I do not own these characters.
I am ever thankful for my betas :)
In the late afternoon the sun stretched over a dense forest nestled between the hills of northern Maine. Trees crawled out almost endlessly across the landscape in every direction as two figures emerged around a hill. Porpentina Goldstein and Elias Lindström, a Swedish immigrant and wandmaker, made their way up a curve in the landscape and came to a stop at a large and rather flat boulder. Elias plopped a ragged carpet bag on top of the stone and began taking out various tools arranging them into neat lines. Tina retrieved a worn looking leather bound text and was skimming through it with her wand when the book glowed a pale yellow and fell open.
"Ah, here we go. The American Chestnut," she began to read from a newer page, "a straight-grained hardwood characterized as unyielding and resistant to decay. Most compatible with a dragon heartstrings core to create highly effectual magical channeling."
"Good, good. Now can you tell me why I have decided upon this specific tree out of all the others on this hillside?"
"It has good," she ran her eyes over the text again. Failing to come up with an answer she guessed "branches?"
Elias let out a soft chuckle. "A good guess, my dear, but not all knowledge can be found within a book. You must open your eyes to more than the letters on a page. Trail your gaze a quarter from the top of this tree. What do you see?" He asked while pointing towards the answer.
"Bowtruckles!" Tina exclaimed, nostalgic for a certain kind and undeniably quirky Englishman she had met in the previous year.
"Precisely." The older man smiled with adoration for his young apprentice. "An English wandmaker by the name Ollivander is always touting that the best wand woods play host to bowtruckles."
Elias gathered a few tools, clipped them to his belt, and threw a satchel over his shoulder. He pointed his wand in the air and uttered "retascendio" and he slowly began to rise up off the ground. The wandmaker paused by the nest of bowtruckles and offered them a treat of woodlice and fairy eggs to distract them from his task. He rose a few more feet then, with a wave of his wand, the bronze instruments from his belt sprung to life. They happily buzzed and whirred around a few branches to whittle them down to wand length and deposited them in Elias' satchel. With a flick of his wand, the tools clipped back onto the wandmaker's belt. He started to descend, stopping again to offer thanks in the form of woodlice to the tree guardians.
"Never take more than a tree can properly reproduce. You must work with the tree to ensure the wand works with it's wielder. Magic thrives through harmony, my dear." Elias packed up his tools while Tina noted the swiftly changing sky. "We need to set up camp if we're going to make it to that other valley tomorrow" she said. "I saw a cave a few bends back that we could nestle in for the night."
Elias nodded and gave a courteous bow towards the bowtruckles and turned to head for the cave.
'Newt would admire him' Tina thought as she trailed behind her mentor and they made their way to that night's lodgings.
oOoOoOoOo
The cave was tucked away in a notch between two hills almost disappearing into the rock face. Elias unloaded their gear while Tina put up wards and transfigured a fallen log and a pile of rocks into an over plump sofa and throw pillows. Elias tossed over some candles which Tina floated up above them to light the small space. As Tina set up their cots, Elias ignited a muggle camping stove and made some soup for their dinner.
The two settled into the sofa discussing wandlore, chatting about quidditch, and relishing in the relaxation the shelter had awarded them. Hours had passed since sundown and the day's trek began to weigh heavy down on them. Tina dimmed the candles with a sleepy wave of her wand as the wandmaker and his apprentice fell swiftly to sleep.