match a phoenix's plumage perfectly is unheard of. Especially when the parents' sparks matched so perfectly their cores as well. I highly doubt that you'd find this anywhere else."

Augusta's face was increasingly reddening from the perceived humiliation she was receiving from the indirect dressing down she was getting. McGonagall's disapproving stare served to increase said perceived humiliation, which is why she walked away in a huff, grumbling about disrespect for her wisdom.

Harry sighed, Manny imitating him in his mind. They weren't sure if Augusta would force the issue, which is why they thought to bring in McGonagall. Harry also had a premonition that Augusta would be a bit of a pain. Matters for later.

He smiled instead, clasping Neville's shoulder firmly. "I heard the way you stood up to her. I'm guessing you were going to backtalk her politely if she raised a stink?"

"Mm-Hmm!" Neville nodded. And with that, they returned to Hogwarts with McGonagall.

A/N: OK, so a short one to rejuvenate this fic. Damn. Been a while. I'm having ideas for this fic as well, so I think you can look forward to the updates as well.

Seiichi and his brand of Insanity are off to the Races!