A/N: Hello everyone! I did promise that I'd upload this next chapter soon, didn't I? Well, here it is! Talia and Wyatt finally get their wands.
I'm in a bit of a hurry I'm afraid, so I can't thank every single one of last chapter's wonderful reviewers in my usual, detailed manner. I can, however, list them.
Ernie: Can. I. Do. It?
Go right ahead Ernie.
Ernie: Mickis.
Damn, it's good to hear from you again!
Ernie: Mcgirl.
Fast enough for you?
Ernie: Winter. Blaze.
You'll have to wait and see!
Ernie: Roby. Murphy.
I'm not giving anything away on that subject!
Ernie: Svata2004.
Maybe, maybe not.
Ernie: Frances.
Oh, he'll definitely be in it. He's one of my favourites too!
Ernie: Ori.
Wow! Your insight in Talia's character astounds me! And I must say, you have perfected the skill of enlarging my ego with your every review. Please, don't stop!
Ernie: Bob-the-bear.
You are now officially the Head Talia Cheerleader! Congratulations on getting your pom-poms. And thanks for your kind words for Note.
Ernie: Songwithoutwordz..
Thank you for reviewing. I'm so glad you decided to stick with it! And thanks for reviewing my other story too! I have an update emailing list. Want to be on it?
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Thanks also go to the brilliant Nightcrawler for his wonderful beta-ing skills and the witty title.
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Enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to review!
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Wand Fitting
"Talia, there you are!" called an obviously excited Wyatt. "You should have seen it! We have our own vault!"
"Really?" asked Talia, smiling indulgently.
"Yes! Here's your key. Our vault is number 1027. It's huge! And you have to take a rollercoaster to get there!"
"Don't remind me," complained Piper behind him. "I'm still nauseous!"
"Oh, come on honey," comforted Leo putting an arm around his wife, "it wasn't so bad!"
"You need to learn to have some fun once in a while, Piper," commented Phoebe.
"I can have fun!" the eldest Halliwell protested, affronted by her sister's comment.
Phoebe and Paige shared a look.
"Sure you can, sweetie," consoled Paige, a little too quickly to be completely believable.
"I can!" Piper mumbled and pouted.
"Where do yeh wanna go firs' then?" asked Hagrid, his eyes shining. His interruption was well timed. He had only just stopped one of the infamous fights between the Haliwell sisters. "Fer yer school supplies I mean."
Talia and Wyatt looked at each other and grinned.
"The wand shop!" they exclaimed in unison.
Professor Dumbledore had said a few words about wands before leaving, the day before. Each wand was different and suited specifically to its user. Talia and Wyatt couldn't wait to get their hands on their very own wand. Wiccan magic was more powerful, but each incantation took ages to prepare and read correctly, off the Book Of Shadows. Magic with a wand was so much faster! They would have to learn how to use them first of course, but the whole concept of owning a wand brought them that much closer to a completely different, magical, world. It was all very exciting!
"Over 'ere then," said Hagrid beckoning them towards a shop conveniently labelled 'Olivander's Wandmakers'. He couldn't help but chuckle at the teenagers' excited expressions.
Hagrid pushed the door open and boldly stepped inside. The shop was deceptively small on the outside, but once they found themselves in the dusty interior, the Halliwells realised just how deep the shop really was. Still, there wasn't much more to it than rows upon dusty rows of boxes that, Talia assumed, contained wands.
"Come in, come in. Don't be shy!" called out a small, wrinkly, old man with white hair and a receding hairline. "Ah, Professor Hagrid!" he said, obviously delighted at seeing the big man, "Oak, seventeen and a half inches with a hippogriff feather core, am I right?" he asked.
"Spot on, sir," admitted Hagrid.
Wyatt looked at his cousin questioningly. Talia shrugged.
"Now, who's looking for a wand then?" asked the old man, presumably Mr Olivander himself, turning his head to look at the oddly dressed party that had accompanied Hagrid inside the shop.
"Mr. Olivander," said Hagrid," taking it upon himself to make the introductions, "these 'ere are Talia Turner an' Wyatt 'alliwell," he bellowed conversationally. "They'll be joining 'ogwarts in September an' they need wands."
Mr. Olivander focused his evaluating gaze on Talia and Wyatt. Talia felt the strange urge to fidget. She restrained herself. The Princess of the Underworld did not fidget. She had faced a whole lot worse than this, rather week looking, old man, but Mr. Olivander exuded a quality Talia could only describe as Dumbledoresque. Perhaps it was the all-knowing glint in his eyes... Talia placed a careful, neutral expression over her features.
"Right, who wants to go first?" Mr. Olivander asked cheerfully enough.
Wyatt looked at his cousin, but she just shrugged once again.
"I will," the blond sixteen-year-old said, stepping forward.
"All right then, stand over there so I can take your measurements," and with a swish of his wand, a measuring tape floated out in front of Wyatt and started measuring all sorts of different parts of the young man's body. Mr. Olivander looked on with interest.
"Are you right handed, or left handed?" he asked, while the tape measured the height of Wyatt's left ear.
"Right handed," Wyatt answered distractedly, trying to keep up with the frantic movements of the measuring tape as it left his ear to measure the width of his ankle.
This went on for quite a while. Mr Olivander only stopped the tape when it tried to measure the back of Wyatt's knee. For some strange reason, Mr Olivander seemed impressed.
When he finally spoke, it was with an awestruck expression. "You're a Wiccan, aren't you, my boy?"
Wyatt looked nervously back at his family.
"We'd appreciate if yeh kept tha' teh yerself, Mr. Olivande'," said Hagrid. "Dumbledore wants teh keep it under wraps. Teh avoid all the publicity an' all."
"You are all Wiccans?" asked Mr Olivander looking around at the assembled group. His eyes were shining with excitement.
Several nods answered his question.
"This is all very exciting!" he exclaimed. "I must admit, I'm very curious to see what kind of wands you two find," he said looking from Wyatt to Talia. And with that, he turned to one of the shelves behind him, pulled out a box and handed it to Wyatt. "Maple, twelve and a half inches, with a unicorn's hair core," he said proudly.
Wyatt opened the box warily to find a wand, presumably of the old man's description, resting inside.
"Give it a try," urged Mr. Olivander.
With a quick glance at Hagrid for approval, Wyatt lifted the wand out of its box and waved it around half-heartedly.
A huge explosion that forced Mr. Olivander himself, to cover his ears with his hands, caused every box in the shelves in front of him, to launch out of their place and fly at an alarming speed towards the blond-haired Halliwell. Wyatt managed to duck only just in time as wands of all sorts whistled over his head to embed themselves firmly in the wall behind him.
"Wow!" muttered Talia impressed.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Olivander. I honestly didn't mean-"
"It happens, Mr. Halliwell. It is the wand that chooses the wizard, you know. Not the other way around. Don't worry, we'll find you a wand, though it might take a few tries. Not a single customer has ever walked out of this shop without a wand that wasn't their perfect match."
An hour later, the blond boy was still waving various wands around, to no avail. Wand after wand, they tried, and still Wyatt did not seem to find one that suited him.
"Oh for goodness' sake!" exclaimed Piper irately. "How much longer is this going to take? We've still got a lot of shopping to do!"
Mr. Olivander was observing Wyatt with a calculating look as just one more wand joined the ever-increasing pile of inappropriate wands.
"I wonder..." muttered Mr. Olivander, his hand absently caressing his jaw.
The Halliwells watched as the old man pushed a ladder against the shelves and climbed all the way to the top to bring down one, last, dusty box.
"In you, young man, I sense courage and strength of character little seen in one of your age. There's goodness in you too, and purity of heart. All of them are rare qualities nowadays. To top it all off, you are very powerful, and most wands find difficulty in channeling that much power, but I have a feeling that this wand will suit quite nicely." He opened the box to offer the wand to Wyatt. "Give it a wave," he said, standing cautiously back. Dozens of failed efforts in the past hour of trying to locate Wyatt's suitable wand, had taught the wandmaker not to stand too close.
There was something Wyatt couldn't place in Mr. Olivander's voice. The old man seemed very optimistic about this wand and Wyatt looked at it with a little more attention than any of others. Wyatt took the slender object in his hand and lifted it out of its box. It felt light, and the length felt comfortable, he noted. He waved the wand around and was surprised to see a shower of red and green sparkles shoot up into the air at his command.
"I knew it!" Mr. Olivander said enthusiastically, looking delighted.
"It's about time!" muttered Paige.
"Willow. Fourteen and a quarter inches with a gryphon's claw core. Have you any idea how difficult it is to track down a gryphon? There are so few of them left... This wand is unique. My great, great, great grandfather, Alfred, made it, more than seven hundred and fifty years ago, but there has never been a witch or wizard that could command its power. Alfred had been young then, just starting out in the business, and his father chastised him for making such a wand. He felt that it was too powerful for anyone to handle, and thus, it would never find a master. I guess we proved great, great, great grandfather Alfred right today, my boy!" said Mr. Olivander jovially, patting Wyatt congratulatory in the back.
"Looks like yeh got yerself a grea' wand ther' Wyatt!" said Hagrid in congratulations.
Wyatt just seemed relieved. His right hand was aching with all the waving around that he had done.
"And now, the young lady," said Mr Olivander as he turned his attention to Talia. "Would you be so kind as to stand over there while I take your measurements, Miss Turner?"
Talia grinned and stood stock still for the measuring tape as it whizzed around her of its own accord.
"Right handed or left handed, Miss Turner?"
"Left handed."
She gave up trying to follow the tape with her eyes, when it measured the distance between her eyebrows. The thing might have been clever, but it was giving her a headache! Fifteen minutes later the metre was still measuring and Talia was seriously considering, in her annoyance, of incinerating the damn thing with one of her fireballs! Surely it hadn't taken Wyatt this long... She looked up to see Mr. Olivander's reaction, and found the old man frowning. One of Talia's perfectly formed eyebrows flew up in curiosity. The wandmaker seemed completely absorbed in the measurements he was receiving and, though neither Talia, nor any of the others, had any idea of what the measurements were telling him, they could tell from his expression that it wasn't good news.
"What's wrong?" Phoebe finally asked, concerned.
"Did you say that you two are related?" the old man asked.
"We're first cousins," supplied Wyatt. "Why?"
"Well..." he started, obviously unsure as to how to proceed, "when I measured Mr. Halliwell I noticed an unusual amount of good magic; of positive energy. In measuring you Miss Turner, I cannot help but notice that you have an unusual amount of...dark magic in you. It's just rather unusual to see two people, so closely related, with such a difference in their magic."
The poor man seemed quite perplexed. Telling people that they were literally overflowing with power was very rare, but hardly unpleasant, news. Then again, these were Wiccans, and, taking into account that Wyatt and Talia were the only Wiccans he had ever measured for a wand...for all the old wandmaker knew, they were all, this powerful. No, the amount of magical energy present was definitely impressive, but that wasn't what had the old man furrowing his eyebrows in bewilderment and a little bit of fear. It was the type of magic that the girl possessed that had caused that reaction. The dark energy she exuded seemed almost too powerful to contemplate, and the very thought of what she could do if all that dark energy was put to the use of Evil, was scaring him more than he would ever be willing to admit! But what really confused Mr. Olivander, was that Wyatt had just as much light as Talia had darkness. They were cousins they said. But how could they be, when they seemed to be the extremes of such a wide spectrum?
"Dark magic, huh?" asked Wyatt, obviously amused. "Fancy that!"
"Is that all? You had us worried there for a second, Mr. Olivander," added Talia, purposefully ignoring her uncle Leo who was glaring at her for her obvious laugh at the wandmaker's expense.
Wyatt shared a mischievous look with the brunette that now had a very feline grin on her face. Mr. Olivander couldn't help noticing how sharp her white teeth looked. Perhaps it was his own imagination playing tricks on him, but for a split second, under the dim light of the shop, he could see her for the predator she was; a large cat-like creature, with feline grace and elegance, just as lethal as any tiger or panther. He shook himself and forced his attention back at the task at hand.
"Mahogany, seven and a half inches, with a veela hair core," he remarked.
An hour later, Talia still hadn't found a suitable wand.
"I'm getting a very strange sense of déjà vu," Paige complained. "Does every witch or wizard take as much time as Wyatt and Talia to find a wand?"
"Oh, no," assured Mr. Olivander. "Miss Turner and Mr. Wyatt are definitely exceptions. I've never had to find wands for Wiccans before, though my great grandfather did. We'll find the right wand, I'm sure of it. It's just going to take some time."
"How much time are we talking about, Mr. Olivander? I said it before and I'm going to say it again. We've still got shopping to do! We can't spend the whole day in your shop!" an exasperated Piper said, throwing her hands in the air.
The wandmaker didn't answer. He was busy studying Talia as she placed one more wand on top of the growing pile of rejected wands. The result of her wand waving had been even more destructive than Wyatt's. Between them, the two cousins had all but ruined his shop, but that was not what the old man was thinking. Miss Turner was a challenge and he would find her a wand, if it was the last thing he did! Hadn't he found a wand for her cousin? And hadn't he found a wand for Harry Potter himself?
"Miss Turner, I think I might have just the right wand for you," he turned to the last, shelf still standing, and carefully climbed a shaky ladder to reach the highest floor.
"It better be the right wand," muttered Talia to Wyatt. "I'm really getting sick and tired of waving sticks around and blowing things up."
Wyatt nodded in understanding. He had felt the exact same way a little more than an hour ago.
"Here it is!" said Mr. Olivander triumphantly, before blowing the dust off the box's wooden cover. "Just like my great, great, great grandfather, Alfred, and all the Olivanders in their youth, I too experimented with the creation of...shall we say, unorthodox, wands. I gave up of ever finding an owner for this wand, years ago, but somehow, I think you might be the one." He lifted the lid off the box and offered its contents to Talia.
The young girl couldn't help but admire the glossy finish and reddish tint of the dark wood.
"Is this ebony?" she asked, lifting it out of its cushion.
"You know your woods, young lady," said the old man, pleased. "Precisely thirteen inches," he said proudly, "made of the finest ebony, with a very special core."
Talia looked on with reverent eyes. The wand felt powerful in her hand, almost alive with power.
"Before you wave it," interrupted Mr. Olivander, suddenly sounding nervous, "perhaps it would be best if the rest of us took some precautions. Young Mr. Halliwell, behind that shelf if you will, Mr. Wyatt, kindly take your wife and yourself behind that desk there, and Hagrid and the rest of you lovely ladies, I think it would safer if you stood right there."
Mr. Olivander's preparations were making everyone nervous.
"Do you really think this is necessary, sir?" enquired Leo.
"I don't want to hurt anyone," said a hesitant Talia, even though her fingers were itching to wave the wand around.
"Just a few safety precautions," reassured the wandmaker, though the tone of his voice said differently. "When others tried this wand out in the past, the results tended to be slightly...explosive."
"So what else is new," mumbled Paige. In one of Talia failed attempts, the flowing sleeve of her blouse had caught fire. She was still quite bitter for having one of her favorite pieces of clothing ruined.
"Nothing to worry about, I assure you," Mr. Olivander was still saying from behind the one of the sturdier-looking shelves. "Is everybody in place? Good. Wave away, Miss Turner."
Talia did as she was told to, barely resisting the urge to close her eyes against the explosion she just knew would come.
The explosion never came. Instead, a shower of silver sparks spilled out of the wand's tip in a beautiful display.
"I knew it!" yelled a jovial Mr. Olivander.
"What's the core of this wand, sir?" asked Wyatt, while Talia admired her new wand.
"It is a combination of cores, Mr. Halliwell: dragon heartstring and phoenix feather. My father laughed at me for ever thinking I could combine any two magical cores, never mind such violently contrasting ones, but I just knew that there would be time where the dual nature of this wand would come in handy!"
"Thank you, Mr. Olivander," said a delighted Talia. After the first twenty wands she had wondered if she would ever find a wand of her own.
Phoebe smiled indulgently.
"How much do we owe you, Mr. Olivander?" she asked.
Talia never heard Mr. Olivander's answer. She was too busy looking at her beautiful, brand new, wand. Wyatt slung a friendly arm across her shoulders.
"So we both got our wands, huh? It looks like we'll finally learn how to be wizards!"
Talia grinned, turning to look up at her cousin.
"The wizarding world won't know what hit it!"
They both turned to look at the remains of the wandshop. Gone were the tidy shelves and neatly stacked boxes. Mr. Olivander's desk was now lying on the floor in three separate pieces. The place was almost unrecognizable from what it had been just a few hours ago. The wizarding world wouldn't know what hit it, indeed!