Avalon opened the door to the small and dark shop, and a little bell rang to notify the owner of her arrival. There was nobody to be seen though, so Avalon took the chance to look around. Boxes upon boxes were piled up and reached the ceiling. Ava was afraid that it was all going to tumble down and bury her beneath it all. Everything was dusty - Ava was tempted to draw in it and leave her mark, but she was mature enough to leave it be. There was a chair as well, equally dusty; Ava assumed this was where she was expected to wait for the shop owner to arrive. But just as she was about to sit down, she heard footsteps.

"Miss Sylvester, I presume?" a male voice rang out, and an old man appeared from the back of the shop. "Yes," Ava said.  "I mean - how do you know, sir?" 
"You've got your father's eyes," was the response, "and your father was just here, asking if I'd seen you around." 
Ava's heart missed a beat. Her parents were here? Had they found out she had left the house that quickly? 
"Now, what is a Sylvester planning on using a wand for?" the man said. "You're good enough without it, I would think." 
Ava did not know if the man was joking or not, but decided not to ask. Not that it was necessary, because the man was already taking her measurements and rummaging through some boxes at the same time. 
"This might be a good fit," he said, but before Ava even touched the wand he took it away again. 
And so it went on for many minutes, until finally the seventh wand produced some silvery sparks. 
"Wonderful!" said the wandmaker, and Ava felt a sudden bliss. She had a wand now - her very own wand! This was all she had ever dreamt of. She paid the wandmaker and hurried outside to visit Flourish and Blotts - time to purchase all the spellbooks she could manage to carry, so she could practice them all once she got to Hogwarts!