A/N- The first installment of my new miniseries! Also, THANK YOU A ZILLION TIMES to my fabulous beta lost in a musical daydream, because otherwise this would have made no sense at all.
Disclaimer- I don't own HP. I do, however, own a Hufflepuff scarf I made. (happy dance with scarf on)
The Defining Moment- Harry Potter
I anxiously gripped the cool mahogany doorknob, as if it could tether me firm foundations of fact instead of leading me towards the impossibilities of magic. The well-worn sign marking the entrance to Ollivander's hovered over my head as I prepared to leave everything I'd ever known.
Just yesterday, my vision of reality was shattered as Hagrid told me I was a wizard. I could still barely believe it, but after seeing what he could do with his pink umbrella, not to mention the magic of random passersby, I had no choice but to blindly trust the strange giant who rescued me from my tortured life.
I had come a long way since my original shock, but I was still a little nervous to complete what seemed to be the final step of "wizard initiation." What if I wasn't good enough? What if the wand rejected me? What if I wasn't a wizard after all, and had to return to my ordinary life?
With that lingering thought I quickly made up my mind as I quickly stepped through the open doorway. No matter what happens, I wouldn't be going back.
My eyes widenedas I took in the shop. It was a large enough room, I guess, but you could hardly see the walls because they were filled with dusty bookcases covered in what looked like dusty shoeboxes. There must have been thousands, but before I could count them, a short, elderly man tapped me on the shoulder.
He started talking, addressing me as Mister Potter, and I couldn't help but wonder how he could possibly know my name. Was I really that famous?
Mr. Ollivander finished his speech, interrupting my musing as he handed me a dusty shoebox. I looked at him questioningly before opening it, and gasped as I saw a slim, narrow wooden rod, the perfect size to fit my hand. I eagerly grasped it and waved it over my head, ducking as shards of glass from a small mirror shot towards me. In my eagerness, I forgot the warning Hagrid had given me as he headed off to another shop. A wand can do as much good as bad; I needed to learn how to tell the difference.
Mr. Ollivander shook his head slowly, grabbing another slim box, this one emerald green. I opened it slowly, picked up the wand, and pointed it at the bookshelf. Cases immediately started flying off the shelves as I hurriedly put the wand away and handed it back.
I tried so many wands, I eventually lost count. He seemed to be getting more and more satisfied, but all I could think about was the prospect of failure. As I continued to wreak magic havoc in the small shop, I grew more and more upset. As he handed me one last case, midnight blue, I was about ready to give up.
I despondently grasped the slim wooden rod in my hand and gave it a halfhearted flick. Instantly, warmth radiated from the wand up my arm, filling my whole body. I could hear a roaring in my ears as I looked down in wonder. This was all me, doing this. This was no simple illusion, no basic trick. This was pure, unfiltered magic, and I was in the center of it all. I was a true wizard.
