B.Q. Book One: Princess of the Blacks

Chapter 18: Prep Work

Disclaimer: Did Harry try to get around the rule that teachers couldn't help him prepare for the Triwizard? If not, I don't own the Harry Potter franchise; it belongs to J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Warner Bros., and whoever else she sold the rights to.
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Jen stopped outside the ground floor classroom, double-checking that she had her prop, that her anti-Veela charm was in place, and that her blindfold was hidden. Deciding it was best to be cautious, she wove a charm into the cloth to make it unnoticeable. There was a risk that someone could catch a glimpse of it through her fringe, and she wouldn't be able to modify the witnesses' memories here like she did when a few nosy Badgers had discovered her disability. Though some of them very much deserve their fates. I'd feel sorry for doing it so many times to that Perks girl, but she has utterly no concept of personal space.

The room itself was small and only made smaller by the desks piled up in the back of the room. A long, velvet-draped table took up the front, and standing at the far end was Ollivander the wandmaker. The school heads and the other champions were standing about and conversing softly. After a moment, Bagman, who was seated with Crouch and a witch she didn't recognize, spotted her and pranced over.

"Ah, Miss Black! Good, good, you're the last one we were waiting for. Come in, there's nothing to worry about, just a brief wand weighing. You'll be out of here in a matter of minutes."

She nodded and sidled over towards Diggory as the man clamored for the others' attentions. After informing her aunts about her selection as the junior champion, they had sent Loki back with a warning of this very event and a spare wand she could use. Thankfully it was made of the same wood as her blank, so no one should notice a difference.

"All right, everyone! We have Garrick Ollivander here with us to check that your wands are in proper order. They're the most important tools in the tasks ahead, you know. Anyway, after that, there's going to be a little photo shoot." He indicated the unknown woman. "This is Rita Skeeter of the Daily Prophet. She's doing a small piece on the tournament—"

"Maybe not that small, Ludo," Skeeter said, a nasty undertone to her voice. "This is a historic event, after all."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "That will have to take place after the actual weighing, Rita. We don't want to waste Mr. Ollivander's time when he graciously agreed to do this for us. Garrick, if you would?"

"You're paying me," the old man replied. "Let us have the ladies first. Fraulein Eberhardt, if you would step up here?"

Eberhardt stepped closer to Ollivander and handed over her wand. He held it close to his eyes, muttering softly. "This is a Holzhauer wand, is it not? I had the pleasure of meeting him just last year. A young man, certainly, new to the craft and with some strange ideas, yes, but I will not deny that he has talent. A hair under ten inches, maple and phoenix feather." He idly conjured a misshapen block of wood and rolled the wand between his fingers. "Maple has never liked me much, I'm afraid, but I believe this is in good condition."

The German girl moved away as Delacour strode imperiously forward for Ollivander to repeat his examination and confirm her Veela heritage. Then it was Jen's turn.

"Hmm, so you did find a wand. After your display in my shop, I had wondered."

"Yes, sir. It turns out that my family's legacy wands were more in tune with my personality."

The corner of his mouth quirked. "From our previous encounter, that doesn't surprise me overly much. May I see which one chose you?" She handed the wand over, taking great pains that she did not allow magic to flow into it. If she did, the wand would burn to ash, just like the one in Ollivander's shop did. "Ah, I remember this wand, remember it quite well. Made by my father, you see, and wielded by Arcturus Black, the previous Head of the Blacks. Thirteen inches, dragon heartstring and fir from the uppermost reaches of Russia. Excellent wood for those who survive, and even thrive, in situations others would find inhospitable. Fir wands are also called to bearers with an intimidating demeanor, which fit Arcturus perfectly." He returned it to her after conjuring more wood and said, "Take good care of this wand, Miss Black, and you will go far."