Having completed their banking for the morning, the rest of the day was spent on a whirlwind shopping tour. Between the new, crowded environment of Diagon Alley, Susan's bubbly enthusiasm, and the revelations at Gringott's, Harry spent much of the afternoon in a haze. They stopped at Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where he was forced to endure what felt like a lifetime of being measured for robes, watching Susan modeling different robes, resisting her attempts to make him try on robes, and trying (and failing) to ignore the smirks directed at him from Aunt Amelia and Auror McGreery. He had left the store with more robes than he would have ever thought necessary. Even that was nothing compared to the mountain of robes Susan had purchased, some of whose colors Harry had never even heard of. He was certain that at least some of them had been made up on the spot (what on earth was 'periwinkle', and why did she also need one called lilac even though they were the same color?).

After narrowly avoiding death-by-clothes-shopping, Aunt Amelia had guided them to the next shop on their list: Truman's Trunks, Tents, and Travel-bags for Trusty Travelers. There, Harry and Susan each bought an upgraded Hogwarts trunk and a leather schoolbag from the excitable Mr. Truman, an elderly wizard a Hawaiian shirt underneath a red and gold kimono. Harry enjoyed it considerably more than clothes shopping, as Mr. Truman entertained them with stories of his many travels and adventures while he prepared their items. Harry's trunk made made of beautiful mahogany, with charms to make it waterproof, fireproof, and cold- and heat-resistant. It was locked with a padlock as well as a password charm at his insistence. Inside it was expanded to hold twice its expected volume. His schoolbag, a sturdy leather thing, had similar charms, except without any passwords. Harry was so pleased with Mr. Truman's work (and interested in his stories) that he ordered his first purchase with his new personal funds: a backpack made from real dragonhide. The Hebridean Black skin was smooth and tough, and inside Mr. Truman had managed to carve enough runes to expand it to three times its outer size. Being made of dragonhide, it was naturally resistant to both water and fire, and would even reflect minor hexes and jinxes.

They made a brief stop for lunch after loading all of their robes into their new trunks – which took Susan at least ten minutes – and Harry was introduced to the concept of having ice cream for lunch at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. Even the normally stern Aunt Amelia had caved in to Susan's pleas for ice cream, the dual arguments of "it's my birthday" and "but James has never had it!" finally breaking her down. After lunch a sugar-crazed Susan had led them on a high-speed run through stores to pick up cauldrons, potions ingredients, collapsible telescopes, herbology supplies, parchment and quills, and finally schoolbooks.

Harry and Susan had a fun time exploring Flourish and Blott's, looking through the many strange books. Harry was particularly revolted by the "Harry Potter Adventures" book series depicting his many supposed accomplishments. According to the author, Harry had already tussled with trolls, flown on a dragon, battled banshees, outwitted a warlock, and, worst of all, "escaped safely from the Muggle world." He was half-tempted to buy some of the books on hexes, jinxes, and curses to use on the author of that terrible series. He was also sorely tempted by a book on magical camping spells, while Susan had become engrossed in a section about magical creatures. Eventually Aunt Amelia dragged them away from the books and ensured they stuck to the required books on the first-year list. She did add a few extra Defense Against the Dark Arts texts, to ensure that they could begin to train to defend themselves (Auror McGreery agreed that the Quentin Trimble book they were assigned was a good start but was lax on the practical side of things).

It was late afternoon by the time they made their way into Ollivander's (Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C., according to the sign). The store looked shabby, but as they crossed the threshold Harry felt the tingle that he now recognized as wards. The ones in the shop were far weaker than the ones at the bank, but they felt older and somehow more alive than any he had felt before. They were in a room full of thousands of narrow boxes, piled from floor to ceiling on rickety wooden shelves. Reaching out with his magic, Harry started when he felt someone's presence coming from a dark room behind the counter.

"Good afternoon," an old man's voice greeted them softly. Susan jumped next to him and grabbed his hand. He gave her a steadying smile as he returned the man's greeting.

Mr. Ollivander stepped into the light, bearing a long tape measure and a few boxes of what Harry assumed were wands. He was an ancient-looking man, with long grey hair and a scraggly beard. His robes were so faded and worn that Harry could hardly identify the original color.

"Ah, Miss Bones," he said, smiling kindly. "Welcome, welcome. It feels like only yesterday that your parents were in here buying their first wands. Hazel and unicorn hair, ten and three quarter inches, for your mother; your father favored his oak and dragon heartstring, twelve inches, very sturdy, yes, yes… a terrible thing, what happened to them. Good people, both of them. A great loss for us all."

"Um… thank you?" Susan said uncertainly. Harry knew they still had both wands in the house, as mementos. It was traditional in some families to pass on old wands down the generations. Susan had already tried her old family wands, without finding a match. She had been upset, but matching to an heirloom wand was the exception rather than the rule.

"And welcome, Mister… ah," Ollivander turned towards Harry. His silvery-blue eyes flicked toward Aunt Amelia, to the suddenly-alert Auror McGreery, before returning to Harry's green ones. Harry wasn't certain how he had been recognized under his Glamour Charm, especially when no one was supposed to know he was living with the Bones's.

"Yes, I remember your parents as well. Ten and a quarter inches, willow and unicorn hair, your mother's wand. Excellent for charms work. Your father was better with transfiguration, and his wand chose well. Mahogany and phoenix feather, eleven inches, pliable. The wand chooses the wizard, after all."

He clapped suddenly, the sound echoing in the silent store.

"Ladies first!" he called.

Susan nervously stepped up to the counter.

"Wand arm out," Ollivander instructed. She held out her left hand, and he began measuring her all over. Fingertip to shoulder, wrist to elbow, shoulder to feet, around the arm, across the palm… As he did so, he began speaking.

"Every one of our wands has a unique combination of wood and magical substances, Miss Bones. No two wands are quite the same, even should they be made of the exact same types of wood or magical substance. No two trees or magical creatures are the same, after all. The wand chooses the wizard, and you will never get ideal results with another wizard's wand."

"That will be enough," he said aloud, and the tape measure, which Harry now noticed was working on its own, crumpled to the ground.

"Now, let us try this… maple and phoenix feather, nine inches, nice and springy."

Susan picked it up gingerly, but he swiped it out of her hand almost immediately.

"No, no. Here, hazel and unicorn hair, thirteen inches, very bendy."

She managed only a short wave before he snatched it back again.

"Closer that time. I think… yes, try this. Elm and unicorn hair, eleven and a half inches, rather inflexible."

Susan picked up the wand and gave it a little wave. A shower of golden sparks shot from the wand, casting little shadows all over the shop. Harry clapped and cheered, while Susan beamed.

"Bravo! Very good, an excellent match. A dependable wand, loyal to its ownder. Congratulations, Miss Bones."

Susan waved her new wand excitedly, more sparks spilling out onto the wooden floors. Aunt Amelia gave her a proud hug, while Auror McGreery settled for applauding politely.

"Now, for you, Mister…Bones," Ollivander said. Harry glanced at Aunt Amelia, who gave him an encouraging nod.

He stepped up to the counter and held out his right hand.

"Yes, that's it," Ollivander said. "Now, something tells me you may be a tricky customer, young sir. Not to worry, I've never failed to find a match for a customer in all my years."

Harry still worried that he would be the first. His thoughts were evidently visible on his face.

"Now, now!" the wandmaker laughed. "We'll find your match, never fear. It's the wand that chooses the wizard, of course, but something tells me your match is in this room right now."

Ollivander began the measuring process, but Harry noticed that while the measuring tape did its work he could feel the man's magic reaching out and probing him. It was a bizarre, somewhat uncomfortable feeling. He suddenly felt very vulnerable, almost naked. He shivered, and the probing ceased abruptly.

"Well, well," Ollivander said slowly. "How curious."

"What's curious?" Harry replied, somewhat defensively.

"Magic sensing, at your age. Not something I've ever seen in a first-time customer."

"Is that bad?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Bad?" the wandmaker said incredulously. "Heavens, no! It is a wonderful skill, all too rare these days."

"Other people can do it?" Harry was excited. Perhaps someone could teach him how to improve.

"Oh yes," said Ollivander. "It is a necessary skill in wandcrafters of all kinds. It is usually a skill that develops only after many years of study. But I have heard stories of it developing after periods of great stress. Perhaps there is some truth to the rumors after all."

"So can I still use a wand?"

"Of course, of course. Wands are but tools. The magic is always there."

"What if someone could do magic without a wand? Could they still use one?" Harry tried to sound casual, but was fairly certain he was failing spectacularly.

Ollivander paused in his gathering of boxes. He turned his silvery eyes onto Harry intently.

"Many wizards think that magic comes from within the body. That wands are simply projectors, to focus the magic. But we wandmakers have always known this view to be wrong. Magic simply is, Mr. Potter. Magic cannot be created, it cannot be destroyed. Spells are simply a form of the magic that surrounds us all. Wands are a way of… easing our communication with the magic around us. Those who can see the world as it truly is may communicate with magic directly, without requiring a wand. In answer to your question, any witch or wizard can use a wand. The question you should ask instead is, do you need to use a wand?"

"I can't do a lot of spells that I've seen, though," Harry argued.

Ollivander shrugged. "Wands are a focus, of sorts. Many of the finer types of magic are much easier with such a tool. I know of few things than could not ultimately be done without a wand, if one has the skill and talent for it."

Harry thought for a moment.

"Can you do magic without one?"
Ollivander smiled secretively. "I can. Magic is involved in the wandmaking process, and wands can be rather jealous. Using a wand is not recommended."

"Is it possible to use both?"

"At once? I do not know. In general – of course. Think of wands like eyeglasses. You can wear them to enhance your vision. If one wears them all of the time, you might think that it is impossible to see without them. But you and I both know it is not. You can put them on and take them off at will, with no ill effects."

Harry had made his decision. "If I can find a wand, I'll take one."

Ollivander smiled again. "Let us get to it."

Harry tried out wand after wand. Ebony, hawthorn, redwood, oak; unicorn hair, dragon heartstring, phoenix feather. None seemed to work. Harry often did not even need to touch them before pulling his hand away in disgust. Despite his difficulties, Ollivander seemed to grow more excited with every wand he tried.

After a small mountain of wands lay discarded on the desk, Harry started growing frustrated. The hope that had built up by speaking with the wandmaker seemed to have left him. Maybe he wasn't destined to have a wand. In one last-ditch effort he simply sent out a sharp pulse of magic with only one goal in mind: to find his match.

To his amazement – and that of the rest of the people in the store – a wand suddenly burst out of its box and flew across the room. Harry felt a burst of warmth as soon as it flew into his hand, and a burst of scarlet and gold sparks burst from the wand's tip. The faintest notes of phoenix song echoed around the room, causing the hair on the back of Harry's neck to stand on end.

"Oh wonderful! How splendid! Very well done. A finer match you could not ask for."

"It's amazing," Harry breathed.

"Holly and phoenix feather, nine and three quarter inches. Nice and supple. A loyal wand, suitable for powerful magic. I think we can expect great things from you, my boy."

"Thanks," Harry replied absently, still reveling in his new wand's affection. It felt like he had been reunited with a long-lost friend.

"A word of warning," the wandmaker cautioned. "The phoenix who gave his feather for that wand gave one other feather. Your wand's brother… yew, thirteen inches… I'm afraid that it was your wand's brother that gave you that scar on your forehead."

Harry touched the faded scar on his head faintly.

"Yes, I'm sorry to say that I sold the wand that did it. A powerful wand, used for terrible things. A tragic shame."

Harry stared at his wand thoughtfully. After a moment, he shrugged it off. After all, he knew a lot about having terrible relatives. The wand seemed pleased that he was not upset with it, if such a thing was possible.

"Treat it well, and it will treat you well in return. Both of you," Ollivander turned back to Susan. She jumped again at the sudden attention.

"That will be seven Galleons each."

Harry paid scant attention as Aunt Amelia added a pair of leather wand holsters and some wand-maintenance kits before settling the bill. The sun was beginning to set by the time they headed back to the Leaky Cauldron to Floo back to the Ossuary. They all had a quick dinner before going to bed early, tired out by the long day and the many revelations their trip had uncovered.