Fic: The Wand Chooses the Wizard [First Year] (Primeval/HP, G)
Title: The Wand Chooses the Wizard [First Year]
Series: Connor Temple: Wizard
Author: Sparrow
Fandom: Primeval and Harry Potter
Characters: Connor Temple, Chelsae Temple (OC), Mr. Ollivander
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own Primeval or Harry Potter; I just like playing in their ‘verses.
Spoilers: For those who have not read the Harry Potter books, I do allude to the books, but not to Harry Potter himself. It is a story about Connor Temple in the Harry Potter ‘verse.
Author’s Note: So another breakthrough in this series and I want to extend thanks to fredbassett for the wonderful beta. :) Also, with the spelling of Connor’s Mum name. I know the more popular spelling for it is Chelsea, but I’m giving a little nod to my cousin who spells it Chelsae and I just wanted the character to be a little unique, just like Connor. :D And I can't believe I forgot to add this, but major thanks to chibi_kaz for picking out Connor's wand in a comment fic when I first started posting this series. Series Archive Here.
Summary: The Temple’s are brought to Diagon Alley and Connor gets his wand.
“Muuuuum, c’mon!” Connor whined at his mother. “Hurry up!”
Chelsae Temple eyed her eleven year old son with a well worn look of patience and annoyance. Standing at 5”2’, with black hair and brown eyes, you could see the family resemblance between the two.
“I’m going the same pace I always go to,” Chelsae said with a hint of a grin.
“But, Mum!”
“No buts, Connor, we’ll get there soon enough.”
Pouting, Connor grabbed his mother’s hand and, to her amusement, started to drag her down the street.
They made it to The Leaky Cauldron in no time flat. Chelsae couldn’t see the pub since she was a Muggle, so Connor had to point it out several times before they went into the building.
It was dark, but warm and comforting.
The bartender, Tom, greeted them and led them outside the pub and showed them the brick wall. They watched as his wand tapped a series of bricks and the brickwork seemingly moved away like liquid. The scene that greeted them was awe inspiring.
“Welcome to Diagon Alley.” Tom smiled at them and pointed them towards Gringotts to get their money converted to Wizarding money.
Dealing with the Goblins freaked Connor’s mum out, but all Connor could do was exclaim how cool everything was and want to ride the carts down to the vaults, but since he didn’t have a vault in his name, he couldn’t.
But the Goblin did mention that when Connor turned 17 he could start his own Family Vault in accordance with the Magical Family Act introduced by the Ministry of Magic.
“Le Connor Temple Family Vault,” Connor stated aloud and looked at his mum. “It’s got a nice ring to it, hasn’t it?”
“Well ‘Le Connor Temple’ you have a few years to wait yet,” Chelsae teased her son.
Connor pouted.
“C’mon peanut, let’s go get your wand, then books and the rest of your supplies,” Chelsae ordered her son as she gently pushed him forward.
Biting his lip in anticipation, Connor quickly walked down the cobbled street with his mother and stood outside a shop called ‘Ollivander’s, Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.’
Glancing at the display case, Chelsae could see a display consisting of a single wand resting on a faded purple cushion.
Grabbing her son’s hand, she opened the shop’s door and entered.
Inside the walls were lined floor to ceiling with thousands of narrow boxes that Chelsae could only guess contained wands like the one her son needed.
“Hello?”
“This place looks so brill!” Connor gushed as he looked at the boxes. His eyes went wide as the box wiggled in front of him and dust flew into his face. “ACHOO!”
“Connor, stop touching things,” Chelsae hissed at him and looked around again. The whole shop was one allergy attack waiting to happen. “Hello?”
“Hello.”
Giving off a shriek of fright, she spun around, placing Connor behind her and came face to face with an old man. “Who are you?”
“Mr. Ollivander,” he said and smiled politely. “Welcome to my shop.”
Connor peaked out from behind his mum. “Are you the guy who’ll give me a wand?”
“I am indeed,” Mr Ollivander laughed. “Come, young sir.”
Looking up at his mum for the okay, Connor smiled as he got a tiny nod and followed Mr. Ollivander to a small squat stool. Told to stand on it, he did and then his eyes went wide as a tape measure started floating in the air.
“Now, which is your more dominant hand?”
“Right,” Connor stated. “But what does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s how I fit you for a wand,” Mr. Ollivander explained. “All wands are unique to the witch or wizard. The wand that is chosen will be the best fit for you, for the rest of your life.” Blue eyes bore into Connor. “It’s like holding a piece of your soul.”
Gulping, Connor gave a weak smile. “Yeah, well, let’s not take a piece of my soul out, all right?”
Mr. Ollivander merely chuckled as Connor and his mum exchanged looks. His mum twirled her finger up near her temple and rolled her eyes.
The tape measure danced all over Connor. Measuring his arms, legs, nose and everywhere else. Connor nearly went cross-eyed trying to watch.
Soon the tape measure had finished and it disappeared.
They watched as Mr. Ollivander disappeared deep into his shop and then reappeared carrying a slender box. Pulling the top off, he held the box out to Connor.
Eyeing his mum and the wizard, Connor’s hand shook slightly as he picked up the wand. He looked up at Mr. Ollivander. “Is that it?”
“Of course not! Give it a wave!”
Looking at the older man like he was crazy, Connor decided to humour the wizard and waved the wand. A jet of red light streaked out from the tip and set the potted plant on the corner of the front table on fire.
Shocked, Connor dropped the wand.
“Connor!” Chelsae cried out.
Quickly bending over, Mr. Ollivander grabbed the wand before it hit the floor. “Nope, not that one.”
“I am so sorry!” Connor gasped out.
“Happens all the time!” Mr. Ollivander called out over his shoulder as he disappeared into the stacks. He reappeared quickly with another slender box. He pulled out his own wand and, with a flick, a jet of water gushed out and doused the fire.
“Happens all the time,” Chelsae repeated.
“Well you’re not going to find your wand on the first try,” Mr. Ollivander placated Chelsae. “It has happened, but it’s very rare.”
“All right,” Chelsae nodded. “And the setting things on fire?”
“Oh, much, much worse has happened in this shop than a little fire,” Mr. Ollivander chuckled as he waved a hand at her and presented another box to Connor. “Dragon heartstring made with oak, nine inches, very strong and good for transfiguration.”
“Dragons are real?” Connor and Chelsae asked at the same time, eyes going wide.
“Ah, Muggles, I sometimes forget what we wizards view as real, you still see as fairy tales.”
Eyes wide and ignoring the ‘Muggle’ dig at his mother, Connor picked up the wand and gave it another wave. This time birds flew out.
The wand was plucked out from Connor’s fingers. “Let’s try another one.”
Connor groaned. He had a feeling he was going to be a tricky customer.
Two hours and many discarded wands later on, Connor sighed as he picked up yet another wand. And then what felt like a rush of energy flow through him, he let out a breathy exhale. “Whoa.”
“Excellent! Excellent!” Mr. Ollivander clapped. “We’ve finally found your wand.”
“What combination is it?” Connor asked.
“Ash and unicorn mane, eight inches, great for charms work,” Mr. Ollivander explained. “And the glow will go away in a short moment.”
“Glow?” Connor asked confused.
“You are definitely glowing like a light bulb,” Chelsae lightly joked as she ran a hand just over her son’s arm.
Looking down, Connor grinned like a maniac to see a soft orange glow over his arm and then frowned when it died down and then disappeared.
“Now, remember not to break our wand, because if you do, your second wand will never resonate with you as well as your first wand would,” Mr. Ollivander explained. “Also, you may want to look into a wand holster or something to carry your wand in. A Wizard must always treat the tools he uses with respect.”
Connor agreed quickly as he carefully put the wand into the front pocket of his jeans.
“How much do we owe you?” Chelsae asked as she brought out the small pouch of coins she had been supplied with frbyom the bank, out from her purse.
“That will be six galleons.”
The coins were handed over and the two headed out of the shop.
Books and supplies were bought and Connor watched as his Mum had a mini-rant at the store keeper on the subject of “the cruelty of having feathers plucked off birds to make for quills and they weren’t living in the dark ages and haven’t they heard of pens and pencils?”
They were quickly ushered out with that and a free quill and parchment set tossed at them. Connor watched as his mum fumbled the catch, but managed to keep hold of it.
“Well, I never,” Chelsae fumed and looked around for some sort of rubbish bin to toss it into.
“Mum, I may need that for school,” Connor pointed out.
Sighing, the fight left Chelsae. “All right, but we’re getting you some normal school supplies for note taking and what not. You can use this set for handing in assignments.”
Connor beamed. Maybe he could get that new dinosaur pencil set he saw the other day.
“Let’s go, peanut, I’ll treat you to some ice cream and we’ll get out of Wonderland here.”
“If this is Wonderland, what does that make me then?” Connor asked.
Chelsae grinned and ruffled her son’s hair. “The Mad Hatter.”
“Muuuum!” Connor whined as he tried to duck away, but failed miserably and his hair stuck out all over the place.
Pout firmly in place, Connor glared at his mum and Chelsae laughed as they carried their packages and headed towards the ice cream parlour for an afternoon snack.
Unknown to them, a wanted poster on a nearby shop watched them and then started to silently scream at the passerbys. Underneath, it read ‘Sirius Black’.
THE END.
Series: Connor Temple: Wizard
Author: Sparrow
Fandom: Primeval and Harry Potter
Characters: Connor Temple, Chelsae Temple (OC), Mr. Ollivander
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I do not own Primeval or Harry Potter; I just like playing in their ‘verses.
Spoilers: For those who have not read the Harry Potter books, I do allude to the books, but not to Harry Potter himself. It is a story about Connor Temple in the Harry Potter ‘verse.
Author’s Note: So another breakthrough in this series and I want to extend thanks to fredbassett for the wonderful beta. :) Also, with the spelling of Connor’s Mum name. I know the more popular spelling for it is Chelsea, but I’m giving a little nod to my cousin who spells it Chelsae and I just wanted the character to be a little unique, just like Connor. :D And I can't believe I forgot to add this, but major thanks to chibi_kaz for picking out Connor's wand in a comment fic when I first started posting this series. Series Archive Here.
Summary: The Temple’s are brought to Diagon Alley and Connor gets his wand.
“Muuuuum, c’mon!” Connor whined at his mother. “Hurry up!”
Chelsae Temple eyed her eleven year old son with a well worn look of patience and annoyance. Standing at 5”2’, with black hair and brown eyes, you could see the family resemblance between the two.
“I’m going the same pace I always go to,” Chelsae said with a hint of a grin.
“But, Mum!”
“No buts, Connor, we’ll get there soon enough.”
Pouting, Connor grabbed his mother’s hand and, to her amusement, started to drag her down the street.
They made it to The Leaky Cauldron in no time flat. Chelsae couldn’t see the pub since she was a Muggle, so Connor had to point it out several times before they went into the building.
It was dark, but warm and comforting.
The bartender, Tom, greeted them and led them outside the pub and showed them the brick wall. They watched as his wand tapped a series of bricks and the brickwork seemingly moved away like liquid. The scene that greeted them was awe inspiring.
“Welcome to Diagon Alley.” Tom smiled at them and pointed them towards Gringotts to get their money converted to Wizarding money.
Dealing with the Goblins freaked Connor’s mum out, but all Connor could do was exclaim how cool everything was and want to ride the carts down to the vaults, but since he didn’t have a vault in his name, he couldn’t.
But the Goblin did mention that when Connor turned 17 he could start his own Family Vault in accordance with the Magical Family Act introduced by the Ministry of Magic.
“Le Connor Temple Family Vault,” Connor stated aloud and looked at his mum. “It’s got a nice ring to it, hasn’t it?”
“Well ‘Le Connor Temple’ you have a few years to wait yet,” Chelsae teased her son.
Connor pouted.
“C’mon peanut, let’s go get your wand, then books and the rest of your supplies,” Chelsae ordered her son as she gently pushed him forward.
Biting his lip in anticipation, Connor quickly walked down the cobbled street with his mother and stood outside a shop called ‘Ollivander’s, Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.’
Glancing at the display case, Chelsae could see a display consisting of a single wand resting on a faded purple cushion.
Grabbing her son’s hand, she opened the shop’s door and entered.
Inside the walls were lined floor to ceiling with thousands of narrow boxes that Chelsae could only guess contained wands like the one her son needed.
“Hello?”
“This place looks so brill!” Connor gushed as he looked at the boxes. His eyes went wide as the box wiggled in front of him and dust flew into his face. “ACHOO!”
“Connor, stop touching things,” Chelsae hissed at him and looked around again. The whole shop was one allergy attack waiting to happen. “Hello?”
“Hello.”
Giving off a shriek of fright, she spun around, placing Connor behind her and came face to face with an old man. “Who are you?”
“Mr. Ollivander,” he said and smiled politely. “Welcome to my shop.”
Connor peaked out from behind his mum. “Are you the guy who’ll give me a wand?”
“I am indeed,” Mr Ollivander laughed. “Come, young sir.”
Looking up at his mum for the okay, Connor smiled as he got a tiny nod and followed Mr. Ollivander to a small squat stool. Told to stand on it, he did and then his eyes went wide as a tape measure started floating in the air.
“Now, which is your more dominant hand?”
“Right,” Connor stated. “But what does that have to do with anything?”
“It’s how I fit you for a wand,” Mr. Ollivander explained. “All wands are unique to the witch or wizard. The wand that is chosen will be the best fit for you, for the rest of your life.” Blue eyes bore into Connor. “It’s like holding a piece of your soul.”
Gulping, Connor gave a weak smile. “Yeah, well, let’s not take a piece of my soul out, all right?”
Mr. Ollivander merely chuckled as Connor and his mum exchanged looks. His mum twirled her finger up near her temple and rolled her eyes.
The tape measure danced all over Connor. Measuring his arms, legs, nose and everywhere else. Connor nearly went cross-eyed trying to watch.
Soon the tape measure had finished and it disappeared.
They watched as Mr. Ollivander disappeared deep into his shop and then reappeared carrying a slender box. Pulling the top off, he held the box out to Connor.
Eyeing his mum and the wizard, Connor’s hand shook slightly as he picked up the wand. He looked up at Mr. Ollivander. “Is that it?”
“Of course not! Give it a wave!”
Looking at the older man like he was crazy, Connor decided to humour the wizard and waved the wand. A jet of red light streaked out from the tip and set the potted plant on the corner of the front table on fire.
Shocked, Connor dropped the wand.
“Connor!” Chelsae cried out.
Quickly bending over, Mr. Ollivander grabbed the wand before it hit the floor. “Nope, not that one.”
“I am so sorry!” Connor gasped out.
“Happens all the time!” Mr. Ollivander called out over his shoulder as he disappeared into the stacks. He reappeared quickly with another slender box. He pulled out his own wand and, with a flick, a jet of water gushed out and doused the fire.
“Happens all the time,” Chelsae repeated.
“Well you’re not going to find your wand on the first try,” Mr. Ollivander placated Chelsae. “It has happened, but it’s very rare.”
“All right,” Chelsae nodded. “And the setting things on fire?”
“Oh, much, much worse has happened in this shop than a little fire,” Mr. Ollivander chuckled as he waved a hand at her and presented another box to Connor. “Dragon heartstring made with oak, nine inches, very strong and good for transfiguration.”
“Dragons are real?” Connor and Chelsae asked at the same time, eyes going wide.
“Ah, Muggles, I sometimes forget what we wizards view as real, you still see as fairy tales.”
Eyes wide and ignoring the ‘Muggle’ dig at his mother, Connor picked up the wand and gave it another wave. This time birds flew out.
The wand was plucked out from Connor’s fingers. “Let’s try another one.”
Connor groaned. He had a feeling he was going to be a tricky customer.
Two hours and many discarded wands later on, Connor sighed as he picked up yet another wand. And then what felt like a rush of energy flow through him, he let out a breathy exhale. “Whoa.”
“Excellent! Excellent!” Mr. Ollivander clapped. “We’ve finally found your wand.”
“What combination is it?” Connor asked.
“Ash and unicorn mane, eight inches, great for charms work,” Mr. Ollivander explained. “And the glow will go away in a short moment.”
“Glow?” Connor asked confused.
“You are definitely glowing like a light bulb,” Chelsae lightly joked as she ran a hand just over her son’s arm.
Looking down, Connor grinned like a maniac to see a soft orange glow over his arm and then frowned when it died down and then disappeared.
“Now, remember not to break our wand, because if you do, your second wand will never resonate with you as well as your first wand would,” Mr. Ollivander explained. “Also, you may want to look into a wand holster or something to carry your wand in. A Wizard must always treat the tools he uses with respect.”
Connor agreed quickly as he carefully put the wand into the front pocket of his jeans.
“How much do we owe you?” Chelsae asked as she brought out the small pouch of coins she had been supplied with frbyom the bank, out from her purse.
“That will be six galleons.”
The coins were handed over and the two headed out of the shop.
Books and supplies were bought and Connor watched as his Mum had a mini-rant at the store keeper on the subject of “the cruelty of having feathers plucked off birds to make for quills and they weren’t living in the dark ages and haven’t they heard of pens and pencils?”
They were quickly ushered out with that and a free quill and parchment set tossed at them. Connor watched as his mum fumbled the catch, but managed to keep hold of it.
“Well, I never,” Chelsae fumed and looked around for some sort of rubbish bin to toss it into.
“Mum, I may need that for school,” Connor pointed out.
Sighing, the fight left Chelsae. “All right, but we’re getting you some normal school supplies for note taking and what not. You can use this set for handing in assignments.”
Connor beamed. Maybe he could get that new dinosaur pencil set he saw the other day.
“Let’s go, peanut, I’ll treat you to some ice cream and we’ll get out of Wonderland here.”
“If this is Wonderland, what does that make me then?” Connor asked.
Chelsae grinned and ruffled her son’s hair. “The Mad Hatter.”
“Muuuum!” Connor whined as he tried to duck away, but failed miserably and his hair stuck out all over the place.
Pout firmly in place, Connor glared at his mum and Chelsae laughed as they carried their packages and headed towards the ice cream parlour for an afternoon snack.
Unknown to them, a wanted poster on a nearby shop watched them and then started to silently scream at the passerbys. Underneath, it read ‘Sirius Black’.
THE END.