My legs were shaking; a witch? How? "And.... You'll need your wand, 'course."

A wand? Was this a fairy tale? The giant man turned his head to me. "Andrea, right?" I smiled; most people called me Andrea. "Andromeda. Close though." I continued to walk on the cobblestone street slowly. My thoughts began to wonder out of control; What was this 'new' school like? Would the teachers be harsh? I miss Mom... And this man, this giant who called himself Hagrid, what was he about? Would he tail me like this for the rest of the year? "Uhgm!" Hagrid seemed to be clearing his throat. I looked up at him expectantly. He saw me looking at him and said, "Well, its, uh, right up here. Ah! Ollivanders." He seemed to mean a broken down cottage about 6 yards ahead. 

       When we entered the cottage with a clang of the door bell. A wizened old man was walking toward them. He had tufts of cloud-white hair in patches all over his head. He had misty eyes that seemed to go straight through my jean jacket all the way to my heart. "Ahh.... A new student? And Hagrid, of course. Sit down, sit down..." The old man turned from Hagrid, who was trying to squeeze his backside into a delicate chair, to me. He stretched out one thin, wrinkled hand in a gesture of shaking hands. I  shook his hand and quickly let go; his hands were soft, but slightly slimey. 

         Ollivander turned on his heel and walked into one of the rows that were lined up behind him. These rows reminded me of the rows in my favorite library, except, instead of books, the rows were piled high with thin boxes. Ollivander pulled one of the boxes off at random and silently handed it to me. I stared at him. "W-what am I supposed to do? M-mister Ollivander." Ollivander smiled, he had barely any teeth.  "Just take it out and give it a wave..." I opened the box and pulled out a sleek black wand. I was just about to raise it when Ollivander snatched it out of my hand. Muttering to himself "No, no, no, cedar and dragon heartstring.... no, no good...." He stuck the wand back on his shelf and pulled out another one. He handed it to me and backed away a few paces. I opened the box and withdrew a long, yellow wand. I raised the wand about head level and swiped downward. A pot on the nearby window sill shattered and fell to the ground. Ollivander held out his hand for the wand. 

     It continued this way for about an hour; i would pick up a wand and Ollivander would either snatch it away from me, or I would blow up one of Ollivanders possessions. Finally, Ollivander took one of the remaining wands on the shelf and handed it to me. I opened up the box and for what felt the two hundredth time waved the brown wand with a flick of my hand. Golden sparks flew out of the tip and exploded in showers like fireworks. At this Ollivander did a little skip, which made me question his age. "Yes! Of course... Willow, phoenix feather, 9 inches, slightly springy, good for anti-dark work...

      I examined my newfound wand with shaking fingers and looked up at Ollivander, he was smiling at me. I thanked Ollivander for my wand and exited the shop, feeling slightly more accepted than before...