The Unexpected House

Diagon Alley

One wild cart ride later they stood blinking in the sunlight outside Gringotts. Harry didn't know where to run first now that he had a bag full of money. He didn't have to know how many Galleons there were to a pound to know that he was holding more money than he'd had in his whole life, more than even Dudley had ever had.

"You should buy… let me see, yes go buy some quills and parchment" said Hagrid pointing at the nearby store, Amanuesis Quills "Listen Harry, would you mind if I go for a pick me up at the Leaky Cauldron? I hate those Gringotts cars". He was still quite green, so Harry entered by himself.

Surprisingly, the store wasn't boring at all; rather it was filled with incredible objects, quills that moved on their own, inks that glowed or changed colours, luxurious parchments that changed sized. To Harry it was confirmation that this was all that he was looking for; this world was simply so… magical.

There were lots of things he wanted to buy, yet he found himself ignorant as to what to buy. Thankfully the storekeeper helped him when she realized he was going to Hogwarts. Although she refused to sell him certain products, laughing and mentioning she didn't want his parents to come back to the store and return the products that weren't 'appropriate' for Hogwarts; Harry didn't know how to tell her his parents had died.

At the end, he came out quite happily with his purchase of some very nice parchments, colourful quills similar to those of peacocks and an incredible ink that gleamed in different colours. Before he could worry about what he should do next, Hagrid appeared smiling with two large ice creams.

They sat to eat the ice cream, and after showing him what he had bought (Harry got the distinct impression that Hagrid thought he had spent too much), he asked him what a muggle-born was.

"Muggle-born, who mentioned you that?" Hagrid inquired without answering.

"The shopkeeper asked me when I asked for pens to write with, they didn't have any Hagrid!"

"Of course they didn't have any, we wizards write with quills, not with those strange pens" Hagrid gave him a side-glance before going on "muggle-borns are those witches and wizards who were born from muggle parents"

"So, I wouldn't be one, right?"

"Of course not, your parents were great wizards" Hagrid said, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief "not that there's anything wrong with being a muggle-born mind you. Lots of great wizards and witches like your mother, were muggle-born"

"Really?" Harry said wide-eyed.

"Really. So there's nothing for you to worry about"

After finishing their ice creams, they went to Madame Malkin, where a slightly taller blond boy was just leaving. A squat, kind-faced woman dressed in mauve attended him.

"Hogwarts dear?" she said bringing him in front of some large rectangular mirrors that faced him from various angles.

Harry almost fell over when he was (at least it seemed to him at first) attacked by a pair of magical tape measures. The pair quickly went to measure his hip, then from shoulder to finger, from finger to wrist and so on. Harry noticed that the parchment (that was floating) in front of Madame Malkin, had some numbers that were appearing each time one of the tapes finished measuring.

"You're quite skinny, aren't you?" she pinched his cheek before turning to Hagrid and raising an eyebrow.

"From the war" answered the groundskeeper quite evasively.

"Hmm" she sighed "one would think that we could take better care of our own"

Harry didn't know what a war had to do with him being skinny, but he thought he wouldn't get an answer even if he asked.

He quickly forgot the exchange as he saw how the new clothes were being made. A trio of witches and wizards were using their wands, quickly cutting and seamlessly joining fabrics until, in an almost blink of an eye they were ready. It would have been at least a few days for muggles!

From there they went to Flourish & Blotts, a bookstore where the books were piled up till the roof. Books like Harry had never seen, of all sizes, with strange symbols and cover-bound from leather to silk. Regrettably he couldn't convince Hagrid to buy 'Hexes and Counter-Hexes' by Vindictus Viridian; according to him he needed a lot more study to reach that level. Regardless, all the books he bought looked quite interesting and he couldn't wait to read them.

They continued with their shopping, were each store seemed more interesting than the last. From where they bought his cauldron, that seemed taken from antiquity; to some weight scales that threw off the ingredients if it was more than the maximum weight they could measure; to a beautiful bronze telescope, instead of brass (Harry had to convince Hagrid, but after buying by himself the scrolls and inks, he had gathered some courage).

The apothecary managed to surprise him even more. There were hundreds upon hundreds of ingredients that Harry (he wasn't sure how) knew were magical without even looking at their names; from unicorn horns to beetle eyes, to all kinds of feathers, scales, claws and skins.

Outside the apothecary, Hagrid read Harry's list again.

"Wand's all that's missing" and Harry's face light up, it was what he most desired ever since he read the list.

"And I still haven't given you a birthday gift" Hagrid smiled.

Harry blushed and stuttered that it wasn't necessary.

"Of course it's necessary, everyone's birthday should be celebrated. Let's see… yes, I'll buy you an owl, all the kids want one and they're very useful, they bring you the post and everything"

A few minutes later they entered Eeylops Owl Emporium, a shadowy store filled with all types of owls like, barn owls, scops owls and tawny owls. Hagrid, who got along splendidly with the owner, actually managed to convince him to let Harry take a beautiful snowy owl that the owner refused to sell unless the client surpassed certain requirements.

Harry didn't stop thanking him until they reached the next store.

A tall and narrow store of worn-out, purple-painted wooden panels towered over Harry. In golden letters that glowed without the sun shining on them read 'Ollivanders – Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC'

When Harry entered he noticed a rather strange tickle in his nape, that was rapidly forgotten when he appraised the store. It was similar to Flourish & Blotts in that it was filled with shelves (even taller in the case of Ollivanders) but instead of being filled with books, they were filled with thin and beautiful boxes, stacked in each shelf until a roof that not even Hagrid could reach.

"Good afternoon" said a soft and tremulous voice.

Harry and Hagrid jumped, and Harry who was perusing the shelves, made sure to move quickly to meet the ancient, white-haired wizard with big eyes that glowed liked moons in the shadows of the store.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander" grumbled Hagrid.

"Rubeus Hagrid! It's a pleasure to see you once again. Hmm… oak, sixteen inches, and rather bendy if I recall correctly"

"That's right sir"

"A good wand. Regrettably, I can only assume that they broke it in half when you were expelled" his face darkening suddenly as if he considered Hagrid the guilty party.

"Uhm, yes, that's what they did, yes" answered Hagrid with his eyes fixed on the floor "but, but I still got the pieces"

Ollivander's eyes lost part of their coldness as he examined the umbrella from afar, as if he could guess the wand was inside. "There's nothing left to do" he sighed.

"It's regrettable when something as precious to us wizards is destroyed" he exclaimed, turning to see Harry "wouldn't you agree young one?"

"Yes?" he answered questioningly, not knowing which was the answer Mr. Ollivander was looking for.

Those large eyes that so bothered Harry, suddenly focused on his scar "so you've finally come. I must admit that I've been awaiting your arrival Harry Potter"

"You look like your father. He took a mahogany wand, eleven inches, pliable and excellent for transfiguration. Your green eyes, however, are your mother's. She preferred a willow wand, ten and a quarter inches, swishy. A nice wand for charms"

"Of course, I said your mother preferred, when in reality it is the wand that chooses the wizard"

"Do you remember all the wands you've sold?" Harry couldn't help but inquire. If his parents had bought their wands when they were eleven years old, that meant it had been an eternity ago!

"Yes, Mr. Potter, I remember every single wand I've ever sold. What wood, core, length and flexibility; even if the wood or core came from the same tree or animal. And of course, who've I've sold them to." Harry looked at him wide-eyed, he couldn't believe anyone could memorize all of that.

"Including the wand that made that scar. Thirteen and a half inches and… a very powerful wand in the wrong hands" he sighed.

"Anyway" he said walking away, while taking out a silver tape measure that started measuring Harry. This time Harry wasn't surprised that it did it on its own. What he did notice, was that it seemed to focus far more on the different lengths of his arms and fingers, and the fact that Ollivander didn't have any floating parchment in front of him where he could see the measurements. "Left or right-handed, boy?"

"Right-handed" Harry told him.

"Each Ollivander wand has a central core made from a powerful magical substance Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hair, phoenix tail-feathers and dragon heartstrings. We also use dozens of woods from different trees, all of them magical of course. The combination of these three magical cores with the quite varied woods, and of course the different lengths and flexibility of the wands, make it so there are no two Ollivander wands alike; they're unique and unrepeatable. When we find your wand, you can be sure that you will get the best results, superior to the wand of any other wizard" Mr. Ollivander expounded, in a monologue that he seemed to have repeated thousands of times, and yet still excited him.

"That's enough" he suddenly said, and the tape measure returned to his pocket. Subsequently, he began to take boxes from the shelves. To Harry it seemed he was doing it randomly, as he just took them from all over, with no order he could discern.

"Well try this one, beech and dragon heartstring. Nine inches, nice and flexible. Give it a wave!"

Harry had barely waved it before Mr. Ollivander took it from him and gave him another "Maple and phoenix tail feather, six and three-quarter inches and very elastic!"

This time Harry couldn't even wave it before Mr. Ollivander had taken it from his hand. Harry honestly had no idea what to do, he didn't know magic and Mr. Ollivander almost always took the wand before he could even try to brandish them.

Sometimes, however, some wands reacted negatively, jumping from his hands as if Harry were the hot potato. One in specific, made of dragon heartstring and hawthorn wood, didn't jump from his hand, but rather when he waved it, he made a vase in a corner of the shop explode.

"Uhm, did it choose me?" he asked.

"No, definitely not" and he took it from him delicately, before putting it in its box.

Harry wasn't so bothered this time, as he felt it was the first time he had done magic. Of course, he was embarrassed to have broken something of Mr. Ollivander, even if he had repaired it in an instant.

An ever-growing pile of boxes with their already tried wands were accumulating on a chair. Ironically, the more wands Harry tried, the happier Mr. Ollivander seemed to be.

"What a difficult client" he said with a smile.

"Is this normal?" Harry asked worried.

"Ohh, you have nothing to worry about young Potter; in fact, I'm having a grand time. You see, with the years I've learnt to choose which wand probably goes with which wizard, I'm not just taking wands out of the shelves randomly! I always feel proud when I can find the right wand from the first three choices, but to most, I find their wand at the fourth or fifth option. Every wand that I don't match with a wizard or witch, tells me about him or her, and what the wand is looking (or not looking) for. That way, I can go ruling out wands that will not work.

"But those clients that take more than a dozen tries are a rarity, and an opportunity to learn more about wandlore or wandcraft. So you see, for this reason, a client that has already taken, let's see… 17 tries, is certainly worth remembering!" he exclaimed excitedly as he went from shelf to shelf.

"Hmm, why not? An odd wand for an odd wizard" he muttered, taking a wand from the top of a shelf.

He brought it to Harry and opened it "an unusual combination: holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple"

Even before grabbing it, Harry thought it was the prettiest of all the wands; the colour and design were unique.

When he touched and grabbed the wand, he felt a pleasant tingling run through his body, from his finger to the top of his head. A light wind seemed to have surrounded him, and as if he knew what he had to do, he raised his wand from left to right; a shower of gold and silver sparks shot out of his wand as if they were fireworks.

Hagrid whooped and clapped "Bravo Harry!"

"Oh bravo! Yes, indeed, very good" exclaimed Mr. Ollivander before muttering as he returned the wand to its box "curious, really curious. Who would've guessed?"

"I'm sorry, but, what's so curious?" Harry asked intrigued.

Ollivander finished wrapping the box and gave it to Harry, staring intently at him "As I said previously, I remember every single wand I've ever sold. And it so happens that the feather from the tail of the phoenix from whence the feather of your wand came was double; another feather came from the same point in the tail. In other words, a twin feather. I forged two wands decades ago, from those two feathers; and I sold its twin a little more than half a century ago. It is very curious and intriguing that it was that wand that made that scar." Hagrid huffed heavily when he heard it.

"I believe we can expect great things from you Mr. Potter. After all, he who must not be named did great things, terrible of course, but grand" he finished with those so very pale eyes.

Harry didn't find Mr. Ollivander a very pleasant man, especially with what he had just said. Nonetheless, he would not return his wand. It was already as much his own as his own arm, and he was glad to have it. He paid seventy-two galleons. Harry walked out of the store deciding to never again think about the twin wand.

Sunset quickly approaching, Hagrid and Harry began the trip back to Privet Drive #4; despite Harry's insistence that he could not return. "Dumbledore's orders" answered Hagrid every time. When they entered the tube, he almost dared to ask the question that was bothering him, before backing down and changing the question.

"How am I going to Hogwarts, Hagrid?

"Ahh yes, here's your ticket for Hogwarts" Hagrid answered, giving him an envelope "the first of September at King's Cross. Everything's in the ticket. If you have any problems with the Dursley's, just send me a letter with your owl."

"I don't think they'll dare to defy you, but I very much doubt that they will take me to London; much less so I can go to Hogwarts. You saw how much Uncle Vernon doesn't want me to go. Can't you take me?" asked a hopeful Harry.

Hagrid looked at Harry for a long time before sighing "I'll talk to Dumbledore about it" and Harry smiled.

When they reached Paddington station, Hagrid invited him for some burgers. They ate in mostly companiable silence.

Finally, Harry dared to ask the question that was going around his mind, though he found the words difficult to articulate.

"I can't remember that night, the night my parents died and I became famous. All those people believe I'm special; Ollivander expects great things from me and I feel everyone else does as well, but I don't even know how to do magic…"

Hagrid placed his absurdly large hands on the table and gave him a very kind smile that was mostly hidden behind his large beard "You don't have to worry Harry. Everyone's a beginner when they arrive at Hogwarts. You'll see that you will learn quickly and will be all right. Just be yourself. I know being famous like you may not be easy, but you will have a grand time at Hogwarts. I did, and honestly, I still do"

Finally, he boarded the train that would take him home and said farewell to Hagrid morosely. Never before had anyone treated him so nicely, almost as if he were family.