All The Magic We Made (Sebastian Sallow x Fem!OC)

I Buy A Stick And I Am Ecstatic

Dittany seeds, spellcrafts, potion recipes...check, check, check.

The last thing on the list is a wand. After getting distracted and wandering yet again, I arrive at Ollivander's Wand Shop. I push open the door, a little bell ringing to announce my arrival.

There's nobody at the front desk, and the shop is dusty and a little dark, so I'm not sure if it's even open. I walk further inside, looking around at the shelves lining the walls, all filled to the top with small, slender wooden boxes.

"Hello?" I call.

All of a sudden, an elderly man appears behind the front desk on a sliding ladder. His wild, white hair sticks up in all directions, and I can feel his piercing gaze examining me from behind his spectacles.

"So you are the new fifth year," he says softly. "I was told to be expecting you."

"Are you Mr. Ollivander, sir?" I ask, feeling a little unsettled by his sudden appearance.

"I am! Welcome to Ollivander's Wand Shop, the product of the finest wandmakers in the world, he announces. "And you are in need of your first wand."

I nod, glad to be back on track. "Could you help me?"

"But of course!" he exclaims, coming around the front counter and walking around the shop, examining all the boxes on the shelves. "Yes, yes, let us see here..."

He delicately retrieves a box from the shelf, opening it and retrieving a dark wand. He hands it to me with great care, excitement shining in his eyes. "Ash wood, dragon heartstring core, nine inches. Whippy. Give it a wave."

I take the wand gingerly and give it a swish. Nothing happens. I tilt my head, swishing it again. A vase shatters violently.

I cover my mouth in horror. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry."

"No, no, that's alright," Mr. Ollivander says, putting the wand back in the box. "That most certainly was not the right fit. Here, try this one instead."

We go through one, two, three more wands, and I can tell that Mr. Ollivander is getting increasingly perplexed. He hands me another wand, this time more confident than he was with the others. "This is the one. I am sure of it."

I take the wand, taking in its rich brown colour and the little engravings of fern leaves along the sides. The handle is hollow, leaving behind an intricate twist of wood in it's wake. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, and when I grasp onto it, I can feel its power pulsing in my veins. A glow surrounds my hand holding the wand as a dramatic breeze comes out of nowhere, like this is some kind of A-grade cinematic project.

"What did I tell you!" Mr. Ollivander exclaims in glee. I'd be just as excited, maybe even more, if I wasn't so starstruck by this gorgeous item that I can now call mine. "The wand chooses the witch! 10 3/4 inches, rosewood, unicorn hair core, slightly yielding. A magnificent one indeed."

"It's beautiful, sir," I manage to say, looking up at him with an undeniable expression of pure awe. "Thank you, truly."

"Why, of course!" he says. "We can expect great things from you with that wand, I am sure of it."