Sterling stood hesitantly before a shabby, narrow shop, staring up at the nearly faded golden sign hanging above the entrance:
"Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."
Professor McGonagall had hurriedly left him standing here alone, facing the dusty display window where a single wand rested silently on a faded purple velvet cushion.
So this was Ollivanders, supposedly the maker of Britain's finest wands, according to Professor McGonagall?
Sterling trusted that the professor wouldn't mislead him. Perhaps this was simply a unique aesthetic choice or traditional decorative style?
He carefully pushed open the weathered door, using minimal force out of genuine concern that this ancient wooden barrier might actually break under his touch.
The moment he stepped inside, a crisp bell chimed somewhere in the depths of the shop, followed immediately by a gentle, measured voice.
"Good morning, young wizard."
An elderly man emerged from the back room with careful, deliberate steps, methodically polishing a wand in his weathered hands. He looked up directly at Sterling, and his pale eyes held an unmistakably mysterious glint.
"Hello, I'm Sterling Page, a new Hogwarts student starting this year. I'm here to find my wand."
The old wandmaker gazed intently into Sterling's eyes for what felt like an eternity, until Sterling finally blinked from the uncomfortable dryness. Only then did Mr. Ollivander look away and produce from his pocket a silver measuring tape that coiled like a living snake in his palm.
"Of course, a wand... the wand that will suit you perfectly... Mr. Page, which is your dominant hand?"
Ollivander's tone was extraordinarily soft, almost like a gentle murmur carried on the wind.
"My right hand, Mr. Ollivander."
For some inexplicable reason, Ollivander's soothing voice combined with the dusty atmosphere of the shop and the towering stacks of wand boxes reaching toward the ceiling created a calming, almost sacred quietude.
Sterling found his own voice dropping to match, speaking barely above a whisper as if afraid to disturb the ancient dust motes dancing in the filtered sunlight.
Ollivander carefully lifted Sterling's arm, measuring precisely from shoulder to fingertip and taking detailed measurements of his entire body. During this process, he recited what was clearly a familiar, well-rehearsed explanation:
"Every Ollivander wand contains a powerful magical core, Mr. Page. We use only unicorn hair, phoenix feather, and dragon heartstring. Each Ollivander wand is completely unique because no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are exactly alike. Of course, if you attempt to use another wizard's wand, you will never achieve optimal results."
He delivered this information seamlessly, having undoubtedly shared these same words with countless young wizards over the decades.
Ollivander moved through the impossibly tall shelves like a feather floating on air, occasionally opening various boxes, withdrawing wands for brief examination, and either nodding with approval or shaking his head in disappointment.
"Well then, let's discover which wand chooses you."
He swiftly retrieved the measuring tape that had been independently measuring the distance between Sterling's nostrils, wound it into a neat ball, and tucked it back into his pocket.
"Always remember this... the wand chooses the wizard. Never forget this fundamental truth."
Before placing the first wand into Sterling's waiting hands, Ollivander emphasized this crucial point once more.
The instant Sterling's fingers closed around the polished wood, and an unpleasant sour sensation crept steadily up his arm. Ollivander immediately reclaimed the wand and carefully returned it to its protective box.
"Ah, cherry wood with dragon heartstring. This combination clearly isn't suitable for you."
He selected another wand, placing it gently in Sterling's palm. This time Sterling experienced no discomfort whatsoever. He gave it a casual wave, and a small shower of brilliant orange sparks burst from the tip.
"Hawthorn wood with unicorn hair... no, while they suit you reasonably well, this isn't your perfect match. You will definitely find your ideal partner here. Still, the hawthorn wood does point us in a promising direction."
After carefully returning the hawthorn wand to its proper place, Ollivander selected three additional wands that shared a remarkably similar appearance, suggesting they were crafted from the same wood.
When Sterling tried the first one, it transformed a dusty cloth resting on a nearby bench into an elegant teacup.
"Black walnut wood with phoenix feather... we're getting much closer now. We're definitely on the right path, aren't we?"
The second wand produced a delicate cloud of silvery mist from its tip when waved.
"Black walnut wood with unicorn hair... obviously, you aren't naturally suited for magical stability. Though I must say, I still greatly admire the unwavering loyalty of unicorn hair."
The moment Sterling's fingers made contact with the third wand, what felt like an electric current seemed to cascade down his spine. He sensed his magical energy expanding outward dramatically, accompanied by an overwhelming premonition. This was definitely it.
Sterling gave the wand a deliberate, serious wave. A small plume of dark emerald flames rose gracefully from the tip.
"Absolutely perfect! The ideal combination! Undoubtedly your perfect magical partner!"
Ollivander applauded with genuine enthusiasm, carefully packed the chosen wand back into its original box, and wrapped the entire package with deep blue paper.
"Exactly thirteen inches, black walnut wood with dragon heartstring... truly an extraordinary pairing. Black walnut wood particularly favors sincere and steadfast young wizards who walk their chosen paths with determination, while dragon heartstring cores favor those with warrior spirits... these elements will serve as your strongest, most persistent magical supporters throughout your journey. If you remain always determined and never lose your way, they will prove even more loyal than unicorn hair."
Sterling solemnly accepted the wrapped box and paid Mr. Ollivander exactly seven Galleons. Professor McGonagall had explained during their walk here that every young wizard's first wand, regardless of the materials used, always cost precisely seven Galleons.
As he watched Sterling prepare to leave, Ollivander raised his voice slightly to add a final sentiment he had nearly forgotten:
"You will achieve truly great things in the future!"
Satisfied that Sterling had heard his parting words clearly, the elderly wandmaker returned to his back room to continue tending to the many wands he had yet to finish cleaning and maintaining. This encouraging phrase was something he shared with every young wizard, hoping it might inspire them in some meaningful way.
A few kind words cost absolutely nothing, but they might genuinely help nurture an outstanding wizard. Ollivander was always happy to offer such encouragement.
Once outside the ancient shop, Sterling carefully removed the wand from its protective box and held it properly, getting accustomed to its weight, thickness, and unique texture.
Professor McGonagall had emphasized that a wand was every wizard's most trusted companion. Lady Maleficent and the fairy godmother had also spoken of wands as supremely loyal partners. Sterling hadn't given this concept much serious thought initially, but upon finding his own perfect wand, he immediately understood and agreed completely.
Studying the beautifully grained, perfectly straight shaft, Sterling felt a sudden spark of creative inspiration. The most powerful wizard in his next story would definitely wield a magnificent wand exactly like this one.
"It appears you have chosen a wonderfully suitable partner. Ollivander's legendary expertise remains as exceptional as ever."
Professor McGonagall approached him, effortlessly carrying a floating bag that bobbed gently beside her.
"Cauldrons, protective gloves, parchment, a telescope, precision scales... everything is ready. Your school robes have been ordered and will be delivered by owl post after proper fitting."
She handed Sterling exactly three Sickles and seven Knuts in change. When they had parted in front of the wand shop earlier, she had taken some money from his leather pouch to purchase the list items that didn't require his personal presence, then used the remaining funds efficiently.
Of course, robes normally required individual measuring for proper fit, but McGonagall was an experienced educator and accomplished Transfiguration expert who could easily discern Sterling's exact body measurements through careful observation.
"Professor, you really understand these shopping requirements perfectly. You managed to purchase several items from the list while spending remarkably little money."
"Mr. Page, I've been guiding new students for many years now. Of course I'm thoroughly familiar with these standard materials and equipment. They've remained essentially unchanged over the decades."
McGonagall began leading Sterling toward another destination of tremendous interest to him... Flourish and Blotts bookstore.
An actual store specializing in magical books!
Sterling had never encountered anything remotely like this before. Though magic in the dream world was absolutely gorgeous and extraordinary, there had never been anything resembling a magical bookstore.
Powerful witches like Lady Maleficent only passed along magical knowledge through traditional master-apprentice relationships. Magical texts were carefully guarded treasures, never offered for public sale.
Noticing Sterling's noticeably quickened pace, Professor McGonagall smiled with genuine satisfaction.
The required textbooks on his supply list didn't actually require his personal selection. She had deliberately chosen not to purchase them beforehand because, quite obviously, given Sterling's intense curiosity about magical subjects, he wouldn't be satisfied with buying merely the required textbooks.
She privately suspected he might end up purchasing quite a substantial number of additional books. If the quantity became excessive, she might need to offer some practical guidance. After all, the largest and most comprehensive magical library in all of Britain was located right at Hogwarts.