*Written from the PoV of Lucy

The day finally arrived when I got my own wand, this past weekend. My father had shown me a few basics with his wand, and taught me some of the wand lore, as well. He also had my tutor teach me how to focus my energy and such, so I already had a head start on most of my classmates. I was hoping I would soon be able to apply what I'd learned. I walked into Mr. Ollivander's on my eleventh birthday, which just made the year cutoff for Hogwarts. I would be among the youngest in our class.

Dad entered before me, and waited as Mr. Ollivander came around the corner. "Lord Baeytorin, how wonderful of you to drop by!" He greeted my father with a handshake and a nod of the head, and I waited patiently for him to notice me. "And a young Baeytorin too; lovely, lovely!" The man winked at me. I curtsied as I had been taught, then looked towards Dad again.

"Caitlin Lucette will be entering her first year at Hogwarts this year, Mr. Ollivander," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. The old wandmaker gave me a smile, his eyes lighting up. "Well, then I suppose you'll be needing a wand now, won't you?" I smiled shyly. "Yes sir, I suppose I will." I followed him into the back of the shop, looking in wonder at the boxes and boxes of wands that lined the shelves. It was rather like being in a shoe store, but much less organized.

Mr. Ollivander pulled out the first box and opened it, glancing at my father. "If I do recall, your wand is Yew, 10 3/4 in, with a Dragon Heartstring core?" My father nodded and handed over his wand, handle first. "Good, good, you take good care of it," he said, inspecting the tip. He handed it back to Dad, who placed it back in his robe. "I have a sneaking suspicion I know exactly what wand is for you, dear, but first let me check."

He pulled out a tape measure, which began whipping around me taking measurements. "Wand arm?" "Left," I responded. He looked up, a bit surprised. "Well, unique already!" I smiled, and he snapped his fingers, letting the tape measure fall to the floor. "Just as I suspected. I have a few which might suit you. Try this one." He removed the wand from the box on the table and handed it to me. I held it loosely, and made the wand movement for 'Lumos', leaving out the incantation. Mr. Ollivander raised his eyebrows a bit at this, but did not comment. "It doesn't feel.. right."

"We'll just have to keep trying, then!" We tried a few other wands, none of which worked. He then paused, as if remembering something. "What was your mother's wand, again?" My father cleared his throat and answered immediately. "Acacia, 12 inches long, with a Coral core," he said, his voice cracking a bit. I glanced up and him and gave his hand a squeeze, but he waved me off.

Ollivander nodded thoughtfully. "Coral, you say? And Acacia... a Gregorovitch, I suppose?" He continued without waiting for an answer. "I have made a few Acacia wands.. follow me." He led us to a shelf near the corner, and retrieved a box from the top shelf. 

He handed the wand to me and I performed the movement for another spell, but I didn't need to. I could tell from the moment I first grasped it that this was the wand for me. Ollivander smiled as it left a trail of mist and filled the shop with the scent of sharp peppermint. "Acacia, 10 3/4 inches, slightly yielding with a Unicorn core and a Blackthorn handle. That's the one!"

I waited as my father and paid for it my new wand, then thanked Mr. Ollivander for his time. I curtsied under my robe again, and thanked him, waving on our way out the door. "Daddy," I said in my best Daddy's girl voice, "could we stop by Florean's Ice Cream Parlor?" He shook his head. "No, dear, I have some errands to run.." I tugged his sleeve. "Oh come on, it won't take forever!" I knew money was not the problem. I gave him the most innocent, angelic little smile I could muster. He glanced at me, and his resolve crumbled. "Alright then, but just this once," he said, smiling and shaking his head. I knew I could change his mind again, though.

I skipped alongside him, grinning happily to myself. He had raised my sisters and I in preparation for life, and although we were not -bad- children, he still had little idea of what a mini-Slytherin I was.