Needless to say, the trip to Diagon Alley was excruciatingly long. Driving an hour on the freeway wasn't something she'd expected her parents to do. Sure, by utilizing the source of apparition travel was in a blink of an eye, but no they were visiting with Muggles and who knew what that could have done to them. She was stuck in the backseat of her mother's car. While this was the least of her problems, she couldn't help but grieve and worry to herself. Her second trip to Ollivander's workshop put thoughts into her mind, though some of them were concentrated on herself. Of course, Andrew was a wizard there was no uncertainty; magic didn't make any mistakes, but only pessimistical thoughts surfaced.

She found her eyes peering up at the grey roof of the car, only shutting them whenever the rays of the sun bothered her or when recoiling at the horns of impatient drivers. She twirled the white-wooded wand between her fingers absentmindedly to fill the time that felt like forever. Every minute consumed were hours wasted. Beneath the sound of the radio, she hummed unostentatiously to herself the tunes she could remember from years ago; she had an outstanding memory. 

This was it. This was the moment that would determine the future of Andrew. It not only affected him but also herself as well. She desperately needed a friend at Hogwarts whom she'd actually talk to outside of her everyday lessons, and the academy would only draw them closer, well she hoped at least. After examining and comprehending how wizards and witches got along together from the first sight of Diagon Alley, it was only a fantasy that the Vances could see the positives of magic. It wasn't a scary thing, though it could be, and though something like that was happening at the school, she couldn't tell Andrew about the unidentified lethal gentleman running loose around the grounds of Hogwarts. She wanted to believe the institution was reliable for both herself and Andrew, but the idea was far from reality. Of course, they didn't need to know that at the moment. The dilemma would be resolved by next year with luck and it would never be brought up.

After approximately an hours worth of driving, she heard her father words and she spontaneously sat up, gazing at the huge shopping center in front of them. However, this was not the place they were looking for. Promptly, Emma bolted up from the backseat and looked at her surroundings, checking for the vehicle that belonged to the Vances. There it was. Waving from the backseat in hope that they could see her through the tinted glass, she beamed and immediately turned around to hop out of the car, making sure to hide her wand in the process. Pausing for the Vances to leave their car, she swayed on her heels nervously; a common habit of hers.

"All alrighty then, let's go." Mr. Hill said, clapping his hands together and beckoning the group to the cramped alleyway that seemed to be a dead end. Her heart began to swell with anticipation as she looked at the grey bricks. She had taken the time to remember the pattern required to open the barrier. How else could she have gotten into Diagon Alley to purchase the gift? He stood to the right so that the group could see the sequence. After rapping six bricks on the wall, he took a step back as the bricks began to devour each other until nothing remained but an elegant brick archway that led to the shopping center. Next time, she was apparating.

Diagon Alley was quite the spectacle. It was crowded with assorted shops, children, and elders in their early 100s that didn't surprise Emma at all. Most wizards lived to a long age anyways... if they weren't executed first. One of the first markets she noticed was the joke shop; a ginormous head was pretty easy to pick out of a crowd or in this case, the atmosphere. Both older and younger children roamed the streets, some giggling and some gagging. The obvious victims of a disgusting flavor that owners invented for fun, she couldn't criticize them, the sight was so unusual and ludicrous she smiled a bit. Trollies of confections were pushed through the narrow street, but she was sure not to grab any. Like the ones on the Hogwarts Express, these were not free. Owls of all colors soared above their heads. Grey, brown, and white, but the brown ones were her favorite. They could effortlessly blend into the environment and strike when necessary. Witches in black stereotypical hats sauntered through the streets while wizards with rich grey beards chatted with each other or read the local newspaper. Would she end up like that?

As they continued to walk, they came across a group of window-shopping students gaping at a window stuffed with the most luxurious clothing that made even queens look ridiculous. Even Emma herself had been reeled into the non-melting ice cream bowl that looked too good to be true. She hadn't been to the Alley in months and examining all the new items was quite the gift for her. She had forgotten all about Andrew and his family until shifting around to listen to the gasps generated by both juvenile witches and the Vances. Finally, Ollivander's was in sight and she could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She let her parents enter in front of her and she stuck close to Andrew to discuss one last thing before their privacy was hindered by the gasps she had prophesied. In a hushed whisper, she spoke. "You've got this, okay? Don't be nervous."

Entering the shop gave her a case of deja vu, but  the sight of the young female quickly evaporated those thoughts. This was not the typical Ollivander, but some of his features were still present on the girl's face. With the expression of a mad scientist, it was impracticable for her to be comfortable with the wand keeper. It was hard for her to be calm in the presence of the original shop keeper, but she tried her best to take her eyes off of her and concentrate them on her surroundings, remembering the adventure she had in these walls just months ago. They all seemed so different. The essence of ancient wood and cinnamon overwhelmed her senses as she ran her hand against the cases of wands closest to her. One of these would become Andrew's. Nevertheless, the shop was spotless. She expected none of the less with as many casualties that occurred throughout the journeys. 

"You have come to look for a wand, yes?" The Ollivander descendant spoke, her arms settled behind her back as her feet cruised around the store. Looking back at Andrew, she immediately turned away from the shelves of wands and hiked up to a new one and began to finger the wands, murmuring the different wood names out loud.

Staring out the window, Emma hid the aspen wand out of sight on the windowsill to prevent her from fidgeting with it. Out of sight, out of mind. The room was completely quiet with the exception of the owner walking around, hitting the wooden floorboards as he went. Her unsteady breath could be overheard in times of stillness. She was beginning to think she should take her own advice. Every store could be seen in her position. The Quidditch shop, ice cream, and the fancy dress store that even caught her eye (though she would never wear it); the store was the dead end of the Alley after all. This couldn't possibly take long.

It was a bit…questionable, at first. As the Vances pulled some weirded, uneasy glances at one another; trusting their friends in good faith, they followed the Hills into an empty courtyard, facing a solid brick wall at one end that seemed impassable. That was, until Mr. Hill tapped a few bricks with the tip of his wand, and the wall divided, peeling back into an archway that opened to a cobblestoned street, revealing the hubbub of a crowd-filled shopping alley that the Vances hadn’t expected to be lying behind it.

Trailing after the Hills, the Vances’ faces were ones of wide-eyed surprise, wonder, and awe. The sights and spectacles were overwhelming… Unbelievable… And yet it was not a dream. Once the initial shock and dumbfoundedness wore off; strangely, the atmosphere was quite calming, as the Vances took in all that was amusing, peculiar, and bizarre in the Alley. Definitely not as “dark”, grim, and cult-like as Mr. and Mrs. Vance feared it might be, when seeing all the cheery faces of children and families around. A performance of this scale couldn’t be an act. Gradually, the magnitude of their new reality was starting to sink in…

Eventually, the Vances drew closer to a shop that the Hills were directing them to. Andrew gazed up at a gold-lettered sign above the front entrance that read:


"You've got this, okay? Don't be nervous." He heard Emma whisper to him. For Andrew, those kinds of comments usually had the opposite effect on him, as he wondered if there was something inside the store, something he was about to be tested with, that he ought to feel nervous about.

Entering the tiny shop, the Vances bunched together. Behind one of the counters, a woman – looking to be in her thirties; Andrew assumed she was a shopkeeper of sorts – greeted them kindly with a welcome, while her sharp eyes swept over each of her clients faces. Spotting Andrew, her eyes instantly lit up. “And you must be Mister Vance…and family.” Her eyes pointed directly at Andrew, as if recognizing him with a knowing gleam.

“Me?” Andrew blinked with surprise, as well as his family. How did this woman know who he was? Had they met before?

“Many owls whisper in my ear about which of my soon-to-be customers might show up when.” The woman explained to the mystified Andrew. “I was told you might be walking in soon, along with your good old friend, Miss Hill.” The wandkeeper’s eyes turned to Emma, recognizing the second year Ravenclaw at a glance. How this Ollivander knew ahead of time about Andrew’s and Emma’s arrival, well, only magic and perhaps a little Hogwarts staff involvement could answer to that.

"Now then. You have come to look for a wand, yes?" The woman got down to business, taking Andrew’s measurements and then working her way towards the back of the store, browsing her fingers among the shelves lined with narrow boxes while the Vances waited patiently. A few moments later, the woman reappeared. “Let’s have a go with this one.” Over the counter, she extended out a thin rod of wood for Andrew to grasp.

Andrew reached for the sandy-colored wand, feeling nothing extraordinary as he held it in his right hand, examining its long, needle-like shaft.

“Eleven and a quarter inches, cherry wood and unicorn hair,” the woman described. “Stiff, very powerful. Attracted to charismatic and honorable wizards that show great dexterity with magic. . . Go on, wave it around,” she urged Andrew, who stood in place cluelessly for a few seconds, not knowing what to do with the instrument.

Was there a proper way to ‘wave’ a wand? Shrugging off his doubts, Andrew performed a few shake-like wave motions with his wand, wondering if anything was to happen. . . when he felt a force that seemed to build up and generate beneath his fingers, traveling from the handle, through the shaft – and before he even had the chance to voice it out – exploded from the tip of his wand. A bullet of wind shot across the room, shattering a nearby window.

—CRASH!

Splintered pieces of glass burst from the frame and scattered onto the floor, earning shocked gasps from the Vances (as well as a few eyewitnesses that happened to be outside, right next to the shop, when the blast occurred). As if he were holding a hot iron rod, Andrew immediately dropped the wand to the floor and stepped back to distance himself from the landmine, fearing what else might happen if he touched the wand again.

The woman didn’t so much as flinch, as though she were accustomed to these sorts of accidents happening in the shop all the time. With a disappointed sigh, she whipped out her own wand and uttered, “Reparo!”

Shards of glass lifted swiftly off the floor, whirling together as they assembled into place and the clear glass window pane was restored whole, not a crack to be seen. The spectacle garnered the gaped stares of the Vances, who were still new to the bedazzling act of magic. Technically, this misfire was Andrew’s first magic act, despite how much of a freak accident it was. A window had been shattered nevertheless, and only those with magic inside of them could have harnessed any power whatsoever from a wand. The proof was in the…busted window. The revelation of Andrew being a wizard was starting to sink in, although in the midst of all the magic chaos, it hadn’t occurred to the Vances to start rejoicing yet. This whole wand-trying experiment was proving to be more hazardous than they expected.

With another flick of her wand, the woman levitated the fallen wand and summoned it back into her hands. “No, not quite…” She muttered and delved back into the aisles of wand boxes. A few moments later, she emerged, bearing another wand. “Let’s try this one now…”

Andrew wrapped his fingers around the handle of a thicker, dark brown wand with a curvy, spiraled shaft.

“Ten inches, aspen wood and dragon heartstring,” the woman commented. “Very flexible, ideal for dueling. Fond of quick-witted and flexible wizards.”

With another wave of his wand, Andrew’s eyes jolted wide open when – standing in front of the counter – he saw an inkwell, a record book, several rolls of parchment, and a lamp… all “melting” and sinking rapidly into the countertop.

Plucking the wand out of Andrew’s hands (before he had the chance to drop it out of shock again), the woman pulled out her wand at the ready. Uttering another incantation, the acidifying process reversed, the items recovered, and the countertop restored to its natural solid state.

“No, definitely not…” The woman resumed her search, hunting among the shelves and selecting another wand for Andrew to test out. “Perhaps try this one?”

The third and fourth wands didn’t produce any magical effects whatsoever. Both to Andrew’s relief and disappointment.

“Not the first challenge I’ve had. None to worry, Mister Vance, we will find it!” The woman assured with bravado, teetering on the edge of a ladder while reaching for another box.

A fifth one was handed to Andrew. An older, antique-looking, dusky gray-brown wand with a wavy shaft.

“Eleven inches, sycamore wood and phoenix feather. Flexible, very powerful but hard to use. Very selective of the wizard it chooses,” the woman said.

Phoenixes? Images of the mythical fiery bird surfaced in Andrew’s mind. With a hopeful heart, he gave the wand a wave…

—SWOOSH!

A crackling bush of blazing orange blossomed at the back of the shop, causing the Vances to let out a few startled yelps. Andrew’s wand clattered to the floor as he released his hold on it, hoping that by dropping the “match” it would put out the bonfire. Unfortunately, to no avail.

“Oh, dear…” Jumping to her feet a little more urgently, the woman whipped out her wand, extinguishing the flames before they could do any significant damage to the rest of the shop. As wafts of smoke dissipated, she returned to the counter with a more frazzled expression, to retrieve the sycamore wand before digging back through the shelves.

“Let’s see if this has one has more luck for you.” She handed Andrew a sixth wand.

Feeling the grip of the handle, Andrew admired the wand’s craftsmanship. Polished wood with a chestnut red stain… A straight shaft and bead bulb-shaped handle adorned with a gold metal rosette at the handle tip. Something about the wand’s fit felt right. And …familiar? . . . Was it all in his head? …A spark of connection?


"Twelve and a half inches, applewood and thunderbird tail feather. Bendy, powerful. Extremely difficult to control,” the woman remarked.

If it was so difficult to control, then why would she even consider handing it to him? Did she want him to destroy the shop? Andrew thought to himself with exasperation. Nevertheless, he gave the wand a flick, waiting with bated breath…

No sooner did he complete his flick of the wrist that a gentle breeze flowed from the tip of his wand, encircling Andrew with a warm white glow, like a Barbie transformation scene… Well, not quite so blinding, bright, and sparkly… but enchanting and magical all the same. It was a good feeling that swelled up inside Andrew, like a cloud of butterflies in his stomach, but these ones were of the elated, happy kind that sent a joyous rush from head to toe. The wand’s effect lasted for only a brief few seconds, before it wore off, leaving Andrew with a newfound smile on his face.

The woman clapped her hands together in satisfaction. “Splendid union,” she announced. “We have the one!”

“Is it mine?” Andrew spoke up eagerly, turning his attention to the shopkeeper.

“The wand has chosen you, Mister Vance,” the woman replied, emphasizing the wand’s proposal. “That is, if you’re willing to accept it.”

Kyle bounced giddily up to his brother, exclaiming, “Andy, you’re like a Jedi! A superhero! You have superpowers!”

While the Vance children had largely recovered from the spectacle and began chattering excitedly, Mr. and Mrs. Vance were nearly speechless.

“Well, I’ll be… I can’t believe it…” Mr. Vance gave a lightheaded chuckle.

Mrs. Vance didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Overcoming her daze, she hugged her husband ecstatically. “Michael, we have a wizard-baby!”

“Is Andy a wizard now?” Stacy looked back at her parents, while squeezing her arms tightly around Andrew. “Is he going to Hogwarts?”

“He has to go to Hogwarts!” Kyle chimed in.

Realizing that he and his family now had a life-changing decision to make, Mr. Vance shook off his daze and beckoned for his children to calm down. “Hold on, hold on. Andy, put the wand down,” he ordered, motioning for his family to come close. “C’mon, family decision time. Let’s be serious, now; this is important.”

Stepping aside to one corner of the shop, the Vances huddled together for a “private” conversation (not that most of their excited and tense whisperings couldn’t be overheard).

“Andy, this is your decision.” Mr. Vance caught his son’s eye, genuinely seeking out an earnest answer. “Where would you like to go for school? Hogwarts…or Hillstone?”

Andrew didn’t want to hurt his parents’ feelings by answering truthfully, but he had to voice out what his gut instinct was telling him to do. “I want to go to Hogwarts.” He suggested meekly, “I can try it, just for a little bit?”

“I say let’s try it,” Mrs. Vance said supportively, hoping to convince her husband. “It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, not just for everyone. We can go forward with it for now; cancel it later, if anything goes wrong. It’d be a shame not to look around while we’re here.” She hinted towards the window, seeing the Alley outside.

After a contemplative silence, Mr. Vance nodded to his family. “Alright then. Hogwarts it is.” He tugged a small smile.

“Yeah! Woohoo!” Andrew and his siblings broke off from the circle with elated squeals and cheers.

“We’re doing it!” Kyle was the first to dash over to the Hills. “We’re going to Hogwarts! Well, I mean, Andy’s going to Hogwarts, not us, but we’re all doing it with him, sort of.”

Mr. Vance returned to the counter. “How much for the wand?” He asked the shopkeeper.

“That’ll be two galleons, sir,” the woman replied as she folded the wrapping paper around the wand and placed it inside its box for purchase.

“Pardon?” Mr. Vance furrowed his brow at the price, realizing that he wasn’t in ordinary London anymore.

Slightly narrowed eyes met the storekeeper before she took her seat. This wasn't the same Ollivander that helped her receive her and that was evident; this one was a girl, and she didn't feel too comfortable about that. She didn't know much about Ollivander, but Emma was almost sure that he hadn't become ailing or left on vacation, though the time hadn't yet come for school shopping. It was only spring break, why would any student receive their wand now?

Her eyes were fixed upon the people that passed by the shop. She had already been through the process and she didn't want to see another accident explode before her eyes. For the most part, she remained sluggishly in the same spot, physically inside of the shop, though her mind elsewhere. While her parents had chosen to stand, she gratefully took a seat and let her thoughts wander. However, she was snapped out of a trance when her last name was mentioned. It definitely wasn't her mother, so there was only one choice remaining, and that was herself.

"Hm? - Oh, hi." She waved quickly and forced a smile at the unfamiliar shopkeeper and waited till the eyes in the shop were off of her to look down at her hands in her laps. Instead of wondering how the merchant knew about the arrival of the group, she focused on how the woman identified her so easily. This was the first time Emma had ever seen her in the shop; it was the first time she had ever seen her in general. It wasn't like she had an obscure ID floating above her head. However the lady remembered her wasn't her problem, but as the process began she shifted her concentration to the diverse wands on the shelves questioning which would be the lucky one.

As the first wand was handed to Andrew, her arms covered her face to prevent any airborne objects from hitting her face. At first, nothing seemed to happen throughout the shop but she did not lower her guard. All of a sudden a gust of wind flung her hair back and she immediately closed the break in between her arms to prevent any wind from blowing into her eyes. Who said unicorn haired wands couldn't emit powerful magic? When the disturbance had come to an end, she dropped her arms and looked around at the mess created in the shop. Her smile immediately disappeared after looking at the glass on the floor, this was going to take a while.

Something about the second wand seemed to perk Emma's ears up. The wand was dangerously close to her own though this one distinguished from the one she had with her. The only distinction seemed to be the length of the wand, but even that seemed similar. She took the time to look down at her wand on the ground. Her endurance began to weaken as she watched the wandmaker go from shelve to shelve, picking out wands. Whether it was anxiety or her eagerness to explain everything about a wand to the Vances, it caused the time to slow. That wasn't her job, it was Emma's.

Melting books was a definite no, and not even her imagination could come up with anything different. Five wands in and the match had not been found yet. She could hardly contain herself. Bouncing her leg up and down, she momentarily looked at the candy trolley cross the window before returning her eyes back to Andrew who had just begun to try out the fifth wand. Before she could entirely witness the scene, a blazing orange fire had exploded in the store causing Emma to move as far away from the flame as she could, letting the heat brush upon her skin. As pleasant as it felt, it still wasn't the wand; not only the shopkeeper could tell.

If the third time was the charm, this would certainly be it. The saying just took twice as long apparently. She let out an inaudible sigh as the next wand was given to Andrew. After giving the wand a flick, she smiled softly, all the overjoyed impatience leaving her body. Finally, it was time to head home and hopefully not return back to the Alley until the time called in August until the thought hit her hard. They still had to make a decision. This shop was not built for privacy, so it wasn't technically eavesdropping when she began to listen to the Vances talk. Her heart began to hammer against her chest as she monitored their conversation. The Ravenclaw looked down at their feet to avoid being caught. Suddenly, she felt her heart drop, but in the best way possible. Like a huge plunge on a rollercoaster, she felt her stomach numb, making it practically impossible to express her thoughts into words. She acknowledged Kyle with a mix between a scream, (but mostly) a squeal and of course, a hug.

"Wizards' currency." Mr. Hill explained briefly, reaching into his back pocket to withdraw some of his with a chuckle. He withdrew two golden coins that were twice as big than an ordinary coin. Rather than using the head of a prominent individual, the structure of a dragon that he easily recognized from his field of study had replaced. He handed the money to the woman, taking the wand from the counter and handing it to Andrew. "Don't worry though, I've got it. We'll worry about Gringotts later, and I believe this is officially yours."

"Wanna go get ice cream?" The brunette suggested, twirling her own wand in between her fingers. She simply just couldn't stop smiling.

When Mr. Hill produced the shiny gold coins from his pocket, Andrew’s eyes widened in surprise at what he thought looked like gold doubloons from a pirate movie, what felt like a mix between historical and fantasy vibes. Then again, wizards and witches sort of fell into that category, so it kind of made sense to him that the currency would reflect and pay homage to the olden time era.

While it might have been polite for them to protest just a little bit at Mr. Hill’s offer to pay, the Vances were grateful for his intervention. Andrew’s eyes lit up with delight as he received the wand box in his hands, trying hard to contain himself from bouncing with joy, as if he were experiencing Christmas and his birthday all at once. He wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the right words to express his all his bubbly feelings and emotions, except for an awestruck “Thank you, Mr. Hill.”

“They have ice cream here?” Kyle asked, as if he were stunned that Diagon Alley might have some “normal” human resemblance to a regular London shopping center.

“Can we?” The Vance children begged their parents, clearly enthused by Emma’s proposal.

“Well, what do you think? Shall we celebrate?” Mr. Vance looked at his wife for consent, although he already knew what her answer would be. Both were keen on the idea, which showed on their faces, expressing their approval, followed by an affirmative “yes”. Who could say no to ice cream? After a grand opening of stress and excitement, perhaps a little frozen treat was just the thing to help them relax and unwind a little, before embarking on the next step of Andrew’s wizarding journey.

Andrew’s smile was equally radiating, along with the rest of his family, as they exited the shop with the Hills, heading on their way to the ice cream parlor. As much as Andrew wanted to unwrap his wand and play some more spells with it, he managed to resist the urge, and placed the box inside one of the tote bags that his parents had brought along for shopping. As a family, they were all in this together. For better or for worse. They had taken the leap and made the plunge with him. As long as he was interested in pursuing this wizarding path, Andrew's family would stand behind him in full support.

It was a good thing he had brought his Hogwarts letter with him. Andrew had crammed it into his shoulder bag on the off chance that it might come in handy, in case he might have to present it to the authorities in charge of this whole who-becomes-a-wizard issuing business. Not that he really had any expectations for what he might encounter in Diagon Alley, when he first woke up this morning, but the outcome was beyond his wildest dreams of what he thought ever could be. He was really...truly...a wizard. And now, in the blink of an eye, he was preparing himself for Hogwarts. The Supply List that came with the letter would prove to be essential, as Andrew and his family readied themselves for a day of school shopping ahead of them.