From behind the counter, Mr. Ollivander's gaze followed the Longbotom boy and his grandmother as they left the shop. He had always wondered what kind of wand would choose the son of such famous aurours.
Ollivander was still marveling when Voldemort suddenly appeared inside his wand shop.
Never having seen he-who-must-not-be-named face to face before, Mr. Ollivander was sure his eyes were deceiving him. Lord Voldemort himself was looking at him with those red, slanted eyes smiling his evil lipless smile.
Mr. Ollivander had heard descriptions of The Dark Lord but none of them were accurate enough. Nothing prepared him for the terrible fear that gripped him, the weakness he felt as he fell to his knees, all a-quiver like a leaf in the wind. No wonder no one was ever able to live when HE decided to kill them. All he had to do was show himself and he would win. Anyone would lose any powers they had just by facing this most powerful and feared wizard; anyone would became paralyzed with fear.
"I'll do it, whatever you want me to do I'll do it" said Ollivander shaking from head to toe.
Voldemort smiled evilly. He enjoyed having that effect on people.
"You will come with me." Voldemort said insidiously. He purposely didn't send Death Eaters, he himself had come, because he wanted to make sure that Mr. Ollivander would not struggle.
As Ollivander followed Voldemort to wherever he was taking him, his brain numb, his whole being resigned, he couldn't help but wonder how the Longbottoms and Potters were able to face this terrifying monster three times. Not to mention Harry, who faced him at only fourteen years of age. Though he was in total panic, a small part in the back of his mind felt terrible guilt for not being able to stand up to You-Know-Who.
After a walk to the back of the shop and a touch of the portkey that Voldemort made, they finally reached a cold and eerie dungeon with nothing but a rickety table and a huge snake in it.
"You're the best wand maker there is, are you," said Voldemort.
"Y-y-yes" stuttered Ollivander.
"You claim to remember every wand you ever sold"
"I-I d-do."
"Do you remember the wand you sold me?" Voldemort was pacing back and forth in a menacing manner.
"Ye-yes"
"What is my wand made of? What's its core?"
"Phoenix feather," said Ollivander shaking a little less. He was, after all discussing his craft, and it was some consolation that even with his head completely frozen in terror he was able to remember.
"How did you get that phoenix feather?"
"The phoenix gave it,"
"Take another one from that phoenix and make me a new wand."
"I c-c-can't do that – you know-- n-n-no one can force a phoenix to give feathers!" He was starting to tremble again.
"How many more feathers did this phoenix give?" asked Voldemort in a threatening voice.
"One other, J-j-just one other."
"Where is that feather?"
"I s-s-sold that wand - t-to Harry Potter."
There was a sudden loud thunder as Voldemort stopped pacing and banged his fist on the table in anger.
Ollivander fell to his knees again and trembled so hard he was almost sobbing.
"Do you know where to find that particular phoenix? Can you try to get any more feathers from it?"
"It- it was Dumbledore's phoenix, his p-p-pet" said Ollivander faintly
"WHAT?" Voldemort was definitely having a conniption fit, "You sold me a wand made with a core from my enemy's pet?" thundered Voldemort advancing at Ollivander.
"I - I - how was I to know you would ever be enemies?" said Ollivander trying to back away, butrealizing that he had turned to stone from fright.
"I want you to make me a new wand. And I want the core to be a fang from my pet snake." Nagini came slithering toward Ollivander.
"B-b-but I n-n-n-n-n-never made a wand with a s-s-s-s-s-s-snake f-f-f-f-f-fang I don't think it c-can work"
"You are the best wand-maker, you find a way to make it work" said Voldemort and walked away from the dungeon, leaving Ollivander in cold sweat.