Beyond Blue And Bronze
Chapter 2
The Wands’ Choice
The old man continued, his gaze fixed on some point just above the horizon, as it always was when he told stories… somewhere beyond the sand.
***
Ever since I could remember, I had lived in “St. Thomas Aquinas Home for Unique Girls and Boys”. The Edinburgh muggle community (the non-magical people) tended to stay well away from the dark, gated mansion house, which was useful because accidental magical outbursts were not uncommon in a home for wizarding orphans.
Of course we all knew about Hogwarts and everyone believed that one day they would receive “The Letter”. However, I’d seen it happen once, when a boy did not receive his expected invite. Now all the kids in the home dreaded the thought that they might not be “unique”, that they may turn out a “squib”. As it happens, my letter arrived on the same day as it did for another boy in the home, my friend Dale. We had always done everything together and that wasn’t going to change any time soon. The two of us were overjoyed. The big guy ran around the kitchen punching air when the owl brought us our letters. I think he had been more nervous than I was. I had already been able to make objects rattle and shake if I looked at them intently enough and I’d had a couple of notable incidents when picking up somebody else’s wand, but there was always a niggling doubt until you see the ink on parchment in front of you. After double-checking to make sure my letter wasn’t meant for some other Jack, I stood up to high-five Dale, but he’d gone in for a bear-hug and he nearly crushed me as flat as the letter itself.
When the time came to head to London. I was surprised that we were not going to Mary King’s Close Station, which was hidden from the muggles, deep under the heart of the city on a 17th century subterranean street. Sister Dominica, who ran the home and was the wisest person I knew, explained that the station at Mary King’s Close only served as a direct link to the wizarding village of Hogsmeade and that we must wait until Christmas for a chance to ride “The Jacobite Comet”. Instead we made our way to Waverley Station. It was still a great adventure to travel to London on a muggle train. Dale and I were so excited, bursting with questions, but we worried that we wouldn’t be able to speak freely on the train. Sister Dominica assured us that it would not be a problem in the carriage we were travelling on. Dale spoke with the accent of a Northerner from England, but in truth, neither of us could ever remember ever being outside of Scotland, so the trip to a different country was exciting enough but the thought of entering Diagon Alley and meeting our wands for the first time almost had us bouncing off the carriage walls. The sister had given Dale and I a bag of peppermint toads each for the journey. Dale examined both bags and decided that I had received the larger of the two. He playfully asked Sister Dominica if she hoped to put some meat on my bones. In truth, I think that she had simply hoped that it would keep us quiet for a bit. However, the confectionery remained in our pockets as our mouths fired a constant barrage of questions about the books, robes, hats and potion-making equipment we would need, so much so, that it felt like no time had passed when we were watching bricks unravel to form an archway as we entered Diagon Alley.
My tongue was still now, my eyes drinking in the sights and smells as we hustled past “Slug & Jiggers” apothecary, I was looking all around in every direction rather than watching where I was going and almost tripped over a very small man with a long beard who was flicking through a bookcase outside “Flourish and Blotts”. Dale suddenly bolted when he spotted “Broomstix”. Sister Dominica was not impressed. She grabbed my hand and dragged me in pursuit. We found Dale with his face pressed against the glass, drooling over racing brooms. She launched into one of her staunch lectures at Dale, whilst still clutching my hand.
My eyes had become drawn to Madam Malkin’s. I was particularly fixed by the mannequin in dark blue robes with a top hat on its head. Suddenly, I felt my arm being jerked so hard that it might come out of its socket.
“Have you heard nothing I have said, Jack Cappo?”
I knew I was in trouble when Sister Dominica used both names.
“We are due at Ollivander’s. We have no time to dilly-dally. Purchasing the items that Hogwarts requires you to have… not broomsticks… comes after you have been selected by your wands.”
We were both grabbed. One each side of the determined nun who was now ploughing her way through witches and wizards along the busy street. Her pace slowed, then stopped outside a small shop called “Madam Primpernelle’s Beautifying Potions”. Dale raised his free hand and made a fake cough. We were whisked away at even greater speed.
Finally coming to an abrupt halt, we were released outside a shop with two cylindrical windows of paned glass, above the door the name read “Ollivander’s” and in smaller print, “Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.” I took a deep breath.
The door creaked open. The waiting area in the front of the shop was narrow and dark. As the door closed the constant noise outside was smothered in near silence. Only the steady tick.. tick.. tick.. of an unseen clock punctuated the vacuum. There was a boy and his father ahead of us in line. A skinny gentleman with a lined face and wild white hair emerged from behind the counter. It was Garrick Ollivander, the wand-maker, and he bid the boy forward. I felt nervous now. I had always strongly believed that this was my destiny, but now, standing on the brink of meeting it, somehow it made me feel uneasy. The shop door opened again and in came a tall wizard and a young dark-haired girl, they were talking very quickly, in what sounded like Italian to me. Then... Crash! Dale had dropped his bag of peppermint toads and when he bent down to get them, nudged me off my chair. I, in turn, clattered into the girl. “Oh Jeez, sorry!” I said, as I went to help her up. She spun round with a look that could kill, then softened and smiled, “It's okay,” she said with a strong Italian accent, “I'm Claudia.” I climbed back onto my chair, “Hi, I'm Cappo, Jack Cappo”. Dale snorted. “Aaaand my butter-fingered friend beside me is Dale.” As I turned to introduce him I saw that he was already on his way up to meet Ollivander. “Good luck, you muppet!” I called after him.
I felt a little awkward now, “Errr... peppermint toad?” I said as I held my bag out. Claudia looked up to her dad and he nodded. “Thank you.” she replied. I wasn’t sure what else to say, so just stayed quiet. She was a skinny girl with straight hair that sat on her shoulders. I noticed that her eyes were large and dark. Not quite mooncalf-sized but I couldn’t help feeling that there was a sadness behind them. I had just become aware that I was probably staring when multi-coloured sparks flew out from the back of the shop. Dale emerged, face beaming, with Ollivander behind him, “Now you Jack,” the old wizard beckoned me forward. I rose from my seat almost in a trance and then heard a voice behind me, “Good luck, you muppet!” the Italian girl offered. “Uhm... thanks!” I replied, turning a confused pirouette.
Before I knew it, I was in the back with Ollivander, my excitement reaching fever pitch. I watched as he ran his index finger along a line of wand cases. He stopped when one box started to rattle and shake. It began to edge its way out of the pile. Ollivander drew the box out with his long fingers, “Curious,” he muttered, “This one seems very keen.” He blew the dust off the top of the box, then stopped, his eyes widened, “But that’s not possible. This wand wasn’t made by me.”
“Not made by you, Sir? I thought that…”
“This wand was made by my father. I thought I removed all of these a long time ago.” He shook his head and tutted as he went to put the box back, but the box had other ideas. It shook and rattled with such vigour that it was impossible to replace. The old wizard turned and looked into my eyes, deep, as if looking into my soul. Then he lifted a thumb sideways and squinted almost as if he were making some kind of measurements in the air. Very gently, he placed the fragile box in front of me and took three very deliberate steps back. I leant forward, nervously lifting the box. Mr Ollivander started pacing, tapping a boney fore-finger against his face. “Now a Hawthorn wand,” he began, “Often aligns itself with a wizard who is going through some kind of turmoil or conflict.” I lifted the wand from its bed of deep blue velvet and let my fingers close on the bark of its handle. I felt the surge within me. “This type of wand also normally chooses a wizard or witch of considerable talent, but… with the tail hair of a kelpie at its core…” His voice tailed off as he regarded me turning the wand in a slow arc around the room. The energy surge was growing but not overpowering. I felt it gave me focus, like anything was achievable now. There were no fireworks but I was consumed with confidence. Nothing ever felt more right. Ollivander spoke with a grin, “It seems you are this wands first choice. My father always waxed lyrical about the protective properties of a kelpie core, but in truth...” He stopped and clapped a hand on my shoulder, fixed my gaze, then announced loudly, “Study well my boy, for in the hands of a lazy wizard this wand could backfire, badly!” I didn't really hear the words of warning that day, I was a wizard now and that was all that mattered.
When I emerged from the back room, I thanked Mr Ollivander and shook his hand. I could see Dale was itching to get back out and start shopping. Ollivander turned to the front of the shop, “And you must be Miss Corvonero?” Claudia walked past me towards the wand-maker. “Good luck…” I paused then concluded, “Just, good luck.” Then I grabbed Dale by the arm and we exited into the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley.
***
The old man had been silent for about 10 seconds now. The youngest girl, Emma, was waiting for more story with her mouth wide open. After a few more seconds she absent-mindedly spoke in awe, “Miss Corvonero was a girl!” The others all laughed. The old man seemed to come out of his trance, “Indeed, and she is also a witch, as I have just explained. So, if you will all excuse me.” He stood up out of his chair and began to walk to the door of his hut. The eldest boy, Jacob (who had a habit of over-kicking footballs) piped up, “But Mr Cappo, Sir. Aren’t you going to tell us how Miss Corvonero, errr… Claudia got her wand?” Emma had her best thinking face on, “Miss Corvonero’s real name is Cloudier, like... more clouds in the sky?” Again, all the children laughed. The other girl stood up, “Perhaps Jacob, he doesn’t know what happened next to Miss Corvonero. After all, he told us that he had already left the shop. Or perhaps he thinks we will be too frightened to hear the truth?” The old man turned and looked at the children, “In answer to your questions. Jacob, My Name is Dr Cappo, not Mister. Sarah, Yes... I do indeed know what happened next.” The old man's gaze shifted back to the sands and he spoke slowly through his smile, “I know what happened, in great detail.” His eyes locked back on Sarah, “And no, I don’t think you will be scared.” He then looked round all the children’s faces once more and laughed, “Okay, okay, you want to know more and you have persuaded me.”
Dr Cappo sank back into his chair and the children resumed their semi-circle.