Boxes piled on top of each other on shelves with their own order in the disorder; that was Donald's impression of Olivander's wand shop. It was like a shoe store... if they had shoe shops in the middle ages.

"Ah, welcome... I don't believe I recognize you, yet I felt the darkness shiver as you walked in."

"I'm Donald sir," the boy said.

"Donald who?" Olivander responded sharply. "Might I ask?"

"Oh, sorry sir, Donald McCollum."

"Ahh... well you are not the first McCollum to ever walk in here my boy, but you are the first who has ever actually needed a wand I trust?"

His father told him that he didn't want to come inside; he had come once before but Olivander refused to give him information about who owned the wand left at the scene of his mother's murder. Olivander pulled Donald out of his thoughts by placing a stick in his hand

"You look like the athletic sort, try this: dogswood with a dragon core." Donald's confusion paralyzed him. "Well, give it a wave!" Olivander said the words as if he had repeated them thousands of times. The boy did as he was told and the wand started to bark at him like an angry dog and he felt it pulling back to his face. "Put it down! Put it down!" the wandmaker chuckled. "Dogswood's not a good match hmmm... how about this: elm wood with a phoenix core?"

Nothing happened when Donald tried to use this one. He tried waving it rapidly a few more times.

"No, no, no!" Olivander pushed Donald's arm down and motioned for him to put it back in the box. "You'll put an eye out like that and I've run out of spares! The wand chooses the wizard, Donald, and that one may have ignored you now, probably because you aren't pureblood, but I've seen plenty of wands like this won by all sorts of blood types. No matter, let's try this one, 35 centimeter willow wood with unicorn hair."

Donald waved this wand and as it lit up, it felt as though music was playing to the two in the store. A feeling of healing and goodness overtook Donald, as if his mother's spirit was holding him in her arms.

"There it is, that wand has chosen you! Yes of course Mr. McCollum, the willow recognizes your need for healing and the unicorn hair, well, you see, it produces the most consistent magic, though it needs stronger wood, but it also has a natural resistance to the dark arts... if it gets mistreated the unicorn hair could die. Your father won't understand this, but the wand used against your mother was rotted so much and the unicorn core within had died. It was unrecognizable in its final condition and there is no way to match it to whoever it belonged to."

A tear fell down Donald's cheek, speechless at the new information.

"Well, the wand was attracted to you for your energetic nature as well; don't get lazy or it may be wooed by another."

"I won't," Donald looked at the wand as if making a promise directly to it. He made the purchase from Olivander before walking back out into Diagon Alley to find the rest of his school supplies.