Chapter 499 - Mr. Ollivander (2/2)
From the back room a pale old man emerges as his sharp silver eyes shimmer in the gloomy shop air. Mr. Ollivander's sharp eyes take her in as he says, ”Miss Prince to what do I owe the unexpected honor?”
”I need to have my wand looked at,” Rowan solemnly answered as she flicked her wrist and the spring wand holster dropped her wand into her open palm.
”Oh?” Mr. Ollivander solemnly said. ”And what might be the problem? It seems to be in perfectly good order.”
”I destroyed an artifact last night and I'd like to make certain that is indeed the case,” Rowan stiffly replied.
”Very well then,” Mr. Ollivander replied as he took the held-out wand. Twirling the wand in his fingers he nods and peers at the wand. ”No cracks. No magic core instability. Smooth still. No added duress. Still seems in perfect working order.” And as if to make sure a burst of sparks emerges from the tip of the wand.
Holding the wand out for Rowan to take, Mr. Ollivander says, ”Though the wand is stronger than the last time I saw it. Recent enough that the wand is still adjusting.”
Rowan does not answer the question as she accepts her wand back. Sliding the wand back into place she reaches into her mokeskin pouch and says, ”I'd like to commission a personalized second wand to be crafted.”
Mr. Ollivander narrows his eyes and says, ”I do not forge second wands, when there is a perfectly good first wand still in use.”
”I will have need for it,” Rowan firmly replied as she held out the long, Great Horned Serpent horn to him. ”I was told so by the one who gave me this.”
Mr. Ollivander's eyes meet Rowan's midnight black indigo eyes. Seeing the solemn truth there he gingerly takes the horn and feels the rush of power within the horn. ”I've never forged a wand with a Great Horned Serpent's horn. They are rare solitary creatures that rarely ever favor wizards with their horns. But when they do, so I have been told, their wands are incredible works of art.
Both powerful and flexible much like Water is and unlike the Phoenix feathers that burn bright and true like Fire. But I suppose a fitting core for one who is a descendant of Salazar Slytherin. But you wear a glamor over your left eye unlike Gilbert Grindelwald.”
Rowan stiffens as her eyes flicker in shock to meet his solemn piercing gaze. ”My father was the one who forged his first wand, aye, I remember it well. I was a mere youth then, but I remember the powerful wand that was forged then. And upon seeing once more, he returned changed. With an eye much like yours, yes, I recall him coming to see my father asking questions about a wand best forgotten,” Mr. Ollivander gravely said.
Turning away, Mr. Ollivander coldly mutters, ”You both have similar pair of eyes that are all seeing like the deepest pools of water that absorb all light failing to reflect absolutely nothing back. They are the consequences of the use of forbidden magic, nevertheless, come.”