I awake to a slight whistling noise sounding close to my ear. Light blinds me from the bay window half-covered by sheer curtains. I attempt to turn my face away from the assault to my eyes, but am blocked. The dragon had curled itself in the crook of my neck under my hair at some point over night. My soft laugh rouses him. He opens his eyes, snakes across my shoulder, and nuzzles my cheek like a needy puppy.
"Alright, Fido. Let's get this show on the road."
An hour later, I find myself in the nursery, introducing myself to two new individuals. The first is another intern, a guy around my own age (the age on my employment record). He introduces himself as Andrew, speaking with a good-natured smile. After he finishes his one-liner, he runs a hand through his sandy-brown hair. The other person is a woman with matching hair. She appears to be in her late twenties.
"I'm Evelynne. This one's my brother." She tilts her head toward Andrew, then leans to me, blocking her face from her brother with her hand to whisper loudly, "If he bothers you, just let me know!"
"Oi!" Andrew provides a sorry offended expression. Unable to hold it for long, he crumbles into a cheery demeanor again.
"Nice to meet you both!" My scaled charge decides to reveal himself at that moment by sneaking a peak through my hair, his favorite hide-away. He receives a surprised outburst from the two siblings. Evelynne recovers first and laughs heartily.
"I see you've already acquainted yourself with our fire-breathing tykes."
"I was here last night, and this one decided he liked my hair far more than the nests. He spit at Charlie when he tried to put him back. He hasn't left me since." This time I laugh, a little embarrassed.
"Charlie Weasely?" Andrew pipes in.
"Yeah. I learned about this place through him."
"He's a dedicated wizard. Never met another who cares so much about anything." Andrew seems to idolize Charlie. "He's definitely a wizard I'd want in my corner." After a pause, he continues, choosing to jab his sister, "Instead, I got stuck with this witch as my mentor."
Evelynne rewards him with a wallop to his head, "You best remember that, too!" Her eyes twinkle with mischief, making me laugh.
"Alright, rookies!" Evelynne announces with a loud voice. "First day of dragon daycare!"
I collapse on my porch, not bothering to find a chair. Evelynne, while amiable, ran Andrew and I ragged. Turns out there are more nests than the one I saw with Charlie. Different dragons require different schedules, food, techniques, etc. I definitely learned a lot. The one constant has been the dragon with separation-anxiety currently curled on my chest. He remained attached to me through nest cleanings, feedings, special physical therapies (some of the hatchlings have growth or other physical deficiencies), and the trivia that Evelynne emitted non-stop. Facts and knowledge crucial to my job.
Luckily, I've yet to need magic for anything. A few tasks could have been completed with a wand, as Evelynne quickly informed me. However, I covered myself my insisting I preferred a hands-on approach with the babies. She seemed to accept my excuse easily enough.
I sigh and stretch out, looking very much like a tired, dusty starfish. With my hair splayed on the ground as I lay, the breeze gently caressing my skin and rustling the plants on my porch, and the dragon warming my chest, I promptly begin dozing.
I wake up to laughter. Charlie stands at the stairs of my porch.
"Well isn't this a sight!" His tone suggests a joke or two are on their way.
"Oh, shut it," I warn in good-humor.
"I guess that means you're too tired to go on a trip." I sit up rapidly, earning a disgruntled snort from my tiny friend.
"A trip?" Where could it be to? So soon? His voice is too cheerful for it to be bad news, so where was he going?
"Well, we've got a few hours before sundown, so I was thinking we could get you the supplies you need. You know, clothes, personal items, a wand…" He trails off, keeping his tone casual. I nearly jump out of my skin, my brain clinging to the one word that mattered to me. A wand… my wand.
"I'll get my own wand?" I ask with a small voice, too fearful that it was a cruel joke.
"Yes, Emma. You ready?" He raises his eyebrows, grin as long as the walk to the apparition point. I nod, unable to bring words to fruition.
"You'll need to leave the dragon here. It can't leave the reserve."
As if in protest, the dragon climbs to my shoulder.
"Sorry, monkey. I'll be back though, I promise," I scratch the dragon's head. "It's important, okay?" I could swear, the dragon understands me completely. We stop by the nursery to drop a reluctant baby dragon off to be cared for in my absence. Through my excitement, I still feel a hole open up inside me when I leave the dragon behind. It has wormed its way into my heart with no effort at all.
With a face dripping with amusement, Charlie asks, "Did you call a dragon monkey?"
"And? Regardless of what he is, it suits him. Climbing all over me and all."
"I suppose." He laughs. "Thought of a name yet?"
"Name?" I hadn't thought I was allowed to give it a name. It's not like he is my pet.
"You don't think we label our dragons like prisoners, do you? Ha! I can only imagine. 'Charlie, we need your help with number KD34-82!'" He enjoys his own joke for a minute before continuing. "His mother's name is Hazel. We name them."
"Hmm. Well, I'll think of one."
Charlie picks me up off the ground after apparating us to a bustling square.
"This is where we'll pick up your supplies. It's kinda like a Romanian Diagon Alley."
"Sounds good." I take in my surroundings, appreciating the almost rustic theme of the shopping square.
"Let's get your clothes first." Charlie leads me through several apparel shops. Each purchase is put into a bag that Charlie charmed, similar to Hermione's purse, so that neither of us are bogged down with bags. After my wardrobe is sufficiently complete, we make our way to the local wandcrafter. My stomach is in knots.
The wooden door opens inward, releasing the metallic peal of a hanging bells. The store is small, but I feel as though it is deceptively so. The shelves are worn and dusty, but I don't doubt their strength. A cluttered but neat desk is the only barrier between the entrance and the floor-to-ceiling shelves lining the back of the store.
"Just a minute!" comes a disgruntled voice from a hidden workspace in the back. Exactly a minute later, a tall woman rounds the shelves on the far left. Her lengthy black hair falls in a straight ponytail low on her head, a few strands hang about her face. Her delicate features contrast starkly with the worn uniform enveloping the rest of her frame.
"How may I help you?" Her face is a bright, giving the impression that her personality is identical to her current demeanor, bubbly and open.
"We're looking to get my friend here, Emma, a wand," Charlie answers. He gave me a cover story on our way to the square, a reason why I'm only just getting a wand.
"Did yours break?" She directs the question to me.
"Yes. My young cousins decided to steal away with my wand while I was asleep. Needless to say, it was returned in two pieces. All's well, though. It was a hand-me-down wand. I've not had the chance to purchase one of my own until now." I do my best to sound sincere, and am rewarded by a smile from Charlie.
"Well, let's get started then. I'm Sorcha, by the way." Sorcha asks me a few relevant questions to begin her search for my wand. She makes small talk as she riffles through the shelves.
"I apprenticed with Ollivander for a time when I was younger, you know. Great man, though a bit peculiar in his own right. I had to leave the position due to family reasons and finished my apprenticeship elsewhere, but many of Ollivander's lessons stuck. I use much of the same materials and techniques as he does, though he is arguably more skilled. Try this one."
Sorcha hands me a wand to try. I grasp the wand, but nothing happens.
"Okay, on to the next one. That one was a bit of a gander, but there are more to try!" She disappears within the shelves again, giving Charlie the opportunity to look at me with a smile and shrug.
"What made you want to become a wandmaker?" I am genuinely curious.
She appears again and gives me another to try. This one lets out a ghastly spark and literally bucks within my hand.
"Strike two." She takes the wand back and answers my question as she fishes for a third. "I've always appreciated the artistry and passion this job requires. It helps that I was completely enamoured with Ollivander when I received my wand… how old is that man? Anyway, the interest stuck with me through school, and I entered into an apprenticeship soon after. Here"
Again, this one doesn't seem to match with me. I lose hope. If I have magic, perhaps it's not even enough to wield. I guess I visibly deflate, because Sorcha reassures me.
"Sometimes these things go smoothly and quickly, other times they don't. Regardless, you do have a match. Maybe this will help. Tell me a bit about yourself. I can search for wands that I think may click with your personality." She plops onto a barstool behind the desk and folds her hands under her chin.
"Well, my childhood was nothing short of complicated, but I have always harbored a love of nature, specifically magical creatures." I give Charlie a reassuring glance. I'm not about to blow my cover, as silly as it sounds.
"It's true. Nature loves her too. She works on the reserve with me and the first time she met a dragon, the tiny terror took to her like glue." Charlie laughs.
"Hmm…" Sorcha says nothing, but I see wheels turning in her head. I continue.
"I've been told I'm extremely protective over others and I guess I make friends easily. I don't really know what to say."
"It's quite alright. Personality doesn't determine your wand match completely, it just helps give me an idea. I'm thinking either English oak or rowan…" Without another word she hops up and descends upon her beloved shelves. She returns with three boxes.
The first has a reaction similar to the last one I tried.
The second does nothing, like the first.
The third causes a peculiar feeling within me. Sorcha's face breaks into a grin.
"And so it's found you."
"Didn't take as long as I worried." I sigh a bit in relief and turn the wand in my hands. The warm chocolate wood is smooth, the handle denoted by a slightly lighter brown wood spiraled around the base.
"Rowan wood, phoenix feather core, eleven inches, and reasonably supple." Sorcha gives me an odd smile. "Good luck."
Deciding to ignore the slight warning that phrase seemed to hide, Charlie pays for the wand and we exit the shop with a wave.
"So when do I start training?" I eagerly ask, twirling my wand- my wand- in my hand.
"I'd be careful if I were you. Wands can be dangerous, you know!" He smiles. "We've only got enough time to get back to the reserve before it's late. We'll start tomorrow after work."
"Can't wait!"
I fall asleep that night, reunited with my monkey-like dragon, and dream of magic.
