"It isn't working anymore," she said simply. "It's an heirloom wand, never quite liked me in the first place — but recently, it simply stopped functioning at all." She picked the wand up again, twisting it in her fingers. The ash wood shone with a freshly-cleaned gleam, faint carved patterns of insectoid wings decorating its surface. "Ash and Doxy wing. I think it was my aunt's."
Gideon Ollivander

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