It had been about two months since Elspeth's first accidental magical mishap, and one month since she'd received her letter from Hogwarts announcing that she'd be joining their first year students in the fall. Her mother was practically beside herself with joy and pride, which was a welcome change from the usual energy she brought to moments of change which tended to amount to "Oh god oh god why is this happening how are we going to deal?" Elspeth's dad, being a muggle, was supportive and happy for his daughter to participate in such a time honored tradition - though having gone to state school he was a bit sad to see his eleven year old heading off to boarding school so soon. He'd secretly been happy that she hadn't shown any magical prowess in the hopes that it meant that she would continue to live with them until she was 18. Even with those dreams dashed, though, he was excited for a chance to experience someone picking out their wand for the first time, having not done so himself. So, her mother circled August 1st with a big red marker on the calendar on their fridge, and Elspeth counted down the days.

Growing up the child of a wizard and a muggle had always given Elspeth a sense of freedom. Unlike kids from one or the other type of family, she'd been able to explore baking by muggle means with her dad and brewing potions with her mom. Neither world seemed especially foreign, and it meant that she often learned a few ways for doing something. Sure, she didn't have a wand or the use of magic yet, but her dad was an avid camper and taught her how to light fires, build small shelters, and garden plants without magical means. Her mom found this charming, her hard working husband using so many quaint techniques for keeping himself busy when she could do all of these things in half the time. He'd come in all sweaty from weeding the garden and her mom would swoon and they'd get all gross so Elspeth would look into her book and ignore them as best as she could. It was a way of living that allowed her to learn to appreciate the benefit of all ways of doing something.

So when the day finally came to go to Diagon Alley to pick up all of her school supplies for the next year, Elspeth was most excited about the chance to look through some new books and maybe get a scoop of her favorite flavor of ice cream at Florean's. She knew, of course, that she would be buying her wand, but buying the wand just seemed like a step between her and learning spells. So when her mom stopped everyone, just before they stepped into their fireplace to floo over to London, Elspeth was a bit confused.

Her mom looked down at her, with love practically radiating out of her. "I'm just... so excited for you Elspeth. Getting a wand is such an important part of every witch and wizard's life. Sure, you'll be heading to Hogwarts in a month but today... today is really the start of your magical journey." She wrapped an arm around Elspeth's bony shoulder and held her tight before handing the bag of floo powder around.

One at a time they walked into their fireplace at home and then arrived at a fireplace in The Leaky Cauldron. Naturally, because she'd put off showing magical acumen until the last minute, Diagon Alley was an absolute mess when they arrived. Everyone seemed to be showing up to purchase their things at the last minute before school started. Which meant that the grubby pub Elspeth had come to associate with odd shopping trips was packed to the brim with people. There were older wizens shouting about mushroom prices being too high. A few sketchy looking characters appeared to be having an intimate conversation over an old copy of The Daily Prophet, Harry Potter's mugshot looking disturbed above the fold. But mostly there were parents and their children, carting owls, piles of books, and more than a few long beautiful boxes stamped with Ollivander's seal.

Normally, on a trip to Diagon Alley, her family would stay in the Cauldron for a little bit at first so that Elspeth could drink some hot cocoa first. Shopping took a lot out of her, having to be out and about in front of so many people. Her father would sit with her and peruse a copy of the Prophet, marvelling at the headlines and how inept muggles must be to not notice such large events happening just under their noses. Her mother would head to Gringotts to withdraw the necessary wizarding coins without them, for which Elspeth was generally thankful. She found the goblins at Gringotts to be a little upsetting, with their long fingers and harsh gazes. Only once had she ever been into the bank, as a very small child, and she swore that a goblin behind the counter was staring daggers directly into her soul before her mom rushed her out muttering about how rude and improper their kind were.

Today, though, it didn't look like they'd be able to stay for a hot cocoa. Dad practically had to elbow a half-giant on the way to the door (he apologized profusely while looking very small in comparison. The large man didn't seem to notice as he was looking over the menu thoughtfully.) Finally they made their way into the alley itself, which provided little more walking space but at least a little more air. Owls were screeching from newly purchased cages while a woman stood outside a shop haggling with a silver bearded man over the price of some kind of jeweled scales. Elspeth's eyes got wide as she stared into the window of a potions shop at a large opalescent vial, the contents of which appeared to have a glittery sheen. Her dad grabbed onto her hand, "Come on pumpkin. I don't wanna lose you in this crowd! There's way too many people out today to be dawdling - Oh! Wow, would you look at that." He stopped at the next window over, which had a large display of various rare animal ingredients including dragon scales and unicorn horns. "Knock me over, I still can't believe dragons are real."

"Now now, honey, come on. We have way too much we need to shop for today and we can't get stuck looking at dragon scales. What would you even use those for?" Her mother gave her father a skeptical look.

He shrugged his shoulders, "I mean, their dragon scales. Why not own them?"

Her mother sighed, but betrayed a soft smile, "Maybe because they're 30 galleons a pop and we have a whole list of books we have to buy."

"30 galleons! Are they mad?" Elspeth giggled and held his hand as they all walked through the throng toward Gringotts. Her dad leaned over and whispered in her ear, "I still have no idea how much a galleon is. Don't tell your mother."

"I heard that."

Her mom walked through Diagon Alley with such a sense of purpose that Elspeth always found powerful. For a woman who rarely left the house except to deliver newly repaired magical artifacts, she seemed to come alive when they were in a more magical setting. She knew when they were being ripped off on the price of astrolabes, could tell the difference between various dried forms of magical kelp, and was always able to point Elspeth to the best books at Flourish and Blotts. There was something about her that lit up when she was around other witches and wizards. In so many ways, Elspeth wanted to be like that when she went off to Hogwarts. Cool, calm, completely in control.

Before they could make it all the way to Gringotts, though, Elspeth felt herself get pulled toward the side of the street unexpectedly. Her mother had grabbed onto her dad who was still holding her hand and like a very bad game of red rover they snaked quickly in front of an immaculate looking crooked building.

"Geez honey, I get that it's crowded, but you could at least warn me before you pull me over to check out some deal." Her dad rubbed his shoulder making a comically hurt face.

"Oh, there's no deal here. There's no line! Look! We need to get in now. If we go to the bank first, who knows how many people might jump in first!"

Before Elspeth could look up to see where she was, she felt her mom pulling her inside.

The bell on the doorway tinkled, echoing throughout a shop front that was muffled from the hustle and bustle outside. It was also much darker, and her eyes took a moment to adjust. There were hundreds, no, thousands of boxes lining the walls. Small, long boxes... Oh my gosh. We're going to get my wand? Already?! Everything had happened so quickly that it was only just hitting Elspeth that she was about to become acquainted with something that would act as an extension of her arm for the rest of her life. Her sternum began to pulsate with her quickening heartbeat as she looked around the space. Dad was over in the corner, pulling boxes down and reading their labels. Every time he saw a new magical creature he would shake his head in disbelief. Her mom was nowhere to be found. Where had she gone off to? The store wasn't especially large, and there didn't appear to be anywhere to hide...

Elspeth walked around a bit aimlessly at first, not sure what she should be doing. Although she'd heard about her mother's first meeting with her wand, she'd never been present for anyone getting one. Was there a test she'd have to take? Maybe she was supposed to just, pull a box off the shelf, and that box would be destined to be the perfect wand for her. She shot her arm out randomly toward the wall, grasping at a long thin box and pulling it gently from the pile. The lid was dusty, and so she blew on it gently to reveal the Ollivander's seal on top.

"It's a beauty, ah?" a creaky old voice just above her left shoulder whispered.

Elspeth squeaked in surprised, instinctively tossing the wand upward and dropping down to the ground in a small ball. "Oh dear!" she heard from above, along with some shuffling. As she opened her eyes she saw Mr. Ollivander, standing up on the tip toes of one foot holding on to the wand she'd just tossed in one hand, and the box lid in the other - having caught it out of the air . He was puffing a bit, this feat of dexterity seemed to have taken the wind out of him. Very delicately, he slid the lid of the box back onto the wand, slid the whole package back onto the shelf, and wiped the sweat off his brow.

"Well, my goodness. You're a slippery one aren't you?"

Elspeth slowly stood up and brushed her overalls with her hands, trying to swipe away some of the dust bunnies that had rained down in the kerfuffle of her jumpiness. And then, she was just standing there, looking at the wandmaker himself who was quietly, in turn, looking at her. The original Mr. Ollivander had retired some time ago, after the war. His son, who had been apprenticing under him for some time, took over the family business. But this Mr. Ollivander was no spring chicken himself, with a large silvery puff of hair he appeared to be just as much of a mad scientist as his father had been, but with the kind eyes of a man who could see deeply into the souls of the people who had come to purchase a new wand.

His eyes pierced through Elspeth just then, as well. There was a urge to squirm, she felt a bit vulnerable in an uncomfortable way with him and would have very much appreciated a chance to run out from between the shelves just then. As the feeling grew, though, she felt her mother's elegant and long fingered hand wrap over the top of her shoulder. "Ah, Mr. Ollivander. So happy to see you," her mother's voice betraying the fact that while everyone could be excited about finding a wand, very few people were ever genuinely excited about having their persona's dressed down by the Ollivander gaze.

Mr. Ollivander continued to look at Elspeth for a moment before breaking eye contact and smiling up at her mom. "Rebecca! Lovely to see you as well. 10 1/4 inches, dragon heartstring if I remember correctly?"

Her mother smirked, "You and your father have always said that like there's a chance you'd remember wrong but you never do."

"Ah, well. It's important to leave room for error," he turned away and began looking through the many boxes up on the shelves, "But it's hard to forget such an important moment in a person's life. Especially for you, Rebecca. Why your mother was so proud of you when you got your wand -"

Elspeth felt her mother's fingers tighten a bit, reactively, on her clavicle. She'd never heard anyone talk about her grandma before, and it was clear that her mom felt some kind of way about the mention of her. So grandma was still alive when mom got her wand, huh... Before she could decide whether to ask her mom any further questions, though, Mr. Ollivander had returned with a box.

"Cherrywood, 9 1/4 inches, phoenix feather core. It's a bit firm in it's form but gets the trick done," he passed the slender wand down to Elspeth.

Wait, was this it? She'd been given her wand? Just like that? No test, no trial, no discussion. It seemed a bit anti-climactic to her. This was the first time she'd ever held a wand meant for her before. She'd snuck her mom's a few times, when she was really little, but had gotten an ear beating for it (what with using another person's wand, especially as a child, being so dangerous). For years she'd imagined what this moment would feel like, maybe a warm rush or a tingling in her arm or... something. But right now, she didn't feel anything. The wand felt no different than holding a particularly smooth stick in her hand.

Her parents (dad having just found his way back to them and watching along with excitement, if also the same bafflement that Elspeth was currently feeling) gave her reassuring nods as she looked to them. In a rare moment, for her, she wished they weren't there watching her. Normally her parents brought her a sense of comfort and safety, but right now she felt a bit silly and didn't want an audience of cheerleaders looking on as she held the wand daftly. She opened her mouth to say something, but thought better of it. If she said that to them, they'd both get so sad and she didn't want them to be sad. She sighed. Best to just get this all going then.

"Um... what do I, do now? Do I have to test it? Make sure it works, or..." Elspeth looked at the wand, wondering if there was a tab she needed to pull to get it started.

"Hmm, well if you have to ask," he snapped the wand out of her hand and replaced it with another one before she'd had time to process what had just happened, "This one is 11 1/2 inches, walnut with dragon heartstring."

Again, she felt nothing. No rush. No warmth. Just a very nicely sanded stick in her hands. A quick look over to her parents showed that they were still watching closely, her mother staring at her with intense concentration. What am I supposed to be doing? Just as she thought that, the wand was gone. Replaced again by Mr. Ollivander.

"9 1/8 inches, maple, phoenix," his phrases were clipped as he appeared to be pulling more and more boxes off of the shelf in anticipation of her wands not working.

Why was he anticipating that? Was she being difficult? Was there a chance that none of these wands would work for her? Is that why her mom looked on the edge of her seat, because she knew there was a chance that no wand would choose Elspeth?

"9 inches, hornbeam and unicorn hair," Mr. Ollivander swiped the previous wand away and handed her another one to hold.

As soon as she'd wrapped her fingers around it, she felt it. Like a warm jet of water, rushing from her finger tips up her arm into her core until her whole torso felt like it was full of a bright light. Elspeth almost dropped the wand, instinctively trying to stop the powerful feeling that happened seemingly out of nowhere. But her body wouldn't let her, her fingers holding on firmly to the grain as she felt - well she couldn't quite describe it. It was as if she'd been missing part of her body her whole life, but had never noticed. Suddenly, they were reunited and she felt whole, again. For the first time, of all the wands she tried, she felt compelled to do something with this wand. She gave it a gentle wave, a small looped circle. Sparks flowed from the tip for a moment toward the ground before vanishing into the air, like snow on a slightly too warm day.

"Ah, very interesting," the creaky old voice said. Elspeth blinked, having forgotten Mr. Ollivander was there at all. She looked up at him to find that he was still gazing intensely at her, "You know, this wand has certainly chosen you for a reason. No doubt about it. 9 inches, hornbeam, unicorn hair. Excellent for divinations or legillmency."

Elspeth looked back over toward her parents. Her dad was shooting her two thumbs up, not knowing the proper decorum for such an occasion. Her mom had tears in her eyes, which was not at all what Elspeth had been expecting. Had she been chosen by a bad wand?

"Oh, mom. I'm sorry! Did you want me to have a different wand? Cause I could try to swish a few more, I'm sure that one of them would-"

Her mom shook her head, no, and smiled the kind of smile that also filled Elspeth with a deep warmth. "No no, Els. I'm just. I'm just so happy for you. This is where so much begins, with finding your wand. It's a really magical moment, no to uh," she laughed a bit at her terrible joke before walking over and enveloping Elspeth in a big hug. "I'm just so happy for you," she whispered into her ear.

Elspeth hugged her back, losing herself in a moment of familial bliss. She'd never known that her life had been missing anything, but in this moment she felt like she was really a part of something bigger than herself. It was exciting and exhilarating and also relaxed and comfortable, like going on a trip to somewhere you love but haven't seen in a long time. The hug became a little tighter, and she looked up to see her dad had gotten in on the action to.

"I have no idea what's going on, but I just love you two so much," he said, causing her mom to chuckle again.

As they walked out of the store, her wand properly boxed and placed in a tote bag, she heard the bell tinkle. The world came rushing back to her, those throngs of people still hustling and bustling about, shouting prices and searching for their newly purchased cats who'd slipped away in the chaos. It didn't feel nearly as overwhelming, though. For the first time in her life, Elspeth felt like she knew what she wanted to do. She wanted to become a great witch, and make her parents proud.