GREY WINGS || A Hogwarts Story

Chapter Twenty-Six

Trailing behind the man was another familiar figure. Garrick Ollivander, the wandmaker's son, was only three years older than Grey and had also been in Ravenclaw. He looked surprisingly different now, no longer in blue robes and staggering under the weight of a huge book. His hair was longer but he didn't have dark circles beneath his eyes from hours of studying. Grey had never disliked Garrick, though they certainly hadn't been friends. 

"Is that Miss Willow?" Gervaise exclaimed, finally observing his customers. 

"Mr," Garrick whispered to his father.

But the man only smiled, "My apologies - Mr Willow. What was it, ah yes, silver lime, phoenix feather, twelve and a quarter inches, sturdy flexibility! A particularly rare wand, one of my best, if I recall." He rambled. 

Grey hardly considered the undertones of his response. 

"It broke."

Albus coughed suddenly and Grey could have sworn it was to stifle a laugh. 

"It was snapped," The professor added.

"Ah, Mr Dumbledore, good to see you again. Not snapped from expulsion I hope?"

"No, just some rather unfortunate circumstances," Explained Ablus. 

That was one way to put it. 

"Well, you'll be needing another then, Mr Willow, now let's see."

But the senior Ollivander froze in his scan of the shelves as his eyes passed his son. 

"Hm, perhaps this would be an opportunity for you to practise Garrick if you don't mind, Mr Willow?" Gervaise smiled at him. 

Grey nodded, eyeing Garrick. The young man looked confident as he moved from behind the desk.

"He's been practising," The old wandmaker pointed out with a proud grin. 

Garrick seemed to be in a trance-like state as his fingers brushed the shelves. 

"Remember son, you don't have to get it right first try!"

His encouraging words were ignored. After a few minutes, Garrick stopped and fished a box from the shelf. 

"Fir wood, Thestral tail hair, Thirteen inches, slightly springy," Recited Garrick smoothly as he opened the box and presented the wand to Grey. 

The design was simple but endearing. Its handle was made of small ridges of overlapping wood that resembled a thin fir cone. As Grey took it, a calming warmth filled him to his bones and an involuntary smile rose to his lips. 

"A good match," Observed Gervaise proudly. 

However, Garrick's attention was still fixed intently on Grey. 

"That is the wand of a survivor, Mr Willow," He exclaimed deeply, "You have experienced great suffering, this wand should help you avoid more."

The silence in the shop once he'd uttered those words was unnerving. 

"Uh, thank you, Garrick," Gervaise muttered tensely.

Grey didn't register the passive-aggressive comment - he was gripping the wand like a lifeline. There had been an undeniable sense of honesty in Garrick's tone and this wand felt so much more right than his last ever had. 

"The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Willow," Garrick added darkly. 

Grey dared to meet his eyes. It unsettled him to see the sheen of dissociation in them, so he shuffled closer to his father. Noticing this, Albus wrapped an arm around his shoulder and quickly paid.