The atmosphere of Diagon Alley was more electrifying as Eira Cravensworth walked through he crowded street next to her father, almost skipping on every step as excitement bubbled in her chest.

Numerous wixen flooded the shops, arms laden with school supplies as well as levitating shopping bags trailing behind them as the new school year for Hogwarts loomed closer.

As soon as Eira received the owl from the famous wizarding school, she and her dad yelled in triumph while her mum tried to tell them to settle down, a wide smile on her face was as bright as the sun.

Instead of going to his firm, her father exchanged his expensive suit and shined leather shoes for a more comfortable jumper and trousers; announcing that he would take her shopping for her school supplies. Reinhilde let a frown mar her lovely face, expressing discontent as she wanted to go as well with her husband and daughter, but she was urgently needed in St. Mungo's and would not be able to accompany them until Mr. Maltsmire's head could be returned from its current turnip shape.

It took every bit of her will to run to the curious shop, which she had been peeking in as long as she could remember. The shop's building was narrow and somewhat shabby. Her nose now unconsciously felt itchy as she spotted dust clusters by the window as the peeling gold letters introduced:

Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C

She looked up to her dad, his face mirroring the excitement she had felt the whole morning and ushered her in gently.

It looked... old.

Eira, the witch who had frequented opulent boutiques and stylish shops with her mum, felt a bit disappointed as her bright blue eyes scanned rows and rows of thin boxes that were stacked on top of the other.

Ezra seemed unbothered by the state of the store and wandered further back, the light from the lanterns bounced on his dark blonde hair, making it almost brown like her mum's.

The girl looked to one of the stacks and gently caressed the surface of one of the boxes, inwardly shivering in disgust when she felt the coarse texture of dust before she felt the flap between the cover and the box's inner layer. Before she could open it, a raspy voice interrupted her actions.

"Ah, has the Vine and unicorn hair wand taken your fancy?"

A scream nearly tore from her throat as she leapt back and saw a wizened old man who looked ancient enough to be her great-great grandfather. The scant grey hair that covered his head seemed to float as he walked towards them from the room behind the counter. Back stooped with a bit of shakiness but his stature was still confident with each stride.

"Nice to see you again Mr. Ollivanders!" her dad exclaimed with a boyish grin on his face, making him look younger than his age "I'm here with my daughter, Eira. She just got her owl today from Hogwarts!"

The tone of his voice sounded like he was the one getting the wand but his sunny disposition earned a fond chuckle from the older man and regarded him with his pale eyes-

"Ezra Cravensworth. I remember how you got your first wand; Poplar with unicorn hair with unyielding flexibility, if I'm correct. Quite adept in charm work."

The words seemed to cause her dad's chest to puff up with pride. "It's an amazing wand, saved my hide a few times from sticky situations," he joked before he caught Eira's questioning stare and cleared his throat.

"Oh yes, back to the lady of the hour here. Eira love, this is Mr. Ollivanders, he will help find the perfect wand for you."

"It's nice to meet you, sir" Eira greeted, adding a small curtsy which usually endeared her to most adults.

Mr. Ollivanders gave a slight smile and a small bow, "A pleasure to meet you as well Ms. Cravensworth. Now, let's go ahead and see if I have the wand that is inclined to be with you."

"Um, what do you mean the wand that wants to be with me? Do wands have their own minds?"

"Wands are alive in their way, though not in the sense that they can move or speak as we do. Each one is special, different with the wood and core used to create one and some even have their own personalities."

Mr. Ollivander placed the small stack on a wooden chair and turned his attention back to Eira, who had been looking at him with curiosity. From what she gathered, he was a very perceptive man who obviously could discern someone with their wands and the way her father preened at his praise meant that he was someone he had a high opinion of.

Out of nowhere, he produced a measuring tape and motioned for her to come forth. Without waiting for her dad's confirmation, she tottered towards the man with confidence and heart thumping with excitement. The whole measuring was a tedious experience. He measured her from head to toe, her shoulders, the tip of her middle finger to her shoulders, her wrists, even the width of her nostrils to the thickness of her arms.

She could hear him mumbling a bit under his breath before he straightened up, moved to one of the shelves, and retrieved a box that had seen better days.

"Apple and phoenix feather" he offered, "It prefers witches and wizards with high ideals and performs well for transfiguration."

She carefully held the wand and swished it the way she had seen her parents do, but so far, nothing happened.

Mr. Ollivander didn't look concerned as she returned the wand to him, retrieving another box from one of the piles next to them.

"How about this one, Rowan with unicorn hair. 10 inches and very springy" he said but as soon as she tried swinging it, the man grabbed it from her with a wide smile on his face.

An unusual shade of insecurity bubbled from the heiress as numerous wands that had been tried seemed to accumulate. Her dad looked worried as well but Mr Ollivander was getting more and more happy with each fruitless result. The thought of none of the wands accepting her frightened Eira to the point that she wanted to go home lest she suffer the humiliating fact that she won't ever find the wand most suited for her before Mr Ollivander showed her a box with a wand inside with a hue so dark that it looked black with a chestnut brown handle.

"This one is an unusual combination, chestnut with thestral tail hair. Ten inches and inflexible. Very effective for nonverbal spells and perfect for defense" Mr Ollivanders hummed.

"Thestral tail hair?" her father asked, sounding taken aback, "You can use thestral hair as a core?"

"I usually don't produce many wands with this core as it's an unstable element, although a few can be a match if matched with the right wand wood and, of course," he turned to Eira "with the suited witch"

Feeling a boost of confidence, Eira carefully held the wand and manipulated it like a conductor. In an instant, a warm glow emitted from the tip and the entire space lit up, a few moments before she felt something warm envelope her body and a sudden chill run up her spine.

Ezra gave a whoop of excitement and clapped and Mr Ollivanders regarded her with a curious spark in his eyes.

"I am truly curious about your journey with that wand, Ms. Cravensworth. A chestnut wand with a thestral core paired to a chestnut haired witch. I wonder how your story unfolds."