A/N Hello fanfic friends! Just a short little oneshot for my first post! This is not my first ever fanfic, just the first one I wanted to post. I made Ollivander a little creepy in this one, it's how I really always envisioned him being. Enjoy!
Tom Marvolo Riddle stepped into the dusty shop. He looked around for a moment, taking in the tall shelves stuffed with thousands upon thousands of long, thin boxes. A scratchy voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Ah, yes. I've been expecting you, Mr. Riddle." Tom whipped around, his long, dark hair falling into his eyes rather attractively.
"Yes, ever since you were born, I knew that you would someday enter my shop. You are even very possibly" -he paused dramatically for effect- "the one."
"Well, you got it right. You earn a prize! Can we cut the chitchat please and choose my wand?" snapped Tom. Mr. Ollivander jumped back in shock.
"But, my dear Tom, you do not understand! You see, dear boy, the wand chooses the wizard, not the other way around!" he breathed.
"Then let's get to it." Tom interrupted rudely. "I haven't got all day."
"Very well then, my boy." Ollivander hurried off, looking distastefully over his shoulder at the lanky figure behind him. Of course, he had been joking when he said this boy might be the one. That was something he said to every customer as an impressive way to start the shopping experience, followed by bringing out the wand he was reserving for the one. All's fair in love and war- and business now that I think about it, thought Ollivander as he strided towards the front of the shop. The one's wand sat on a stiff purple cushion. This wand, he knew, would only be happy in the hands of a very powerful wizard indeed. He retrieved the oppressive-looking wand and bustled back to where Riddle was sitting.
"Took you long enough!" Riddle chuckled.
"Never mind that, boy, here's your wand." Ollivander snapped. He knew he shouldn't be so rude towards customers- he would go out of business!- but Tom Marvolo Riddle had the uncanny ability to make people needlessly snappish and angry.
Ollivander revealed the wand he was holding behind his back. "This, my dear Tom, is a very special wand. Made of yew. Thirteen and one half inches. Rather whippy, in fact. It contains a single feather of a phoenix- but what is so special about this one is that the phoenix gave two feathers. Two feathers, Mr. Riddle, do you know how incredibly rare that is. It is unheard of! Why, no wizard in the history of our world has had a wand with the feather of a phoenix that gave another! This wand is very powerful, Mr. Riddle. I have been reserving it for the one. Let's give it a try!"
This was a rehearsed speech, given to every customer who entered his shop as far back as he could remember. Ollivander had lost any hope that he would ever sell the wand. But it was amusing to see the various reactions of eleven-year-olds when the wand failed for them. However, as he handed the wand to Riddle, he felt something he had never felt before- as if the wand sensed its true master nearby.
Tom took the wand. Its carved handle fit perfectly in his hand, almost as if it was custom-made for him. Suddenly, a feeling of great power ran through his veins. The sky went dark momentarily, then Riddle swished the wand towards Ollivander, upon which Ollivander flew up into the air, a silent scream of agony etching his face. Tom flicked the wand downwards, and Ollivander collapsed in a heap on the floor.
"Yes. This will do quite nicely." Riddle smirked. He threw some Galleons on the floor next to the waking Ollivander, and swept out of the shop.