Flora stood completely stiff as he moved to cast a spell, silently praying that she was not going to explode into a million bits due to poor spell-casting. She was slightly less anxious when he spouted out a spell that sounded familiar, but nothing ever came of it. He obviously had no idea what he was doing.

And neither did she, in all honesty.

She held her hand out to take the wand from him, passing him a soft, tender smile in response to his concerns.

"I would never. I promise," she promised sincerely, her smile subtly widening. His wand was very pretty, she thought, if not a little plain. It wasn't extravagantly detailed, nor did he possess one of those shiny wand-holders that she'd seen some of her parents' friends with. But it was real, and the first wand she'd ever held herself.

She stood still for a moment, attempting to navigate through her memories of spells she'd heard her mother and father cast over the years. The incantations were often so foreign, and nearly impossible for someone to remember if they weren't consciously trying to do so. Then, one memory stuck.

"L-Lumos," she tried, her lack of confidence evidenced by her wavering tone. There was nothing. No spark. No spell. Nothing at all. She cast Mr. Fudge a disappointed glance before looking down at the wand once more.

"Do you know if that's right? It's not working," she sighed.

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