If you like what you see and what more, please drop a few fav, or leave a comment, and a nice 5 star review would mean the world to me!

Also you can find advance chapters, commission art, and more bonus content on my Patreon page at https://www.patreon.com/Mark_Ward Your support would go a long way in helping a small time author, thanks!

-------------------------------------

"Nothing, nothing," the old wizard shook his head, "just that Harry has outgrown his wand and they aren't compatible anymore." Looking at the old wizard, Harry had the feeling the wandmaker knew exactly why he had out grown his wand, and he was thankful the old wizard didn't mention it, especially to the old meddling bastard.

Although it is an unfortunate thing being connected to Voldemort, he would rather not have it mention out loud. Especially the fact that he had that psycho's soul fragment inside of him, that could immediately lead to bad outcomes if anyone found out.

No matter what they thought of him, just knowing that he had a part of that madman's soul in him could raise many questions. Souls are the essence of a human, and with two souls in a body there could be a mending of personalities and memories.

Harry was sure or he always told himself he was nothing like Voldermort and had hadn't been affected by his soul fragment in him for over a dozen years. But nobody would understand that, and it was just a risk he couldn't take.

"Really?" Harry asked as he looked down at his wand, playing along with what the old wandmaker said. Still he was a bit saddened, he and his wand really have been through a lot, but he guessed he just changed too much and his wand won't be coming with him through his next journey in life.

"Then what are we to do?" Dumbledore asked, as his bushy eyebrows furrowed. "He needs to compete next month in the first trial, and if his wand isn't working properly..."

"You my boy," the wandmaker said as he turned to face him, "need a new wand."

"Can't he make do with the one he has?" Dumbledore inquired. "Doesn't the time it takes to get used to a new wand take awhile and he will need to fight a dra-... I mean he will need to be in his tip top shape for his trial to come."

"Well if as you put it he needs to be in tip top shape, then he will need a new wand no matter what. I could already see that is magic is 15% less effective and the mana exchange is at a 7% loss. So you tell me, will he need a new wand."

"Alright, alright," the Hogwarts headmaster acquiesced, "you are the expert here, Garrick. We will follow what you say is best."

"Good," the wandmaker nodded his head as he handed Harry back his wand. "For now you can keep it and in the future, it can act as a backup wand for you. Make sure you come into my shop when you are next free."

"Will do, Mr. Ollivander," Harry nodded his head.

--------------------------------------------------

Walking into Diagon Alley, Harry was always taken back by all the shops that lined the cobblestoned wizarding and the magical folk milling about. The place was old fashion as if it was out of a medieval fair, but medieval times had nothing to the magical aesthetic that prevailed through the street.

He tried to ignore the people shadowing him, but he just couldn't keep them out of mind and they quickly ruined his enjoyment of sightseeing all the wonderful things on the alley.

"Must you follow me?" Harry finally asked as he turned to face Tonks and her squad mates.

"You know the orders from Madam Bones as much as I do," Tonks smiled at him. "We are simply following orders."

Sighing, Harry wondered why his life had to be so miserable.

Thanks to the paper that he told Rita to write, Amelia took the matter of him joking about being assassinated seriously. The public was in outcry when the news was out that somehow the goblet of fire spat out his name.

They really took it seriously that someone might be trying to harm him so the Ministry had to react. And by that he meant them sending in Aurors full force. The magical law enforcers now filled the school and he had Tonks and her squad on him all day.

Dumbledore wasn't too happy, but since he lost all political power thanks to him, he couldn't do anything. And his record of bad things happening constantly on the school grounds really didn't help his case.

Sighing, Harry knew it was all his fault and could only blame himself for the situation he was in. He was after all the one that painted a vivid and wonderful piece of all the suffering he had gone through and now the public was defensive about their boy hero.

Along the way to Ollivander's shop, Harry got noticed by many people who pointed and whispered as he went by. If there was one reason why he was glad he had Tonks and her squad shadowing him was because they kept the people from swarming him.

Still he made his complementary waves and hellos, kissed a baby or two along the way, and gave words of encouragement to little kids.

Finally they came upon the shop as the sun hung high above in the sky, the place was narrow and shabby with peeling gold letters over the door of the shop read!

Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

Stopping at the door, he turned to Tonks and asked, "Mind if I go in alone, or will you have to follow me inside?"

"Fine, go ahead," Tonks sighed, "we will be waiting right here."

Giving her a nod of thanks, Harry entered the shop, a tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as he stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair, he looked at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling.

Feeling a prickling sensation on the back of his neck, Harry turned around and smiled at the old wandmaker who silently entered from the backroom.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander," Harry greeted the wandmaker while thinking to himself, 'no today, not today will you be getting the jump on me!'

He recalled the first time he came here, when the old wizard nearly gave him and Hagrid a heart attack.

The old man was standing before him, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. "Ah yes," the man nodded his head, "You were coming today!"

The old man suddenly moved closer to Harry, and touched his faded lightning scar on his forehead with a long, white finger. "I see that you got rid of it."

"You could have told me, you know," Harry voiced as he took a step back.

Shaking his head, the old wizard answered, "My house did not have the knowdgle on how to remove it, we know about it but that was all. So I would have just been burdening you with the knowdgle."

"Glad to know," Harry nodded his head as he eased up with the man with his hard tone. It was good to know and it was a weight off his mind that bothered him for a while now.

"You are right handed if I recall correctly," the wandmaker mused as he got right to it.

"Yes," Harry answered as he held out his hand for him before he even needed to ask, he was used to the process so didn't need to be told what to do.

Smiling as he let the measuring tape size him up the old wizard went into the piles he had laying around.

"Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and Bicorn. Nine inches. Inflexible and rigid. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once. "So," Harry begin as the wandmaker handed him another wand to try out, this Oak and Chimaera stinger.

"I noticed that you were in my parents' will for those who were to take care of me if anything were to happen to them. Why is that?" he asked as the old wizard took the wand and handed him another.

"Try this, Silver birch and Unicorn hair. Seven inches. Quite whippy," he said to which he immediately took from his grab before he would even test it. "No, no, no," he said as he handed him another Ebony and Dragon heartstring.

"To answer your question," the wandmaker said as he took the wand from him again and gave him a Maple and Nundu quill. "I knew your great-grandfather, Henry Potter, the person your parents named you after."

"Really?" Harry asked as he tried and tried different wands all of them not the right fit. Harry took a second glance at the old wizard and wondered how fricking old he was.

"Yes," Mr. Ollivander answered as a shadow of a smile split his face. "We were good friends back in the day," he said as he had him try a Larch and Thunderbird feather wand. "That must be why your parents entrusted you to me in their will."

Being sick and tired of trying all those wands out, Harry put his hands up in the air and declared, "Well none of these are working. Do you have a rare and powerful hiding out back?"

"You did try all my rare and powerful wands," the old wizard shook his head amusedly. "I rarely let people try out a Thunderbird or Thestral wand."

"So what are we going to do?" Harry asked, seeing that there wasn't any option left.

Smiling at him with a toothy grin, the wandmaker answered, "Well we will be making a new one for you!"

-------------------------------------

"Come, come," the old wandmaker waved him over as he started heading to the back of the shop. Harry noticed that there was a spring in the old wizard's steps, and he mused he must be excited. 

Hurrying up to catch up, Harry went past the rows upon rows of boxes, took an immediate left, down a long hallway until he walked through the door the old wizard entered in.

Walking into the workshop, Harry was blown away; light up the place where wizard lights, all around on shelves were magical creature parts some very mundane and others quite rare indeed. In cases were labeled pieces of wood and even metal which he ran his hand over the glass covering protecting them.

Acting as a ceiling was shelves of ancient magic tomes who held grat secrets on all sorts of magical foci. Laying on work desks were recent projects yet to be finished. And Harry noticed they weren't just wands, he saw staffs, rods, and scepters in the work. 

"Stop gawking and come over here," the old wizard called out from a table strewn with parchments, empty ink stains, and disarranged materials. 

Doing as commanded, Harry made his way over to where the old man sat. "This is such a novel experience," Harry smiled, this indeed a very novel experience for him as he never bore witness to a wand being made or a wandmaker toning up such an implement. 

Plus he was very much in the empty as he really didn't brush up in his wand lore that very much. He only made some courtesy reads on general magical foci to be up to date on his overall topics and to get a well rounded education. 

"Well you are in for a surprise," the old man chuckled softly. "Now I will have to do some in-depth readings on you if we are to make the perfect and most compatible wand for you."

Pushing aside all the gathered mess on his desk, the wizard told him to take a seat as he turned to face him once he did so.

Drawing out his wand, Harry took a close look at it. It is a very curious thing what a wandmaker's wand is. 

"Sit still," the old wandmaker said as he pointed his wand at Harry, "this will only take a moment."

With that, he begin to mutter a few words under his breath as the spell came into effect on him, Harry felt a tingling sensation as the old wizard did his diagnosis on him. 

"Hmm," he uttered, "I see that a wand would be useless to you in a year or two," he muttered. "You will have to come in for a staff to be made."

Taking a double take, Harry had to repeat in his head what the wandmaker just said, him a staff?! Staffs are only for the most powerful and skilled wizards alive, they are one of the few magical foci that could handle a wizard's magic at that caliber.

To be told Harry would be at that level in a year or two, now that was so high praise and honor. 

Finally the wandmaker was done analyzing him and withdrew his magic and stepped back. "I sence both good and evil waring inside of you, battle, darkness, and dare I say lust?" he mused as he got a reading on him.

Leaving it at that and urning around, he headed to another table and waved him over. Here he had many materials laid out from Hellhound fangs, Salamander tail, Tebo tusk, and even Griffin feathers, and countless more magical creature parts each glowing with a magical light showing how far from mundane they were.

"You will decide a core for your wand. You simply have to run your hand over it, and point out the wand that calls out to you the most."

Doing as commanded, Harry waved his hand over the magical creature parts, however come short. He was drawn to many but they really didn't feel right like it wasn't clicking. 

"Nothing?" the old man asked as Harry shook his head. Harry watched as his face when downcast and slowly start contemplating what to do, until an idea struck him.

Pulling out the item, he held it out to the old man and asked, "Would this do?"

Staring at the Royal Gryphon feather he held in his hand, the old man's fingers trembled as he reached out and carefully held it in his hands. "Is this really..."

"Yes," Harry nodded his head, staring at Sunchaser's feather, "and I do feel a very close connection to it." 

"It will do," the old man nodded his head. "Now moving on," he said as he lead him to where the materials of the body of the wand laid. There were numerous branches of wood laid out and even some rare metals as well. 

"This time I will be getting to the hearts of the issue, and show you my best material," he said as he withdrew a piece of white cloth and laid it out. 

"What is it?" Harry asked as he stared at the beautiful piece of branch, just it's plain simplicity contained so much wonder. 

"A branch from the World Tree itself, Yggdrasil!" the wandmaker answered. "The tree of that represents the cycle of life, death and rebirth."

Just running his wand over it told Harry how perfect it was, "I think I feel that connection you are talking about."

"Good, I am glad, or else I would have been left with nothing. Now this would have been it, but I think you will need some supplementary material in your wand. Come over," he said. 

"You know what to do," he waved his hand. Harry was surprised to see Basilisk's blood in the mix and he also got drawn to a pile of ash which he knew were Phoenix ash as he saw the glowing ember in the ash like it was still lighting up. 

"Ahhh, so I see you chose Fawkes ashes, the two of you really do have a close bond. And the Basilisk blood I was able to by from those goblins, costed me an arm and a leg," he muttered the last part under his breath.

Clapping his hands together, the old wizard declared, "We are now all set to make your wand!"

Quick question, do you want Harry to help make the wand or just pick it up a few days later? See you in the comments for your choice!

------------------------------

magic workshop:http://dndspeak.com/2020/01/100-unique-magical-services/