Morgan winced as McGonagall handed her a course and booklist both of which were written in cursive and in emerald-green ink. "Professor is there a spell that would allow you to translate this into Ancient Greek." Grace looked just as frustrated with the schedule. The witch gave her a perplexed stare but nonetheless pulled out her wand tapping each of the parchments four times.
The letter stopped shifting and much to her relief the familiar symbols showed her what she needed. She would be taking Astronomy, Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, History of Magic, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts which seem the most interesting of the classes as well as Divination and Care of Magical Creatures.
Glancing over at Grace's courses she noticed they were Identical to her's. "Your courses were chosen so your schedule will be near to the same as the boy who you will be protecting."
Hearing this made the whole thing make sense in Morgan's head even if she was still slightly bothered by this world, nothing made any sense, and even if her senses were ringing off the charts. They made their way around the alley buying everything on their lists with one exception.
"We still need to purchase wands," she muttered glancing down at the list again and looking around the street for a particularly odd-looking shop. Not really knowing what she was looking for.
"Ollivander's, there is no better wandmakers than his family who have been making wands of good quality for many years." McGonagall led them to a small shop with peeling gold letters on its sign.
A single wand lay on a purple cushion in the window that they passed as they made their way into the shop. The words Ollivanders Makers of Fine Wands since 382BC, even if it took her a while to read it. McGonagall waiting patiently outside just as she had for all the other shops. The pair made their way inside looking around at the many long and thin boxes stacked all over the shop.
She took in her surroundings even as she saw an old-looking man with rather wild white hair and pale blue eyes come into sight from the back of the shop. "Hello there, how may I assist you, two you seem a few years too old to be only now acquiring your first wands."
"I'm sorry to bother you sir but we do need wands and we were told that your shop was the best place to go to purchase one."
Grace said weaving the sentence as effortlessly as she would a basket the man smiled at her and asked, "very well then, hold out your wand arm if you'd be so kind." She stepped forward holding out her right arm in the same manner as holding a bow while a silver tape measure flew around her, what about this world didn't break the laws of physics, and Ollivander moved throughout the shop pulling down boxes all over the store.
A snap of his fingers had the silver tape crumpling to the floor as he handed her a dark wand seemingly fashioned from, "pine and dragon heartstring, fourteen inches, nice and supple."
She grasped it and quickly waved it upwards feeling rather foolish, until the window shattered and she nearly dropped the wand in surprise. "Definitely not," Ollivander muttered tossing aside a few boxes and pulling out a pale wand that was simple yet had a handle engraved with swirling olive vines.
"Beech and dragon heartstring, twelve inches precisely, quite flexible," a smile spread across her face as she took the wand. Warmth flooding through her fingers as she raised bringing it down in swift and controlled movement. A stream of brilliant smoke gray stars was left in the wand's wake and she knew this was hers. "Excellent and you Ms..."
"Sabers, sir Morgan Sabers." She stepped forward holding out her left hand and this time Ollivander ducked further into the store as he collected boxes.
Morgan wondered what the various woods, cores, lengths, and flexibilities were all about. They clearly meant something as Ollivander had bothered to say each one, and she had always been interested in the making of any kind of weapon.
She had already tried several wands the attempted use of which had resulted in it an exploded staircase and several destroyed shelves. She was thinking of other things, specifically her brother Nico who hadn't been to camp for three months and had refused every form of communication she could think.
"Cherry and Phoenix feather, fifteen and a half inches, unyielding." This snapped her back into the real world as she glanced down at the wand. The reddish-brown wood gleamed in the dim light and the handle was set with two stones, a small scarlet stone, and a larger ebony black stone.
Taking the wand, she ran her thumb over the stones and she grinned as she slashed it downwards leaving a trail of pure black sparks before her. "Wonderful if not an odd combination," this comment piqued her interest but she paid the man for her wand and met McGonagall and Grace outside the shop.
"Ready to meet the boy who lived Chica?" She asked a joking smile on her face as she mockingly pulled a pen out of her pocket and held it out in front of her like her sword. "Don't make me use Anaklusmos, you won't like this Riptide."
Her friend chuckled and McGonagall gave them both a confused stare before Grace said, "you see where we come from our most likely suspect for a so-called 'chosen one' would be our friend Percy Jackson who wields a sword called Riptide the Greek word for which is Anaklusmos."
She smiled and popped in with, "he's my cousin and perhaps the most powerful in the camp but he isn't a terribly good student. That's why you got me." McGonagall just looked sternly down at her and asked them both to take her arm. Shrugging she did so and felt a rather disorienting sensation as they disappeared into darkness.