[August 2024]

A young boy sheepishly walked through the streets of Diagon Alley, trailing slowly behind his mother. Noah hadn’t been here in a while, so it was interesting to see how much it had changed since he last visited. For example, a couple signs seemed to have began to decay slightly, and the wooden board outside of Flourish and Blotts appeared as if they had sort of changed hue. Nevertheless, what bemused Noah the most was the fact that Ollivanders, the shop they were just outside, hadn’t changed one bit. He had never entered inside the shop, yet it still held a mysterious aura which would never cease to get his heart pumping.

“Come on Noah, which shop should we go to first?” Eleanor Kang, his mother, asked whilst looking down at a paper list that a representative of Hogwarts had given her. “It says here we need to get… a wand, a remembrall, cauldron… wait, what is a remembrall? I must’ve forgotten!”

She laughed at her own joke. Noah just stared, shuffling away slightly to avoid people thinking he knew her.

“Oh, come on. ‘Remembrall’? ‘Remember’-all? Must’ve ’Forgotten’? Tha- that was good. Don’t deny it.” She pouted, Noah just looked, almost disappointed, “Okay, whatever you say ‘Sir Noah’.”

Noah remembered that on the Supply List letter, it said ‘Sir Noah’. He begged that Azzy didn’t see it, or else the jokes would never end. He sighed. “Can we get going?”

“Look at this attitude. Wow, my little Noah is grow-” Noah’s mother mockingly said.

“Be quieeeeet. Let’s just get a wand.” Noah dismissed, pushing her away, his face getting somewhat flustered.

“Alright! Lead the way.” His mother implored.

The pair gradually made their way to the shop. The door to Ollivanders whispered open with a soft groan. They stepped inside, and the world seemed to shift. The shop had been an unassuming speck on the bustling street of Diagon Alley, its peeling black paint and crooked sign giving it the air of something that time had passed over. The sign, faded but proud, bore the words: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. The single wand in the window laid reverently on a threadbare cushion of faded purple velvet, feeling less like a display and more like an invitation to enter.

The air felt old and smelled faintly of aged wood and parchment, with a strange metallic tang that hinted at the power contained within the wands. It was dimly lit, the only light coming from a few flickering candles and thin, silvery beams that seemed to materialise from nowhere. The shelves themselves were labyrinthine, stretching up to a ceiling that seemed impossibly high, their edges lost in the gloom. They moaned under the weight of countless wand boxes, each one a tomb for a sliver of potential, waiting for the right hand to awaken it. One such wand began shaking restlessly right from the very moment Noah entered.

There were a couple other kids inside, presumably first years, so Noah waited his turn. It was rather humorous watching them attempt to find the wand suitable. Every once in a while, a glass would shatter, or a shelf would just be sent flying across the store. Nonetheless, in a blink of an eye, he was at the front of the queue.

“Hello there boy, what might your name be?” The old man at the till questioned warm heartedly.

“N… Noah Kang, sir.” Noah responded nervously.

“Ah, Noah Kang. It feels like it was just yesterday that your brother got his wand. He was brimming with talent, that boy! How is he now?” The old man gleefully exhaled.

“He’s dead.” Noah said, bluntly.

“Oh. Pity. Anyways, let’s get you sorted out!” Changing the subject, he handed Noah a wand of spruce with a unicorn hair core. “Give it a wave.”

Noah did so, but the wand jerked from his hand and shot sparks into a nearby shelf, causing several boxes to teeter dangerously. Ollivander snatched the wand back before disaster struck. Noah heard a snicker or two behind him, but he paid no attention to it.

“No, not quite,” he said thoughtfully, rummaging for another box.

A maple wand with a phoenix feather core was next. This time, the wand barely reacted at all, as if sulking in protest. Ollivander frowned.

“Curious,” he murmured, his fingers now moving more quickly through the piles. He began pulling out wands in rapid succession, walnut, ebony, hazel, all to no avail. Each wand seemed to reject Noah more forcefully than the last. Noah’s heart sank. What if no wand chose him? What if he wasn’t meant to be a wizard at all? Ollivander suddenly stopped. His eyes narrowed, and he reached for a box high on a distant shelf.

“Perhaps... yes, perhaps this one.” Ollivander said, a smile growing. He handed Noah a holly wood wand possessing a phoenix core. As soon as the wand touched Noah’s hand, all of the candles around began to burn vigorously, causing some shelves and papers to catch fire. “NOPE! Not at all!” Ollivander exclaimed, putting out the fires and taking the wand back. Noah’s heart sank.

Whilst putting the wand back, Ollivander noticed the wand beside the holly wand shaking slightly. “Curious… how curious…”

He returned with a long, elegant wand of deep red-brown wood, its surface gleaming like polished stone. “Cherry wood, with a dragon heartstring core. Thirty-five point two centimetres. A rather curious combination. The cherry wood often possesses true power, though when paired with a dragon heartstring core… It is a most lethal wand. But painfully hard to control. I wonder…”

Noah hesitated, his palms sweating, as he took the wand in trembling hands. The moment his fingers curled around it, a warmth spread through his arm, as if the wand recognized him. A soft, golden light swirled around him, and for the first time, Noah felt... powerful. Ollivander’s expression brightened, his eyes twinkling. “Ah, yes. That’s the one. A wand for a wizard with hidden depths! But you must respect it, young Mr. Kang. It will demand as much from you as it gives.”

“Thank you, sir!” Noah replied happily, leaving the store with a smile plastered across his chubby cheeks.