After getting his money and thanking Grallruk, Harry left Gringotts, satisfied and with a bag full of gold coins. "So," he hissed quietly, "that went well. Where next?" Kiearah seemed to think for a moment before replying, "Madam Malkin’s, the robe maker." And so they set off towards Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions.

~•~•~•~

"Thank you, Madam Malkin," Harry called over his shoulder half an hour later, after a fairly uneventful fitting. He took out his list again. Looking around, he noticed Flourish and Blotts just down the street. "Books next, you reckon, Ki?" he whispered to his scaly friend. After she gave a subtle nod, he set off towards the bookshop.

A bell sounded somewhere in the shop as he pushed the door open. The air was thick with the smell of parchment and books, and Harry felt himself relax slightly. "Hello, dear. You’ll be getting your first-year books, correct?" said the elderly woman behind the counter. Harry nodded absently as he looked around the shop. "And some extra reading."

His eyes wandered to the advanced curses section, and he started to wander over. "Now, now, my dear, how about we get something a bit more appropriate for your age? These are N.E.W.T. level curses," the lady told him from over his shoulder, holding up Charms for Dummies. Harry grimaced slightly. "No thanks. I’ll have a look here."

Although slightly disgruntled at being shrugged off so easily, the woman returned to the counter and grabbed a box of first-year books. "If you’re so sure, dear...." With the woman gone, Harry was free to explore, and explore he did.

He had never seen so many interesting books in his life! There were curses and jinxes. His eyes were wide as he read every title, picking a few up as he went. By the time he finished looking, his arms were laden with books he couldn’t wait to look at.

Potions Moste Potente and The Enchanted Blade: Combat Magic and Enchanted Weaponry were just a few that caught his eye. There was even a book about magical snakes! He made it to the counter, where the old woman looked less than pleased with his book choice.

Nevertheless, she packaged them up and sent him on his way. Back in the magic-filled alley, Harry once again looked at his list.

~•~•~•~

A couple of hours later, after getting his stationery supplies, his potion ingredients, and his cauldron, Harry was standing outside Eeylops Owl Emporium with a slightly disgruntled Ki. "I still don’t get why you have to have another pet! Aren’t I good enough?!" Harry sighed, his eyes softening, "Ki, you’re my best friend, but... you can’t carry mail. I need an owl for purely functional purposes. It’s not like I’m getting a rat!"

"You’d better not... I’ll eat it if you do," Ki threatened. It wasn’t an empty threat. Harry pushed his way through the heavy oak doors and was immediately greeted by the smell of birds. Like, a lot of birds. A quick look around proved that Harry was right; there were hundreds of owls. Barn owls were perched to the left, horned owls to the right, and a hundred other types. Harry wasn’t looking at them, however. He was looking at one particular snowy owl.

As if in a daze, Harry slowly walked over to the majestic owl, laughing slightly when it nipped his fingers. "I' be careful wi' tha' one 'f I were you, rea' feisty gi'l 'er." Harry jumped at the sudden voice. Turning around, he saw a grizzly man who appeared to be the owner. His boots were muddy, as though he had just returned from a farm of some sort.

He wore a kind grin on his face, the sort that made up for his rough exterior. "Hello," Harry started politely. "I’m looking for an owl. What one might you recommend?" The man chuckled. "don' matta' wha' I' recommend you've foun' yourself a familiar."

"A... familiar? Sir?"

"Call me Elias. A familiar is an animal tha’s bonded ta’ thei' witch or wizard from birth. The witch or wizard in question’ll be drawn ta’ the animal. It seems this ‘ere snowy owl’s yer familiar."

Harry was overwhelmed. This creature, this owl, was... bonded... to him? He turned to it—her—admiring the way the light dappled along her pristine feathers. She hooted happily at his awe. "I un'erstand it can be a bit overwhelm’n’. Tell ya what, take this book, migh’ help ya out." Elias told him. Harry took his eyes off the majestic bird that was his familiar, instead turning to the book he’d been given.

Familiars: What They Are and How They Work.

~•~•~•~

After picking up his robes at Madam Malkin’s, Harry’s arms were laden with almost everything a first-year wizard at Hogwarts would need. This was all rather heavy, so he decided to drop it off with his uncle before continuing his shopping.

"Hello, Uncle," Harry called as he rounded the corner into the small, dingy pub.

"You ready to go then, boy?" Vernon said gruffly, already standing up from his chair.

"Not quite yet, Uncle. I’ve still got to get my wand."

Vernon sat back down in a huff, muttering something Harry couldn’t quite hear but was sure was very rude.

Suddenly, his demeanour changed completely. He started to smile and... laugh? Harry spotted Tom the bartender pointing his wand at Vernon. The old man gave him a wink, mouthing "Cheering Charm." Harry nodded, making a mental note to learn that spell later.

He set down his bags and his new owl by Vernon’s chair and started to make his way out of the pub. As he left, he couldn’t help but notice the name carved on the arm of the old chair: Rubeus Hagrid. Harry wondered absently who that was as he once again entered the magical alley.

~•~•~•~

As Harry walked through the enchanted streets of Diagon Alley, he realised how far it really was to Ollivanders. In hindsight, he probably should have gone there after Gringotts. Oh well. It was then that he looked around—actually looked—saw all the magic, the spells, the different street food being sold... it was all so... mystical...

Harry was jolted out of his musings by bumping into someone. "Sorry, I didn’t see you," the other boy mumbled, his face reddening as he scrambled to adjust the strap of his bag. A toad slipped from the side pocket and landed with a soft thud.

"Trevor!" he said, hurriedly picking up the toad. "Gran’s going to have a fit if I lose you again."

Harry’s gaze lingered briefly on the scene. “Careful with your pets,” he said, his lips twitching upward briefly. He then turned away, finally reaching his destination.

Once the boy had hurried off, Harry stood in front of an old, rickety shop. Peeling gold letters above the door read, Ollivanders, since 382 BC. He sighed. "This is it, Ki. My wand. Finally, after so many years of waiting... it’s finally time."

He heard a hissing laugh in response. "Don’t you get all sentimental with me, Haz. Just open the damn door."

He laughed and pushed open the thin wooden door.

It was a small room inside, empty except for a spindly chair in the corner. Harry felt as though he had entered the strictest library possible, like some angry librarian was about to come round the corner and start shushing him.

The back of his neck prickled as he looked around. The very air seemed to hold a sort of magic that no one could see but everyone could feel.

"Ah, Harry Potter. I wondered when I’d see you here..."

Harry jumped slightly at the soft voice behind him. How did he know his name? He hadn’t even introduced himself yet.

"Hello, Mr Ollivander. I’m here for my wand."

"Right to business, then, yes? But... oh... let’s see here...." Ollivander swept past the counter to stand in front of Harry. He reached out a long, pale finger, and Harry suppressed a flinch as he touched his scar.

"And that’s where... I’m sorry to say I sold the wand that did it..." he whispered softly. "Thirteen and a half inches, yew, a very powerful wand indeed... If I’d have known what it was going out into the world to do...."

It was at this moment that Ki let out a protective hiss.

Ollivander stumbled back in surprise. "Dear me, quite a friend you have there!"

Now Harry was just getting impatient. "Yes, she’s very nice. Can I get my wand now?" he asked, his tone clipped and impatient.

The frail wandmaker laughed. "Directive, just like your father. He favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches, pliable. Well, I say your father favoured it; it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

"But alas, back to business. Which is your wand arm?"

Wand arm? How on earth was he supposed to know that?!

"Dominant hand," Ki whispered.

Ah, that made sense. "My right."

Ollivander took a silver tape measure and measured his arm, around his head, and even the space between his ankles for some reason.

Eventually, once it seemed he was happy, he went back around the counter and carefully picked up a box from one of the walls.

"Right then, Mr Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible."

He opened the box to reveal a thin, white wand.

"Go on, give it a wave," the man prompted as Harry carefully handled it. Harry did as he was asked, but almost immediately Ollivander snatched it out of his hand.

"Right, not that one...." He looked at the many boxes again. "Try this. Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy."

Harry tried, but he’d hardly raised the wand before it was once again snatched out of his hand.

Over and over again, Harry tried wand after wand. Ollivander seemed to be looking for something, but Harry wasn’t quite sure what. Ollivander didn’t even seem discouraged as the pile of wands grew larger. In fact, he seemed rather happy.

"Let’s see... I do love a tricky customer... hmmm... oh... I wonder... yes... what about this one?"

"Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took it in his hand and gave it a wave through the air. Nothing seemed much different from his other tries—a slight tingle at most—but weirdly, Ollivander looked satisfied.

"Oh good! Very good! Bravo! That is the wand for you!"

Harry frowned. "No."

Now it was Ollivander’s turn to frown. "No? What do you mean, no?"

Harry almost flinched as he remembered the pain that used to come after those words.

He shook his head, setting down the ordinary-feeling stick on the counter. "I mean, this isn’t my wand. Or, at least not quite. Let me try another one."

"Try another one?! You can’t try another one! This is your wand!"

He paused for a moment. "Or... at least he said it would be...."

It seemed he was talking to himself, so Harry chose to ignore it.

"No. I want. To try. Another. Wand."

Ollivander looked scared as Harry got angrier. Of course, what Harry didn’t know was that, even without a wand, he was making the windows rattle.

"I—um—well—uh—I suppose y-you can try a-another core?" he stammered.

Harry calmed almost immediately. "I suppose that’ll do."

The windows stopped rattling, and once again the shop was calm. The only thing that had changed was the people inside it. Because now Ollivander knew: Harry James Potter wasn’t one to mess with.

~•~•~•~

Harry hovered his hand over the dragon heartstring on the table in front of him as he’d been instructed. He sighed. No warmth, no special feeling, nothing.

"N-not this one then..." Ollivander spoke timidly, as though scared to anger Harry again.

Harry tried a unicorn hair next. Once again, nothing.

"Not... this one either...."

And so Harry tried the phoenix feather, and... nothing.

"Wait," he said, confused. "None? None of the cores work?"

Ollivander looked frightened but also... intrigued?

"Well... there is one more we could try...."

He made his way to a small table in the corner. Shakily, he opened the old drawer, taking out a box. He came back to Harry and carefully put the box in front of him.

"T-this is a... a thestral hair... the rarest of wand cores... the most powerful too...."

He opened the small box, and Harry had barely touched the intricate black strand inside when an intense warmth flooded through him. He could feel the magic radiating around the room. This was a very, very powerful core.

"I’ll take it," he said once he’d regained his senses.

"Put it in that other wand, with the holly wood."

Ollivander nodded weakly, his face pale. "It—it’ll be ready in an hour."

"Good. Now, goodbye, Mr Ollivander," Harry purred, walking towards the door. He turned round as he put his hand on the old doorknob.

"Oh, and I think we can keep this between us, right?"

All Ollivander could do was nod as Harry pulled open the door and walked back into the bustling streets of Diagon Alley.

A/N
Did I make a cover for one of the books Harry bought at Flourish and Blotts?

Yes.

Is it more work?

Yes.

Do I care?

No.

Anyway, here it is!