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• Chapter 01 - The Heart of the Problem Chapter 02 - The Life and Times of Harry Potter Chapter 03 - Hairy Harry and the Beetles Chapter 04 - Charmed Memories Chapter 05 - More Guilt for Harry Chapter 06 - A Variety of Cures Chapter 07 - Matters of the Heart Chapter 08 - Pleasure and Peril Chapter 09 - Difficult Decisions Chapter 10 - Friendships Old and New Chapter 11 - Resolutions Chapter 12 - All Kinds of Learning Chapter 13 - Transfigurations Chapter 14 - Transfiguration Complications Chapter 15 - Racing the Moon Chapter 16 - A Variety of Lessons Chapter 17 - The Wedding Chapter 18 - Decisions Chapter 19 - Questions Chapter 20 - Changes in the Wind Chapter 21 - The Wizard's Apprentice Chapter 22 - Memories Chapter 23 - Merlin's Solution Chapter 24 - The D.A. Tournament Chapter 25 - Everlasting Sleep Chapter 26 - Consequences Chapter 27 - Quidditch, Anyone? Chapter 28 - Patterns Chapter 29 - Death and Destruction Chapter 30 - The Time of Destiny Chapter 31 - Harry Lends a Hand Chapter 32 - The Torch is Passed Chapter 33 - The Last Hurrah Chapter 34 - New Beginnings Epilogue - Part 1: The Post-Hogwarts Years Epilogue - Part 2: Back At Hogwarts Again
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A short time later, Molly, Remus, Marcus and Petunia were gathered around the kitchen table.

"Did you enjoy being a cow pat again?" Molly asked contemptuously.

Petunia trembled as she gazed from wizard to wizard.   "What. . .what. . .?" she muttered distractedly, scrubbing her hands together as if she were washing them over and over.

Molly slammed her fist on the table.   "PAY ATTENTION, you ruddy great COW, or I’ll hex you AGAIN!"   Her fiery red hair nearly crackled with her temper.

Remus put his hand on Molly’s arm.   "Molly, if you frighten her too much, she simply can’t pay proper attention."   Molly subsided, but kept a sharp eye on Petunia, who quailed under her gaze.

"Mrs. Dursley," Remus said politely, "this is Marcus Pomfrey.   He’s a healer at St. Mungo’s, the wizard hospital in London.   He’s taken care of Harry several times recently.   He’s here today because Harry’s in pain again."

"What’s. . .what’s wrong with him?" she said, turning to Marcus nervously.

"His skull was severely fractured on the train ride home from Hogwarts," Marcus began, looking at Petunia curiously when she shuddered at the word "Hogwarts."   "Are you all right, Mrs. Dursley?" he asked in concern.

"Yes, I’m quite all right," she said, pulling the shreds of her dignity together.   "We were told he was hurt then.   That’s why he," she said, gesturing haughtily at Remus, "decided to stay with us."

"And it was a wise decision on Professor Lupin’s part to stay with Harry," Marcus assured her.  

She sniffed dismissively, then glanced quickly at Molly, fear in her eyes.   When she saw no threat coming from the redhead, she turned back to the healer.   "So what’s wrong with the boy now?"

"He was extremely angry for quite a long time today, and the increase in his blood pressure gave him pain to the point of becoming ill," Marcus explained.   "You were the cause of his anger, and unfortunately, his friends weren’t here to help him get past his anger quickly.   We need to do something to avoid such things happening in the future."

Petunia’s eyes widened.   "What are you talking about?" she said apprehensively.

"I’m going to put a Memory Charm on you so you won’t remember your infatuation with James Potter.   I’m going to put another spell on you so that you will accept Harry for who and what he is.   You will treat him and his friends with respect and kindness. You won’t go into his room uninvited," Marcus said, studying the woman before him.   He looked at Remus.   "Anything else?"

"I think that covers the important points," Remus replied.   "I’m glad you included his friends."  

"I thought it would be safest to cover everything at once," Marcus replied, looking at Petunia and fingering his wand.

"Just a moment," Remus said as a sudden thought occurred to him.   "It might be good to add a Cheering Charm."

"Right," Marcus said.  "Good idea."   He raised his wand and pointed it at Petunia.

"You can’t just. . .you can’t. . .I won’t let you!" Petunia cried, standing up so quickly her chair fell over.  

"It’s a medical necessity for my patient’s health, or I wouldn’t do it," Marcus assured her.   "It won’t hurt you, and it won’t affect any part of your life or memory other than changing your attitude toward James and Harry Potter and other wizards."  

As she sputtered incoherent noises of protest, he waved his wand and muttered the necessary incantations, effectively silencing her.   "There.   How do you feel, Mrs. Dursley?"

"I’m very well, thank you," she replied graciously, although her expression was a bit dazed.   She’d always been a good hostess, and her company manners came to the fore now.   "How are you today, Mr. Pomfrey?   Mrs. Weasley?   Professor Lupin?   How nice to see all of you today.   Would you like some tea?"

"Not right now, but thank you very much," Remus replied.   He looked at Marcus.   "Excellent!   Let’s go see how Harry is."

"Do you think he’s hungry?   I could make him some lunch," Petunia offered kindly.   "Would you like some as well?"

"I imagine he will be hungry soon, yes, thank you," Marcus replied with a smile.   "I won’t be here long enough to have lunch, but Remus and Molly might enjoy a bite of something.   Thank you."  

"Well done!" Molly said as she, Marcus and Remus went back upstairs to check on Harry.  

When they entered the room, he woke up and turned to gaze at them anxiously.   "Is it done?" he asked.

"Yes, and it went quite well," Marcus replied.   "Your aunt is fixing you some lunch now."

"And she offered us tea, asked how we were. . .couldn’t have been nicer," Remus added with a smile.

"Wow!   Why didn’t anyone Memory Charm the lot of them years ago?" Harry said with a hopeful look on his face.

"Maybe they thought it wasn’t necessary," Marcus replied with a shrug. "A Memory Charm is an extreme measure, and we try to avoid doing them unless there’s no choice.   In this situation, with you still healing from a serious injury, I thought there was no better choice than to do the Charm on your aunt.   In the meantime, young man, you appear to be improving and I have other things to do, so I’ll go back to work now, unless you need something else."

"No, that’s fine.   Thanks so much for coming!" Harry said, pulling himself to a sitting position in his bed.   "You’re brilliant, you know that?"

"I do have my moments," Marcus said with a laugh.   "Take care of yourself, Harry.   And you still owe me a Quidditch game!"

"Right!   We can play at the Weasleys some Saturday.   I’ll be in touch!" the boy replied with a grin.

"Yes, Marcus, do come out to The Burrow some Saturday.   Just let us know when you’re free and we’ll arrange a family picnic.   It will be lovely," Molly said with a warm smile.

"Thanks!   I look forward to it!   I’ll see myself out.   Bye!"   Marcus started downstairs, leaving Harry’s door open when he saw Petunia coming up the stairs with a food-laden tray in her hands.  

"Oh, good, you’re awake," she said brightly to Harry.   "May I come in?"

"Yes," he replied carefully.  

"I brought you and your friends some sandwiches, apples and crisps, as well as drinks.   Did that nice Mr. Pomfrey have to leave?   Will this be enough food, or do you want something else?" his aunt said with a smile.

"He had to go back to work.   This is fine, Aunt Petunia.   Thanks," Harry said, studying his aunt’s face carefully.   "How are you?"

"Me?   Oh, I’m absolutely spiffing today," she said cheerfully as she set the tray on his bedside table.   "I mean, it’s a beautiful day.   Good to be alive."   Her face saddened a bit then.   "Oh dear, I suppose I shouldn’t be so flippant with poor Vernon still in hospital."   She started wringing her hands anxiously.

"He’s getting better, isn’t he?" Harry asked.

"Yes, he is.   The surgeons are pleased.   They are upset that he keeps getting angry, but other than that, he’s doing rather well."   She forced herself to stop twisting her hands together, satisfying her urge by turning her wedding ring around her finger over and over.   A glance at Harry’s face calmed her somehow.   She smiled broadly at him.   "Well, then.   I’ll leave you to your lunch."

After Remus closed the door behind her, Harry looked at his godfather, his eyes dancing in delight.   "I would never have believed it."

"Amazing what a little spell can do sometimes, isn’t it?" Remus agreed.

"Brilliant!" Harry agreed, grinning at his godfather and Molly.   "Thanks!"

"You’re in good hands now, and apparently on the road to recovery, so I’ll pop off home now," Molly said.   "You take care of yourself, dear," she added, leaning over to kiss Harry on the temple.

Harry put his hand on her arm.   "Wait."

"What is it, dear?" she asked in concern.

Harry stood up carefully and bent his long frame to envelop the short woman in a warm embrace.   "Thank you so much.   You mean a lot to me.   I just can’t tell you . . . ."   He gave her a shy kiss on the cheek, then straightened and looked her in the eye seriously. "Thanks.   And tell Ginny I said thanks for looking after me, too."

"I will, dear," Molly assured him, smoothing his hair back from his face fondly.   "Sit down and eat with the boy, Remus," she said as the man started to walk her to the door.   Remus obeyed, waving to her as she closed the door behind her.   Molly went down the stairs and out the front door, leaving Harry and Remus to eat their lunch alone.

* * * * *  

"Rats!   I’ve got to send a note to Mr. Ollivander!" Harry exclaimed after waking from another nap late in the afternoon.

"Why?   What’s wrong?" Remus asked, looking up from his paperwork.

"He stopped me this morning and wanted to talk to me about my wand.   I told him I’d meet him at lunchtime or after work, and now I can’t do that."   He got up and rummaged around in his desk, finding some parchment, a bottle of ink and a quill.   "Merlin, d’you mind going back to Diagon Alley?   I need you to take a note to Mr. Ollivander for me."

The bird chirped cheerfully and hopped down to sit next to Harry, craning its neck so it appeared to be reading what he was writing.  

"Is this all right with you?" Harry asked, a grin on his face as he studied the bird’s expression.

Merlin chirped a few times and looked steadily at the boy.  

"Right then, let me seal it and you’re off!" Harry said.   He handed the sealed letter to the phoenix, which took flight and hovered momentarily before disappearing in a flash of light.

"What did he think of your letter?" Remus asked, amused.

"He thought it would do.   He said my handwriting is like that of a five-year-old."

"Why would he say that?" Remus interrupted with a laugh.

"Because that’s what he thinks.   He’s said it before," Harry said with a philosophical shrug of his shoulders.   "After that, he asked if I needed to send a note to Professor McGonagall as well." His face split in a grin he couldn’t suppress.

Remus turned to face him fully, a puzzled expression on his face.   "Why would he say that?"

Harry sputtered with unexpected laughter.  

"What is it?   You’re actually blushing, you know," his godfather said, highly amused.

The boy got his amusement under control, then answered, "He thinks McGonagall’s hot."   He snorted with laughter again.

"You’re kidding, right?"

"No, it’s true!" the boy insisted.   "He spent quite a while talking with her when I was recuperating after the battle."

Remus laughed out loud.   "Did she know who he was?"

"Oh, I gave them quite a proper introduction.   She didn’t believe me at first when I told her he was Great Merlin, King Arthur’s mage.   When I finally had her convinced, she said she’d always been a great admirer of his, so he told me a spell to use so he could speak to her if he was looking right at her.   They talked for hours.   She giggled like a girl.   It was rather sweet, actually.   Merlin quite enjoyed it.   He’s looking forward to visiting her again sometime."   Harry lay back on his bed, his arms reaching over his head, and stretched until he could hear joints pop in various places.   "I’m glad I can go back to work tomorrow.   I’m sick of being stuck in bed all the time."

"I can believe that!   So what are the twins having you do?" Remus asked.

Harry told his godfather about the shop, and about his idea of an assembly line of some sort to speed up productions.   "So tomorrow," he concluded, "I’m taking the twins, Ron and Mr. Weasley on the weekly tour they have at Uncle Vernon’s company."

"That sounds great.   Good idea."

"D’you want to come along?   We’ll be leaving from here," Harry offered.

"It sounds like fun, but I am a bit behind on some things.   You lot go ahead and enjoy yourselves.   You can tell me all about it tomorrow evening."   Remus turned back to his work, then remembered something.   "Why were you meeting with Mr. Ollivander?   If I’m being too nosy, tell me to push off."

"He stopped me when he saw me this morning.   He asked me to come to his shop at lunch or after work because he wanted to talk to me about my wand."

"What about your wand?" Remus asked curiously.

"Dunno.   He says he’s been talking to Dumbledore and he has an idea of some kind.   He asked how my wand has been doing for me, and I told him it’s great.   I don’t know what he could do to it to improve it," Harry said with a shrug.   "It never acts up or anything."

"Well, I suppose you’ll know what he wants when you meet with him, then," Remus replied.

Just then they heard Petunia call, "Dudley?   Dudley, are you up there?   Your friends are here."

"Bloody hell," Harry said, getting out of bed abruptly.

"Careful, there, lad, you probably shouldn’t move too quickly yet," his godfather cautioned.   "What’s wrong?   Can I help?"

Harry glanced at his godfather, a guilty grin on his face.   "I kind of left Dudley as an iguana, didn’t I?   Or did you change him back?"

"No, I didn’t change him," Remus said, chuckling.   "I suppose I should go and see to it."

"The thing is, I spelled the door so I’m the only one who can reverse the spell," Harry said with a shrug.   "At least, that’s what I tried to do, but I could be wrong.   My head was banging so. . .well, Mrs. Weasley checked the hex and said the only thing I got wrong was that he’d turn into an iguana instead of a toad, and I said that was fine.   So it’s possible you can’t reverse the spell."

"Well, let’s see then," Remus said, rising to go to the door with Harry.

"Dudley?" Petunia’s voice floated up the stairs pleasantly.

"She’s awfully cheerful since she had her Memory Charm," Harry commented.   "Wonder why?"

"We included a Cheering Charm with the Memory Charm, just a bit of one," Remus said.

"Probably a good idea," Harry replied, then knocked politely on Dudley’s door.   "Dud?   Your mum wants you.   Are you in there?"   When he got no response, he cracked open the door to find a very frustrated iguana glaring at him from the floor.

"Now, Dudley, I put you on your bed.   Did you fall off?" Remus asked in concern.   "I hope you’re all right."

"We’ll soon find out," Harry said.   "Dudley, I’m going to reverse the spell so you’ll be yourself again.   Remember not to touch my door or any of my things again and you’ll be fine, OK?"   He got no response beyond an irritated blink from the iguana.   "Right then."   He tapped the trembling reptile three times and suddenly Dudley was sitting hunched on the floor in front of them.   "Feeling all right now?" Harry asked politely.   "Sorry about that.   I didn’t have time to warn you about my door."

"What . . . what did you . . .why. . .?" Dudley sputtered.

"Your mum invaded my room and went through my stuff.   You don’t let her in here, so you can imagine how that annoyed me," Harry said, stifling the anger that threatened to rise again.   "So I hexed the door so any Muggle who touched it would turn into an iguana.   It was supposed to be a toad, but I messed up the hex a little.   But an iguana is an interesting variation on the hex, don’t you think?" he said with a cheeky grin.   He held out his hand to his cousin, who remained on the floor.   "Your mum said your mates are here.   C’mon, I’ll help you up."

Dudley stared at the offered hand, his eyes wide in fear.

"No tricks, honest," Harry assured him, holding his hand out patiently.

"I thought you went to some job today," his cousin said suspiciously.

"I did, but I had to come back to make a phone call.   That’s when I found your mum messing around in my things.   I blew up and got a bleeding great headache as a result.   I’ll go back to work tomorrow," he explained.   "Come on, then, get up."   When Dudley still didn’t take his hand, Harry straightened up and turned to leave.   "Whatever."

"Wait!" Dudley cried as Harry and Remus left the room.  

The two wizards turned back.   "What?" Harry asked.

"What was that mess in the kitchen?   Did you hurt my mum?"

"The mess was your mum, but she’s herself again," Harry replied.

"That mess was my mum?   But why?"

"Because she was in my stuff, doing things she oughtn’t.   She won’t do it again," Harry said seriously.

Dudley blanched.   "Did you. . .hurt her?"

Harry’s temper flared.   "I just told you HOW many times?   She’s been calling for you.   She’s downstairs.   Your mates are here.   Now go and play nicely with your friends, and remember, Tonks’s curse is still on you, so you can’t talk about spending the afternoon as a reptile, or the mess your mother used to be.   She’s fine, you’re fine, you’ve had a nice afternoon of doing nothing, which is normal for you anyway, so go play with your bloody friends and leave me alone!"   He turned and stormed down the hall, slamming the door to his room behind him.   A moment later, the door opened quietly and Remus came in, to find Harry facing him, wand at the ready, fury on his face.

"It’s me," Remus said mildly.   "Only a wizard could have opened the door, remember?"

"Yeah, that’s right," the boy agreed reluctantly, then dropped onto his bed with a thud.   "Damn.   My headache’s back."     He put his wand and glasses on the bedside table and rubbed his eyes wearily.

"You did it to yourself that time," Remus said quietly.   "Dudley didn’t do anything to make you that angry.   His questions were understandable."

"I have a lifetime of reasons to be angry with Dudley," Harry growled.   "He wasn’t helping matters much."

"I hate to say it, but you’re being a bit unreasonable," Remus chided him gently.   "He and his mother have been through a lot today, not to mention the strain they’re under from your uncle’s illness and Tonks and me staying here.   That’s a lot of pressure for them to bear."

"You’re too good-natured," his godson responded vehemently.   "I’m not like you."   He glared at Remus as if everything was his godfather’s fault.

"No, you have James’s temper, that’s for sure, and a good bit of your mother’s as well," Remus commented, standing quietly, his arms crossed over his chest, studying his godson with serious eyes.   "That’s not a bad thing, actually, but you need to be judicious in your use of it."

"Huh?" Harry said, looking up at his godfather with a perplexed expression on his face.   He put his glasses back on so he could see Remus clearly.   "What are you on about?"

"Your temper creates tremendous power, Harry," his godfather replied.   "If you harness that energy, you’ll be an even more powerful wizard than you are now.   That’s an amazing concept, but it’s true."   He waited while the boy digested this bit of information.   "But this is neither the time nor place for you to display the quite awesome power of your temper.   Control is the key."   He glanced around the room.   "Where’s that Foe Glass I gave you for Christmas?"

"Um. . . ," Harry muttered, a guilty look on his face as he rummaged around in a few drawers.   "Here it is," he said in relief as he pulled out a drawer and retrieved the pocket-sized mirror which showed enemies approaching.

"Have you ever used it?"

"I forgot I had it, honestly," the boy said, looking at it.   "Sorry."  

"No problem.   You’ve been pretty busy.   Just set it on your bedside table.   Then you’ll know who’s outside before they come anywhere near your door," Remus suggested.

"OK," the boy said, setting the Foe Glass up so he could see it from his bed.   He glanced uncomfortably up at his godfather.   "You distracted me right out of my anger."

"That’s what I was hoping to do," his godfather said with a grin as he sat back down at the desk ready to get back to work.

"Remus?" Harry said quietly.  

"Mmm?"

"I’m sorry.   I didn’t mean to blow up at you like that."

Remus turned to face the young wizard.   "That’s all right, Harry.   I know this is a hard time for you, as well.   Some anger is to be expected at times, but Dudley honestly didn’t deserve your wrath just then.   He’s the one who needs an apology from you, not me, although I do accept it with due gratitude and all that," he said with a smile.

"OK.   I’ll talk to him later," Harry agreed.

After several quiet minutes, Remus asked, "Head still hurting?"

"A bit."

"Take your potion, then."

"I’m sick of taking potion," Harry grumbled but he got up and took his dose obediently, then went back to bed and fell asleep soon thereafter.

Remus looked at the boy and sighed.   His dark lashes against his pale skin made him look even paler, the dark circles under his eyes even more prominent.   The long black curls splayed across his pillow and the neatly trimmed beard made him look much older, strange and different than the Harry that Remus knew so well.   But no matter what the façade was, he was still James and Lily’s beloved son, who was now loved by Remus as well.   Sometimes he had no idea how to help his godson through the painful morass that, all too often, was the boy’s life.   Remus wished he had a Time Turner and could save James and Lily from Voldemort in the first place, or at the very least, take Harry back to the day he’d been dropped on the Dursleys’ doorstep.   Given the chance, he’d die to protect his friends, but if he couldn’t manage that, he’d snatch baby Harry up and take him far away to let him grow up in peace and happiness.   But alas, no such thing could happen, so they’d just have to deal with Harry’s life as it came.

* * * * *  

"Come on, then!" Fred encouraged, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.   "Time’s getting on!"   He, George, Ron and Arthur were all impatiently milling around in Harry’s small room as he rushed around trying to finish dressing, combing his hair and trying to find his bloody missing shoe.   Harry finally dug out his other shoe from where it had been kicked under the bed, put it on, tied it and stood up, breathing a sigh of relief, which was difficult to do, as crowded as his room was at present.

"There," Harry said finally.   "Let’s go!"

"About time!" George teased, punching Harry in the shoulder.

"If you lot hadn’t been an hour early, I would have been ready on time!" Harry protested, laughing at the guilty faces surrounding him.  

"The early bird catches the worm," Fred intoned with as much dignity as he could muster.

"Time and tide wait for no man," George added.

"Whatever," Harry said with a grin.   The five of them thundered down the stairs and out the door.

"Aunt Petunia agreed to let me use the car," Harry chortled when they reached the drive.   "Get in!"

"She agreed?" Ron said, shocked.   "What spell did you use for that one?"

"Apparently the attitude adjustment she had yesterday really worked!" Harry replied as he started the car’s engine.   "Seat belts, everyone!   Don’t want to get a fine for not using them."   Ron didn’t have much trouble, since he was in front and there was only one choice of buckle for him, but the twins and Mr. Weasley were in an awful mess.   "No, Mr. Weasley, wait.   You’re getting tangled with George’s belt there.   Hang on."   Harry finally got on his knees in the driver’s seat so he could face backwards and show his passengers which belts fastened where.   Amid much laughter, they traveled to the drill factory with no real incident until they got to the entrance to the parking lot.

"We’ve got an employee’s sticker on the car, so I suppose we can use Uncle Vernon’s parking spot," Harry reasoned.   He turned into the employee car park, never having been there before, and was surprised to see a security guard there.   "Uh-oh."

"Is there a problem, Harry?" Arthur asked in concern.

"I’ll take care of it, don’t worry," he assured them, hoping he would be able to talk himself out of any trouble they might be facing.

"Hullo, there," the grizzled old security man said, leaning into the window on the driver’s side.   "This is Mr. Dursley’s car.   Who are you lot?"

"I’m his nephew.   My aunt said I could use the car today.   My friends wanted to go on the tour of the factory," Harry explained, putting on what he hoped was his most charming smile.

"How is Mr. Dursley?   I was sorry to hear about his heart attack," the man said, noting on his clipboard, "Dursley nephew and four visitors for tour" as he spoke.

"He’s doing better," Harry replied.

"And how’s your auntie holding up, poor old luv?" the old man said, apparently interested in gossip.

"She’s fine," Harry said quickly, wanting to get away from the man’s questions, but then he realized "she’s fine" wasn’t exactly the best impression to give the man.   "Erm. . .well, she’s doing as well as can be expected, under the circumstances," he amended.

"Ah well, that’s understandable.   Make sure she eats.   She’s such a thin woman to start with, if she doesn’t eat, a puff of wind would be able to blow her away," the man said kindly.

Harry didn’t know what to say to that, so he just smiled at the man and drove in, looking for Vernon’s parking space.   Before long, they were parked and heading into the office area.

"Hello.   I’m Harry Potter.   I arranged for five of us to be on the tour today," he said politely to the receptionist.

The young woman looked at Harry, then at the four redheaded men behind him, her eyes widening.   Redheads were somewhat rare, and here was her reception area, full of them!   And this handsome man in front of her was certainly appealing, with his brilliant green eyes, his roguish long hair, elegantly trimmed beard and charming smile.   She wondered how old he was.   The streaks of grey in his beard on either side of his chin made him look older, as did something about his eyes, but his smile was a young man’s grin.

"Yes," she said, "I have you down for the tour.   Are you from around here, Mr. Potter?   And your friends?"

"They’re from out-of-town, just down to visit me for the day.   I took this tour when I was little, on a school field trip.  I thought my friends would enjoy seeing how things are made in a factory like this.   I’m glad you’re still giving the tours," he said, doing his best to be charming and polite.

The woman’s eyes sparkled up at him.   "We’ve been giving weekly tours for the last twenty years," she said, wishing she had something more interesting to say.   "A nice feature is the shop at the end of the tour, where you can purchase Grunnings drills, drill bits and other tools we make here."   She liked his looks, the sound of his voice, his long legs and broad shoulders — and oh, my, one of the redheads was equally tall, with long hair curling past his shoulders and the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen.   She smiled at Ron, then glanced back at Harry, not sure which one to flirt with first.   And then there were those twins. . . .

Harry ignored her flirting glances, turning to grin at Arthur.   "A shop full of tools, Mr. Weasley!   You’ll love that!   I imagine they’ll have batteries, as well, since some of the drills are cordless."  

The man’s face lit up in delight, just as Harry had expected.   "Batteries!   Oh, how lovely!" Arthur exclaimed, nearly bouncing on his toes in his excitement.  

"The tour will start in a few minutes," the woman told Harry, wondering how to get his attention, or that of the tallest redheaded man with him.   A bit breathless, she added, "I’ll call Cherilynn now.   She’ll be your tour guide and should be here in a few minutes."   Damn, she thought, I let Cheri have the tour guide job because all we ever get through here are families with loads of kids.   I should have kept that job for myself!   "Could I get you some coffee?   Tea?" Me? she added silently, hoping one of the young men would notice and fancy her.

"Right.   No, thank you, we’re fine," Harry said, a bit unnerved by her steady gaze.   "We’ll just wait over there," he added, indicating a small seating area across the room.   He pulled his friends into a huddle before letting them sit down. "Remember.   Be careful what you say.   If you have a question, it would probably be best if you ask me first, so we don’t make any mistakes around so many Muggles."   When he got nods of agreement from all of them, they all sat down.

A pretty young lady with a clipboard in hand came to a stop in front of the group.   "Good morning, and welcome to Grunnings Drills.   I see we have a local person, Mr. Potter, and four out-of-towners, the Messrs. Weasley?" she said, glancing around at the five men before her.   "Mr. Potter?   HARRY Potter?" she said suddenly, looking at Harry more closely.

"Erm. . .yes?" he said hesitantly, wondering what kind of trouble he was in now.

"Harry?   It’s Cherilynn!   Cheri from junior school?   Lunch?   Eh?" she said excitedly.   "I didn’t recognize you with the beard and long hair, but it’s you, it really is!   Nobody else has brilliant green eyes like that, and you still wear those round glasses!"

"Cheri?   Cheri Drummond?" he said, standing up and gazing down at her with a huge grin on his face.

"Oh, wow!" Cheri said, impressed by his six-foot-three height, "you’re not a titch anymore!"

Harry laughed out loud.   "No, I had a wee bit of a growth spurt last summer."

"And you’re not a skinny little fellow either," she added, openly admiring his broad shoulders and muscular chest.

Harry chuckled.   "They feed me well at school."

"I’m so glad, Harry.   I’ve worried about you all these years," she said sincerely.

"Why?" he wondered.

She leaned in to speak to him more quietly.   "Because you never had any more than a piece of toast for lunch at school, and you were so skinny and small.   I didn’t think your aunt and uncle were feeding you very well," she said seriously.

"They weren’t, but at my school, they take very good care of us."

"Obviously!" she said, giving him an appraising look.

He smiled at her.   "What are you doing here?"

"Just a holiday job.   My dad works here, you know.   He got me in.   I do whatever odd little office jobs they need done.   Sometimes I’m the receptionist, other times I do the tours, sometimes I deliver the internal post, or bring in office supplies.   I’m so glad it was my turn to lead the tour, so I had this chance to see you!"   She grinned at him, truly excited to see him after all these years.   "Speaking of tours," she said, consulting her watch, "we should be off!"   She turned to the Weasleys.   "I’m sorry to keep you waiting.   I just haven’t seen him in so many years!   What a lovely surprise!"

"These are my friends, Ron, Fred and George Weasley, and their dad, Arthur," Harry said, indicating each Weasley in turn.     He glanced down at the pretty, dark-haired girl next to him.   "This is Cheri Drummond, who kept me from starving for several years.   She shared her lunch with me as many days as she could."

"When I could sneak around Dudley and his gang to get it to you, anyway," she said with a disgusted shake of her head.   "Have you met his cousin?" she asked the Weasleys.

"Erm, yes," Arthur replied carefully.

Cheri laughed.   "From the looks on your faces, I can tell he hasn’t changed much.   I used to have to sneak food to Harry, then get away quickly before Dudley and his gang noticed.   Otherwise, they’d beat up Harry and steal all of my lunch as well as my spending money.   Nasty little boys."

"Nasty big boys, as well," Harry assured her.

"Really?   No improvement?"

"Not that I can tell," he replied.

"What’s Dudley doing these days, other than trying to bully you?" she asked.

"He goes to Smeltings, like his dad did.   He’s just hanging around over the holidays.   He doesn’t get summer jobs.   And he doesn’t bully me anymore."

"Oh, I’m glad to hear that!   Do you work over the holiday?"

"Oh yeah!   Last year, I worked for a tile shop, and this year, I’m working for them," he said, indicating the twins.

"You have a business?   What do you do?" she asked as she led them to a storage room where she outfitted each of them in a hard hat and safety glasses.

"We have a joke shop in London," Fred offered.

"We design and manufacture joke items, and sell them," George explained.

"Joke items?" she asked, confused.   "What are joke items?"

"Like, um, fart machines," Harry responded quickly, saying the first Muggle joke product he could think of.

"And fake wands," Fred added, holding one out.

Harry cringed inside.   What if it didn’t work for a Muggle?   What if it did?

Cheri took the wand and said, "What does it do?"

"Magic!" George chortled.   "Give it a wave!"

When she waved it, it turned into a rubber chicken, making her laugh.   "How did that happen?" she asked.

"I told you," Fred replied.   "Magic!"

"It made you laugh.   That’s what they do, make things that make people laugh," Harry explained.   "They need to increase production, so I thought seeing how the assembly line here works might help us to work out a way to produce things more efficiently in the shop."

"It might, at that!" she agreed.   "Come on, then."

As they toured the factory, Harry had to keep pulling the Weasleys back inside the yellow-and-black striped lines that marked where it was safe to walk.   The Weasleys were astonished by the big overhead cranes that moved along tracks in the ceiling to carry heavy loads around the plant.   All too often, they walked with their eyes on the overhead cranes, their mouths gaped open, and paid no attention at all to where they were going.   The assembly line itself, with its constantly moving products and the many busy hands of employees fitting the same part over and over on tools as they flowed by, was a huge education for all of them.   Arthur managed to remember to mumble his questions to Harry.   Fred and George peppered Cheri with questions, but somehow managed to ask things that would sound logical to a Muggle.   They were both flirting outrageously with her, as well.   Ron just followed wherever he was led, enjoying himself immensely.   When they finished the tour, they wound up in a shop that offered all the tools Grunnings made, as well as parts and accessories.

"Wow!" the twins together said as they finished the tour. "That was bloody brilliant!"

"Yeah!   Cool!   Thanks for bringing us, Harry," Ron added.

Arthur was lost in absolute bliss, gazing around the little shop with truly delighted eyes.

"Dad looks like a kid in a sweet shop," Ron confided to Harry.

"Yeah.   You’d think he was having fun," Harry said with a cheeky grin.

"I think he’ll be flying like a kite for weeks after this, he’s so excited," Ron said sagely.   The twins called to Harry and Ron, wanting to show them something.   Ron joined them, but Cheri held Harry back.

"Can we get together for lunch sometime?" Cheri said, keeping her hand on his arm and leaning in toward him, looking at him with sparkling eyes.   "I’d love to catch up."

"Erm. . .I’d enjoy that, but. . . ."   He looked into her warm hazel eyes, and smiled.   "You were always pretty, but you’ve grown into a real beauty, Cheri.   I’ll bet you’re beating the boys off with cricket bats."

"You’re so sweet!   Just one thing — I’m not going to play hard to get with you, Harry.   How about that lunch?" she said, dimpling as she smiled up at him.

"Um. . .I have a girlfriend," he said apologetically.   "We’re promised."   He held up his ring to show her.

Cheri deflated, dropped her hand from his arm and sighed. "Oh.   Well, that’s understandable.   You’ve turned into quite a handsome man.   And a sweet one, as well, but then again, you were always sweet when you weren’t angry."

His ears turned quite pink at her comment.   He was glad his hair was long enough to hide them.   "I haven’t changed that much.   I still have an awful temper."

"And you’re still very sweet," she countered.   "I’m so surprised that you already have grey in your beard," she said, studying his face seriously.   "It made me think you were much older when I first saw you."

"Erm. . .I was badly ill for a while last year, and when my beard grew in after that, it had these stripes," he said with a shrug.   "My girlfriend likes the beard and long hair, so I grew them for her for the holiday.   She likes the stripes."

"How nice," Cheri replied, feeling a twinge of jealousy for this girlfriend she didn’t know.  

"Harry," George said, "come and explain this stuff to Dad, would you?"

"Sure," he agreed, giving Cheri a little wave as he was dragged away.

"Ah, now that I have you to myself, what are you doing Friday night?" Fred said, his eyes twinkling merrily.

"Excuse me?" Cheri replied, startled.   She hadn’t seen the other twin sneak up behind her.

"Friday night?   What kind of date do you fancy?" Fred persisted. "Are you busy?   Or spoken for?"

"Um. . . ."   She looked at the tall young man in front of her seriously.   He was nowhere near as handsome as Harry, but she’d always liked dark-haired boys, probably because she’d always liked Harry.   This redhead was funny and charming and rather sweet.   Why not try something different?   All of the men on her tour had been good company.  

"I’m not busy, and I’m not spoken for," she said, smiling at him.   "As for what kind of date I fancy. . .I’m not particular.     What would you like to do?"

"Dunno.   I don’t know what there is to do here — I’m not from around here, y’know," Fred said, trying to contain his excitement.   He’d fancied Cheri from the first time he’d spotted her crossing the reception area to take them on the tour.   Then she’d reacted so strongly to Harry, and flirted with him, and Fred had felt greatly disappointed.   But Harry being Harry, he was true to Ginny, as well he should be, surrounded as he was by her father and brothers.   Fred grinned.   "You tell me what you like to do, and we’ll find someplace to do it."

"How about dinner and a film, then?   Do you like films?"

"I’ve never been, actually.   My brother Ron, and our sister have been with Harry, of course, but George and I haven’t been."

"How could you grow up not seeing films?" she asked in surprise.

"We live out in the country, and Ottery St. Catchpole is the nearest town.   It doesn’t have films."

"But you work in London now.   They have loads of films there," she replied, her head tilted in curiosity.   She’d never met anyone who hadn’t been to films before — well, except for Harry, of course, but his relatives had never let him go anywhere as a child.   She was glad to hear he was enjoying life more now.

"We’ve been busy building up our business and haven’t spent much time exploring Mug. . .most of London," Fred replied, glad he’d caught his slip of the tongue.   "Where shall I pick you up?"

Cheri pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down her address and phone number.   "I don’t live that far from Harry.   If you know how to get to his place, he can give you directions from there," she assured him.   She and Fred soon had a time worked out and chatted amiably as the rest of the Weasleys finished looking through the shop.   Harry bought a small cordless drill and a spare battery for Mr. Weasley, who gaped in delighted astonishment when Harry handed it to him.

"Harry, you shouldn’t have," Arthur said when Harry handed him the bag.

"I wanted to.   Consider it a souvenir," Harry said with a smile.

"Thank you!" Arthur said excitedly.   Harry and Ron chuckled as they watched Arthur examine every inch of the drill like a small child with a fabulous new toy at Christmas.  

Harry left his friends and walked back to where Cheri was standing.   "I guess we’re done here, then," Harry said brightly.   "Thanks for the tour.   It’s great to see you again."

"It’s wonderful to see you, Harry.   I’m so glad you’ve done so well.   Where is this school of yours, anyway?"

"Um. . .it’s a small private school in Scotland.   My parents arranged for it when I was born."

"I know Scotland a bit — we have relatives up there.   Where is it?   What’s the school’s name?"

"Um. . .Hogwarts.   It’s near Hogsmeade," he replied, hoping he wasn’t telling her too much.

"Hmm," she said, her finger tapping her lips as she thought.   "Nope.   I can’t place them.   Well, I’m glad they’re taking such good care of you.   Stay in touch, all right?"

"Yeah," he agreed, not really planning to.   He didn’t need Cheri around to make Ginny jealous.   "See you."

"Bye!" she said as he and the Weasleys headed out the door.

In the parking lot, Fred and George pummeled each other gleefully.   "Whoo-hoo!   What a great day!" Fred said.

"Yeah!   Now we just have to sort out how to make that system work for us!" George agreed.

"No, I meant it was a great day because I got a date with Cheri!" Fred chortled.

"Well, yeah, that’s great too," George agreed, looking a bit miffed.   He’d been interested in her as well, but hadn’t moved as fast as his twin this time.   George wouldn’t let that happen again!

"I know of another factory tour that might be helpful," Harry offered, trying to quash the rare storm he could see brewing between the twins.

"Really?   Where?" Ron asked helpfully, seeing what Harry had noticed about his brothers.

"A place that makes chocolates in Guildford, not too far from here.   I thought it might help in the manufacturing of your sweets to see how they do it," Harry offered.   "I can call them and see if we can get on a tour today.   I just now remembered that place.   That was another factory we visited when I was in school years ago."   He also remembered Cheri trying to sit with him on the school bus on that trip, and being frightened away by Dudley and his gang, as well as by the derisive comments of their other classmates.   She’d always tried to be a friend to him, but she couldn’t take the harsh comments, teasing and bullying the other children aimed at Harry and anyone who dared to try to befriend him.   It was all she could manage to sneak food to him at lunch time.   He sighed, glad his life had taken a turn for the better since then.

A few hours later, Harry and the Weasleys were stuffed with chocolates from their factory tour, and filled with ideas for ways to improve the manufacturing side of Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.   They returned the car to Privet Drive and all but Harry Apparated to their jobs.   Harry called Merlin to him and flashed to Diagon Alley, eager to get started on his holiday job.

* * * * *

"The day’s nearly gone," Fred commented, "but what a great way to spend the day!   Two factory tours, loads of new ideas for manufacturing our goods, and a date with a beautiful girl!"

Ron and Harry shared a grin, ignoring George’s offended look.  

"I saw her first," George muttered darkly.

"Give over, mate," Fred said cheerfully.   "Maybe she’s got a sister!   Hey, Harry, does she?"

"Not that I know of," Harry replied, then went back to concentrating on the notes he’d made after each factory tour.   "Come here, guys, let’s talk about this," he suggested.   The twins and Ron all gathered around the table where Harry had spread his notes.   "I think we can use the chocolate-making process for the sweets, with a few variations, and the drill assembly line process for most of the other things," he commented, "but the jobs for each task need to be combined and put in specific order, so things run smoothly."   He looked at the twins seriously.   "I’m not the strategist here, Ron is."

"Yeah, General Weasley, how should we order the troops?" Fred asked cheekily.

"Are you serious?   You want me to figure this out for you?" Ron asked cautiously.

"Yeah, why not?" George replied.   "You’re more logical than either of us.   We’re the creative type, y’know."

"Yeah, so I’ve heard," Ron said with a chuckle.   "I do have some thoughts about how to reorganize the production, but I should take a bit of time working some stuff out before I start throwing ideas around."

Harry was busy drawing something.  

"What are you up to, mate?" George asked, looking over his shoulder.

"I’m trying to work out how to make a conveyor belt go without electricity," he muttered.   "I know there are spells to make it happen, but it’s the combination of spells with the conveyor belt idea and the mechanized processes of some steps in the manufacturing that are going to increase productivity.   And we’ll have to work out how to fit all of this within this space," he added, glancing around at the small work room.

"Blimey," Fred said to George, "he sounds like a bleeding executive or something!"

"Yeah.   And we have him dicing daisy roots.   We need to rethink his job assignment," George said with a cheeky grin and a snort of laughter.

"Ha, ha, very funny," Harry said, grinning.   "It’s likely to take me a while to work this out.   Can you give me a few days to work on it?"

"Of course!   We want this to be done right first time.   You and Ron put your heads together and get back to us when you have something worked out," George said.

"Don’t go into too much detail until you run it past us, though," Fred put in.   "We have some ideas of our own.   We may as well include every good concept we can come up with."

"Yeah, we don’t want to have to redo any of this any time soon!" George agreed.   "As for the size of the space — we can probably put a permanent Engorgement Charm on it somehow," he said with a questioning look at his twin.

"I’ll get in touch with Professor Flitwick and ask him about that," Fred agreed, reading his twin’s mind as usual.

Harry and Ron spent the rest of the work day pouring over diagrams, notes, charts, and walking around the small work space, writing down what was done for each step of each process, how many people worked on each process, and so on, so they’d have as complete a picture as possible of what the mechanized assembly line would need to do.

At close of play, both of them were tired and didn’t feel as if they’d accomplished much, despite having created huge mounds of parchment of both saved and discarded ideas.  

"Reckon it’s time to go home," Ron said, stretching until his back cracked.   They’d been bent over their work without a break for hours.

"Yeah," Harry agreed, looking at his watch.   "Oh, I need to see Mr. Ollivander first."

"What for?"

"Dunno.   He asked me to call in yesterday, but of course, I never got back here.   I sent him a note saying I’d see him today.   I’ll do that before I leave," Harry said as he straightened up his work area and called Merlin down from where he’d perched on top of an open door.

"I’ll walk with you," Ron offered.   "I’d like an ice cream before I leave Diagon Alley.   I just love working here, don’t you?" he said with a grin.  

"Yeah, the shop is brilliant, and I love Diagon Alley.   It’s going to be great fun to be here every day," Harry agreed as they left the shop and glanced at the shops surrounding them.

"I wanted to talk to you about what to do with my money," Ron said quite seriously.   "I’ve never had a bank account, but I think I’d like to put at least some of it in the bank for safekeeping."

"That’s a good idea, mate," Harry agreed.   "You can get an interest-bearing account so your money actually earns more money, rather than just sitting there gathering dust."

"Really?   Wicked!"

"We can go to Gringotts and get the manager there to explain things to you.   He’s the one who helped me set up the fund with the money from Colin’s poster and Famous Wizard Card sales," Harry replied.   "And we can check out Firebolts on the way back," he added with a cheeky grin.

"Great!" Ron said, grinning happily.  

Mr. Ollivander was outside his shop, his hands in his pockets, apparently enjoying the sunshine when they passed.

"Mr. Ollivander!   Hi!   Sorry about yesterday," Harry said as they neared him.   "I have time to talk to you now, if that’s convenient."

"Yes, certainly!   Thank you for coming!" Mr. Ollivander said, an edge of excitement in his voice.   The man seemed to have boundless energy, which was amazing in someone as ancient-looking as he was.   Harry wondered if he was the "original" Ollivander, since the shop’s sign said they’d been making wands since 382 BC.   Nah, that just wasn’t possible. . .was it?     He’d have to ask Remus or Dumbledore some time.

Merlin flew to Harry, landed on his shoulder and ruffled his hair a bit with his beak and chirped a few liquid notes, then flew up to perch on the brace of a nearby shop sign.

"Who’s this?" Mr. Ollivander said curiously.   "I don’t recognize him, and I thought I knew all of the phoenixes in England."

"He’s mine," Harry said, glancing up at the bird.   "His name’s Merlin.   He’s been away visiting somewhere and just let me know he was back whenever I’m ready to go home."

"Merlin!   What a wonderful name for him.   When did he come to you?" Mr. Ollivander said, watching the magnificent scarlet bird cleaning his feathers.

"When I was recovering after the Battle of Little Hangleton."

"Yeah, Merlin helped Harry get better, and helped Harry save Colin Creevey’s life as well," Ron said.   "He’s cool, Merlin is."

"I quite agree, Mr. Weasley!   How is your wand doing?" Ollivander asked, smiling at Ron.   "Willow, fourteen inches, unicorn hair, if I’m not mistaken, correct?"

"Absolutely," Ron agreed, amazed by the man’s memory.   "It’s great!   Works much better than my brother’s old wand did."

"The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Weasley.   A hand-me-down wand never works as well as one that has chosen you," Mr. Ollivander said, tapping his nose with his finger and giving Ron a wise look.   "Now, Mr. Potter, I do need to speak to you."   He looked at Ron and hesitated.

"I don’t have any secrets from Ron," Harry said.   "What’s up?"

Ron’s curiosity kept him standing where he was.   He knew he should excuse himself and go get his ice cream, then go home, but Ollivander was acting mysteriously and intensely about something, which was quite intriguing.

"Well, then, young gentlemen," Ollivander said, agreeing after a moment to Ron’s presence, "if you would come into my work room. . ."

Ron nudged Harry suddenly.  

"What?"   Harry said, confused.

"Password?" Ron whispered.  

"Password?" Ollivander repeated.   Apparently, the man had excellent hearing.   "Ah yes, Professor Dumbledore said I would need a password with you.   A safety precaution, he said."

"Yes," Harry agreed.   "It seems to be necessary for me these days.   Sorry."

"Yes, I quite understand, but I’m not sure what you would accept as a password from me," the old wizard said, his head tilted quizzically at the young man.

"Um," Harry began uncertainly, then thought of something.   "What was my father’s wand especially good for?"

"Yes, yes, James Potter’s wand was excellent for Transfiguration.   And your mother’s wand was a nice one for Charms," Ollivander said with a smile.

"That’s good enough for me," Harry said, returning his smile and following him willingly toward the work area behind the shop, Ron following close behind him, Merlin flying ahead and finding a place to perch.  

Just before entering the work area, Ollivander turned back and pointed his wand at the shop door, which closed and locked, and the "Open" sign flipped to say "Closed."   He led them into the work area and stopped by a table, where six new wands were under construction.  

"I wanted to talk to you about your wand, as I said.   Professor Dumbledore told me about your surviving The Refiner’s Fire.   I’m so glad you made it through safely, Mr. Potter!"

"Me, too," Harry replied grimly, remembering bits of the agony he’d suffered the previous summer.

"He told me also about the tremendous increase in your powers that resulted from surviving that illness, which is why I asked you about your wand.   You’re certain it hasn’t given you any trouble, no stuttering or shuddering or slowness in response, none of that?"

"It’s been fine, honestly," Harry assured him.

"Excellent!   Professor Dumbledore told me you are doing very well with wandless magic.   I wonder. . .have you tried using your wand on the same spells you do wandless?"

"When I was first learning how to do them, yes.   Now that I can do them wandless, why should I?"

"Power, Mr. Potter.   Much more power!   I am, as you might imagine, a bit prejudiced, but wands focus and concentrate magical power in ways wandless magic cannot.   If your wand is performing well for you, that’s wonderful!   But I had an idea while talking with Professor Dumbledore, and I wanted to talk to you about it."   He gestured toward stools by the workbench.   "Please, gentlemen, be seated."

"OK."   Harry couldn’t imagine what was going through Ollivander’s mind, or why Dumbledore had revealed Harry’s prowess at wandless magic to him.   He glanced at Ron as they both sat down and saw that he was equally confused.

"Professor Dumbledore also told me about," Ollivander glanced around as if someone might be listening, then leaned in close to Harry and whispered, "your Animagus transformations.   I’m particularly interested in the phoenix and thestral forms."

Harry was shocked.   Dumbledore had told someone about those Animagus forms?   He knew his headmaster wouldn’t share such information lightly.   "Um. . .why?"

"I believe I can make you a much more powerful wand, Mr. Potter, one that will simply sing in your hands!   It won’t have that, um, little problem," he said with an uneasy glance at Ron, "that yours has when facing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and will be much more powerful, I believe.   It should help you in your battles with him."

"Little problem?" Ron muttered, completely confused.

"Tell you later, mate," Harry said quietly.   To Ollivander he said, "That would be fantastic!"

"What I need from you, Mr. Potter," Ollivander said quietly, "is two tail feathers from your phoenix form, two tail hairs from your thestral form, and two of your own hairs.   I’m glad you’ve grown your hair so long — it’s nearly long enough for what I need."

"My hair?" the boy said in surprise.   "I’ve never heard of a wand with the wizard’s hair in it."

"You do remember that Miss Delacour’s wand had a Veela hair core, correct?"

"Yes.   But a Veela is a magical creature, isn’t it?" the boy asked in confusion.

"That’s right," Mr. Ollivander said with an approving nod, as if he was a professor and Harry his student who’d come up with the correct answer.

The young man shook his head in disbelief.   Was the old man losing his mind?   "I’m not a magical creature — I’m just Harry.   Just a normal human being.   Well, a normal wizard, anyway.   I’m not a magical creature at all!"

"Well, ‘just Harry,’ you have become something much more than ‘just’ a wizard.   I may be wrong in this, but I believe your hair may have magical properties that will make it an effective core for a wand.   If I’m wrong, then the wand won’t work at all.   If I’m right, it could be a very powerful wand indeed," the man assured him.

"Would a wand with Harry’s hair in it work for anyone?" Ron asked cautiously.

"Perhaps," Ollivander said.

"Then what are you going to do with the extra wands you’re making?" Ron said, gesturing toward the six wands lying on the table.

"Yes, why do you need two of each thing?" Harry asked.   "And why do you need three different things, my hair, the phoenix feathers and the thestral hairs?   How many can you put in one wand?"

"I had planned to make a total of six wands for you, Mr. Potter, although, now that I see you have your own phoenix, if he’s willing to donate a feather or two, I would be happy to make one or two more wands for you to choose from."   At Harry’s raised eyebrows, Ollivander went on, "Never fear.   The ones that don’t choose you will be destroyed.   We don’t want that kind of power in anyone else’s hands.   Of course, I don’t believe they’d work in someone else’s hands, but it’s better to be safe, don’t you agree?"

"Absolutely," Harry said seriously.   "Are these the ones you’re making for me?"

"They may be.   I have to see which woods and lengths suit the magical core best.   Knowing you, the wand that chose you, and what you’ve accomplished with your magic — the Animagus transformations, for instance — I was able to come up with some sample wands that may do the job.   But once I study these magical core materials, I’ll be better able to know which wood to use."

"It would be cool to have a wand like that," Ron said wistfully.

"It might also be quite dangerous," Ollivander said.   "If I’m correct in my thinking, these wands will be much too powerful for the vast majority of wizards to use — no offence, Mr. Weasley."

"None taken.   I know I’m nowhere near as powerful as Harry.   Nobody is but Dumbledore, actually."

Harry punched Ron gently in the shoulder.   "Knock it off or you’ll give me a big head," he teased, trying not to blush at Ron’s compliment.

"It’s true and you know it," his friend insisted.

Harry just shook his head and turned back to Ollivander.   "OK, you need my hair longer?   I can do that, if you want," he offered.

"I’d like to get these wands made as soon as possible.   It would take you weeks to grow it long enough," Ollivander said apologetically.  "I can make do with the length you have, I believe."

"No, you don’t understand.   I can control the length of my hair.   How long do you want it?" he said eagerly.   He was finally accepting Ollivander’s idea, and was quite excited by it.   A wand that could best Voldemort’s?   He’d do anything for one like that!

"You can grow it at will?"

"Or shorten it.   Same with my beard.   Just put your hand on my back to show me how long you want it."   Ollivander put his hand down below Harry’s shoulder blades.   "Right," Harry said, then grinned at Ollivander’s amazement as he watched the young man’s hair growing visibly longer.   In moments, it was long enough.

"Just there," Ollivander said, smiling in amazement as the shiny black waves reached the desired length.   "That’s a wonderful ability!   Hold still, I only need two hairs.   This may twinge a bit," he added as he pulled two hairs out by the roots.

"Ouch!" Harry said in surprise.   "Is that all you need?"

"Yes, that’s fine," the man said.

"Blimey, Harry, from the back you look like a really tall girl with gorgeous wavy hair!" Ron teased.   "Better put it back the way you had it or the twins will be after you for a date!"   He chuckled at his own joke.   "They’ve always said it would be fun to date an Amazon."

"Thanks a bunch, Ron!" Harry said with a snort of laughter, running his hands over his long hair.   He pulled it around to the front so he could see what Ron was talking about.   "Huh.   I didn’t know it would be so wavy."

"It curls a bit even when it’s short," Ron reminded him.

"Yeah, a bit," Harry agreed, running his fingers through the silky length of his hair.   "Odd feeling, knowing this is my own hair," he said with a chuckle, then tossed it behind his shoulder and started shortening it.   In moments, it was back where he’d had it before, curling softly down to his shoulders.

"Now, Mr. Potter, if you please, the phoenix form?" Ollivander prompted, then clapped his hands excitedly when a phoenix with green eyes appeared where Harry had been sitting.   "Oh, how marvellous!   No wizard has managed a magical animal transformation in ages!   Well done!   I’ll need two tail feathers, please."   He tugged Harry’s tail, but the feathers wouldn’t come free.   "Oh, dear.   I forgot to tell you.   Phoenixes control their tail feathers similarly to the way you control your hair, Mr. Potter.   I can’t simply pull them free.   You must release them."   He tugged again, and this time the two feathers came free.   "Wonderful!   Thank you so much."  

Harry turned back into himself.   "I’ll need more room for the thestral — it takes up a lot of space," he said apologetically, glancing around at the tiny cluttered work area.

"Not a problem!" Mr. Ollivander said, then waved his wand so all the work tables, benches and stools were pushed against the walls, leaving a large clear area in the centre of the room.   "Is this large enough?"

"If I can hold the wings close to my body — but when I first transform, they nearly always seem to be spread at first.   I don’t know why.   I’ll try to be careful," Harry said.

"Wait!" Ron cried, stopping Harry before he transformed.   "How about an Engorgement Charm on the room — then you’ll have enough space for your wings."   He turned to Ollivander.   "I’ve seen Harry as a thestral.   He needs a lot more space than this.   His wingspan is huge."

"Certainly!" Ollivander agreed, then enlarged the room to three times its normal size.   "Is this big enough?"

"Yeah, I think that’ll do," Ron said, glancing at Harry.   "You reckon?"

"I just live inside the thestral — you’ve seen it from the outside.   If you think it will fit in here, I trust you," Harry said with a shrug.   "You’d better stand over there, Mr. Ollivander," he warned.

"Yeah, come on, Mr. Ollivander," Ron agreed.   "We need to stay out of his way until he’s transformed."   He and the wizened old man moved next to the wall and watched in amazement as Harry Potter turned into a huge thestral with a tremendous wing span.   Just as Harry had said, when the thestral first appeared, its wings were spread.   He folded them to his body as soon as the transformation was complete.

Ollivander was clapping his hands with glee.   "Marvellous!   Simply marvellous!" he cried.   He walked up to the thestral and ran his fingers through its long silky mane, then moved to the tail and felt the hairs there.   "I think it’s possible the mane hairs will be more appropriate than the tail hairs, Mr. Potter," he said in surprise.   "I’ve never used thestral hair in a wand before, but I feel the magic more powerfully in the mane than the tail.   I’ll take two from your mane, then, shall I?" he said.   "Here we go," he muttered as he pulled two long wavy black mane hairs out by the root.

"Are you certain the tail hairs won’t work?" Ron asked suddenly.   "Maybe you should take some of those, as well, just in case.   I mean, since Harry’s already the thestral and all. . . ."

"That’s an excellent idea, Mr. Weasley," Ollivander agreed.   "All right with you, Mr. Potter?"

The thestral turned its reptilian face toward the man, its green eyes glittering brilliantly against the black hide.   It blinked, then dipped its head in a distinct nod.

"Wonderful!" Ollivander said, then took two tail hairs to add to his collection.   "Well done!   Thank you, Mr. Potter!"

With that, Harry changed back into himself, rubbing the back of his head.   "Ouch.   You took the mane hairs from the same spot as you took my own hairs," he grumbled.

"Oh, I’m sorry!" Ollivander said in dismay.   "I had no desire to hurt you!"

"Not a problem," Harry said with a grin.   "I was just surprised.   I didn’t know that part of my head was that particular section of the thestral’s neck.   It’s just kind of interesting."

"And what’s sore from the tail hairs being pulled out?" Ron teased.

"You don’t want to know!" Harry said with a dramatic grimace, then grinned.

Ollivander laughed at the boys teasing each other.   "And now, your phoenix, if he’s willing?"

"Merlin?   Do you want to contribute a couple of tail feathers?" Harry asked him.   The bird chirruped a few times.   "He doesn’t want anyone else to have a wand with his tail feathers in it.   He’s willing to donate them for me, that’s all."

"Certainly.   I will treat his feathers the same way I will treat yours.   They are for you, and you alone, Mr. Potter.   Whatever is left over will be destroyed so no one else can touch them or use them in any way," Ollivander assured him.

"All right then.   Merlin?   What do you say?" Harry asked the magnificent bird.   After a brief chirp, Merlin flew down to the work table and released two tail feathers, then flew back up to the top of the door where he’d been perched before.

"Thank you, Merlin!" Ollivander said, smiling up at the bird.   He picked up the feathers and stroked them, his face growing very still.   "Curious.   Quite curious," he muttered.

"What’s curious?" Harry asked, beginning to worry that he shouldn’t have involved Merlin.   The phoenix’s identity was supposed to remain a secret from as many people as possible.   What had he done, allowing the old man to have two of Merlin’s feathers?

Ollivander looked up at Merlin, his eyes alight.   "So good to see you again, old friend."

"What?" Harry said, dumbstruck.

Mr. Ollivander smiled at Harry, and gave him a conspiratorial wink.   "His secret’s safe with me.   I don’t know if his feathers will work for you, but I’ll try them.   And if they don’t, I will most certainly destroy them along with the other things.   These two feathers are far too valuable to risk their getting into the wrong hands."

Merlin sang a short, sweet tune as he stared at the old wand maker.   "Yes, I agree," Ollivander said, gazing up at the bird.   "I would love to hear how you came to be in that form, and came to be here, as well."

Merlin chirped again.  

"Ah, that would be lovely," Ollivander said with a delighted smile.

"What’s he saying?" Ron asked Harry in confusion.

"Merlin said he’d come visit Mr. Ollivander while I’m at work, and they can catch up then.   Apparently they knew each other sometime in the past," Harry whispered.

"Wicked!" Ron said, impressed.   He and Harry both looked at Mr. Ollivander with new respect in their eyes.   They’d always known there was something very unusual about the wandmaker, but he hadn’t even required the incantation for him to be able to understand Merlin.   No one else but Harry could understand the phoenix without the use of that incantation.   Harry and Ron each pondered this as Ollivander went on about his business.

As Ollivander waved his wand to put his work area back as it had been before he had made room for the thestral, he arranged all the items he’d taken from Harry and Merlin carefully on his workbench by the six partly made wands.   He frowned in concentration.   "Yes.   Hmm.   Yes, yes.   Ah," he muttered.

"‘Ah’ what? Harry asked, watching Ollivander’s face closely.   "What do you see?"

"I see potential, Mr. Potter, tremendous potential!" he replied, smiling broadly up at Harry.   "These are very powerful magical items.   If they work as I think they will, you will soon have a magnificently potent weapon indeed in your fight against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.   I’ll be in touch."

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander," Harry replied.   "Bye."

"Goodbye, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley.   You should be hearing from me by the end of the week, Mr. Potter," Ollivander said, glancing up from his work bench suddenly.   "I should be finished with these by then.   Goodbye, Merlin!   I look forward to seeing you again soon!"

* * * * *  

On Friday, Harry went to Ollivander’s shop at lunch time, Ron close on his heels.   The bell jangled as they entered the shop.  

"Hello!   Mr. Ollivander?" Harry called.   "It’s Harry Potter."

Ollivander emerged from the back of the shop.   "Wonderful to see you, Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley!"

"I just thought I’d stop to see if you were finished with. . ." Harry stopped, startled by Ollivander’s hand on his arm.  "What is it?"

"Don’t speak of it here," Ollivander whispered, glancing nervously out of his window.   "Don’t turn around.   There are dark forces at work everywhere."

"Who’s outside?" Harry asked uneasily, surreptitiously pulling his wand out of his pocket.

Ollivander smiled at him broadly.   "So nice of you boys to come visit me today.   How are you enjoying your work in the joke shop?"  

"Um. . .fine," Harry said, wishing he had a magical eye like Moody’s.   Then he kicked himself mentally and thought of his glasses.   Once he’d invoked their powers, he could see a group of hooded men loitering across the street.   "Who are they?" he whispered to Ollivander.   "Are they after you or me?"

"Do come see me again, gentlemen!   I always enjoy visiting with you," Ollivander said, reaching out and shaking Harry’s hand, then Ron’s.  

Harry closed his hand quickly on the note Ollivander had pressed into his.   He pushed his hand into his pocket, shoving the note deep inside.   As he and Ron turned toward the door, Harry called back, "We’re off to lunch, Mr. Ollivander.   Can we bring you something?"

"You know, I would quite fancy a lemon ice.   Would you mind?" Ollivander said with a smile and a wink at Harry.

"We’ll bring it by on our way back to work," Harry promised, then grabbed Ron’s sleeve and hustled him out of the door.   "C’mon, I’m starving!" he said with a grin.   "Race you to the Leaky Cauldron!"   The two boys pounded down the cobbled street, pulling up in front of the archway to the pub’s back garden.

"What the hell was that all about?" Ron said, looking at Harry nervously.

"Dunno," Harry replied seriously.   "Let’s get some lunch and then maybe I can look at this note."

"What note?"

"The one Ollivander pressed in my hand when he shook it."

"Who was that outside the shop?"   Ron asked as they sat down at a table in a deserted corner of the pub.

"Dunno.   They were all hooded, but they just didn’t feel right, y’know?   And who wears a hood up like that in the middle of a sunny summer day?"   Harry scratched his head in puzzlement.   "They had a weird feeling about them.   And I can’t imagine Ollivander being scared of much, can you?"

"No.   That’s what made me so nervous when he acted like that," Ron replied.   "What’s the note say?"

"It says to meet him after work at the Shrieking Shack to try out the wands.   He says someone saw me in the shop the other day and he’s afraid Voldemort suspects something."   He glanced up at Ron.   "I suppose that’s why he was so nervous.   He must have thought those were Death Eaters out there."

"Or You-Know-Who himself," Ron said darkly.

"Well, let’s eat," Harry said, pushing the note back in his pocket and signalling the waiter.

"You can eat after learning that?" Ron said in shock.

"Why not?   I’ve nearly always got someone trying to kill me these days," Harry said philosophically.   "No point in giving them an edge by starving myself, is there?"

Ron laughed.   "Makes perfect sense to me," he said.   "You’ve grown up, Harry."

Harry snorted.   "Why do you say that?"

"Once upon a time, when a young lad named Harry Potter knew he had to face anything the least bit scary, he stopped eating.   Quidditch games, the dragon in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, exams, asking a girl to the Yule Ball — if he knew it was coming soon, he wouldn’t eat no matter how hard Hermione and I tried to talk him into it.   But here you are, the grown up and mature Harry Potter, telling me it’s time to eat.   Well done!"

"I guess I got tired of being hungry all the time," Harry said with a shrug, but then his voice grew more serious.   "But mostly, I’m tired of them ruining my life.   I’m not going to let him have that power over me anymore."

"The power to keep you from eating?"

"The power of just the thought of him scaring me into not eating," Harry said with determination.   However, when his sandwich and crisps were sitting in front of him, he barely touched them.

"Harry?   What was that about eating?" Ron teased him gently.

"I guess there’s a difference between saying something and doing it," he replied, manfully forcing himself to take a bite of his sandwich.

"There ya go," Ron encouraged him.   "Now take another bite."

Harry just gave him a dirty look, then swallowed the small bite he’d been chewing for far too long.   "Give me time."

Ron looked at his watch.   "We don’t have much left, y’know."

"Rats, I forgot," Harry said, taking a good-sized bite of his sandwich, then washing it down with his juice.   "OK, let’s go."

The boys remembered to get Mr. Ollivander his lemon ice and stopped at his shop to give it to him.  They hadn’t seen the hooded figures since they’d returned to Diagon Alley.

"Mr. Ollivander!   We have your lemon ice," Harry called.

Ollivander came into the front of the shop and took his ice, smiling.   "Thank you so much," he said, handing Harry a few knuts to cover the cost of the ice.   "And thank you for understanding before.   Is that location suitable for you?"

"Yes, it’s fine.   Why do we have to go there?   You usually get people to try out wands here," Harry said in confusion.

"I don’t want my shop blown up inadvertently," Ollivander said with a chuckle.   "See you this afternoon then?"

"Yes," Harry agreed, waving to the man as he and Ron left the shop.

* * * * *

Late that afternoon, Ron Apparated and Harry and Merlin flashed to the hill overlooking the Shrieking Shack.   Mr. Ollivander had not yet arrived.

"I wish Ginny was here and we were inside the Shack," Harry said wistfully.

"I thought Hermione and I got the Shack next time, and you two got the tunnel," Ron teased.

"Yeah, you’re right!   Where are those girls when we need them," Harry said with a smile.

"Ginny’s at The Burrow and Hermione’s somewhere in Italy, I suppose," Ron said ruefully.   "And here we are alone."   He sighed.

"Still," Harry mused, "it’s a beautiful day, and it’s nice to be back.   I’ve missed it here."

"Me too."

Just then Mr. Ollivander arrived. "My apologies for being late, gentlemen. I had some preparations to make, and a few late afternoon customers delayed me. Oh, and my password is your dad’s wand was good for Transfiguration."

"No problem," Harry assured him. "Thanks for the password." He looked curiously at the stack of boxes Mr. Ollivander held carefully in both hands. "Is that them?"

"Oh, yes," Mr. Ollivander said, a very pleased smile creasing his ancient face.   "I must say, I believe these are some of my very best work.   I can’t wait to see which one suits you best."

"Me neither!" Harry agreed.

Ollivander conjured a small table and spread the boxes out on it.   "I’m going to make notes about how each one works for you.   I need you to tell me what you feel, what you sense from the wand, and so on, before you try to use it, and after you’ve done a simple spell with it."

"You don’t want me to just give it a wave the way I did for the first one?" Harry asked, puzzled.

"Oh no, that could be dangerous with these!   They are extremely powerful wands, and you don’t know how they will work for you yet — nor do I, for that matter," he said with a delighted smile.   "This is all quite experimental, you know!   I haven’t had this much fun in years."

Harry and Ron exchanged a glance and smiled at the wizened old man’s obvious pleasure.

"Now then.   Mr. Weasley and I will wait over there by the trees.   I’ll put a shield up to protect us.   You aim the wand away from us and the Shrieking Shack, um. . .let’s see," he said, looking around.   "Yes, there’s a nice meadow along there.   Point it that direction, there’s not much you can hurt there."

"OK.   Which one do you want me to try first?" Harry asked, looking excitedly at the wands, his hands itching to try them.

"Wait until we’re shielded, then use whichever one strikes your fancy," Ollivander said with an encouraging smile.

Soon Ron and Ollivander were safe behind a shield and a good distance away from Harry.   When he saw they were ready, he grinned and opened the first box in the row.   He held it up so the wandmaker could see which one it was.

"Yes, yes, oak and mahogany, 15 inches — I won’t tell you the core material of any of them until the test is over.   I don’t want to prejudice the results," the old man said as he made some notes on a piece of parchment.

"Right," Harry agreed.   "Wait a sec.   If the wand chooses the wizard, how can my knowing the core material prejudice the results?"

"You’re such a powerful wizard now, from all Professor Dumbledore tells me, that they should all work well for you.   But only one will feel absolutely right to you, I believe.   You might, perhaps, think that a wand with Merlin’s tail feather as the core would be more powerful than one with any of the core materials I got from you," Ollivander explained.   "If you go into test thinking a wand with Merlin’s tail feather will work better for you than another, it might truly work better for you than another for this initial test simply because of your initial prejudice in its favour.   I believe nearly any of these wands will work well for you, but that only one of them — and I don’t know which one — is the ‘perfect’ wand for you.   You and that wand will know when you get together, or possibly after you’ve worked with it for a few minutes.   You’ll just have to judge them based on how they feel to you, how they work for you, and so on."  

Ollivander rubbed his hands together excitedly, his huge eyes gleaming excitedly.   "Now, then.   On to the tests!   Before you try a spell, tell me how the wand feels in your hand."

"OK."   Harry thought a moment, weighing the wand in his hand.   "It feels warm, tingly, um. . .I can feel a vibration from it when it’s just lying in my hand, as if it has a life of its own."   He looked questioningly at the wandmaker.   "Is that the kind of thing you wanted to hear?"

"Yes.   I need to know how it feels to you, how you react to it, all of that."

"OK. Well, um. . .it makes me a bit nervous, actually," he said with a laugh.

"Why?"

"I can feel its power.   I never felt power like this with my old wand."

"Good.   That’s as it should be.   All of those wands feel immensely powerful to me," Ollivander assured him.

"Have you tried any spells with them?" Harry asked.

"No.   I’m not as powerful a wizard as you are.   It could be harmful for someone else to use those wands."

"Wow," Harry said, impressed.   "I didn’t think there was a wand made you couldn’t at least play with a little.   I mean, you make them!   How can you make them if they aren’t safe for you to handle?"

"Very carefully, Mr. Potter.   Very carefully," Ollivander replied with a wry grin.

"I’m ready to try a spell now. . .I think," Harry said, gulping a bit to quell his nerves.

"A simple spell, remember," Ollivander warned.

Harry spotted a large boulder on the far side of the pasture.   "How about levitating that rock?" he called to Mr. Ollivander.   "Is that simple enough?"

"Yes, that should do just fine."

Harry set the wand back down, took a deep calming breath and shook out his hands.   He picked up the wand, a look of concentration on his face, and did the simple "swish and flick" motion required for the Levitation Charm.   "Wingardium Leviosa," he cried, and stood watching in shock as the boulder rocketed upward for perhaps two hundred feet before he thought to stop the spell.   He watched in fascination as the boulder hurtled back toward earth, then held his bare hand out and said, "Aresto Momentum."   He was pleased to see the boulder land softly, rocking a bit before settling back in the depression from which it had leaped mere moments before.

"Oh, well done, Mr. Potter!" Ollivander called.   "Well done!   May I ask why you slowed the motion of the rock with wandless magic rather than the wand?"

Harry laughed ruefully.   "I knew I could control it wandlessly.   This wand is awesome!"

"Good!   Try the spell again, with minimal wand movement and a very quiet incantation."

"OK," Harry agreed.   Following the wand maker’s directions, the boulder lifted quickly but stopped when the young wizard told it to, and descended back to its resting place in good order.   Harry used the wand for the entire procedure.   He was grinning widely when the boulder settled back in place.   "Wow!   This is great!"

"That’s just the first wand, Mr. Potter," Ollivander reminded him.   "You have nine more to try."

Harry went through all the wands, trying the Levitation Charm with each.   With some, he tried various other simple spells, getting the feel for the wands that felt best to him.   Finally, he had three wands in his pile of favourites.   "How do I choose which one?"

"Do a difficult spell with each one.   Pay attention to how the wand makes you feel, and how easy or difficult the spell seems when you do it," Ollivander suggested.

Harry lifted the first of his three finalists and showed it to Ollivander.  

"Holly, 15 inches, nice and supple," Ollivander commented, making notes on his parchment.

Harry forced himself to relax and then concentrate.   A difficult spell.   Which one?   His decision made, he held out the wand toward the now much abused meadow and whispered, "Expecto Patronum."   A monstrous stag flew out of the end of the wand and reached the far end of the distant meadow in three huge bounds.   "Whoa," Harry murmured.   The stag turned and looked at him, then came cantering back.   As tall as he was, Harry didn’t reach the knees of the massive beast.   It lowered its silvery head to him and he reached up to pat it.   "I can feel it!   I can feel something there!" he cried, turning to his observers.   "I’ve never felt more than mist when I’ve touched my Patronus before!"   The stag dissolved when Harry turned his attention away from it.

"What did you feel?" the old wand maker asked, his face creased in a wide grin.

"I felt. . .I felt. . . ."   Harry tried to recapture that feeling.   "I felt joy.   I felt happiness.   I felt power.   I felt. . .something not quite solid, but not mushy-feeling, either.   It was THERE!   It was solid, it was real!   Wow!"

"Wicked," Ron murmured, a huge smile on his face.   "Nothing can stop Harry’s Patronus as it is — and now this?   Wicked!"

"It almost felt. . .um. . . ." Harry was struggling, trying to explain something he’d never felt before.   "I could feel a. . .a sizzle inside it, sort of.   It was amazing!"

"Well done!   Try another spell with that wand, a difficult spell," Ollivander directed.

Harry turned back toward the meadow, trying to decide which spell to use.   "Um, Mr. Ollivander?"

"Yes?"

"The trickiest spell I know is a defensive shield, but I’ve only done it wandless.   I use both hands for it.   I don’t know how to do it with a wand."

"Show me what you mean, then," Ollivander said calmly.

Harry put the wand back on the table and stepped a good distance away from it.   Then he spread his hands wide and concentrated, creating the golden protective sphere that took so much of his energy, but was the best shield he’d found in all his research.   He was careful that the sphere didn’t reach the table with the wands on it.   He wasn’t sure what the wands might do in reaction to the sphere touching them.   When he saw Ollivander’s nod, he dissolved the sphere and stood, sweaty and panting, waiting for the man’s verdict.

"That’s a wonderfully difficult spell, isn’t it?" Ollivander said, scratching his head.   "I can see why you do it wandless.   However, I believe you can do it with one of these wands.   Pick up the one you were using and hold it so it points toward your other hand, then spread that hand as you were doing to create the sphere.   I think that will work."

"You think it will work?   What if it doesn’t?" Harry said in concern.

"We’re well shielded, and the shield charm shouldn’t hurt you.   You can dissolve it at any time, correct?"

"Yes, I just have to drop my concentration and it disappears.   It’s very fiddly that way."

"Then have a go at it," Ollivander encouraged.

Harry moved farther away from the two men and the table full of wands, then pointed the wand toward his left hand, which was spread in the position he used to create the sphere.   "Whoa!" he cried as he felt power surge through him.   A shimmer of gold appeared high above him, but disappeared at his exclamation.

"What happened?" Ollivander asked in concern.

Harry was gasping for breath.   "I . . .it. . ."

"Deep breaths, Mr. Potter, deep breaths."

Harry grinned.   "Talk about power!   I just had this huge surge of power flow through me — I thought I was going to be lifted right off the ground by it!"

"Are you all right?"

"Yeah!   I’m going to try again."   Concentrating and trying to regulate the power he was sending into the wand more subtly, Harry cast his spell again.   A tremendous golden sphere appeared around him, so large it almost reached the Shrieking Shack many yards away, and went high into the sky.

"Try to concentrate the power more," Ollivander suggested.

"More power?   That will make it bigger, won’t it?" Harry asked, astonished that he’d suggest such a thing.

"Concentrate it to make the walls more dense," the man amended.   "Perhaps it will be easier to maintain that way, once you work out how to do it."

"Oh."   Harry tried to refine his concentration of power, working to make the sphere smaller and with thicker walls.

"Harry!   Harry, where’d you go?" Ron cried in sudden fear.

The sphere was vibrating, collapsing in on itself with golden waves shimmering across its surface.   Harry had disappeared from within the sphere, and had not reappeared anywhere outside it that Ron or Ollivander could see.

"Mr. Potter, where are you?" Ollivander called, concerned.

"Harry!   Harry, where are you?   Are you all right?" Ron cried frantically, pounding on the shield in front of him.   "Let me out of here, Mr. Ollivander, I have to find him!"

"Wait," Ollivander said, putting a calming hand on Ron’s arm.   "There he is."

The sphere was more translucent now, the shimmering golden waves thinning, and they could see Harry inside, his face stony with concentration.   He disappeared again for a moment, and then returned.

"What’s happening?" Ron said nervously.

"I’m not sure," Ollivander replied.   "I don’t know this spell.   But I think perhaps he’s experimenting with making the walls thicker or thinner.   When they’re thick, they may become opaque, which is why we can’t see him.   But that’s just a guess on my part."

"It looked as if the sphere was going to collapse on him," Ron said, still panting from the panic that had coursed through his body just moments before.

"I think he’s all right," the old man said.   "He’s working very hard.   I can feel the magic even through this shield."

"Is that the tingly vibration I’m feeling?"

"Yes, that’s it exactly," Ollivander said, turning to smile at Ron approvingly.

The sphere suddenly went dark, a completely opaque dark gold.   Ron put both hands on the shield in front of him, murmuring, "C’mon, Harry, you can get out of this, come on, come ON!"

From dark gold, the sphere rapidly lightened until it was nearly crystal clear.   They could see Harry inside it, sweating profusely, looking nearly exhausted, but with excited, determined eyes.

"Mr. Potter, you don’t need to wear yourself out just testing these wands," Ollivander called, hoping to distract the young man.

"Harry, that’s enough!   Let it go now, OK?" Ron said, hoping Harry could hear them.

Finally, Harry looked through the sphere directly at Ron and gave him a cheeky grin, then dissolved the sphere.   Harry was panting, sweat pouring off of him, but he looked triumphant somehow.

"What the bloody hell do you think you were doing?" Ron cried, his fear for Harry’s safety turning quickly to anger.   "You scared us to death out here!"

Harry sat down hard on the ground, wiping his sweaty forehead on his arm, then rested his forearms on his upturned knees.   "Wow.   What . . . wow!" was all he could manage to say.   He massaged his head, easing the headache that using so much magic had brought on.  

"You OK?" Ron said in concern.

"Yeah, fine.   Bit of a headache, but it’s almost gone already," Harry replied, rubbing away the pain as he spoke.   A moment later, he looked up and grinned.

"I take it you liked that wand, Mr. Potter?" Ollivander said with great amusement.

"Like it?   I can’t tell you what a world of difference there is between this wand and my old one.   This one has so much power, it’s frightening.   It’s going to take me a long time to get used to it, to control it properly, I imagine," Harry said, weary but beaming.

"What were you doing with that spell?   It changed colours several times, and you disappeared a few times," Ollivander said.

"That’s a very tricky shield charm I found in an old book.   Dumbledore says he’s never done it, but I find it easy to conjure — it’s just damned hard to hold.   It takes a tremendous amount of power, yet very delicate control, to make it work properly.   I can’t hold it for very long, normally, but just now, I not only held it, I controlled it!   I made it bigger and smaller, made the walls thicker and thinner, all kinds of things.   I suppose when I disappeared, the walls must have looked opaque from outside, but I could see you both the entire time!   Isn’t that cool?"   His excitement was palpable.

"Wicked!" Ron agreed.   "What were you doing when it got all dark, and then almost perfectly clear, as if it wasn’t there?"

"I’m not sure I can explain it.   I was varying the power, the control, the intensity. . .I can’t explain it.   I’ll have to think about it a while.   But when it was clear, it was still a strong shield.   When it was dark, it was darker inside as well, but not completely dark.   I could still see outside.   I’m not sure what the uses would be for having it the various colours and so on, but it was amazing to see what I could do with it!"   He looked at the wand in his hands with something approaching reverence.   "This is a fantastic wand, Mr. Ollivander, it really is!"

"And you have two more to try!   Once you’ve rested, of course.   I didn’t expect you to go to such lengths testing one of them, but I think it was good that you worked with this one so long.   You should have a good feel for how it works for you now.   Are you comfortable with it?"   Mr. Ollivander leaned forward in his eagerness to hear Harry’s reply.

"Um. . . ‘comfortable’ isn’t a word I’d use to describe that wand, no," he replied.   "It’s so powerful, it kind of . . .pulls at me somehow.   I feel drained from using it, but filled up with power at the same time.   Is that how it’s supposed to be?"

"I honestly don’t know.   I’ve never made wands like these before," the old wandmaker admitted.

Harry stretched out on the ground, resting for a few minutes, then got up and placed the wand he’d been using to one side of the table, taking the second of the three that he’d chosen in his hand.   Harry went through the same tests as before, but didn’t spend as much time with the Sphere Shield Charm as he had before.

"How did this one feel?" Ollivander asked.  

"It’s OK.   It doesn’t feel as overwhelming as the first one, but it also doesn’t feel quite as powerful.   Of the two, I’d give this one second place," Harry said, laying it on the table and picking up the third one.   A gust of wind blew his long hair away from his face.   The same thing had happened when he’d picked this wand up when he was trying all ten of them for the first time.   He held the wand in his hand loosely, feeling the weight of it, the balance, the magic.   He closed his hand on it, letting the magic flow through him.   A tremendous stag Patronus emerged without him even saying the incantation.   The stag ran across the meadow and then returned to him.   He reached up and patted it, feeling the magic, the joy, the happiness and the near-solidity he’d felt in the Patronus he’d cast with the first wand, but somehow, this Patronus felt more comfortable to him.   He cast the Sphere Shield Charm and put it through its paces as he’d done before with the other wands.   This time, there was no vibration in the sphere at all, and the colours flowed smoothly around the surface in shimmering ripples, not rough waves as before.   Harry pointed the wand at the distant boulder and did a Levitation Charm with no verbal incantation, just thinking it.   The boulder lifted smoothly, floating, hovering, moving wherever Harry pointed his wand with no stuttering, no hesitation, and landing gently back where it had come from with no problems at all.   Harry tilted his head and stared at a small rock near his feet.   He pointed the wand at it and whispered something, and the rock turned into a small black kitten with green eyes.   He picked up the kitten and petted it, then turned set it down and returned it to its rock form.   He pointed at another rock and turned it into a hedgehog, then back to a rock.   A leaf flying through the air became a bird for a few moments.   He pointed the wand up in the air and three bright blue butterflies emerged from the end of it, fluttering away on the breeze.   Harry turned back to Mr. Ollivander and Ron, a huge, satisfied grin on his face.   "This is the one."

"I thought as much.   It seems to be working beautifully for you!" the old man said with pleasure, dropping the shield that had protected him and Ron while Harry was experimenting.

"That’s awesome," Ron enthused.   "You can do spells without even an incantation?"

"Some," Harry agreed.   "I just thought it, instead of saying it, just experimenting."

"How did you know which ones you could do that way?" Ron asked

"I didn’t.   I was just messing around with it."   He turned to Mr. Ollivander.   "So tell me about this wand."

"Ah yes, mahogany and holly, fifteen inches, pliable and supple, an excellent wand for Transfiguration, as you’ve already discerned.   Also very good at Charms, but it’s very best ability is defensive spells."

"Fantastic!" Harry said with a grin.   "Defensive spells are what I need most!   Which core is it?"

"I’m truly amazed, and yet not entirely surprised, Mr. Potter.   The core of this wand is one of your own hairs.   The wand that was your second choice was one of your phoenix feathers — yours, not Merlin’s."

"What’s in the one that vibrated so much that I tried earlier?"

"That one contains Merlin’s tail feather.   It’s an extremely powerful wand, and I’m sure you could master it at some point, but at this point in your life, with the training and strength you have, this mahogany and holly wand is the perfect wand for you."

"Why two woods?   Don’t you usually make them out of a single wood?" Ron asked curiously.

"Most of the other wands are a single wood. I only used two woods in three wands — the three that Mr. Potter chose.   I find that quite interesting."

"Why?" Harry asked.   "Why would two woods work better for me?"

"I honestly don’t know.   I work by instinct as well as education and experience, Mr. Potter, and my instinct told me to use certain woods with certain cores.   The wands with the thestral hairs seemed to work nicely for you, but you didn’t seem inspired by them.   The ones with phoenix feather cores seemed to satisfy you quite nicely, whether it was your feather or Merlin’s, but they just weren’t exactly the right fit, and you knew it.   The other wand with your hair in it was the one you nearly added to the three you chose as your finalists.   Remember hesitating over one and finally putting it back in the other pile?"

"Do you think I should try that one again?" Harry asked.

"If you’d like, but I believe you’ve found your wand in this one.   I find it interesting that the mahogany and holly wand is your choice.   Your other wand is holly, and your father’s wand was mahogany.   It’s interesting that the two woods combined are the perfect new wand for you."   Mr. Ollivander began to gather the other wands together, putting them back in the boxes he’d brought them in.

"What are you going to do with them?" Harry asked.

"As I promised you, I will destroy them.   You are welcome to watch.   I’ll also destroy my notes.   I’ll remember what I need to, in case I need to make you another wand in the future.   I don’t want any of this to fall into the wrong hands," Ollivander assured him.   "Come back to my shop with me for a few minutes, and we’ll take care of this matter."

"And I need to pay you for this wand, as well," Harry said, admiring his new wand.

"Oh no!   You will not pay me for that wand, Mr. Potter.   It is my way of contributing to the war effort," Ollivander said with great dignity.   "Alas, I am too old to fight, as much as I’d like to.   But my skills can help win this war by providing you with a weapon that should be a great help to you.   I hope it will protect you and help you win your battles quickly and with as few casualties as possible."

Harry was touched by the man’s generosity, as well as his statement.   "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander.   I’ll do my best to live up to this wand’s potential."

"It’s the wand that must live up to yours, Mr. Potter," the old man assured him.

Harry gasped suddenly — the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up.   "Get in the woods, quick!" he urged, helping Mr. Ollivander to get into hiding as fast as possible.

"What is it?" Ron whispered.

"Death Eaters, I think," Harry replied quietly.

• Previous
• Chapter 01 - The Heart of the Problem Chapter 02 - The Life and Times of Harry Potter Chapter 03 - Hairy Harry and the Beetles Chapter 04 - Charmed Memories Chapter 05 - More Guilt for Harry Chapter 06 - A Variety of Cures Chapter 07 - Matters of the Heart Chapter 08 - Pleasure and Peril Chapter 09 - Difficult Decisions Chapter 10 - Friendships Old and New Chapter 11 - Resolutions Chapter 12 - All Kinds of Learning Chapter 13 - Transfigurations Chapter 14 - Transfiguration Complications Chapter 15 - Racing the Moon Chapter 16 - A Variety of Lessons Chapter 17 - The Wedding Chapter 18 - Decisions Chapter 19 - Questions Chapter 20 - Changes in the Wind Chapter 21 - The Wizard's Apprentice Chapter 22 - Memories Chapter 23 - Merlin's Solution Chapter 24 - The D.A. Tournament Chapter 25 - Everlasting Sleep Chapter 26 - Consequences Chapter 27 - Quidditch, Anyone? Chapter 28 - Patterns Chapter 29 - Death and Destruction Chapter 30 - The Time of Destiny Chapter 31 - Harry Lends a Hand Chapter 32 - The Torch is Passed Chapter 33 - The Last Hurrah Chapter 34 - New Beginnings Epilogue - Part 1: The Post-Hogwarts Years Epilogue - Part 2: Back At Hogwarts Again
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