The Wandmaker

Close To You

Even before Symbida saw it, she felt it.

A tingling in her palms, coupled with an unexplainable soar of joy and an unconscious smile on her lips. Her heart rate lifted and began to thrum a steady beat in her chest, seemingly for no real reason.

She had no clue where the middle-aged wizard had hurried off to, nor what he was doing or searching for. She stood by the front doorway, her small stature dominated by the old architectural structure. To an onlooker, such as you and I, as the moments ticked by, nothing seemed to change. She simply cast her eyes around the room, looking mindlessly at the books and boxes, chests and candles, shelves and stairs, noting small details of age-old scratches, broken book spines or precariously slumped shelves heaving the weight of thousands of words.

Even as the tingling and her smile began to grow greater, nothing about her demeanour changed. Inside, she was slowly becoming overcome with a happiness she had seldom experienced the entire year. Only when Ollivander's steps were heard coming from the depth of the building did her body language change - her shoulders lifted with every step and she trained her eyes on the doorway to the far room, her one good fist clenched in anticipation, not knowing what she was waiting for.

It happened so quickly -

The wizard passed through the doorway into Symbida's sight, looking down at the small dark blue box in his hands. Before he could even look up to acknowledge the young witch, the lid of the box flew off and clattered to the ground. A blur flew from the box  simultaneously as Symbida's good hand lifted up without a conscious cue, and the vine wand - her vine wand - zipped into her open palm with a satisfying slap!

- and immediately, even with an injured arm, Symbida was whole again.

They both stood frozen for a second, staring in strange disbelief. Slowly Symbida's fingers curled around the wood, like a delayed embrace to an unexpected hugger, and her heart rate returned to its regular rhythm. Her grin stretched her cheeks so much they ached, but she did not care. This is what she had been waiting for. Yes, this was what magic felt like!

Meanwhile, Ollivander quietly processed the event, and began to take a mental note on the wand's behaviour.

Although he had been surprised by its dramatic speed, he had been expecting some sort of reaction from the perplexing object. Indeed, considering the first encounter between the witch and the wand had been no less than literal fireworks, it would have been very strange for nothing to happen. Secretly he was cheering for a breakthrough with the wand, that stubborn thing that had remain resolute through all his curious poking, prodding and experimentation. The wand's response closed one door, and opened a full corridor of doors bursting with questions, sleepless nights, and potential danger.

There was no way he could let this mystery rest now.

The middle-aged wizard looked at the young girl and saw her smile, far brighter than he had ever seen, and the way she held the vine hand close to her chest. Please Merlin, he thought to himself, let this be the right decision.

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"Fetch the floo powder, my dear," the wizard instructed, readying the small fireplace with logs to build a roaring fire.

"Yessir!" the witch replied enthusiastically, and looked at the wand in her hand with uncontained excitement. After pausing for a few seconds to recall the right spell from her Hogwarts lessons, she took her stance and lifted her good arm. "Accio floo powder!" she cried.