I step foot in Ollivander's

Wand Shop to be fitted for a

wand willing to choose me

as a partner.


After paying Madam Malkin, I folded the robes and placed them in the messenger bag. Rowan took the opportunity to glance out the shop window.

"It's getting late, nearly six o'clock I believe," they noted, turning from the window to look at me. "And you still have to get your wand, right?"

"Right," I replied, closing up the messenger bag to curiously return their gaze. "Do you need to go home right away?"

"Not just yet, but will you be okay going to Ollivander's Wand Shop by yourself? My mum gave me just enough to buy something special for school. I want to let everyone at Hogwarts know that I'm a serious intellectual who is well on their way to possibly becoming Head Mix."

I nearly asked what a Head Mix was, but then it dawned on me. At Hogwarts, there were positions students could be picked for later at Hogwarts that looked good on record. There were prefects chosen as fifth years (and sometimes continuing into their sixth year), of which a boy and girl from each House took on important duties and kept their fellow students in line. Above them were only two seventh years out of all of the student body to be Head Boy or Head Girl.

It was exciting to think that, perhaps, Rowan could be the first to become a third head as Head Mix.

"Go for it," I replied. "I can handle getting my wand. Let's just meet back up with each other one more time before we go home."

"Sounds great… I can't decide what I want, though. What do you think I should get, Jessamyn?" they asked curiously. "I'm torn. A scarf, a sweater, or a hat?"

A scarf, a sweater, or a hat. A sweater would be warm, but until mid to late September they wouldn't really need it. A hat would look pretty cool, but our professors would likely ask them to keep it off while indoors. A scarf, however, though warm around the neck, was a style for someone with wit and cleverness like Rowan.

In the end, I answered, "I could see you wearing a smart scarf."

"Great idea!" they replied eagerly. "Scarves make anyone look scholarly. While I find one, you should get your wand! I'll most likely be done before you, so I'll meet you there."

"Okay."

I walked out into the street, noticing the number of people walking around had dispersed dramatically to where there were a few groups walking together here and there. Yeah, the busy hours for shopping have passed. I hope Mr. Ollivander isn't the type to close early.

Luckily for me, the front door was still propped open when I came up to the shop. When I walked in, I was greeted by a lone desk just a few paces away from the door and a multitude of shelves right behind it that were stacked with individual boxes of wands. The air was humid, yet felt cozy.

I can't believe I'm really in Ollivander's. This is where everyone gets their first wand, I thought as I continued toward the desk. Including Jacob…

I eyed the bell resting on top of the desk next to the dimly lit green lamp and stack of papers at the center, but I had barely reached out to ring it before I heard the sound of wheels rolling across hard wood. Ending with a resounding thwump, a ladder had slid into view at the forefront of the aisle. Holding on at the very center of the rungs was an older man with frizzy brown hair that had already halfway faded into gray.

He smiled at the sight of me, and gingerly stepped down to approach his desk and hold his hand out to shake mine. "Hello… Garrick Ollivander is my name. You must be Jessamyn McPhee."

My hand, midway to his, immediately recoiled back to my side. I had gotten a bit too comfortable with no one knowing who I was for the day. "How did you know that?"

"I remember your brother coming in here as if it were yesterday. Your mother and father, too. You look just like them," he explained, retracting his hand calmly as though it hadn't bothered him in the slightest. "Here to receive your first wand, yes?… Left handed or right handed?"

"Yes sir," I said, feeling slight guilt about not shaking his hand. Mum would be horrified. "I'm right handed."

Ollivander pulled out his own wand and, with a wave, a tape measure floated into view as he walked back through the aisles of wands. I complied with the tape measure's mission, standing still as it recorded my height and holding my arm out when it gently tapped it to see the length. A quill flicked to the ready on the desk, dipping into the bottle of ink that courteously opened itself up before scrawling the measurements in thin writing.

When he came back with a wand box in hand, the tape measure and quill had both finished and laid back down on the table. He momentarily eyed the paper before coming round the desk to personally hand it to me.

"I have just the thing. Applewood wand, dragon heartstring core, nine inches, rigid." He pulled the golden brown wand out of the box and set it in my hand.

I felt the ridges in the wood, actually smelling a slight apple scent. This would be nice…

"Go on. Give it a twirl!" he stated almost impatiently.

"Oh!" I anxiously waved it, hoping for the best. But the papers on Mr. Ollivander's desk went flying in a rampaging cyclone, one of which even smacked me in the face before they all fell innocuously to the floor. I eyed the wand distrustfully for a moment as I handed it back to him, "Sorry about that!"

"It's not your fault," he said understandingly, walking behind the desk once more as he put the wand back in the box and set it on the desk. "The wand chooses the wizard, and that is clearly not the wand for you. I recall your brother exploded my favorite inkpot when we tried his first wand."

"You remember my brother's wand?" I asked incredulously. How many kids must've accidentally exploded something of his, and yet he remembers exactly what Jacob did?

"I remember every wand I've ever sold, Miss McPhee. His was maple wood, dragon heartstring core, ten inches. A fine wand. Shame they snapped it in half when he was expelled."

That's right. They did, didn't they? I thought, my fist clenching slightly. The wand he'd had since he first went to Ollivander's at my age, and they snapped it only because he got expelled. I didn't understand that rule.

We could easily buy a new wand, of course, to learn magic on our own and that'd be that, but Jacob had loved his wand like it was family. He'd once told me that a wand was like a really good friend… it was always with you, and it always had your back. And his wand had had his back through thick and thin. I feared the thought of getting so attached to a wand only for it to… get broken.

"I understand that he ran away from home after being expelled," Mr. Ollivander continued thoughtfully, "and has been missing ever since. That must have had a profound impact on you…" His silvery gray eyes studied me intensely, waiting patiently for my response. Something told me it was some sort of test, but nonetheless I didn't have to think about it. It was something that plagued my thoughts all the time, enough that I already knew what my answer was.

"I just want to restore my family's name — and Jacob's — and prove myself as a great witch. That means more than anything to me right now. And…." I hesitated, thinking more about Jacob's wand. I didn't want anyone to compare me to him, but since it was going to happen anyway… "If I may, can I request to try a maple wand next?"

"Hmm… I appreciate your passion and determination," he said with a pleased nod, walking back to the shelves. "I will fulfill your request, but I believe I may also have just the wand for you if maple doesn't work out…" He soon came back with two wand boxes, and handed me a wand that was light in color like Jacob's had been. "Maple wood, unicorn hair core, twelve inches, unyielding."

I waved it the moment I held it securely in my grip, and became disappointed the moment wand boxes began popping off the shelves to thud soundly against the floor. Ollivander eyed me in interest, as though waiting to see if I'd insist on taking it anyway.

If the wand is what chooses the wizard, then I can't force this. I had hoped for the wand to be maple as a way for me to feel somewhat close to Jacob, but since that was clearly not happening….

I handed the wand back to him with a curt nod. "Guess it wasn't meant to be."

"Not to worry, Miss McPhee, the wand you receive today will only be what's right for you. And I believe I have it here," he said, having already pulled the wand out of its box, and displaying it to me next to his slightly longer wand. The color was beautiful, a shade that was perfectly in between the golden hue of the applewood and the lightness of the maple. A light, bendable piece of wood was elegantly twisted around the wand from the base of the handle to the very center. "Hornbeam wand, dragon heartstring core, eleven inches, inflexible. My own wand is made of hornbeam."

I lightly wrapped my fingers around it, picking it up to hold it comfortably in my grip. Hornbeam felt different between my fingertips. There were what looked like cracks all over it, but yet the wood was smooth to the touch. Not only that, but there was a marked difference between the dullness of holding the applewood and maple wands compared to the strength and security of holding the hornbeam.

With a half-hearted wave, I was overcome with a surge of warm energy flowing around me, along with a fresh breeze that blew my hair back slightly. I felt such a burst of power and energy that I was left to stare incredulously at it.

"Splendid!" Mr. Ollivander declared brightly, taking the wand from my hand and placing it back in the box. "You are one of very few people that I have found a wand in less than ten attempts. Three must be your lucky number."

I awkwardly rubbed the back of my neck as I replied, "But, sir, it would have only been two tries if I hadn't asked to try the maple."

He handed the box back to me with a kind smile, "Your choices are just as important as a wand's. Maple may not have chosen you, but your hope for it showed a certain dedication you feel you owe to someone you love. Every bond attempted is an additional part of knowing what kind of person you are and, frankly my dear, I believe you will do great things.

"As a fellow possessor of hornbeam, though, I must warn you not to let your vision to prove something to others consume you. That becomes what many call an 'obsession,' such as what they call my extensive knowledge on wands. Believe me, I would know."

"I'll keep that in mind, sir," I said with a nod. "Thank you so much."

"I'll be interested to see what path you choose…"


When I left Ollivander's, pulling my wand back out of its wand box to fully admire its qualities, Rowan was already approaching the shop with a scarf looped neatly around their neck. There were bands of multiple shades of colors; including red, green and white. It was colors like those, more than anything, that gave it the look of a Christmas scarf.

"Hey, Jessamyn!" they ecstatically waved me down, rushing over so we both stood in front of the window of Ollivander's. "How do you like my scarf?"

"It… suits you. You'll look like the smartest first-year at Hogwarts," I said.

"It was your suggestion! I'll be coming to you for all of my future fashion advice… Wait!" they pointed out my wand with wide eyes. "Is that a hornbeam wand?!"

"… Yes," I said in surprise, holding it up a bit higher so they could take a closer look. "How did you know?"

"My family's tree farm supplies wood for wands and brooms," they sighed forlornly, giving a small shake of their head. "That's why I love staying inside and reading. It keeps me from going outside and farming. That, and the fact that I don't have any friends…"

My heart immediately reached out to them. Since what happened with Jacob, I had worried that I might not get any friends, but…. "We can be friends…" I shrugged slightly, hoping it hid my desperateness for some companionship.

"You don't think I'm too weird? People usually think I'm too weird." Their eyebrows furrowed thoughtfully.

"People say the same thing about me," I admitted, placing my wand back in its box and putting it safely in the bag.

Their eyebrows seemed to knit even closer together to the point that it looked like there wasn't any space between their brows and eyes. "Why would anyone say that about you?"

Taking a deep breath, I replied. "My brother is Jacob McPhee."

The rate at which the space between their eyebrows and eyes lengthened was almost comical if I wasn't so nervous about how they'd react. "The same Jacob McPhee who was expelled from Hogwarts for breaking school rules in search of the fabled Cursed Vaults?! That was a massive story in the Daily Prophet. Everyone at school will know about that."

"I know. And they'll all think I'm weird," I clasped my hands behind my back and shuffled my feet in wait for the withdrawal of friendship.

But Rowan surprised me with their bright smile of acceptance. "We'll be weird together! I'll gladly be your friend…! Since you're worried about it, what should I do if someone gives you trouble over your brother?"

Hmm…. It was something I hadn't thought over before. I had figured I would likely be alone — either that or be stuck with Ash at my side, but this trip through Diagon Alley had proven otherwise on that note. I had thought, if anything, that I would just have to deal with each negative comment on my own… but…. "Follow my lead. I can stand up for myself, but I'd feel better if I knew you were on my side."

"Understood," Rowan nodded, raising their hand up in a battle-ready fist. "I'll use my extensive vocabulary to verbally pummel anyone who attempts to besmirch your reputation."

That made me give a much needed laugh, and they laughed along with me. "That I have got to see! It would be a fight for the history books!"

From behind me came a familiar voice, "So, Jessie, you can laugh!"

My laughter faltered for a moment, but I decided it wasn't the time to let his sudden appearance sour my mood. I turned around with my smile intact, crossing my arms over my chest. "So, Ash, you finally appear at the very end of the day! Where have you been?"

He wasn't alone. Beside him stood a brown-skinned boy with black hair buzzed incredibly short, a smug smile full of mischief seemingly etched indefinitely on his face. He, like Rowan, also already wore the black school robes… though his seemed to already be torn at the edges and sleeves compared to Rowan's wrinkle free ones.

"I got lost, not that you cared enough to look for me," Ash said, miffed. "Luckily," he gestured to the boy, "He found me and helped with my list. I've got everything I need."

I nodded to the boy, "Thanks for helping him. He might've ended up in Knockturn Alley, otherwise, with his sense of direction." Knockturn Alley was for the more dodgy wizards, those that were into the Dark Arts and whatnot. Mum and dad strictly forbade me from ever going there, despite the fact that there was a street easily leading directly there from Diagon Alley.

"It was no problem at all," the boy replied eloquently, slapping a hand heavily against Ash's back. "He's all right for a yank." He then held a hand out to me, "Name's Billingsley. Ford Billingsley."

Hmm… he's got manners….

While Ash muttered something about wanting to just be called 'American,' I cautiously held my hand out to Ford and shook his. "I'm Jessamyn," I said, pulling my hand back to indicate Rowan. "And this is Rowan. Rowan, that there next to Ford is Ash."

"Pleased to make your acquaintance," Ford nodded, shaking Rowan's hand next.

Rowan shook his hand, but not without asking, "Is there a reason you're so formal?"

"Sorry," he laughed, unperturbed. "It's a habit that's been ingrained into me by my mum. Her family is one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, so I'm forced to be polite and proper at all times. I can't wait to go to Hogwarts so I don't have to be like this for a while."

The Sacred Twenty-Eight was something dad taught me about to prepare me for some of the prejudiced students I might meet at Hogwarts. It was a list of all the families recorded as fully pureblooded witches and wizards by the 1930's somewhere. Most of them believed it was scandalous for anyone from Muggle families — non-magic folk — to even become witches or wizards, let alone marry into any of their families.

I must've had a look of disgust on my face, because he quickly waved his hands back and forth in denial. "It's not like that. My mum's family is actually very open about it, otherwise she wouldn't be with my Muggle-born dad. It's just that they still believe in proper introductions and 'showing you have respect.'"

The last four words of his explanation were obviously very mocking with him bending his fingers to indicate quotes, and his tone of voice becoming nasally. He and Ash gave each other one look, and burst out in fits of laughter.

"Ah, so that's why Ash likes you," I realized. "You've got some humor."

Ford raised his palms up in a half-hearted shrug. "Got to. Can't let life be boring, y'know? Anyways, I'll see you lot when we board the train to Hogwarts." He put two fingers to his forehead in a sort of salute, and started to walk off.

"Billingsley," Rowan interjected with a curious gaze, causing Ford to turn back around. "Who is your mum's family, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Oh, it's the Fawley family," he readily replied, even backwards he was still walking away. "Yeah, I've got nothing to hide. Later you three!"

"Bye," we each said with a wave of our hands — that was a calmness immediately broken by Ash suddenly exclaiming, "Jinx!"

Rowan and I paused to stare at him, lost as to why he'd randomly say such a thing.

"Perfect, you both know the rules already," he said with a large grin.

I glanced at Rowan a moment to be sure I wasn't the only one confused before I asked, "What rules?"

Ash's disappointed groan was so loud, it just about echoed down the cobblestoned street. "Dangit, Jessamyn. We all said 'bye' at the same time, right? The rules of Jinx are that whoever says 'jinx' first wins, and everyone else is unable to talk until the winner frees them!"

"Well, I don't like playing a game I didn't agree to," I said with a frown.

He groaned again, rolling his eyes and starting to walk away. "Whatever. You ready to go? You can bid her farewell."

"It's not 'she.' Rowan's a 'they!'" I said as loudly as I could while he continued to walk.

"Okay!" he replied simply.

I sighed. It was about time to get home. I wondered if my parents remembered that it even was the day for getting my supplies… perhaps they'd ask soon as they got home. I turned to my new friend with a hopeful smile. "I'm glad we met, Rowan. It will be nice to see a friendly face at school." I teasingly elbowed them in their side as I added, "Especially one who knows Hogwarts so well."

"Me too, Jessamyn!" Rowan beamed, wrapping their arms around me in a quick hug. "And thanks for correcting him on my pronouns. It really means a lot to know you'll have my back on that.

"Of course, Rowan, anytime," I nodded, hugging them back just as tightly..

They pulled away, giving me a wave as they ran off, "See you in September on the Hogwarts Express!"