The Wandmaker's Granddaughter

The Wandmaker's Granddaughter Gets a Wand

Midnight struck through the alley. Almost every storefront now sat dark save for the pubs which sang drunken tunes. In the back most corner of the old wand shop, a dim flicker could also be made out if one knew where to look.

Sitting at his old tarnished workbench, Ollivander sat carefully working unicorn hair into an ebony piece of wand wood. Amelia stared intently as the core sparked and protested the confinement. As the final bell chimed midnight, the hair gave in and slid into its new home. The new wand sparked to life on the table and glowed warmly in the dim candle light.

"Midnight is always the best time to work with a stubborn core," Ollivander said taking out a small jar of varnish and handing it to Amelia. "Finish this for me."

Amelia picked up the brush and took over her grandfather's seat. Several years had passed since Ollivander's last apprentice had left and ever since Amelia had been filling much of those duties herself. Mostly running errands or minding the shop, but every once and a while she would be trusted with an important task such as this. Paying mind to every groove in the wood, she took pride in the detail she was able to give each wand entrusted to her.

So, even though Amelia was all of eleven years old, she finished the wand with the steady hands of a seasoned professional.

Even the loud pop of her uncle apperating into the next room only gave her a seconds hesitation before continuing her task. Upon the following crashes that ensued Amelia set down the brush and watched her grandfather move to open the next room over.

The smell of alcohol and smoke filled the room as Gendin Ollivander lay in a dazed, drunken state on the floor holding what appeared to be the arm of a garden statue.

"Go put a kettle on Amelia," Ollivander said before slamming the door and locking it shut.

Now, it should be noted, that in the wizarding world, when an adult asks a child to do a task easily done with magic, it's a sure sign something serious and important is happening in the next room over. Even with this knowledge there was no way of eavesdropping once the door was shut. Not even the Weaslys' Wizard Wheezes extendable ear could get through the ant-listening spells the ministry commissioned for this very reason. Of course there was a spell that could get around it but it was nothing a young witch like Amelia could find, let alone use.

That's why, when the door shut, Amelia begrudgingly put away the varnish and went upstairs to put a kettle on.

In the kitchen, Amelia sat listening to the water boil, watching the flame flick back and forth under the kettle. She slowly started nodding off, laying her head against the cool wooden table. A loud bang from the first floor brought Amelia back to her senses as shouting filled the shop downstairs.

"You know it's your fault just as much as mine," Gendin slurred together loudly in his drunken state.

"Lower your voice," Ollivander whispered. Amelia moved closer to the stairs as quietly as possible.

"Why are you blaming me?" Gendin said paying little mind to Ollivander's request.

"I'm not . . ." Ollivander started.

"Then how could you kick your own son out of the business that you've promised since I was a boy?" Gendin asked a hurt sadness entering his sloppy, drunken voice.

"You don't have the talent or drive to run my business. Amelia is ten and can do things you couldn't at thirty. As soon as it got tough you left and came twice a year falling over drunk. Don't act like a victim over your own choices." Ollivander said. Without a seconds pause there was a pop and the only sound that was left was the kettle screaming from across the kitchen. Amelia ran over to the kettle but before she could get there the flame had already extinguished and the water was pouring into the awaiting teacups. Ollivander walked up the steps as the last drops fell out of the kettle and Amelia brought the cups to the table. They both sat silently and watched their tea steep. The scent of chamomile mixed with the usual woody smell of the flat to lull the remaining tension still hanging in the air.

"What did Uncle Gendin want?" Amelia asked mixing a spoon of sugar into her tea.

"It's your birthday, he always come to wish you a happy birthday," Ollivander said staring into his cup without touching it.

"Did he bring a present this year?"

"He didn't set fire to anything."

Ever since Gendin had left seven years earlier similar encounters had become an annual occurrence. When she was four, of course, Amelia didn't know what was happening. However, as she reached seven or so years it had become obvious something was amiss. Especially the second time their argument ended in the spontaneous combustion of a piece of furniture.

"Speaking of presents," Ollivander said and a box appeared on the table. "Happy birthday."

Amelia opened the box and pulled out a wand. A beautiful hand carved wand that fit perfectly into Amelia's left hand. It sparked to life immediately and shone brilliantly in the dim kitchen.

"Holly wood, eleven and three-quarters inches, dragon heartstring, durable but delicate," Amelia said examining the carvings.

"With plenty of room to grow. When I was making it I could feel it's heartbeat was the same as yours," Ollivander said. Amelia nodded. The black and gold finish glinted in the candlelight as the scent of fresh varnish and paint still faintly encased the wand.

"It's not every day your little girl turns eleven," Ollivander said rising without having touched his tea. "Good night."

Ollivander walked out of the room and Amelia was left alone. In the silent, dimming candlelight she picked up the cups, which seemed to clatter much louder in the silence. She washed them meticulously and went to bed. The candle extinguished behind her and everything dissolved into the night.