What I'm Looking For...

We stepped through the archway. I twirled around in a circle; just in time to see the bricks of the archway shrink instantly back into a solid wall. I looked around in amazement. The nearest shop had a sign saying; Cauldrons – all sizes – Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver- Self-stirring – collapsible; hanging above it. On the ground outside was a stack of cauldrons with the sun bouncing off them.

My dad kept walking past them and I ran to catch up; still looking every which way. “Don’t I need one of those?” I asked confused.

“I have to get money from Gringotts first. You go look in there” My dad said; pointing at a shop with a hanging sign that read ‘Eeylops Owl Emporium – Tawny, Screech, Barn, Brown and Snowy.’ I was left standing by myself by the door.

I slowly pushed the door open, the bell sending chills down my spine, and started looking at the birds. The shop was quite; even though there were people inside. The birds were all so beautiful and adorable.

I especially liked a dark coloured tawny owl; It had mixture of dark brown, light brown and white. It stared at me through the bars of its cage; its eyes big, black and round. It moved its head from side to side while I whispered to it.

I heard the little bell chime and I looked at the door. Hagrid and Harry walked through the door and started looking at owls. Harry saw me and walked over to me.

“Hello” I said when he was close enough so I didn’t have to shout.

“Hello” He looked at an owl next to the one I’d just been looking at. It was snow white and was quite beautiful. He looked at her in awe.

“Is this...”I said looking around at the owls in the dark shop. “All new to you, too?” I was really hoping I wouldn’t have to be alone, and looked back at the bird; which had now tucked its head under its wing.

“Yeah. I was only told yesterday that I was a wizard” He said shyly; but smiled at me.
“Same” I beamed at him. “I don’t know what any of this stuff is. All the words; I don’t think I’ll do very well in school to be honest”

“Neither do I. All I know is that at Hogwarts there are four houses and there’s a game called Quidditch.”

We smiled at each other and talked, until my dad walked through the door and he and Hagrid joined us.

“Have you seen one you like, Corey?” My dad asked me; while Hagrid picked up the cage with the snowy white bird in it and took it to the counter. I turned around and grabbed onto the cage with one of my hands.

“This one. He’s gorgeous” I turned around and looked at my dad “Pretty, pretty please can I get him? Pretty, pretty please with a cherry on top?”

“I hate cherries...” My dad said before smiling and walking to the cage “I do like him... Sure, why not. I’ve already got your books and robes, all you need is your wand.”

We bought the owl and went to the wand shop with Hagrid and Harry. In the window of Ollivanders (Makers of fine wands since 382 BC.) a single wand lay on a faded purple cushion. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop; like most others, as they walked in.

The shop was tiny; there was a single spindly chair which Hagrid sat on. Everyone was dead silent as we waited for the shop keeper. There were thousands of tiny boxes piled right up to the ceiling.

“Good afternoon” said a soft voice. Everyone jumped; there was a loud crunching noise and Hagrid got of the spindly chair quickly. An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop.

“Hello” Harry said awkwardly.

“Ah yes,” Said the man. “Yes, yes. I thought I’d be seeing you soon. Harry Potter.” It wasn’t a question. “You have your mother’s eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.”

Mr Ollivander moved closer to Harry, while the rest of us stood quietly behind him.
“Your father, on the other hand, favoured a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favoured it – it’s really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course”

He had come so close to Harry that they were almost nose to nose.

“And that’s where...” Mr Ollivander touched Harry’s forehead with a long, white finger. “I’m sorry to say I sold the wand that did it” he said softly “Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... Well, if I’d known what that wand was going out into the world to do...”

He shook his head before noticing the three of us standing behind Harry.
“Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn’t it?”

“It was, sir, yes” Said Hagrid

“Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?” said Mr Ollivander, suddenly stern.

“Er – yes, they did, yes,” Said Hagrid shuffling his feet. “I’ve still got the pieces, though” he added brightly.

“But you don’t use them?” Said Mr Ollivander sharply.

“Oh, no, sir” Said Hagrid quickly. I watched as his hand gripped his pink umbrella very tightly. Mr Ollivander turned his gaze to my father.

“Jerry! Jerry Samuels! Fourteen and a third inches. Lacewood. Great wand that one”

My dad pulled out his wand and handed it to Mr Ollivander, who looked at it, before smiling.

“A great wand indeed” He handed the wand back to my dad, before turning back to Harry.
“Well, no –Mr Potter. Let me see.” He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. “Which is your wand arm?”

“Er – well, I’m right-handed” Said Harry.

“Hold out your arm. That’s it” He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to flour, knee to armpit and around his head. As he measured, he said “Every Ollivander wand has a core of a magical substance, Mr Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no to unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard’s wand.”

The tape measure flew around Harry while Mr Ollivander started pulling down boxes. “That will do” he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. “Right then, Mr Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave.”

Harry picked up the wand and I watched as he hesitated before waving the wand around a bit, but Mr Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost instantly.

“Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite Whippy. Try—“

Harry tried again; but before he had even raised the wan, it too was snatched back.
“No, no – here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, try it out”
As Harry tried more and more wands; I started to get bored. More and more boxes of wands that had been tried joined the pile.

“Tricky customer, eh?” I heard Mr Ollivander say after about half an hour or so. “Not to worry, we’ll find the perfect match here somewhere – I wonder, now – yes, why not –unusual combination – holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.”

I watch half asleep as harry raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing through the dusty air and a steam of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on the walls; waking me up.

“Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious...” He put Harry’s wand back into its box and wrapped it in brown paper, still muttering “Curious... curious...”

“Sorry” Said Harry “but, what’s curious?”Mr Ollivander fixed Harry with a pale stare.
“I remember every wand I’ve ever sold, Mr Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother – why, it’s brother gave you that scar.”

The room went quite for a second before Ollivander continued.
“Yes, thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great”

I saw Harry shiver as I walked over to stand beside him. He paid seven gold coins, which weren’t from the streets of London, for his wand and both he and Hagrid left after saying goodbye. Mr Ollivander turned to me.

“Now, who do we have here?”

“Corey Samuels, sir” I said, giving him a polite smile.

“Mmm... what’s your wand hand, Miss Samuels?” His eyes looked me over; trying to figure something out.

“My right hand, sir” He nodded his head and started measuring me. Well he told the tape measure to measure me while he got boxes of wands. I lined three up in a row and told the tape to stop.

I walked over to the counter looking at the boxes; one was purple, one was white and the other was red. I looked up to Mr Ollivander.

“Well go on, Miss Samuels, pick a box” his hand gestured to the boxes lined up in-between us.

“The red one, please” I said; looking at the pattern on the side of the box. It was spirally and twisted around. Not like the white box, which I didn’t want to touch; fearing I’d leave a mark on it; or the purple which had faded writing and numbers on it.

“Wenge and dragon heartstring, eight inches, quite firm; give it a wave.”
I hesitated but did as I was told; raising the wand above my head feeling stupid. When nothing happened I gave it back to Mr Ollivander.

“Never mind, pick another one”

“The purple one please, sir” I was still scared I was going to leave smudges on the white box.

“Purpleheart and unicorn hair, twelve inches, springy. Quite powerful.”

I raised the wand over my head, and let it swoosh down, sending dust swirling everywhere. Purple and silver sparks came flying out of my wand, just like Harry’s had. I beamed as I gave it back to Mr Ollivander who put it back in its box and wrapped it in brown paper.
“Very good, very good. You will be a great witch one day, Miss Samuels” he said while handing me the box. My dad paid and we left the shop.

We carried my school things through the leaky cauldron, which was now totally empty, and to our car. We put my books, robes and wand in the back, but kept my owl in the front. As we drove home in the late afternoon sun; we thought of a name for my owl.

“How about Dionysos?” My dad suggested “He was the Greek god of parties and festivals, civilization and pleasure at forever young.”

“Mmm I don’t know it doesn’t really suit him” I said, staring at his big back eyes.
“Well, maybe Aether? God of the upper air and light? Seeing as he is an owl.” My dad studies Greek things for a living; it sort of gets annoying at times like these.

“What about Calandra. It sound pretty; and it’s Greek for signing bird.” I said the last bit without even realising it. My dad gave me a shocked expression, but smiled.

“Very good, Corey. But Calandra is a female name”

“I don’t care. It’s not like he will. I like Calandra, and Calandra it is”