A/N: I waited a bit to get this out! Terribly sorry. But I have a new beta, and he'll get this beta'd for me when he isn't so busy hopefully. If anyone wants to beta story, I'm still looking for a bit of help. Will was kind enough to take on Fate's Whipping Boy and A Rational Child. I'm looking for help on my others. Cheers!

Disclaimer: I do not own this. Just a few ideas that weren't in JKR and a few OCs.

A Serving Extra Large

Chapter 11: Wood You be Mine?

Harry excitedly followed Ollivander through the imported wood store. These woods were carefully extracted and traded for from several hidden colonies, groups, and nations of magical people, beings and creatures. Harry marveled at them. Unlike the extra pieces he'd gotten from Ollivander, these were imbued with magic, from soaking in magically rich environments for centuries before being carefully harvested. Depending on the wood, the age, the amount of magic and where it came from, they acted in different ways. Some pieces seemed to glow, while others, even cut, were still growing. A few seemed to undulate in their containers or twitch on shelves.

It was all fascinating.

Ollivander nudged him and he pulled his attention away from some highly polished ebony to see a small diminutive figure. Ollivander gave a shallow bow to the person and Harry followed with a deeper one.

The woman's lips quirked.

"'Ullo 'ere Garrick," her soft lilting voice said, "Come for more wood?"

"Yes, madam," Garrick replied straightening from his bow, Harry rising a bit stiffly from his own, still unused to the gesture. "That and to teach my newest apprentice." The woman's pale gray-silvery eyebrow went up.

Harry marveled at her.

Barely four feet tall, the woman was delicate boned and had a long plait of silver-gray hair from the top of her head to the back of her knees. Knowing, velvety black eyes watched them both like a bird, and her skin was pale and fragile with age. Her simple outfit was a bit strange, a rawhide tunic that stretched to her knees and a pair of brown tights and slippers. Her small hands were artist in shape, long fingers pressing together as she studied the wand maker and his student.

"Alright then, Garrick," she said, "What is calling you?" Harry tipped his head to the side.

"Something a bit yellow and another that is a bit bluer than one would want," Garrick replied easily, his head tipping to the side and a thoughtful quality entering his eyes and voice.

Harry watched in interest as the woman nodded, thinking whatever he said over before disappearing almost, well he could only conclude she disappeared magically. She reappeared almost moments later carrying the requested wood in her arms.

One was dogwood, pale and long, reaching a length of two meters easily.

The other was rowan, an actual branch with the berries on it and touched by winter.

"That's them," Garrick said with satisfaction when she held the items out. He took them and Harry quickly found her focusing on him.

"What is your name, child-giant?" she asked.

"Harry, ma'am," Harry replied bowing again. She nodded.

"What is calling to you Harry the child-giant?" She asked. "The old wood-grazer has taught you to sense the calling right?"

"I'm sorry, but I don't think so," Harry replied apologetically. She turned and glared at Garrick who never noticed, occupied with his wood. She huffed out an annoyed breathe and turned back to face Harry, one hand going up demandingly.

"Hand," she snapped, he blinked but did what she wanted. She muttered and then suddenly his magic exploded out of his body and he felt into a slight daze. Magic was everywhere. It was singing, fluttering around his senses like a bird, the colors whipping around him powerfully. Scents bombarded him, and he shivered as he actually felt a variety of things brush against him or tantalized his tongue. It was a cacophony he'd never experienced before and was both overwhelmed and delighted.

This was magic.

"Focus your magic back in!" The madam barked and Harry struggled to do that. Finally as if tightening a fist cupping sand, the overpowering sensations began tapering off.

"You're too sensitive," the female continued, "Let your weakest senses go," and his sense of smell and taste faded. "Good," she pressed against his hand and slowly the scent of taste and his sight faded as well until only the senses buzzing against his skin and magic were all that was left.

"Mage touch, surprisingly simple, but annoyingly difficult, ye'll have a rough time of it lad," she grunted, "Oi! Garrick! Ollivander make love to the wood later and help yer apprentice!" Harry barely noticed his new master's approach after the words cut through the man's buzz but he felt the impatient tug on his hand and glanced down, confused.

"Easy there lad," Garrick said soothingly as he guided the eleven year old back to normal, "Take a quick breath, let it go."

"It feels so nice though," Harry replied, his voice coming out thick as if drugged. The madam snorted, amused finally and Garrick sighed. The boy was clearly a bit high on the feelings all the magical woods invoked in him.

"Well, you need to let it go," Garrick ordered and quickly twisted some of the skin on the back of Harry's hand causing him to yelp in surprise, finally dulling the sensations. "There's a lad," Garrick mumbled.

"You not overwhelmed anymore?" The owner asked, her hands on her hips, and Harry nodded a bit sheepishly. She nodded as well. "Good, feel it out boy! I'll bring it to you. Your fool of a teacher'll pay." Harry blinked but timidly tried.

Slowly his magic reached out, remembering the way things felt. All of them gave a pleasant buzz until suddenly he yelped again.

"That shocked me!" Harry said in amazement, his sense still reaching out, and then brushing against something that purred and rubbed against his magic, "And that just purred!" He pointed out in surprise.

The madam merely raised a brow and disappeared again and returned after several long moments where Harry gazed around half-drunk and half-startled. She reappeared and he instantly narrowed in on what she held.

Harry's magic rejoiced at them and he never noticed the proud smile appearing on his teacher's face as he timidly reached for them.

One was a simply gorgeous hunk of walnut, the golden brown wood smooth under his fingers as he accepted the heavy chunk. He could almost feel the crackle of living magic beneath his finger tips and when he drew one hand away to accept the second piece, lightning actually followed for a few centimeters.

The next piece warmed him, reminding him of a cat. This was a solid block, roughly cut but obviously cherry. It purred under his touch and he could feel it arching and rubbing against his magic.

"Active fellow, very sensitive," the woman said abruptly. "Pay me wood-grazer." She snapped and Ollivander smiled but offered her a bag of gold. She weighed in the palm of her hand and nodded abruptly. As she turned to leave she paused, and turned back.

"Child-giant," she stated, catching his attention. "Take this," she shoved something at him, "Plant it in a pot and keep it by your bed always." Harry nodded a bit dazed and accepted the small something.

It turned out to be a piece of living cedar branch.

Harry cradled it to his chest and bowed deeply to the woman as she vanished again.

Somehow, someway, he knew this little tree branch was more magical than anything else.

Garrick's eyes stayed wide.

They returned for lunch in a slight daze. Harry seemed to be torn between his wood and how to touch it while staring unblinkingly at his new cedar plant. Garrick had garbled out that it was a very special, very magical, very protective miniature cedar tree that would grow and eat any dangerous spirits and dreams that might attack Harry. Harry carefully carried them close to his chest, like a mother with a fragile baby.

Garrick was amazed that his student had such a strong immediate tie.

When they reached the shop, Harry was once again overwhelmed. The magic that had always been apparent in the shop flooded him eagerly, the woods brushing and feeling against him and he stumbled. Garrick caught him with his shoulder.

"Easy lad," he murmured. Harry blinked and pulled his magic in, and nodded in gratitude before heading towards the back and then up the stairs. They put their wood into their respective workrooms and returned to the kitchen.

Harry's head plunked onto the cool top of the wooden table and shivered. His magic was going wild. Garrick, able to make a fair tea even if he burned food the second it touched the pan, quietly fixed tea for them both. He remembered the first time he had opened up to magic, allowing the greatest of his senses to have free reign in sensing the mystical energy. While most magicians saw magic, leading to the very common term Magical Sight, some used it another way. He remember people who'd smelt it or tasted it, even heard it. But it was a very rare person who felt it.

He was even surer Harry was the correct person for the job. To have his level of sensitivity meant he was very empathic. HE felt stronger, relied on the true meaning in the magic, lacking the perceptions sight gave to it.

Garrick set the cup of tea near his apprentice's hand and smiled.

The last person he knew to feel magic had been his own master and father. Teaching this young boy would bring him back to a time he missed and cherished more than he could say.

After a quick lunch and lots of tea, Harry was rested enough to do the next activity of the day.

Sorting.

Much like when he'd helped Neville find a replacement wand, Harry was going through the different wands in the shop and familiarizing himself with them. Using his now heightened magical senses, honed by his magical awakening under the dryad's eye and hand, that's what Master Garrick had explained the older, diminutive woman to be, Harry felt everything in such clarity.

Some of the wands he touched were very particular, while others were relaxed and carefree. Some had an innate sense of self, while others felt as if they were very ready to learn.

Harry found it all to be very thought provoking.

After sorting several boxes, Ollivander let him go free to enjoy the rest of his day. Deciding to pick up some supplies to study with, Harry told Master Garrick he was off to shop for himself and dinner and jogged out. He'd gotten a number of items, especially books and art paraphernalia, when he realized he need to get some things for Professor Snape's class, having run low due to all the extra practice he'd made since the start of the school year.

Thus, Harry made the mistake to stop in at the Apothecary.

His magical sensitivity was in overdrive.

A breathe sputtered out of his lips and he stumbled back into the door, gasping as the different pieces of magic reached him and drowned him. Some of them felt alive, others cold. It was a hundred times worse than his initial awakening and he struggled to gain a hold of his magic and pull it back in.

A darkly draped arm came into his line of sight and he was suddenly dragged out of the store and onto the street where the magic was suddenly duller. Still wheezing and nauseous he could only mentally thank whatever kind person had grabbed him when they pushed him into a crouch with his head between his knees to gain lucidity.

"Are you alright, Mr. Potter?" A very smooth but velvety speech asked, a hint of concern in the familiar voice.

"Professor Snape," Harry replied weakly, "I will be alright in a minute. Just… Lost it."

"I saw," Severus replied, concerned over his best potion student. "Pray tell, what caused you to become lost, Mr. Potter?"

"Master Garrick took me wood shopping today and the madam in charge opened me up to the calling," Harry answered readily, "My magical sensitivity is apparently very good in feeling things out. I didn't expect the apothecary to cause me to react like that and wasn't braced for the sudden attack on my sense." Severus' hand clenched on the boy's shoulder as shock went through him but he nodded.

"And you are alright now?" Severus asked as the boy's once white and green colored skin slowly returned to the pale tan he already had.

"I feel much better," Harry stated, finally gaining his equilibrium, "Thank you, Professor Snape." He glanced down at the shorter male with a smile.

Severus nodded sharply.

Harry turned to look at the Apothecary with a shaky smile and a slight flinch.

Severus felt a chuckle developing in his chest as the quarter-giant seemed to wage an internal argument within over whether or not he wanted to enter again.

"Come, Mr. Potter," Severus said taking the boy's elbow, "Let me show you how to use your ability to the fullest with the art of Potion Making." Harry glanced at the darkly dressed Potion Master and smiled widely, unease forgotten.

"Thank you professor!" Harry said excitedly. Severus let the chuckle out this time.

"You will find I shall be even harder on you after this, Mr. Potter," Severus warned, "Now no more delaying, let's get you started."

The next two hours were absolute hell for Harry and his poor stomach.

Ollivander tried not to chuckle too loudly when his student returned with the enigmatic Professor Snape with a look of dazed nausea on his face and a floating trail of what looked to be the entire stock of an apothecary.

He would dare say Mr. Snape looked very smug.

"Decided to visit the Apothecary, lad?" Garrick asked amused.

"It was…" Harry stumbled over the words before dumping his supplies on the table and fishing for the bags with the specialty charmed grocery bags, "Interesting?" He finished timidly.

"He threw up twice," Severus told Garrick, amused. Harry pouted at them both when they both sniggered.

"I'm very sensitive!" He protested.

"Haha," Garrick said, "Aye, lad, you are. It'll be good for whatever line of work you go into." Harry pouted at them for a few more minutes before shuffling into the kitchen.

"I invited Professor Snape over as thanks, Master Garrick, I hope you don't mind," Harry called over his shoulder. The old wandmaker shrugged.

"I don't mind," Garrick replied, "What are you making?"

"I was thinking potato soup with bacon and ham," Harry answered, "There was some nice bread at the market today. I'll might even fix a crumble."

Garrick grinned.

"My apprentice," Garrick said in a confiding tone to the bemused Potion Master, "Has a very deft hand in the kitchen."

"He's a reliable potion student," Severus said with a nod, "His knife works are very good. It's nice to see he's able to use his capabilities to their fullest."

"Aye," Garrick said with a nod. "Now, tell me how your wand is treating you…"

Harry watched on amused as the two masters got into a heated argument over some sort of potion. While Master Garrick leaned heavier on his herbology and charm knowledge, he was no slouch with potions, his third mastery. The two were a sight and a lesson all rolled into one.

"If you diced it—" Severus pointed out before Garrick cut him out.

"Then you wouldn't have as strong a infusion—"

Severus sniffed, "But then it would counter—"

Garrick snorted.

Harry had no idea what was going on but it was fascinating.

When they started to pull out parchment and quill he decided it was time to intervene.

"Soup's ready," he said cheerfully, bringing the three bowls over to the kitchen nook, both men glancing up from where they were working in surprise and interest. Both sniffed and a bright smile appeared on Garrick's face while Severus arched an inquisitive brow.

"Smells wonderful lad!" Garrick exclaimed and practically skipped over. "Oh! You added peppers and spinach to it? Lovely!" He plunked himself into a seat and Harry cheerfully set a bowl in front of him with a spoon before placing the rest of the bowls and the communal bread dish.

"Is butterbeer good for you, Professor? Or would you prefer some pumpkin juice?" Harry asked, having already pulled out both.

"I'm fine with whatever you're having Mr. Potter," Severus replied.

"Alright then," Harry said before fetching the pitcher and the large bottle of butterbeer. He poured the drinks and sat in his seat. It was interesting, most of the conversation made up of Garrick's wild tangents and amusing non-sequiturs with Severus' sharp tongued cutting diatribe and quick thought-out conclusions. Harry learned more in that one dinner on advanced concepts to decide he was definitely taking Ancient Runes, Care of Magical Creatures and Arithmancy for his electives in third year. He'd also have to stick with Herbology and see if he couldn't find more books, or at least the ones the teachers both references and shot out like spells in a duel.

Like he said, interesting.

Severus returned to his quarters with an amused half-smirk, an air of contentment, and a quart sized jar of Potter's soup.

It really was good soup.

It had been a very good evening, Harry an inquisitive and well-spoken student and Garrick, as the old wand maker had finally convinced Severus to call him by, a wealth of knowledge and argument Severus rarely, if ever, was to partake in.

Severus had a standing offer now to visit for dinner whenever he wished.

Considering Mr. Potter, Harry, was a very good and accomplished chef he would undoubtedly be taking up that offer.

His good mood, however, tapered off when the fireplace he'd just stepped out of flared green.

"Professor Snape," a stern, female voice inquired. He turned and knelt onto the rug covered floor with a hidden grimace.

"Madam Bone," he said formally in greeting, "What can I do for you this evening?"

"I had a question regarding your defense on the third floor," the woman inquired with more politeness than he expected.

He mentally blinked in surprise none the less.

"Yes?" He said instead of showing it on his face.

"I was wondering if you would be so kind as to agree to make antidotes for the DMLE?" She inquired.

This time he did blink in surprise.

"You would like me to make antidotes for the DMLE?" He repeated stunned. "You do know my background?" He said to her.

Amelia Bones scowled.

"You were put onto trial in a closed courtroom under full Veritaserum confirming your two years of spy work against Voldemort, and willing submitted to fifteen years of constant supervision at Hogwarts, even when your plea bargain warranted you absolute freedom." She said shortly, her temper showing.

"Perhaps I did not feel I deserved it," Severus replied curtly. The steel haired woman eyed the younger male and sniffed.

"Professor Snape," she told him, "What you deserve was less than what you received, no matter what guilt you carry, remember you saved lives no matter how much damage a foolish seventeen year old child with big aspirations and no outlet caused until coming to his senses. Have some respect for those you saved through your sacrifice, if nothing else."

Fairly surprise, Severus could only offer a brief nod. The woman nodded briskly in response.

"Now will you make the antidotes or not, Professor Snape?" She repeated.

"I'll have to get some help," he said in response.

"I'll give you some trainees to torture then." She replied dryly.

Severus couldn't help but chuckle at that.

Harry was looking forward to the twenty-third, but before that he was very ecstatic to be going to one of the very rare magical creature sanctuaries in Britain.

"I can't believe we're going," Harry said excitedly as he packed for the two day one night trip. They would be leaving on the twenty-first and returning the twenty-second. This was something Garrick had actually planned to do over the summer, however, an unexpected birth of a number of unicorn colts, and the death of a very magical but secretive creature had them leaving immediately.

Harry was in fits of excitement and could barely keep a hold on himself.

"I've never traveled so far!" Harry said, "Well, except maybe to school!"

Garrick just chuckled and checked the food hamper Harry had slaved over. It had two large jars of soup, one vegetable and another the very delicious potato soup he'd made earlier, sandwiches made with cold cuts, a selection of finger foods like crisps and chips that would stay fresh no matter what, several thermos of already made tea, warm butterbeer, and hot chocolate, and a selection of baked goods that Garrick had been trying to sneak of taste of all day.

"Ready, lad?" Garrick asked as Harry shuffled his bag into one hand and then reached out in interest at the little ribbon Garrick held, "We're traveling by Portkey, so make sure to hold on tight and be careful where you fall. It's your first time so don't feel bad if you end up on your bum."

Blinking, Harry Potter, was swept off of his feet to the Magical Creature Sanctuary of Greater Britain, on a bright winter morning of the 21st.

He landed on his arse.

Neville hummed silently and tunelessly as he worked through his potions homework with determination and no little frustration. It was a miracle he was doing so well in his classes, especially Potions, but Harry was a rock. He smiled fondly as his best friend came to mind. Finishing the next paragraph, he sighed in relief and pushed away.

He needed a break.

Escaping his room, and the dreaded homework behind him, he headed for his sanctuary, his greenhouse.

Stepping into the glass structure he felt the tension fall away and his back straighten. He tugged on a pair of gloves, grabbed a gardener's apron and wandered to the nearest bed and got to work. This one was one of his simpler and easier plant beds, nothing as exotic as his roses or orchids, just some Confounding Poppies, very good for potions.

Maybe he should bring some fresh cuttings to Harry and save some for Professor Snape? He knew Professor Sprout already had some.

He paused to think that thought again and snickered in disbelief at them.

Somehow, Harry had made him fond of the scariest teacher in the whole school, one he had practically fainted at learning about the first time.

Neville snickered some more.

Pruning the dead leaves off of a number of plants, he moved them to the compost, mixing them in readily. He then turned to Harry's present and felt a small fond smile appear on his face.

He touched the present's clay pot and almost missed Hedwig rapping politely on the glass door. He hurried over and was surprised to find her carrying a small basket and a letter.

He accepted it, and fetched the beautiful white owl some water and a few mice he'd killed when they'd tried to sneak into his greenhouse saved for such an occasion. The owl barked its thanks and fluttered to a comfortable spot before eating and drinking her head going under her wing to sleep moments later.

Neville just smiled fondly at her.

He opened the letter first and felt the smile bloom into a wide grin.

Hey Nev, he read.

It's Harry if you haven't guessed yet. I hope you've had a fine time so far with your holiday, it only being two days so far, but mine have been eventful! Master Garrick is spritely for a man of eighty-seven and is very interesting to work with. Since starting with him I've learned Magical Sensitivity, or in my case Magical Touch, and its rather interesting, not that I didn't want to puke a few times after getting it awakened. I nearly threw up in the wood store and did twice at the Apothecary, very embarrassing that.

Neville chuckled.

But that's not what I wanted to tell you. I wanted to tell you that a very special and very rare event has happened recently.

A very rare, and very special, winged black unicorn has passed away. It's a miraculous being, I'm told, and I'm very sad to say I'll never see it alive since it was one of the few rare ones in the world to ever be on a reservation maintained by Wizards (there's a lot of them hidden by centuars and goblins apparently, isn't that neat?). Master Garrick and I are seizing the opportunity though. Mr. Ollivander and I are going to be the only ones allowed to remove anything from the unicorn and to collect some of the new colts' mane and tail hairs. Not pluck, of course, but pick off of the trees and bushes they bump against.

Very useful stuff and very needed for enchantments and protections and wands!

Master Garrick says I'll even be able to keep some of it personally to start my own special collection. Also since it's a special reserve I'll be able to find a lot of magical plants, so I'll try to see if I can't pick something rare up for you, perhaps some seeds or a cutting, I'll try my best!

Hoping to see you soon! I can't wait until the 23rd!

Your best friend,

Harry.

Neville let out a low whistle and then noticed the post script.

PS – I cook for the teacher and I, so I sent a sample for you and your grandmother to share if you want. You said you liked chocolate muffins right and she was fond of blueberry scones, correct? Hope you like them!

Neville smiled and then grinned once again when he took a heavy sniff at the backed confections.

He wondered if his grandmother would be upset if he didn't share the treats, they looked so good after all.

Harry grumbled about the bad landing for about three seconds before gapping at the beautiful field they'd appeared in. However, the glimmer of silvery white attracted his attention and his magic reacted readily and he felt a pulse of sweetness, kindness, and purity brush against him like untouched snow, spun sugar, and sunlight on a bright clear spring day.

"Master Garrick," Harry whispered pointing out the strand. The man blinked and smiled brightly when he realized what Harry was pointing out.

"Good eye," Garrick said congratulating him, "That's unicorn hair alright, take one of the spools and collect it lad, it's yours. Fill your spools, lad." Harry nodded and drew out one of the purified silver spools and carefully caught and collected it. He slowly followed the lines of magical hair and amazingly within an hour he had it filled. He carefully switched out for a new start and kept collecting.

That's when he found the downed black unicorn.

His heart broke and cried.

"Master Garrick," Harry whispered, his voice shaking. The man was luckily close by and hurried to his side and his own eyes grew grave and sad at the down figure.

"Aye, that be him lad," Garrick said just as softly. "Come, it's time to make our respects."

Harry nodded and followed.

The unicorn was magnificent and Harry felt his magic crying inside of him sadly as he knelt next to its head. Long black wings of gorgeous glossy feathers fluttered in the breeze as it folded against its sides. It looked like it could be asleep except for the lack of a rising chest and sleeping movements.

Garrick slowly chanted something as it touched the animal's face with one hand and its torso over where its heart may be with his other. Harry bowed his head and offered his own prayers silently. Soon Garrick finished and sighed sadly.

"Magnificent creatures, average creatures," He said, "All have their place in this world, we shall return him after we have taken from him with respect."

Harry nodded.

"You may take three pieces of his mane, three feathers, and three pieces of his tail hairs," Garrick told Harry, "Make sure your magic agrees with the ones you take though."

Harry nodded, remembering the wand maker's teachings. His magic would choose or rather know the ones magic would allow for him to take and use. Reaching into his magic he pooled it kindly and respectfully over the magnificent specimen. The unicorn glowed and he slowly felt for the strongest effects. His hand hovered over the mane and he carefully removed the first three pieces and put them into the pure and white silk bag he'd brought for this purpose before moving to the wings. He gently touched this time. Not growing bolder, but instinctively knowing what was needed. He left with three long glossy feathers and put them into another silk bag. He kindly stroked the magnificent creature and then took the last trio of hairs. He then bowed and let his master go next.

Garrick, nodded, acknowledging his student's polite and humble moves. He repeated what the boy did earlier, knowing that he had taken what felt right to him just as Garrick took what looked best. He put their treasures in a special bag and they both offered another prayer before moving away.

Harry's last glance back left him with the image of a truly magnificent creature, and for a split second he swore he saw it standing powerful and tall, ready to leap into the sky as it reared onto its back legs.

Harry was quiet the rest of the time they were there. He collected several items though. Surprisingly, though it was perhaps because he was a virgin, the unicorns approached him.

He smiled softly at them and stroked their flanks, necks and heads, marveling in their purity and innocence. A few even deigned to lay next to him with their heads in his lap to allow him to brush loose hairs from their manes to collect.

The most remarkable of all, however, was when the lead mare of the herd approached him and tilted her head to the side.

"What is it?" Harry asked gently, his hands moving over her face and neck softly, gently.

Garrick smiled in amazement.

"She's offering you here tears," Garrick said, "Pull out one of your vials and take them. Thank her for them too."

Harry nodded, and did so, brushing her silvery-gold mane in thanks and appreciation.

The vial, a small one, had to be replaced twice as she filled each ten millimeter with her silvery pure tears. The herd left after that, their golden colts within their ranks. The two wizards watching on in amazement as they simply vanished into the forest.

"That was amazing," Harry whispered. His master's lips quirked.

"Like the job, ah?" He asked and Harry just nodded dumbly.

"Keep feeling that way. Keep feeling that way."

The twenty-third came and Neville almost dragged his Gran after him as they made their way through the packed Alley. Seeing Ollivanders he brightened.

"I'm here," Neville said happily as he entered, and Ollivander glanced up from his spot on his stool with a smile.

"Ah, Mr. Longbottom, I was wondering when I'd see you," the wand maker said kindly, "Your father and mother came for their wands from here, a unicorn hair for Alice and a dragon heartstring for Frank." Neville felt his Gran stiffen ever so slightly beside him and felt sad over the reminder of his parents.

"I'll call my apprentice," Ollivander said. "Harry!"

Harry melted out of the back carrying a thick tome and looking dust covered. His green eyes glittered warmly and he set the book down on the counter.

"Hello there Neville, here for your wand?" He asked.

"Hullo Harry," Neville replied, "And yes, I'm here for my wand."

Harry's smile widened.

"Let's get started then."

A/N:

R&R