CHAPTER FIVE

The Wand Maker



**August 1, 1991**



They set off before noon, stepping through the fireplace in the Magical Menagerie. Anita was immediately greeted by a spectacle of creatures big and small. Ravens cawed through their cages, plump white rabbits hopped about, their pink noses twitching. Then there were the toads, all a variety of colors. Cats meowed at her and the owls were under their wings, just tucking themselves in for the day.

Once they were outside on the cobblestone street, they were soon in a throng of passerby. Anita watched as a young boy and his father came out from Ollivander's across the street.

"Father, my first wand!" he was saying rather excitedly.

"Dragon heartstring, just like your mum…I'm so proud-"

"Come along now, Anita." Mr. Martin ushered his wife and daughter forward until they were standing just outside of Mr. Mulpepper's Apothecary. Barrells of potion supplies, ranging from the usual of bat spleens and dragon liver to the more mundane dandelion root and fluxweed stood near her. On the door, a rather large sign was posted. "WARNING" it said. "DO NOT ASK ABOUT UNICORN BLOOD." Underneath was much smaller writing, but from where Anita stood she could not quite make it out.

"I can go ahead and get her potion ingredients, William. And there should be enough for her cauldron as well until you come back from Gringott's."

"Sounds perfect dear." William kissed his wife on the cheek and smiled down at Anita. "You two have a good time. I'll meet you over at Ollivander's."

"Of course."

Anita watched as her father disappeared into the crowd rather quickly.

"Mum," she said as the two of them headed inside the apothecary. "I have to meet Draco at Flourish & Blotts."

"I know, dear." Her mother sounded vaguely uninterested. "Stay here, will you? I'm going to go ask the shopkeeper about the ingredients on your list."

Before Anita could say anything further, her mother was already walking over to the counter where a hunched over old man was sitting, his rather large round glasses almost falling off his crooked beak of a nose. As the two of them began to talk, Anita moved around, perusing at the wares. There were vials of honeywater and moondew, neem oil and salamander blood. Braids of knotgrass, unicorn hair and bundles of howlet's wings and knarl quills.

All of it did make up for the unpleasant smell.

As she was examining little vials of doxy and fairy wings (the fairy wings were rather pricey) when her mother approached her, clutching a small wooden case.

"Let's go, Anita."

"What's that, Mum?" Anita asked, pointing to the object in her mother's hands.

"It's a potion kit, darling. Very essential. Now. Come. Let's get some ice cream while we wait for your father. I saved a bit buying this potion kit so there's just enough for a little treat. That sounds good doesn't it?"

Ice cream did sound nice, and Anita had heard of the flavors at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlor. So, with a nod of her head, Anita followed her mother out of the shop and the two of them made their way to the parlor.

Once they had gotten their ice cream (apple crumble for Anita and blueberry and clotted cream flavor for Mrs. Martin), they sat down at one of the umbrella covered tables.

The two of them sat in silence, eating their ice cream from the waffle cones and watching the people passing by.

Anita liked this simple moments with her mother. You can tell a lot, she'd told her one day, just by sitting and watching and listening. And although Anita was still learning such things, watching her mother observe others was a practice in itself. She liked to imagine that her mother couldn't see her doing this, but she knew otherwise. Her mother was clever and kind like that.

After a few minutes had passed, Anita's mother finally spoke after she sampled her ice cream.

"Do you remember that game we used to play when you were little, Anita? The one about the stories? We used to play it whenever we went to visit your father at work and we had to wait for him to go on his lunch hour. Remember?"

She didn't remember. Couldn't, really. But her mother's voice sounded thick and heavy rather suddenly and her aura was crackling and turned like the sky filling with a rainstorm.

"Yes, Mum," she lied.

"You were always so good at it. I remember often times it was you telling the stories rather than me."

Anita went back to her ice cream, waiting for her mother to continue. When she didn't, Anita looked over to her. "Should we play now?"

"If you would like," was her mother's response.

"Do you want to go first?"

Her mother smiled softly. "I think I'd like for you to go first. It is a special day for you, after all."

"A-Alright…What should the story be about?"

"Hmm…let me think." Mrs. Martin looked about for a moment, her lips pursed slightly. "Ah, yes," she finally said. "I think I've got it. How about…a little girl, a goose, and a blue flower."

Anita began to lick at her ice cream, ideas forming rather quickly in her mind with the few items she was given. Like her mother knew, it didn't take her long to form something.

"A long time ago," Anita began, speaking slowly at first as she formed the blossoming ideas into words. "There was a little girl. She lived all alone in a cottage near the sea. Her parents were often away, her father on business and her mother traveling to see the world. The little girl would have been very lonely if it weren't for a goose she had as a companion. She had saved it when it was a just a little gosling and the two became the best of friends. They went on adventures together, often times getting into trouble along the way. But they didn't care because they had each other. One day, they were walking about in a field of flowers that grew on a hillside near the cottage. The day was warm and the little girl-"

"Oh! There's your father."

Anita was cut off rather abruptly by her mother's exclamation and saw that her father was waving to them across the street in front of Ollivander's.

Her mother stood. "Come along, Anita. Perhaps we can finish that lovely little story some other time, hm?"

"Yeah, okay…"

Anita followed her mother, but not before tossing what was left of her ice cream in to the bin near the tables. She had lost her appetite.

When they reached her father, he knelt down before her, his smile wide. "Alright my darling girl. Are you excited?"

"To get my wand?"

"But of course. You know, when I was your age, I was actually dreadfully nervous. Had no earthly idea what that old man would give me or what wand would choose me. But when we found each other-" he snapped his fingers. "It was like…"

"Magic?"

Mr. Martin laughed. "Yes. Magic. Now." He stood. "Go on inside. Your mother and I will be right here."

Anita looked from her parents to the building (which now suddenly looked ominous with its great peeling yellow letters over the doorway and shabby façade). "You're not coming with me?"

"Well, your mother and I have to run a quick errand. But we will be back and waiting for you, won't we dear?"

Her mother nodded. "That's right."

Anita stared. Another errand? What was so important that neither one of them could come with her?

"Now," her mother was saying. "Here's a little change purse. I've put enough money for the wand in there for you. Be a good girl, mind your manners." She gave her daughter a quick peck on the cheek.

"Yes, Mum."

"That's my girl. Now, go on. Your father and I will be here waiting for you when you return."

So, with one final look at her parents and change purse in hand, Anita turned to the door and pushed it open.

When Anita entered, she saw no one at first. Shelves and shelves stood before her, lined top to bottom with wand boxes, all of them by the looks of it, covered in a thin layer of dust. The whole place seemed to be coated. From the little lighting that entered through the grimy windows, Anita could faintly see the small particles floating about her.

She sneezed.

"Ah!" A cry came from the back, startling her. "Miss Martin, I was wondering when you'd enter my shop today."

Anita sniffed and rubbed at her nose. "I'm sorry?"

A rather old man came from between the shelves. There was an impish smile on his wrinkled face and his silvery gray eyes seemed to twinkle. "Yes. There you are, Miss Martin. At last! It seems like only yesterday when your parents came through that exact door, just as you did. Your father received a rather nice chestnut wand, dragon heartstring core, twelve inches exactly with a slightly yielding flexibility…"

"Mr. Ollivander-"

"Yes…Yes, and your mother, a fine one made from a sleek alder wood, unicorn hair, ten and a half inches, with surprisingly swishy flexibility. Good for non-verbal spells…" He seemed far away as he spoke and rounded about the desk in front of him. "I'm curious," he went on, "as to what your wand will be, Miss Martin. I have my presumptions, but we shall see."

He clapped his hands and pulled out a measuring tape from his coat pocket.

"Now, Miss Martin," he said in a rather matter of fact tone. "Which is your wand arm?"

"Um…I write with my right hand."

"Very good. Hold it up, if you please. Thank you."

As the measuring tape went from her wrist to her elbow, her elbow to her shoulder, and then shoulder to floor, Ollivander went about the shelves, flitting from each one, pulling out several boxes and stacking them onto one another. He was muttering to himself as he approached her. The measuring tape collapsed on the floor.

"Here we are my dear," he announced, pulling a wand from its box. "Willow, unicorn hair, eleven inches. Give it a wave."

Anita took the wand and, before she could even make a motion, it was snatched rather hastily from her hand and just as quickly replaced with another.

"Maple, dragon heartstring, ten and a half inches."

This time, she was able to move the wand only slightly, causing the books piled on the nearby desk to go flying off into the shelves with a loud crash.

"No, no. Try this one. Pine, dragon heartstring, nine and a half inches. Go on. Three times the charm."

A wave of the wand burst the clock on the wall, sending the mechanical pieces to the floor.

"Absolutely not."

The wand was torn from her hand and she watched as he disappeared up the stairs that led up to a small landing, where even more shelves of wands stood. It was a dimly lit area and she wondered how on earth the old man could see up there.

She heard him mumbling to himself and boxes being rooted around and moved on the shelves. There was a moment of silence, then. The air, though stagnant, seemed to still even more so at the quiet.

Finally, Ollivander emerged, moving down the stairs rather hastily. Without a word, he took the wand from its box and handed it to her.

It was as if something were suddenly coursing through her veins. A tingle danced over her skin, like electricity, as if all the hairs on her body stood up. All of a sudden, the musty air around her seemed to shift and the faint smell of limes, rosehips, and waterlilies filled her nose.

When she looked over at Ollivander, there was the same smile she'd seen before, but his eyes were bright and curious. All around him danced a plethora of color, an exciting blend of oranges and yellows.

"Yes. Yes, I knew this would be the one."

Anita looked at the wand in her hand. It was a light brown wood. At the end, lithe fairies seemed to be emerging from the wood, the wings filigreed with spider web thin veins of gold. Their arms reached up in an elegant, dancer-like way towards an orb of smooth moonstone that was wrapped in a nest of intricately carved branches. Yes. It was exactly as if they were dancing and reaching for the moon itself.

"It's beautiful," she said.

"Beautiful, yes," Ollivander said. "Beautiful and very unique."

"Unique?"

"Oh, yes, Miss Martin. It is indeed unique in more ways than one. You see, the wood is silver lime. A rather rare wood to be making wands out of, especially since they are attracted to a certain kind of witch or wizard."

"What do you mean?"

"Silver lime, Miss Martin is a wand for seers." He peered closely at her. "Those who can see far into the beyond where others cannot tread."

Anita thought of her dreams, her nightmares, the colors as they formed around the people she saw. "I don't understand, Mr. Ollivander."

"You're a very special little girl, Miss Martin. Yes, very special indeed. I do believe great things are in store for you. With a wand such as that. Yes, yes I do believe it will be so."

A wave of unease washed over her. She suddenly didn't feel so well. "Th-Thank you, Mr. Ollivander." She handed the wand back to him and he slipped it into its box.

After she paid him the money from the small purse her mother had given her and, with the wand box in hand, she slipped out into the sunshine.

"Ah, there she is!" Her mother and father were indeed waiting for her, her mother holding what looked like a small crate. Through the slats, something moved within. Both of them, Anita noticed, were smiling.

"What's in there?" Anita asked, gesturing to the crate.

"Well, why don't you open it and see?" Mrs. Martin turned the opening towards Anita. "Go on, now."

Anita lifted the latch and the door of the crate swung open. Almost rather immediately, a whiskered face emerged and looked at her with shimmering mint green eyes. It meowed in greeting.

"You…You bought me a cat!?" Anita could not conceal her excitement. In haste, she almost dropped her wand box as he passed it over to her father. She took the cat from the crate and held her. The cat began to purr rather contentedly as Anita stroked her short and rather soft fur.

"She's beautiful!" she exclaimed. "Oh, Mum, Dad, I love her!"

"We knew you would." Her father grinned. "What will you name her?"

"Magpie," was the rather quick answer. Really, she didn't have to give it much thought. "She has black and white fur, just like their colors." She smiled at the cat. "You like that name, don't you? Magpie?"

As if in response, the cat meowed once again.

"Magpie it is, then," said Mr. Martin. "Now, Anita. Time to get you to Flourish and Blotts. I'm sure Draco and his father have already made their way there by now."

"That's right! Of course!" Quickly, she said goodbye to Magpie and gave her a quick kiss on her head before putting her back in the crate and closing the door.

"I'll get her books, Marianne, while I'm there." Mr. Martin had turned to his wife. "Will you be fine getting her robes?"

"Of course. I have her measurements with me."

"Alright. We'll meet you back the menagerie."

"Yes, dear."

With her father holding her hand, they went separately from her mother until they reached Flourish and Blotts. Sure enough, Lucius and Draco were already there.

"Ah, William. It's good to see you again. Hogwarts shopping, are you?"

"Yes. Marianne is off getting Anita's robes."

Lucius smiled down at Anita. "And are you excited to be attending Hogwarts, Anita?"

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy."

"Very good. Perhaps you'll be sorted into Slytherin. A fine house for any great aspiring witch or wizard. Especially given your father and mother's status."

"Actually," Mr. Martin interjected. "Marianne and I were hoping she'd be in Gryffindor."

Anita turned to her father. "What about Hufflepuff?"

Lucius and Mr. Martin began to chuckle. "Anita, you can do better," her father said.

"But that was Mum's house and-"

"Draco," Lucius interrupted over her. "Why don't you show Anita around? William, let's get your daughter's books, shall we? The Standard Book of Spells is just over here."

Anita's face reddened at the swift dismissal and she glared daggers at the retreating backs.

"You alright there?"

She turned to Draco and took a deep breath. "Yes. I guess."

"Don't worry about what your father said." Draco smiled at her. "Come on. Let's take a look around. I want to get you a gift."

"I thought those tickets were my gift?"

"Those? Those were just a surprise." Draco gestured around him. "Seriously though. Whatever you want, it's yours."

"Draco-"

"Really. I have plenty of money. Father insisted on it."

"Well…" Anita began to pick at her sleeves. "Alright."

The two of them began to wonder about, pulling interesting books from the shelves and examining them. As they did, Anita told him about Ollivander's (Draco was to be going after he and his father left Flourish & Blotts) and Magpie, while Draco told her that he'd seen the new Nimbus 2000. "It looks amazing!" He said as he shelved a book on magic fish and sea plants. "Anita, really, you should have seen it! I bet it flies super fast!"

"Are you going to try out for Quidditch next year?"

Draco shrugged. "I wish I could try out this year. It's silly how they won't let us bring our own brooms or that first years can't be on the team. Can't you see it, though?" He mocked a pose, putting his fists on his hips and puffing out his scrawny chest. "Draco Malfoy, Slytherin's seeker!"

Anita laughed.

"You laugh now, but just you wait. I'm going to be the best seeker Slytherin's ever had." He grabbed another book and looked at the back, then shelved it. "Anita, I don't bother you when I talk about Quidditch do I?"

"No. Why?"

Draco shrugged again. "I dunno. I was at Madame Malkin's getting fitted for my robes and there was this kid who came in with this giant man waiting for him outside instead of his parents and-"

"Where were his parents?"

"I think he said they were dead."

Anita's eyes widened. "Oh, Draco! That's awful!"

"I know! I felt bad for him. Anyways, before that, though, I was talking about which house I'd probably be in and then I started going on about Quidditch." Draco's face twisted around in confusion. "I don't think he liked me, much. He didn't say a whole lot of anything and he left rather quickly."

"Maybe he was just tired?" Anita suggested.

"I guess." He turned to her. "Found anything, yet?"

Anita held the book out to him.

He took it from her and read the title. "Into the Forest: A Personal Guide to Foraging the Flowers and Fungi Around You."

"I bet it'll be a lot of fun! I've heard about the forests around Hogwarts. I can only imagine all the things in it."

"If you say so." Draco looked at her. "You're sure?"

"Positive."

"Alright then."

Anita followed Draco to the back of the store, where he paid for the book and handed it back to her. "Happy birthday," he said.

"Thank you, Draco."

"It's no problem." He threw an arm over her shoulders and smiled at her. "After all: What are friends for?"