"Step aside? Sure, could you tell me who you are?" Jack always believed he had an astonishing talent for perception, like now, he felt the boy before him would be extraordinary in the future.
Madam Malkin was still measuring Malfoy, while Mrs. Ludwig was endlessly complaining about the eternal Hogwarts robe designs.
"My dear, why doesn't Dumbledore ever change the style? I mean, even a change of color would be nice."
Madam Malkin was a kind-hearted witch, her voice always carrying a warmth as if one were basked in spring sunshine.
"Another color? He probably thinks black is more profound."
Seeing no way past the taller Jack, Harry spoke softly, "I'm Harry, Harry Potter."
If it were someone else, even the proud Malfoy would surely have let out a surprised gasp upon hearing the name.
Others might have curiously inspected his forehead to see if there was the legendary lightning bolt scar.
"Oh, Harry, I see. Go on in," Jack stepped aside, honoring his word.
Harry was somewhat surprised; this was the first person since he became a wizard that didn't react dramatically to his name – a bit of a disappointment, truth be told.
As Harry went in, Draco was just coming out. Brushing shoulders, they exchanged a glance due to some magical sensation.
Draco confirmed he didn't know this thin boy and walked away head held high.
"We're off to a great place next, I'm sure you'll both love it. When I was a girl and learned my father was taking me to buy a wand, I was so excited I couldn't sleep a wink," Mrs. Ludwig couldn't help becoming animated at the memory.
And Jack said nonchalantly, "Oh, Mother, I never imagined you as such a naive, cheerful child."
"Look who's talking – I am still very naïve. Jack, I think you've lost some of your charm from before, haven't you, Draco?"
Draco nodded hastily, though in his mind he thought Jack had never been cute!
Ollivanders, also the sole wand shop in Diagon Alley.
This small shop was old and tattered, littered with myriad wands, with its gold-lettered sign hanging half-off, reading: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
The shop was bare but for a single long bench.
Mrs. Ludwig motioned for Jack and Draco to step forward.
Jack looked curiously at the thousands of wand boxes piled up, fascinated by everything.
Honestly, the excitement in Jack's heart might not have been less than Mrs. Ludwig's when she was young. He was keen to discover what wands in this world would be like.
A short, elderly man appeared before them, his eyes as bright as crescent moons.
"Oh, Draco Malfoy, right? You're the spitting image of your father, handsome. Lucius' wand was one of my proud creations: elm with a dragon heartstring, very powerful for casting spells."
Mr. Ollivander turned to Mrs. Ludwig, excitedly exclaiming, "Look who has come! Daphne, I've always said that German wands are no match for mine. Cherry wood, 11 inches long, nice and comfy, right? The core's phoenix feather, correct? Particularly good against defensive spells."
Jack, seeing this chatty old man, was reminded of an old friend, a somewhat disreputable friend.
A thief, different than his peers, who was adept at flattery, much like this man before him.
When Mr. Ollivander spotted Jack, he grinned broadly. "How could I forget you? Young Master Ludwig. I've never seen you before, but you have your father's deep, captivating eyes."
"Alright, gentlemen, let me measure your arms," Mr. Ollivander pulled out a tape measure from his pocket. "Which arm do you prefer to use?"
"Left hand."
"Right hand!"
Jack was left-handed, always had been, something the Church had strongly noted against him.
Cursed be the notion that left-handedness is the mark of the devil!
"Oh, left-handed, that's quite rare, but not nonexistent. Let me see... Try this wand?" Ollivander selected one from a box and handed it to Jack. "This one is made from peach wood, twelve and a half inches, dragon heartstring. It's very sturdy. Give it a wave?"
The moment Jack took the wand, his body rejected it; this wasn't the one for him.
And to try each one by one – how long would that take?
Mr. Ollivander quickly snatched the wand back, seeking another for Jack. "Not suitable, maybe you should try this one..."
"No, I mean I feel that the first one is better for me." Magic is strange and Jack felt the wand he pointed at was calling his name.
Although it was the first time someone had cut him off, the affable Mr. Ollivander obliged. "Young man, it's good to have a strong opinion. Still, at times you need to trust the expert's eye. Regardless, try it first," Mr. Ollivander thought Jack was just being impulsive like any youth.
"This is... huh, why do I not recall this wand?" Mr. Ollivander was puzzled as he pulled out a pure white wand from the box.
Jack snatched the wand, and as his hand clasped it, that instinctual, natural reaction occurred again.
This was his wand.
He swung it experimentally and a gust of wind blew both Mr. Ollivander and Draco to the floor in front of him.
"Merlin's beard! What a moment of wonder!" Mr. Ollivander, getting back up off the floor, couldn't contain his glee, his eyes alight with fervor. "I always say, it's the wand that chooses the wizard!"
"I believe, this might be birch? Eleven inches, flexible, sturdy, probably some creature's heartstring, I can't seem to identify." Mr. Ollivander studied Jack's new wand intently, seemingly unwilling to let it go until he discerned its materials.
Jack had to say lazily, "I think Mr. Malfoy is getting impatient."
With that, Mr. Ollivander let go of the wand, somewhat reluctantly, and started choosing a wand for Draco.
In the end, both left with the wands they favored.
"That will be 15 Galleons, madam," Mr. Ollivander concluded with a satisfied smile.