HP accepted early (revamped) Ch 3
Title: If Harry Potter were Accepted Early
Author: Madsci
Archive: here, if want me on your archive, please ask first
Chapter 3
Miss Huni asked Harry to stay behind after class.
“Harry, two weeks after holidays start, make sure you are in the park, I’ll have someone with me that needs to speak with you.”
“Severus, I need you to go to speak to a new student, one in the same situation you were accepted under. He lives under wards such that a Muggle or Squib is the only one able to see the house, so you’ll need to meet up with Amanda Hunibeor, one of Minerva’s squib cousins, a music teacher at the local primary school. Also, make sure you are in Muggle-acceptable clothes, or apply a Glamour.”
“Good afternoon, Professor Snape. I assume you’re ready to meet Harry and explain all this to him.”
“Potter? Oh, no…I’m not doing this! Albus can rot before I deprive myself of another few peaceful years.”
As he turned to leave, a tiny boy with a shock of black hair and glasses came running out of seemingly nowhere.
“Hello, Miss Huni! Is this the person you said wanted to speak with me?”
At her nod, he sobered and introduced himself, asking what the conversation was going to be about. After Amanda’s explanation of who Professor Snape was, said man had regained his composure and explained that normally one is accepted to magic school at 11, but occasionally someone is so powerful that they need to start training early before they blow themselves up. Of course, Harry, being the bright little boy he is, asked if the magic he was going to learn was like Gandalf’s. Of course, Severus had no clue who this ‘Gandalf;’ was, so Miss Huni answered that the two were similar, but very few people could use staves or instruments like the Istari.
Snape grabbed Harry’s shoulder, Apparating them to the courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron. He tapped the appropriate bricks more slowly than usual, telling himself it was because he was distracted, not being kind to this slip of a Potter, smaller than his godson, Draco, and the same size as his 6-year-old niece.
Harry looked around, amazed at all the people and shops. He was about to ask if they could go to the magical music shop, but Snape steered him toward a large white building guarded by Orc-like beings. He figured that he’d trust Snape to not let him get hurt, for now, anyway.
“Now, Potter, I know that no one has explained the significance of your parents’ deaths to you, but you need to keep a low profile, you’re famous in the wizarding world, so keep your eyes down and don’t show your scar.”
“Why?”
“We don’t have time, and I don’t have the inclination to tell you; get a copy of the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts later.”
After retrieving some money from the bank and getting a special pouch/wallet that could give him pounds or galleons, Harry sprinted to the music shop he saw before. As he looked around in awe, he felt a tug in his stomach, not like when the Professor brought them, but like the feeling he got when improvising before strange things happened. He followed the tug to a dark back corner, where he found a 3-foot tall harp leaning against the wall with a book next to it. When he reached out to touch the beautiful wood, carved so that the grain looked like rushing water, he felt a ‘click’ in what he now suspected was his magic, and heard a ringing chime of a perfect A 440. He picked up the harp, relieved it was lighter than it looked, and took the book under his arm, returning to the front of the store.
The shopkeeper, seeing the tiny boy with a harp almost as big as he was, helped him get the harp and book onto the counter, then turned to him.
“Didja want ta buy this? I don’t think a lil’ tyke like you can play this.”
“I want to try. I’ve been playing violin at school for almost a year, I’m pretty good now. Besides, I felt a pull in my magic towards it when I came in. It felt better when I touched the harp, so I guess its destiny.”
“I suppose so. Now that harp’s been sitting around the shop for nigh on 400 years according to the inventory books. I’ll sell it to ya, with the book, for 15 galleons, 7 sickles.”
Harry, remembering he had an advisor with him, turned to Professor Snape, who had just stepped out of the shadows, silently asking his opinion regarding the price. At Snape’s nod, Harry removed 16 galleons from his pouch, took the shrunken package, and turned to leave.
“Keep the extra, just don’t tell anyone who came in here today.”
Continuing out the door, the little boy’s hair moved off his forehead for a second, revealing a lightening bolt scar.
Running to keep up with Professor Snape’s long strides, the two reached a shop that seemed to be a tailor’s. The proprietor bustled Harry onto a fitting platform, covering her surprise that a child tiny enough she had to alter some dress robes from the 6-year-old rack needed Hogwart’s robes. She also marveled that Professor Snape, the bane of her clerks’ existence, and the reason half of them left within a year, was tolerating a student.
A few minutes later, a blond boy and a short man with glasses came in.
“Hello, Madame Malkin! School robes for my Cedric here, please!”
“I’ll be with you in a moment, Amos. Young man, please step up onto the vacant platform while I finish pinning these robes.”
The tall blond boy turned to Harry and introduced himself as Cedric Diggory. Shortly afterward, Harry’s robes were finished, so he stepped down to pay and leave.
“It was nice meeting you, Cedric, I hope we see each other again at school.”
“Aren’t you a bit young for Hogwart’s, you’re the same size as Ginny and Luna, and they’re not quite seven.”
“I’m eight in two weeks, and I was accepted this morning. Anyway, I’ll see you later.”
Again, as the tiny boy whirled to go, his eyes snapping, his fringe moved, revealing a mark. Amos and Professor Snape were the only ones that saw that Harry’s eyes were glowing the color of the curse he survived. As the two brunettes left, Amos stood, dazed with shock at the personage they had encountered, the implications whizzing through his head.
Thankfully, Harry had calmed down by the time the two reached the book store. Harry grabbed an endless basket, then started on his crusade for knowledge, pulling any book off the shelf that wasn’t labeled ‘Advanced’ or a year level higher than 3rd. He ended up with 70 books: all of the required books through year 3, chosen with a clerk’s help, as Snape had wandered off to the Potions and Alchemy section to browse, and 2 books from every section in the store besides the Dark Arts, though he did have a book on Light Necromancy, as it was technically Green Way magic, and therefore would not damage him. His particular favorites were a magical theory book, a spell-crafting book, and a wandless magic book. The book Snape recommended also looked interesting.
On Harry’s way to the register, which meant going through the sport section, he encountered two boys arguing.
“Higgs, you idiot! Of course the Keeper’s the best position, the Seeker isn’t even part of the action until the last few minutes, the Keeper’s what makes sure no one leaves in utter boredom before the end of the game. That’s why I’ll be a Keeper this year.”
“Wood, why can’t you see that the Keeper’s just a glorified target? The Chasers aim for you, you duck out of the way to avoid getting an ouchie, the Quaffle goes in. The game would be better off without a Keeper.”
Harry, a bit freaked out by the loud argument, asked, “Excuse me, but may I get by? I need to get to the register.”
“Whoa, look at the little mite! Are you sure you can read? Those books are quite advanced for a 6-year-old,” Wood said.
“First of all, I know I’m short, no need to point it out, second, I received my Hogwart’s acceptance this morning. By the by, which book would you two suggest from this section? I’m trying to build my library, so I’m getting a few books from each section...”
“Where are your parents, kid?” Higgs sneered.
“My parents have been dead since I was a baby. I’m here with Professor Snape.”
Higgs, knowing that if his head of house caught him bullying his charge, he’d get Ts on all his assignments for the whole term out of spite. Wood was just plain scared.
The two parted, letting him through, and as Harry went between them, Wood placed a copy of Quidditch through the Ages in Harry’s basket.
Once all the books were in a bottomless bag, Harry went next door to the apothecary, forgetting about letting Snape know where he was, unused as he was to people caring where he went, as long as he completed the appointed tasks. He thought the dingy shop smelled more like a compost pile than an herbalist’s.
“Excuse me, sir, is the first year potions kit a boxed kit, or do you have a list I could borrow to get supplies off the shelves?”
“You are an entering first-year? Let me see your letter.”
“Oh, I don’t have one, the Professor has been telling me what I need as we go.”
“Well, I can’t give you the list until I see a letter or a note from a guardian.”
“OK. Can I look around for a while, then? I’ll not touch anything.”
“Very well. Be careful.”
Of course, Snape snapped out of his perusing when his proximity alarm went off, signaling that Potter had gone more than 10 meters away. Panicking at what Albus would say, and a bit of worry at such a tiny person wandering around such a crowded area alone, he hurried to the register, passing Wood and Higgs, who seemed to be arguing, but that wasn’t his problem right now.
“Have you seen a little boy, black hair and glasses?”
“Yes, why?” The clerk answered, popping her gum.
“Because he’s my charge for the day, idiot! Do you want Dumbledore mad at us?”
Higgs crept up to Professor Snape, “Sir? Was he tiny, like a five-year-old, but buying school books?”
“You saw him? Any clue where he went, Higgs?” Snape growled.
A bit cowed, Higgs answered, “I think I saw him turn to go to the apothecary, sir. Is he an early entrant? I didn’t think Hogwart’s took students that young…”
“Enough, Higgs, but thank you.” Already turning to go.
“Ah, hello, Professor Snape, come to stock up for the year?”
“No, Edward, I came to retrieve my charge, he’s escaped my supervision.”
“The little mite, black hair, glasses? He’s looking around. I couldn’t give him the list for supplies unless he had a letter.”
“Professor Snape!” Seeing the man’s thunderous expression, he shrunk into himself, looking much less boisterous. “Oh…” Turning to the clerk, he asked, “Sir, should open containers of aconite and asphodel powders be next to a leaky bottle of wormwood extract? I’d think the fumes would be bad to have in a place so filled with glass. Also, wouldn’t it be dangerous to have open anyway?”
Snape looked very angry, but also surprised. He dragged Harry by the arm into an aisle so the clerk couldn’t see or hear their whispered conversation.
“Why didn’t you come find me when you finished getting your books?”
“Ummm…I’ve never really had anyone worried about where I was before. I’m sorry.”
Looking a bit frustrated, Snape sighed, “Apology accepted. Now how did you know what those ingredients would do?”
“What, you mean the danger to customers? Oh, I saw someone in my head staggering around as if they had been poisoned, clutching their throat and stomach. I also had this impression that the combined fumes would make people sleep. Is this weird?”
“Its rare, much like what you described to the music shop clerk about your harp. Have you had ‘impressions’ about anything else?”
“Well, when I’m cooking for my Aunt I seem to know what will taste good. I haven’t needed measuring spoons or cups for years, even when Aunt Petunia gave me take-away leftovers to duplicate.”
“Interesting. Well, let’s get your supplies. Now that I’m here, I can authorize your purchase, as it’s my class.”
“Now for the wand. We need to go to Ollivander’s. You’ll need to do this mostly on your own.”
“OK, Professor. Is there some kind of connection between type of wand and ability?”
“It is generally accepted that the length determines accuracy, much like the difference between a pistol and a rifle. The wood and core usually are best for certain types of magic. For example, a healer almost always has a willow wand with unicorn hair or phoenix feather.”
By this point, they were inside the shop, so it wasn’t that surprising to Severus for Mr. Ollivander to congratulate him on the accuracy of his explanation. Harry, on the other hand, jumped and ended up peeking out from behind Professor Snape’s robes like a little kid hiding behind his mother when he’s feeling shy.
“Oh, I’m sorry, little one. Are you here for a training wand?” Ollivander asked, peering around Professor Snape, “I didn’t know you had a son, Severus.”
“I don’t. Mr. Potter is here for early admission, he needs a true wand.”
“Mr. Potter? My, my…Well, let’s get on with it!” The measuring tape leapt to its function while Ollivander started puttering around, gathering wands. By the time it was measuring between Harry’s nostrils, causing him to cross his eyes drastically, Octavius had returned with a small pile of wands. “Now, let’s see…”
They had tried almost all the wands in the shop, only one was left. Octavius handed it to Harry carefully. Harry waved the wand, producing a faint aurora borealis effect along the path.
“That’s not nearly the reaction I was expecting, this is the brother wand to…” He raised his eyebrow at Severus’ gesture to not say the rest. “How does it feel, Mr. Potter?”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“What he means, Harry, is that he needs to know if you feel your magic flowing. A wand is supposed to pull magic from your core to your hand, so you should feel a tug when you acquire your first wand.”
“No, it feels like there’s a bulgy place in my wrist, like I have a really tight bracelet on. Professor, is it safe to talk about the other things here?” Harry asked, patting his pocket briefly.
Nodding, Severus urged him to tell Mr Ollivander everything, about his uncle, his new harp, and the ‘potion sense’. Needless to say, Mr Ollivander was a bit surprised.
“I can see how you could say you felt clogged. You don’t have enough channeling capability right now. For the first time in 450 years, this shop has to make a multi-core wand! I’ve made a staff and some sorcerer’s rods for adult wizards that need more control or channeling than a wand can give…I’m sorry, young Potter, but I must look through my family’s knowledge on multi-core wands before I can adjust your wand. Severus, is it possible to arrange for young Harry to come again in a week, with Filius, maybe? I’ll need his Dwarven Wardmaster skills for the testing.”
“Very well, I’ll try to get Flitwick and Potter here without entanglements with Albus.”
Author: Madsci
Archive: here, if want me on your archive, please ask first
Chapter 3
Miss Huni asked Harry to stay behind after class.
“Harry, two weeks after holidays start, make sure you are in the park, I’ll have someone with me that needs to speak with you.”
“Severus, I need you to go to speak to a new student, one in the same situation you were accepted under. He lives under wards such that a Muggle or Squib is the only one able to see the house, so you’ll need to meet up with Amanda Hunibeor, one of Minerva’s squib cousins, a music teacher at the local primary school. Also, make sure you are in Muggle-acceptable clothes, or apply a Glamour.”
“Good afternoon, Professor Snape. I assume you’re ready to meet Harry and explain all this to him.”
“Potter? Oh, no…I’m not doing this! Albus can rot before I deprive myself of another few peaceful years.”
As he turned to leave, a tiny boy with a shock of black hair and glasses came running out of seemingly nowhere.
“Hello, Miss Huni! Is this the person you said wanted to speak with me?”
At her nod, he sobered and introduced himself, asking what the conversation was going to be about. After Amanda’s explanation of who Professor Snape was, said man had regained his composure and explained that normally one is accepted to magic school at 11, but occasionally someone is so powerful that they need to start training early before they blow themselves up. Of course, Harry, being the bright little boy he is, asked if the magic he was going to learn was like Gandalf’s. Of course, Severus had no clue who this ‘Gandalf;’ was, so Miss Huni answered that the two were similar, but very few people could use staves or instruments like the Istari.
Snape grabbed Harry’s shoulder, Apparating them to the courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron. He tapped the appropriate bricks more slowly than usual, telling himself it was because he was distracted, not being kind to this slip of a Potter, smaller than his godson, Draco, and the same size as his 6-year-old niece.
Harry looked around, amazed at all the people and shops. He was about to ask if they could go to the magical music shop, but Snape steered him toward a large white building guarded by Orc-like beings. He figured that he’d trust Snape to not let him get hurt, for now, anyway.
“Now, Potter, I know that no one has explained the significance of your parents’ deaths to you, but you need to keep a low profile, you’re famous in the wizarding world, so keep your eyes down and don’t show your scar.”
“Why?”
“We don’t have time, and I don’t have the inclination to tell you; get a copy of the Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts later.”
After retrieving some money from the bank and getting a special pouch/wallet that could give him pounds or galleons, Harry sprinted to the music shop he saw before. As he looked around in awe, he felt a tug in his stomach, not like when the Professor brought them, but like the feeling he got when improvising before strange things happened. He followed the tug to a dark back corner, where he found a 3-foot tall harp leaning against the wall with a book next to it. When he reached out to touch the beautiful wood, carved so that the grain looked like rushing water, he felt a ‘click’ in what he now suspected was his magic, and heard a ringing chime of a perfect A 440. He picked up the harp, relieved it was lighter than it looked, and took the book under his arm, returning to the front of the store.
The shopkeeper, seeing the tiny boy with a harp almost as big as he was, helped him get the harp and book onto the counter, then turned to him.
“Didja want ta buy this? I don’t think a lil’ tyke like you can play this.”
“I want to try. I’ve been playing violin at school for almost a year, I’m pretty good now. Besides, I felt a pull in my magic towards it when I came in. It felt better when I touched the harp, so I guess its destiny.”
“I suppose so. Now that harp’s been sitting around the shop for nigh on 400 years according to the inventory books. I’ll sell it to ya, with the book, for 15 galleons, 7 sickles.”
Harry, remembering he had an advisor with him, turned to Professor Snape, who had just stepped out of the shadows, silently asking his opinion regarding the price. At Snape’s nod, Harry removed 16 galleons from his pouch, took the shrunken package, and turned to leave.
“Keep the extra, just don’t tell anyone who came in here today.”
Continuing out the door, the little boy’s hair moved off his forehead for a second, revealing a lightening bolt scar.
Running to keep up with Professor Snape’s long strides, the two reached a shop that seemed to be a tailor’s. The proprietor bustled Harry onto a fitting platform, covering her surprise that a child tiny enough she had to alter some dress robes from the 6-year-old rack needed Hogwart’s robes. She also marveled that Professor Snape, the bane of her clerks’ existence, and the reason half of them left within a year, was tolerating a student.
A few minutes later, a blond boy and a short man with glasses came in.
“Hello, Madame Malkin! School robes for my Cedric here, please!”
“I’ll be with you in a moment, Amos. Young man, please step up onto the vacant platform while I finish pinning these robes.”
The tall blond boy turned to Harry and introduced himself as Cedric Diggory. Shortly afterward, Harry’s robes were finished, so he stepped down to pay and leave.
“It was nice meeting you, Cedric, I hope we see each other again at school.”
“Aren’t you a bit young for Hogwart’s, you’re the same size as Ginny and Luna, and they’re not quite seven.”
“I’m eight in two weeks, and I was accepted this morning. Anyway, I’ll see you later.”
Again, as the tiny boy whirled to go, his eyes snapping, his fringe moved, revealing a mark. Amos and Professor Snape were the only ones that saw that Harry’s eyes were glowing the color of the curse he survived. As the two brunettes left, Amos stood, dazed with shock at the personage they had encountered, the implications whizzing through his head.
Thankfully, Harry had calmed down by the time the two reached the book store. Harry grabbed an endless basket, then started on his crusade for knowledge, pulling any book off the shelf that wasn’t labeled ‘Advanced’ or a year level higher than 3rd. He ended up with 70 books: all of the required books through year 3, chosen with a clerk’s help, as Snape had wandered off to the Potions and Alchemy section to browse, and 2 books from every section in the store besides the Dark Arts, though he did have a book on Light Necromancy, as it was technically Green Way magic, and therefore would not damage him. His particular favorites were a magical theory book, a spell-crafting book, and a wandless magic book. The book Snape recommended also looked interesting.
On Harry’s way to the register, which meant going through the sport section, he encountered two boys arguing.
“Higgs, you idiot! Of course the Keeper’s the best position, the Seeker isn’t even part of the action until the last few minutes, the Keeper’s what makes sure no one leaves in utter boredom before the end of the game. That’s why I’ll be a Keeper this year.”
“Wood, why can’t you see that the Keeper’s just a glorified target? The Chasers aim for you, you duck out of the way to avoid getting an ouchie, the Quaffle goes in. The game would be better off without a Keeper.”
Harry, a bit freaked out by the loud argument, asked, “Excuse me, but may I get by? I need to get to the register.”
“Whoa, look at the little mite! Are you sure you can read? Those books are quite advanced for a 6-year-old,” Wood said.
“First of all, I know I’m short, no need to point it out, second, I received my Hogwart’s acceptance this morning. By the by, which book would you two suggest from this section? I’m trying to build my library, so I’m getting a few books from each section...”
“Where are your parents, kid?” Higgs sneered.
“My parents have been dead since I was a baby. I’m here with Professor Snape.”
Higgs, knowing that if his head of house caught him bullying his charge, he’d get Ts on all his assignments for the whole term out of spite. Wood was just plain scared.
The two parted, letting him through, and as Harry went between them, Wood placed a copy of Quidditch through the Ages in Harry’s basket.
Once all the books were in a bottomless bag, Harry went next door to the apothecary, forgetting about letting Snape know where he was, unused as he was to people caring where he went, as long as he completed the appointed tasks. He thought the dingy shop smelled more like a compost pile than an herbalist’s.
“Excuse me, sir, is the first year potions kit a boxed kit, or do you have a list I could borrow to get supplies off the shelves?”
“You are an entering first-year? Let me see your letter.”
“Oh, I don’t have one, the Professor has been telling me what I need as we go.”
“Well, I can’t give you the list until I see a letter or a note from a guardian.”
“OK. Can I look around for a while, then? I’ll not touch anything.”
“Very well. Be careful.”
Of course, Snape snapped out of his perusing when his proximity alarm went off, signaling that Potter had gone more than 10 meters away. Panicking at what Albus would say, and a bit of worry at such a tiny person wandering around such a crowded area alone, he hurried to the register, passing Wood and Higgs, who seemed to be arguing, but that wasn’t his problem right now.
“Have you seen a little boy, black hair and glasses?”
“Yes, why?” The clerk answered, popping her gum.
“Because he’s my charge for the day, idiot! Do you want Dumbledore mad at us?”
Higgs crept up to Professor Snape, “Sir? Was he tiny, like a five-year-old, but buying school books?”
“You saw him? Any clue where he went, Higgs?” Snape growled.
A bit cowed, Higgs answered, “I think I saw him turn to go to the apothecary, sir. Is he an early entrant? I didn’t think Hogwart’s took students that young…”
“Enough, Higgs, but thank you.” Already turning to go.
“Ah, hello, Professor Snape, come to stock up for the year?”
“No, Edward, I came to retrieve my charge, he’s escaped my supervision.”
“The little mite, black hair, glasses? He’s looking around. I couldn’t give him the list for supplies unless he had a letter.”
“Professor Snape!” Seeing the man’s thunderous expression, he shrunk into himself, looking much less boisterous. “Oh…” Turning to the clerk, he asked, “Sir, should open containers of aconite and asphodel powders be next to a leaky bottle of wormwood extract? I’d think the fumes would be bad to have in a place so filled with glass. Also, wouldn’t it be dangerous to have open anyway?”
Snape looked very angry, but also surprised. He dragged Harry by the arm into an aisle so the clerk couldn’t see or hear their whispered conversation.
“Why didn’t you come find me when you finished getting your books?”
“Ummm…I’ve never really had anyone worried about where I was before. I’m sorry.”
Looking a bit frustrated, Snape sighed, “Apology accepted. Now how did you know what those ingredients would do?”
“What, you mean the danger to customers? Oh, I saw someone in my head staggering around as if they had been poisoned, clutching their throat and stomach. I also had this impression that the combined fumes would make people sleep. Is this weird?”
“Its rare, much like what you described to the music shop clerk about your harp. Have you had ‘impressions’ about anything else?”
“Well, when I’m cooking for my Aunt I seem to know what will taste good. I haven’t needed measuring spoons or cups for years, even when Aunt Petunia gave me take-away leftovers to duplicate.”
“Interesting. Well, let’s get your supplies. Now that I’m here, I can authorize your purchase, as it’s my class.”
“Now for the wand. We need to go to Ollivander’s. You’ll need to do this mostly on your own.”
“OK, Professor. Is there some kind of connection between type of wand and ability?”
“It is generally accepted that the length determines accuracy, much like the difference between a pistol and a rifle. The wood and core usually are best for certain types of magic. For example, a healer almost always has a willow wand with unicorn hair or phoenix feather.”
By this point, they were inside the shop, so it wasn’t that surprising to Severus for Mr. Ollivander to congratulate him on the accuracy of his explanation. Harry, on the other hand, jumped and ended up peeking out from behind Professor Snape’s robes like a little kid hiding behind his mother when he’s feeling shy.
“Oh, I’m sorry, little one. Are you here for a training wand?” Ollivander asked, peering around Professor Snape, “I didn’t know you had a son, Severus.”
“I don’t. Mr. Potter is here for early admission, he needs a true wand.”
“Mr. Potter? My, my…Well, let’s get on with it!” The measuring tape leapt to its function while Ollivander started puttering around, gathering wands. By the time it was measuring between Harry’s nostrils, causing him to cross his eyes drastically, Octavius had returned with a small pile of wands. “Now, let’s see…”
They had tried almost all the wands in the shop, only one was left. Octavius handed it to Harry carefully. Harry waved the wand, producing a faint aurora borealis effect along the path.
“That’s not nearly the reaction I was expecting, this is the brother wand to…” He raised his eyebrow at Severus’ gesture to not say the rest. “How does it feel, Mr. Potter?”
“What do you mean, sir?”
“What he means, Harry, is that he needs to know if you feel your magic flowing. A wand is supposed to pull magic from your core to your hand, so you should feel a tug when you acquire your first wand.”
“No, it feels like there’s a bulgy place in my wrist, like I have a really tight bracelet on. Professor, is it safe to talk about the other things here?” Harry asked, patting his pocket briefly.
Nodding, Severus urged him to tell Mr Ollivander everything, about his uncle, his new harp, and the ‘potion sense’. Needless to say, Mr Ollivander was a bit surprised.
“I can see how you could say you felt clogged. You don’t have enough channeling capability right now. For the first time in 450 years, this shop has to make a multi-core wand! I’ve made a staff and some sorcerer’s rods for adult wizards that need more control or channeling than a wand can give…I’m sorry, young Potter, but I must look through my family’s knowledge on multi-core wands before I can adjust your wand. Severus, is it possible to arrange for young Harry to come again in a week, with Filius, maybe? I’ll need his Dwarven Wardmaster skills for the testing.”
“Very well, I’ll try to get Flitwick and Potter here without entanglements with Albus.”