𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀: Please read the description for any possible triggers before proceeding. This story will currently take place in their first year at HOGWARTS, but the reader and the mentioned characters are not necessarily eleven. I've switched it to FOUR SCHOOL YEARS instead, students starting at the age of sixteen. With that being said, happy reading. ☺︎︎☺︎︎☺︎︎
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The paper crumples in my palm as I shove it back in the pouch of my skirt.
Well, that's the majority of them checked off from this niggling list. All but a wand.
I step out of Madam Malkin's with the biggest sigh I could muster. A trip to the Diagon Alley was quite pesky today—streets and shops invariably clustered with witches and wizards, and completely berserk at midday.
I knew better to tend for my supplies earlier, though brother didn't bother take me along with him and left with his friends. Regarded as the youngest, I'm frequently over-written by brother and father. However, misleadingly adored by the public seeing as we're one with a well-wheeled—though, dreadful—lifestyle, and admired for a lengthy record of reasons. A rare cause some might say, is our longest line for purest blood.
The Min family.
Not a single half-blood in our bloodline. And a family who never betrayed their Slytherin blood. I'm just about to carry that title as I am about to start my first year at Hogwarts. School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
But despite the frantic environment and constantly receiving unwanted attention—if it meant having freedom from father's relentless squabble, I'd even give a nundu a peck for it.
The thought of having a smooth, easy-going day was now thrown out the window through visiting Ollivander: the expert wand-maker.
"If it isn't Min (Y/N) ! I've been waiting,"
He claims to have remembered every wand he's sold throughout his life. Explaining my parents', even.
"I'll have to let you know, that brother of yours dropped by not too long ago to repair his wand's minor damage. Black walnut wood with unicorn hair core, thirteen inches, and unyielding flexibility," says Ollivander. All i could do is nod and listen. Maybe doze off a bit but I try to not lose my deceiving interest. "And I know just the right wand for you, Min (Y/N). Come now, give it a flick !"
Which, I did do but his drawers manage to open and papers flew all over the place.
After that small 'incident', I ended up trying five more wands which don't seem to work.
