Gideon had a feeling right after he'd handed her the wand that it wouldn't be the right one, but the wave she gave it confirmed his suspicions. Sometimes he could just tell that a particular wand wasn't going to work, though he couldn't have articulated exactly why he felt that way. He'd been doing this long enough, he supposed, first while assisting his father and then in his own right once he'd become an adult and fully fledged wandmaker, that he had something of a sixth sense for the right match. Still, it was helpful to see how the incorrect wands reacted, because it helped him hone his next guess. This one did nothing particular exciting, just put out a sad squishing sound before Gideon crossed to Billie and deftly snatched it away from her.
"Not that one," he explained as he replaced it in the box and turned his attention to reshelving it. "I like fir wands, and to hear my father tell it their owners survive all sorts of things. One was nearly eaten by a dragon. One of the others went out on the Hogsmeade Expedition and returned unharmed even though everyone else in their group died," he continued, before reflecting that maybe this was a bit more morbid than he'd expected. He'd thought fir was a nice sentimental starting point for Billie, since she'd proved so resilient in her life so far, but now that she'd asked for actual examples he wasn't as keen on it as he'd been at first. Those wand owners who had proven to be survivors had gotten themselves into hairy situations in the first place, after all, and he didn't want her running off to face down death anytime soon, with a fir wand or not.
He let his eyes skim over the shelves as he considered where to go next. It never hurt to try walnut when looking for a first wand for a child, but pear or larch might suit her just as well. Not hawthorn, he reflected; hawthorn was too complicated. "Let's try pear," he decided, moving to another section of the shelf and pulling one box halfway out, then changing his mind and choosing an adjacent wand instead. He hadn't made every wand in this shop, but since so much of their stock had been lost in the fire he'd had a hand in a good deal of them, and when one spent so long crafting a wand it was hard to forget the particulars of its creation. There could be a good deal of difference in two pear wands that had come from different trees — or even from the same tree, but paired with a different core or treated differently during the process.
"And Hogwarts... well, I don't know how much you've heard about it," he said, circling back to her first question as he handed her the wand. "But there's just some... logistical things we'll have to talk about. Like the dormitories," he added softly. "After everyone's sorted, all the boys from the house sleep together in one room with a bunch of beds, and all the girls sleep in another room like that."
(Would she see the implied problem in that arrangement, or would he have to be more explicit? He wasn't sure).
"Not that one," he explained as he replaced it in the box and turned his attention to reshelving it. "I like fir wands, and to hear my father tell it their owners survive all sorts of things. One was nearly eaten by a dragon. One of the others went out on the Hogsmeade Expedition and returned unharmed even though everyone else in their group died," he continued, before reflecting that maybe this was a bit more morbid than he'd expected. He'd thought fir was a nice sentimental starting point for Billie, since she'd proved so resilient in her life so far, but now that she'd asked for actual examples he wasn't as keen on it as he'd been at first. Those wand owners who had proven to be survivors had gotten themselves into hairy situations in the first place, after all, and he didn't want her running off to face down death anytime soon, with a fir wand or not.
He let his eyes skim over the shelves as he considered where to go next. It never hurt to try walnut when looking for a first wand for a child, but pear or larch might suit her just as well. Not hawthorn, he reflected; hawthorn was too complicated. "Let's try pear," he decided, moving to another section of the shelf and pulling one box halfway out, then changing his mind and choosing an adjacent wand instead. He hadn't made every wand in this shop, but since so much of their stock had been lost in the fire he'd had a hand in a good deal of them, and when one spent so long crafting a wand it was hard to forget the particulars of its creation. There could be a good deal of difference in two pear wands that had come from different trees — or even from the same tree, but paired with a different core or treated differently during the process.
"And Hogwarts... well, I don't know how much you've heard about it," he said, circling back to her first question as he handed her the wand. "But there's just some... logistical things we'll have to talk about. Like the dormitories," he added softly. "After everyone's sorted, all the boys from the house sleep together in one room with a bunch of beds, and all the girls sleep in another room like that."
(Would she see the implied problem in that arrangement, or would he have to be more explicit? He wasn't sure).