SAUNDERS NAPIER ━━━━━━━ ♔ ━━━━━━━ a voyage in order to be chosen

His father preferred to wait outside. In Elijah Napier's opinion, listening to old Ollivander's sermons about the quality of wands made from this or that tree would have made his day extremely unpleasant. Of course, witnessing that magical moment when his first and only son and heir would be chosen by a wand, a moment that everyone is able to experience only for once in a lifetime, was not particularly important for this man to make the sacrifice of enduring a conversation in which he was not even slightly interested. Saunders was not offended by it. A human being, even if he had not yet reached the stage called adulthood, was capable of acquiring a strong immunity to the effects of the treatment to which he was subjected in a regular basis.

He entered the old shop with small steps that were very proportional to his body size. A slight creak of the door forewarned Saunders of the initiation-like ceremony of which he would be a part within minutes. Saunders' sense of smell was keenly stimulated by the heavy odour of a variety of wood and varnish mixed together in the shop. With a smile as fragile as glass on his face, his eyes wandered around the shop in search of the staff master. Finally, an old voice reached his ears: "Welcome, bright young lad!"

"Thanks for the compliment, sir!" Saunders exclaimed with a juvenile badinage. "I really hope the wand that'll choose me today also sees me as a bright young lad." That caused the old man giggle a little bit. "We'll see that momentarily, mister...", he focused his piercing stare directly on Saunders' shiny face. "Napier, sir. Saunders Napier."

"Aha," the old wand master trilled, "It has always been an exciting occurrence to see the moment when a wand chooses to become part of your family!" Saunders was not particularly informed when it comes to his family's historical relationship with wands. Yet, he once overheard the story that his grandfather, Horatio, had tried different wands for a proper four hours before one of them finally decided to work for him. The best, at the moment, Saunders was able to hope for was not revitalise that memory.

The owner of the store, which was almost as ancient as the school he was about to attend, squinted at Saunders for a fleeting moment, then strode into a corridor at the back of his shop and returned with a small, dusty wand box. "I cannot claim that this wand is one of my most standardised works that has withstood the tests of time. I would say it's more of an artistic experiment.", the old man said with an obvious curiosity settled in his eyes. These sentences ignited a spark of wonder in Saunders' child soul. "How so?" he asked.

"You see," the old man began to explain, "This one has unicorn hair at its core. Quite common. Steady. Reliable. You can use such a wand until the very last second of your life. Yet... Unicorn hair is quite a moralistic core, and demands to be used for spells that can be morally justified." The wand-maker slowly caressed the wand, and continued: "With such a core, many wand makers, myself included, prefer a commonly used, equally reliable wood. But in the case of this wand, one might say I've been a bit experimental. I made this wand out of cherry wood after being inspired by the talented wand makers in Japan. Cherry, dear lad! Can you believe it? Combining unicorn hair with a wood that is very rarely used in wandlore and has such an interesting, strange power of its own... Cherry usually choose to be owned by a wizard who is after acquiring power by brute force or might, rather than cunningness or diplomacy. And the question is... How can one possibly convince the unicorn hair to co-operate with this power-seeking cherry wood?" He stared at Saunders with concern and curiosity once agian, taking his eyes off his 'experimental' piece of art. "My gut tells me maybe you can provide the answer. Come on, give it a wave!"

Deeply disheartened by the news, Saunders did not particularly fancy the idea that he would be favoured by this experimental wand, whose core and wood were far from being perfectly matched. Yet fate is above our wishes and is a God who does not take our fears into account.

When the boy's half-trembling fingers gave this inconsistent member of the wand world a wave, everything seemed to fall into its proper place. "Incredible! In one go!" said the old wand-maker, his eyes widening with the sudden realisation of the fact that his old experiment had paid off. Then he congratulated the Napier boy on his first wand with a rather incredulous expression: "Good luck with it."

Having paid the price, Having made his payment, Saunders stepped out of the shop and answered his father, with a shrug of his shoulders, when he asked him how it had gone: "Pretty normal, there was nothing interesting actually." His father was unaware of the smirk on Saunders' face.