Sirius and Harry made their way through the bustling streets of Diagon Alley. True to his word, Sirius was determined to spoil his godson, and he made no effort to hide it.
The spree began with clothes and quickly spiraled into Sirius purchasing anything Harry glanced at for more than a second. At Madam Malkin's Sirius bought an entire wardrobe of casual wear even when Harry told him he didn't need to since his wardrobe was already full. After the casual wear, Sirius proceeded to buy an entire wardrobe of formal and fancy attires, leaving Harry doubting his decision to come to Diagon Alley with Sirius.
Harry's attempts to protest were met with Sirius's playful grin. "Come on, Harry, you deserve it! Let me do this for you."
By the time they had exited the shop, Madam Malkin's face was practically glowing, after all Sirius managed to spend 1000 galleons in there, buying clothes for Harry, Abigail and himself. The purchase was to be sent directly to Dursley Mansion later.
After Madam Malkin's, Sirius bought Harry some of every supply of potion ingredients they had in the shop along with a few more cauldrons from the Cauldron Shop. Next, they went to Sugarplum's Sweet Shop, where Sirius bought a few of every single sweet and treat they had in stock, pacing large bags for both Abigail and Harry. The shopkeeper stared in disbelief as Sirius put his order in. Harry couldn't help but grin at the thought of Abigail's delighted reaction.
They then visited Amanuensis Quills, where Sirius insisted on getting Harry the best quality quills and parchments. As they browsed, Harry couldn't stop himself from thinking, Wouldn't it be so much easier if they used notebooks like in the Muggle world instead of parchments? Sirius noticed Harry's distant expression and took the chance to add several ornate quills to the pile.
Next Sirius dragged him into Gambol and Japes Wizarding Shop. Despite his earlier resolve, Harry was genuinely eager to get his hands on some joke items, especially to compete with Fred and George. Sirius matched his enthusiasm, picking out prank kits and enchanted items, laughing as he recalled his own escapades at Hogwarts.
Their spree nearly culminated in Sirius trying to buy Harry a Nimbus 2000 broomstick. "But it's the best broom for a young Seeker!" Sirius argued, holding the gleaming broom in his hands.
Harry, alarmed, quickly dragged him away from the display. "First years aren't allowed brooms, Sirius! I won't even be able to use it."
Sirius pouted theatrically but relented, placing the broom back with a wistful look. "Fine, fine. But the moment you're allowed, Harry, I'm getting you the fastest one available."
Harry could only shake his head. By the time they reached Ollivanders, Harry was tired of shopping. Sirius turned to Harry with curiosity, "Have you got your own wand?"
Harry shook his head. "Well, I don't feel the need for one since I can already do all my magic wandlessly and I have never tried a wand."
Sirius raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Harry, you might not need a wand, but it doesn't hurt to see what the experience is like. Magic's got a funny way of working with wands. Besides," he added with a smirk, "what kind of wizard skips Ollivanders?"
Harry gave a reluctant nod. "Alright, let's check it out. But don't blame me if this turns out to be a waste of time."
Sirius grinned triumphantly, pushing the door open. "Oh, trust me, it won't be."
As they stepped inside, a tinkling bell rang somewhere in the shop. The place was dimly lit, with stacks of narrow boxes piled high to the ceiling. A single spindly chair sat in one corner, and Sirius immediately claimed it lounging comfortably as Harry surveyed the shop.
There was almost still magical stillness in the air, making Harry feel like he'd entered a strict library rather than a wand shop. He instinctively spread his magic senses across the room but felt no one else there. The place seemed… empty.
"Good afternoon," said a soft voice, breaking the silence. Harry jumped slightly, his eyes snapping to the source of the sound. An old man appeared out of nowhere, his wide, pale eyes gleaming like moons in the gloom.
Harry's brows furrowed in surprise. He hadn't sensed the man's presence at all, and that realization unnerved him.
"Uh… Hello?" Harry replied cautiously.
"Ah, yes," said the man, a faint smile on his lips. "Yes, yes. I was almost afraid I wouldn't be seeing you, Mr. Potter."
Harry's curiosity deepened. "You know me?"
"Of course," the old man said, stepping closer and peering at him intently. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. A fine wand for charm work."
"Uh…that was more than twenty years ago I think… and you are telling me you remember that?" Harry asked in disbelief.
Ollivander smiled, "I remember every wand I have ever sold, Mr. Potter."
"For example, your father," he continued, "his was mahogany. Eleven inches. Pliable, excellent for transfiguration. A fine match." He paused, leaning in slightly, "Of course, it's not so much the wizard choosing the wand as it is the wand choosing the wizard."
Harry's brows knitted, a mix of curiosity and skepticism crossing his face. "So, you're saying they have… a will of their own?"
"Precisely," Ollivander replied, his voice tingled with pride. "A wand knows its master, sometimes before the wizard knows himself."
Harry couldn't help but think, "Fascinating… really fascinating," he admitted. The idea of the wands having a degree of sentience was strange, yet something that made a lot of sense in a way. He'd got wandless magic down so he had never thought to question how wands truly worked.
Ollivander's eyes glimmered with interest, his thin frame leaning slightly closer. "Ah, I thought you might appreciate that, Mr. Potter. After all from what I can see… you magic… well it's extraordinary, even unrefined as it may seem to you."
Harry's expression flickered with subtle amusement. He wasn't surprised by the comment, but the man's insight was unsettling. Ollivander could see more than most people.
Sirius, who had been observing the exchange quietly, suddenly sat forward in his chair. "Extraordinary, you say?" His voice betrayed a mix of pride and caution. "What makes you say that?"
Ollivander turned to Sirius with a knowing smile. "Ah, Sirius Black. Ebony, fifteen inches, pliant. Manticore heart core, if I recall?"
Sirius blinked in surprise. "You remember my wand?"
Ollivander chuckled, "Of course, Mr. Black. I remember every wand I've ever sold. But more on that in a moment." He turned back to Harry, his expression thoughtful. "As for you, Mr. Potter… I suspect you already know what I see. Your raw power for magic is something that I have never encountered ever before. Even Dumbledore pales in comparison."
Sirius nearly fell out of his chair. "Dumbledore—what?!"
Harry, on the other hand, merely raised an eyebrow. "You must have magical eyes, Mr. Ollivander," he said coolly, his smirk betraying nothing.
"But of course, Mr. Potter," Ollivander replied. "A wandmaker must have good eyes, as his eyes are his greatest assets after all."
Mr. Ollivander's intense gaze never wavered as he looked at Harry, his expression unreadable. Then, with a soft exhale, he stepped back, clasping his hands together as if steadying himself for the words he was about to say.
"Mr. Potter," he began slowly, his voice carrying an unusual weight. "I must confess something I have never said to any wizard or witch who has walked into my shop. There is no wand here for you."
Harry blinked, certain that he had misheard. Sirius leapt out of his chair, looking equally perplexed.
"No wand?" Sirius echoed. "Surely you can't mean that, Mr. Ollivander. You must have something suitable. Perhaps it's a unique combination—"
Ollivander held up a hand to silence him, his pale, misty eyes fixed on Harry.
"It is not a matter of combinations, Mr. Black. Nor is it a question of suitability," he said softly. "It is the simple truth that every wand in this shop—indeed, every wand I have ever made—feels unworthy of serving Mr. Potter."
Harry didn't understand, "Unworthy?"
"Yes," Ollivander said, nodding gravely. "You see, wands are not mere tools. They are proud and discerning entities in their own right. Each has its own character, its own strength and quirks. But there is one thing they all share—an innate desire to enhance their master's magic. For you, however…" He paused, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. "For you, they fear they would not enhance but hinder. That they would only dull the brilliance of your power."
Sirius sat back, his mouth slightly open, as if grappling with what he had just heard. Harry frowned, his mind racing.
"You're saying… no wand here will choose me?"
"Not here, not anywhere," Ollivander admitted. "No wandmaker alive possesses the skill to craft a wand suitable for you. Your magic transcends the capabilities of any wand I—or any of my peers—could create. It is as though magic itself respects you too much to allow anything less than perfection to be placed in your hands."
"That doesn't make sense," Sirius said, shaking his head in disbelief. "Surely there's something you can do? Some ancient wood, a rare core—anything?"
Ollivander sighed, his gaze still on Harry. "Mr. Black, if there were even the slightest possibility, I would have seized it. But I must admit my own limitations. This is not about a lack of effort or materials. It is the natural order itself declaring that no man-made wand is sufficient."
Harry tilted his head, curiosity mingling with unease. "Then what am I supposed to do?"
"Fear not, Mr. Potter. Nature itself has taken upon this monumental task of getting you a wand." Ollivander continued. "And by a wand, I mean the only wand in existence that can truly serve you. No other will suffice, and no one else will ever be able to wield it. Any attempt to do so would be fatal."
The room fell silent as Sirius processed what he just heard. Ollivander, hailed as the greatest wandmaker of all time, had confessed that he was not skilled enough to create a wand for Harry. His godson, who had not yet even set foot in Hogwarts, was already so far beyond the reach of ordinary magic? Sirius swallowed hard, unsure whether to feel pride or be scared. This revelation painted Harry's potential in an almost frightening light.
Harry, on the other hand, was more intrigued than anything else. Ollivander's mention of nature crafting wands stirred a deep curiosity within him. Did wandmakers communicate with nature in some way? What role did nature truly play in magic? He found himself itching to ask questions, to dive into the mysteries hinted at by Ollivander's words.
As they both wrestled with their thoughts, Ollivander's piercing gaze remained fixed on Harry. His expression was a mixture of awe and fascination, as though he were studying a living anomaly. In all his years, he had never encountered anything—or anyone—like this boy.
A memory surfaced in Ollivander's mind, of a time long ago when he had handed Albus Dumbledore his first wand. He was merely 18 when he had handed Dumbledore his first wand. Even then, he had seen a glimmer of greatness in Dumbledore's eyes, sensing he would one day become the most powerful wizard of his age. Dumbledore had been a challenging customer, with a wand finally choosing him only after nearly every box in the shop had been opened. Elder wood, thestral hair core, twelve and a half inches—a formidable wand, one of the most powerful Ollivander had ever crafted.
But even Dumbledore, for all his greatness, had never commanded the kind of reverence Harry now did. This child wasn't destined for just greatness; the least impressive thing he would go would be beyond greatness; he was something entirely beyond the bounds of what the world had ever known.
Exactly five minutes later, a sudden rippled of energy filled the room, causing the air to hum with power. Before the three pairs of eyes, a wand materialized out of thin air, accompanied by an ancient-looking scroll that floated beside it. The wand radiated an otherworldly glow—unnatural yet comforting, its warmth almost tangible.
Mr. Ollivander extended his hand to take the wand and present it to Harry. But before his fingers could even graze its surface, the wand veered away, as though rejecting the touch of anyone but its intended master. It floated gracefully toward Harry, as if drawn by an invisible force.
Harry instinctively raised his hand, and the wand settled into his palm with a sense of purpose. The moment his fingers wrapped around it, a surge of energy coursed through him. His magic, dormant yet potent, roared to life in response, thrumming in harmony with the wand. It wasn't just an instrument of power—it was alive, sentient in a way Harry had never imagined.
He could feel it. The wand's joy at finding its master. Its unwavering loyalty, its eagerness to serve, all communicated without a single word. It was as if the wand had always been waiting for him. It pulsed with energy, sending out a warm, comforting wave that radiated outward.
The pulse wasn't confined to the shop. It spread far and wide, rippling across the magical and muggle worlds alike, touching every living being. For some, it was a faint warmth. For others, it was a deep sense of peace. None could explain it, but all felt it—an echo of something extraordinary.
Meanwhile, Ollivander's attention turned to the scroll, which still floated in mid-air, untouched. He took it delicately, unrolling the ancient parchment with trembling hands. His sharp eyes scanned the text, but as the meaning of the words sank in, his legs nearly gave out beneath him. His heart raced. Surely, this couldn't be real. A wand like this—no, an entity like this—was unprecedented. And for it to be bound to a child? It defied logic.
Sirius watched him intently, noting the way Ollivander's hand trembled as he gripped the scroll. His initial curiosity gave way to unease. Whatever was written on that parchment had clearly shaken the legendary wandmaker. He opened his mouth to ask, but Ollivander spoke first, his voice both reverent and steady.
"Congratulations, Mr. Potter. You are now the master of Elythral."
Harry blinked, tilting his head slightly. "Elythral?"
"Yes," Ollivander confirmed. "That is the name of your wand."
"Wands have names?" Harry asked curiously.
Ollivander nodded, his expression solemn. "Not typically, Mr. Potter. But Elythral is not a typical wand. It seems nature herself bestowed this name, and for good reason. Your wand is something that shouldn't even be in this world."
Harry glanced down at the wand in his hand, feeling it's quiet hum of approval. "What makes it so different?"
Ollivander drew a deep breath, his gaze steady. "Your wand, Elythral, was crafted from Yggdrasil heartwood—the legendary tree believed to be the source of all life. Most of us thought it a mere myth, yet here it is, proven true."
Harry's eyes widened, but before he could speak, Ollivander continued.
"The core is equally remarkable. It intertwines phoenix feather, thestral hair, and basilisk horn—each rare and powerful in its own right. Together, they create a harmony that surpasses even the most extraordinary wands. Its aura is ethereal, bolstered by ancestral runes carved into the wood, perfectly balancing light and darkness."
Sirius's jaw dropped slightly, but Ollivander pressed on, addressing Harry directly. "Elythral is sentient, Mr. Potter. It possesses a consciousness of its own and will connect with you on a level no other wand can. It will not require deliberate channeling of your magic; instead, it will draw from your energy seamlessly, responding to your thoughts rather than physical movements."
Harry stood stunned, the weight of Ollivander's words sinking in. He had assumed he'd need a wand purely for appearances, intending to avoid the clunky rituals of wand-waving. But this—this was beyond anything he'd imagined.
Just as he was about to ask something, Ollivander raised a hand, cutting off his question. "I'm not finished, Mr. Potter. Elythral possesses many additional abilities, out of which I can only understand one. It seems Nature has imbued it with the power to manipulate time itself. Though limited for now, you will be able to slow down or speed up time within a localized area."
Sirius made a strangled sound, while Harry's expression shifted from awe to almost expressionless.
"As for the rest," Ollivander continued. "I have no idea. You will have to find them out yourself. They are beyond my comprehension."
Harry nodded thoughtfully. His expression was like he had just been handed over nukes and been told to figure out what they are himself. Not that he didn't intend to figure it out.
Sirius offered a 100 galleons to Ollivander who refused saying that he couldn't take the money since he was not the creator of that wand. Just as Sirius and Harry were about to leave the shop, Ollivander called, "Ah, Mr. Potter, before I forget, I have a rather bold request for you."
Harry blinked in surprise. "What is it, Mr. Ollivander?"
The wandmaker's gaze was earnest. "When you discover the full extent of Elythral's abilities, I ask that you write to me. This wand is unlike any I've ever encountered, and understanding it better would help ensure today's events remain unique. Though I doubt I will ever see its like again."
Harry nodded solemnly. "Of course, Mr. Ollivander. I'll let you know what I learn."
With that Harry and Sirius left the shop. As the bell jingled once again, Ollivander turned back to his desk, intending to write his observations about the wand in hopes of making further progress in creating wands.
A shiver ran through Sirius. How could his godson, still just a child, wield such power? Yet, despite the fear creeping into his heart, Sirius made a silent vow. Harry was his godson, and he would ensure Harry stayed on the right path, no matter what it took.
Shaking off his unease, Sirius left Ollivander's shop and took Harry to Eeylops Owl Emporium. Harry protested at first, reluctant to let Sirius spend more money, but Sirius insisted. In the end, Harry chose the snowy owl, and chose the familiar name of Hedwig.
After finishing their shopping, Sirius couldn't help but want to go back to Ollivander to ask some questions. So he sent Harry back to Dursley Mansion ahead saying that he needed to get something for Vernon and Petunia too before he headed back. Harry, who was too distracted with the wand, simply nodded and disapparated without a sound back home with Hedwig.
Sirius turned on his heel and headed back to Ollivanders.
Ollivander looked up from the parchment he was writing on, "Mr. Black? Is there something else I can assist you with?"
Sirius hesitated, his hand gripping the edge of the counter. "Mr. Ollivander… when you spoke earlier about Harry's wand and his power… just how serious is this? Is Harry truly capable of such… things?"
Ollivander studied Sirius for a moment, then motioned toward the chair. "Sir, Sirius. This is not a matter to be discussed lightly."
Reluctantly, Sirius sat, leaning forward as Ollivander began.
"To answer your question, yes. Harry's potential is immense, far beyond anything I have seen in my lifetime. The wand, Elythral, does not merely enhance his abilities—it is an extension of him. It connects to his very essence. Such a bond is exceedingly rare, and its implications are profound."
Sirius's brows furrowed. "But he's just a child. How can he wield something so... overwhelming?"
Ollivander leaned back, his expression grave. "Don't be deceived by his appearance, Sirius. Even now, in terms of raw magical power, Harry is leagues above Dumbledore and Voldemort. A wand like Elythral can almost be called a divine object… And the fact that that is the only wand capable of serving him, should give you the idea about the depth of his powers."
"A divine object… as in something a god would use?" Sirius asked with disbelief.
Ollivander replied, "I don't know if gods exist, Sirius. I am simply putting the perspective to use here. That wand will amplify his already enormous amount of power to the next level. You can think the rest right?"
"But keep this in mind, Sirius… don't let Harry fall into the dark path." he continued with a solemn voice.
Sirius sat in silence for a long moment, the weight of Ollivander's words pressing heavily on him. Finally, he asked, "And if... if he does stray? If he does follow the same path as Voldemort?"
Ollivander's voice dropped, his tone chilling. "If that day comes, there will be no one in this world who can stop him. Even if the entire wizard kind unites together to oppose him, we would still lose one-sidedly. He would destroy the world. That is why it is imperative we ensure he never walks that path."
Sirius closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. The thought of his godson becoming a force of destruction was unbearable. "I won't let that happen. I swear it."
Ollivander nodded. "Then that is all we can do. But Sirius... tread carefully. Harry is not the Dark Lord. He is a boy, and his heart is not yet set. Treat him with love and understanding, not fear. Fear will drive him away."
Sirius stood, his resolve hardening. "Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. For everything."
As Sirius reached the door, Ollivander called after him. "Remember, Sirius, power is neither good nor evil. It is the wielder who decides its nature. Trust in Harry—but do not let your guard down."
Sirius gave a curt nod before stepping back into the bustling streets of Diagon Alley. With all these revelations his mind weighed down on him more than anything. His godson was someone, who—if walked down the dark path, could potentially destroy the world. Even now he was leagues above Dumbledore and Voldemort in terms of raw power alone.
He headed toward Leaky Cauldron to get a few drinks. Inside the shop, Ollivander turned back to his desk and began writing a letter to Dumbledore, the quill in his hand trembling slightly as he wrote.
"If Harry Potter turns to darkness, there will be no saving this world."
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After dinner, the cheerful atmosphere of the Dursley household faded as both Harry and Abigail went to bed. After making sure that both of them were asleep, Sirius took Petunia and Vernon outside to the garden, saying that he had to tell them something urgent.
As they stood near the cliff outlooking the sea, Petunia asked. "What is it, Sirius? You look... worried.."
Vernon, always more direct, crossed his arms. "What's this about, Sirius? Harry said something?"
Sirius hesitated, his gaze fixed on the horizon. "I need to tell you both about what happened today. About Harry... and his wand."
Petunia asked, "What about his wand? Is something wrong with the wand?"
Sirius shook his head. "Not wrong. But... extraordinary. It's not something that..."
Sirius told them about the incident at Ollivander's shop. By the time he had finished, Vernon looked shook to his core and Petunia was so scared that she was trembling.
"But he is just a child..." She tried to convince herself more than others.
"Leagues above Dumbledore... and Voldemort...," Vernon muttered. He was having a really tough time accepting the fact that the probably the second most powerful wizard to ever exist was his son.
"Are you telling me that sweet boy could become another Dark Lord?" Petunia snapped.
Sirius turned back to them, "No, Petunia. According to Ollivander, if Harry really started down the dark path, he wouldn't just be a dark lord, he would be someone who would destroy the world. But that's why we have to guide him."
Petunia stepped forward, her voice trembling but determined. "He's our son, Sirius. We've raised him as our own, and we love him dearly. We won't let him fall into darkness. Not ever."
Sirius nodded. "I know you do, and that's why I'm telling you this. Ollivander warned me—power itself isn't inherently good or evil. It's the wielder who decides its nature. Right now, Harry doesn't even realize the full extent of his abilities. We need to ensure he grows up surrounded by love, patience, and understanding. Fear or mistrust will only alienate him."
Vernon placed a reassuring hand on Petunia's shoulder. "Its okay Pet. We will just have to make sure that Harry doesn't fall in that path."
The three stood together in silence, the moonlight casting their shadows over the garden. The sound of the waves filled the still night air, underscoring the gravity of their conversation.