Elysia Riddle [A Harry Potter Fan Fiction]

Chapter Thirteen ~ The Wand

Ollivander's wide blue eyes studied me for a few moments, until he hesitantly brought out another box. Seeing as nearly every piece of furniture in the store had been destroyed, I figured that he didn't really have much more to lose. Literally.

Snape's obsidian black eyes followed my every mood, waiting patiently for the correct wand to find me. I bit my lip nervously, seeing that there was even a slight possibility that I would have to go elsewhere for a wand, humiliating.

The wand he placed in my hands looked like an average twig, snapped freshly off of a tree. Slightly disappointed at it's lack of decoration, I knew immediately that this also wasn't 'the one'. Rather than physically injuring anybody gathered in the room, I lay the wand on the counter-top and boldly announced,

"This isn't the one."

Ollivander's eyebrows arched in surprise, but he nodded nonetheless and restored it to his box. Sighing, he seemed ready to admit defeat. My rib cage deflated, a physical personification of my own mood at that current time, I looked sadly back to Snape, who kept his lips pursed.

"Well... We must go to Gregorovitch, I suppose Dumbledore could haul in a favour..." declared Snape, ready to turn and leave.

I had heard of Gregorovitch, a famous European wandmaker. I had had my heart set on receiving my wand from Ollivander, who was famous for his quality wands. I bit hard on my plump, bottom lip, urging myself to hold in the tears. I realised that I looked like a sulky pre-teen, but I couldn't help it.

"Wait!" called out Ollivander, spinning to run in to his tiny office that was burrowed beside the long shelf.

Snape showed the hint of a smile, before pausing and awaiting Ollivander's return. I realised with a shock, that Snape had been planning this the entire time, planning to trick Ollivander to finding one more wand. It was completely cliché that he thought that the very last wand would be mine, yet I still hoped.

Walking back to the counter, I scanned the room for further furniture to destroy, and I realised that I hadn't yet pulverised the wand shelf. Ollivander returned bearing two boxes, laying them squarely on the table. His face was slightly reddened in shame, but spoke still.

"These wands... are not mine. A very faithful apprentice made them a long time ago, sadly he... Passed away." stuttered Ollivander, revealing a mysterious crest on the boxes.

Nodding solemnly, I decided to take it upon myself to open the first box. The box held a thick coat of wax, keeping it pristine. The crimson colouring made it stand out amongst all other boxes. Fearlessly, I pulled off the lid and saw the wand held within.

It was gray, with darker flecks coursing through it. It's only decoration was a snake wrapped around it handle tightly, before slithering down to make it's head the very tip of the wand. No, no, no... I couldn't have this wand as my own, it would only prove my heritage did have an affect.

I looked back at Snape, trying to personify my dislike of the wand without alerting Ollivander. However, I lifted the wand, and to my utter surprise, nothing happened. I swung it, and swung it more, but nothing happened. Smiling, i replaced the wand in the box, before looking to the next box.

This box held a royal blue, velvet covering. The unusual crest that had been burnt in to the crimson box was instead inked in to this one. I looked around for the approval of the gathered men, before opening the lid to reveal the wand within.

"11 and half inches, hazel... It is unusual, because he chose to use two different woods... The true core of the wand is hazel, but he created a frame for it, made out of Australian Eucalyptus. The problem with Eucalyptus is that it is generally brittle, and though powerful for wands, easily broken. But, somehow, he strengthened the frame beyond belief, and it is nearly unbreakable."