Finally, after a month and a half of lounging around the Sanditon, Flora had finally found it in her to complain—and surprisingly, her mother had not at all been fussed about taking her to London! Saying that the different scenery was a breath of fresh air probably wasn't the most accurate statement, but it was true in her situation; she'd never thought she'd grow so bored of the zoo and ocean and spa, but she had!
Flora's chest was filled with butterflies as she stood in front of the Ollivander's storefront, thoughts of her future wand swirling around in her head. Would it be a light-colored wand wood? Would it have a pretty, ornamental handle? What would the core be? What cores did they even use?
She wasn't sure how long she stood outside, but a gentle nudge from behind send her walking straight towards the door—and then with a deep breath, right inside the building. It hadn't taken very long for her presence to be noticed by Mr. Ollivander himself, and before she knew it she was trying out an assortment of wands.
The fourteen-inch wand was far too big for her, but the wood was very pretty—prettier than anything she could have imagined!—and she was hesitant to give it back to the wandmaker. She did eventually resign with a sigh and place the wand back onto the counter top without anything more than a frustrated huff.
A moment later, she nodded up at the wandmaker, giving him permission to measure her.
"I want something that oozes elegance and beauty—not literally, though."
Flora's chest was filled with butterflies as she stood in front of the Ollivander's storefront, thoughts of her future wand swirling around in her head. Would it be a light-colored wand wood? Would it have a pretty, ornamental handle? What would the core be? What cores did they even use?
She wasn't sure how long she stood outside, but a gentle nudge from behind send her walking straight towards the door—and then with a deep breath, right inside the building. It hadn't taken very long for her presence to be noticed by Mr. Ollivander himself, and before she knew it she was trying out an assortment of wands.
The fourteen-inch wand was far too big for her, but the wood was very pretty—prettier than anything she could have imagined!—and she was hesitant to give it back to the wandmaker. She did eventually resign with a sigh and place the wand back onto the counter top without anything more than a frustrated huff.
A moment later, she nodded up at the wandmaker, giving him permission to measure her.
"I want something that oozes elegance and beauty—not literally, though."
