Pure

When December rolled around, my parents took me to London to celebrate my birthday and to buy my wand from Ollivander's. Both of their wands were of Gregorovitch's creation, but the Dark Lord's wand was of Ollivander's, so, of course, my parents thought he was the best. I honestly had no opinion about this; I was simply ecstatic about getting a wand.

I'd never been to Diagon Alley before and it truly fascinated me; the architecture in England was very different from home and the people were bold, I'd discovered from The Leaky Cauldron, but friendly. They humored me as I wandered from shop to shop, though Father slipped away to a place called Knockturn Alley after a while.

I found Flourish and Blott's books to be of a good variety, picking myself out a few concerning magical creatures. Mother took me to Twillfit & Tatting's and had me fitted into a nice set of dress robes that were a very light shade of green that she declared made my eyes even prettier than they already were. Father found us then and we stopped to have some ice cream at Florean's when I began to whine.

"I vant to go get my w-wand," I said slowly, working very hard to speak without so thick of a german accent. Phillip had begun to help me a few weeks before, but it was difficult. Father approved, though that was putting it lightly; he had gone out of his way to make sure my first language was english, which he thought more proper, and wanted to be as british as possible while Mother simply thought it was "too cute".

She pursed her lips against a smile, and said, "Oh, alright, Saden."

We came across Ollivander's and I began to have my doubts; it was downright shabby and looked very second hand. Unperturbed, Father led us inside and a bell rang out as we entered. I gasped, letting my mouth hang open. The walls inside were floor to ceiling with thousands of narrow boxes; I knew wands were immensely difficult to make and my opinion of Ollivander rose exceedingly.

"Good afternoon," came a soft voice and we turned to see an old man standing with his hands folded in front of him. "May I help you?"

Father smiled, nodding towards me, "My daughter requires a vand."

"I see. If I may ask, who has made your wands, Mr. and Mrs-?" he trailed off politely.

"von Deitrich. I am Frederick. Zis is my vife, Ceindrych, and my daughter, Saden, and Gregorovitch, of course," he said, and my parents smiled proudly, pulling out their wands. Ollivander took my father's first, turning it between his long, thin fingers.

"Elm, with the core of phoenix feather, twelve inches and rather bendy. I've concluded elm is especially well to use for advanced magic," he said pensively and handed it back. Father exchanged a rather startled look with my mother, whose wand Ollivander was now examining.

"Hazel and dragon heart-string. Nine and three quarter inches. Nice and flexible. A very sensitive wand, yes indeed," he said, and fixed his eyes upon me as Mother took her wand back. "I am certainly curious as to what yours will be."

He pulled out a long tape measure out of his pocket and it began it's measurements, which were very unusual, I thought, as it measured the length between my shoulder and finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to my armpit, around my head, and between my nostrils.

"Yes, I think we shall begin here- that will do," he said and the tape measure dropped at my feet. "Here we are, Ms. Deitrich, Hornbeam and dragon heart-string. Eleven inches. Supple. Just give it a wave."

I waved it confidently, but he took it from me almost at once, pulling another wand out of a box. "And this- Cedar and phoenix feather. Nine and a half inches. Bendy."

Once again, I waved the wand but he took it from me, his face full of curiousity. "No, I suppose not. I wonder... yes, here we are," he said and pulled a wand from a box high in the stack. "Pear and unicorn hair. Ten inches. Unbending."

The second he put it in my hand, a warmth flooded my arm and swept throughout my body. I beamed and swished it in the air, watching as a sort of silver shimmer filled the room. Mother clapped and I'd never seen Father look so proud.

"Very nice, very nice," Ollivander said approvingly and tilted his head as he looked at me. "A very resilient wood, pear is. I think you shall find your wand will perform exceptionally at defensive spells... That will be seven galleons, Mr. von Deitrich."

Father paid and we all left, my parents discussing Ollivander.

"Zat vas incredible," Mother said, now examining her wand with interest. "I had forgotten vat my vand's vood vas."

"I hadn't," he replied. "Lucius and I share zee same vood, but different cores." There was an awkward silence then; Father rarely spoke of Lucius. Mother glanced around, obviously looking for a change of subject, and her eyes rested on me smiling at my wand.

"I vonder vat vonderful magic our little Saden vill perform ven she is older," she said proudly, touching my cheek gently.

"Older? I vant Phillip to start her lessons as soon as vee get home," he said with a wink in my direction. I gasped, my mouth stretching into a wide smile.

"Really?" I asked excitedly and they laughed at my enthusiasm; Father pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

"Anything for you, my Saden."