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o.o.O.o.o
“What’s next, mum?” An earnest pair of dark brown eyes looked up from under wild black curls.
“Look at your list, Portia,” Hermione reminded her daughter for the hundredth time. In an effort to teach her daughter to be more independent, she was allowing Portia to direct the shopping trip today for her school supplies.
“I still need my wand, my robes should be ready at Madam Malkin’s soon, and Dad did promised I could get an owl.” Portia’s face set into a thoughtful scowl as she looked up and down the alley. “Let’s go to Ollivander’s first, then pick up my robes and finish at Eyelops?”
“That sounds like an excellent plan,” Hermione agreed and walked with her little girl towards the wand shop. The issue of a familiar had been debated hotly since the arrival of her Hogwarts letter. The final decision had been that an owl was simply more practical, and Hermione had conceded the point.
The little bell over the doorway rang out, alerting old Ollivander to their presence. She let Portia walk forwards, allowing her daughter to face this very important moment on her own. There was a shuffle of steps as Garrick Ollivander appeared from behind a precarious looking stack of wand boxes.
“Ah, Miss Nott…I was wondering when I’d be seeing you. It seems only yesterday that your mother and father were in here buying their first wands. Your mother had a beautiful vinewood and dragon heartstring wand, but of course she favours her new blackthorn wand now.” He grinned at Hermione, remembering the full afternoon it had taken to find that new wand for her after the end of the war. “And your father’s ebony and phoenix feather wand, truly exceptional for duelling. But, we’re not here to reminisce about your parents are we, young Portia?” He chuckled and a flick of his wrist brought a magical tape measure floating over, taking all sorts of bizarre measurements.
Portia giggled as the tape measure tickled a little. “What kind of wand do you think I’ll get, Mr. Ollivander?”
“I don’t know, the wand chooses the witch after all, but let’s try this one first shall we?” He grabbed a box seemingly at random, opening it and offering the pale, honey coloured wand to her. “Beech and unicorn tail hair.”
Portia picked it up and frowned, the wand belching black smoke when she flicked it.
“Definitely not…hmmm.” Ollivander scurried off. After about six different tries, he came forward with a black wand box. “Perhaps this will be more on the mark.”
Portia slipped her hand under the inky, black wand. It was simply carved, with a funny little natural bend in the shaft that felt wonderful in her hand. She could feel the power flowing off of it and into her very bones. She flicked it and silver sparks fluttered through the air around them. “Mum! This one is perfect!”
Hermione smiled warmly. “Well done, darling.”
“Ebony and dragon heartstring, eleven inches and quite supple. I sense a gift for duelling or perhaps advanced transfiguration in your future, my dear. That will be seven galleons please,” he said, flicking his eyes to Hermione.
“Thank you, Garrick. Will you be joining us for dinner this Saturday?” she asked as she handed him the galleons. There was a dinner planned for surviving members of the Order and their friends, and Ollivander was a long standing attendee to the annual gathering.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Will your husband be joining us this year?” he enquired.
“If I can pry him out of the lab, he’s quite close to a breakthrough on his latest project.” She smiled fondly. “But I should go, Portia and I have a few more errands to run in the Alley today.”
“Goodbye, Mr. Ollivander!” Portia waved as they headed out of the shop. She was fairly bouncing as they stopped to gather her robes from Madam Malkin’s, and then they crossed over to Eyelop’s Owl Emporium. They were nearly there when Portia let out a shriek of delight and ran forward, getting scooped up in her father’s arms.
“Theo…what are you doing here?” Hermione laughed as he playfully twirled their daughter before setting her down.
“I finished up in the lab early.” He leaned over and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I thought I could surprise my girls, and maybe whisk them off to dinner out tonight?”
“That sounds wonderful, but first I believe you need to help Portia choose her owl.” A mischievous smile crossed her lips, knowing just how much Theo detested shopping of any description. It had certainly been his intent to swoop in at the end of the day and miss out on all the various shops, but this one was all his.
Theo looked a bit like he’d bitten into a lemon, but nodded. “Well…this calls for an expert. Come along sweetheart, let’s find you the perfect owl.” Hand in hand, father and daughter headed into the store to find her the right familiar.
~Fin~