"Darling, we will be waiting right outside."

My father gave my mother's hand a light squeeze. Her fingers tightened around his, and her smile, though warm, couldn't quite hide the concern in her eyes. Somehow, she seemed more worried than I was.

I couldn't help but smile. It would be a lie to say that I'm not as nervous as they are. After all, I was only buying a wand, yet Mother looked as though I were about to face a dragon. If anyone needed reassurance at that moment, it was probably her, not me.

A silver bell chimed the instant I pushed open the crooked wooden door. The shop was quiet; dust drifted lazily through shafts of golden sunlight, making the entire room feel frozen in time. For a moment, I thought I was alone.

Then, a raspy voice emerged from somewhere among the shelves.

"Ah, Miss Astraea..." he murmured. "I had a feeling you would come here soon enough."

An elderly wizard stepped forward from the shadows. His pale eyes seemed to shine under the dim light as they studied me carefully.

How did he know my name?...

Before I could fully process what was happening, he began to extend his hand toward the shelf, retrieving the boxes one after another.

"Yes, I think I know what you need." He tilted his head, as though he were examining a puzzle. "Interesting, very interesting indeed."

What does he mean by 'interesting'? I forced down the lump in my throat.

Soon, a bunch of boxes flew through the air. I thought my hopes were rising, but not one wand picked me. Every failure chipped away at my confidence.

Maybe I wasn't meant to be a wizard... Maybe they made a mistake in the letters they gave me.

Or so I'd thought.

Mr. Ollivander looked not a bit concerned. He seemed more curious than disappointed. At last, he went to the back of the shop and climbed a tall ladder. In a minute or two, he returned with an old, dusty black box in his hands.

"What a difficult customer..." He laughed. “I wondered when this wand would meet its owner. He opened the box carefully. Inside was a beautiful wand of blackthorn wood gleaming

He opened the box with gentle hands. Inside was a beautiful wand of blackthorn wood, shining in the light like faraway stars. I closed my hand around it and felt a wonderful sense of belonging, as if the last piece of a puzzle had fallen into place.

Then, a noise.

Tick, tick, tick.

"Oh yes," said Mr. Ollivander gently. "A perfect match."

I looked at the wand in awe. It felt like it belonged in my hand. Like it was made for me. I looked at him, my eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I can't tell you how grateful I am." Tears of joy welled in my eyes as I clutched my wand tightly to my chest.

Mr. Ollivander smiled. He appeared to know everything that was going on.

My parents were waiting outside. And when their eyes fell on the wand I was holding, tears of joy fell from their eyes too.

The problem of my being able to become a wizard looks like it's been solved.

Yet, a new problem emerged.

It continues to tick.