"Only the best kinds of dogs," Gideon responded quite seriously, as though to allay any fears or hesitation that might arise from having a wand constructed from strays. It was difficult to keep a straight face at the boy's question — what did he think the wood in his hands was, a clever transfiguration? An optical illusion? Gideon maintained his composure just long enough to see Mr. Fletcher's reaction, then smiled and shook his head. "It's only a name for a kind of tree," he assured him with a chuckle.
"It seems to like you," he pointed out; the wand had taken on a subtle shine in the boy's hand, unnoticeable except to the trained eye. Gideon glanced at Billie to see if she'd noticed, though he thought there was little chance she had. Formal title aside, she had shown no particular inclination to grow up and be a wand maker — not when Quidditch and broom racing was more exciting, anyway. Her position in the shop was nine parts pretence and one part cleaning work, honestly, but she didn't seem to mind since it gave her plenty of freedom to run amok around Hogsmeade.
"Why don't you give it a wave and see what you think?" Gideon recommended, though he was already brainstorming other possibilities if this didn't end up being an ideal match.
"It seems to like you," he pointed out; the wand had taken on a subtle shine in the boy's hand, unnoticeable except to the trained eye. Gideon glanced at Billie to see if she'd noticed, though he thought there was little chance she had. Formal title aside, she had shown no particular inclination to grow up and be a wand maker — not when Quidditch and broom racing was more exciting, anyway. Her position in the shop was nine parts pretence and one part cleaning work, honestly, but she didn't seem to mind since it gave her plenty of freedom to run amok around Hogsmeade.
"Why don't you give it a wave and see what you think?" Gideon recommended, though he was already brainstorming other possibilities if this didn't end up being an ideal match.