Angel stepped into Ollivander’s wand shop. The bell above the door dinged. The air inside of the store smelled faintly of wood shavings and polish she couldn't believe she was actually there it all felt like a dream. The walls were crammed from floor to ceiling with countless narrow boxes, stacked haphazardly but with some strange order only the wandmaker himself could understand. There was a rustling sound that was coming from the back room. confused at first. Ollivander appeared from the back room to greet her with a gentle smile and soft voice.


"Ah! Angel, you're finally here it is great to see you," he said in a pleasant voice. "You know who I am?" She inquired, curiosity crossed her small face. "You're here to get your first wand. Let's find the right one for you, " he said. Angel tried many different wands, and none seemed right until he pulled out the next wand. "26,4 cm chestnut wood and pheonix feather give it a whirl," he said, handing the wand to her. Angel gives it a gentle wave and silvery-blue sparks shot from the tip of the wand, a conformation that the right wand had been found. "Excellent, we have found your wand," he said her eyes lit up, and she couldn't believe she finally had her own wand holding it close. She gave him the payment before saying goodbye and leaving on her way.

WC 237