March 1070
The shop itself was small and quaint. Just past the door there was a small wooden table, beside which sat a middle-aged man with neck-length brown hair, dressed in plain green clothes. He sat near the front window and read by the light that filtered in, and he glanced up when we walked in.
"Ah, hello," he said, closing his book and putting it on the table.
The rest of his shop consisted of one main aisle that stretched all the way to a door a good few dozen feet down, and on the sides of this aisle stood stacks upon stacks upon stacks of shelves, filled with boxes and rocking horses and spoons and ladles and, occasionally, wands. There was enough assorted stuff here that you could bury me six feet under with it.
"Mister Ollivander, I assume?" I asked. "Unless you'd like me to call you something different."
"Geraint, please. And you?" he asked.
"Harry," I said.
Geraint raised a bushy eyebrow. "Quick to give it out."
"I have a few more, don't worry," I said. I pointed to Eva and then Cuthbert. "This is my apprentice Eva, and that's her brother Cuthbert. He's shaping up to be her porter."
Cuthbert's sigh filled the small foyer-area.
"Are you here to purchase some of my work?" Geraint asked. "I see you already have a staff."
"More for her than for me, though I might pick something up. Do you only sell premade wands or do you also sell the, call them raw materials?" I asked.
"The wood, certainly. Various specialty cores, not particularly. It's difficult to preserve them," he replied. "A crafter of your own?"
"I prefer to make my own foci where it's possible. Self-sufficiency, you know."
"A great virtue," he agreed. He looked down at Eva. "Would this be your first focus?"
Eva nodded.
"I see," he said, getting up from his seat with a groan. He patted down his pants, then paused and glanced up at me for a moment before looking back to Eva. "And are you looking for a general wand, or a primary focus?"
Eva looked up at me, and I shrugged. "Your focus, your choice. Unless you need me to explain something."
She shook her head. "No, I remember what you said. I was just…" She trailed off for a moment.
"You don't have to try and imitate me in everything. In fact, you really shouldn't," I said. I looked over at Geraint. "That said, I am going to be having her make her wand, if that impacts anything."
"Simply that it may not be as effective as one I or one of my ancestors have already made," he said. "And that I would recommend a baser starting material in case of any initial mistakes."
"Baser?" Eva asked.
"Any wood can be used to make a wand, or a staff," Geraint explained. "But some are inherently better than others. Wood taken from a common oak tree is inferior to that taken by one that was struck by lightning, for example, which is itself inferior from one taken from a sacred grove, and so on. And as different types of wood apply themselves better to different types of magic, there is the question of scarcity. Olive trees do not grow in this climate, after all, so their wood is seen more rarely. May I have your hand for a moment, please?"
Eva held out her right hand, and Geraint carefully gripped it and slowly turned it around, like he was getting a feel for the dimensions. "Hmm… great strength, vibrant feel for… transformation and transfiguration, a degree of precision," he muttered.
"You can tell that from a touch?" I asked, surprised.
"Family secret," he said with a small smile. "A very vital one in our line of work. Thank you, dear." He let go of Eva's hand and ambled into the aisle, humming under his breath.
"What was that you said about cores?" I asked.
"Hmm? Oh, yes. They are, hmm, not something to risk on a first attempt. Or even the thirtieth. Not unless you have an ample supply of them," Geraint said. "They are like designs upon a shield, but even that is a poor comparison. They accentuate a focus' nature, amplify it, and they must be innately magical, no hair off a common cat or anything like that. For example, if you were making a wand to channel force, you might add a hair or strand of muscle from a troll, if you could acquire such a thing. They're certainly not necessary and they're difficult to properly work with, but that is why you come to masters such as I."
"I see," I said.
Personally, I didn't believe everything he said, particularly about the different types of wood. Though that's probably because I hadn't been taught in a druidic tradition; if I had, I probably would have very strong opinions about the type of wood. Which is why I didn't say anything; it was my personal opinion and belief, and I didn't need to press that on Eva and squander whatever benefit she might get from that association.
"What about metal wands?" I asked, thinking of Malfoy's.
"Oh, I don't work with those. They certainly work well enough, but I'm a woodworker, not a blacksmith," Geraint replied, still rummaging around, piling various bits of wood into the crook of his arm.
"And why don't you have any cores for sale?"
"As I said, they're difficult to preserve. They lose potency the longer they've been separated from the body and need to be added to a wand rather quickly if they are to have any effect. I have a number of cored wands in my reserve, built up over the centuries, but very few cores themselves and I would certainly not sell those for anything other than a full commission or to a master." He grabbed one more type of wood, then walked back over to the table we were standing by and set them down.
He put down five lengths of wood, one nearly black, two dark brown, and two light brown.
Geraint tapped one of the dark brown pieces and said, "Poplar. Not what I would suggest as an ultimate wand for you, but good for a start. Consistent, reliable, and stable without leaning to any particular kind of magic." He tapped the other dark brown. "English Oak. Common here, but loyal, and demanding of a firm moral fiber. No particular leanings, as with poplar, but also allows for greater variances in strength." Light brown. "Chestnut. A very variable wood, adapts itself to the wielder, and very receptive to adding in wand cores. Doesn't inherently favor any branch of magic, however." The other light brown. "Alder. A study in contrasts. Unyielding, but it partners well with more outgoing and friendly sorts. Good for defensive charms and magic." And finally the black. "Ebony. Very well suited to Transfiguration and Evocation, though it is very difficult to acquire ebony here, so I would recommend this more as an ultimate wand if you don't have the funds or confidence to work ebony right now."
"And I just pick one?" Eva asked.
"Yes. Take your time, get a feel for them. Don't consider logic to start, just let your instincts guide you initially. Here, sit down." He gestured to his empty chair, and moved aside for Eva. After a quick glance at me, she sat down and started running her hand over the various types of wood.
"And for the young man?" Geraint asked, turning to face Cuthbert.
"I don't need a wand," he said, somewhat politely. "I can't do magic."
"Well that's certainly not true. You may not have a talent for it but everyone can develop some capacity for it," Geraint said. "You have the look and build of a fighter. Is that so?"
Cuthbert furrowed his brow and nodded slowly.
"Then you might find use in a defensive charm. Even if you don't wish to learn how to form a shield, and I imagine your sister's master can certainly describe the benefits of doing so, you might find the added protection useful."
"I… thank you, but no," Cuthbert said.
"Very well, that's your decision." Geraint looked up at me. Now that he was standing right in front of me, I could better peg his height at around five-eleven. "And you said you might be interested in something?"
"A secondary focus for Transfiguration specifically," I said.
"Hmm. Hand, please?"
I went to take off my right glove, then stopped myself. I wasn't sure how Geraint was doing his sensing trick, but I doubted it would work too well with a hand that was still somewhat cursed. So instead I pulled off my left glove and held out my left hand.
Geraint raised an eyebrow at the burn scars but didn't comment on them. He simply took my hand for a fraction of a second before pulling back and smiling. "Definitely the ebony," he said. "Though, if I may have a look at your staff for a second opinion?"
"What would that involve?" I asked.
"Just a physical inspection, nothing more," he said.
I shrugged and passed him my staff. He took it gently, then sucked in his breath. "Oh my," he said. "Not common wood, certainly. Birch? No, I don't think so. Not from a poplar or aspen tree either. It almost feels like fir, but I've never heard of white fir before. Where did you get this?"
"From the domain of a faerie," I replied vaguely. "I think, anyway. Must've been outside the Nevernever for it to stick around."
"Not necessarily, but rather likely," Geraint said idly. "Hmm. Yes, fir seems most likely, and a somewhat fae nature could explain the color. Still odd, but it does confirm my initial opinion."
"Why? What does fir correspond to?" I asked.
"It's ascribed to be the 'survivor's wood' in my family's journals. Now, there is an inherent difficulty in truly verifying this claim, but it seems that those to whom fir is suited have a strange knack for consistently weathering mortal peril."
I gave Geraint a look, then took back my staff. "Yeah, I can believe that. Not going to warn me off working with ebony?"
"Your staff is well made, and, well, to put it simply, I would find it less distressing if you were to overestimate yourself and make a mistake than if the young miss were to do the same."
"I'm supposed to be older and wiser, so if I screw up it's all my fault?" I asked.
"Essentially," Geraint said.
"Excuse me?" Eva asked, prompting us all to look at her. "I'd like the chestnut, for now at least."
"Very well," Geraint said. "How many blocks would you like? I cut them such that each is really only good for one."
"I… don't need multiple wands?" Eva said hesitantly.
"I think he's asking how many backups you want if you're not happy with your first attempt. And two, I'd say. I'll get her started carving regular wood, then the first block of chestnut, and the last will be the definitive article."
"As you wish," Geraint said. "And the ebony?"
"Just the one."
He nodded, picked up the other three blocks of wood, and went back into his aisle, putting them back in their original places before withdrawing a second block of chestnut. "Are you certain I can't interest you in a cored wand?"
"No, not really," I said. "Eva might come back later though." I frowned thoughtfully. "How do you even get a core in there, anyway?"
"It varies depending on size and shape," Geraint said as he came back. "Typically though, I like to carve the top and bottom halves of a wand separately with space for a small hollow in between, insert the core, and then seal them together with a bit of magic. We've found that works the best. Some cores you could wind around the outside of your wand, but then the core is subject to greater degradation and erosion. Can I interest you in anything else, some of my carvings perhaps? Purely mundane I assure you, though of a high quality."
"I guess wands don't sell that often?" I asked.
"Wands are in reliable demand, but not in constant demand. And not many of the goods sold here in the Alley sell all that frequently. You'll find that every one of our shops, save for the tavern, faces inwards and outwards. We sell to both communities."
"Makes sense," I said. I looked over at Cuthbert and Eva. "I'm not really interested in decorations, but take a look around, maybe you'll find something you're interested in."
As Eva started to drag Cuthbert into the aisle, I leaned back against the wall, put my left glove back on, and looked over at Geraint. "So, ignoring the difficulty of acquisition and whatnot, what kind of cores would you recommend for Transfiguration foci?"
"Well, there are the cores that generally empower a wand, but those are difficult to come across, and generally must come from a powerful, inhuman practitioner. Hair from a potent sidhe or one of the Woodfolk, some such things. For Transfiguration in particular, I would recommend the hair of a scion that hasn't made their Choice, as that conveys a certain element of mutability and transition. Changelings especially are ideal, as their fae heritage lends itself well to transformation."
"Not proper faeries though?" I asked.
Geraint shook his head. "No. A faerie is far more rigid in nature, no longer in a state of flux and transition. As I mentioned, some could make a wand better, but when it comes to accentuating Transfiguration, they are far inferior to changelings. Perhaps if one of the High Sidhe or a Queen gave a strand, but…" He shook his head again. "You may as well wish a dragon shed its scales for you to fashion armor out of. They're both as equally unlikely to happen."
"Yeah," I said. Granted, one was marginally, marginally more likely in my case, but not by much. "How much magic do you use when making your wands?"
"As little as possible, ideally. Though that is partially because I make wands for sale to other practitioners, who must adapt the wands to themselves. If you are making a focus for yourself, there is more leeway. I would still recommend carving them out by hand, it builds a greater appreciation and connection to them, but Transfiguring certain details or into the ideal shape once you have the rough form is no problem. And, of course, if you have a core, to seal the wand."
I nodded. "What are the thaumaturgic risks involved? I assume it's rare to find a being willing to surrender their hair or other bits of their body to a practitioner."
"Before their use as a core, the usual risks. But after a core has been bound to a wand, the connection practically disappears. A cored wand may be marginally more effective in affecting the one the core was drawn from, but you couldn't stop their heart or track the being down. The stronger tie is to the practitioner that wields the wand, especially if they have used it for some time and channeled much magic through it."
So no to imbuing this new focus with soulfire, got it. Not that I was really planning to, but it was nice to get confirmation of it being a bad idea.