Melody entered the dark shop cautiously with her mother, Emily, at her side. Shelves filled the room, stacked with long, thin boxes with small labels written on them. Melody looked up at Emily, who smiled down at her reassuringly. Melody heard a rustling in the corner and turned back to see an old man with wispy white hair on a ladder, placing more boxes on top of some other ones.
"Mr. Ollivander!" Emily called.
Melody watched nervously as the man swiveled down the rows on his wooden ladder towards her, peering at her with pale blue eyes. But he clapped his hands together and looked up at Emily.
"Ah! My dear Emily! Or Mrs. Rathburn, now, is it?" He beamed, "hawthorn, veela hair, eight centimeters, sturdy, rather good for Charms, yes? And this must be your daughter!"
Melody squeaked meekly as the man turned to her with a warm smile. She thought of him rather odd, and felt a bit uncomfortable under his gaze. She wondered if all other wizards were like this, the only ones she knew were her parents. She brought her gaze anywhere other than Ollivander's, from the shelves to the desk in the corner, and the candle on top of it, as well as five boxes stacked untidily.
And so the man hobbled over to the desk and opened the first box, which contained a dark wand that was polished nicely, gleaming in the candlelight. He handed it to Melody, who took it in a sweaty hand and waved it around a bit after her mother's nod. Silence. She wasn't sure what she expected to happen, but couldn't help feeling disappointed, and was struck with a rather horrid thought.
What if nothing happens? Melody fretted, what if none of them work and he sends me away? But the wand maker didn't flinch, he snatched the wand from her hand and replaced it with a shorter one, made out of light wood and a round end. She waved it around, discouraged when nothing happened once more.
And on and on the wands came and went, until finally the wand she held in her hand swished with her delicately and produced several red sparks out the end. Heart pounding, Melody beamed up at Emily, who was smiling right back. She turned back to the old man and he packed the wand away in the box, but handed it to Melody.
"Twenty seven, one centimetres, chestnut wood and dragon heartstring. Congradulations Miss Rathburn, here is your wand," Ollivander nodded.
Melody was over the moon with excitement, but her mother took the box from her grasp and held it by her side. She simply shrugged, she was too happy to get upset over little things. And with that, the mother and daughter bid the wand maker farewell and left the shop, off to buy more supplies, for the wand truly had chosen the witch.