A beautiful sunny day - a rare occurrence indeed. Young Alexander was walking down the Diagon Alley with her sharp-looking, but soft-hearted mother. His granny too should have accompanied them on Alexander's unforgettable trip to complete the necessary school supplies, actually. However, the old lady's legs, as was often the case, ached from her infamous rheumatism. Despite his grandson's persistence, she, wisely, preferred to stay at home. Now, Alexander, alongside his mother, was going to the most famous store of the Alley, 'makers of the fine wands since 382 BC'. It was almost impossible to fathom that, once upon a time, his mother and his grandmother too, were in that store, waving their wands, smiling with a mixed feeling of curiosity and excitement. Now it was Alexander's turn to choose a wand - in fact, to use the terms correctly: to be chosen by a wand.

As they walked down the road, Alexander was flipping through the books they had just bought. These books contained information that he would soon learn, and that's exactly why they piqued his curiosity. Nevertheless, Alexander was compelled to put the books back in his bag when his mother gave him a warning look. She was right. Indeed, there could be many disadvantages to looking at them while walking. Among the simplest of these was bumping into someone and that would be quite an unpleasant event for a little boy.

When they finally reached the wooden door of the shop, his mother told Alexander that she would wait for him. She patted her son on the back sympathetically and wished him good luck. With grateful eyes, without speaking, Alexander answered his mother. He took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. The inside of the well-known store seemed tidy to his eyes. Almost chaotic, if one even dares to slander the famous Ollivander's reputation. Several wands, all boxed up, were stacked on the shelves, one after the other. As the sunlight hit the window, it became clear how much dust the shop was hosting. But there must have been a reason why the shop was famous despite its unpretentiousness. If he had attended a Muggle high school instead of Hogwarts, Alexander might one day realise that he has a deterministic worldview (too late!).

The messy-haired old Mr. Ollivander took a step towards him as soon as he noticed the young Alexander entered his store. After a few words of kindness and courtesy, he even told Alexander about his mother's and grandmother's wands. Blimey, what a memory though! Paralysed by all the stories the old wandmaker told in his deep voice, Alexander took his first 'possible' wand in his hands, grabbed it with determination, and waved. Nothing. Simply nothing. Nothing as much as nothing. Grumbling, the old man made his way to the back of his shop with short but quick strides. Soon after, he presented another wand to the young wizard. Alexander, with higher hopes this time, waved that one too. A dazzling beam of light. A gigantic beam of light that blinds the eyes. All in all: Failure again.

The shopkeeper's eyes gleamed at this very moment as if he had suddenly discovered something he had neglected for so long. He reached for a box three feet away and with an expression of self-assurance on his face, handed it over to Alexander. The young wizard waved this wand with complete obedience too as if he had never heard of the verb to object. But he could not be more pleased to have surrendered into the safe hands of Mr. Ollivander! Because as soon as he waved the wand, a feeling of confidence that he had never felt before in his life filled his whole being. It was as if this wand had suddenly become his companion, his confidant. "Exceptionally short," said old Ollivander, "you may not want to hear it, but these kinds of wands usually select those in whose character something is lacking." Upon hearing it, Alexander seemed a little upset at first. Then, when he thought about Ollivander's statement, he decided that he had caught a loophole in it. "Isn't everyone lacking something in their character, sir?", Alexander asked, "If you are brave, cowardice is lacking, if you are coward, then courage..." The old man raised his eyebrows with a slight smile: "Well, young man, length is not everything! Material matters too. Your wand was made of a walnut tree. That shows you have an exceptional kind of intelligence! I hope you have no objection to that too!" Alexander shook his head no with a somewhat mischievous smile. "And the unicorn hair," the wandmaker continued, "is a delicate core, Sir Harland. Very delicate indeed." Mr. Ollivander must have thought that much of an explanation was enough, that he clasped his hands. When Alexander thanked him and headed for the door, the old man finally said: "Whippy, Sir Harland, very powerful and hard to use, very selective of the wizard it chooses! I am sure that you will take great care of it!"