A First Wand Wielding
After stopping by Gringotts, Jean walked over to a dark storefront. The sun's reflection on the windows on either side of the entrance obscured her view of the inside, but the lettering could not be mistaken: this was Ollivander's.
As the wand was the very first item on the list of requirements, Jean, her brother, and her parents decided to make their way to Ollivander's. They had come across the name by asking around in the Leaky Couldron.
A man who she assumed was Ollivander closed the till as the Beans entered the shop. A girl of about Jean's age happily left the shop with a new wand, accompanied by a parent. Apparently, it was a busy day for magical shopping. Although talking to others might have been the smart move, Jean could not stop herself from eyeing the shelves upon shelves of boxes. How many wands did the store contain? How did this man keep track of it all? And, most importantly, which box would Jean buy?
Jean had expected a catalogus to flip through, maybe sorted by colour or special powers. What she had not expected, was the piercing gaze of Ollivander when she nearly ran into him.
"Dear, dear, you do seem to get lost in thought. Jean, is it? Jean Bean?" His question was soft. She nodded. Her dad, Peter, laughed. "That is our Jeanny, always with her head in the clouds!"
Ollivander did not laugh, but merely scanned her from head to toe. What was he looking for? He was not judging her, was he? Her shoulders rounded forward, but he had already made his way to a shelf. After a surprisingly nimble climb up a ladder, the old man reached towards the highest box and opened it. Swiftly, he made his way to Jean.
"Now, just see how this one reacts," he murmured. The reddish wood turned green when it touched her fingertips. She heard Ollivander firmly say, "Oh no!"
Immediately, he replaced the green wand with an ornate one. She turned it over in her hand, and suddenly the room was completely dark. Not even sunlight permeated into the store. In shock, she dropped the wand to the floor.
"Be careful with my wares, young lady. But such a reaction of the light was to be expected, I was just trying a wildcard."
Ollivander sprinted into the back, where Jean could no longer see him. How big was this place? A minute passed. Then two minutes. Her mother began to shift her weight from one foot to the other. "How is it normal for all light to disappear from a room, by a teen touching a stick?," she muttered to her husband. "More importantly," Jean's brother sighed from behind, "is that grandpa ever coming back?"
Just then, a light turned on. Ollivander was standing beneath it, his white hair emitting a halo-like glow. He slid a new wand quickly into Jean's hand. Immediately, she could feel the wind in her hair. Inspiration flared in the young girl, her eyes starting to glitter. "Yes," she uttered. "This is the one."
Ollivander gave a small smile. "24 centimeters. A walnut wand with a phoenix feather core. Inflexible." His eyes crinkled. "Stubborn, very stubborn. But smart."
As the wand was the very first item on the list of requirements, Jean, her brother, and her parents decided to make their way to Ollivander's. They had come across the name by asking around in the Leaky Couldron.
A man who she assumed was Ollivander closed the till as the Beans entered the shop. A girl of about Jean's age happily left the shop with a new wand, accompanied by a parent. Apparently, it was a busy day for magical shopping. Although talking to others might have been the smart move, Jean could not stop herself from eyeing the shelves upon shelves of boxes. How many wands did the store contain? How did this man keep track of it all? And, most importantly, which box would Jean buy?
Jean had expected a catalogus to flip through, maybe sorted by colour or special powers. What she had not expected, was the piercing gaze of Ollivander when she nearly ran into him.
"Dear, dear, you do seem to get lost in thought. Jean, is it? Jean Bean?" His question was soft. She nodded. Her dad, Peter, laughed. "That is our Jeanny, always with her head in the clouds!"
Ollivander did not laugh, but merely scanned her from head to toe. What was he looking for? He was not judging her, was he? Her shoulders rounded forward, but he had already made his way to a shelf. After a surprisingly nimble climb up a ladder, the old man reached towards the highest box and opened it. Swiftly, he made his way to Jean.
"Now, just see how this one reacts," he murmured. The reddish wood turned green when it touched her fingertips. She heard Ollivander firmly say, "Oh no!"
Immediately, he replaced the green wand with an ornate one. She turned it over in her hand, and suddenly the room was completely dark. Not even sunlight permeated into the store. In shock, she dropped the wand to the floor.
"Be careful with my wares, young lady. But such a reaction of the light was to be expected, I was just trying a wildcard."
Ollivander sprinted into the back, where Jean could no longer see him. How big was this place? A minute passed. Then two minutes. Her mother began to shift her weight from one foot to the other. "How is it normal for all light to disappear from a room, by a teen touching a stick?," she muttered to her husband. "More importantly," Jean's brother sighed from behind, "is that grandpa ever coming back?"
Just then, a light turned on. Ollivander was standing beneath it, his white hair emitting a halo-like glow. He slid a new wand quickly into Jean's hand. Immediately, she could feel the wind in her hair. Inspiration flared in the young girl, her eyes starting to glitter. "Yes," she uttered. "This is the one."
Ollivander gave a small smile. "24 centimeters. A walnut wand with a phoenix feather core. Inflexible." His eyes crinkled. "Stubborn, very stubborn. But smart."