After

Later that same morning, with the last of the volunteer repair crews out of the Castle, Minerva realised for the ninth time that week that if she were going to go back to teaching, it was essential to replace her wand. She had already admitted her role in the last one’s destruction to Mr. Ollivander, so that part of the process was out of the way at least. She sighed and decided that she might as well get it over with.

She apparated to Diagon Alley, just outside of Ollivander’s wand shop, which was looking rather worse for wear, as most of the street was. Luckily the windows had been replaced, at least and Minerva could see that the shop was thankfully empty besides the proprietor himself, who noticed her and started toward the door. 

She climbed the steps to the front door, which he opened with a wave of his wand. “Ah, Headmistress McGonagall,” He said, by way of greeting. “How lovely.” 

“Hello Garrick,” She said, as the door closed behind her and the sign flipped to read ‘closed’ to any other customers. She gave that a curious look.

He explained, “better not be interrupted by new students during what is almost sure to be a long process.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Minerva agreed, following him further into the shop. 

He summoned a slightly dusty wooden chair and said, “Have a seat, I’ve no doubt we’ll be here a while.” He seemed equally flustered and excited by the idea.

“Well, it’s never easy, is it?” Minerva asking, sitting in the offered chair, “Replacing a wand for someone.”

“Actually,” He said, raising his volume as he disappeared into the shelves, “many people are chosen shockingly quickly, two or three wands at the most, even on replacement wands. You’re the difficult one.”

“Are you telling me that the vast majority of wands in here just don’t like me?” They had had this conversation before, and Minerva knew what he would say but she likes to egg him on.

“They don’t like or dislike, Minerva, as I am sure I have explained to you before. They aren’t capable of forming opinions,” He said as if the suggestion were truly preposterous.

“Either they’re sentient enough to make choices or they’re not, Garrick, which one is it?” Minerva said, purposefully to irritate him.

“You’re far too intelligent to ask such stupid questions,” the wandmaker said, reappearing with a stack of twelve or so wand boxes. “I know you have to be doing it to make fun of me so I won’t dignify it with a response.” 

Minerva smirked and said, “Oh, you’re no fun.” 

“Perhaps not,” He said with a laugh, setting the wands out on the counter. He opened the first box with a flourish and said, “Fir and Dragon Heartstring, ten inches, rather inflexible, not too different from your last one.” He presented the wand to her.

She took it from the box and held it for a moment before she said, “I don’t think so.” 

“Oh, come now, give it a try,” He prodded eagerly.

She attempted to summon a different wand box from the shelf and wound up pulling nearly every box in the general area and rocketing them around the room. 

“No. No. Definitely not,” Ollivander said, quickly taking the wand from her with an exasperated expression. “Dear Merlin, I'm going to be without a shop by the end of this,” He muttered discontentedly as he replaced the wand in the box and put the lid back.

Minerva undid the damage with a wave of her hand. “Have a little faith. Unlike most eleven year olds, I can fix the problems I cause,” She said as the last box slithered back into place.

Ollivander, still flustered, said, “No use in it really, I have a feeling this is going to be a repeat process.” He was right, of course. 

The second wand he handed her (Fir and Dragon Heartstring, eleven inches, relatively pliant) she immediately had a bad feeling about, and when she attempted to cause just a few white sparks to fly from the end it caused a flame that nearly reached the ceiling and which shocked both elderly magicians halfway to heart attacks.

The third (Fir and Dragon Heartstring, twelve inches, supple) magnified the hovering charm Minerva aimed at a box of sample woods and raised three shelves full of supplies and the wandmaker himself to the ceiling. 

After about a dozen apologies from Minerva, (“Galloping Gargoyles, are you alright?”) and a few minutes of recovery for Mr. Ollivander, (“Not the first time I’ve seen the ceiling from that angle, these things happen”) he handed her a fourth wand (Fir and Dragon Heartstring, thirteen inches, springy) that somehow turned a flower summoning charm into a pure stream of pollen that had both of them sneezing.

After clearing the air, wand number five (Fir and Dragon Heartstring, nine inches, limber) made a slight puff of air into a veritable tornado that left them and the shop rather disheveled.

Wands six through twenty (all varying lengths of Fir and Dragon Heartstring) went much the same way and both the Headmistress and the Wandmaker were beginning to lose patience.

“I… I never… this is nearly unprecedented…” Ollivander muttered continually as he replaced the third batch of wands he’d retrieved and came back with a shocked expression “That’s all the Fir and Dragon Heartstring I have.”

“Really?” Minerva asked, he had been so certain that would be her combination, she repaired the burn mark on the ceiling with a wave of her hand and said teasingly, “Well, you’ve gone and done it now, you’ll have to eat that hat afterall.” 

“Oh my. I was so sure that would be right, this throws off everything. You’ve had Fir wands since the first one I sold you. Of course that first one was a Phoenix Feather core…” He trailed off and disappeared into the stacks again. “Fir and Phoenix feather next then.” 

So Minerva exhausted his store of Fir and Phoenix feather wands next. 19 in total and not one that could have been remotely said to have ‘chosen’ Minerva. 

The flustered Wandmaker sat down heavily on a stool beside the main counter with a long sigh. “I can’t understand it.” They both let the silence sit for a moment before Ollivander remembered something rather important. “Ah, but you bought your first wand from my father, it wasn’t Fir, was it?” 

“No, it was Vine and Unicorn hair,” Minerva supplied, somewhat reluctantly. They had been there nearly an hour and a half already and she was beginning to regret burning her last wand.

“Of course you graduated from Vine to Fir, that makes perfect sense…” He said with a shake of his head, clearly thinking something about wandlore that Minerva didn’t care enough to ask about.

She did correct his assumption, “Actually my second wand was Spruce and Dragon Heartstring.”

“Ugh, there goes that theory,” He said with a sigh, then looked at her curiously and shook his head, “Then again, I wouldn’t give you a Spruce wand now if my life depended on it. You and Spruce would be a dangerous combination.” He looked actually frightened by the idea. “But Vine is so… juvenile in spirit and, pardon me, you are not,” He opined, a thoughtful expression falling over him.

“Thank you,” Minerva said sarcastically.

“You’re very welcome,” He returned with equal sarcasm. “I suppose it might be Dragon Heartstring that’s the connection… but you’ve had so many other cores,”

“That’s the most frequent, though,” Minerva argued half-heartedly.

“Well, then it looks like we have to try every single Dragon Heartstring core in the shop,” He sounded far more than just reluctant to do that, but with a sigh proposed, “I suppose we could start with Alder and dragon heartstring and see what happens.”

“Might as well, haven’t got anything better to do,” Minerva replied sarcastically.

“Do you want a wand or not?” He asked dramatically.

Minerva did and she paid dearly in time spent for that wand. the whole supply of Alder and Dragon Heartstring (9), every single wand of Applewood and Dragon Heartstring (18), the full stock of Ash and Dragon Heartstring (22). Both seller and customer were worn thin at that point, but they continued on anyway. 

Aspen(11), a wood that loves good duelists, proved equally ineffectual. Beech (16) which might have worked well as it cleaved to those who were tolerant and experienced was unhelpful. Blackthorn (4) seemed promising to Mr Ollivander for its reputation with warriors but was equally unusable. He almost skipped the 2 Black Walnut as he felt it wouldn’t mesh well with Minerva’s personality, he was right they were both horrendous fits. He considered Cedar (12) as a promising candidate as it responds to those with great perception, loyalty, and strength of character, but it was not so this time. 

He pulled the one Cherry and Dragon Heartstring, a very rare wand indeed, but said to mesh only with those who were exceptionally self disciplined, he wondered hopefully if he had finally found its owner, but it was not so. Chestnut is fond of those who tame magical beasts, or wild magic plants, but also those who are talented in flying, so he tried the two with Dragon Heartstring though his expectations were low, and was proven correct. 

Both he and Minerva were severely lacking in patience now, and it had reached almost tea time, so they broke momentarily to join the crowd at the newly restored tea shop next door. (“Shall we?” Ollivander had asked with an irritated sigh. “Most certainly,” Minerva huffed, fixing her disheveled hair as they left the shop, a task that Garrick did not undertake on himself.)

Back in the shop and with both feeling somewhat refreshed, Cypress was an obvious choice for Minerva, as it attached to the brave and self-sacrificing but there was no such luck with the 13 he had. 

He skipped Dogwood, which was much too juvenile and refused to cast nonverbally, certainly not for Minerva. They both had high expectations for Ebony as it was for those who were committed to their ideals and were particularly useful for Transfiguration, alas none of the 9 they tried were Minerva’s wand. Elm was next, bypassing Elder as there were none in the shop, and though Elm usually went for those of dignity and elegant spell work, which certainly included Minerva, she did not find her wand among those 20. The two English Walnut, which he had great hopes for, failed spectacularly and they both began to give up again. 

They pressed on, Skipping Fir for obvious reasons, and Hawthorn because of its contradictory nature that wouldn’t blend with Minerva’s clear cut sense of direction. Hazel was skipped for its delicate and emotional nature that didn’t blend well with a life filled with the emotional work of dealing with children. Holly, which was said to aid in overcoming emotional outbursts, was skipped for a witch who lived in self restraint. 

Hornbeam (Mr. Ollivander’s own wand wood) was for those with a singular purpose and vision, which suited Minerva well, but alas the 11 wands did not.

Skipping Larch because it was for those who didn’t see their full potential, and Minerva was most certain of hers. They skipped Laurel as it was too fickle and Maple as it was too much in favor of exploration and not good for staying in one place. 

Pear, which is for the resilient, well-respected, and well-liked, did not produce a winner of the 12 they tried. Pine, for the mysterious loner of a master, was dually skipped. He had great expectations of Poplar however, as it was for those of great integrity, strength, and moral vision, but Minerva’s wand was not among the 26 poplar either.

Red oak, for those of sharp wit and sometimes short temper, seemed likely, but the 15 they tried did nothing. Another that seemed likely was Rowan, as it was for those of pure heart and clear mind, but none of those 12 chose Minerva. 

Seers prefer Silver Lime, and Minerva is adamantly not one of those, so it was skipped, along with spruce which Ollivander could not bring himself to hand to Minerva as he wanted to have at least part of a shop when he was done here. Sycamore and Vine were for the young and adventurous and vital, which Minerva claimed not to be, so they could easily skip those. 

All 32 Walnut wands were bust, though they usually cling to those of great intellect and brilliance. 

Finally all that was left were Willow and Yew. Both seemed unlikely to say the least. Willow was for one who had much to learn, who has far to travel in their life’s journey, and Yew was usually attracted to those of less scrupulous nature, though usually protective and powerful. Of the two, Yew seemed to be more likely.

With that in mind he tried the 6 Yew and Dragon Heartstring wands, but to no avail. “I just can’t imagine that we haven’t found one yet,” Ollivander muttered defeatedly. 

Minerva was beyond words by that point and just shrugged slightly and shook her head. 

He decided to go back through those they hadn’t yet tried, starting with the unlikely Willow. There were just 7 left with Dragon Heartstring cores, and Ollivander was not surprised when 1-6 failed to choose Minerva. 

He was then shocked to the last degree when the seventh, Willow and Dragon Heartstring, 12 inches, whippy, a wand that might have suggested youth and some unfounded insecurity, filled the room with golden glow and repaired every scrap of damage their hunt had done thus far in a soft rush of air. That was her wand.

“Curious… Very Curious,” Was all he could think to say as the light faded and Minerva heaved a sigh of relief.