(Ignorance is) Bliss

.2.

"Draco Malfoy." The blond boy held out his hand. Harry glanced at Professor McGonagall in the corner of his eye and reached forward, grasping the hand and shaking it the way he's seen couples looking for orphans shake Miss Daisy's hand.

"Harry Potter." He said, forcing his voice out. He wasn't a very big fan of talking, but he thought he should. People weren't treating him the way the people at the orphanage and at school treated him. It was nicer, it made him feel like they deserved more effort out of him than the others- the muggles, Professor McGonagall had told him they were called, the non-magical folk he grew up with who simply didn't understand how special he was. Professor McGonagall was very nice.

"Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?" Draco Malfoy/Blond Boy gasped, eyes widening and looking at him that could best be described with the adjective 'shock'.

He looked down at himself then back up. "Yes, I think so." He said.

"As in, the Boy-Who-Lived?" He was asked.

"Professor McGonagall told me that's what I'm called here." Harry said.

"They did say you were raised by muggles." Draco Malfoy stated. He said 'muggles' like it gave him a bad taste in his mouth, and his nose wrinkled up and his eyes squinted a bit in the corners. "What do you know about our world?"

"Nothing." Harry said. "But I like it so far."

"There's Quidditch, which is very important, and Hogwarts." Draco Malfoy said. "The most important thing is blood status, I'll tell you! Some people don't think so, but anyone who is anyone knows it is. See, we're wizards from wizard families. Wizards from non-wizard families are called mudbloods."

"I have non-wizard family." Harry said.

"But you're a Potter, so the good blood takes out the bad blood just enough. You're a halfblood." Draco said. "A halfblood from a very long lineage! The Potter's are as old as the Malfoy's!"

"Are family names important?" Harry asked.

Draco bobbed his head.

Harry brought a finger up to his bottom lip, rubbing slightly and wondering. "Are there any books on this?" He asked. Miss Daisy always said knowledge came from books, so did nearly every one of his teachers in one way or another.

"Definitely!" Draco Malfoy said. "You'll be able to find them at a bookshop, any bookshop of note.."

He nodded. "Thank you."

"Alright lad, you're done." The tailor said, smiling, her eyes bright and amazed. She helped him pull off his robes and folded them in her arms.

Harry thanked her and stepped down from the stool.

"See you on the train." Draco Malfoy said.

"Okay." Harry walked over to Professor McGonagall as the tailor was wrapped his robes with light blue paper.

When they were a few steps out of the shop's door, Professor McGonagall told him, "Do not listen to that boy, Harry. Blood isn't as important as people say." He nodded obediently, but he wondered who should be more trustworthy.

"Now, we only have a few things left." She said. "Books, your wand, and a familiar."

"Familiar? Like, a pet?" Harry asked.

"Like a pet. Hogwarts permits students to bring one familiar." Professor McGonagall said. "Owls, cats, and toads are most common, but we also permit rats and animals with a certifications of domestication though no larger than the common dog."

"So, I could get a puppy? Or a snake?" Harry asked. Though he supposed if talking to snakes wasn't acceptable, neither would be owning one.

"A small one." McGonagall said. "I would suggest an owl for practicability."

"What about a kitty?" Harry asked. "A long-haired, fluffy kitty!" He smiled at the thought. He wondered if cats were cuddly.

"Cats are acceptable." Professor McGonagall said. "You could borrow one of the Hogwarts owl if needed."

Harry smiled. There were rules against animals at the orphanage, but he bet he could hide a cat.

"We'll get your familiar last. Would you like to get your wand now?" McGonagall asked.

"Yes please." Harry said.

Professor McGonagall led him to a narrow, shabby-looking shop. "Ollivander's," She gestured to the sign of peeling gold letters that read 'Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.'. In the window, there was an old purple pillow where a wand lay on top. "Most British witches and wizards get their wands from him."

Harry nodded.

They entered the store and a bell tinkled as the door opened and closed. Harry looked to the wall of thousands of narrow boxes, piled strangely organized upon each other. He recalled a game some of the orphans would play, where you had to pick out random wooden blocks out of a small tower and place it on top without causing the tower to collapse. (He was never allowed to play with them)

An old man suddenly appeared and Harry blinked. "Good afternoon," The man greeted. "I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter."

"Hello Mr. Ollivander." Professor McGonagall said, holding out her hand. The man shook it.

"Fir, dragon heartstring, nine and half inches, a stiff wand." Ollivander said, smiling. "Working well for you, I suspect?"

"Of course." She said. "Mr. Potter is here for his wand."

Ollivander. "Yes, yes!" He clapped his hands. He pulled out a long tape measure. Harry tilted his head to the right. "Tell me, your wand hand, Mr. Potter?"

Harry blinked. "Um, I'm right handed." He said.

"Hold out your arm, that's it." Ollivander said. Harry obeyed. He began to take every measurement possible. Harry wondered if a wand length had to be tailored like clothes, or this was just a gimmick. "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."

"Why not anything else?" Harry asked. Ollivander stepped away from him, but the tape measure continued to take measurements.

"We Ollivanders have decided those are the three best cores to be used as wand cores." The man stated, going through the narrow boxes.

"Could other things be used as cores?" Harry asked.

"Just about everything." Ollivander said. "That will do!" The tape measure crumpled to a heap on the floor. Harry stared down at it. "Here you go, Mr. Potter, try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring, nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wand."

Harry grasped the wand and barely even waved it in a circle before Ollivander snatched it out of his hand. "No, no, here try this one." He gave him another wand. "Maple and phoenix feather, seven inches. Quite whippy."

He barely even raised the wand before it was taken.

Time passed by slowly, wand after wand was given to him before being taken away. Ollivander got happier and happier as he went through more and more wands, flipping through the narrow boxes and pulling wands out at random.

"Tricky customer, eh?" Ollivander grinned. "Not to worry! We'll find you your perfect match, just you watch. I wonder, why, yes..." He seemed to have a conversation without him, mumbling words and short sentences, before reaching up and pulling out a dusty box. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

The moment Harry took the wand, he felt warmth bloom around his fingers. He moved the wand in a quick circle and a stream of sparks came shooting out of the tip. Blue, yellow, purple, red, and green blended together into a sword of little lights that buzzed out after flying for a foot into the air.

Professor McGonagall stared, wide-eyed.

Mr. Ollivander cried and clapped. "Oh, bravo! Yes, very good...Oh, oh...But how curious, how curious indeed..."

Harry blinked. "Why is it curious?" He asked then winced, stepping back.

"Why, Mr. Potter, I remember every wand I've ever sold. Every single one! And it just so happens, the phoenix who gave the feather in your wand gave me a second one. Just one other. It's very curious that this wand chose you when the wand with the matching feather, why it's the same wand that gave you that scar." Ollivander said.

Harry looked down at the wand and gently rubbed his fingers over the handle.

"Thirteen and a half inches, yew." Ollivander continued. "Curious how these things happen, the wand chooses the wizards after all...I think we must expect great things from you Mr. Potter. After all, He-Who-Must-Be-Named did great things- terrible, but great."

"Ollivander, I do not think it's correct to refer to You-Know-Who's actions as great." Professor McGonagall spoke up.

The man chuckled. "If he was not a great man, he would not have been able to do the terrible things." He wagged his finger. "Great is not good, Miss McGonagall."

Harry tapped the (his) wand on his leg and smiled.

NOTES: I'd like to say I'm surprised I got twelve reviews, like goddamn. I hadn't thought the beginning was very good! So I thought I'd go ahead and try my hand at a second chapter. So, here's this mess. Idk how to write, obviously, so I apologize for any mistakes or suckiness. Review and tell me what you like, don't like, utterly despise, and love.