Luminescent

Chapter 10

The last shop that Minnie directed me to was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as we stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that McGonagall sat on to wait. There were thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic. For some reason, the back of my neck prickled. I shudder for an unknown reason.

The shop was empty. No one was at the counter. Impatiently, I rang the bell at the counter. Still, there isn't any indication that someone will serve us.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice behind me. My heart skipped a beat. I flinched. I turned around quickly into a fighting stand that Uncle Fury drilled into my head. My fist raised preparing for an attack yet I only saw an old man standing. He had a wrinkled face, silver hair and wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

"Hello," I said awkwardly, lowering my fists. .

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon Tony Stark." It wasn't a question. Why did it seem that he was expecting me? "It seems only yesterday Minerva was in here herself, buying her wand. It was 9 1⁄2 inches long, made of fir wood, and had a dragon heartstring core. A wand was very well suited to Transfiguration."

"Good afternoon, Garrick. Will you never grow tired of repeating that every time we meet?" said McGonagall, sounding resigned but with a hint of a smile.

Garrick Ollivnder's eyes twinkled with amusement as he turned to greet Professor McGonagall. "Ah, Minerva, you know me too well," he said with a gentle laugh. "But it's not every day one meets such remarkable individuals as yourself and young Mr. Stark here."

Tony looked up at McGonagall, feeling a mixture of curiosity and excitement. "Professor McGonagall, you bought your wand here too?"

"Indeed, Tony," McGonagall replied, her eyes softening as she looked down at him. "Every witch and wizard passes through these doors when they first come into their magic. It's a rite of passage."

Ollivander nodded in agreement. "And now, it's your turn, Mr. Stark. Let's find the perfect wand for you. Hmmm, let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?"

"I'm right-handed," I responded. "Hold out your arm. That's it." He measured me from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. How was all of this relevant for a wand? As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Stark. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

I was so intrigued by what he was saying that I did not immediately realise that the tape measure, which was measuring between his nostrils, was doing this on its own. Mr. Ollivander was flitting around the shelves, and began to pull down boxes from the shelves, each wand more intriguing than the last.

"That will do," he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. "Right then, Mr. Stark. Try this one. Willow and Dragon Heartstring 10.75 inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave."

I took the wand, feeling a bit foolish for waving, and then dozens of boxes were thrown on the floor. Ollivander snatched the wand in my hand. Not even batting his eyelashes at the destruction. "These won't do. Try this one, Hazel and Phoenix Feather. " I gave it a small wave, hesitating a bit. This time a vase exploded.