(Quick Author's Note. I'm going to have them get on the train immediately because I don't want Harry going back to the Dursley's and I don't want Ciara to go back to the Malfoy's, so they'll be getting on the platform in this chapter. Enjoy).

Before Harry and Ciara could run off to go look at the other shops, Hagrid grabbed the back of their shirts, "Might as well get yer uniform", said Hagrid, nodding toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Listen, yeh two, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts."

'Hagrid does look a little green', she thought to Harry, 'he deserves it.' She nodded "Go on Hagrid. We'll be fine." Hagrid turned to go back to The Leaky Cauldron as Ciara pulled Harry into the shop. "Hogwarts, dears?" she asked, before they even had the chance to speak. "Got the lot here -- another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Harry turned to asked Ciara if she wanted to be fitted for her robes first, but her attention was on the boy on the stool. "Hey Draco!!" The boy turned his head and stared at Ciara in shock, "Ciara? You got out?"

Ciara nodded, "A man named Dumbledore came to your house and got me out of the basement. He even scared mother away!!" She was almost jumping from the pure joy of being out of the basement. Madam Malkin ushed Harry onto a stool next the boy Ciara had called 'Draco'. Madam Malkin quickly slipped a robe over his head and began measuring him.

"Hello", said the boy, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes", said Harry.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands", said Draco. He had a bored, drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to took at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Ciara knew his actions were wrong but didn't say anything. But Harry, however, thought about how the boy strongly reminded him of Dudley and had to bite his tongue to keep from saying something insulting. "Have you got your own broom?" Draco went on. "No", Harry mumbled quietly. Ciara could see Harry growing more and more uncomfortable by the minute and prepared to tell Draco off but he continued, "Play Quidditch at all?" Harry's cheeks were the lightest shade of pink, "No."

"Draco, he's new to the wizarding world", Ciara said quietly, so quietly that Draco didn't hear her. I do - Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No," said Harry, feeling more stupid by the minute. "Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - Ciara will be a Slytherin too. Her father and her mother were the best Slytherins." Ciara's cheeks were slightly pink, from embarrassment or anger, Harry couldn't tell, "We don't know that Draco. None of us know how we get sorted into our houses." Draco's smile faltered slightly, "So? Name one person in our family that wasn't a Slytherin." Ciara mumbled something so quietly, only Draco could hear, "Well, there are our-"

"You better not be talking about those filthy cousins of our's", Draco said with a sneer. Ciara shot to her feet, her face, Harry now realized, was flushed in anger, "They are not filthy!!" There was a loud cracking noise as the window by the door had a long crack right in the middle of the window. Draco turned back towards Harry, "Don't mind her. She's not right in the head." Ciara stared at him mouth agape, "Draco!!"

Ciara had never heard him speak that, much less about her. He continued as if she wasn't even there, "I say, look at that man!" said Draco suddenly, nodding toward the front window. Hagrid was standing there, grinning at Harry and Ciara, pointing at three large ice creams that he had in a holder to show he couldn't come in.

"That's Hagrid", said Harry, looking pleased to know something that Draco didn't. "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh", said Draco, "I've heard of him. He's a sort of servant, isn't he?"

"He's the gamekeeper", said Ciara. Her voice was deadly calm and Harry had to resist taking a few steps away from her. Draco nodded like she just proved his point, "Yes, exactly. I heard he's a sort of savage - lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed."

"I think he's brilliant", Ciara and Harry said in sync, both looking very flushed in the face. "Do you?" Draco asked, with a slight sneer. "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?" Ciara was about to punch him in the face when Harry put a hand on her shoulder, sending her a look to stand down. "My parents are dead", Harry said quietly.

"Oh, sorry", Draco said, not sounding sorry at all. "But they were our kind, weren't they?" Harry felt a little dumb standing next to the him, "They were a witch and wizard, if that's what you mean." Ciara growled quietly, "No Harry. He's asking if they were purebloods or not."

Draco ignored her and continued to talk to Harry, "I really don't think they should let the other sort in, do you? They're just not the same, they've never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What's your surname, anyway?"

Before Harry could answer him, Ciara snapped at him, "If you knew what his surname was, you wouldn't dare speak to him like that." It made perfect since to Harry, but Draco's face paled slightly, before it turned red in anger, "Father and Aunt Bella told you never to speak in that tongue."

Harry could feel Ciara's temper about to break and he stepped closer towards her, hoping to put out the fire before it started. Ciara's hands were curled into fists and her eyes burned in rage, "Uncle Lucius and Mother do not control me. And neither do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy." Draco's face turned pink at hearing his middle name and both Ciara and Harry had to bite their tongues to keep from snickering.

He glared at his cousin, "My father will hear about this." She stepped forward and Harry knew that it would be pointless to try and put out this fire. Once Ciara was mad, there was nothing anyone could do to try to calm her down, (the only thing that calmed her down is when she got her revenge).

She was so close to Draco their noses were almost touching, "Is that a threat?" Her voice so deadly calm and so scary that even Draco looked hesitant to tell his father. Ciara stepped away from him, "That's what I thought." Before Draco could snap back, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dears", and Harry and Ciara hopped down from the footstool. "See you at Hogwarts I suppose", Draco called out after them. 

Harry was rather quiet as he ate the ice cream Hagrid had bought him (chocolate and raspberry with chopped nuts). Ciara, on the other hand, was not. While she had a mouthful of ice cream (plain chocolate), she was ranting telepathically to Harry about how Draco never acted like that before, how he was turning into a total arse, how she was going to beat him up with his new broomstick later, and threw in a few suggestions on where to shove his brand-new wand (Harry flinched and winced at a few of them).

"What's up?" said Hagrid, noticing the silence after a while. "Nothing", Harry quickly lied, before Ciara could rant about how big of an arse Draco was to them. They stopped to buy parchment and quills. Harry cheered up a bit when he found a bottle of ink that changed color as you wrote. When they had left the shop, he said, "Hagrid, what's Quidditch?"

Ciara glanced up as well, she only heard Draco talk about Quidditch a few time, but she still didn't know what it was. "Blimey, Harry, I keep forgettin' how little yeh know -- not knowin' about Quidditch! Especially with who yer father is." Harry mumbled under his breath, "Don't make me feel worse." And before Harry could stop her, Ciara told Hagrid about the pale boy in Madam Malkin's (And she didn't rant about him being an arse, to Harry's surprise).

Harry cleared his throat, "-- and he said people from Muggle families shouldn't even be allowed in--". Hagrid suddenly didn't look as cheerful as he did earlier, "Yer not from a Muggle family, Harry. If he'd known who yeh were -- he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk. You saw what everyone in the Leaky Cauldron was like when they saw yeh. Anyway, what does he know about it, some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line o' Muggles -- look at yer mum! Look what she had fer a sister!"

Ciara nodded, "Harry, if you haven't noticed, you're a legend around here. Every kid has grown up knowing your name, even me, and I was locked in the basement for half of my life!!" Harry growled, "You don't need to remind me of what that sorry excuse for a person did to you Ciara." The anger in his tone took Ciara a little aback. It was very rare for Harry to show his angry side, but when he did, Ciara would always be there to try and put out any fire that he would cause (both figuratively and literally).

Ciara placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'm okay Harry. You don't need to worry about me." Harry relaxed a little and out of the corner of her eye, Ciara saw Hagrid smiling at them. 'I think we're reminding Hagrid of your parents, Harry.' Harry smiled with a sad glint in his eyes (which did not go unnoticed by Ciara), and asked his previous question, "So, what's Quidditch?"

Hagrid cheerfulness came back at the question, "It's our sport. Wizard sport. It's like -- like soccer in the Muggle world -- everyone follows Quidditch -- played up in the air on broomsticks and there's four balls -- sorta hard ter explain the rules." Ciara took over from there, "From what Draco told me (Everyone scowled at the name) Quidditch is a game played on broomsticks. The main goal so to get the most points. To get the points, three people--known as Chasers-- take a ball that they call 'The Quaffle' and throw it into one of the three hoops. Then there's the two other people called 'The Beaters'. The have these little bats that they use to hit other two balls away from their teammate called 'Bludgers'."

She took a deep breath before continuing, "Then there's 'The Keeper'. The Keeper's job is to make sure that the other team does not score any points. Their have a lot of freedom in how to keep the other from scoring. And last, but not least, 'The Seeker'. He's one of the most important people in the game. The Seeker's job is to look and catch the ball called 'The Snitch'. As soon as The Seeker catches The Snitch, one-hundred and fifty points will be added to their score and the game will be over. Who ever has the most points at the end of the game wins."

Ciara almost fell over from how much breath she used to explain Quidditch. Harry placed a hand on her shoulder to help steady her, "It sounds...fascinating". Ciara nodded, "Draco made it sound that way." Everyone scowled again at the name as Harry stared long and hard at Ciara. How did she end up with a family like that? She was so nice and They were just....not.

'It's not fair', Harry grumbled telepathically and Ciara gave him a confused look. 'What's not fair?' Harry scowled at the ground, 'Your life. Your family. Your home. It's not fair, Ciara. You deserve so much more than that.' He looked back up only to see her smiling at him, 'Life will never be fair to us, Harry. We were never treated fairly before, there's no reason to lose our heads over it now.'

'Doesn't mean I like it', Harry thought glumly. Ciara chuckled, 'I don't like the way you're treated either, but what can I do? As soon as the years over, I'll probably be back in the basement.' Harry grumbled some more and kicked the dirt. Ciara chuckled and Hagrid stepped back into the conversation, "Do yer have anymore questions, 'Arry"? Harry nodded, "Yeah, what's Slytherin and Hufflepuff?"

Hagrid seemed to be looking for something as he answered,"School houses. There's four. Everyone says Hufflepuff are a lot o' duffers, but--"

"I bet I'm in Hufflepuff", said Harry gloomily.

"Better Hufflepuff than Slytherin", said Hagrid darkly. "There's not a single witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin. You-Know-Who was one." Ciara frowned. She didn't like how only wizard in the Slytherin house had given it such a bad reputation. It made her feel sick to her stomach. Her father could have gone to any other houses and done the same thing and then that house would get a bad reputation.

Harry looked shocked at the new, "Vol-, sorry -- You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts?" Hagrid nodded, "Years an' years ago." They hurried and bought Ciara and Harry's school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Harry whispered to Ciara about how even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of these. Hagrid and Ciara almost had to drag Harry away from Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue-Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian.

"I was trying to find out how to curse Dudley", Harry explained. Ciara snickered and Hagrid laughed a little, "I'm not sayin' that's not a good idea, but yer not ter use magic in the Muggle world except in very special circumstances," said Hagrid. "An' anyway, yeh couldn' work any of them curses yet, yeh'll need a lot more study before yeh get ter that level."

Ciara bit back a laugh when Hagrid wouldn't let Harry buy a solid gold cauldron, either ("It says pewter on yer list"), but they got a nice set of scales for weighing potion ingredients and a collapsible brass telescope. Then they visited the Apothecary, which was fascinating enough to make up for its horrible smell, a mixture of bad eggs and rotted cabbages. Barrels of slimy stuff stood on the floor; jars of herbs, dried roots, and bright powders lined the walls; bundles of feathers, strings of fangs, and snarled claws hung from the ceiling. Harry wrinkled his nose as soon as they walked in but Ciara didn't mind the smell. It reminded her of the cream that her Aunt Narcissa would have Dobby put on her back to make sure that her lashes wouldn't get an infection.

While Hagrid asked the man behind the counter for a supply of some basic potion ingredients for Harry, Harry himself examined silver unicorn horns at twenty-one Galleons each and minuscule, glittery-black beetle eyes (five Knuts a scoop). Ciara rolled her eyes playfully as she watching him look at all the stuff in awe, "And I thought you were the mature one." Harry playfully glared at her, "Says the one who almost got hit by a car after looking at the Muggle buildings." Ciara didn't say much after that comment.

Outside the Apothecary, Hagrid checked their lists again, "Just yer wand left -- A yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh two a birthday present."

Harry and Ciara both turned red. "You don't have to--", Harry started. "You don't need to--" Ciara began. Hagrid waved away their protest, "I know I don't have to. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at -- an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze. I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls, they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."

Twenty minutes later, they left Eeylops Owl Emporium, which had been dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-bright eyes. Harry now carried a large cage that held a beautiful snowy owl, fast asleep with her head under her wing while Ciara carried a beautiful black owl, with silver dots splashed onto it's feathers and big silver eyes that seemed to notice everything. They couldn't stop stammering his thanks, sounding just like Professor Quirrell. "Don' mention it", said Hagrid gruffly after a while. "Don' expect you've had a lotta presents from them Dursley's and from the Malfoy's. Just Ollivanders left now -- only place fer wands, Ollivanders, and yeh gotta have the best wand."

A magic wand...both Harry and Ciara were excited about buying their wands.

The last shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Both of the eleven year old children felt strangely as though they had entered a very strict library.

Ciara could tell that he was swallowing a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. Ciara resisted the urge to snicker. No matter what happened, Harry always seemed to be filled with questions about what things were, what they did and what was going on.

"Good afternoon", said a soft voice. Harry jumped. Hagrid must have jumped, too, because there was a loud crunching noise and he got quickly off the spindly chair. Ciara didn't make a sound as the voice spoke. She had a lot of practice using her ears, so she had heard the man approach before he said anything.

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. "Hello", said Harry awkwardly as Ciara waved in greetings. "Ah yes", said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." Ciara noticed that it wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Ciara could tell Harry was uncomfortable and she couldn't blame him. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it -- it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

Mr. Ollivander had come so close to Harry, they were almost nose to nose. For a moment Harry was scared Ciara was going to go all protective on him and force the man back.

Mr. Ollivander brought his hand up to touch the lightning scar on Harry's forehead, "And that's where...". He sighed and shook his head sadly, "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it", he said softly. "Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes.

"And that's where..."

Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

He pulled back and seemed to notice Ciara for the first time, "I was also wondering where you have been, Ciara Riddle." Harry could feel Ciara tense up and he placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her down. The reaction was almost instantaneous. Ciara's tense shoulders relaxed slightly and her soon-to-be glare immediately changed into a calm look. Mr. Ollivander gently cupped her chin and stared at her with rapid attention, "You seem to have a mix of your mother and father's eyes. They compliment you quite nicely." Ciara stared at the man in shock, "You've met my mother? And my father? But how-"

"It was long before they became what they are now, child", Mr. Ollivander cut her off. "Yes, I remember your mother. Twelve and three quarter inch. Unyielding. Made of Walnut. Dragon Heartstring core. Good for producing Flamboyant spells." He studied her for a bit longer, "But you appear to have your father's confidence. I remember all to clearly when he came to my shop to purchase his wand."

He stopped for a moment before tilling her chin up, revealing her own scar that Voldemort gave her, "And this is from the very wand that he bought. Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..."

For a moment, his eyes held so much pain and regret, it took Ciara by surprise. He quickly pulled away from her and finally spotted Hagrid, "Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?" Hagrid nodded. "It was, sir, yes."

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" said Mr. Ollivander, suddenly stern. "Er -- yes, they did, yes," said Hagrid, shuffling his feet. "I've still got the pieces, though", he added brightly. "But you don't use them?" said Mr. Ollivander sharply.

"Oh, no, sir", Hagrid said quickly. He gripped his pink umbrella very tightly as he spoke (which didn't go unnoticed by Ciara). "Hmmm", said Mr. Ollivander, giving Hagrid a piercing look. "Well, now -- Mr. Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Er -- well, I'm right-handed", said Harry.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. Ciara couldn't help but find it a little odd, even for the wizarding world, but whatever it took to buy their wands she would be willing to do.

As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Ciara kept glancing around at the boxes, amazed about how they were all filled with a different kind of wand. She realized that it must have taken months--maybe even years--to make all these wands. "That will do", Mr. Ollivander said, "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

Harry took the wand and (looking foolish) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once, before replacing it with another one. "Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try--". Harry tried -- but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander. "No, no -- here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become. And Ciara, to her annoyance, was proving to be a little more like her mother than Harry though. She began to grow more and more impatient as Harry tried out all the wands. Although she did a good job at hiding it, if it wasn't for her and Harry's connection, he wouldn't have been able to tell either.

Mr. Ollivander chuckled, "Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere -- I wonder, now -- yes, why not -- unusual combination -- holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand and the reaction happened instantly. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Ciara shielded her eyes from the sudden light as Hagrid whooped and clapped and Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..."

He put Harry's wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering, "Curious... curious..." It was getting on Ciara's nerves if he was completely honest.

"Sorry, but what's curious", Harry asked before Ciara could snap at him. Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare the creeped both Harry and Ciara out. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather -- just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother -- why, its brother gave you that scar."

Ciara's jaw dropped at the news. It appeared odd to her that the wand that chose him, was the brother of the wand that took the greatest thing from him. Harry suddenly looked like he was having a hard time swallowing. Mr. Ollivander continued, "Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things -- terrible, yes, but great."

Ciara bit her tongue to keep from saying how ridiculous that though was. Mr. Ollivander handed Harry his wand before turning to Ciara, "Now, Ciara Riddle, let's find you your wand." He picked up his tape measure, "Now, which on is your wand hand?" Ciara just stared at him, "My what?" Mr. Ollivander repeated himself and she stared uncomfortably at the floor, "I don't know, sir."

Ciara cringed at how pitiful it sounded. She hated not knowing something about herself, especially when someone asked her and expected an immediate answer. Harry grabbed the quill and a piece of parchment from the desk and handed them to Ciara, "Write with both of your hands. Whichever is more comfortable is your wand-hand."

She placed the quill in her right hand and wrote down Ciara Abigail Riddle. To say it looked awful was an understatement. It was so bad no one could even tell she wrote anything down. Ignoring their stares and trying to push away her embarrassment, she placed the quill in her other hand and scribbled down Harry James Potter. Her writing was remarkably better in her left hand than her right. Harry smiled at her as she wordlessly gave her left hand to Mr. Ollivander. 'So your left-handed?'

'Yeah, I guess I am', she answered as the tape measure flew around, measuring different parts of her. Mr. Ollivander handed her a wand, "Nine and a half inches. Cherry Wood with Thestral hair core. Springy. Give it a wave." Ciara had only raised her hand before Mr. Ollivander plucked it out of her hand, "No no no", he quickly handed her another wand. "Ten inches. English oak with troll whisker core. Inflexible."

Just like Harry, Ciara was a tricky customer. They went through wand after wand, until her pill was almost as big as Harry's. Mr. Ollivander came back from the back of the shop, a new box in his hand. He hesitantly took it out and placed it in her hand not say anything about the wand, just the usual 'give it a wave'.

As soon as she waved it, Ciara knew it was the one. Unlike Harry, whose wand produced red and gold sparks, Ciara's produced black, silver and aqua green sparks all at once. With the wand in her hand, Ciara felt extremely powerful, like she could do anything and go anywhere. Harry and Hagrid both cheered while Mr. Ollivander stared at Ciara, a disturbed look on his face.

Ciara twirled the wand in her hand, feeling happy she had the opportunity to get her wand, "What is this wand made of, Mr. Ollivander?" He gently took the wand out of her hand and placed it in the box, "This wand is a very special wand. It's been here since the store opened. I never thought it would leave the shelves, but here I am, selling this very wand." Ciara raised an eyebrow at him, "You still haven't told me what it's made of yet." Mr. Ollivander sighed, "It's made from Acacia wood. No one other than their owner can use the wand."

Ciara nodded, twirling the that was sitting on the desk in her hand, "What about it's core?" Mr. Ollivander paused for a moment before handing the boxes to them, "I'll have to tell you that another time, dear child." They quickly paid for their wands (Harry's costing seven galleons and Ciara's costing nine) and they quickly made their way out of the shop. But if they stayed around a moment longer they (meaning Ciara) would have heard him whisper, "And the core is a Basilisk Fang. Great for healing and causing destruction."

✨💎⚡

No one really spoke as they made their way through Diagon Alley and back into the muggle world. Ciara didn't spin in a circle trying to look at everything and Hagrid didn't point at random things, making comments about them. Ciara was lost in her thought until Hagrid tapped them both on the shoulder, letting them know that they were both at Paddington station. "Got time fer a bite to eat before yer train leaves", he said. He bought Harry and Ciara a hamburger and they sat down on plastic seats to eat them. Harry kept looking around. Everything looked so strange, somehow.

"You all right, Harry? Yer very quiet", said Hagrid. Ciara immediately felt guilty. She had been so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn't she didn't notice her best friend's lack of social interaction. Ciara knew that Harry didn't talk much (because of what happened today or what he went through as a child, Ciara couldn't tell) but usually he talked more than this. Harry seem a little lost, like he was looking for the words to try and describe the way he was feeling.

"Everyone thinks I'm special", he said at last. "All those people in the Leaky Cauldron, Professor Quirrell, Mr. Ollivander... but I don't know anything about magic at all. How can they expect great things? I'm famous and I can't even remember what I'm famous for. I don't know what happened when Vol-, sorry -- I mean, the night my parents died."

Ciara placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Harry, you are special. No one has survived the killing curse before. That's how you got the name, The Boy Who Lived." Harry looked down, 'Feels like I'm just The Boy Who Lies.' Ciara frowned and rubbed his shoulder comfortingly. It was true, both Harry and Ciara had to lie a lot, but that doesn't mark them as untrustworthy people, does it? As if he didn't see the looks past between them, Hagrid leaned across the table. Behind the wild beard and eyebrows he wore a very kind smile.

"Don' you worry, Harry. You'll learn fast enough. Everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts, you'll be just fine. Just be yerself. I know it's hard. Yeh've been singled out, an' that's always hard. But yeh'll have a great time at Hogwarts -- I did -- still do, 'smatter of fact." Hagrid looked at the clock and looked like he was going to have a stroke, "Good Gravy, is that the time? Sorry you two, but I got te get on ter Hogwarts." 

He patted his coat pocket, "Dumbledore..he'll be wantin' ter see me." Hagrid handed both of them a ticket, "Those are yer tickets to get on the train. Don' lose them." They both looked at the ticket and Ciara pulled at Harry's sleeve, "Harry, I didn't know there was a platform called Nine and three quarters." Harry shook his head, "That's because there isn't one, right Hagrid."

Both of the children looked up, expecting to see the Giant, but Hagrid had already gone.

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