The Wandmaker

A New Wand, A New Future

C H A P T E R n i n e

Ollivander had spent the time after Lampurn's fiery visit in tense anticipation. He had built plan after plan in his head, trying to find some sort of loophole in the strict orders the headmistress had explicitly given, but there was no way out. He could downright refuse the poor girl a wand, but that would just lead to Lampurn acquiring the wand elsewhere. He was at loss at what to do, and as a result he had slept very little the last night.

And now they were coming.

The owl that had delivered the message to expect both the headmistress and the student within the hour was looking at him curiously as he wrung his hands and bustled around the shop, pushing boxes and papers off shelves in his haste. He wasn't really in much of a hurry - everything was already as tidy as it was going to get - but he was just trying to keep his mind off the looming thought of the two witches coming.

So when the bell chimed twice, once clanging loudly and vigorously, and then again, but quieter, more reserved and much more timid, Ollivander froze in his frenzied state and made his way to the front of the shop with a heavy feeling of dread weighing down on his shoulders.

He saw them silhouetted first, in the mid-morning sunlight. The headmistress with her crazy, curly hair and her thin, spindly and upright posture, and the slumped, defeated posture of the tiny eleven year old cowering in her shadow.

Lampurn turned to him as he emerged from the shelves. "I trust you got my message then, Mr Ollivander?"

He scowled. "There's no need for formalities, Lampurn. We all know why you're here." He strode over to the shelves and snatched a box down. "You come, change the wand for a boring wand, crush the poor kid's hopes and dreams, and so on, and so on. Don't try and dress it up in pretty words and flattering titles." He slammed the box on the table with a deep scowl.

Raising her sharp eyebrows in acknowledgement, the headmistress turned and smiled coldly at Symbida. She stepped forward, her movements robotic, and stared at Ollivander with the most horrible expression he had ever seen. It was so full of heartbreak, dread, and absolute fear that he had to pause to regain his composure.

Keeping his eyes on her the whole time, he open the box on table and drew out the wand. Breaking eye contact to hold the wand up to the light and study it, he realised with a strange twinge that it was the same wand that had chosen her a year ago - the plain old mahogany wand. Immediately he wanted to put it away, to pull out a new wand that wouldn't have so much sentiment attached to it, but he couldn't. Not while Lampurn was there, making sure everything went according to her plan.

Ollivander saw the exact moment the young girl realised it was the mahogany wand. He saw her eyes widen in disbelief, her eyebrows raise in horror and any remaining courage slip from her face. He saw the second where the reality of the young girl's doomed future set on her face, saw the despair written as clear as day all over her features.

"No... please, sir... not that one... please, just please... not that wand... anything but that... please," she begged, shaking her head desperately. Lampurn stepped forward and grasped her arm in a steel grip.

"No, no, you silly, stupid child. That will be the wand you'll get. Mr Ollivander, I believe this wand will be perfect." The headmistress said. "Now, girl, hand him your old wand. It wasn't ever meant for you anyway."