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Disclaimer: Do I look like I own Harry Potter/?! Yes, you say? No I Don't! J.K. Rowling owns /Harry Potter and I have used these characters without permission and for the sole purpose of enjoyment; I make no money.

/Prologue/
On June 5th it rained. The streets were oddly empty, except for one car slowly making its way down the street. The driver turned and glared at the backseat's occupant: "Are you sure it's this way boy?"
The boy nodded and pointed, "It's right there."
The driver looked around and saw nothing. "Are you sure?"
Again the boy nodded and said, "You can drop me off here. I'll send the letters every three days so that they don't bother you."
"See that you do" was the terse reply. The car stopped and the trunk popped open. "Hurry up and don't get the trunk wet."
The boy left the car, closing the door behind him. He went to the back of the car and removed his things. He set them down on the sidewalk next to the car and went back to the door: "This is goodbye forever." He nodded at the car's other occupants grabbed the cage from the middle seat and closed the door, this time locking it. He was free.

Some one knocking on the door startled Tom, the innkeeper, from his nap. He jumped up from his seat by the fire and opened the door; a very wet young man stood there and smiled.
"Hello," he said. "Do you have an extra room?"

/Chapter one/

Harry was wandering around Diagon Alley. He had woken up from his not so restful sleep to the desire to walk the alley. He felt as if he were looking for something, but he didn't know what.
He stopped at the signpost denoting the particular sector of the alley he was in and gazed about, searching. His eyes fell on the faded gold letters of the Ollivanders Wand shop and he was overcome with the urge to enter, so he did.
The bell above the door rang as Harry walked in. He looked around: the shop hadn't changed at all in the six years since he had last entered. He sat down in the chair and waited.
"I was wondering when I'd see you again, Mr.Potter."
The voice startled Harry and he jumped out of the chair. "Hello," he said politely to the slightly stooped man. "I...I don't know why I'm here"
Ollivander smiled. "You came for a wand."
Harry looked at him confusedly. "I already have one though."
Again the old man smiled. "Your wand needs a mate."
Harry just looked at him, trying to process what he had just heard.
Seeing the younger man's confusion Ollivander elaborated: "All the powerful Warlocks have two wands and every wand has a mate." He paused. "I seem to recall that you were quite the tricky customer. The core of your wand limits the number of choices and there are only so many wands with a phoenix core, so that narrows the number of wands possible considerably-that, doubled by the fact that the phoenix who donated your core was an ancient, splits the choice by half." He paused, gazing amused at Harry's confusion. "That makes the number of choices around two hundred wands."
"Two hundred?" Harry asked incredulously.
"Indeed."
"What did you mean by 'all warlocks have two wands'?"
"I said, 'All powerful warlocks have two wands,' and you are undoubtedly a powerful warlock."
Harry doubted it, but he decided to go along with it for now. But something was confusing him: "What's a warlock?"
Ollivander gazed at him, surprised. "No one has ever told you?"
"Told me what?"
"Told you about your family, about your /Families/."
"What do you mean?"
Ollivander looked shocked. "No one's ever told him." Harry looked at the old man confusedly as he mumbled to himself. He waited for a few minutes before interrupting the old man's thoughts. "What did you mean?"
Ollivander seemed to collect himself. He looked as if he was on the verge of bursting and he said to Harry, "Stay here for a bit." With that he turned and disappeared into the back of the shop.

Ollivander almost ran to the fireplace, lit the fire with an incantation, threw in the floo powder, and shouted, "Dumbledore's Summerhouse." He then stuck his head into the fire and waited. He called out, "Albus! Get down here NOW!" He watched the door open and took satisfaction in seeing the other looking ashamed.
"What is it Marik?"
Ollivander snarled, "Do you know who is in my shop at this moment?"
"No, Who?"
"HARRY JAMES EVANS BLACK-POTTER, AND DO YOU KNOW WHY?"
Dumbledore was definitely looking ashamed but he also looked curious. "Why?"
"TO GET HIS WAND A MATE AND HE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW IT!!!"
Dumbledore looked shocked, "But a wizard hasn't required a mate for his wand in more than 300 years."
Ollivander looked at him scathingly. "With all of his family connections, how could he not? He's the heir of four houses and you weren't even aware that it was a possibility? You didn't even explain to him that it might be possible."
Dumbledore was looking decidedly uncomfortable. "Uh...it never came up."
Ollivander looked even angrier, if possible. He lowered his voice to a dangerous whisper "Why didn't you explain it to him when you told him about his family?"
The other man remained silent, and Ollivander had no problem interpreting his silence: "Do you mean to say that the boy has no knowledge of his own blood?" Dumbledore could see the rage in the wand maker's eyes.
"Um...well, you see...there was really no time-" He was cut off.
"Albus we will discuss this later. Right now I am going to tell that boy about his family-families-and then I will tell the boy why his wand is in need of a mate, and for now on you will hide nothing more from him. Is that clear?"
Dumbledore nodded quickly and watched as the man's head disappeared from his fire. He had not planned on telling Harry about his family until the boy graduated from school, but if Harry needed another wand, then Dumbledore was more than happy to let Marik tell the tale. He shuddered as he recalled the wand maker's anger and it was then that he realized that he should probably worry about their upcoming "talk."

Back in the front room of Ollivanders shop, Harry was getting nervous. "/What did he mean by warlock? And why do I need two wands? And why/...."
The young man's thoughts were interrupted by the older man's reentry. Harry jumped out of the spindly chair and asked quickly, "Mr. Ollivander, what's a warlock? I've heard it used before, sir."
Ollivander looked at him for a moment before replying. Harry was a bit unnerved by the way Ollivander seemed to be considering him and was startled when the old man started speaking.
"Call me Marik, and if it's all right I'll call you Harry." He waited for Harry's nod of affirmation and continued, "Since it's obvious that you know nothing about your families, or apparently even about your name or even about our kind, I will explain everything." Seeing that Harry was about to ask a question he answered before the young man could even open his mouth, "And I'll explain the need for two wands.... Do you want to get your wand first or do you want me to tell you your story?"
Harry considered. "Which will take longer?"
"The story."
Harry nodded, "I...I need the wand; you can tell me my story after, okay?"
Ollivander nodded and smiled. "The blood is strong in you." He then walked to the shelf closest to them. "All right, let's try this one."

A/N: What's a warlock? What wand will he have? What's with the lengthened name? Find out in the next chapter! Please Read and Review!