The Wonderful World of Hogwarts—A Detailed And Advanced Roleplay discussion

With a quiet sigh, Owen pushed his way through the front door of a deceivingly large shop. A small bell with a piercing ring had voiced itself as soon as Owen put his weight against the worn wooden slab, but his fingers lingered on its ornate mahogany handle.

"...Father, are we in the right place?" He asked quietly, glancing over his shoulder to see his guardian's response. Owen received an encouraging nod, but he simply frowned, turning back to the interior of the shop with a sort of condescending air. He didn't like closed and dusty spaces, and this reminded him too much of a library.

"You can wait out here, father, we won't be long." Owen assured as he took a step inside, though it was mostly because he wanted to get away from his stifling old man for a few moments.

Jason entered Ollivander's only a step behind his brother and was immediately engaged by the shop's rather eccentric appearance. A feigned attempt at organization left the entire place with a naturally enchanting air. The magic here was far less organized than the kind Jason's parents had forced upon him at a young age. He liked this magic much more. Nonetheless, he hesitated at the threshold to assess the area before entering. As his brother murmured under his breath, Jason let out a sardonic laugh. He was definitely not in the right place and he doubted he ever would be.

"Ah, twins!" a voice exclaimed, its cheery sound oddly muffled. Angela emerged from her rows of shelves, stacked to the brim with wand boxes, a stack in her arms. The plump witch used her nose to help keep the boxes all together as she made her way to the little counter separating the store in two, rather cross-eyed as she tried to keep an eye on the wobbling stack in her arms. A light sigh of relief escaped her as she set the stack down without incident. "Reorganizing," the dark-skinned witch said, gesturing towards the wand boxes. "Now, let me get a good look at you both."

Owen tipped his head in acknowledgement of the shop owner. Though he still wasn't necessarily pleased to be in such a cluttered space, he was at least content to hear she was making an effort to clean up.

At her word, Owen stepped to the side so that Jason could stand at his shoulder. Owen couldn't quite identify what it was about the stout woman, but it was clear she held the most power of the three of them, and for that he would show his respect. He clasped his hands behind his back and gave a polite bow. "My name is Owen Kent, madam." He introduced himself, assuming that it was a part of 'letting her get a look at them.' There was more to a wand than just a person's stature, or so father had said.

[ I was going to assume the father's waiting outside. Their mom hasn't been mentioned, so it's possible she didn't come with. ]

[ The father was outside, but didn't come inside. I can edit that in tomorrow if you'd like. ]

Jason eyed the stranger as she entered the room, most of her form hidden behind a tower of boxes in her arms. He took a half step forward with the intention of helping her carry her precarious load, but by the time he had shuffled closer in the small space she had already taken care of it. When his brother stepped aside at the witch's behest, he completed his movement to fill the space which had been vacated for him. "And I'm Jason," he added to Owen's introduction. Almost as an afterthought, he raised one hand in a relaxed wave and slid the other into the pocket of his jeans.

"As different as plums and pudding," Angela mused, meeting the eyes of the twins in turn as she concluded, "yet together something most delightful!" Wands, wands, wands... Perhaps— No, that wouldn't do, for either of them. The middle-aged witch drifted into the rows of shelves behind the counter, mumbling to herself all the while. She reemerged shortly with five boxes in hand. Out of a green box came a beautiful wand made of some kind of very pale wood. That she handed to Jason, a knowing smile teasing the corners of her mouth. For Owen, it was a red box, and it was a very dark wand that came out, rich, decadent chocolate in color. "Give 'em a wave. Let's see what happens, shall we?"

Owen opened his box a bit apprehensively. He'd fantasized many times about the appearance of his wand, wondering how light, spry, and colorful it would be. He'd always wished for one that would earn him the prestige his parents expected, but at the same time... he supposed he'd be alright with this one. The color reflected his hair a little bit, and as he grasped it in his left hand, he felt a tingle go up his arm.

"...like this?" Owen asked. Though his voice sounded smooth, he was incredibly uncertain as he flicked his wrist in an attempt at mirroring what he'd seen father do at home.

Jason took the green box he was offered with both hands, reluctant to disturb anything of magical origin. He watched out of his peripheral vision as his brother opened his respective box before doing the same. The elegant wand that lay inside was not like he'd been expecting, not that he had many expectations to begin with, and he was absorbed in it's quiet authority as he ran a finger reverently down it's length. Jason didn't associate himself with beauty on any level, but he was amused that the witch had selected such a piece of craftsmanship for him. Upon lifting the wand, he found it surprisingly light. Without inhibition, the young boy gave his wrist a small flick and swish.

[ Lupine: I want it to work for him, for reasons to later be revealed. Would you like to write the wand's reaction or no? ]

[ Lily: Hm... Yes. Okay. Give me a tad. ]

The reaction from the wand Owen held caused the wand maker to cringe. A jet of lightning burst from the tip and hit the pile of wand boxes she had just brought up front when the boys had entered, charring the lot. The wands would be fine, she knew, but the boxes... "No, not quite," she said in a hurry, taking the wand from the boy. "Not at all, actually." Of the other four boxes she'd brought up, not including the green one from which Jason was trying a wand, she selected a dusty blue one. After removing the lid, she held the box out to Owen, her small smile etched with slight concern.

Owen, to say the least, was crestfallen. He knew his father had seen what had happened, and his nerves were on edge. He'd failed. He'd failed his first wand. This wasn't supposed to happen-- he was supposed to be perfect, to have no problems, to be the shining child between himself and his brother. He flinched when Angela snatched the wand away from him, and for a moment, he earnestly thought he was going to cry. He took the second box limply, his fingers cold as he looked over to see what Jason's did.

Jason had little time to process the reaction of his brothers' wand before his own wave took effect. With the execution of his gesture there came a light rush at the back of his neck, as though a gentle breeze had wafted into the room, and a stack of papers whirled calmly up from the table across him. The boy turned quickly to see if the door had been opened by another customer and found that it was undisturbed. However, when he returned his attention to the pages once more, they were swirling smoothly back into place. Although taken aback by such a quick match, Jason was surprisingly warmed by the knowledge that this wand was his. "This is the one," he said to no one in particular. Perhaps, he was speaking to the wood itself. Expectantly, he raised his gaze to the others with a lopsided smile spread across his lips.

Jason received a nod from the witch, who took the wand from him and returned it to its box. "Owen, why don't you give that one there a swish?" Angela encouraged, gesturing to the box he now held.

Owen's jaw set itself into hard line. He didn't face his brother to acknowledge that dopey smile, simply attempting to keep calm. He took a deep breath, looking up as his name was called. His expression was mostly unreadable as he looked down at the second wand in his hand, the wood a lighter tawny as compared to the one he'd held before. His eyes darkened miserably. Now that he couldn't have the first one, he wondered what had gone wrong-- and why Jason's had worked the first time instead of his.

Maybe he just hadn't been good enough.

Clearing his mind as best he could, Owen took another breath, relaxing his jaw and loosening his shoulders before he took the wand in his left, holding it securely. I will succeed. He thought determinedly, lifting his elbow and more confidently flicking his wrist this time.

Jason was surprised at his own disappointment as the wand was roved from his grasp, even for a moment, and he sobered himself in preparation for Owen's next try. Perhaps it was only his imagination, but Jason thought his brother had become tense with irritation. Owen had always been the more hard-working and studious of the pair and if anyone deserved to succeed, he did. Quietly, Jason glanced back at their father before returning his gaze to his brother. "We'll find yours," he offered, unable to think of anything more assuring to say.

This one worked only slightly better than the last, producing a mere sputter of red and copper sparks. Seeming to anticipate his brother's disappointment, the other boy offered some comforting words. Angela frowned. It appeared she had underestimated Owen... "Give me a second," she told him. "I think I've been giving you the wrong sort of wands."

Owen blinked as the wand seemed to cough. It didn't shake him as much as the bolt of lightning had, but it certainly wasn't a good result. He resisted the urge to sigh-- if he wanted to find a wand, he needed to show he was worthy. Things of magical nature didn't like spineless cowards, after all. If he wanted to fit in, he'd just have to show how tenacious he really was.

"The wrong sorts of wands?" Owen repeated, blinking. Did that mean the wood, the core, the length...? He didn't verbalize his curiosity, simply putting the light brown wand back into its box before closing it and extending it to Angela.

With a quick glance at Jason, Owen muttered, "Thanks."

Angela took the wand and, with a stern look, told the boys, "Now don't you two go anywhere," before whisking off to the back of the shop.

Jason found himself intrigued by the wandmaker's following statement. Was it that the wands she had given his brother were not powerful enough? Or perhaps they were too... blunt. The process made no sense to the young wizard whatsoever, but he found himself ill at ease. What kind of wands were the right sort? What if he'd been wrong about his own wand? But, no, remembering it's wood against his fingers pushed that thought from his mind. However, he wondered what made Owen so very different from him - now more than ever. "So... she just matched you wrong?" he asked, attempting to remove some of his brother's responsibility for the mix up.

"Yes ma'am." Owen replied immediately. He was so used to responding to his mother and father's demands that it was a second nature to him. As soon as Angela was out of sight, Owen started to fidget, smoothing down his appearance as if he expected to be audited. Owen wasn't sure if it had been he who affected the wand, or the wand that was simply... different, but he knew that his change in mentality was what had caused the variation in results.

Owen glanced over as Jason spoke, and he looked away before his eyes flickered to the floor. "...No. That spectacular bolt of lightning was my fault, not hers, nor the wand's." He admitted. "I was timid, and it didn't like that. For the second, I think I wasn't timid enough." He clasped his wrists behind his back, tapping the toes of his new shoes together. "They say the third time's the charm, though." He said, a hopeful lilt in his voice.

[ Shit. I mixed them up in my head................... ]

[ Lmaoooo. ]

[ I maintain that Aspen might fit. ]

[ All right. Let's call it Aspen then. Perfect. That solves my problem! ]

The box Angela returned with was made of stiff leather, brown, with an uneven texture. Unlike most of the other boxes the twins could see, this was completely free of dust. Along with the appearance of this box, so to Hermann made his appearance, slipping in through the front door that had never been completely closed. The orange tabby rubbed up against Owen's legs before hopping atop the counter to join Angela.

There was something more solemn about the wand maker than what the twins had previously seen. She didn't say anything as she opened the lid. This one was attached to the box, unlike those of the more common wand boxes of solid red, green, and blue seen on the front row of shelves. From between cream creases of a small silk handkerchief, she drew forth a slender wand so pale it was nearly silver. The handle was reminiscent of the ivory handles of brushes or mirrors used by grand ladies in old French courts, held in the Palace of Versailles.

The older woman held out the wand to the boy. While she said nothing, the silence was enough.

Owen was speechless.

He had been completely focused on Angela's return when Hermann made his spine bristle. He looked down to see the orange-furred companion on the floor, almost tempted to reach down and rub between his ears before he was up and away, out of petting range. Owen hadn't had much experience with cats other than Mimi, and he was always surprised when a cat didn't want attention. When he'd finally refocused his attention, however, his entire demeanor changed.

It was beautiful. From the box to the silken padding to the very wand itself, Owen was in love. For a terrifying moment, he thought that Angela was going to psych him out and hand the wand to Jason, but-- no. She was staring at him, and he was staring right back, his hands still clasped behind his back as his heart shoved itself into his throat. Take it, he reminded himself. Take the bloody thing before you make yourself an idiot.

He did so. With steady yet freezing fingers, Owen took the wand from Angela with both hands, marveling at it. It was much lighter than the first two he had tried, and its handle was smooth as ice. He wrapped his left hand around it, breathless as it fit him. This was it. It had to be.

When Owen lifted his wrist and flicked the wand, he felt no fear. Only elation.

The papers on Angela's desk fluttered in a pleased manner, rustling themselves as a chorus before tucking back into neat, orderly stacks, and Owen swore he could hear his wand humming.

"...may I keep it?" Owen asked after he regained his wits, his eyes glittering like a child's.

Angela's face remained solemn, though a small smile crept up on her face. "Yes. Yes you may." The large ledger made its appearance, and the dark-skinned witch was quiet as she scribbled down a few things. "Four Galleons for the Aspen and Dragon heartstring, twelve inches, unyielding, and six for the Silver Lime and Mooncalf blood, nine inches and fifteen sixteenths, rather bendy, making for a total of ten Galleons." Hermann yawned started licking his paw.

[ Let's wrap this up, yeah? I'll not be posting again with Angela. After you're done, they can be Sorted (they'll each need their own topic there). ]

[ I think we can go ahead and place "completed" over the topic. Jason's reaction would not have been interactive, so I will not post for him again either. He can react in conversation later on. ]

[ Cool, thanks. :) ]