Harry Potter and the Time Fluke

Ollivanders

"We'll never take our business there again," Tom informed Harry when they were back on the street. "That woman was very rude and I think she overcharged us. Plus, these might be newer and of a higher quality, but the secondhand robe shop doesn't have know-it-all attendants."

"She wasn't that bad," Harry defended, but he was silenced with a single withering look from Tom.

"You might not need books, but I do," Tom noted, changing the topic. "And there might be something there you'll want to get to read for fun. Come. The store is further down, near Ollivanders wand shop."

They pushed through the oncoming mass of people crowded into the narrow Alley in silence and with moderate difficulty. Harry became separated from Tom many times and had to dash around slow-moving or completely stationary people to catch up again. He almost crashed into Tom's back when the older boy came to a full halt in front of the wand-maker's shop.

"This isn't going to work," he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and squeezing his eyes shut in annoyance. "I had hoped to show you around the Alley, but that was squashed with the amount of people who decided to come out today. Our visit here will take much too long and we won't be able to make it back before curfew if we try to shop together; we need different sets of things..."

"We could split up and meet up later," Harry suggested, knowing Tom's rational mind would see the suggestion as the best course of action.

"I suppose we must..." The expression on Tom's face made him look as though he's swallowed pure lemon juice and Harry knew he wasn't happy about how their day was turning out. "We'll meet back inside The Leaky Cauldron at, say, four? Don't splurge too much, though I know it's awfully tempting. There are much better things we'll be able to get later if we're resourceful, remember that."

"I know Tom," Harry replied dully, rolling his eyes. "You tell me that anytime we get our hands on money."

"Because it's an important tip you should remember and live by." Harry watched Tom scan the crowd and noticed a hint of worry hiding behind the annoyance. "Are you sure you'll be okay on your own?"

Harry reached out and gripped Tom's sleeve, causing the other boy to face him. Smiling the adorable smile he'd learned could get him anything he wanted from just about anyone, he said, "Don't worry about me, Tom. I survived a year without you, a few hours alone shouldn't kill me."

Tom turned pink and mumbled something about the difference between the wizarding world and the muggle one before sending his own small smile Harry's way.

"Alright, but if you haven't shown up by the meeting time, I won't be letting you out on your own again until you've started growing facial hair."

"Always over-dramatizing everything is not an appealing attribute to boast, Tom. But I promise I won't be late," Harry hurriedly assured as Tom's eyes narrowed. "I think you should go buy your books now, and I'll get my wand. The more time we waste standing here, the less time we have to battle our way through the crowd." He let go of Tom's clothing and stepped into the wand shop, momentarily forgetting that he didn't actually need one.

"My, you're out of place aren't you, Mr. Potter?"

Harry jumped and spun around, eyes wide with shock. Not only had he not heard the wand-maker enter the storefront, but he had also addressed him by a name Harry hadn't heard in years. One Ollivander shouldn't know.

"How do you–?"

"I know a great many things, Mr. Potter," Ollivander explained with a mysterious smile. "Not much can fool these eyes of mine, old they may be. However, they can still tell that you are neither from this time, nor are you in your true form."

"But that still doesn't account for your knowledge of my name," Harry stressed. "My surname that no one in this time should know. It also doesn't explain how you recognized me as me when our first meeting is fifty years from now."

"Everyone has a magic about them; an identifying magic, you could call it. My eyes show me that you are much older than you appear, but it's the magic surrounding you that reveals who you are. Although," Ollivander frowned, "your magic is mixed–polluted, somehow."

"But how do you know I'm not from this... time?"

"I told you; everything is revealed in the magic surrounding your body."

"But you told me it's the wand that chooses the wizard."

"And a wand cannot work with the wizard if it does not mesh well with his magic," Ollivander dismissed. "Now, I do believe we should find you yours."

"Oh, no thanks," Harry said, shaking is head. "I already have a wand–"

"But that wand is from the future," Ollivander countered, ignoring Harry's protest. "Don't bother coming up with any excuses while I'm gone, and don't wander off or I might have to let slip to the headmaster of Hogwarts that one of his new pupils doesn't belong."

Stunned that he had just been threatened by a man who had always seemed so kind, Harry stayed exactly where Ollivander left him until the man returned with an armful of wand boxes.

"Ah, I'm so glad you stayed, Mr. Potter."

"Evans," Harry corrected, stepping up to the counter. If Ollivander wanted to go through every wand in the store until he was satisfied that none would suit Harry, the least he could do was humor the old man. "My name now is Harry Evans."

"Mmm, yes. It would most certainly cause a fair number of problems for you if it were to be known that you hold a place in the Potter family. There aren't many left now, and your sudden appearance in the world would kick up quite a fuss. Here." He held a wand out for Harry. "Apple, ten inches, unicorn hair."

Harry's fingertips brushed over the extended wand handle, but it was yanked back before he had a chance to do anything with it.

"No, no. This won't do. None of these will do. It seems you'll need one of the more rare wands. How delightful!" Harry was slightly disturbed by the strange way Ollivander's eyes began sparkling. "I haven't had to give one of those away in a decade–but then, I should have known from the beginning you'd require a more powerful wand. It takes a great deal of power and magic to be able to travel so far backwards in time and change your outward looks."

"It was an accident," Harry quickly corrected. "I didn't mean for this to happen at all."

"But, as a result of your magic, it did. Magic works in strange ways, Mr. Evans, and the fact that you didn't mean for the magic to do to you what it ended up doing only proves how powerful you truly are," Ollivander stated, seriously. "And that power would best be controlled by a wand of equal capacity." He shuffled back into the labyrinth of towering wand shelves and left Harry to ponder his words.

"I don't understand," Harry concluded when Ollivander came out again with more, dustier boxes. "Why didn't a more powerful wand choose me before? I mean, you told me the world could expect great things from me when I got my old wand, but you never said anything about power..."

"Time passes and people change, their magic along with them. You're obviously different now then you were when you were younger. The experiences you've had, the trials you've faced, little, big, memorable, or easily forgotten, all these things can change a person and you seem to have changed too," Ollivander expressed knowingly. "Black walnut, ten-and-a-quarter inches, hippogriff feather."
The second his fingers curled around the light brown handle, a heated pulse shot up Harry's arm, leaving the appendage tingling. The small hairs all over his body stood on end, electrified by the magic that seemed to be surging out of his very pores in greater amounts than ever before. A breeze, impossible to have been in existence, swirled around him, fluttering his hair away from his face.

"It seems this wand chose it's wizard."