|| REWRITING ||
Clara Potter has always been much more serious than her mischievous younger brother and his unruly band of friends. For much of their youth, the Marauders would do anything in their power to get under the Potter girl's skin, but none...
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"MUM, WHAT IF THEY DON'T PUT ME IN GRYFFINDOR?" the small brunette boy asked his mother as the Potter family made their way through an extremely crowded Diagon Alley.
"James, our family has been in Gryffindor for generations, there's absolutely nothing to worry about." Euphemia replied to her son, holding his hand tightly so he wouldn't get lost in the crowd.
"Don't forget Clara was nearly a hatstall, dear. What a controversy it would have been to have the family's first Ravenclaw." Fleamont teased, laying a hand on his daughter's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze as he walked behind her closely.
"We would have loved her just the same if she ended up in Ravenclaw, just like we will love you no matter which house you are sorted into, James. I promise." Euphemia assured her son as she held the door to Ollivander's Wand Shop open for her family.
The eccentric old man quirked up as the family entered, "Ah, yet another Potter ready to go to Hogwarts I see! It was only last year young Miss Potter received her first wand, yes? Has it been treating you well?"
"Yes, sir." Clara responded shyly.
"Yes good, good. Pear, 12 inches, dragon heartstring core, and an unyielding flexibility. What a special wand. Dragon heartstring can be quite temperamental, but I never had a doubt you could handle its power, I see great things in your future, my dear." he nodded at the girl before bringing his attention over to the youngest Potter who was so eager to receive his wand, he was practically jumping up and down with excitement.
"As for you, Mr. Potter..." the elderly wandmaker looked James up and down as if he were somehow scanning his entire being to find what he believed to be the perfect match, "Let's try this first."
Mr. Ollivander grabbed a gray box from the shelf and blew the dust away before opening it and presenting it to the boy, "Fir, 10 inches, dragon heartstring core, with a quite swishy flexibility."
James reached up and grabbed the wand, when he held it he didn't feel anything special and was quite confused as to how he would know for sure if it was right for him or not. Not knowing what to do, he looked up at the wandmaker for approval.
"Give it a wave." Ollivander encouraged.
As James clumsily waved the wand, the lantern on the counter glowed brighter and hotter before the glass suddenly shattered causing Clara to jump and stumble back into her father.
"No, no, not that one." Ollivander shook his head as he quickly took the wand from the boy and retreated back to the shelves behind the counter, "Give this one a go. Mahogany, 11 inches, phoenix feather core, with a pliable flexibility."
The elderly wizard presented a maroon box to the boy who grabbed the wand eagerly. It felt different almost the second his fingertips touched the wood. Golden sparks flew out of the wand immediately and Mr. Ollivander gave a delighted laugh.
