"Now, what are we going to do about my wand? I think I deserve one".
"you sure are. Well, actually maybe there is one wand that can fit you".
Mr Ollivander went in excitedly to the shop's window, grabbed the solitary wand which laid there on a pillow as a model-wand and handed it to Enid.
There was nothing special about the wand. It was brown, thin. But, when she looked closer, there were small engravings along the wand which looked like tree leaves. It was the most beautiful thing Enid has ever seen.
"It was made for my great aunt, Ali" he explained. "She was a squib. We always thought that once she'll have a wand the magic will come out but, it didn't. I think it might fit you; there is some kind of connection between kneazle and squibs. It's a great wand though; Whomping willow tree, a pure white pregnant kneazle whisker, 16 inches, light and leafty.
It's a special wand as you can see, it's unique, a bit like you. Come on then, give it a shot!".
Enid swished the wand. It was a match, no questions.
It was like an hour-long purr. It felt great.
"So I'm exceptional eh? Just like your great aunt, am and always will be".
"I liked my great aunt", said Mr. Ollivander.
"She was a little bit clumsy, but always knew how to tell a good story. Just like you".