Janet Flannel stepped out of the pristine marble halls of Gringotts into crowds of diagon alley and headed to the wand shop. She wondered what her wand would be like.

Looking around she could see the unique flair every stick had for each person. Some were fancy canes, others were like batons. Some were smooth as marble, others engraved and intricate. A giant of a man was strolling along with a full grown tree, roots and all, held in his fist like a staff.

Maybe these weren't for vanity. Maybe each stick was sold as a blank slate and melded itself to every personality, shaped by the growth of the user. She took the spoon that used to be her pet snake Darius out of her pocket and waved it around.

"What makes a stick magical? Could you be my wand, Darius?"

Darius didn't deign to answer.

"Maybe the stick itself has to be made from something magical, like a magic stone. Or maybe the witch has to put magic into the sticks themself in order to make it magical." Janet entertained herself with these fantasies of wandlore until she arrived.

Ollivander's wand shop was a decrepit shack of a store on the outside, the letters at the front spelled "liver : akers of ine ands s 38". At the grimy display window sat a solitary wand on a purple cushion. Inside the shop every inch of wall was covered with stacks upon stacks of little boxes.

From behind the stacks of boxes on the counter sprung an old man in dusty victorian garb and a wild sheen to his gaze. In his arms were even more boxes.

"Hello =)", said she

"Ah- I'll be with you in a second" croaked the man before disappearing behind more stacks of boxes.

Janet opened one of the boxes and took out a wand. The entire shop exploded.

Ollivander appeared again, and waved around his wand. The rubble picked itself up, creaking and groaning as it slotted itself back together, until Janet and Ollivander were standing in a shop again.

"It would be best if you didn't touch the wands unsupervised, my dear, lest the next blast be nuclear, though I usually keep the more volatile wands out of reach". Ollivanders gaze went distant as he ducked behind some boxes.

"it seems I'm getting-", Ollivander grunted and something crashed, "- a bit too old, so much escapes me these days". He popped back out with some boxes in hand.

"Try this. That blast had quite the punch to it, so maybe ah- " He paused, abruptly snatching it back and opening another, "no, not dragon" he muttered to himself, "Perhaps the feather of a dying pheonix".

Janet very carefully picked it up. It was snatched out of her hand before she could blink
"no not yew, try the cherry one".

When Janet held this one up, a magical euphoria washed over her and golden sparkles reigned down from the heavens. A gentle breeze ribboned around her as she floated into the air, her hair whipping around her and a blinding light cacooning her before exploding into thousands of tiny snowflakes, with which she twirled back down gracefully.

Ollivander's eyes twinkled in delight. "hmmm. cherry wood and pheonix feather, 14 inches, and unyielding. ahh it's taken to you quite well - It often chooses those with incredible strength of character and will, and it's one I've typically sold to many a talented duelist. It seems you've won over quite the picky wand, so so take great care of it".

He packed it up and the wand was sold to Janet for 2 galleons. Janet immediately whipped it out, tapping it on every surface, in awe of the sparkles. The wet concrete tangibilty of her magic was starting to set.

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