Harry potter The Boy Who Remembers

In the end, Harry left the store happy with his purchase and put the uniforms in his trunk. With that done, he only had to get his wand and maybe even a pet. Magical animals were very smart in the stories, perhaps one of them would be a suitable companion.

But that was for later, Harry decided to first get his wand, which meant that had to go to Ollivanders.

To be honest, Harry was looking forwards to getting his wand. The promise of casting actual spells, not just the weak wandless magic that he's been using. The moment he gets his wand, his identity as a wizard would be confirmed, for him and for everyone.

Unfortunately, Harry hadn't seen any wand shops walking around the alley so far, so, he asked one of the store clerks, "Hello, I'm looking for the wand shop. Do you know where it is, please?"

Harry had to say that giving them puppy eyes was more than enough to get the woman he asked to soften her eyes and immediately tell him the directions to Ollivanders.

Walking around, the young wizard noticed that there were no wand shops except for Ollivanders. Harry hadn't even mentioned going to Ollivanders, only that he was going to buy a wand, but the woman had immediately assumed that she was going to this store. This meant that either Ollivanders ran them out of business, or the store's quality of wands was so much higher that they never even tried.

Because it didn't make sense in any other case. Wands were everyday objects used by every single wizard or witch in the nation, and yet there wasn't any competition for Ollivanders. The store had a complete monopoly on one of the most vital resources in the country.

The shop itself didn't look particularly luxurious, especially considering its status as the only wand shop in the continent. It was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

Honestly, Harry didn't really care about the state of the shop. It seemed to be something characteristic of the wizarding world. The Leaky Cauldron was the first impression Muggleborns had on the wizarding world, and yet it looked like a dingy dirty pub. This was weird because cleaning enchantments and repairing charms seemed to be taught to all students at Hogwarts.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as he stepped inside. It was a very tiny place, empty except for a single spindly chair which he certainly didn't want to sit on to wait. Harry had thousands of questions in his head but chose to stare at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling.

It was odd and hard to describe, but Harry was able to feel them. It was like every box – which probably contained a wand – had a heartbeat. And yet each one was slightly different than the other, like having a different melody. There were a few distinct ones, one that was very loud and fast, resembling more like a drum than a heartbeat. Another had a soothing and somewhat whimsical melody that made Harry relax without even noticing.

Harry stood there, staring at the symphony of wands. He always felt a little pull whenever he was close to any magical item. But it was mostly characterized by goosebumps, not whatever this was.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped. He had been so lost in what he was feeling to notice the man sneak behind him. He turned reflexively and saw an old man standing before him. His wide, pale eyes shone like silvery moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly.

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, and made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr Ollivander moved closer to Harry and continued, "Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and is excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it, it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Dear God that man was creepy. Harry found it hard to believe that this man interacted with all eleven years old wizards in the country when getting a wand. He should know not to act like a creep.

Still, this man was the only person who recognized Harry and even spoke about his parents, and he was curious as to what happened to them, "Did you know my parents?"

"Briefly. Every single wizard and witch going to Hogwarts comes to this shop eventually. Even those who foolishly use legacy wands eventually learn to come here to get one of their own."

"Do you know what happened to them?" Harry asked.

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