"The wand chooses the wizard; that much has always been clear to those of us who have studied wand lore." A wand chooses a wizard to learn from and teach, gaining mutual experience and respect along the journey.
A wand cannot think, precisely; it has no mind, but rather a peculiar consciousness. Any wizard or witch will be able to tell you when their wand is feeling reluctant, or even sulky. They will be able to tell you when their wand is pleased or satisfied or sometimes excited.
Every wand is different. Two cherry wands with tail hairs from the same unicorn, carved the same way by the same wandmaker, will behave differently.
Some wands are fiercely loyal, and will not shift allegiances even after the most decisive defeats. Some wands are vastly powerful, but ridiculously fickle. Some wands demand respect from their owners before they will submit; still others will wait to see their owner's worth before revealing their true power.
A wizard does not need a wand, and a wand is perfectly satisfied lying in Slumber, but neither will reach their full potential without one another.
There are times, dark times, when a wandmaker completes a wand that...sickens him. The peculiar consciousness is twisted, the wand may even turn in his hand upon completion and Awakening. But once a wand has Awaken, no wandmaker — ever — will destroy a wand. Some may wonder why, but it is the deepest, most dearly held tenet that the wand chooses the wizard — destroying any wand that has Awakened is deliberately depriving a witch or wizard of their focus for their magic, and depriving the wand of reaching a potential that is unknowable.
Ollivander, Gregorovich, Hastings, Issaquah, Norimaki, Bhati, Francesco, Alexandrei, Huang — anyone studied in wandlore recognizes the names of the great wandmakers of this time. It has been my pleasure as well as my duty to chronicle the journeys their creations take, as well as I can translate that consciousness and the fleeting memories of a wand into words and feelings that can be spelled by a quill.
Your eyebrows furrow. I do not think you understand the kind of magic of which I speak. This does not surprise me; it is an old magic, and difficult, one that requires a subtle power few are capable of harnessing. It was taught to me by Issaquah himself, many years back. You do not know the name, I see, so simply trust me when I tell you he is the most knowledgeable shaman remaining in the Americas, and his understanding of wandlore is so profound that he can seek, with his mind, any wand in the world and know its journey.
I am not that talented; I was his student for less than ten years. But should you tell me a person, or the composition of a particular wand...I can usually find it. I can usually glean its history.
Tell me, reader. Tell me which wands you wish to know about, and I will try. This volume of wandlore chronicles I write shall be guided by you.
A demonstration, then, before you tell me? Very well. This was a request from a dear friend of mine for her son's wand, some time ago.