"Oh, finally they arrived. We were just talking about you!" said Henry.
"Me?" asked Fleamont, puzzled as he pointed his finger at himself.
"Not about you, about James!" said Henry indignantly for some reason, as he grabbed James' arm and made him take, a step forward. Standing in front of Mrs. Longbottom and the boy, who was looking at him a little more interested than before.
"Look Augusta. This is my grandson, a genius," presented Henry to James as if he was some sort of trophy. Like his father, James had a puzzled expression.
He knew the Longbottom Family. The surname of a family of pureblood wizards and one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, unlike the Potters, they were not excluded.
"Oh, so you're James Potter," said the middle-aged woman named Augusta, as she examined James.
"Frank, step forward," added Augusta, who didn't give James time to introduce himself.
The boy, named Frank, with an uncomfortable face, stepped forward and looked at James, "Hello..." he said uncomfortably.
"Hi..." said James, who felt a similar discomfort as Frank. His first impression of Frank wasn't bad. He didn't have the typical arrogant face you would expect from a pureblood family belonging to the Holy Twenty-Eight.
"Hey Dad, what are you two doing...?" asked Fleamont, trying to help the two boys.
"We were just talking about James and Frank's talents, although the Longbottom boy is talented, I don't think he's on par with James," said Henry.
James hearing this made him more uncomfortable, as he had Frank in front of him.
"I can see that your grandson has talent, but he can't surpass my son. His magic awakened at a very young age," said Augusta, who had no plans to take a step back.
Frank hearing these words from his mother raised his eyes to the sky in a gesture of exasperation. Then he looked at James with a slight smile.
James immediately understood Frank's gesture and also smiled slightly. It seems that they are arguing about the talent of both of them, and for both of them, it is uncomfortable.
"Calm down, James may end up in Gryffindor, and they will be mates. I expect you to look after my son in his first year, Frank," said Euphemia, calming the waters.
"Of course, Mrs. Potter," said Frank in a serious tone.
Augusta looked at her son, satisfied with his behavior, "Well, Henry let's put the discussion aside. They won't be able to compete anyway, because they are from different years," said Mrs. Longbottom.
"Are you in Gryffindor?" asked James, interested in the subject.
"Yes, the selection ceremony made me very nervous! Luckily, I ended up in Gryffindor, although I wouldn't have minded ending up in Hufflepuff either," replied Frank.
"That's good, I hope to be in Gryffindor too... if they put me in Slytherin, I don't know what I'll do..." said James nervously about this topic, his parents and grandfather chatting with Augusta, leaving the two boys to talk quietly.
"Don't be nervous, they say that if you don't like a house very much they won't put you in it, I think..." said Frank, not so sure.
"I don't think I'll put you in Slytherin anyway, those damned pureblood supremacists," Frank added saying in a very low tone "damned" so his mother wouldn't hear him say a swear word.
Frank knew that the Potter Family didn't have the pureblood supremacist ideals, so he concluded that James wouldn't either.
"Yes, they are very extreme. I hope I don't end up with them" said James in a somewhat depressed tone.
Coming from a wizarding family, he knows that at the sorting ceremony, it is up to a talking hat, which will decide which house he will be left in for the next 7 years. Bad news, since it is not up to him.
According to his parents, students who end up in Gryffindor are known for their courage, bravery, and valor. Ravenclaw students are known for their intelligence, wit, and wisdom. Hufflepuff students are known for their loyalty, patience, and hard work. And those of Slytherin for their ambition, leadership, and cunning.
James didn't care about this. He just wanted to be in Gryffindor to follow in his parent's footsteps. He believed that all people can have various characteristics of each house.
The ultimate problem with Slytherin House was that it had a well-known reputation for creating witches and dark wizards, this was one of the reasons James didn't want to end up in this house. There were sure to be many future followers of his nemesis Voldemort, and he didn't want to live with them and their supremacist ideals for 7 years.
"You'll be fine. The moment you have the hat on your head, wish with all your might not to be left in Slytherin," Frank said with a slight smile as he patted James' shoulder.
"It will be my ace up my sleeve," said James with a slight smile.
"Frank, come on. We must buy the regulation grade 2 spell book!" said Augusta, who was already walking in the direction of the store.
"Well, bye. Nice to meet you, James. Now I'll have to endure 1 hour of my mother talking about how good I am to the store owner," said Frank mocking himself, as he said goodbye to James.
"Good luck," said James, feeling a little sorry for Frank. Mrs. Longbottom was very proud of her son and seemed to be wanting to tell every person that crossed her path.
Luckily, his mother or father weren't like that with everyone. If they were he wouldn't know where to hide. James was glad he knew Frank and knew that not all pureblood families were like the Shafiq's among others.
"Let's go inside. We've wasted too much time already," said Fleamont, heading for the door of the wand store.
The store was narrow and shabby-looking. Above the door, in gold lettering, it read: Ollivander: Maker of Excellent Wands since 382 B.C. In the dusty window, on a faded purple cushion was a single wand.
As they entered, a bell rang in the back of the store. It was a small and empty place, except for a flimsy chair. James on seeing the appearance of the shop was a little disappointed. He was well aware of the reputation of Ollivander Wands, and he thought it would be much more luxurious and not so dingy.
The Ollivander Family was widely recognized for being the best wand makers in Britain. However, their premises left a lot to be desired, 'It all depends on the product, if it's good, it doesn't matter that the premises are poor,' thought James.
Thousands of narrow boxes were stacked neatly to the ceiling, covered in dust and stony silence. His parents waited patiently. They had been through this before.
"Morning," said a soft voice.
James jumped and stopped staring at the poor premises. An old man stood before them; his large, pale eyes shone like moons in the gloom of the shop.
"Hello," James said quickly.
"Hello, Mr. Ollivander," greeted Euphemia and Fleamont.
"Hi, old man," said Henry with more confidence. He seemed to know Ollivander much better.
"Oh, the Potter Family. Long time since I've seen one around here. Long time no see, old friend," Ollivander said, then looked at James curiously. He knew that today's wand would be for the boy who would be starting Hogwarts.
Mr. Ollivander approached James. His eyes did not blink, something that made the boy uncomfortable, and it was difficult for something like this to happen to him, although today was the second time this had happened.
"I remember your parents as one of my first customers. Do they still have their wands?" asked Ollivander, looking at Mr. and Mrs. Potter.
"Of course they do," they both said as they showed their wands.
"Well done, they have taken good care of them," nodded Ollivander. In Henry's case he didn't get his wand from Ollivander himself. He got it from Ollivander's father.
"Well, now, boy... let me see..." he took out of his pocket a tape measure, with silver markings, "What is your wand arm?" he asked.
"I'm left-handed..." replied James, trying to sound normal.
"Extend your arm. That's it," he measured James from shoulder to finger, then from wrist to elbow, from shoulder to floor, from knee to armpit, and around his head.
As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a central core of a powerful magical substance. We use unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, and dragon heart fibers. No two Ollivander wands are alike, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are alike. And of course, you'll never get as good results with another wizard's wand."
Hearing the last James, smiled inwardly. His magic would be much improved when he got his wand to match it. He noticed that the tape measure, now measuring him between his nostrils, was doing it on its own. Ollivander was flitting among the shelves, pulling out boxes.
"This is done," he said, and the tape measure rolled on the floor, "So, boy. Try this one. Poplar wood and phoenix feather. Sixteen and a quarter inches. Springy. Take it and shake it."
James took the wand and waved it around, but before it could have any effect, Mr. Ollivander took it from him in a matter of seconds.
"Maple and unicorn hair. 20 twenty centimeters. Very springy. Try..."
James again tried, but as soon as he raised his arm, Ollivander took it from him.
"No, no... Here, hazel and dragon heartstring, twenty-six centimeters. Elastic. Come on, come on, try it," he said again, his voice sounding more and more excited.
James tried it. He knew nothing about wands, therefore, neither did he know what Ollivander was looking for. The pile of tested wands was getting higher and higher on the chair. For every extra wand, Ollivander brought out the more excited the old man got.
His parents and grandfather also watched curiously, waiting for what would be James' final wand. They remembered that in their time they did not take so long.
"A difficult client hasn't happened to me in a long time. Don't worry, we'll find the perfect wand around here somewhere... It should be an unusual wood and a strange combination. I would say: Acacia and dragon's heartstring, thirty-three centimeters, uncompromising." Ollivander said as he pulled a wand out of a powdered box.
James touched the wand and instantly felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He had never felt anything like this with all the wands he had tried so far, not even with his grandmother's wand, and he had used it for 3 years.
He raised the wand over his head and brought it whistling down through the dusty air, a stream of blue and gold sparks burst from the tip like fireworks. Euphemia, Fleamont, and Henry cheered and applauded.
Mr. Ollivander said:
"Bravo! Oh, yes, very good. Good... Curious, very curious."
He took the wand out of James' hand and put it in its box, wrapped it in wooden paper, and kept muttering the same thing.
"What's curious?" asked James, who wanted to know the history of his new companion, if only a little.
Mr. Ollivander fixed James with his pale gaze, "Acacia wood is very, very unusual. They often refuse to produce magic for anyone but their rightful owner, they also restrict their best effects to all but the most talented wizards and witches. This sensitivity makes them very difficult to locate, so I only have a small supply. The curious thing is their combination with the dragon heartstring," he said as he stared at James, examining him, trying to see what the wand saw in him.
"What's the big deal about it having a dragon heartstring?" asked James, feeling flattered.
"Generally, dragon heartstrings produce a very extravagant magical power and it's temperamental. Very different from the subtle temperament of acacia. That combination will make it difficult to control or so I think... good luck," said Ollivander patting James' shoulder, who was looking at him with an incredulous expression.
If the old man knew that, why would he combine two elements that were not compatible with each other? Now he wasn't so sure he wanted that wand, but he couldn't say. Besides he doubted the old man would let him try another wand.
"Don't make that face, boy. If you can control it you'll match anyone in power or better... you'll surpass them. Besides, it will be a wand inseparable from you. I think we should expect great things from you, James Potter," Ollivander said as if it wasn't a big deal.
James rolled his eyes. His parents paid seven gold galleons for his wand, and Mr. Ollivander escorted them to the door of his store.