Shortly after leaving Gringotts, Harry Potter, Hagrid, and the Young Six were back in Diagon Alley rummaging through the streets. Having bought most of their equipment, and while Harry read the student list, Yona pulled their school stuff by cart.
“Who would’ve thought everything a wizard or with could need actually exist in one tiny street?” Ocellus asked.
“It’s crazy, but that’s not the part that weirds me out,” Gallus replied.
“What do you mean?” Sandbar asked.
“I mean what’s weird is that everywhere we go, just after Harry, somehow we got a pre-order on our behalf. Cauldrons, books, all that potion stuff. Heck, last place we went to, ‘Madam Malkin’s’, not only did they have robes for us on back-order… but a custom-made robe just for Yona? How’d they even get her size if never been in this place before?”
“… Magic, maybe?” Yona guessed.
“Hmm… no, I don’t think that’s it,” Gallus shook his head.
“Gallus has a point,” Smolder replied. “First the Princesses’ vault, and now all this? It’s like someone went through ALL this trouble just to make sure we were ready for Hogwarts, along with Harry.”
“Well, Headmare Twilight and her friends said they’d look around this place,” Sandbar pointed out. “Maybe they went ahead and told everyone here that—”
“Nah, they’d wouldn’t have this kind of influence,” Gallus disagreed. “It had to be someone close at Hogwarts, someone famous enough to have this kind of preparation beforehand… claw… hoof… something.”
“Whoever they are, maybe they just wanted to help us for nothing in return?” Silverstream suggested. “Maybe some mysterious do-gooder or… or something.”
As Silverstream offered her thoughts, she pulled out a small bag from the cart: A little personal snack she never had before called ‘Fiendfyre Flakes’. Eagerly opening the bag, she immediately grabbed a scoopful of flakes and munched away. The noise drew Smolder’s attention, turning her head to the bag and reading what it said on the label.
“Uh, Silver…?” Smolder spoke up. “Maybe you shouldn’t eat something you bought in the ‘Wizarding World’?”
Smolder’s warning to her friend, emphasized with quotation marks, fell on deaf ears as Silverstream already popped another flake into her beak.
“What’s that you said?” Silverstream asked, between bites. “I was tasting these funny-sounding treats I bought and… and they have no flavor… at all. Nothing, zip, nada. I mean yeah there’s a bit of a kick at the end, but nothing else to really—”
Silverstream’s beak clamped shut as her cheeks swelled before turning her head upward and released a huge burst of fire, forming a serpentine dragon that flew from her beak and breathed fire of its own. Eventually, it dissipated into smoke in midair, from head to tail. Silverstream stood, left in a robotic state with a heavily charred beak and an expression that read ‘So spicy I’ve lost all my senses’ on her face.
“Whoa…” Smolder gasped.
“Guys please, we still have some school items left to purchase…” Ocellus brought up. “At least before we’re supposed to meet with Headmare Twilight and the other teachers, right Harry?”
“Oh yes,” Harry nodded, checking the list. “We still need… wands.”
Silverstream, upon hearing mention of the word ‘wand’, suddenly felt her ill-fated spice-induced trance break.
“Wands?!” Silverstream screeched. “You mean WE… get wands?! I always WANTED a magic wand, ever since… err, ten seconds ago!”
“Uh… I doubt we’re getting wands,” Gallus spoke, uncertain. “Wands are more for witches and wizards or… oh I don’t know, folks who can actually DO magic?”
“Well, either way if it’s wands you be wanting, you’ll want Ollivanders,” Hagrid spoke.
Hagrid points toward the store, a narrow and shabby building with peeling gold letters over the shop’s door which read, Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
“No place better,” Hagrid continued. “Why don’t you run along in there and wait? I just got one more thing I got to do. Won’t be long.”
“Okay Hagrid,” Sandbar nodded. “Oh, and could tell Headmare Twilight and the others where we went if you run into them? Don’t want her freak out if we’re not back.”
“Not to worry lad, I will.”
<>
Harry Potter and the Young Six soon heard into the store, quietly as they took a look around. They noticed shelf upon shelf filled with wands in various boxes. But for some strange reason, no sign of any people anywhere.
“Hello?” Harry called out, softly. “Hello?”
“Maybe the owner’s out to lunch,” Gallus inquired. “We should probably wait for them to—”
“Whoa guys!!!”
Harry and the Young Six turned and spotted Silverstream in the most dangerous situation so far: The hippogriff excitedly showing them a long wand comprising of ash.
“I found a wand!” Silverstream cried in excitement. “Okay, who wants to see some magic?!”
“Uh… maybe you should put that down very slowly and carefully,” Ocellus advised.
“Yeah!” Smolder nodded rapidly. “You might blow something up!”
“Pfft! That’s silly!” Silverstream waved off. “I’m not gonna blow something up. I just wanna do one teeny-weeny trick. Let’ see… KLAATU BARADA--!”
Before she could finish, a noise from the back interrupted her. She and the others turned toward the back of the shop as an old man appeared along a ladder. The man, Garrick Ollivander himself, looked toward Harry, the Young Six… and Silverstream. He smiled briefly before taking notice of the wand in her grip.
“I was just looking for that, my dear,” He spoke, climbing down the ladder. “Was going to put that one away for precautionary purposes, but time slipped by for me.”
Ollivander approached the young hippogriff before gently reaching his hand out.
“Best give that here. An untrained witch with an ash wand is a rather dangerous combination, in my time as a wandmaker.”
Silverstream reluctantly obliged, placing the wand in his hand. Ollivander placed the wand into an empty case before turning toward Harry.
“All the same… I wondered when I’d be seeing you, Mr. Potter.”
The man takes the wand case and proceeds to return to one of the shelves before carefully seeking another.
“It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands. Ahh…”
He selected a case and pulled out a wand. A beechwood one to be exact.
“Here we are. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible.”
“Dragon… heartstring?” Smolder repeated, with an eyebrow raised.
“Best not think too hard on it dear,” Ollivander replied.
Ollivander returned to Harry, offering the wand. Harry holds onto it for a second or two… but does nothing.
“Well, give it a wave,” Ollivander gestured.
Hesitantly, Harry waved the wand. This caused most of the boxes to fly out and crash down. Harry jumped and hurriedly placed the wand back on the counter.
“Apparently not,” Ollivander spoke, returning the wand to its case.
“Uh… Mr. Ollivander?” Smolder spoke up. “I thought we’d just get Harry’s wand and get out.”
“And you will… as soon as I find the wand that chooses Mr. Potter.”
“’Chooses’?” Ocellus spoke, in confusion. “How’s that possible? A wand can’t choose its owner. It’s impossible… isn’t it?”
Ollivander turned around, addressing the changeling with a warm smile.
“’The wand chooses the wizard’, my dear. That is a cardinal rule that all who have studied wandlore ever understood and put stock in.”
He placed the wand case back onto the shelf.
“In my understanding,” Ollivander continued. “No two wands are ever the same because no two wizards or witches are ever the same. Their wood, their length, their flexibility… even the creatures from which their cores come from. No two wands are ever identical in every aspect. And thus… the wand will always instinctively choose its proper own with great prejudice, so a wand pairing is not to be taken lightly.”
“Yeah… great freebie on the lesson,” Gallus replied, sarcastically. “But how long will this take, exactly? I mean, how many wand can one kid wizard go through?”
“Oh, it is… uncertain,” Ollivander replied, browsing the shelves. “Very few get it right on the first go… though I once recall assisting a young wizard go through… twenty-eight wands before finding the right one.”
“Twenty-eight tries?!” Gallus gasped, exasperated. “We’ll never get out of this place!”
Ollivander grabbed another wand from a box.
“Perhaps this: ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches… quite springy.”
Harry took the wand, waving it at a vase, which shattered so great it startled Harry.
“No, no, definitely not!” Ollivander shook his head. “No matter…”
Ollivander grabs a wand from a box but stops as his face became thoughtful.
“… I wonder…”
Ollivander presents the wand to Harry.
“Holly… and phoenix tailfeather, a rather volatile yet powerful pairing. Eleven inches, and… nice and supple. Let’s see… if this will work for you, Mr. Potter.”
No sooner after Harry touched it, suddenly he glowed beneath it. His hair blew up in all directions and several paperwork in the background took off in midair. Ollivander looked slightly surprised, as he face sunk deep in thought.
“Curious… very curious…”
“Sorry, but what’s curious?” Harry asked.
“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr. Potter,” Ollivander explained, examining the wand. “It so happens that the phoenix, whose tail feather resides in your wand, gave another feather… just one other. It is curious that you should be destined for this wand when its brother gave you that scar.”
Ollivander pointed toward the lightning bolt scar along Harry’s forehead.
“And… who owned that wand?” Harry asked curiously.
“Oh, we do not speak his name,” Ollivander shook his head. “As I have said, the wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter. It’s not always clear why, but I think it is clear that we can expect great things from you. After all, ‘He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named’ did great things… terrible, yes… but great.”
Ollivander handed Harry back his wand before looking toward the Young Six. As if remembering something, he headed toward the back of the store.
“Well… I guess if that’s all,” Smolder spoke. “We’ll be… going, I guess?”
Before the children could turn around, Ollivander called out to them.
“Just a moment, please. I just recalled receiving a letter from Hogwarts, asking to show you six something.”
“I knew it!” Gallus sighed. “Someone is clearly rigging things for us! Let’s just go and--!”
All of a sudden, his beak is clamped shut by one of Silverstream’s talons. Her eyes narrow to pinpoints toward Gallus’ gaze.
“You! Shush! Don’t you ruin this for me…”
Gallus nodded silently, wide-eyed even, as Silverstream’s head turned toward Ollivander with eagerness. The man himself reached past a few cases before pulling out a larger case, seeming containing more than one. Once again, the thoughtfulness returned.
“Could they be…?” He asked himself.
Ollivander brought the large case over to the counter, significantly worn by time as if it had never seen the light of day till now.
“I do not know why I was bidden to show you these… but considering the circumstances with an Equestrian party in my shop…”
Harry and the Young Six widen their eyes upon Ollivander’s recognition.
“Wait, you knew where we came from?” Sandbar asked. “But… but how?”
“I remember every wand I ever sold…” Ollivander emphasized. “And two of them went to two very promising young rulers and magic users during their time here. Both of them received black walnut wands with phoenix tailfeather cores, which they provided themselves. The elder’s wand was thirteen inches and quite reasonably supple. The younger’s was a mere nine inches and… well, brittle.”
As Ollivander explained, he placed the wand case onto the counter.
“But these wands? These are among some of the finest work that the Ollivander family have made in over 2,300 years…”
The case opened, revealing a set of six oddly shaped wands. Ollivander explained each one from left to right.
“English oak, unicorn hair, eleven inches, quite solid; dogwood, phoenix tailfeather, ten inches, slightly springy; black walnut, unicorn hair, eight inches, surprisingly swishy; red oak, dragon heartstring, nine-and-a-half inches, swishy; pine, phoenix tailfeather, nine inches, unyielding; willow, unicorn hair, seven-and-a-half inches, pliant.”
The Young Six stare in amazement by the sheer craftsmanship of the six wands… save for Gallus.
“Okay, and… what?” Gallus asked, an eyebrow raised. “Are we supposed to… what, just take them ourselves?”
“If the wands deem you worthy owners,” Ollivander clarified. “Then essentially, yes.”
“And how do we find that out?”
“You don’t. The wands will tell you. It’s just a matter of… feeling them out.”
While the Young Six seemed confused by all this, Gallus remained most skeptical about it till a strange sound was heard… a sound coming from one of the wands. Slowly, he felt compelled to approach the wands, as if in a trance. The others noticed his claw slowly reach out to wave over them.
And then suddenly, a strange sensation grew upon his paw hanging over the pine wand. Gallus compulsively grasped it, as the same glow surrounds Gallus thought more of a light purple aura radiating throughout his body… before being absorbed into the wand. Gallus silently gasped, as if awakening from a dormant slumber. A reaction like this greatly surprised the group… but none more so than Ollivander who slowly gave a smile.
“It appears… your wand has chosen you,” Ollivander declared.
Curious, one by one the remaining Young Six approached the wand case, feeling out the wands. As soon as each of them felt that same sensation over a certain wand, the moment they pick it up, their bodies too glow with specific auras that are absorbed into the wands, reawakening them. From Gallus’ view, he saw that each of their auras resembled the very colors surrounding them when they first stopped Cozy Glow from destroying all the magic in Equestria.
“Wow…” Silverstream gasped.
“That was… something…” Sandbar spoke, shaking his head.
“I almost felt like…” Smolder pondered.
“Yona and wand…” Yona added.
“Were meant to be together…” Ocellus concluded.
“A perfect pairing, indeed,” Ollivander declared, approaching the Six. “Never thought I would live to see the day… that those wands would find their next owners…”
The Young Six are surprised by this, especially Gallus.
“’Next’? You mean… these wands belonged to other witches and wizards?”
“Why, yes…” Ollivander nodded. “These were made by my grandfather, Gerbold Ollivander. Made for six powerful witches and wizards. Very different, not just in skill and strengths… but also from different schools of wizardry~”
“Different schools?” Smolder raised a brow. “You mean, there’s more than just Hogwarts in this world?”
“Oh yes… there are many schools where young wizards and witches would train around the world. And as an Ollivander, I can remember specifically which wand served which graduate.”
He points to the willow wand held by Sandbar’s hoof.
“That was made for a Hogwarts witch…”
Then to the dogwood in Silverstream’s claws.
“The dogwood was crafted for a young witch in Madame Beauxbaton’s Academy, in France.”
“Ooh la la…” Silverstream smiled.
He points to the red oak in Smolder’s claws…
“The red oak, for a fierce and mighty Durmstrang wizard, of the Scandinavian Northlands.”
Smolder held the wand with pride, as Ollivander acknowledged the English oak in Yona’s hoof…
“The English oak made for a sturdy and stubborn Koldovstoretz wizard, deep within Russia.”
“Yaks like sturdy…” Yona smiled, then realized. “Stubborn…?!”
Ollivander acknowledged the black walnut in Ocellus’ hoof…
“The black walnut for a studious and curious witch of Mahoutokoro on the island of Minami Iwo Jima, in Japan’s seas.”
“I don’t know what Japan is, but I agree on the curiosity,” Ocellus replied.
Finally, Ollivander turned toward the pine wand in Gallus’s wand.
“And this?” Ollivander pointed out. “This wand… the pine wood… it was crafted for an ingenious, independent… and very protective wizard from America’s Ilvermorny School of Wizardry and Witchcraft. Different wands, these may be… and their owners even more so… but when used together… they did great and wondrous things… until… they gave their lives together. My family has kept these wands for sentimental purposes, but it would seem… these would be better suited to younger hands than mine.”
“But… but wait!” Gallus called out. “None of us can even do magic! How can a wand pick someone who can’t even do magic?”
“It can’t,” Ollivander replied. “You say none of you bear any noteworthy magic. Well… perhaps these wands think otherwise. The wand always chooses the wizard, young griffon. Always…”
Before Gallus can even retort, a knock is heard outside the shop. Harry and the Young Six turned to see who it is while Ollivander returned to his work.
“Harry! Harry! Happy birthday, Harry!”
It is Hagrid… and the Mane Six…
*Ahem!*
… And Spike… the Giant of a man appearing to be holding a cage. And just inside the cage, a female snowy owl sat perched along the bar. The Young Six turned toward Harry Potter, who looked on in surprise.
“Harry has pet of his own now?” Yona asked her friends.
“… Apparently,” Gallus answered, bluntly.