1.

Dust [ Hawkfrost]

Hawkfrost pushes the shop door open to see a tall countertop and stacks upon stacks of boxes behind it. He could see the dust floating through the air and felt his lip curling.

This would not do. He was about to exit the shop when a distracted-looking old man with wispy white hair popped up behind the counter.

"Ah... Parkinson," he mumbles distractedly, and Hawkfrost looks up. "Hayden Parkinson."

"Don't call me that," snaps Hawkfrost. "My name is Hawkfrost."

"Yes, yes," he mutters to himself. "How about... try this one. Elm, Phoenix tail feather, 12 1/4", supple."

Hawkfrost picks up the wand and immediately drops it as a small shock courses up his arm.

He hisses quietly, glaring at the man. "Ah... not that one, then... maybe... chestnut, dragon heartstring... 13 3/4", brittle."

Hawkfrost picks it up and flicks his wrist, sending some pile of boxes in the back of the shop tumbling. He sets it back into its box, grimacing.

"No? Perhaps... Ah, this should do it. Aspen, dragon heartstring core... 13 1/4", whippy."

Hawkfrost wraps his hand around it, feeling a surge of power flow from the tips of his finger up to the top of his shoulder and run throughout his body. He waves it through the air, sending a shower of silver sparks out.

"Good, good... that'll be five galleons."

Hawkfrost pays and leaves, approaching his father, a man with his own dark hair and sharp eyes. Hawkfrost nods once and his father sets a brisk pace toward the Magical Menagerie.

That night, Hawkfrost names his owl after his little brother.