•─────⋅☾ ⋅ ༓ ⋅ ☽ ollivander’s wand shop circa 2001 ☾ ⋅ ༓ ⋅ ☽⋅─────•

Vivienne can still remember that day whenever she closes her eyes; the chime of the bell, sweet and high like the song of a bird calling spring when she first stepped foot into the whimsical shop. The scent of age-old wood, musty and fragrant, like the scent of grass after rain seeped into her skin and curled into the tresses of her hair. Incandescent orbs of the chandelier overhead lit up rows and rows of boxes that were stacked on top of one another, stretching high up towards the ceiling as the young girl’s eyes gazed in wonderment.

At Ollivander’s, mountains of dormant wands sleep in wait for the arrival of their destined owners, and she was here to claim hers.

The shop owner peeked over from where he stood behind the counter. His silver hair catching the light as he adjusted his spectacle, eyes twinkling as he took one singular glance at the young child as the corner of his mouth curled upwards as if he had known her long before she came to stand right before him. “Ah, Miss Vivienne, you’ve finally arrived.”

Her soft honeyed eyes seemed to flicker a slight confidence. For a child at the mere age of eleven, her gaze held a maturity beyond her years. She did not shy from the shop owner’s eyes, nor did she falter under his smile. With measured strides in her steps, she approached, touching the polished carvings on the surface of the counter.

As if in response, a faint glow of light rippled through the air, causing the boxes of wands to tremble ever so slightly. The shop owner’s eyes seemed to shine under the chandelier lights, confirming that she, too, had felt it.

"It's rare for a wand to make its presence known before its owner. But yours, Miss Vivienne,” he continued, “it had awoken right before it had met you." His voice was low, muted like a harbinger of delightful secrets, "it has been waiting for you."

The young girl’s breath was caught in as she listened, feeling a sense of enchantment wash over her, for how could a wand have been anticipating her arrival?

He studied her gaze for a moment, his sight flicking from her face to the stacked rows of wands behind her. Then, with a meaningful smile, he stepped out from behind the counter and began to move through the rows, his steps light and certain, as he navigated through the maze with ease. Soon, he returned, cradling a box within his palms like it were a gentle being.

The box was adorned with swirling patterns that danced within the dim light as he placed it delicately on the countertop. The shop owner slid off the top to reveal the wand that nestled within—vine wood, eleven and a half inches with a dragon heartstring core.

It was slender and elegant, intricately carved details that made Vivienne’s eyes lit up, shining within was now a different aura compared to the one she carried when she first entered the shop. A surge of warmth flooded through her, a sense of rightness that she had never known before. And as she delicately grasped the wand, that familiar sense flooded through her veins like a feeling of recognition, of a long awaited reunion.

And as she turned to face the shop owner, she saw that he knew it too, his eyes sparkling with an acknowledgement that echoed her own. "Congratulations, Miss Vivienne," he said, his voice filled with delight. "I do believe you and your wand are destined for great things."