London
Ollivander’s Wand Shop had been fixed up since the war. It was still dingy and a total mess, but that had been true of Ollivander’s even before Death Eaters ransacked the place. The man himself was blinking at her owlishly over the counter, looking completely bewildered.
“I’m sorry, Miss Potter, could you repeat that? My hearing’s not what it used to be, I’m afraid.”
Rose cleared her throat and said, “I’d like an apprenticeship with you. I’ve been travelling for the past year, and somewhere along the way I picked up an affinity for wand making. I’ve already made a few wands from scratch, and Master Agarkar in Mumbai thinks I’ve got a lot of potential. He offered me an apprenticeship, but I wanted to be closer to home. Could I apprentice with you, Mr. Ollivander?”
“Right,” muttered Ollivander, eyes ablaze all of a sudden. He marched out from behind the counter and flipped the ‘Open’ sign on the his door to ‘Closed’. “With me, Miss Potter,” he said, walking into a backroom. Rose followed him after only a brief moment of hesitation. The workshop in the back was huge in comparison to the grimy storefront. “Arvind Agarkar is a picky bastard. He’s also known for almost blowing himself up in the workshop with his experiments fairly often. A mad genius, if you will,” he said bluntly, sitting in front of a large worktop and pointing at the seat across from him. “If he offered you an apprenticeship, it means you’re doing weird things with wands.”
“Well, I wouldn’t call it weird, exactly–” started Rose, prepared to defend herself.
“You’re doing weird things with wands,” said Ollivander impatiently. “Show me. I won’t have the Savior of the Wizarding World blowing herself up in my shop if you’re to be my apprentice.” Stunned into silence, Rose reached into her handbag and produced the roll of wands she’d carefully stored her creations in. She untied the knot and rolled them out for him to see – ten wands of her own creation from all over the world, of which two were unlike anything the Wandmaker’s Guild had come across before.
Ollivander was silent for a long time as he examined each wand separately, rolling them between his fingers, sniffing them and peering at them with an enchanted monocle. Rose sat across from him and watched him, coiled tighter than a spring. The waiting was hell. Finally, the old man looked up at her with a tremulous expression.
“Miss Potter, for centuries, this shop has only made wands with three cores: unicorn hair, dragon heartstring and phoenix feather. Do you know why?” Rose shook her head, so he continued. “It is because these cores are loud wand cores. When these cores are compatible with a wand wood, and the resulting wand compatible with a bearer – the magic sings loud. The cores you have used in these wands – boomslang bone, hippogriff feather, kneazle hair – they are remarkably subtle. It takes a very sensitive wandmaker indeed to find the resonances between core and wood, let alone to meld them to sing the same symphony.” He picked up the avocado wand and peered at it. “And that is not even including whatever this wand and the birch wand have inside them.”
“I used unicorn hair in one of them,” she said quietly. “The driftwood wand. I found it snagged on a bush in a forest in Kyoto.”
“You have the raw talent and magic to meld these wands together, but these wands are by no means perfect, Miss Potter,” he said finally, fixing her with a hard look. “Your instinctual magic may have melded the core and wood to force them to work together, but you lack the theoretical understanding of magical flow to make these wands the best they can be. You hear the resonances between wood and core, but you forget that an unsuited lacquer can nullify the power of even the best wand. Instincts are good, but do not forget that you are just at the beginning of this journey.”
Rose nodded hesitantly and said, “I know I have a lot to learn, which is why I am here. Will you take me as an apprentice?”
A long, suffocating silence followed as Ollivander scrutinized her expression.
“Yes,” he said, returning the avocado wand to her storage case. “We will take the apprenticeship oaths next week on Monday. Bring a witness and pick an apprenticeship Mark for then. We start as soon as possible. I believe I do not have a lot of time left in which to teach you all that I know.”
“Thank you, sir,” she said, rolling her wands back up and tucking them in her bag. She bowed slightly and took her leave, Apparating straight to Ron and Hermione’s flat. She’d kept quiet about her forays into wand making when she’d met everyone at the Burrow, unsure about the outcome when approaching Ollivander. Now that he had confirmed that he would teach her, it felt somehow safer to tell her closest friends. It was a Saturday night, which meant that both Ron and Hermione would be at home.
She wanted to tell Kieran first, but he was gone. She’d seen Kieran off the day before at the Portkey Office. After a relaxing holiday season, he had finally gotten another assignment from Gringotts in the Netherlands, which would last about two weeks. She’d cried a little once she’d come back to Grimmauld Place after seeing him off – but nobody had to know that. Rose waited anxiously after ringing their doorbell, shifting her weight from foot to foot as she listened to Ron’s thumping footsteps come closer to the door.
“Rose!” exclaimed Ron happily, opening the door wider to let her in. Rose looked at the interior of the apartment with interest. She had helped them move in together right before she up and left, but they hadn’t had the chance to decorate the space yet. The apartment now looked lived-in, was cozy and had signs of her best friends’ personal styles everywhere. There were bright orange accents everywhere in the room, and every available flat surface had books stacked on top. “What are you doing here?”
“I had some news to share,” said Rose, moving some books off the kitchen chair so she could sit.
“’Mione’s in the shower, but she’ll be out any moment. Want a cuppa?” he asked, not waiting for her answer as he pulled out the kettle.
“Yeah, thanks,” she said, idly drumming her fingers on the tabletop. “How’s everything at the Auror office? We didn’t really get to catch up on Christmas.”
“Everything’s great,” said Ron enthusiastically. “They’ve started to invite me to some of the strategy meetings now, actually! Robards said I had a rare mind for it.”
“Congrats, mate! You’ve always been brilliant at chess, so that makes sense,” she said, grinning. Ron set the cup in front of her and shrugged, even as his ears turned a flattered pink color. “Who’s your partner now?”
“It’s Hawke. Remember him? The guy that looked over our Potions workshop?”
Rose frowned and tried to think back. “Oh! The guy with the eyebrows?” she asked, furrowing her own.
“Yeah, him! He’s a Senior Auror but we work well together. He even had me and ‘Mione over for dinner with his family last month.”
“That’s great, Ron. I’m really happy for you,” she said, taking a sip of tea. “Oh, actually, Kieran’s older brother is an Auror. You might have crossed paths.”
“What’s his name?” asked Ron.
“Alexander Campbell. He works in Homicide.”
“Alexander Campbell…” said Ron, thinking hard. “That rings a bell, but I don’t think I’ve ever met him. Is he one of the good ones?”
“Well, he’s probably my future brother-in-law, so no comment,” drawled Rose, smirking.
“Merlin, you’re actually serious about this bloke, eh?”
“As an Unforgivable,” said Rose bluntly.
“Good,” said Ron firmly. “I liked him, and he makes you happy. You have my blessing.”
“I appreciate it,” said Rose, pleased. The sound of Hermione’s off-key singing became louder as the bedroom door opened and the woman herself walked out, hair wrapped in a towel. She jumped when she saw Rose sitting in her kitchen, but relaxed immediately.
“Rose! What are you doing here?” she asked, giving Rose a damp hug.
“What, I can’t swing by to visit my best friends anymore?” she joked, immediately waving off Ron and Hermione’s protests. “No, the real reason is that I have news to share.” Seeing Hermione’s brow crease with worry, she hastily clarified, “Good news.”
“What is it?” asked Hermione, raising an impatient eyebrow.
“Might be easier to show you,” muttered Rose, reaching into her handbag for her wand case and rolling it out on the table.
“Why do you have so many wands?” asked Ron, frowning. “It’s technically illegal to own a wand that you haven’t registered. I won’t arrest you, mate, but maybe just give me plausible deniability…”
“I made them,” said Rose simply before Hermione could add on. Both of her best friends just stared at her for a moment, mouths hanging open slightly.
“You made them?” squeaked Hermione excitedly, recovering before Ron. She picked up one she’d made in America – fir and kneazle hair – and waved it, gasping in delight as pink sparkles shot out the top. “How did you even do this?”
Rose launched into an explanation of how she’d fallen into it, and finished off with, “So, I spoke to Ollivander today about apprenticing with him, since I have a lot to learn still and I also need a sponsor to get into the Wandmaker’s Guild. He said yes, so I need a witness for the Apprenticeship oaths and I was hoping one of you would do it.”
“That is so cool,” said Ron, awed.
“I can’t believe it,” said Hermione fervently. “Apprenticeship oaths are incredibly traditional. Are you going to get a Mark?”
“Ollivander did say something about me picking an apprenticeship Mark, but I’m not actually sure what that means,” said Rose thoughtfully.
“It’s really interesting, actually! It’s a tattoo that you get for the duration of your apprenticeship to show that you have a Master that you’re studying under. After you’re done you can choose to keep it as a plain tattoo or not, but it’s super important you pick something that speaks to you and your magic!”
“Ollivander is forcing me to get a tattoo?” asked Rose flatly, even as her brain was excitedly throwing up ideas on what to get.
“Temporarily, at least,” said Hermione, still vibrating with excitement. “I can’t believe you went to the MACUSA National Library without me!”
“You’d love it,” said Rose honestly, still contemplating her Mark. “What should I get for the Mark? Can it be anything?”
“As long as it means something to you,” said Ron, who was still methodically waving each of her wands. He waved the only unicorn hair wand in her collection – the one made from driftwood – and gasped as there was a brilliant lightshow of reds and golds from the tip. “This one feels brilliant,” he breathed. “Almost better than my actual wand.”
“It’s not quite finished yet,” said Rose softly. “Once I finish it, it’s all yours if you want it.”
“Really?” asked Ron, surprised.
“Of course,” she said. “It doesn’t work that well for me and I'm not licensed to sell anything yet. Doesn't mean I can't give it away.” Then, eyeing Ron speculatively, she said, "Maybe just keep it as a backup, though."
“How does the wand making process work?” asked Hermione, dragging Rose’s attention back to her. “How do you match the wood to the core?”
Rose grinned fondly at Hermione’s barrage of questions and dutifully answered each one as best as she could. At some point, they ordered takeout and curled up on the sofa as though they were still in the Gryffindor Common Room.
“You never answered my question,” said Rose sleepily.
“What question?” muttered Ron.
“Will you witness my Apprenticeship oaths?”
“I’ll do it,” said Hermione, yawning. “I can get away from the Ministry on Monday mornings.”
“Thank you.”
“Go to sleep, Rose.”
Come Monday, there was a brand new tattoo on her arm – a sprig of delicate, flowering lily-of-the-valley – and she was in the woodshop, ready to take her next step towards the future.