Location: Diagon Alley - Ollivander's.
Date: August 9th, 2024
Time: 2:30pm

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Anna felt anticipation in her chest as she and her mother walked hand in hand up to the narrow shop, whose gold lettering spelling out its name; Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C were peeled and cracked, left untouched for years. Anna snuck a glance at her mother, who observed the shabby looking shop with concern, no doubt eyeing the dilapidated state it was in. She could understand why. The windows themselves were dusty, even the faded purple cushion that held a single wand on display had etches of dust on it.

“Ollivander is said to be one of the finest wandmakers in our world,” the Professor explained as Anna listened with interest. “Any questions about wands, chances are he’s the man to speak to about it.”
The three of them made their way into the tiny little shop, and found it to be mainly empty, save for a single spindly chair in the corner that looked as if it were one more sit away from crumbling entirely. What caught the young witches mind the most was the thousands of narrow boxes that seemed to reach so high up, it was a wonder they didn’t all tumble down already.

Even the inside of the shop had a thin layer of dust on it, and Anna felt her nose was a tad scratchy. Her mother she could see was doing her best to hold it together, but the itch to look for the closest supply shop and clean up this dusty shop was no doubt slowly gripping her, evidenced by the way her mothers hand gripped hers a tad too tightly.

Just as Anna was prepared to head over toward the next set of towering boxes, a man seemed to almost materialize from between the shelves. He was wizened in his age, eyes wide and pale silver, but he looked at her with curiosity, a small smile forming on his lips.

“Ah, a new face. How do you do Miss…”

“Anna, sir.” She replied, voice timid despite the excitement drumming inside her.

“Anna Lincoln.”

“Come closer, my dear.” The man named Ollivander beckoned, gesturing for her. She could feel her mother slowly slide her grip away, and gentle move her forward. Anna gave the old man a nervous smile before approaching. “No need to worry, your wand is here somewhere, waiting for you.” The mans assurance gave her some level of comfort, but her anticipation was gnawing at her, keeping her from being able to fully relax.

“I don't um, pick my wand?” She inquired softly. The man’s gentle chortle had her feeling both silly for asking and curious as to the humor behind it all.

“The wand chooses the wizard, Miss Lincoln.” He announced, with a twinkle in his eye. “Or in your case, the witch.”

The aged wizard proceeded to hand her a series of wands, one in which after giving it a wave, proceeded to tear a number of wand boxes from the shelves. Horrified, she felt the man promptly yank it back before handing her another. This continued for at least two minutes, in which wands were given and snatched back after only a few seconds, before Anna began to grow quite worried.

Anxiety gnawed at her.

“Is this…normal?” She questioned nervously.

“Ah, no need to worry, no need to worry, happens to the best of us!” Ollivander insisted with a bright smile, and something about his excitement managed to calm her a little. He riffled through a few more on the shelves before slowly pulling out a dark case that was of average length, if not a tad shorter than most she’d momentarily handled. Opening it up, her eyes caught sight of the sleek wood, a warm, reddish-brown with subtle swirl patterns naturally carved in. Her breath hitched as she slowly reached for it, pulling it out of its case. Immediately, she felt a warmth envelop around her hand, her fingertips.

This one was different; she could feel it.

Containing a smile, she waved the wand…and watched in awe as sparks of yellow burst forth, like mini fireworks popping off before her. She let out a breath of air and beamed as she heard the gentle clapping of her mother and the professor behind her. She turned around toward them, holding her wand up like the trophy it was before looking back at the wizard, who was smiling softly.

“It worked!”

“Indeed it did, Miss Lincoln.” And the look in his eyes told her he was curious, very much so. “Cherry wood and phoenix feather. Very rare and quite powerful.”

Blinking, she turned her attention to her new wand. It was beautiful indeed, and felt right in her hand…

“Powerful and rare?” She said softly. “And it chose…me?” She had a thousand more questions and thoughts on her new wand.

She hoped Mr. Ollivander was eager to answer.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━