The Boy: Brandon Dursely

Chapter 4: Diagon Alley

Direwolves are rare pets, since they choose the one who will own them. To see if you are chosen, extend a hand towards the cage, BUT NEVER GRAB THE CREATURE.

Brandon could guess what the Draco boy did. It perhaps wanted a direwolf, but the poor pup didn't want him. So, the boy grabbed the creature and it may have grabbed a bit hard that it made the creature scratch his finger.

Brandon looked at the pup again, despite Vernon saying, "Let's go, Bran," and the pup looked back. Something inside Bran stirred. The black pup had midnight black eyes, with a hint of bluish tinge on them. It was like looking through a marble. Brandon extended a hand unconciously and the pup, seeing this, nuzzled his hand.

Brandon smiled. He found his pet! The pup whimpered a little when he withdrew his hand to turn back to his parents, watching the event in amusement.

He smiled broadly and exclaimed,"I want him, please!"

---

The pup yapped excitedly as Brandon let it out of the cage and carried it. It nuzzled close to Brandon, as if saying how much he liked him. The shopkeeper smiled at the boy.

"See that you give him attention, child, or he will withdraw from the bond. Now, these are short handbooks to guide you through his first year at home and how to adjust as he grow up. I see that the boy intends to bring him to Hogwarts, so I would like you to fill this form of admission to classify the pup as 'bonded'."

It was Petunia who was hesitant, but Vernon stayed calm. They listed the pup, unnamed as of the day, and used Brandon Dursely instead of Harry Potter for avoidance of suspicion.

The shopkeeper nodded and they paid for his kennel, food bowls, his leashes, his soap for bath and his food and everything the pup might need. The shopkeeper adviced them to give him milk since it's still a pup.

Brandon murmured his thanks and put back the pup into his carrier and smiled.

He had a pet! Just what he wanted.

--

Their next stop was a rather curious shop. It was Ollivander's, Maker of Wands since 382 BC. The Durselys knocked and opened the door with the bell clanging.

"What have we here?" A quaintan with an intelligent look on his face with quaint eyeglasses greeted behind the counter. "A good day, Sirs, Madame"

Brand could tell that the man was Ollivander.

Petunia smiled at the wand-maker, "A wand for the boy, please."

The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow, "A Firstie, hmm? Come."

Brandon stood and went hesitantly.

"Welcome, Harry Potter," Ollivander whispered, peering with wise, aged eyes from his glasses. "Thought you could hide yourself, didn't you?"

The man smiled at the eleven year old. Brandon felt like backing out. How did Ollivander know? His parents had been concealing his scar for years. Even before knowing he was Harry Potter, they took extra measures in protecting him.

"Tut tut, there is no need to be so afraid," Ollivander assured. Bran didn't feel better; he only felt as if Ollivander could see every bit of him, beyond his soul, "Now come, stretch your hand."

Bran was wary of the man, but he wasn't one to back up so easily. Not knowing what elese to do, he did as Ollivander instructed. A tape measure went hovering over his arm and Ollivander smiled, "This might be tricky."

Brandon didn't say anything.

"Hmm. Try this. Dragon scales are its core and 10 inches is its length."

Brandon held it. It wasn't right. He shook his head.

"No? What about..." He rummaged through another. Then another, and another and another. Until they tried eleven wands all in all. Ollivander smiled at him all the time and he felt uneasy being under tha man's stare for so long.

"Hmm, I wonder," Ollivander muttered out loud, long, wrinkled fingers tapping the counter. With a wave of his hand, the wands tried by Bran went back to their prior slots on the wall. Ollivander continued to hum and murmur to himself as he went to one of the farthest and highest stand and pulled a black case.

Bran waited patiently, and upon coming back, he was presented with a beautiful, newly furnished wand. Brandon couldn't help but reach out and the wand went to him almost immediately.

"Brilliant, Mr. Potter," he said in a low voice, "Holly, eleven inches, phoenix feather. I sold it's twin brother to a man who did great things. They were terrible things, but they were great, nonetheless. I think we may expect the same from you, young Harry."

Ollivander's eyes never left him for a second, and Brandon blinked.

"That would be 12 galleons."

"Is..." He finally said, "Is there any pouch, or thing to- to put it in then, sir?"

Ollivander smiled wider, "You mean to say a wand holster, I say, young Potter. You may chose a color."

"Black and blue, if you please," Bran answered, shuffling from feet to feet. "That one," he pointed to a black and blue soft dragonhide pouch on the catalog the man showed.

"Hold out your sleeve, then," the old wizard instructed yet again.

Obediently, Bran did as he was told and Ollivander magicked the holster of his choice and slid the wand in it.

"What of my other clothes, sir?" Bran qiestioned, thinking that it may be a waste of money to pay for the wand and the holster full price but unable to use them efficiently, "Or my robes?"

"You may ask Madame Malkin to make a lasting charm for you then, but for the meantime, I charmed it so that it may transfer to your clothing along with the wand," Ollivander stated. Upon Bran's parents asking how much it would cost, the wandmaker smirked, "That one's for free," he then winked an eye at him. Bran thanked the wand-maker.

Petunia paid for their purchase, and thanked Ollivander omce more. Bran then carried his pet, buried himself in the pup's fur and was more than ready to exit the shop,eager to get the old wand-maker's prying eyes off him.

As the family headed out, Ollivander waved a hand as if to say goodbye. The door closed but the uneasiness Bran felt being under the man's stare went with him.