Prologue
He remembered every wand he ever made and sold. He remembered each pair of excited eyes when they got it on the first try and the frustrated determination in the eyes of the child that seemed to take a little longer than normal. For decades, he had one wand tucked away. He had never had a witch or wizard try the wand as it seemed to hide whenever anyone entered the shop, as if it knew itself that it’s owner wasn’t there yet. He would always find it in the spot he left it once the witch or wizard left and casually, Olivander would make joking remarks at the wand.
The bell over his door rang that fateful day and Olivander found himself staring into the most hauntly beautiful pair of deep emerald green eyes. Her hair was as black as the night sky, so black that one could swear it was just the darkest shades of blue and purple. Her skin was pale, as if she had never seen the sun in her life and her voice, in broken English with a Spanish accent, was soft and seemed to speak to his very soul. There had only been one other witch that had claimed Olivander’s attention but that was generations ago and that fiery red hair and golden eyes had belonged to a Queen so betrayed that Olivander was convinced that her own magic had killed her out of pity.
But there was no Queen Catherine of Aragon. Other than that accent and the fact her last name was Castile, little Mikah held a darkness and cold deep inside that could rival the sun and fire of his favourite Queen. To think this child had come from the very lands that had delivered the Spanish Sun made Olivander shiver in anticipation. Catherine had never used her magic in a way that would draw attention to herself but she had used it in protection. Something about little Mikah Castile told Olivander that she would not be someone who would be overlooked and content sitting in the background.
The wand he had made in his grief, using the darkest wood of Gabon Ebony and the darkest core, the threads of a dementor’s cloak, appeared on his desk before he had even moved to take her measurements as he did with all the children. Surprised at the wand's insistence, Olivander opened the box and held it out, letting the child take the wand. Instantly, silver sparks fell from the wand like a waterfall and Olivander stared in shock. A wand like this wanting a child as innocent as her should never have happened but it did and there was no taking the wand back.
“You will do amazing things, Miss Castile. Great, amazing things. Much like the Ancient Queen.”
Mikah simply smiled at Olivander and gently took the box from him once he packed up her wand and handed it back to the girl. “I will never live down her memory.”
As the child left, taking the hand of who he assumed was her mother, Olivander walked to the door and watched the child walk down the Alley. “No child, you most certainly will not.”