"The same wand wood," he corrected with a smile. "And it's just a legend. No one actually knows what Merlin's wand was." That was one of the reason the idea of finding Avalon was so tantalizing still, to the point where an entire expedition had been launched to go looking for it. Everyone assumed that Merlin had been buried with his wand, as was the custom of the day. If they could find Merlin's grave, they would find his wand — and some believed that it was one of the most powerful wands ever created. Second only to the Elder Wand of lore — but that was just a children's story. Some would argue that Merlin was, too, at least as he was commonly portrayed. Tales of his exploits might have been more fiction than fact at this point, but it was at least vaguely verifiable that there had been a Merlin.

"Some people think so. It depends on what you're used to," he explained, regarding the handle question. "People who get them always want one for their second wand, if they have to get a replacement. But if you're well matched to your wand, I think you sort of... grow together," he said with a shrug. "With or without a handle, it'll feel like an extension of your hand sooner or later."

He fished the wand out of the box and handed it to Billie, but took it back before she'd had a chance to so much as wiggle it. "Oh, no. I don't know what I was thinking. Not that at all," he said, replacing it in the case. He'd been thinking sentimentally, of course, which was what had lead him astray — that, and he was admittedly thrown off his game by the discomfort of the conversation they'd just had. He was quite certain at this point that her wand was not English oak, and he'd taken it back from her before she could do any unintentional damage with it, so that was a bit of progress, he supposed.

Turning back to the wall of wands behind him, he took a moment to consider. "Hmm," he mused aloud after a moment. "Now that's a possibility..."