(I know this is really long and REALLY pumpkin, I was bored)
A lot of dizziness, crackling and blurred images of fireplaces later; Harley’s feet hit the floor hard. He buckled and held his arms out to steady himself. He followed the signs directing him to the shop floor.
Mr Olivander was polishing a very shiny black wand behind the counter as Harley entered from the side. He looked up from knowing eyes, the wrinkles in his face deepened when he smiled. “You must be Harlow Johnson”
Harley nodded, pulling out his ancient wand as he approached the counter. He lay it on the wooden surface. Feeling the wand makers eyes on him, he took his time to look up and meet his gaze. “Yes. My wa-“
“I know why you’re here Mr Johnson. My… this is quite a relic isn’t it?” He says with an air of delight as he picks up Harley’s wand and examines it. “You have never owned your own?”
“No sir. It was my Grandfathers; he died when I was young. I’d always loved this wand in particular. So when the time came, father said I could have it. Saved him a few Galleons any way.”
Olivander gave a small smile but Harley almost kicked himself. Hopefully the old man wouldn’t take his comment as Harley thinking his wands weren’t worth the money. But then again; Harlow had the tendency to look into things he said way too much.
“Yes” Continued the wand maker, returning the wand to the wooden surface. “It is indeed a fine wand. In fact, I made it myself. Let me see… George Johnson. Ash and Unicorn Hair, Thirteen inches, Hard. Incredibly reliable yet not so powerful. This one has had its fair bit of use.”
Harlow looked surprised. How could one remember so much? “Spot on” He said, impressed.
The wand maker was already shuffling away and off down one of the isles laden with boxes upon boxes of wands. His voice drifted through the shop. “A very stable wand, that one is. Very sad. I understand that you wish for a wand of your own. One in better shape, at least. I think… yes, this one.” He climbs down with a long box in hand then pushes it across the counter to Harley after he’d scrambled down and towards.
Harley had never been to a wand shop before. Strange really. Considering almost everyone in Hogwarts had been here. He’d heard their stories. How they knew straight away that that was their wand, just upon holding it. He took the wand out of the box carefully. At first it felt strange. He’d only ever been used to one. But a warmth spread through his wand arm, it was like a familiar friend had returned.
A swirl of blue mist was protruding from the tip in a tornado-like style, winding its way upwards in various and constantly changing shades. It was almost touching the ceiling when it burst into a shower of sparks and rained down upon him. This was it.
“Elder and Phoenix Feather, Fourteen and a Half inches, Unyielding” Said Olivander, a faint smile crossing his face. “Good luck”
“How did you know? It was the first one you chose…” Harley said, placing the wand back in its box, ready to be paid for. He didn’t even know wands could be made out of elder. Suddenly, an old saying his father had once said drifted to the front of his mind ‘wand of elder, never prosper’.
“The wand chooses the wizard. I thought you would know that Mr Johnson. But the wand maker knows his wands. And this old wand…” He gestured to Harlow’s Grandfather’s wand with a sweep of his hands. Olivander then picked it up and placed it next to the new, much more handsome one. “Is tired and has lost a loyal friend.”
Harley said nothing more. How could he feel guilty about a battered up piece of wood? He paid and took the box containing the pair of wands. “Thank you Sir.”
He made it back with time to spare then started towards the dorms, flicking a little quaffle off his robes, to start research on his new wand in hope that this elder wasn’t going to ruin his life. Okay, maybe a little dramatic.
“Good luck” Harley said to amuse himself, copying the way the wise wand maker had said it.
Subject: 'Wand of Elder, never prosper' 
Tue Aug 14, 2012 5:47 am
