a renewed sense of curiosity.

[Austin Callahan]

As afternoons went, the eleven-year-old boy who had spent the last eighty minutes pacing a clothing shop, clutching a crumpled piece of parchment, this would be rated as one of the worst of his young life. It wasn’t that he was unwilling towards the prospect of learning at Hogwarts, or that the thought of castle corridors thoroughly bored him, in fact, quite the opposite was true of this particular individual. What happened to have bothered the boy on this occasion was the lack of ability to summon the mystical condition of being eager to shop. To him, shopping remained a dull phenomenon that he would much rather avoid. In all forms that he could possibly repeat this gesture, he tended to shy away from such tiresome activities, being far more inclined to spend him time playing sports in the gardens, or otherwise occupying himself in a manner than he actually enjoyed. Shopping, in short, was something he did not care for, neither was it something that he put much effort into doing.

The truth was that no matter what Austin was supposed to purchase, no amount of interest was ever inspired. He repeatedly discovered a heightened sense of boredom and frustration at being 'controlled' in such an environment rather than a new-found love for the formerly despised past time. Instead of finding curiosity and intrigue at the sales in the local shops, he found weariness and impatience and instead of disappointment at the end of the day, he reveled in an overwhelming sense of relief. There were so many more worthy activities to fulfill his time and effort to than that of shopping for school supplies. Quite frankly, he still couldn't see why a servant was unable to perform such menial tasks as opposed to himself.

Still, he convinced himself, at least there was some potential interest to be found at the bottom of the provided list. That was, of course, the item that corresponded to a visit to the edge of Diagon Alley, in which wands were obtained. Surely this purchase couldn't be boring? Or, at least, he was optimistic that it'd be highly entertaining compared to the rest of the time that he grudgingly believed had been stolen from him.

Ignoring the fact that half of the list remained unchecked, he made his way towards the small shop on the left of the street, taking a few steps into the shop itself. Caution had never been a characteristic of Austin's, despite his tender age. Dropping the heavy bags he'd already accumulated through what seemed like hours of browsing. he relished the feeling of his arms operating as normal. The thought of waiting for service hardly occurred to him, having reached towards a few newly scattered wand-shaped boxes with renewed intrigue. Selecting the wand he found to be most physically attractive, he ran a hand along the wood, examining this much desired item.

[Diagon Alley Shopkeeper]

The day had proved a slow one for the little shop and the wandmaker within. It wasn't the beginning of the school shopping season, but nor was it the very end. Most people either rushed to get everything right away, or they put it off until the very last minute. It had been that way when he was a boy, and he supposed it probably always would be. One of those quirks of human nature.

Standing between two of the aisles, the wandmaker let his eyes roam over the stacks of wand boxes contained on them. Something seemed out of place but he couldn't put his finger on it. Of course, to the untrained eye, everything in this shop seemed out of place and in utter disarray. Not that Ollivander, or any Ollivander before him for that matter, had ever cared what others thought. They did things their way and that was that.

After a few more moments of searching, he gave a sigh of defeat and decided to finish tidying up the front of the shop instead. Perhaps that dull task would help him figure it out. Before he had even taken a few steps though the chime of the bell over the door sounded. He straightened his robe as he hastened to the front where a young man, a first year like most of them it looked, was examining a previously tried wand.

"Beautiful isn't it?" he said, as he stepped behind the counter. "12.5", made of black walnut, with the core of a dragon heartstring. It's certainly an impressive looking specimen, but...I don't believe it's quite right for you. Your wand is somewhere in here though. I can assure you of that."

Making his way out from behind the counter, he offered the young man his hand, "As you may have guessed, I am Ollivander."

[Austin Callahan]

It was clear from the boy's expression that he was defensive, at first, to being seemingly denied the wand he'd taken an interest in. Of course, most would have probably worked out in advance to the shopkeeper's appearance that it wasn't a case of just getting whatever you wanted and paying for it, before leaving the shop as quickly as you had entered. Even though Austin had been aware of these likely set of events even before picking up the wand he'd found strewn across a desk, he still showed signs of frustration for the man attempting to persuade him to give it back. He didn't see the point in trying hundreds of different woods and cores, merely to find what the man deemed to be his "perfect match." As long as it wouldn't rebel against him and cause massive explosions in the hallways, he'd be happy to take it and exit, with the relief of his shopping trip being over ringing in his ears.

However, something appeared to indicate that the shopkeeper wasn't the type to oblige the young boy's, merely in the hope that both of them could be finished by lunchtime. Relenting, but reluctantly so, he turned his full attention to the speaker, dropping the wand he was grasping.

Shrugging, he appeared more thoughtful than any expression he'd demonstrated in the few minutes they'd share together. "I don't know if I'd say 'beautiful', that word doesn't often appear in my vocabulary. It's a decent wand. Evidently that someone made of walnut, as you've now said." Little hesitation from a person who should be, perhaps, somewhat more restrictive in language or actions around those of an older age. "I don't see how one mere look at a person can make you aware of which wand belongs to me, or not." The doubt was thoroughly beset throughout the eleven-year-old's tone, yet never bordering on rude. "There must be thousands of wands and yet you believe that only one is the one for each individual. A lengthy process."

The appearance of Ollivander's hand surprised Mr. Callahan slightly, with further hesitation, as though weighing the costs and benefits of doing so, before placing his hand briefly in the man's. "I don't have the patience to try out twenty wands," he warned, bluntly.

[Diagon Alley Shopkeeper]

The boy seemed a bit taken aback by his comment and went on to confirm it with words. It was a little peculiar, considering most who came for their first wand were excited and just happy it was finally happening. This one made it sound like it was just another hassle on his list. But, he supposed they couldn't all be the same.

"Trying to play down something you liked very much mere moments ago isn't a becoming trait. And, it's obvious," he said, examining the boy a bit closer as he shook his hand. "If you looked over the door as you came in, you would see a small sign that tells you this wandmaking business has been around since 382 B.C. It has also always been the Ollivander family business. I was practically raised in this shop, and have never considered being anything but a wandmaker. If you are around something long enough, you learn the tricks of the trade."

Crossing his arms behind his back he turned his attention to the "thousands of wands" the young man mentioned. "Actually, you can have multiple pairings. Many people who break their wands come back and I always find something new for them. The wand is the one who chooses though, and wands are always picky. I simply play matchmaker," he explained, reaching out and picking up a measuring tape. "I know how to find the types of wands most likely to bond with you, and normally, it only take a few tries. Of course, you're welcome to pick a random wand off the shelf and buy that. But don't come back upset when you can't perform the most basic of spells or it backfires and humiliates you in front of your entire class."

Tossing the tape measure lazily in the air, it sprang to life and hovered between them, waiting to do its job. "Or...you can trust me, and we can get started. Your choice."

[Austin Callahan]

The resistance from both sides here was adding to to the length of his shopping experience, something he was eager to avoid, even at the expense of dropping a line of disagreement with another person to shorten the time spent in more shops. A small shrug rolled off his shoulders, evidently not being entertained by the topic of conversation any longer, letting the comment from the wand-maker pass him by. "I don't have any becoming habits," he stated briefly, although not with the embarrassment or regret of the average person if announcing the same thing., In fact, he showed little sign of being upset about lacking these 'becoming' personality traits as a snail on the sidewalk would. No expression at all.

A twitch of his eyelids made his perspective switch back to the man still insisting on taking far too long to service him and relieve the boy of his nightmare day. "I find it difficult to believe there's only three or four that would suit me. I could be trying them on for hours. Isn't there a faster alternative, other than the ridiculous ones you've offered?" If the man was talented as he claimed to be, as correlated with the recommendations of several others, why did the experience seem to be dragging on for so long?

A stronger signal of distrust escaped the boy's gaze, as he continued to watch the man carefully. Circumstances of Austin's childhood had turned him into the kind of individual, who while striving to be the centre of attention, did not crave the friendship of other people. "Surely it's based on traits. I don't have any good ones, remember?" Brutally honest, as always. The fastest route to his desires. He believed what the older person was saying, yet the trust that he asked for remained missing from the atmosphere. "Is the trust necessary?" he inquired, sensing that this process might have hit a certain snag along the line, if this step was unavoidable.

[Diagon Alley Shopkeeper]

Well, this was a stubborn one. "The quickest way will be for us to stop jabbering about fast alternatives and just get started. If my methods of finding a wand were so slow, then I wouldn't still be in business, now would I?" he asked with an arched eyebrow. He would normally have been halfway to finding most new witches and wizards their wand by now, but not this time.

"Good or bad, traits are traits to a wand. Anyhow, it is more what you are capable of that interests a wand. What will you be able to do, what you desire to do," he summed up. "And trust as in, trust me to do my job. I'm not going to perform any spells on you or anything like that."

"Now, let's just get this done and over with. Stand up straight so the measuring tape can get your measurements properly, and while it does that, tell me what classes you are most looking forward to at Hogwarts. What do you think will strike your interest or that you will excel at?" as he said this, the measuring tape moved to just a few inches away from the boy, waiting to measure him. If a measuring tape were a creature, you could almost call it impatient.

[Austin Callahan]

His eyes returned to scan the face of the shopkeeper once more, still evidently reluctant to oblige, despite several motivations to do so. Still, something continued to hold him back from further progress. "I'm not jabbering," he responded almost automatically, still the same visible signs of doubt never leaving his face. "If people were eager enough, I think they'd wait longer to have a wand." His statement was somewhat thoughtful, as though he'd considered this predicament before this moment. "Cooperation issues can hold anyone up."

Sensing that the man might also be sharing his thoughts about the length of time this situation was enveloping, he paused, momentarily, taking in his surroundings for the second time this morning. He couldn't imagine himself spending so much time in a comparatively small room to the house in which he had grown up in, such was his constantly evolving perspective of life. Breathing inwardly and sharply, he addressed his company in this drawn-out scenario, still emitting outward impressions of curiosity, mixed with suspicion. Even he couldn't describe exactly what it was that made him so. He'd always been distrustful of other individuals, since the ones he was more accustomed to did not do anything for him that did not also benefit themselves.

The elder man's disposition concerning the boy's earlier comments caught his attention, as he took a step towards a small wooden table in the corner nearest to his former position. "So, you agree?" he asked, dropping the tone of his voice slightly, but never wavering in the confidence he aimed to display. "You think I need a wand to 'tolerate' my bad traits?" Here, the intrigue in his speech was palpable, as though he was genuinely interested to hear the shopkeeper's thoughts on his difficult client.

"What if I don't want to do anything?" he replied, having taken a short amount of time to ponder over the questions posed by the other individual in the room. "What if I won't achieve anything? I heard that wands get bored if nothing happens. I might not fit any of these wands because of that reason. I don't have ambition, or long-term desires. Only selfish short-term ones that could be performed with or without a wand. So, anything I guess, and nothing. I excel at independence. The only thing I trust is myself."

[Diagon Alley Shopkeeper]

"No, I said traits are traits. A wand does not differentiate between good or bad. They only understand what feels right," he explained. "You are barely over a decade old. There are wands in this shop that are older than you. I'm sorry to tell you this, but contrary to what you might believe, you don't actually know yourself that well yet. You don't know what you're truly capable of until you try. Of course, trying could result in failure, and from everything you are saying, you fear failure. Whether it be your own failure, or being associated with failure. If all you do is go through life being afraid and never trying anything, then you will have failed in the grandest way possible."

The measuring tape did its job as well as it could, and Ollivander called it off once he was satisfied. "Now, less chat, more trying wands. You're not the only one who needs a wand," he said, as he glanced out the front window where a family was standing around waiting near the door. Making his way through the aisles, and occasionally digging through the piles, he produced a small assortment of wands. Placing them on the counter, he chose one and offered it to the boy, "12.75", made of aspen, and a core of erkling darts. I have found that this particular core seems to bond with those who enjoy attention, whether that attention be positive or negative. Give it a wave."