Aralynn had been stewing ever since she encountered Lucius Malfoy in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. First, she didn't understand why he had spoken to her in such an arrogant manner, and second, she couldn't figure out why he had treated her as though she were someone other than herself. The way he said goodbye wasn't sitting well with her. It clouded her mind and distracted her and kept her from enjoying the beauty of Diagon Alley. They were still walking along, stopping in and out of shops, buying what they needed, and leaving again. Aralynn was still contemplating Lucius Malfoy's words when she bumped into her father. He looked down at her, giving her a wide smile and gestured for her to go inside.

"Where are we?" she asked, looking to the dimly lit, spooky shop. "Dad, I don't think anyone is in there."

"This is Ollivander's Wand Shop," Arthur told her. "The finest witches and wizards have gotten their wands from Ollivander's, including all of us. Charlie sent those galleons, and you need a wand, and there's no better place for you to get one. Go inside."

"I only wanted what was left of them," Aralynn said, looking between her father, and the shop. "Besides, I think it's empty.

"We can manage, Aralynn," Arthur reassured. "It's not empty. Go on, Mr. Ollivander won't hurt you."

"I have to go in by myself?" she asked incredulously, giving the shop a skeptical look.

"Mr. Ollivander doesn't like more than one person inside at a time. He says that it disrupts the process and confuses the wands. I promise, you'll be okay, Aralynn."

Aralynn looked up at her father, then to the shop apprehensively. She took a few steps forward and slowly pushed the creaking door open. An old bell rang from the top of the door, and she walked up to the counter. The door slammed behind her, which caused her to jump, and yelp fearfully. She swung around to stare uneasily at the door. "Calm down, Aralynn," she muttered to herself. "Calm down, there's nothing scary about this shop. It's just old, and dusty, and… musty."

The girl inched forward, looking back and forth nervously. The shop was still and quiet. The air rolling around inside was chilled and littered with dust. The shelves were tall, and some were knocked over. There were long, black boxes resting on the shelves that had fallen on the floor, had turned. The air was stiff, and somewhat suffocating. Though, she supposed the tightening of her throat was caused by her anxiety. Aralynn rubbed her forearm, looking between the shelves, looking for any sign of human life. She felt her skin crawl, which caused coldness to swirl down her spine, and she shivered. The overall feeling of the building was extremely uncomfortable. "Hello?" she whispered, looking between the shelves. "Hello, my name is Aralynn Weasley, and I need a wand."

There was no answer, however, and she wasn't surprised to receive silence in return. Did I not speak loudly enough? she thought. The shop remained eerily quiet and still. There had been no movement outside of her own, and she began to feel even more uncomfortable.

"Hello?" she called again, but louder this time. A few moments after she spoke, a man with wild white hair appeared in a dark doorway behind the counter. The two locked eyes. His eyes were squinted, full of curiosity and wonder, while Aralynn's reflected nervousness and fear.

"Hello, little one," he said softly, but loud enough to be heard. He moved forward slowly, almost gracefully, with his eyes studying her as he did. "You've come for your wand, I presume?" he asked.

Aralynn, paralyzed with fear and unable to speak, nodded several times instead. She watched the man circle her like a vulture examining its prey. Suddenly, he moved forward, and cupped her face in his hands. Her body went still, and she investigated his wide, pale eyes, but he was looking upward—to her forehead. Her hands shook.

The man touched a fingertip to the lightning bolt-shaped scar on her forehead after pushing her bangs aside, and then traced his finger along its shape. "Curious," he muttered, still holding Aralynn's face close to his, "how very curious."

"Sir?" her raspy and dry throat croaked.

"I have been wondering when I would be seeing you in my shop," he answered and released her face as gently as possible. "I have been awaiting your arrival for quite a time, Aralynn. I had expected you to come sooner, but it's no wonder that you've passed here on this day, at this hour."

Aralynn furrowed her eyebrows, not understanding what he meant. She opened her mouth to ask, but her mind suddenly switched courses. "How did you know my name?"

"You're no secret to me," he said, going behind his desk to shuffle through items on the shelves below. "I know exactly who you are, but you may not fully understand that quite yet. That was to be expected."

She watched the top of his wild hair move from behind the counter as he continued to rummage through his things. "I don't understand," she admitted. "What is it that you mean, sir?"

"Ollivander," he corrected. "My name is Garrick Ollivander, and you may call me as such, Aralynn. We will be great friends – you and I."

"I'm sure," she replied quickly. "Mr. Ollivander, what did you mean? That it's no wonder I've come here on this day, on this hour?"

"In time, child," he answered, though not straightforwardly. "You will know in time."

"That doesn't help me now…"

"Why are you here? Ah, yes, of course! Your wand! Come, child, we'll find the perfect wand for you," he said and vanished into the disarray of his shelves. She peeked around the corner, and listened to him toss boxes back and forth, turn over the already turned boxes, open some, close some, and shove them out of his way. "Here," he said as he reappeared. "Try this one. It is a ten-inch acacia wand, and its core is hair from the tail of a unicorn, and it is slightly yielding. A fine wand to have."

Aralynn took the wand as he handed it to her. She held it in her hand, looking down at it dumbfoundedly. "Should I just…?"

"Oh, yes, yes!" Ollivander waved his arms eccentrically, "give it a flick."

She looked down at it skeptically, but gave it a small wave, as instructed. The flick of the wand caused the chandelier hanging from the ceiling to come crashing down to the floor. Aralynn stumbled backwards, staring at the chandelier with horror. "I'm sorry!" she half shouted. "I'm so sorry!"

He gave a hearty laugh. "Not to worry, child. This happens quite often," he reassured and pulled out a wand of his own. He waved it over the mess, and Aralynn watched as the chandelier reformed and reattached itself back to the ceiling. Ollivander watched her face, looked up at the ceiling with her, "extraordinary thing, magic."

"Extraordinary," she agreed.

"Well, this is not the right wand for you," he said as he took it back from her hand. "Worry not, however, we will find you one."

Again, he disappeared into his jungle of shelves. When he returned, he had a new wand in his hand. "This one is eight inches, made of cedar, with a dragon heartstring core, and it is brittle—a fine beginner wand. Perhaps this will be the one, yes?"

"Maybe," she nodded, taking the wand from him. She stood there with the wand in hand and pressed her lips together. She was apprehensive but knew she wouldn't find the right wand without testing them. Nervously, she flicked it, and all the glass in the entire building shattered. She threw her arms over her head to shield herself from the flying shards.

"Definitely not that one!" he exclaimed, waving his wand to put the shop back into its former state. Ollivander took the cedar wand from Aralynn's hand and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He spared a glance back to her forehead before he began to mutter to himself, and once again, went to ravage through his shelves. The girl stood awkwardly, thinking about all the damage that could be caused simply due to an improper wand.

From between the rows, Garrick Ollivander's voice could be heard, moving back and forth. "Ivy? No, definitely not. Walnut isn't right, either, no. Willow, ah, yes, willow, if only she knew… holly, perhaps, if she is… yes, holly may do."

She looked over when Ollivander returned with two different wands. He stared at her expectantly, and she returned the look, as he had been giving her information about the wands this entire time. The man caught on and nodded. "Yes, of course," he said, and then offered the one in his left hand. "This is a twelve-inch wand, made of holly. The core is Veela hair, and it is very flexible."

The girl sighed and took the wand. She swished it around and caused boxes of wands to go soaring across the room. She dropped it immediately and looked back and forth, biting her lip, studying the disarray. She began to question if she would ever find a wand. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ollivander."

"Don't apologize, little miss, it's perfectly alright. The wands must be tested to determine if it is going to work out. You see, the wand chooses the witch, Aralynn, the witch does not choose the wand."

"I see," she said, even though she didn't quite understand. "What's the next one? Maybe it'll be the one?"

"I somehow believe it will be…" he agreed, then handed it to her. "It is a reasonably supple, ten-inch wand, and it is made of willow."

The girl swallowed hard, taking the wand. She held it in her palm and looked down to it. There was a sense of familiarity, but she didn't quite know how. A breeze swirled throughout Ollivander's shop and rolled over Aralynn's body. The current of air brushed her bangs from her forehead and filled her with warmth. She looked up to Garrick Ollivander. "I think it chose me," she told him.

"Now, that," he began, "is curious, indeed."

"I'm sorry—what's curious, again?"

"Wandlore is a tricky thing, little miss, but we've all understood that the wand chooses the wizard, or, in your case, the witch. However, the best results, as we have observed, comes when there is a strong affinity between wand and witch. The two must connect, but for what reason? That's complex for our understandings. You see, I remember every wand I've ever sold Miss… Weasley… and it is curious that this wand would choose you. There is an affinity between you—a past, and a complexity. Some of which, I do understand, but others… That's left for question."

"I'm… not following."

"It is curious that a willow wand would choose you, but even more curious that this wand would choose you with the core it has."

"Which is?"

"A phoenix feather," he replied, "but a very remarkable feather. The feather inside of your wand comes from one phoenix, but why it is curious is because this phoenix gave two others feathers for wands, but only two. It is curious that this wand would choose you when one of its brothers gifted you that scar," he explained as he pointed to the lightning bolt-shaped scar on the girl's forehead.

"My scar?" she reiterated and reached up to touch it. "I don't understand."

"No," he agreed, "I don't suspect you do, but you will. Mark my words, you will understand, Aralynn, someday, and hopefully soon. Even so, understand this: you possess great power, young one—power that we all will see one day."

She stared at him for a long time before looking down to the wand. She had questions—so many questions, but within her heart, she knew she would receive no answers. "Er—how much for the wand?"

"Eight galleons," he replied.

Aralynn fished through her pocket and separated eight coins from what Charlie had given her. She offered the coins to the owner, but he stared at her for a long time. She continued to hold her hand out for him, and soon enough, he took the coins from her palm and smiled as a 'thank you'. Aralynn nodded slowly, thanked him for her wand, and quickly exited the shop. When she was outside, she looked back to it and frowned. How long was she in there? The thought of her being in there to begin with was enough to make her shiver. She turned to see her father and brother still standing there, waiting.

"How was it?" Arthur asked as she approached.

"Strange," she answered honestly.

"Strange?" Ron repeated.

"You have no idea. He was a bit creepy, and a little scary."

"Well, what kind of wand did you get?"

"A ten-inch, reasonably supple wand made of willow with a phoenix feather for a core. He said that it was curious that this wand chose me. He said we have a complex connection, and that I'll understand it soon enough."

"What does that even mean?" Ron questioned, looking confused.

"I have no idea."

Arthur Weasley, having been listening to the conversation, suddenly looked worrisome. He straightened his back and waved to the children. "Come along," he ushered, "we've done most of the shopping, but we still have one more place to go, and that is for Aralynn's pet. So, Little Red, where would you like to go: Magical Menagerie or Eeylops Owl Emporium?"

"A pet?" Aralynn questioned. "But—"

"Consider it a celebratory gift for your first year at Hogwarts," said Arthur with a grin on his face. Then, he repeated, "Magical Menagerie or Eeylops Owl Emporium?"

Aralynn wanted to protest, wanted to tell her father that it was far too expensive, but he seemed all-too excited. Ron, however, didn't. She caught the way his face sunk the moment their father mentioned a pet at all. She didn't want to disappoint Ron further, but she didn't want to disappoint her father, either, so in the end, she chose Eeylops Owl Emporium.

"Eeylops it is," he beamed and led them in that direction.

As they walked, Ron nudged his sister. "Are you okay?" he asked. The concern was genuine, but she could tell that it was also a means of distracting himself from his emotions. "You've seemed a little bit off since you came out of the wand shop."

"I'm fine," she answered. "I've heard a lot of weird things today, that's all."

"What do you mean? How was it weird?"

"It's complicated," Aralynn sighed. "I've had a lot of people treat me like someone I'm not, and I can't say I understand why. It's like they know something about me that I'm missing, which is absurd, but I don't know, it's odd, and making me paranoid. Is there something about myself that I don't know?"

"I doubt it," he shrugged. "They're probably talking about things you don't understand, that's all. You shouldn't let it wig you out. It's probably nothing."

"Yeah, probably," she agreed halfheartedly. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"Well, then, relax. It's fine."

Aralynn nodded, giving him a small smile. When they arrived at Eeylops Owl Emporium, she walked inside with her father and brother, and glanced around. The building was dimly lit and smelled strongly of hay. There was a nonstop chain of chirps as she walked throughout it. Owls rested on perches in cages, some flew overhead. How was she going to pick? Was it possible for her to make a connection with a bird?

She continued to look between cages, studying the wide eyes that watched as she walked by. They were unalarmed to see a human so close to them, but skeptical, nonetheless. Aralynn peered into a dark corner, where she saw the outline of a body sitting on a perch outside of its cage. She leaned forward and two dark eyes peered back. The owl shifted forward slightly. It seemed to be mimicking her actions. "Hello," she said softly. "My name is Aralynn. You're a very beautiful bird. I'm going to this magical school, and I need a pet. That's why I'm here. Maybe you could be the one?"

She couldn't believe she was talking to a bird, but it seemed to understand. It tilted its head as she spoke, and flew off the perch, and onto her shoulder. She looked up to it, and it down to her. "I guess you're willing," she said, carefully making her way to the register.

A female employee looked up from the newspaper in her hands. "Oh, I didn't know anyone was in here," she said. She stood up and looked to the owl on Aralynn's shoulder. "One barn owl," she said to herself as she looked through the pricing pamphlet. "Good luck with her. She's pretty antisocial. She mostly broods in that corner all day and night. We've started to call her 'Incubant,' which is Latin for 'brooding'. You can rename her, of course."

Aralynn looked up to the bird and smiled. "I'm going to call her Amete. It seems like a fitting name, doesn't it?"

"Amete it is," she agreed, "ten galleons."

The girl bit down on her lip, trying to pretend like she hadn't seen her father wince. Though he hadn't had ten actual galleons on hand, he poured some of the coins onto the countertop and added them up until the value was equivalent. Aralynn watched as the woman recounted the money. When she finished, she looked up and nodded. "Right on, you're good to go."

Aralynn gave her a small smile and walked away from the counter. As she was exiting, she heard the employee call out to them with, "'bye, Incubant! I mean—bye, Amete!" Then, she had caught sight of Ron prodding a caged screech owl. "Hey! Don't do that. He'll bite your finger clean off."

Ron smiled sheepishly at the cashier while Aralynn grabbed hold of his collar and dragged him back out of the shop.

Once outside, Arthur smiled at the bird and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "Shall we go home now, Little Red?" he asked, leading his two children down the path. "How would you like to go home: Floo Powder or Apparition?"

"Can we please Apparate?" Aralynn asked excitedly before pausing. "Actually, before we leave, there's one more thing I have to get."

Arthur nodded. "Yes ma'am," he agreed. "Have to figure out where Percy, George, and Fred have gone, anyhow." He then followed Aralynn down the path. She entered the shop, Quality Quidditch Supplies, and remained in there for a short time. When she returned, Ron was shuffling his feet, looking unhappy. The girl smiled to herself and snuck up on him, bestowing a book detailing the entire history of the Chudley Cannons.

Ron lifted his head and noticed the book in her hands. He looked up to her, his face brightened with excitement. "For me?" he asked, almost in disbelief. "Oh, this is brilliant!"

For the first time that day, he spoke 'brilliant' without a trace of sarcasm.

"Of course, it's for you," she told him with a shake of her head. "I promised to buy you something, didn't I?"

"You're the best sister ever!" Ronald Weasley exclaimed, holding the book close to his chest.

As they stood there; Percy, Fred, and George rejoined them from their voyage around Diagon Alley. Arthur looked rather relieved that he wouldn't have to go looking for them. Percy's expression was swollen with annoyance, while Fred and George held mischievous and accomplished smirks.

"How was the exploration, boys?" asked Arthur Weasley.

"Oh, excellent," George answered.

"Completely disaster-free," Fred added.

Percy shook his head as a decline to answer. Clearly, Fred and George were not as innocent as they claimed to be—then again, no one believed their story of tameness to be true.

Arthur shook his head at the boys and gathered everyone and everything together so that they were physically connected in some way. Once it seemed that everything was secure, he began to focus his mind on their home back in Ottery St. Catchpole, and then they felt as though they were contents being stirred in a glass of water. They opened their eyes to see that they were home, in a matter of a few seconds. "Gather your things and start packing," Arthur told him. "Then head to sleep. Hogwarts will be starting soon, and you'll need all the energy you can get."

The redheaded children nodded and began to trudge everything up the stairs. When they reached the top of The Burrow, they began to unpack the items from their parcels, and then repack them in their trunks for their journey to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Aralynn placed Amete in the cage of their family owl, Errol, but left the door open for her to fly freely. She and her brother worked together to pack their trunks and remind one another of anything they may be forgetting. Once they decided they had done enough for one night, they flopped down on their beds and crawled under the blankets to sleep.

Aralynn found that she was unable to sleep and turned towards her brother's back. "Hey, Ron?" she called across the room.

"Hmm?" he grunted in response, curled up on his bed.

"Are you excited to go to Hogwarts?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Do you think it'll be as wonderful as everyone says it is?"

"Yeah," he yawned.

"I don't know," she sighed. "I'm kind of nervous. What if I don't make friends? What if I'm useless with magic?"

"You'll be fine, Ara."

"Ron?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"What if I'm sorted into Slytherin?"

Ron Weasley, however, had fallen asleep in the short time it took her to ask the question. When she heard his soft snoring from the bed, she turned to stare at the orange wall her bed was pushed against. Several different thoughts were running through her mind, leaving her sleepless and worrisome. While she was alone with her thoughts, she recalled the arrogant Lucius Malfoy and his subtle accusations toward her identity—she thought about the ominous Garrick Ollivander, who, too, seemed to be telling her that she was someone other than Aralynn Nicole Weasley. Was she someone other than who she believed herself to be? She began to wonder.