Re:HP-A New Life

I am 15 chapters ahead on my patreón, check it out if you are interested.

https://www.patréon.com/emperordragon

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Chapter twelve: The wand chooses.

The morning sun filtered through the windows of Ollivander's Wand Shop, casting long shadows over the neatly stacked boxes lining the shelves. The Potter family stepped inside, their entrance marked by the soft jingle of the bell above the door. The air inside was heavy with age and magic, and the children fell quiet as they took in their surroundings.

From the depths of the shop, Garrick Ollivander emerged, his silvery eyes alight with curiosity as they landed on the Potter twins. "Ah, the Potters," he murmured. "Harry and Rose. A day I have been anticipating for quite some time."

Rose couldn't contain her excitement, stepping forward eagerly. Harry followed at a measured pace, his expression calm but his thoughts racing. This was not his first time here, though it might as well have been.

"Ladies first," Ollivander said, smiling as he led Rose to the counter.

He began selecting wands, each one carefully handed to Rose for testing. The first wand—a sleek cherry wood with a unicorn hair core—produced no response. The second, a vibrant ash with dragon heartstring, was similarly unremarkable. Ollivander continued to search, his movements unhurried but precise, until finally, he presented a wand of willow wood with a phoenix feather core.

The moment Rose's fingers wrapped around it, the room lit up with a soft, golden glow. Sparks danced through the air, and Rose let out a delighted laugh.

"Willow wood, ten and a quarter inches, phoenix feather," Ollivander declared, his smile broad. "An excellent match for someone with a spirited heart and boundless potential."

Rose held the wand close, her excitement contagious. "It's perfect!"

Ollivander nodded, his attention shifting to Harry. The shop fell silent as Harry stepped forward.

Ollivander studied him for a moment, his gaze thoughtful. "Now, Mr. Potter, let us see what we can find for you."

He began pulling wands from the shelves, each one carefully selected. A mahogany wand was tried first but yielded no reaction. Then came ebony, maple, and yew, but none responded to Harry's touch. With each failure, Ollivander's frown deepened.

"Curious," he murmured, retreating to the back of the shop. "Very curious indeed."

The family exchanged uncertain glances. Rose nudged Harry with a teasing smile. "Maybe you're just too powerful for a wand."

Harry gave her a faint smile but said nothing, his unease growing.

When Ollivander returned, he was holding a wand unlike any other. It was dark, almost black, with intricate runes carved into its length. The room seemed to grow quieter, as though the very air was holding its breath.

"This," Ollivander began, his voice low, "is the Elder Wand. A wand of legend, made of elder wood with a core of Thestral tail hair. Thirteen inches. It is a wand of immense power, one that chooses only the most extraordinary of wizards."

Harry hesitated, a flicker of recognition sparking in his mind. Slowly, he reached out and took the wand. The moment his fingers closed around it, a surge of energy coursed through him, filling the room with a shimmering, golden light.

Ollivander's sharp gaze fixed on Harry. "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. Potter, but I must warn you—this wand carries a heavy history. Power such as this must be wielded wisely."

Harry nodded, slipping the wand into his pocket. The Elder Wand hummed faintly, as if acknowledging its new master. He felt its power, raw and ancient, but also the weight of its legacy—a legacy he knew all too well.

The family left the shop in a mix of emotions. Rose was giddy, showing off her wand to her younger sisters, while James and Lily exchanged concerned glances. Charlus seemed thoughtful, and Dorea kept a close watch on Harry, her sharp eyes missing nothing.

As they walked through the bustling streets of Diagon Alley, Dorea fell into step beside her grandson. "Harry," she said softly, her voice carrying a rare tenderness, "power is a tool, but it is your choices that define you."

Harry met her gaze, her words settling in his mind like a vow. "I understand, Grandmother."

The group continued on, their spirits lifted by the day's excitement. But as Harry walked, his thoughts lingered on the wand in his pocket and the path that lay ahead. The Elder Wand was his once more, but this time, he vowed its power would serve a purpose far greater than himself.