3 Jun 2025, 11:57
Splinter
Location: Diagon Alley – Ollivander’s
Date: August 26th
Time: 08:30
Tiberius walked with his hands in the front pocket of his black hoodie and his head looking down at the cobbled street. He scuffed his trainers as he went and made sure to keep a few paces behind his family. Being the middle child of three, it wasn’t difficult for him to fade into the background. Ahead of him were his father, Gaius, and grandfather, Lucien, deciding Tiberius’ future: “Slytherin”, “Quidditch Captain”, “Head Boy”, everything that would be expected from the son of a Pure-Blood family. Lucien, once a tall Quidditch prodigy, was now an old man, stooped over and walking with a cane. His formerly auburn hair was entirely white – cut with a short back and sides – and he sported a goatee. Gaius still stood tall at 6’2” but had the classic signs of his middle-age: a receding hairline and the beginnings of liver spots on his forehead. A step or so behind them walked Tiberius’ mother, Isla, who occasionally looked over her should to make sure her son hadn’t wandered off. She had thick brunette hair tied into a bun and seemed to be able to negotiate with the cobbles in her high heels effortlessly. On her hip she held her youngest child: a five-year-old girl named Eudora who couldn’t be trusted to walk without darting off in a random direction.
Tiberius yawned and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. They had to wake up at 6am to get everyone ready and have time to breakfast at their hotel. The streets of Diagon Alley was still quiet but it was beginning to show signs of life: shopkeepers removing their “closed” signs and opening their curtains. Tiberius wanted to start at Flourish and Blotts – the bookstore – but his parents knew that it would be difficult to pry him out of there once they entered so had decided to leave it til last. First on their agenda was what his father was most excited about: Ollivander’s. Finally standing in front of it, Tiberius raised his head to take a look at the old shop. It was a black-brick building with two circular bay windows on either side of the door, also painted black. The paint was cracking and looked as though it had been in need of a touch up for a while. The name of the shop was painted in gold and seemed equally neglected. It was difficult to see inside the shop due to the dusty windows but Tiberius could make out an old man doddering about, moving boxes of wands with no observable pattern or reason. His father and grandfather parted to allow him access to the front door.
“Right, boy” Lucien said, gesturing forward. “You first.”
Tiberius took a deep breath and opened the door.
The first thing he noticed was the strong smell of wood carvings, like someone had been sharpening pencils for hundreds of years and never thought anyone could notice. The shop was two storeys and every observable surface was covered in boxes of wands: they were stacked high on the shelves on each wall and every table had at least a few strays from the last few customers. The air was warm, both physically and in a metaphorical, comforting way. An old man with white hair was up a moveable ladder, rearranging some of the wands on one of the shelves. He looked too old to be messing around so high up, Tiberius thought. Surely there should be some kind of assistant to do this more physically demanding parts of the job, or at least so that there’s someone around in case of an accident? While lost in thought, he felt a nudge on his shoulder from behind, prompting him to speak.
“Mr. Ollivander?” his voice cracked and he hoped no one noticed him wince in embarrassment.
The old man turned and smiled at him. He jumped down from the ladder in a surprisingly spry move and motioned for him to approach. “Hello! Welcome!”
Tiberius walked over, sharing a nervous glance with his mother who smiled sympathetically in response. “My name is Tiberius Wrex… I’m here for my first wand.”
“Of course, young sir,” Ollivander beamed. “You’re here bright and early – my first customer of the day!”
Something about the man made Tiberius’ nervousness melt away. While he had been feeling hesitant and had wanted to just get this over with, he began to feel excited. The man’s blue eyes sparkled in a way he never saw with the men in his own family.
“Take a look around,” Ollivander said. “See if you’re drawn to any of them.”
“It’ll be a phoenix feather wand, Mr. Ollivander,” piped up Gaius.
“No, it’ll be dragon heartstring,” argued Lucien. They had been debating which wand core he would get for the past week – both wanting to match with him. Almost all of the men in his family had one of those two cores.
“Now, now, gentlemen,” Ollivander said in a slight warning tone. “The wand must choose the wizard, not the wizard’s father or grandfather.”
Tiberius picked up one of the stray boxes on the table next to him and held it. He looked up at Ollivander who took the box from him. Before he had even opened the box, he began telling him what it was.
“Ah, oak wood with a phoenix feather core – very strong, very powerful,” he said, taking the wand from its case and handing it to him.
Tiberius made a few movements with the wand, how his father had taught him, and there was nothing. He tried again and there was a pathetic puff of smoke from the end.
“Hmm,” said Ollivander. “Not this one.”
Ollivander went to the front of the store, climbing on a table to pick a box from one of the higher shelves. He brought it back over to Tiberius: “Holly with dragon heartstring.”
Tiberius took it and was only halfway through the same motion before he felt an electric shock, causing him to drop the wand. He looked at Ollivander, unsure if that’s what was supposed to happen but the old wandmaker shook his head.
This continued on for quite some time, he could feel tears welling up in his eyes as his family became impatient. What if there was no wand for him? Would he still be allowed to go to Hogwarts? Would he become another family disappointment like his brother?
Ollivander’s enthusiasm hadn’t wavered. Suddenly, he raised his eyebrows as an idea struck him. The climbed up the ladder to the same wands he had been moving around when they first arrived. He picked one and brought it down to Tiberius.
“Unicorn hair,” Ollivander began. Tiberius tried to ignore his father’s tut of disapproval. “Rosewood. Rather bendy, very well balance. Perfect for wizards with hidden talents.”
The wand was dark brown and its handle had a round knot in the centre. Tiberius ran his thumb down the length of it and felt a sting but ignored it. Before he could even begin the motion, a warm feeling coursed through him and the end of the wand began glowing brightly.
Tiberius turned to his family. His father and grandfather weren’t looking at him. He could feel the disappointment radiating off them. Isla looked proud.
“Unicorn hair!” she cried. “Just like me!”
It softened the blow slightly. Tiberius manoeuvred the wand in his hand and found the source of the sting – a splinter. He kept his hand hidden and decided to wait until they were outside before removing it. Ollivander put a hand on his shoulder.
“I wonder what your hidden talents will be, young Tiberius,” Ollivander smiled.
Date: August 26th
Time: 08:30
Tiberius walked with his hands in the front pocket of his black hoodie and his head looking down at the cobbled street. He scuffed his trainers as he went and made sure to keep a few paces behind his family. Being the middle child of three, it wasn’t difficult for him to fade into the background. Ahead of him were his father, Gaius, and grandfather, Lucien, deciding Tiberius’ future: “Slytherin”, “Quidditch Captain”, “Head Boy”, everything that would be expected from the son of a Pure-Blood family. Lucien, once a tall Quidditch prodigy, was now an old man, stooped over and walking with a cane. His formerly auburn hair was entirely white – cut with a short back and sides – and he sported a goatee. Gaius still stood tall at 6’2” but had the classic signs of his middle-age: a receding hairline and the beginnings of liver spots on his forehead. A step or so behind them walked Tiberius’ mother, Isla, who occasionally looked over her should to make sure her son hadn’t wandered off. She had thick brunette hair tied into a bun and seemed to be able to negotiate with the cobbles in her high heels effortlessly. On her hip she held her youngest child: a five-year-old girl named Eudora who couldn’t be trusted to walk without darting off in a random direction.
Tiberius yawned and rubbed his eyes beneath his glasses. They had to wake up at 6am to get everyone ready and have time to breakfast at their hotel. The streets of Diagon Alley was still quiet but it was beginning to show signs of life: shopkeepers removing their “closed” signs and opening their curtains. Tiberius wanted to start at Flourish and Blotts – the bookstore – but his parents knew that it would be difficult to pry him out of there once they entered so had decided to leave it til last. First on their agenda was what his father was most excited about: Ollivander’s. Finally standing in front of it, Tiberius raised his head to take a look at the old shop. It was a black-brick building with two circular bay windows on either side of the door, also painted black. The paint was cracking and looked as though it had been in need of a touch up for a while. The name of the shop was painted in gold and seemed equally neglected. It was difficult to see inside the shop due to the dusty windows but Tiberius could make out an old man doddering about, moving boxes of wands with no observable pattern or reason. His father and grandfather parted to allow him access to the front door.
“Right, boy” Lucien said, gesturing forward. “You first.”
Tiberius took a deep breath and opened the door.
The first thing he noticed was the strong smell of wood carvings, like someone had been sharpening pencils for hundreds of years and never thought anyone could notice. The shop was two storeys and every observable surface was covered in boxes of wands: they were stacked high on the shelves on each wall and every table had at least a few strays from the last few customers. The air was warm, both physically and in a metaphorical, comforting way. An old man with white hair was up a moveable ladder, rearranging some of the wands on one of the shelves. He looked too old to be messing around so high up, Tiberius thought. Surely there should be some kind of assistant to do this more physically demanding parts of the job, or at least so that there’s someone around in case of an accident? While lost in thought, he felt a nudge on his shoulder from behind, prompting him to speak.
“Mr. Ollivander?” his voice cracked and he hoped no one noticed him wince in embarrassment.
The old man turned and smiled at him. He jumped down from the ladder in a surprisingly spry move and motioned for him to approach. “Hello! Welcome!”
Tiberius walked over, sharing a nervous glance with his mother who smiled sympathetically in response. “My name is Tiberius Wrex… I’m here for my first wand.”
“Of course, young sir,” Ollivander beamed. “You’re here bright and early – my first customer of the day!”
Something about the man made Tiberius’ nervousness melt away. While he had been feeling hesitant and had wanted to just get this over with, he began to feel excited. The man’s blue eyes sparkled in a way he never saw with the men in his own family.
“Take a look around,” Ollivander said. “See if you’re drawn to any of them.”
“It’ll be a phoenix feather wand, Mr. Ollivander,” piped up Gaius.
“No, it’ll be dragon heartstring,” argued Lucien. They had been debating which wand core he would get for the past week – both wanting to match with him. Almost all of the men in his family had one of those two cores.
“Now, now, gentlemen,” Ollivander said in a slight warning tone. “The wand must choose the wizard, not the wizard’s father or grandfather.”
Tiberius picked up one of the stray boxes on the table next to him and held it. He looked up at Ollivander who took the box from him. Before he had even opened the box, he began telling him what it was.
“Ah, oak wood with a phoenix feather core – very strong, very powerful,” he said, taking the wand from its case and handing it to him.
Tiberius made a few movements with the wand, how his father had taught him, and there was nothing. He tried again and there was a pathetic puff of smoke from the end.
“Hmm,” said Ollivander. “Not this one.”
Ollivander went to the front of the store, climbing on a table to pick a box from one of the higher shelves. He brought it back over to Tiberius: “Holly with dragon heartstring.”
Tiberius took it and was only halfway through the same motion before he felt an electric shock, causing him to drop the wand. He looked at Ollivander, unsure if that’s what was supposed to happen but the old wandmaker shook his head.
This continued on for quite some time, he could feel tears welling up in his eyes as his family became impatient. What if there was no wand for him? Would he still be allowed to go to Hogwarts? Would he become another family disappointment like his brother?
Ollivander’s enthusiasm hadn’t wavered. Suddenly, he raised his eyebrows as an idea struck him. The climbed up the ladder to the same wands he had been moving around when they first arrived. He picked one and brought it down to Tiberius.
“Unicorn hair,” Ollivander began. Tiberius tried to ignore his father’s tut of disapproval. “Rosewood. Rather bendy, very well balance. Perfect for wizards with hidden talents.”
The wand was dark brown and its handle had a round knot in the centre. Tiberius ran his thumb down the length of it and felt a sting but ignored it. Before he could even begin the motion, a warm feeling coursed through him and the end of the wand began glowing brightly.
Tiberius turned to his family. His father and grandfather weren’t looking at him. He could feel the disappointment radiating off them. Isla looked proud.
“Unicorn hair!” she cried. “Just like me!”
It softened the blow slightly. Tiberius manoeuvred the wand in his hand and found the source of the sting – a splinter. He kept his hand hidden and decided to wait until they were outside before removing it. Ollivander put a hand on his shoulder.
“I wonder what your hidden talents will be, young Tiberius,” Ollivander smiled.