The Witch's Daughter: Book 1| The Sea of Stone

Chapter 10| I see Percy again . . . or not

 IMPORTANT!!!! This is being rewritten, so it is currently in progress . . . . it'll be finished maybe tomorrow or the day after that, depending on if I can get back on the computer again.

“Hello Hec,” Gramps half shouted as he hugged Gran. He passed Andrea a pile of brand new books, she looked at the cover of a few; The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1), A History of Magic, A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration, Magical Drafts and Potions, and One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi.

“Do I really get to learn all this in my first year?” she asked incredulously. Gramps chuckled.

“You just wait. You got six more years in front of you. I got you your potion ingredients too. Now all you need now is robes, a cauldron, couple other things for Potions—scales and whatnot, and a wand.”

“A wand?”

“Yes, best get it at Ollivander’s, best wands in the world. You go on now, Hec and me will get your other things.” With that, he and Gran hurried away to Madame Malkin’s Robes for all Occasions, leaving Andrea to her own devices.

Muttering, she turned to enter the wand shop; the sign above her said: Ollivander’s: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. The whole place looked as if it were several hundred years old, a single wand rested on a dusty purple cushion in an equally dusty window. It was impossible to see past the window.

Just as she was going in, a thin boy with messy black hair and bright green eyes rushed out. They collided with each other, knocking the other to the ground.

“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you there," she got to her feet. "Percy! It’s good to see you again,” Andrea exclaimed happily, jumping up and helping him up.

“S’alright. I didn’t see you either; but . . . I'm not Percy.” the strange boy said, pushing his round glasses back onto his nose. Now that she looked closer, Andrea could notice definite differences. Percy’s hair was a dark, almost inky black, and his eyes were a deeper green, like the ocean on a clear day, this boy had lighter eyes, and a strange scar on his forehead, shaped like a lightning bolt. The boy rubbed his head where Andrea had accidentally hit him, “I’m Harry, actually. Harry Potter, who are you?”

“I’m Andrea De Luca. It was nice meeting you . . . or bumping into you . . . or—whatever. Sorry. I thought you were someone else for a moment.” Harry Potter raised his hand in farewell, and began to walk over to the ice cream shop she had seen earlier where an enormous man was waiting for him. Harry waved once more to Andrea, who smiled merrily back at him before finally walking into Ollivander’s.

At first glance, it appeared empty, Andrea called out with a feeble “Hello?” 

“Dear me, another one,” said a soft voice from the back of the shop. Andrea wasn’t sure she was meant to hear that, but her enhanced hearing kind of made it hard not to eavesdrop. Soon after, a pale man with white hair and silver eyes came into the main room.

“Well, well. Miss Andrea. I’ve been expecting you for the last hundred years. How is your mother?”

Andrea blinked at him in astonishment, “She was fine last time I saw her.”

“Yes, Circe. Cedar with Pegasus feather, fourteen inches. Very rare wand, not many left with a Pegasus feather core. And your father,” Andrea gasped, “he had a nine inch Pelian pine with . . . dragon heartstring, I believe it was.

“You take after your mother, I see, but with your father’s eyes. Maybe you’ll fancy a shorter wand like him. But really, the wand chooses the wizard.”

Mr. Ollivander walked closer, carrying one of the many thin boxes.

“Try this one. Pine with dragon heartstring, Seventeen inches. Swishy, good for charms. Well, go on, give it a wave.” He handed her a light wood wand. She flicked her wrist; a large crack appeared in the wall opposite. Andrea’s eyes widened as she looked over to see Mr. Ollivander’s reaction. He did nothing except purse his lips and reach for another box.

“Hmm, Oak and phoenix plume feather, fourteen inches. Brittle, very good for jinxes.” She waved that one, Ollivander’s desk in the middle of the room burst into flames. Andrea set that wand down very gingerly.

 “Nearly there, yet,” Ollivander muttered, handing her another wand. “Maybe you fancy a darker wand. Poplar and drakon heartstring, thirteen inches.” She picked it up; it seemed cold in her hand, like holding an ice cube. She pointed it at a vase. It dissolved into shadows. It became so cold that Andrea had to drop it, she rubbed her hands together, trying to regain feeling in them.

“No. No. Definitely not.” Ollivander stated, seizing the wand. 

After Andrea had tried one particularly destructive one, (Cherry and Phoenix feather, eleven inches.) that had blown up the charred desk, Ollivander’s face lit up.

“Of course!” Ollivander exclaimed. “Why didn’t I think of that before?” He disappeared in one of the back rooms. She could hear him muttering, then a series of crashes, bangs, and curses. She was about to go and help him, but before she could, he walked out again. His hair was slightly askew and his clothes were rather dusty.

“Alright, try this one. Whitewood and Thestral hair, fifteen inches.” Ollivander held the wand out towards her; she reached out and grabbed it warily, afraid that this wand would also have dastardly consequences. It came as a pleasant surprise when, instead of making something explode or catch on fire, it emitted a warm tingling that spread pleasantly through her entire body, warming her hands at last.

She looked at Ollivander; he was watching her with a most curious expression.

“Very interesting,” he said with a bemused smile.

“Sorry, what’s interesting?”

His silver eyes rested on her own bright blue. “That is a peculiar wand, Miss Andrea. It has a pure, white wood as the base, and a black hair, from a creature associated with death, as the core. The last time I brought this wand out was when it was new, for Rowena Ravenclaw, no less.

“It is interesting that this particular wand should choose you. It has two sides, warring against each other yet in perfect harmony. You must be careful with this wand Miss De Luca. It is a powerful wand, and could be dangerous in the wrong hands.”

As soon as she paid for her wand, Andrea nearly ran out of the store towards Eeylops’ Owl Emporium. Gran and Gramps were waiting outside.

“So, have you decided on an animal yet?”

“I don’t think I want a pet yet,” she said after a moment’s pause. Animals were still a slightly touchy subject after she had seen her mother turn people into various animals. She would always be wondering if the animals she saw used to be people that her mother had turned into animals.

“Very well; why don’t we go over to that ice cream parlor we saw earlier? Florteasean’s, wasn't it. ”

 “Great idea, Hec,” Gramps boomed. He put his hands on either of their shoulders and led them toward the parlor.

 Over their ice creams—Gran got one that was chocolate fudge, Gramps had one that looked suspiciously like pistachio, and Andrea settled for one that sounded particularly interesting: Wild berry Lavender, flavored with blueberries, lavender, orange zest, and surprisingly black kerns—they talked about the wonders of Diagon Alley the entire way home.

Andrea stayed up late, poring over the books describing a version life she had never heard about before and never had the chance to experiance.

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I don't feel as if this part is very good. According to you guys, can I change anything to make it better?

Thank you all for reading this far.

-Skyy