The Boy Who Never Was - A Harry Potter Fanfic

The air inside Ollivander's Wand Shop smelled faintly of a large different variety of wood shavings.

It was dimly lit, with shelves stacked to the ceiling, filled with wand boxes of every imaginable size and color.

The place hummed with an energy that made the hairs on my arms stand on end.

The elderly man who had greeted us earlier now stepped forward, his expression as unreadable as a spell in an ancient tome.

"I am Garrick Ollivander," he said, his voice smooth yet somehow unsettling.

His intense gaze flicked between Hermione and me before settling on her.

"Ladies first, I believe."

I took a subtle step back, content to observe.

There was something about the old man—perhaps the way his pale eyes gleamed in the dim light—that made me feel as though he could see straight through me.

The feeling wasn't pleasant.

Hermione, blissfully unaware of my unease, stepped forward eagerly.

Garrick produced a measuring tape that immediately sprang to life.

It began measuring Hermione from head to toe, including some rather odd places like the space between her fingers and the width of her nostrils.

I watched with fascination as Garrick muttered to himself and consulted a parchment filled with strange notations.

While he was distracted, I discreetly stored a couple of random wands from nearby shelves into my inventory.

My ability to store things at a distance was a game-changer in situations like this.

Garrick eventually disappeared to the back, returning with a narrow wand box.

Hermione tested wand after wand, each attempt resulting in minor magical mishaps—sparks, puffs of smoke, or faint cracks.

Meanwhile, I quietly added a few wand servicing kits and holsters to my collection.

Garrick remained blissfully unaware.

Finally, Hermione found her match: a wand 10 ¾ inches long, made of vine wood, with a dragon heartstring core.

It emitted a shimmering white light when she waved it.

"Ah, supple and perceptive," Garrick declared with a smile.

"A wand for a keen mind and vision."

Hermione let out a blush but beamed a smile non the less, clearly delighted.

Then it was my turn.

I stepped forward, suppressing the urge to fidget under Garrick's piercing gaze.

"If it's all the same to you, Mr. Ollivander," I said carefully,

"I already have my measurements from Madam Malkin's. I'd prefer to skip the measuring process."

His brow lifted as his lip seem to twitch for a second before he nodded to me.

"Very well. Which is your wand arm?"

"My right hand."

With a thoughtful hum, Garrick disappeared into the back once more.

As soon as he was out of sight, I resumed storing wands at random.

I didn't need to move a muscle—just a flick of focus, and items vanished into my inventory.

When Garrick returned, he paused mid-step, his expression puzzled.

His eyes swept the room as though searching for something.

"Is everything alright?" Professor McGonagall asked, her tone crisp.

"Ah, yes," Garrick said, shaking his head.

"Just... an odd feeling." He dismissed it with a wave of his hand and approached me with a wand.

This reaction had me sweating hard inside. 

Luckily I had tremendous amount of training when it came to keeping a poker face at the orphanage.

"Try this. Eleven and a half inches, ash wood, dragon heartstring core."

I grasped the wand and gave it a wave.

A sudden surge of power exploded from the tip, and to my utter shock—and everyone else's—the roof of the shop was banished clean off, leaving us exposed to the open sky.

Hermione gasped.

Garrick gaped.

Even McGonagall's eyes widened in disbelief.

...........

..........

..........

"Well," Garrick said faintly,

"that was... new."

He calmly and carefully took the wand from me and set it to the side.

The next hour was a blur of wand testing.

Unlike Hermione's simple mishaps, my attempts were nothing short of catastrophic—walls cracked, shelves toppled, and at one point, the floor trembled ominously.

The Grangers and McGonagall eventually decided to finish shopping for books while I remained behind with Garrick, who seemed more excited than frustrated by his failure to find me a suitable wand.

"We'll meet you at Flourish and Blotts," Mr. Granger said gratefully.

Garrick waved them off cheerfully.

"Don't worry. I won't rest until we've found the perfect wand for young Mr. Kingston."

Another hour passed, and I was no closer to finding a match.

Honestly, I was wondering if the Grangers had left me behind considering its been an hour since I had heard from them.

Feeling a bit impatient, I decided to try something different.

The next wand Garrick handed me, I gave a wave—but simultaneously used my storage ability to whisk away the hundreds of rejected wands scattered around the shop.

From Garrick's perspective, it must have looked as though the wands had simply vanished into thin air.

.........

...........

..........

Ollivander had a pale complexion and I could swear his eyes looked like they had lost their shine.

"Oh dear," he muttered.

"We should probably stop here. If this continues, I may just lose all of my stocked wands."

I grimaced apologetically.

"Sorry about that."

He waved me off.

"Not your fault."

Yes it was I thought to myself.

"Let's try something unconventional." he continued.

Garrick disappeared downstairs and returned with a tray filled with what looked like ordinary sticks.

"Place your hand over the tray and see if any of these call to you."

Fifteen minutes later, I suddenly felt a subtle but undeniable pull.

I picked up a stick that felt natural in my hand, almost as if it had become an extension of my body.

"Ah," Garrick said, his eyes gleaming.

"Chestnut wood. An intriguing choice."

He set the stick aside and brought out a second tray containing three different core materials: dragon heartstring, phoenix tail feather, and unicorn tail hair.

"Place your hand over each and tell me if you feel a connection."

I did as instructed. The unicorn tail hair tugged at my senses, but something felt incomplete.

"It feels like it wants to be part of me," I said slowly,

"but something's missing."

Garrick's eyes lit up with excitement.

"Very curious. Wait here."

He vanished downstairs and returned with an ornate box filled with a bewildering array of ingredients.

"Try again," he urged.

I placed my hand over the box, and to my surprise, I felt a pull from what appeared to be an empty corner.

"There," I said, pointing.

Garrick's face went pale.

"But... there's nothing there." I continued.

There is nothing there but why does my magic keep pulling me to that little corner.

I stared at the spot as though willing something invisible to materialize.

"Curious," he murmured.

"Very curious indeed."

He straightened and gave me a small smile.

"Please come back tomorrow. I'll have your wand ready by then."

I nodded, grateful for the reprieve.

As I looked around the shop one last time, I couldn't help but notice the extent of the damage: no door, no windows, a missing roof, a shattered table, several stair panels gone, and countless vanished items.

Ironically, not all of it was my doing.

Some things had simply vanished into thin air.

But at least I had stored plenty of merchandise, including hundreds of wands.

Satisfied, I left the shop to join the others at the bookstore.