“I’ll meet you outside, Ophelia.” The door slammed shut. She looked around the dimly lit wand shop, taking in the sight. Hundreds if not thousands of wand boxes crowded the cramped room, each wand waiting for its special owner. The air smelled like wood, polish, and something faintly magical just beneath the surface.

A moment passed. Silence. Then… “Ah,” came a crackly, knowing voice from somewhere between the shelves. “Yes. I thought it might be you.”

Mr. Ollivander emerged slowly, a curious and warm expression settled on his face. “I wondered when I’d be meeting you, Miss Rosales.”

“Mr Ollivander right? My dad told me about you! It’s very nice to meet you!” She smiles softly, hands clasped together. “You’re going to give me a wand, right!” The man laughs, an airy chuckle coming from his throat. “Ah, yes… I am. You seem enthusiastic.”

Ophelia’s light smile brightened the dark, wand shop. “I am! I’m really excited to see what wand I get! Thank you for this opportunity!” He gestured her forward. “Of course. Now then. Let’s see what the wands have to say.”

The first wand he placed in her hand was ash, unicorn hair, 17 centimetres. “A rather short wand… Slightly bendy, good for defensive spells. Hm… Yes. Could be something great if used right.” Ophelia lifted it carefully and gave it a small flick. The tip glowed for a second, promising, but then fizzled out like a candle in the rain. Ollivander hummed.

“Hm, no… Not quite.”

The second wand he handed to Ophelia was hawthorn wood, dragon heartstring, and really stiff. She took it in her hand curiously, and gave it a whoosh. The moment she moved it, a sharp crack echoed through the shop, knocking a stack of boxes over. Ophelia jumped back, eyes wide. She looked at him slightly nervous she had ruined something.

“No, no. Certainly not!” Ollivander said quickly. “Too forceful, way too harsh. It would only cause you failure.”

He disappeared into the shadows of the wand shop again, soon returning with a longer wand, darker than the others. “Try this.” He spoke, voice smooth as he looked at her with expectation. The moment the wand touched her hand, she felt a slight tingle. A promise. It almost felt alive.

She raised it, unsure what to expect. She flicked it carefully, and gasped. The air around her shifted, the wand emitting a golden light that lifted the papers on the floor. The papers swirled around her, before falling onto the floor softly. A small airy laugh escaped her, that experience was so thrilling.

Ollivander went very still, before letting out a small chuckle. “Oh yes.” He said, more to himself than anyone else. “Very good. Very good indeed.”

He took the wand from her hands just long enough to examine it.
“Twenty two point two centimetres… Chestnut wood. Snallygaster heartstring. Flexible. A wand thats keen on discoveries and experiences, that desires an owner in its own image… Yes… You, Miss Rosales, would be perfect for it.”

A smile was still present on her face but she seemed a little nervous. “Are you sure this wand is for me…? It sounds, demanding. I don’t know if I can accomplish all that it—it wants me to…”

The old shop owner smiles reassuringly, he clearly had gone through this with many other young people before. “Do not fret, for the wand chooses the wizard, dear Ophelia. It chose you because it knew you would be perfect for it.”

The wand fit perfectly in her hand. It’s shocking to know this is the first time she’s holding it, it felt like it’s been in her life forever. Ophelia looked down at it, then back up at Ollivander. Her nervous demeanour fizzled away immediately, joy bright in her eyes.

“Yes,” he said, smiling thinly. “You and this wand will do quite a lot together. I expect great things from you, Ophelia.”