Harry Potter, the boy who lived had a twin brother. But no one knew of him. The boy who was forgotten.
Harry and (Y/N) had lived with their parents for a year. But that changed when He Who Must Not Be Named uses an unforgivable curse in the presenc...
The next place we visited was a narrower building, a sign hanging over the doorway reading, Ollivanders: Maker of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
It wasn't anything extraordinary, the only item in the window being a thin wand that lay on an old purple cushion.
Harry pushed the door open, sounding a little bell. The walls were lined with narrow boxes, all precariously stacked atop one another, the whole way to the ceiling.
"Good afternoon!" An old man announced his presence, walking towards us from behind the counter. "Yes... yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you here soon. Harry Potter... you have your mother's eyes...," said the man.
Quickly, I pulled a small notebook out and took a note: Mother — green eyes. It made since if I really were Harry's brother.
"But you... I hadn't expected you...," he adds, moving closer. This guy didn't seem to blink. It was a bit unnerving. "Quite the surprise...," he trails off. "Anyway, which is your wand arms?" he asked the both of us.
"Er, I'm right handed," Harry answered.
"Same," I add, raising my right hand.
Mr. Ollivander goes on and on about the different types of wands as he measured us, but I didn't catch a thing. My attention was turned to the many boxes stacked against the walls. Could they all be wands?
My question was answered as soon as Mr. Ollivander scurried over to one of the piles and pulled several boxes out of the stack. Miraculously, none of the boxes towards the top fell.
Harry went first, looking incredibly silly while waving a stick around in the air. After a few more waves of a twig, Harry had his wand; thirteen and a half inches, yew, and a phoenix feather.
Mr. Ollivander quickly shoved a twig in my hand and looked at me with expectant eyes, so I gave it a wave, an over exaggerated flourish, sending sparks around the room.
He clapped his hands together with a gleeful grin on his face. "First try! How exciting! Twelve inches, yew and dragon heartstring."
Hagrid pulled a few of the gold pellets from his pocket and paid Mr. Ollivander, who shooed us from the building.
I checked on Dee real quick as Harry and Hagrid walked ahead, making sure my friend was alright when my name was called.
"(Y/N)! Com'over 'ere!" Hagrid motioned for me to keep up.
"Happy birthday, you two!" he announced, holding out oblong shapes covered in a cloth. He peeked under each one before handing one to each of us.
Harry and I lifted the rags to find a bird cage underneath. Two wide eyed owls looked up at us, Harry's was white, mine a big brown one.
"Tha's Hedwig," Hagrid said, pointing to Harry's, "an' that's Ace," he added, pointing to mine.
A wide grin spread across my face and I thanked Hagrid about a thousand times before he said we should get going.
As soon as we left Diagon Alley, Hagrid gave us two tickets. "Yer tickets to 'ogwarts. First o' September at King's Cross. All o' it's on yer ticket... .See yeh soon, Harry, (Y/N)."
Harry and I stepped onto the train, shoving our tickets in our pockets.
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As soon as we got home, Harry and I sheltered ourselves in his bedroom. We constantly talked about what we'd do as soon as we got to Hogwarts. Harry's plan was to make friends he could laugh and talk with. I didn't know what I wanted to do. I suppose learning magic would be fun, but I wasn't too sure about it. But I did promise Harry I'd stick with him and help him make friends.
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The day of leaving for Hogwarts, Harry woke at five o'clock in the morning and violently shook me awake.
"(Y/N)," he half whispered, half shouted.
"Hmhinha," I groaned, my wrist limply shooing him away.
"(Y/N)!" Harry practically yelled, shaking me harder.
"I'm awake, I'm awake!"
"It's the day!"
"You sound like you're getting married, mate," I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "Who's the unlucky gal?"
He only rolled his eyes and started getting changed out of his pajamas. I only had to pull some jeans and a shirt on since I slept in my boxers.
Harry's uncle drove us to King's Cross and dropped us off, walking us to the platform. I looked at my ticket and read, 'Platform 9 3/4'. I only saw 9 and 10.
"Have a good term, you two," he sneered, walking off, leaving us to our own devices.
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