Well, it just occurred to me that, as finals week is nigh, I have about five more days until I won't have internet for three months. I ought to finish this story, eh?

Not mine! Enjoy!

-The Author

"Hermione," said Mrs. Sedgwick as they walked out of the shop, "Would you mind if we got your wand next? I've never seen a wand being bought, and my brothers told me it was the most amazing experience."

How could Hermione say no? What would happen? It was an experience? Was it a Magical experience?

Well, obviously, yes.

At the hot dog wizard's recommendation, they went all the way down to the corner of Knockturn and Diagon, where sat a tiny, vaguely decrepit shop. Unlike all the other shops, there was no sign on top of the building, but on the door. Ollivander's: Maker of fine wands since 382 B.C. The display window was narrow and tall, with a wand in the window lying on a pillow. Hermione stared at it a moment before she and Mrs. Sedgwick went inside. They smiled at each other. Mrs. Sedgwick seemed as excited as she did – very excited.

It was dark inside, and there wasn't anyone around. Somewhere a bell was ringing, but no one seemed to answer it. Hermione and Mrs. Sedgwick looked at each other.

"Is it open?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," said Mrs. Sedgwick. "The door's unlocked…"

"Good afternoon."

They jumped, and looked at the man standing before them; Mr. Ollivander, presumably. He was grey-haired and silver-eyed, and so old that Hermione wondered if the same Ollivander had been making fine wands since 382 B.C.

"Good afternoon," Hermione managed.

Mr. Ollivander circled closer. He seemed to enjoy the effect he was having on his two customers. He kept his eyes on Hermione – they were vaguely wet, perhaps with the effort of not blinking. Why wasn't he blinking? Was there someplace else they could buy a wand?

"I'm Hermione Granger," she said. "I'm here to buy a wand…for school…"

"This is your first time here," said Mr. Ollivander.

"Yes, sir," said Hermione. Mrs. Sedgwick sat down in the chair by the door. Had her clothes been a few shades darker, she might have disappeared into the shadows. Where were the lights in this shop?

"Let's begin," said Mr. Ollivander. He took a measuring tape from his pocket. "Hold out your wand arm," he said.

Hermione decided he must mean her dominant hand. She held out her right arm.

He began measuring.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Ms. Granger," he said. Hermione nodded. The measuring tape went from measuring the length of her arm to the length of shoulder to elbow. "We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons."

"Interesting," said Hermione. She hoped she got a wand with a unicorn hair in it. That sounded like the most pleasant of all the cores. She definitely didn't want one with a dragon heartstring in it. Poor dragon!

The measuring tape poked her arm. She moved it away; it ran the length from her elbow to her knee. It was then she noticed that Mr. Ollivander wasn't there anymore. He had disappeared behind some shelves.

"No two Ollivander wands are the same," he called, "Just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are the same. And of course you'll never get such good results with another wizard's – witch's wand." He appeared around the corner now, bearing several boxes. "That will do," he said, and the measuring tape fell to the floor, looking like a sleeping snake. Hermione took a step back from it. "Try this one," he held out a wand. "Maple and phoenix feather, seven inches, quite whippy."

She waved it. Was she supposed to feel something?

He took it away and held out another one. "Oak and unicorn hair, fourteen inches…"

Still, nothing happened. Perhaps she was supposed to chant something?

"Willow and Unicorn hair, nine inches."

Nothing.

"Cedar and phoenix feather."

Nothing.

"Ah-ha, I think we should try some dragon heartstring, hm?" he asked. She wished he wouldn't. But he held one out anyway. It was dark reddish. It would have been pretty if a dragon hadn't had to die for it. "Mahogany and dragon heartstring, twelve inches exactly," he said. "Light, but powerful. Go on, try it."

She did. It felt warm in her hands, not like the others, and she lifted it up to wave – lights flew up to the ceiling, red and blue and yellow – they crashed into each other and made green and purple. Mrs. Sedgwick gasped and applauded. "Do it again!" she cried. And Hermione did.

"I've just done magic," she said. The effect this had on her – she had just done magic, and it was so easy! – she was silent for several minutes. She couldn't wait to do more.