Her Mother's Wand

Serah didn’t know much about wands. That’s why she felt very lucky to already have one: her mother’s.
Serah knew that the wand was extremely special. It was a tradition amongst her maternal family to pass down the wand to the first born daughter of each generation. Apparently, Serah was the seventeenth witch to use it.

The Rebane’s Wand was a legend.

After all, how could it not be? It was beautiful. The wand’s body was a snowy white –holly- with silver flower detail carved into the surface. It wasn’t legendary for its beauty, however. It was legendary for the witches who used it and the people who crafted it.

The Rebanes were once famous for crafting wands. They made the most intricate and stunning wands the wizarding community
had ever seen. They were sought after and coveted. But the family knew the wands were not being treated as magical companions and instead, were being put on display. So the Rebanes charmed their wands and destroyed all of them.

Except one: The wand that Serah had in her small, white backpack.

But no one knew that Serah was the heiress to the Rebane Wand. After all, Serah was still a small girl. Her bleach blonde hair was messy and tangled. There was nothing remarkable about her appearance.

That’s why no one expected anything special when the little girl stepped up to the counter at Fabre’s Wands.

“I-I-I need t-to get my wand inspected,” Serah said to the shopkeeper.

The shopkeeper laughed. “We don’t usually offer that service, Miss.”

“My d-d-dad said-d that this was-s a special case,” Serah said, unzipping her backpack and pulling out the white case with the Rebane Seal on the outside.

The shopkeeper’s eyes widened. “This case is priceless! Where ever did you find it?”

Serah shrugged. “It was the box my wand-d came in.”

“Where did you buy your wand?” The shopkeeper asked, inspecting the box, not have even opened the box.

“I didn’t buy it,” Serah answered. “It was given to me.”

“Huh. It’s a genuine Rebane box.”

“I’m paying-g to have y-you ins-spect my wand, not-t inspect the box,” Serah said, a little impatiently.

“Right,” the shopkeeper shook his head, trying to clear it. He gently lifted the lid of the box. His eyes widened when he saw the wand inside. “Ophelie?” he asked. “You’ve got to see this.”

A very aged woman shuffled over to the counter. She was wearing an old sweater with a smock over it. There were reading glasses on top of her head. She shooed the young shopkeeper away from the counter with an arm motion and a grunt. “Hi, young lady,” the woman greeted. How can I help you?”

“My wand-d,” Serah pointed at the open box on the counter

“She’s got the-” the shopkeeper started.

The woman lifted the wand and put her glasses over her eyes. “I never thought I’d see this,” she said in wonder. “And in my shop, of all places.”

The woman picked up a magnifying glass from beside the register and scoped the wand. “Come into my office, dear. I’m Ophelie.”

Serah followed her into her cramped office. It was filled with filing cabinets with labels like, “Feathers,” “Dragon Heartstring,” and “Unicorn Hair”.

Ophelie moved boxes off of her desk. “Sorry for the mess. It gets hectic around here in the fall. I assume you’re off to Beauxbatons?” She pulled out a chair for Serah before going to her own.

Serah nodded.

“An excellent school. I was a Montagnard. What house do you think you’ll be in?”

“I don’t know,” Serah replied.

Ophelie didn’t answer. She was busy scrutinizing the wand. “Your wand is in excellent condition. For a wand this old, I’m surprised that it hasn’t fallen to pieces. It is unyielding, after all. That’s how all Rebanes were. They were made to last. There isn’t anything major that needs to be done.

“So you’re a Rebane, huh?” Ophelie finally asked.

“I’m not-t quite sure what that means,” Serah admitted.

“A Rebane? That’d be your surname, sweetie.”

“N-n-no. I’m Serah Palmer.”
“Christoph’s daughter?” Ophelie asked.

Serah nodded.

“Your mother is Samantha?”

“Yes. How do you know my family?”

“Your families are very influential in the wizarding world,” Ophelie said.

“How? My dad is an artist. That doesn’t make much money, does it?”
Ophelie laughed. “Your father is an excellent artist. He was famous when he was a teenager.”
Serah didn’t respond. She just watched Ophelie shine the silver parts of the wand.

“Your mother was named Samantha. She was born into the Rebane family. I’m the same age as your grandmother. In fact, your grandmother and I went to school together. But that’s a story for a different day.
“So all in all, you are an heiress to the Rebane family.”
Serah nodded again. “S-s-so why’d-d bring me back-k here?”

“Sorry. I forgot to tell you,” Ophelie smacked her head with the palm of her hand. “The Rebane Wand is very famous. I didn’t want to cause a commotion. And the stuff I needed to polish it with is in my office. Try it out,” Ophelie said.
Ophelie offered the wand to Serah. She took it, but didn’t know what exactly to do with it. “Careful, dear. That’s a piece of magic and they tend to be a little temperamental.”

Serah nodded. “Am I supposed to char-r-rm something?

“No, no, no. Not here. You’re not supposed to do magic outside of school. It’s best if you wait. Maybe one of the other students will help you.”

“O-o-okay.”

“Well, Serah, I should probably send you on your way. You have things to buy, right?”


“Y-yeah. How-w much-h do I owe you?” Serah asked pulling her wallet out of her pocket.

“Honey, you don’t have to pay me. I just shined your wand. And besides, I got to touch the most famous wand in the wizarding world. It was worth it.” Ophelie smiled.

“Thank-you, Ophelie. I’ll come back to see you soon,” Serah promised, words finally coming out of her mouth clearly.

“Please do! I can’t wait to see how you grow!”