Dawn sat at a table eating icecream with Harry, Ron and Hermione. They'd left to let Fred and George reopen their joke shop. Dawn had seated herself where she could watch what was going on in the Alley, so she saw the white owl approaching. She was surprised to see it out during the day, and more surprised that it seemed to be coming right at them. "Um, guys?"

Dawn was really surprised when the owl swooped right over their table and dropped a couple of envelopes on it. It did quick roll in the air and settled down on the back of Harry's chair. Ron, Hermione and Harry all reacted like this was the normal way that mail got delivered. No one else in the ice cream parlour seemed to take any notice either.

Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag. He dumped something that looked like a raisins out of it into his palm and held them up by his shoulder. The owl daintily picked them out of his hand with its beak. Harry smiled at the expression on Dawn's face. "Dried rat livers," he told her. "Hedwig just loves them." He stroked the owl affectionately. "Don't you girl?"

The owl hooted, and pecked at Harry's ear.

"So owls delivering mail is a normal thing?" asked Dawn.

"Works a lot better than the Muggle post," said Ron. "The one time my mum tried to use it to send Harry a letter, it took days to get there." He watched Harry pick up the envelopes and look at the addresses. Harry's eyebrows went up a bit, and handed one of them to Dawn. "This one's for you."

Dawn looked at the envelope. It was identical to the one that she had gotten that morning, except for the address:

Miss Dawn Summers
Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Table 4
Diagon Alley
London

She opened the envelope and pulled out the parchment inside. This time she recognised her sister's handwriting.

Dawn,

Professor Dumbledore has asked Harry to take you to get a wand. Apparently you may need one.

Buffy.

Harry was looking just as surprised as Dawn felt. He looked up at her, and then left and right at Ron and Hermione. "The Professor wants me to take Dawn to Ollivanders." He smiled at Dawn. "I guess we're really going to have to stop calling you a Muggle."

Harry, Ron and Hermione took Dawn back down the Alley to a shop Dawn had noticed when they'd passed by it before. It wasn't too far from Fred and George's joke shop. The sign over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. From the look of the peeling gold paint, Dawn suspected that the sign was the original. A single wand on a faded purple pillow was on display in the window.

The door opened into a small empty shop and a bell jingled somewhere in the back. There was a single stool in the small open space. Thousands of narrow boxes were stacked high against the wall. Harry looked around and smiled. "You know, it seems bigger when you aren't here with Hagrid."

"So, you're back, Mr. Potter?"

Dawn yipped, and jumped. She hadn't seen the old man appear. She was pleased to see that she wasn't the only one who had been startled. Ron, Harry and Hermione and all jumped too.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander," said Harry.

"I hear that your wand is working out quite well for you, Mr. Potter," said Mr. Ollivander. "Eleven inches, supple, holly, and phoenix feather."

"Yes, Mr. Ollivander, it has been most satisfactory," said Harry.

"Any you, Mr. Weasley?" asked Ollivander. "Taking proper care of your wand? Willow, fourteen inches, unicorn tail hair. I sincerely hope that you are not here to replace it again?"

"Oh no, Mr. Ollivander," said Ron quickly. "I'm taking very good care of it." He pulled his wand out of his pocket. "See, not even a scratch on it."

Ollivander turned to look at Dawn. "So you must be Miss Summers. Dumbledore informed me that you would be requiring a wand. So which is your wand hand?"

"Um, the right, I guess," said Dawn.

"Very good." Mr Ollivander started measuring Dawn. The length of her arm, the circumference of her wrist, and every other body dimension imaginable, and some that Dawn had never imagined anyone measuring. He turned away and started selecting boxes from the stacks along the wall. Dawn's eyes went wide as the tape measure continued to take measurements.

Mr. Ollivander started to talk as he selected boxes. Harry recognised his spiel from when he was here to get his wand. It seemed that he never changed it. "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Miss Summers. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course you will never get such good results from another witch's wand."

He turned back to Dawn and held out an open box to her. "Here, give this one a try. Nine and a half inches, quite flexible, maple, with a unicorn hair core."

Dawn picked up the wand and looked at it. It seemed awfully flimsy to her.

"Go ahead, give it a flick," said Ollivander.

"Like this?" Dawn flicked the wand in the air, and nothing happened.

Mr. Ollivander snatched the wand out of her hand. "No, not that one." He gave her another. "Oak, ten inches, phoenix feather core."

Dawn flicked again, and again nothing happened. "Maybe I'm not really cut out for this magic thing."

Ollivander snatched the wand out of her hand. "Nonsense. I can feel your power. It's just a matter of finding the right match." He gave her another wand. "Ash, twelve and a quarter inches, dragon's heartstring." Dawn raised it to flick, but he snatched it away again. "Nope, not that one. I think you are going to be my biggest challenge since Mr. Potter here."

"We tried out over a hundred before he found the right one for me," said Harry.

"One hundred and thirty-four, Mr. Potter." Mr. Ollivander smiled at the memory. "Oh, yes, you were quite the challenge."

Mr. Ollivander kept handing Dawn wands, and she kept flicking and swishing, and pretty much nothing kept happening. She was a little cheered when one sturdy little wand produced a couple of weak sparks, but Ollivander snatched it away too, and kept looking. Dawn's arm was starting to feel like it was ready to fall off from all the swishing.

Mr. Ollivander was just getting more and more excited. "Oh, I haven't had a challenge like this in decades!" He disappeared into the back of his shop, and came back a little later with an armload of boxes. "The wand picks the witch, Miss Summers! We'll find a match for you yet!"

Dawn kept swishing and flicking, and nothing kept happening. Even Mr. Ollivander's excitement began to wane. He looked around at the jumble of boxes that had been his nice neat little shop. "I really don't understand this…" He frowned at Dawn. "I always say that the wand picks the witch, but it's really a case of them picking each other. It's just that the wands are usually much more picky than the witches…Is there anything in particular about these wands that isn't meeting with your approval?"

"Not really," said Dawn. "Well… Most of them seem to be a little flimsy to me."

"Flimsy, Miss Summers?"

"Uh, yeah, it's, um, I can't help it. I pick up a piece of wood, and I can't help wondering how good a stake it would make…and most of these are kinda flimsy."

"Stake?" Mr. Ollivander was looking quite aghast.

"Yeah." Dawn picked up one of the wands, and made a stabbing motion with it. "For killing vampires." Mr. Ollivander was looking totally outraged. She remembered his question to Ron about how he was taking care of his wand when they came into the shop. "Not that I would ever do that with a wand!" she said quickly. "I mean if I had a wand it would probably be much easier to set it on fire or something."

"You stake vampires?" asked Mr. Ollivander.

"Well, only two, so far…and I missed the heart on the second one, but it's something I think about a lot."

"Oh dear, oh dear," said Mr. Ollivander. He disappeared into his back room. He came back out carrying just one box. "I told you that I only use unicorn hairs, phoenix feathers, and dragon heartstrings in my wands. I should add that I only use items that have been freely given by their donors."

"Dragons give their heartstrings voluntarily?" asked Dawn.

"They can bequeath them in their wills," said Mr. Ollivander, "but that is beside the point. Other mystical creatures may also provide the cores for wands, such as the Veela hair in Miss Delacour's wand. A year and a half ago something quite extraordinary came on the market, and I'm afraid I couldn't resist the temptation to see what could be done with it." He opened the box, and showed its contents to Dawn. "Ebony, nine and a half inches."

Dawn felt the wand calling to her. It was beautiful, deep midnight black and much more robust looking than any of the other wands she had seen. Half an inch in diameter, and tapering to a nice point. "Now that you could stake something with!" She reached out and picked it up. It fit her hand perfectly. The ache in her arm muscles vanished and she swished it through the air. It left a trail that looked like green fireflies, that slowly settled toward the floor.

"Wicked!" said Ron.

Dawn smiled at him. "You start saying 'five by five' and I'll hit you."

"Huh?" asked everyone.

"Never mind." Dawn turned back to Mr. Ollivander. "You didn't say what the core was."

"Well, yes, um, you see, there's a bit of a problem there." Mr. Ollivander was looking quite embarrassed. "The core actually inspired the shape of the wand."

"It's not vampire blood is it? 'Cause that would be way creepy."

"No! No! Nothing like that. Quite the opposite in fact. It is a hair from a Slayer."

"Way cool!" said Dawn.

"But I can not, in good conscience sell you that wand," said Mr. Ollivander.

Dawn's face fell. "But— No! It feels so perfect!"

"The wand is yours," said Mr. Ollivander. "I just can't sell it to you."

"What do you mean?" asked Dawn.

"Take it. I'm giving it to you. I'm afraid the dealer of the hair was someone of rather low reputation. I cannot in good conscience sell you that wand because I doubt if the Slayer gave it up voluntarily. The Doctor was reputed to be a most shady character."

"The Doctor, huh?" asked Dawn. "Tell me, was this hair dyed blonde by any chance?"

"No, no!" said Mr. Ollivander. "Dying the hair would quite destroy its mystical properties!" He started to turn quite red. "This hair had not been dyed."

"Oh," said Dawn. "Oh! Spike is so lucky he's dead! Buffy would rip him into tiny pieces!"

"What are you talking about?" asked Ron. Dawn looked around at him and saw the puzzled expression on his face, which matched the one on Harry's. Hermione was looking like she understood.

"You so do not need to know," said Dawn. "If you ever did know it could be very hazardous to your health."

Dawn turned back to Mr. Ollivander. "If you've got any more of those hairs, I suggest you burn them or something. Slayer hair isn't going to be such a rare commodity any more. I know several sources of it now…How much would you pay for some that a Slayer gave up willingly?"

Dawn saw that Ron really perked up when he heard that question. He deflated again on hearing Mr. Ollivander's answer. "I do not pay. The hair must be freely given. Your wand was a one off experiment, I never meant to sell it."

"Well, I for one am very glad you made it," said Dawn. "And if it will ease your conscience, why don't you come along…if you can leave your shop. I'll introduce you to my sister, the Slayer who donated the hair. She's probably starting to wonder what's taking us so long. I'm sure she'll give retroactive approval for its use in my wand." Dawn leaned closer to him. "Probably best not to mention that dye thing though," she whispered.

"The Slayer is here?" asked Mr. Ollivander.

"She's in the Cauldron, with Professor Dumbledore," said Harry.


They left Ron and Hermione down on the ground floor of the Leaky Cauldron, and Harry took Dawn and Mr. Ollivander back up to the sitting room where Buffy and Giles were still discussing various things with Professor Dumbledore. Harry knocked on the door, and they were invited inside.

Dawn introduced Buffy and Giles to Mr. Ollivander. "He's the man who made my wand!" She swished it through the air, leaving another trail of green fireflies.

"Looks like it would make a good stake too!" said Buffy.

Dawn saw the look on Ollivander's face. "Not that I would ever do that!" She smiled. "The best part is that you are the magical being who provided its core!"

"What?" asked Buffy.

"I'm afraid I owe you a most profound apology, Miss Summers," said Mr. Ollivander. "But when some hair of the Slayer came onto the market eighteen months ago, I couldn't resist the temptation. I had to see what sort of wand could be made with it."

"Eighteen months…" Buffy thought about that for a couple of seconds. "Spike! Selling my hair. I oughta have Willow resurrect him, just so I can stake him!"

Ollivander hung his head. "Again, my most profound apologies, Miss Summers. Your sister's wand is the only one I made with that hair, and I never intended it for sale, in fact I am gifting it to your sister."

"Oh, stop apologising," said Buffy. "I'm not upset with you. Just mildly annoyed at certain peroxided vampire." She pulled at a couple of strands of her hair. "You want some more?"

"Oh, no! I couldn't! And, um…"

"I'll explain it to her later." Dawn gave Mr. Ollivander a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "In private."

Mr. Ollivander managed to say goodbye to Buffy without apologising again. He left the room. Dawn turned to her sister. "So, you going to tell me why I get a wand?"

"Dawn, how would you like to go to school at Hogwarts?"

"A boarding school?" Buffy could hear the indignation in Dawn's voice.

Dumbledore laughed. "I assure you Miss Summers, it's not that bad. Harry here quite enjoys it."

"Hogwarts is great!" said Harry. "You'll love it!"

"Nothing has been decided yet, but Professor Dumbledore has invited us up to Hogwarts for a couple of weeks to take a look at the place," said Buffy. "If Ginny takes up our offer, I'll probably be dropping in there to check on her from time to time anyway."

"I want to stay with you," said Dawn.

"I know, but we've talked about this," said Buffy. "You have to go back to school, so we'll have to settle you down somewhere. I'm going to be travelling all the time, checking on the girls, going where I'm needed. I'm not tied down to the Hellmouth anymore." Buffy smiled. "And Mr. Dumbledore wants Willow to spend some time there too, so you may have some company with you."

"But—"

"Nothing's been decided yet, but we're going to take a look at it," said Buffy. "We're leaving Saturday. I understand that it's a castle in Scotland. Complete with ghosts."

"Oh yeah!" said Harry. "Nearly Headless Nick is a great guy, but you'll want to stay away from the Bloody Baron, or Peeves the Poltergeist. Peeves is worse than Fred and George."

They took their leave of Professor Dumbledore, and Harry led Dawn, Buffy and Giles back downstairs where Buffy got introduced to Hermione and Ron. Dawn made another date with them, to go see the movie that they'd missed the day before, and she and Buffy left to go back to their hotel.


Giles was cleaning up in his room, which adjoined the one being shared by Buffy and Dawn. He was startled by the sudden shout he could hear through the door. "My what! Oh, he's so lucky he's dead! I should have Willow resurrect him, just so I can kill him again! Slowly!"

Giles knocked on the connecting door. "What?" asked Buffy.

Giles opened the door slowly, half afraid that something might get thrown his way. When nothing hit the door, or bounced off the frame he opened it the rest of the way and looked in at Buffy and Dawn. Buffy was looking very angry, and Dawn was smirking. "Is there a problem?" he asked.

"No!" said Buffy. Giles raised his eyebrow at her. "Okay, yes, but it's nothing we can do anything about. It's over. It's done, but if anyone ever does resurrect Spike, I am so going to kick his ass!"

"Spike?" asked Giles.

"You really don't want to know Giles," said Dawn. She was still smirking.

Buffy turned and glared at her sister. "And if you don't wipe that smirk off your face, missy, I'm going to kick your ass too! Anyone else know about this?"

"Um…I think Hermione guessed," said Dawn, "but I don't think the others did."

"Others?"

"Ron and Harry were there, but they just looked confused." Dawn glanced at Giles. "Kinda like him right now."

"What are you talking about?" asked Giles.

"Dawn was right, Giles," said Buffy. "You don't want to know."

"Um, well, in that case, are you two ready for dinner?" asked Giles.