Going Through the Motions

The bell over the shop door tinkled as Mr Ollivander entered. He rubbed his hands together in an effort to warm them; these February mornings certainly were cold. “Lumos,” he muttered, making his way to the back room to start the teakettle boiling.

While the water heated up, Mr Ollivander pulled out several sheets of parchment, a quill and some black ink. He noticed that he was down to his last quill and made a mental note to stop by Flourish and Blott’s in the afternoon. He decided it would also be a good opportunity to pick up a gift for his granddaughter. While she was the delight and joy of his life, he was often saddened that he had no other grandchildren. He and his wife had been blessed with a daughter very late in life and she had only one child before her premature death. He absently played with his wedding band. It had been ninety-two years since he had received it and he had yet to take it off. He thought of his lovely bride and how she had died shortly after their daughter. Mr Ollivander found himself very much alone. The teakettle whistled, pulling him from his lonely thoughts.

He poured the boiling water into a fine bone china cup. It was a pattern that his wife, Daphne, had picked out years ago. Mr Ollivander sighed as he sat in the plush purple chair. While he sipped his Earl Grey tea, he began the day’s correspondence.


Dear Albus,

As per your request, I have a list of the specifications of each of the escaped Death Eater’s wands. I shall give it to Rubeus or yourself at our next meeting. The Ministry sent me letters years ago confirming that they had destroyed said wands, however, as a certain pink umbrella makes quite apparent, that is not to say that they actually are no longer in use. I have sent letters of warning to the other wand makers that I am familiar with, detailing which wand types they should be hesitant to sell. I have not received replies as of yet, but have asked them to contact you should anyone attempt to buy such a wand. If there is anything else I can help you with, please do not hesitate to ask.

Sincerely,

Silvanus Ollivander


He carefully rolled up the parchment and tied it with a purple ribbon and then began his second letter.


Dear Rubeus,

I hope this letter finds you well. I will soon be in need of procuring some unicorn tail hair and would greatly appreciate your assistance. I understand that you are quite busy with your many responsibilities at Hogwarts, however if you could spare some time for me in the next fortnight I would be very grateful. Please let me know as soon as possible.

Sincerely,

Silvanus Ollivander


After rolling up the second letter and tying it too with a purple ribbon, Mr Ollivander called one of his owls, Snidget, over. He gently tied the letters to her leg, instructing her to take them to Hogwarts and which letter was to go to whom. Then, after giving her an Owl Treat, he sent Snidget on her way.

Mr Ollivander proceeded to the shop’s basement, which was in fact his workroom. He really didn’t expect any customers since it was February. The vast majority of his customers were eleven year olds eager for their first year at Hogwarts or Beauxbatons. These children usually came in the summer months. Apparently, most parents generally thought it wiser to wait until just before school began to let their child have a wand. The rest of his customers typically were people who had accidentally damaged their wand or in some cases a witch or wizard who’d finally realized that their inherited wand just wasn’t the right wand for them. He also regularly exported wands to one of his cousins in Canada. Jasper Ollivander often sent Silvanus excellent specimens of redwood and maple wand wood. Jasper had never been very gifted at creating wands but he had a knack for matching a wand to its owner. Silvanus had gone through nearly a hundred wands for some customers but Jasper seldom needed more than three. Still, Silvanus greatly enjoyed the challenge of matching a wand and wizard.

However, his shop was so busy in July and August that he rarely had an opportunity to actually make any wands during those months and he certainly didn’t have the time to run off all over Europe to get the wands’ supplies.

Silvanus fondly remembered his daughter, Helen, asking why he had to go all the way to Romania. He had patiently explained to her that he always inspected his wand cores personally, that way he would know how many wands an individual core had been given to. Helen had looked at him sagely and asked, “May I come with you, Daddy?”

That had been one of the best family trips that he, Daphne, and Helen had taken together. Silvanus kept a photograph of the three of them on his desk in the back room. Helen had been immensely interested how no individual dragon’s heartstring was ever used in more than three wands. He was amazed at how well his seven-year-old daughter had grasped the idea of how brother wands worked, although she did insist on calling them sister wands. He had hoped then and for many years thereafter that she would be his apprentice.

Alas, he now had no apprentice, although Helen’s daughter had begun to show an interest in his work. Until she was done Hogwarts, he’d continue making all the wands himself.

Today he chose cherry and one of his few remaining unicorn hairs, willow and Antipodean heartstring, rowan and phoenix feather as well as birch and Swedish short-snout heartstring.

He tenderly laid each core on top of its wand wood and chanted the old spell to bind one within the other. This was wandless magic, however it required a certain hand movement over the wand as it was made. The chant took nearly a half hour and each wand had to be done individually, one missed syllable or wrong movement could mean the difference between a wand and a stick. Wand making was not a task for those without patience. Silvanus had created many sticks in his time, however after years of practice, he nearly always crafted a wand of the highest quality.

After the wands were made, Mr Ollivander carefully polished them and weighed them. He took the slip of paper from his wand weigher and placed it and the wand lovingly into a velvet-lined box.

Mr Ollivander did a quick inventory and realized that besides unicorn tail hair, he was also getting low on beech, mahogany and oak wand woods.

He then checked his pocket-watch and decided that it was time for lunch. He went upstairs and put on his cloak, then made his way towards the Leaky Cauldron. Mr Ollivander walked rather quickly past Madam Malkin’s shop and into his regular booth at the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn’t long before Florean joined him.

Silvanus nodded to him in greeting. Florean was a good friend, Silvanus and Daphne used to have him over to dinner most Sunday evenings. Now the two friends would meet for lunch most days and discuss different topics of interest over a Butterbeer. Today they chatted about the goblin rebellions of the seventeenth century while enjoying their shepherd’s pie.

After a half hour, Silvanus excused himself and stopped in at Flourish and Blott’s where he bought himself a few practical quills and some brightly coloured ones for his granddaughter. He also decided to buy her a book on unicorns written by Havelock Sweeting. Silvanus had a first edition copy on his bookshelf in the back room and his granddaughter had taken an interest in it over the Christmas holidays.

Silvanus then went back to his shop and checked to see if he’d received any mail. His great horned owl, Grimfeather, had returned from Romania. A barn owl was sitting next to Grimfeather with a note tied to his leg. Mr Ollivander also noticed that the Daily Prophet and the Quibbler had arrived. He had strongly considered cancelling his subscription to the Daily Prophet, however, he decided that he’d rather know what was in the news, however distorted it was. Silvanus also noted with delight, a pale purple envelope that had been dropped off on his desk. He immediately recognized the flowing script but decided to set the letter aside for now, in order to give himself something to look forward to that evening.

In the meantime, he opened the business letter that the barn owl had brought. As expected, it was a letter from the MacFusty clan, explaining that one of their Hebridean Blacks had died of natural causes, not related to heart disease. The letter went on to extend an offer to Mr Ollivander to collect some of the heartstring the following morning, in the Hebrides. Mr Ollivander quickly wrote a letter of acceptance and sent it back with the barn owl, giving him a couple of Owl Treats to make up for having another long journey. Silvanus then wrote several letters to procure more wand wood in mahogany, beech and oak. Just as he’d sent the letters off with his third and youngest owl, Nightingale, the shop bell rang.

Mr Ollivander went out to greet one of his favourite and most frequent customers. “Nymphadora Tonks, I believe the last one was maple and unicorn hair?”

Tonks smiled ruefully. “Yes, it was, until I fell down a staircase while holding it out in front of me.”

“I hope you weren’t hurt,” added Mr Ollivander with a note of concern in his voice.

Tonks flashed him a quick grin. “No, but I’m afraid my wand was. I decided it was probably best to get a new one, rather than try and repair it.”

“Yes, well Aurors do need to keep their wands in the best of condition,” agreed Mr Ollivander. He fixed her with a piercing stare. “You do polish them regularly, correct?”

“Once a week, sir,” Tonks answered brightly.

Mr Ollivander nodded. “Good. Perhaps we should try oak this time, after all it’s a fairly durable wood. You know Miss Tonks, sometimes I’m amazed that I have a wand left that’s brave enough to choose you.”

Tonks laughed good-naturedly. “Well, I wouldn’t want a cowardly one.”

Half an hour later, Tonks left with her new oak and phoenix feather wand. Mr Ollivander checked his watch and realized that it was nearly two and thus time to set his teakettle boiling again.

Like clockwork, the shop door jingled. This time Mr Ollivander didn’t bother to see who it was; there was only one person who regularly visited his shop at exactly two o’clock.

“Silvanus, dear, I brought over some biscuits,” called out a short witch in very tasteful violet robes.

Mr Ollivander tried not to roll his eyes. He knew that Madam Malkin was a rather lonely widow who believed him to be a lonely widower in need of company. He supposed he was a somewhat lonely widower, however, he did not consider himself in need of company. He silently reminded himself that it would hurt her feelings if he ever declined having tea with her. On the bright side, she did make good biscuits.

“How thoughtful of you Miranda,” answered Mr Ollivander, graciously accepting the tin of biscuits. “Won’t you come in and have a cup of tea?”

Madam Malkin beamed. “Why thank you Silvanus, I would love a cup of chamomile.”

Mr Ollivander quickly got two teacups from the shelf and filled one with chamomile tea and the other with Earl Grey. He offered Madam Malkin the large purple chair and handed her a cup and saucer.

He then levitated the sugar bowl and milk over to the little table beside Madam Malkin’s chair. Daphne had always insisted that they have milk and sugar in case of guests, even though neither of them ever put it in their Earl Grey. She’d also been the one who’d thought to keep more than one type of tea on hand.

Mr Ollivander and Madam Malkin chatted pleasantly about the weather and how her robe shop was doing. Madam Malkin was just about to ask Mr Ollivander about the purple envelope on his desk when the shop bell rang.

“Oh, do excuse me Miranda,” apologized Mr Ollivander as he got up from his desk to attend to his customer.

“Think nothing of it Silvanus, I should be getting back to my shop anyhow,” replied Madam Malkin as she bustled out.

Mr Ollivander went to see to his customer only to discover that she wasn’t a customer at all. Instead, she was a witch collecting for the Society for the Support of Squibs. Mr Ollivander happily gave her a few Galleons from his moneybag and then returned to the back room to do some bookkeeping.

After recording the week’s transactions, Silvanus gathered up a cloth and some polish. He went out to the front window and picked up the wand that he kept on display atop a cushion. This was Helen’s wand. She had been his apprentice and had been experimenting with the wand-making procedure. It had been Helen’s desire to create wands that could not perform Dark Magic, particularly the Unforgivable Curses. Silvanus and Daphne had been quite proud of their daughter’s efforts. Silvanus knew that she had been close to finding a way to do it, but tragically, she had been killed while experimenting on her own wand. No one knew exactly what had gone wrong, but nevertheless, Helen was dead and her research had died with her. Silvanus had never even considered selling the wand and knew that it would be dangerous to let anyone use it, but in recognition to both his daughter and her dream, he kept the wand on display in the window.

Once he had completed his task, he checked his watch and realized it would be closing time soon. He still had some correspondence to go over, so he started his teakettle again.

After making himself another cup of tea, Mr Ollivander sat down in his favourite chair and opened the letter from his granddaughter.


Dearest Grandfather,

Thank you ever so much for your last letter, it was good to hear from you. School is going well. Do you recall the new friends I told you about over Christams? Well one of them asked me to meet with them in Hogsmeade this weekend. I’m quite excited about it! I suppose I should make some new earrings for the occasion.

I’m studying hard for exams. Thus far I’ve mostly covered Potions, Transfiguration, and Herbology. I was hoping that you could help me with Charms and History of Magic over the holidays.

I’m afraid this letter may take a while to reach you since all our mail is being opened and checked. I suspect the Hogwarts High Inquisitor is part of the Rotfang Conspiracy. We can discuss that further when I see you at Easter.

With love,

Luna

Silvanus pulled out some dark purple parchment, a pot of silver ink and a new quill to write his reply.


My dearest Luna,

Thank you for your charming letter. I’m very glad to hear that you’re making more friends and hope that your trip to Hogsmeade is as delightful as you are. I would be more than happy to help you with Charms and History of Magic. If you would like, we could discuss History of Magic over Easter dinner with a very dear friend of mine.

I’ve enclosed some new quills and a book I thought you might enjoy. If you’d like to invite some of your friends over for part of the Easter holidays, I’d be delighted to meet them. I’ll be counting the days until I see you again while eagerly awaiting your next letter.

All my love,

Your Grandfather


Silvanus put the letter in a purple envelope and carefully sealed it with the family crest. He then gave it and the gifts to Grimfeather to deliver to Hogwarts. He gave the large owl a few Owl Treats before he flew away.

Silvanus then pulled out an old wooden box from his desk. It wasn’t very large, but was covered in intricate carvings of unicorns, dragons and phoneixes. He tapped it with his wand and muttered something barely audible, causing the carved figures to move and reveal the keyhole. He pulled a small gold key from a chain on his pocket-watch and proceeded to unlock the box. This was the box where Silvanus stored his greatest treasures; all the letters he’d ever received from Daphne, Helen and Luna. The first drawer in the box was for Daphne. He and Daphne had written many love letters to each other when they’d been courting. He’d also kept little notes she’d written to him over the years. The last one she’d written simply read:


Sweetheart,

I’ve just gone to the Apothecary to buy some peppermint leaves.

Love,

Daphne


The second drawer was for Helen. She had drawn him pictures of unicorns and dragons before she could write and then she’d written to him once a week for the seven years she’d been at Hogwarts. He’d kept the handwritten wedding invitation she’d sent him and the note that read:


Dear Mum and Daddy,

I thought you’d want to know that you are now the proud grandparents to a darling baby girl! She has my hair and Daddy’s eyes, which is why we’ve decided to name her Luna.

We’re currently at St Mungo’s, please visit soon.

All my love,

Helen


Helen had continued to write to him after Luna’s birth, although not quite so frequently. That was when he’d added the third drawer to his treasure chest, the drawer for Luna.

Luna had also sent him many drawings and cards. Unlike her mother’s drawings, Luna’s were often of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks and Nargles, rather than dragons and unicorns. They were precious to him nonetheless. Luna also wrote to him once a week from Hogwarts. This year had been especially hard for him since the mail was often delayed. Luna’s letter was always the high point of his week.

A tear trickled down Silvanus’ cheek as he carefully folded the parchment and added it to Luna’s drawer. Sometimes he thought that this chest was the one he actually kept his heart in. Carefully he locked the box and replaced the key to his watch chain as the wooden figures returned to their positions once again concealing the way in. Mr Ollivander pulled his cloak on and whispered, “Nox.” He locked up the shop and then walked out onto Diagon Alley, barely noticing the gentle snowflakes falling all around him.