Percy Jackson and the Triwizard Tournament [Book 4]

63) My Sword Is Underweight - I'll Give it a Diet of Monsters and Mayhem

"Mademoiselle Delacour, could we have you first, please?" Ollivander said, stepping into the middle of the room. Fleur walked over to him, and handed him her wand. "Hmmm..." He twirled the wand around his fingers and it emitted pink sparks. He then held it close to his eyes, examining it carefully. "Yes, nine and a half inches... inflexible... rosewood... and containing... dear me..."

"An 'air from ze 'ead of a veela," Fleur said. "One of my grandmuzzer's."

"Yes," Ollivander said, "yes, I've never used veela hair myself, of course. I find it makes for rather temperamental wands... however, to each his own, and if it suits you..." He ran his fingers along the side, checking for bumps or scratches. He muttered a spell, and a bunch of flowers burst from the tip of the wand. "Very well, very well, it's in fine working order." He scooped up the flowers and handed them to Fleur. "Mr. Diggory, you next."

Fleur glided back to her seat, smiling at Cedric as he walked past.

"Ah, now, this is one of mine, isn't it?" Ollivander said, much more enthusiastic as he examined the wand. "Yes, I remember it well. Containing a single hair from the tail of a particularly fine male unicorn... must have been seventeen hands; nearly gored me with his horn after I plucked his tail. Twelve and a quarter inches... ash... pleasantly springy. It's in fine condition.... You treat it regularly?"

"Polished it last night," Cedric grinned.

I grimaced. I sharpened my sword, and I kept it from rusting and stuff like that, but I don't think I'd ever polish it. By the way Harry was trying to clean his wand of smudges (it shot golden sparks, and he stopped after Fleur shot him a look), I knew he didn't clean his wand either.

Ollivander shot some sick smoke rings out of Cedric's wand, and said, "Mr. Krum, if you please." Krum stood you and walked over to Ollivander, silently handing him his wand. "Hmm... this is a Gregorovitch creation, unless I'm much mistaken? A fine wand-maker, though the styling is never quite what I... however..." He lifted the wand and examined it closely. "Yes... hornbeam and dragon heartstring?" Krum nodded. "Rather thicker than one usually sees... quite rigid... ten and a quarter inches.... Avis!" The wand let off a bang, and several small, twittering birds shot out of the end, circled around the ceiling a few times, then flew out the window. "Good." He handed Krum back his wand. "Which leaves... Mr. Potter."

Harry shot me a glance, then climbed to his feet. He handed his wand to Ollivander.

"Aaaah, yes," Ollivander held the wand carefully. "Yes, yes, yes. How well I remember." How well I could remember, too. Four years ago, on Harry's eleventh birthday, Hagrid had brought the two of us to Diagon Alley. In Ollivander's, I'd gotten my own wand. He'd pulled me into the back of the store, where I'd gone through 283 wands built for Poseidon kids, until I finally found mine. It was a beautiful sea glass, and it glinted like ocean water in the light. It's core was a hybrid feather — the child of pegasus and a hippocampus, who were both children of a unicorn — and it pulsed with magic. It changed colors often, from a shiny white to a scaly green to a midnight black. There were also sea shell shavings scattered around the feather. The wand was nine inches long, and completely inflexible. It was loyal to me and to me only. I could also remember when Harry had gotten his wand, and how his wand's core had a brother. The Phoenix feather in Harry's wand came from the Phoenix that gave Voldemort's wand it's core.

Ollivander examined Harry's wand for a long time. Longer than he had with anyone else's. Finally, he made wine shoot from its end, and Harry joined the rest of us in the chairs.

"Mr. Jackson," Ollivander said, smiling. I walked over to him. "I presume you will be using your sword instead of your wand?"

"Yup," I handed him Riptide — in pen form — and he examined it for a long moment.