The cobblestone pavement below her shoed feet dipped up and down strangely, some parts worn smooth with frequent use, and some seeming brand new. The sky above her was tinged grey with deepened nimbostratus, foretelling a soon falling rainfall that would surely prove quite troubling indeed if she was to stay outside much longer. Various shoppes with large metal signs hung high above them on decorated iron poles lined the brick walls and the small number of people wandering the streets on the fine cloudy day seemed almost laughable compared to the crowd in front of the Leaky Cauldron.

"Astrea." Her father's stern voice claimed her attention, grave and faintly annoyed in its natural tone, and she turned upon her heel to face him completely, for he would be most displeased if she were to merely turn her head or- heaven forbid- answer him without eye contact in the slightest.

"Yes, father?" She asked neutrally, smoothing out her wander-struck appearance back into one of cool indifference as she stared into Byung-hee's slate grey eyes.

Her mother sneered lightly to the side as she sniffed haughtily toward a mousy-looking boy roughly her age hustling by. Sovann's pale hands were in a pair of fine black silk gloves that wrinkled slightly as she clutched the crook of her husband's offered hand- and along with their sweeping dark garments and Byung-hee's emerald encrusted cane, the pair looked for all the world like the perfect high bred pureblood purists they were.

Her father raised an eyebrow as she stood in her place, motioning silently for her to come closer. s Astrea did what was instructed in a few sharp steps, the patriarch handed his decorative cane toward his wife- to which the dark-haired woman accepted courteously as she let go of his arm- and knelt down to speak eye-to-eye with his heir, uncaring of how his black slacks bent strangely in favour of speaking to her of a seemingly far more important manner.

"I have enough galleons here for you to purchase your school supplies for the year. Do not think that you can get away with buying frivolous items- gobstones, chocolate frogs, pets, or any of the sort- there will be consequences." Her father glared at her menacingly, forcing Astrea to stifle a shudder as her father dropped a small purse of heavy gold into her outstretched hand.

"Affirmative, father." Astrea nodded curtly as she accepted the item, unwilling to upset her parents too harshly- especially after the fiasco where she had watched an illegitimately borne second cousin of her's being forsaken within the barren dungeons under the manor.

Her mother levelled eye contact with Astrea as Byung-hee stood up and brushed off his knees, replacing her husband's frown with her own."I mean it."

And with that, they had apparated away and Astrea was alone in the middle of Diagon Alley, saddled with a task that would be accompanied by no other adult.

The wind strengthened slightly as she shook out her shoulders to straighten out the extra tension that always came with the presence of her parents, and started the school shopping.

The sky had darkened slightly as she had continued walking, the black trenchcoat she had on billowing dramatically with the periodically assaulting wind. Clutching it a bit tighter to herself, Astrea kept a firm grip upon the coin purse as she scanned Diagon Alley for Ollivanders, the most famed wand-supply in the Wizarding World, and frequented by prospective Hogwarts alumni- new and old.

From the distance, Astrea could see through squinted eyes a brushed bronze circular sign hanging from a jutted iron pole. From where she was, she spotted twin cylindrical window areas, gilded gold lettering cut off from the angle, yet still distinctly claiming the store to be "Ollivanders". Bingo. Astrea started forward, flattening down the collar of her crisp button up that had flown up to slap at her jaws and jerking her head to one side for a split-second to free her ebony tresses of hair from her shoulders.

The trek was rather short, though the wind had suddenly strengthened in its power once, causing her to surprisedly stumble backwards as she walked forward. Stopping suddenly to examine the phonebox-blue painted store, Astrea could see the Times New Roman Font above the single pull door claim "Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C." Interesting, very interesting indeed. Just how old was this man, or his family line, if they were to continue their wand-making career all the way until 2019? They must have tracked back to the Romans, who had conquered Britain around the time and settled.

As Astrea made the decision to walk inside, she straightened up the red-trimmed knit pullover sweater she wore to rest naturally over her polo and dark trousers, while still looking smooth under her jacket. Just to look a bit more presentable and less dishevelled. The inside of the store was packed full of bookshelves of unlabeled wand boxes- solid red, green, and beige painted wood washed out slightly by the dim light of the candle-lit lanterns hung around. Tall windows to the front of the store shone forward a bit of extra light, causing a rickety wooden staircase to Astrea's left to be seen, as well as a countertop underneath it. A large, leather-bound ledger was atop the surface, with a quill and inkpot to the side, and various posts thumb-tacked to a board on the wall. It was quiet inside, except for the sound of the wind battering the windows outside and the faint shuffling of another in the store.

Astrea, wandering forward toward the countertop, was soon greeted from within one of the various bookshelf aisles that were squeezed together by the owner of the shop.

"Garrick Ollivander? My name is Astrea Soleil Neptune-Chou, I'm here to purchase a wand." Astrea introduced herself, nodding her head curtly once in polite greeting.

Garrick Ollivander's pale eyes lit up slightly, a wise spark of acknowledgement, as she informed him of her purpose in his shop. He looked to be a kindly old man, with a wrinkled face that was rumored among her cousins to be prone to fits of excitement the longer a wand choosing took, and thinning bushy white hair that reminded her distinctly of the Muggle scientists from a few decades back that she read about in her lessons- what was his name? Ah yes, Einstein. Albert Einstein. The other seemed almost too thin in his age, slack skin draping over fragile-looking bones.

"But of course! I remember your parents, Byung-Hee Neptune and Sovann Chou, was it not?" Ollivander smiled slightly as he remembered her parents' own choosing, as if fondly- though Astrea would have never believed her family line to be anything than the way they were to her now. She nodded in approval as he listed off their names.

"Ah. Byung-Hee Neptune- 30.5 centimetres. Pine with a core of basilisk horns, stiff flexibility. Sovann Chou- Hawthorn wood, Veela hair core, 29.8 centimetres. Slightly Yielding. I remember them." Astrea watched the man bustle around the tiny shop, going behind the countertop and hunching to grab a tape measure. The tool sparked slightly with golden tendrils of magic as Ollivander neared her.

"But enough about them. Arms out, please." Astrea did as what was bid, stretching out her arms and being measured from head to toe, arm to arm, hairline to her eyebrows. All by work of the measure and the measure itself as it's owner stood back to take notes.

"I see, I see. Let us see this one." The Neptune-Chou heir let down her arms and watched with a learned stiff posture as he looked through the wand boxes before suddenly pausing on one of them.

Astrea deposited a total of 7 galleons upon the countertop as she waited, counting the golden coin carefully and mentally making calculations on how much everything she needed was. Ollivander turned back around to face her with a box of grey, cracking open the case and pulling out a fine-grained ivory-toned wand with a twirled texture that reminded her of curled bone. Or perhaps it was just her slightly tainted imagination.

"Here, try this one. 25.4 centimetres, aspen wood, unicorn tail hair. Solid. Famed for its charmswork and looks." Ollivander held out the wand box toward her, to which she took the peculiar instrument. She spun it slightly in an attempt to familiarize, to which a chorus of various bells started to ring in discord from the very back of the shop, noisy and chaotic. The wandmaker snatched away the wand from her hand suddenly, to a very surprised Astrea, and took out his own wand to place his shop into harmony once more, if not for a moment.

"Of course not, apologies for that, Astrea. Let's see-" Ollivander shambled back over to place the box in the correct spot and look for another.

In came a wand of ebony wood and phoenix feather, with a length of 30 centimetres and flexibility of reasonably supple. Taken to those of non-conformist ways and well-made for Transfiguration. Out came the golden-spiderwebbed wand, with a bang of noise and tumbling of books.

A 28.95-centimetre hazel wand with dragon heartstring and unbending flexibility. Emotionally sensitive, incredibly devoted, and able to cast powerful spells if in good hands. A sudden zap and almost scalded palm.

With each failed attempt, Astrea was getting a bit frustrated and discouraged. Many of these wands, with rather decent rumoric omens surrounding them, were not fitting with her, betrayed her in surprising ways. And yet, as she watched Ollivander walk around the tiny room to different bookshelves with his fragile form and spring in his step, she found that the other seemed to become even more chipper with every missed wand.

"This is a possibility... Try this one out. 25.9 centimetre. Cherry wood and dragon heartstring, fairly flexible. Attracted by the naturally lucky, with a powerful potential for brilliance."

As Astrea carefully handled the wand with the same tenderness as the other wands, she could feel something distinctly different about it. The cherry wood was carved beautifully- much more intricate in woodworking than the others, with a spiralling base and fine grain- but that wasn't just it. Something deep in her chest seemed to have shifted, something new. The sudden rush of energy that cycled through her, the energy that seemed to pulse in the same rhythm to her disheartened heartbeat- gave her the vertigo of belonging so hard it made her stumble slightly, wide-eyed with shock and giddy with awe. And physically, the beautiful wand glowed with devotion, Japanese runes upon the body that she didn't see before gleaming in the dim candlelight.

Ollivander smiled in reserved happiness as Astrea looked up at him with a rare grin. "Perfect. It was a gift from a friend in Japan, hand carved the runes from cherry branches he grew in his garden. Your combination is rather prestigious in Mahoutokoro, and powerful magic can be produced."

The adrenaline of choosing slid slowly away from her as she examined the wand carefully, leaving her energized in more of a way she had ever felt in her life. "Thank you, sir-" Astrea bowed slightly with a dip of her head and angling of her spine to the old man, who had already pocketed the money.

Ollivander smiled at her in response, pale eyes lighting up with amusement.

"But of course, young woman. It seems to be rather taken to you."

fin.