My new friend
My uncle Chilwick insists that the first place we go in Diagon Alley is Ollivander's. As we enter the dimly lit shop, I see the tightly packed and highly stacked rows of little boxes, knowing each one holds a wand waiting for its witch or wizard. The energy in the room is like walking into a pet store, full of anticipation and excitement, yet it is completely silent except for the tiny bell that rings announcing us coming through the door.
My uncle looks down at me with a slight mischievous grin and says, "This is the first big step on your journey of being a master wizard like me!"
I chuckle at his joke. I know he is a good wizard, like my dad was, but he hasn't done anything spectacular in his life. He is a good man and a faithful and honest person, but I do not see a grand wizard standing next me.
I separate from my uncle and disappear down one of the narrow aisles. I enjoy the smell of the many kinds of wood discretely hiding in each one of the boxes all around me. I can just barely hear the faintest hum like a bumble bee, but it isn't scary, it is oddly comforting. I close my eyes for a few seconds and begin to feel the energy of the room, then slowly open them and a wiry man stands before me silently.
"Good day, young man. welcome to my humble little shop. May I help you find what you are looking for?"
I nod, and he leads me down the rows picking out a few boxes and handing them to me to carry. We end our little tiptoe through the shop at the front desk and he has me lay out the boxes on the counter. He unboxes the first one and hands me the wand from inside. I feel a slight tingle in my fingers and a faint glow at the tip appears. He looks at me, takes the wand and puts it back in the box. He mumbles to himself, "Oak, unicorn, mild response. Next."
We repeat this several times with similar comments for the proprietor. My uncle appears behind me after the third wand and smiles at me. Ollivander hands me another wand, it's warm in my hand this time, the glow is a little stronger as well. He has me wave it around and give it a small tap on the counter resulting in a small pop and flash. This time he says, "Walnut and dragon, 11 inches, good response, almost there. Give me a minute, I think I have just the thing."
He wanders down the aisle again and comes back a few minutes later with a paper-wrapped box. It has yellowed with age, and as he begins taking the paper off, it crumbles. All the while, I notice that the buzzing I heard earlier has become very noticeable, and a feeling of excitement enters me. Ollivander opens the box and gently removes a glossy reddish-brown wand and hands it to me. The moment it touches my palm; my fingers instinctively wrap comfortably around the shaft. A pronounced warmth runs up my arm and the buzzing crescendos for a second and goes silent. I give the wand a wave and a gentle breeze waft through the shop causing dust to suddenly rise.
Ollivander looks down at me and says, "There we have it. Chestnut, dragon heart-string, 9 and quarter inches. You have been chosen."
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I feel like I have made a new friend here. Thank you for helping us find each other." I look down at my wand and turn to my uncle to leave.
As my uncle and I leave the shop, he turns to me and says, "Now aren't you glad we came here first?"
I chuckle and we continue our shopping in Diagon Alley.
My uncle looks down at me with a slight mischievous grin and says, "This is the first big step on your journey of being a master wizard like me!"
I chuckle at his joke. I know he is a good wizard, like my dad was, but he hasn't done anything spectacular in his life. He is a good man and a faithful and honest person, but I do not see a grand wizard standing next me.
I separate from my uncle and disappear down one of the narrow aisles. I enjoy the smell of the many kinds of wood discretely hiding in each one of the boxes all around me. I can just barely hear the faintest hum like a bumble bee, but it isn't scary, it is oddly comforting. I close my eyes for a few seconds and begin to feel the energy of the room, then slowly open them and a wiry man stands before me silently.
"Good day, young man. welcome to my humble little shop. May I help you find what you are looking for?"
I nod, and he leads me down the rows picking out a few boxes and handing them to me to carry. We end our little tiptoe through the shop at the front desk and he has me lay out the boxes on the counter. He unboxes the first one and hands me the wand from inside. I feel a slight tingle in my fingers and a faint glow at the tip appears. He looks at me, takes the wand and puts it back in the box. He mumbles to himself, "Oak, unicorn, mild response. Next."
We repeat this several times with similar comments for the proprietor. My uncle appears behind me after the third wand and smiles at me. Ollivander hands me another wand, it's warm in my hand this time, the glow is a little stronger as well. He has me wave it around and give it a small tap on the counter resulting in a small pop and flash. This time he says, "Walnut and dragon, 11 inches, good response, almost there. Give me a minute, I think I have just the thing."
He wanders down the aisle again and comes back a few minutes later with a paper-wrapped box. It has yellowed with age, and as he begins taking the paper off, it crumbles. All the while, I notice that the buzzing I heard earlier has become very noticeable, and a feeling of excitement enters me. Ollivander opens the box and gently removes a glossy reddish-brown wand and hands it to me. The moment it touches my palm; my fingers instinctively wrap comfortably around the shaft. A pronounced warmth runs up my arm and the buzzing crescendos for a second and goes silent. I give the wand a wave and a gentle breeze waft through the shop causing dust to suddenly rise.
Ollivander looks down at me and says, "There we have it. Chestnut, dragon heart-string, 9 and quarter inches. You have been chosen."
"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I feel like I have made a new friend here. Thank you for helping us find each other." I look down at my wand and turn to my uncle to leave.
As my uncle and I leave the shop, he turns to me and says, "Now aren't you glad we came here first?"
I chuckle and we continue our shopping in Diagon Alley.