I wish to say thank you to my two reviewers for Chapter 5 - bandqsecurtiyaw and HaRrYrOxMuhSoX. I like what happens in this chapter, and this scene was one of those that inspired this story, but it's true significance won't be apparent for a couple of chapters yet. I don't know that I did justice to what my idea was, but I'm still new at it all. Anyway, I enjoy your reviews and hope to see more of them for future chapters.
Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related materialsare owned by JK Rowling. The idea of Dawn is owned by Joss Whedon.
Dawn and Ginny stopped by the apothecary before heading for Ollivander's. Harry and Ron were just finishing ringing out their school supplies, Hermione clucking her tongue impatiently all the while. After the witch passed Harry his change Dawn began pestering him.
"Come to Ollivander's with me," Dawn asked. "That man creeps me out." Harry put up a light resistance but her incessant pleading won out. So the five of them worked their way across the busy marketplace of Diagon Alley and in front of Ollivander's store. Just as they reached the door, however, one of Ron's bags split, spilling potion ingredients throughout the cobblestone street. Some of the liquids mixed together and a foul smoke began to rise.
The group stopped, Ron started cursing under his breath and Hermione bent down to begin cleaning the mess. Harry began taking an inventory of the things that needed to be replaced and he and Ginny headed back to the apothecary to replace them.
Dawn wasn't sure where she was needed most, but seeing as she was left standing with Ron and Hermione she started to help with the cleaning effort, but Hermione shooed her off. "This mixture is pretty dangerous. Let Ron and I take care of that. You go and get your wand. Sometimes it takes awhile to find the right one, anyway."
"I don't like that guy," Dawn said and gave Hermione a pleading look that clearly said 'I don't want to go in there alone.' But Hermione was busy neutralizing the spilled potion ingredients and either didn't notice or flat-out ignored Dawn's pleading, while Ron was still fretting over what his mother's reaction would be, so Dawn entered the store alone, albeit with a timid step.
As she closed the door behind her, Dawn was somewhat relieved that Mr. Ollivander wasn't to be seen. She walked to the counter and took a deep breath before ringing the bell. His skinny and hunched form, gaunt from age, appeared at once from behind a stack of shelves, the grisly gray hair on his balding head standing out in all directions. He looked at her appraisingly and it seemed to Dawn that he saw straight through her. His eyes were pale silver and didn't blink the whole time he was watching Dawn. Dawn broke the stare, her eyes danced timidly side to side before as she waited for him to speak.
"What are you doing here?"
"Umm, I need a new wand," Dawn said, thinking it was obvious. "My last one was broken."
Mr. Ollivander didn't pay her words any mind. "There's no one in there." Dawn felt the blood retreat from her face. Ollivander pointed a crooked old finger directly at her face. "It's empty. Skin's too tight." He was muttering under his breath and Dawn couldn't make out all the words.
"What- what are you talking about?" she asked with a bit of fear. Ollivander's eyes suddenly lost their blank stare and began darting back and forth furiously, seemingly trying to take it all in at once.
"It's here. It's here. It's here. It's here. It's here…" Ollivander repeated the phrase over and over and each time stepping closer to Dawn. She hurriedly backed towards the door. Her breath was coming in short bursts and her heart beating madly; her fear rose within her and she felt a pressing need to run away. She reached the door and fumbled for the knob, but just as her fingers felt the cool metal it turned of its own accord. She screamed and turned to run, pulling open the door as she went.
She ran smack into Harry.
"Harry," Dawn cried in relief and she felt tears rolling down her face. She was so glad to see Harry, he could make everything better. Harry embraced her, she was shaking, and worked their way into the lobby of Ollivander's. He led her to a chair and turned to the old wizard for help.
"Oh, Mr. Potter. How good to see you," Ollivander seemed surprised at Harry's entrance. "And young Miss Potter, what a pleasant surprise to see the two of you today. Of course, I have heard about the unfortunate accident with your wand, Miss Potter, and I have been expecting your appearance." The old man seemed perturbed at Dawn's upset state.
"What just happened?" demanded Harry. "Why is my sister crying?"
"I have no idea what could be the matter. Is there anything I can do to help?" Harry shook his head no, bewildered at the situation. "Please take all the time you need," Mr. Ollivander said, then busied himself behind the counter while Dawn regained her control.
"You… y-you… said s-s-something to me. You said 'nothing's in there'" Dawn was trying hard to regain her composure, but her eyes were still watery and her voice was shaking. "That I was empty, my skin's too tight." She shot him a nervous glare, but only saw the wandmaker standing bewildered behind the counter.
"How odd, Miss Potter, I recall saying no such thing. You are sure? Aren't you?" He was clearly uncomfortable with the girl's tears. "Of course you're sure. Why, when you walked in with your brother just now is the first I've seen of you in many years." He was flustered and seemed sincere when he said he didn't remember. He also didn't seem to be used to seeing girls cry, Harry noted. "Would… would you like something to drink," he offered to try and soothe the girl.
"No. I'll… I'll be fine," Dawn said, hoping it was true. "Just give us a minute?"
"Of course," Mr. Ollivander replied and shuffled back to his workstation. Dawn turned to Harry.
"He did. He did say something." She was emphatic about it. "But he doesn't remember." A few last tears escaped down her cheek. Harry looked to her, worried.
"Do you want to come back later? We don't have to get your wand today." His concern for her outweighed everything else and Dawn pulled herself together.
"No, I just want it over with and to get out of here." With that she walked to the counter and rang the small bell. Mr. Ollivander must have been waiting for her because he appeared instantly.
"Ah. Are we ready now?" he asked. Dawn nodded in reply. "Good." The familiar magic tape measure began taking its measurements, and while Dawn tried standing perfectly still it was rather difficult as the measure seemed to have a sense about finding the places that were the most ticklish. She tried to keep her mind off of it and listen to Mr. Ollivander. "I hope everything is all right with you, my dear. I have no shame in saying I have a soft spot where you and your brother are concerned. Are you sure you wouldn't like a refreshment?"
"Thank you, but I'm fine." Dawn was warming up to the old man. He genuinely seemed to care for her well being, his eyes were kindly and confirmed his sincerity, and mannerisms she had thought were creepy she now saw as a consequence of age and the solitude of wand making. The pale, unblinking eyes, although unchanged, were warm and friendly, and didn't scare her the way they had when she was younger. She smiled at him softly and answered his question. "I don't want to spoil my dinner." Harry gave her a look, he knew she was just being polite, but decided not to call her on it after her scare.
"Of course not. Let's get started shall we," Ollivander said, a soft smile gracing his features and making him seem even more fatherly than before. He then flicked his wand causing the tape measure to roll itself up and place itself in a drawer. He then handed her a wand. "Try this one for starters. Quite long, fourteen inches. Made of butternut and ash, with a core of unicorn tail." Dawn waved the wand, but nothing happened.
"No. That's not it," he said grabbing another wand off the shelf. "How about this one? Eleven inches, rosewood and dragon claw."
Another dud.
"Twelve and a half inches," he began, handing her another wand, "Musclewood and Hippogriff talon."
They worked through wand after wand, some as short as nine inches, and some nearly as long as Hagrid's. There were all kinds of woods, from oak and pine, to ebony, rosewood, and holly. There were cores from every part of every beast imaginable. They were building up an impressive display of unsuitable wands and still hadn't found one suited to her. Ginny came in to see what was taking so long and was astonished to see Dawn trying wand after wand with no end in sight. Ginny went out to get Ron and Ron got Hermione. Soon enough Ollivander's was packed with people, the Weasley's were there, as were the Lovegoods, who had apparently just arrived, Neville Longbottom with his grandmother, even a few passersby who had noticed what was going on and stopped to stare.
The discard pile continued to grow and, while Dawn was getting more discouraged with each failure, Mr. Ollivander got more excited. Harry found it remarkably fascinating and was counting the wands as the pile grew. "146, 147, 148. What's the record anyway," he asked. Ollivander paused for just a moment.
"Three hundred and ninety four. No reason to get discouraged, I have thousands of wands at the ready. We will find one for your sister, yet."
There were a couple of false starts, one wand started to produce sparks as Dawn touched it, but quickly put itself out as she grasped it into her hand. Another caused all the candles to go out, although Dawn thought it was more likely due to the wind coming in through the open door. Whenever something like that happened the crowd groaned in disappointment, but Dawn was enjoying the attention and just giggled while Ollivander was nearly skipping with joy.
"I haven't had a customer this challenging in quite some time, Miss Potter, but I know there is a wand in here somewhere."
They continued trying wands and still hadn't found a match. Some of the crowd was getting anxious while others were getting impatient, but nobody was leaving. Harry had counted two hundred and thirteen when Ollivander stopped and looked blankly at the shelf. He thought for a moment and suddenly let out a shout and fairly ran into the back workshop. He returned quickly holding a long leather covered box, stained red and decorated with tassels of strange black hair. Dawn took the box and with Ollivander's encouragement removed the lid.
The red leather box was lined with pillowed white silk and nestled on top of that was a long, thin red colored wand. Dawn had never seen a wand so thin. She touched the base of the wand and immediately a shower of green lights erupted from the end and swirled around her. It was like being caught in a shower of glowing fall leaves. The lights floated and twirled around her, separating and combining into beautiful patterns which encompassed her in their light and left a pale glow on her cheeks. Though she couldn't see them Dawn could feel the excitement of the people in the crowd.
Dawn found herself wondering what one of the green lights would feel like. Would it be hot? would it be cold? Would it be painful, or would it be pleasurable? She reached out to touch one, but just before she made contact the spell lifted, the lights dissolved into tiny groups of sparkles, twinkling as they fell toward the floor, and then disappearing one by one, as if each was some tiny candle being put out by miniscule invisible hands. The glow from the spell faded and Dawn found herself back in the musty old wand shop, just a normal witch choosing her wand.
Her audience held a shocked silence and then burst into sudden applause. Never had a wand choosing been so exciting, so intriguing. Dawn barely recognized her brother's voice as he asked old Mr. Ollivander about the make of the wand.
"Yes," began Mr. Ollivander, although for once he seemed reluctant to answer. "The wood is from a Willow, Red Willow specifically…"
He was interrupted by Dawn. "Then why is it so thin? I've never seen a wand like this."
"No, I should think not," he gave her one of his trademark stares. "Just a month ago, I was traveling, collecting wand materials, you know, and there was one young tree, a sapling really, that the bowtruckles just wouldn't leave alone. I removed them carefully like I always do, and no sooner would I remove one than another would take its place. Such was the power of this young sapling they guarded it incessantly. The tree was such a small tree, but I knew it would be powerful and I just had to have some of it. There wasn't a single branch of adequate size, so I took just one of the new growths hoping to come back and collect more as the tree matured. The young twigs, they grow long and thin like that you see, and for the first few weeks the bark is that brilliant red color. As you can well imagine, that wand was quite difficult to make."
Dawn took in this information before asking, "Are there a lot of other wands made from this tree? This Red Willow?"
"Alas, no," he answered, "I went searching for it, of course, but never could find it. That Willow just seems to have up and moved on me. I have a couple of theories, actually…"
Harry interrupted the old wand maker before he could launch into another story. "Our mother's wand was Willow."
"Yes, it was Mr. Potter. An excellent wand at that. Quite swishy, it was especially good for charm work, as will be this one. Your sister's wand, actually, is a bit more powerful and will excel at any discipline."
"Willow," Dawn said. "I really like Willow, thank you. How much is it," she asked while fumbling with her bag.
"Ten galleons," was his automatic response, "a bit pricier than the average wand, but well worth it in my opinion. The box comes with." He held the box open in front of him and Dawn nestled the wand on the satin lining. She felt some force, some primal attraction, binding it to her, and she didn't really want to let go, but she did let her finger wander over the surface before releasing her grip.
Ollivander closed the box, then a thought crossed his mind and he opened it again. Taking the wand in both hands, Dawn gasped as he bent it completely around in a loop. "The nice thing about such young wood," he said, "is that it is much too flexible to break." The old man gave her a wink as he returned the wand to its box. "But please be careful just the same."
Dawn promised she would be and counted out her ten galleons while he placed it in its bag. She turned to leave, but stopped as Hermione rushed to the counter.
"Excuse me, sir," Hermione addressed the old wizard, "but I'm curious about the core of that wand." Dawn was so awed she had forgotten to ask one of the most important questions. She silently derided herself for that oversight.
"Oh, how careless of me," Ollivander apologized, "I get so carried away with my stories I'd forget my head if it wasn't screwed on straight, you know how old age is."
He gave Hermione a look and laughed. "Well, I'm sure you've read about it any way. Where was I? Oh yes, the core," Hermione's impatience was clear and Ollivander rushed to continue, "The core to that wand, Miss Potter, is Thestral Hair - Graciously donated by an animal I think you may be familiar with. Goes by the name of Tenebrius… He was one of Mr. Hagrid's first foals I believe. An unusual combination for sure, Thestral hair usually works best in Yew, or sometimes Holly, woods which have powerful connections to death." He glanced quickly at Harry, who instinctively flattened his hair over his scar. "This wand would take no other core, however. Surely, we can expect great things from you as well."
Harry snatched Dawn's hand and hurried to leave, dragging Dawn behind him. Taking this as their sign that the show was over the crowd began to disperse. Neville Longbottom stopped to greet the Potters and their crew, as did Luna Lovegood, and after they all promised to meet at the Leaky Cauldron, Neville shyly took his turn at the counter. Neville's wand had been broken at the Department of Mysteries too, Harry recalled, before he followed Hermione, Ginny, and Ron back into the street, still dragging Dawn behind.