Wand and the Witch

Harley had been having a good day. She had annoyed a couple people, made new friends, and gotten a beautiful cat. All that was left was to get her books and wand, and Elijah had promised to meet up with her at Jaded Pages. She popped into Fabre's Wand and called out, "Hello?" Nobody responded so she was about to shut the door, when a woman came tumbling out of the back room sputtering, "Merlin's beard! I didn't hear you with all the commotion back there!" Harley couldn't hear anything, but she shrugged. "I would like to be fitted for a wand, please, " she stated. The woman looked confused for a second before smiling. "Yes! Of course!"

She started shuffling along, puling out a quill, a piece of parchment, and a measuring tape. She started measuring her from fingertip to wrist, wrist to elbow, then elbow to armpit, writing them down as she measured them. She then inspected Harley, before lighting up with a smile. She shuffled along the wall filled with drawers containing boxes of wands, and opened one close to the bottom. "Blackthorn, eleven inches, with a Kneazle whisker core, and springy."

As soon as Harley gripped the wand, it felt wrong. She felt like throwing it down on the floor, but the uncomfortable feeling shifted to her hand and sprouted through the wand, hitting a candle and making it topple over. The next four tries were much like that, all with a wrong feeling to it. It was her sixth try that gave her hope. "Hazel, dragon heartstring core, twelve-and-a-half inches and unyielding," Mrs. Knobbs said. She took the wand, and as soon and her fingers wrapped around the grip, a warm feeling rushed throughout her body. "This is it," she smiled.