Chapter 5:
Ollivanders is an ancient shop that has been making fine wands since 382 BC. A single wand sat lonely in the dust-covered window; the gilded sign had flaked away and the shop looked small and shabby compared with the other, more glittering and neatly arranged businesses. It might have seemed as if it were about to close, but everyone in the wizarding world agreed that no one made better wands.
When they entered, a little bell tinkled at the back of the shop. There was nothing but a long bench and, behind the counter, a great cabinet. Thousands of narrow boxes were stacked nearly to the ceiling, thick with dust. Pomona felt a strange melancholy.
"Peter, can a person only have one wand for life?" she asked.
"What?" He was about to sit on the bench and froze at her question.
"Of course," said a gentle voice. A middle-aged man had appeared from behind the shelves. His eyes were very pale and in the dim shop they shone like twin moons.
"Why?" she asked, a little shyly.
"Every Ollivander wand is made with exceptional magical substances — that is its secret. We use unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers and dragon heartstring; each core is unique because there are no two identical unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes. If you use a wand that should belong to someone else you will never get the best results. I think that answers your question."
"But how do you know a wand chosen now will still suit me later?" Pomona fretted. "People change."
"Hmm — I see." The man studied Pomona for a while, then said, "You are of Veela descent, aren't you?"
Pomona felt embarrassed but nodded.
"Wait a moment. Let me think — where did I put it?" Ollivander bustled between the shelves, taking down long boxes, unrolling and rerolling parchment, and at last exclaimed "Aha!" He produced a wand laid on blue velvet.
"Try this one, miss. By the way, your name?"
"Pomona — Pomona Martin."
"Miss Martin, this wand is beech with a Veela hair core, seven inches long and very springy. Try waving it."
Pomona forced a small smile. To wizards, Veela were classed alongside unicorns, dragons and phoenixes as potent magical beings. She picked up the wand and felt a certain power at her fingertips — a warmth like testing the bath water, neither hot nor cold, just right. White smoke flowed from the wand like water and quickly condensed into a white mist that kept changing and then formed a beautiful swan.
Ollivander and Peter were stunned. After a moment Ollivander shouted, "Marvelous, simply marvelous, how extraordinary!"
"What happened, Peter?" Pomona looked bewildered at her companion.
"A Patronus Charm," Peter said in amazement, pointing at the swan circling her. "That's a very advanced piece of magic. When it works it summons a guardian — like a shield against Dementors. It's the first time I've ever seen someone produce one on their very first try."
"This may have something to do with Miss Martin's Veela blood," Ollivander said. "Veela are shape-changing maidens who dwell in forests, lakes, mountains and mist. They can become swans, horses and wolves; when they dance beneath the midsummer moon they make those who love them forget the world. Do you know what happens when Dementors attack, Mr Sprout?"
"You remember me?" Mr Sprout asked.
"Of course I remember you. Ollivander remembers every wand he's sold and their owners. I think it was five years ago you and your grandmother came for a wand — holly, unicorn hair, wasn't it?"
"That's right. If you were still at Hogwarts I'd say add house points," Peter joked. "Dementors make you feel cold — as if you've lost all courage and warmth, left only your most painful memories. They feed on hope and joy. To use the Patronus Charm you must concentrate with all your might on a very happy memory to summon the guardian. What were you thinking of, Pomona?"
"I wasn't thinking of anything," Pomona lied. She was relieved she was Veela enough to need only a hair rather than, say, having a dragon nerve taken to make her wand.
"This wand has been ready for over three hundred years — made by my great-great-great-grandfather," Ollivander said as he returned the wand to its box and wrapped it in brown paper. "I never thought it would sell in my lifetime. Wonderful, simply wonderful."
"Wait," Pomona said. "I want to try another wand."
Ollivander and Peter looked surprised.
"Why? This one suits you, doesn't it?"
"I've only tried one. How do you know there isn't another that suits me better?"
"When you know, you'll know," Ollivander advised. "Even love at first sight can last a lifetime. Trust your feeling, Miss Martin."
"Like an arm," Peter said, rolling up his sleeve. "Original is best — replacing the old with the new doesn't always help, even if it's Merlin's."
Tears pricked Pomona's eyes. Irritated, she turned to Ollivander. "Shouldn't a child be accompanied by an adult when buying a wand?"
It was Ministry rule: young witches and wizards had unstable magic and, combined with unpredictable wands, accidents could happen. Most people, however, paid no heed.
"Yes…"
"Then we'll go. Next time I'll bring an adult, Peter."
"Don't be so girly, Pomona," Peter complained impatiently. "Why do you always make trouble?"
"Oh, for heaven's sake, I am a girl!" Pomona snapped. "You told people to ask who I was — I said I was your date. Do you go on dates with boys?"
Both Peter and Ollivander were taken aback. Peter swore under his breath and reluctantly left with Pomona.
"Wait." Just as Peter's hand touched the door handle, Ollivander handed over the wrapped wand. "Take it. Since the third century BC no one has left Ollivanders empty-handed."
"Thank you." Peter took it before Pomona could speak. "How much do I owe you?"
"No charge." Ollivander smiled with relief. "You've done me a great service."
Both Pomona and Peter found his words odd, but they said nothing; after all, the wizarding world was full of eccentrics.
"I won't use it yet," Pomona warned Peter. "Next time when your mother's off duty I'll come with her."
"Good luck knowing when she'll be free," Peter muttered as he pushed the door open. Outside a crowd had gathered — there were Lily Evans and Snape with his family.
"Hi, Pomona!" Lily called, waving eagerly. Snape turned his stare away with disdain.
Pomona knew her warning would count for little with a brave Gryffindor girl like Lily; their courage often bordered on recklessness. Hufflepuff girls, by contrast, tended to be more sensitive and cautious — one reason the other houses looked down on Hufflepuff.
Gryffindor seeks courage, Ravenclaw seeks wisdom, Slytherin seeks ambition, and Hufflepuff seeks home and love.
Ordinary people do not belong with the exceptional.
Pomona felt inexplicably disheartened. She could not understand why she was so determined to try a second wand when the first one had been so right; she knew stubbornly that she was only making trouble for herself, just as Peter had said, like a foolish girl courting her own misfortune.