The world violently tilted around Mason as the light returned. Nausea churned his stomach, and his knees buckled, sending him right into the cobblestone road. The air smelled fresh, like that of fresh ink on paper, and the noise of passerbys and carts alike made his head spin even more. He blinked repeatedly, trying to make sense of what just happened.
"Just give it a moment, everyone's first time is like this," Dumbledore said as he patted Mason's back.
Slowly, the nausea passed, and his eyesight returned, allowing him to take in his surroundings. Shops of every shape, size, and color lined the street, their windows cluttered with strange items, glowing sticks, glass jars with floating lights, cauldrons of all shapes and sizes, and robes that shimmered like the night sky. A group of children darted past, laughing as they were being chased by a floating, flaming, sword.
"Is this real?" He couldn't help but mutter
Dumbledore chuckled, "I would hope so, welcome to Diagon Alley."
The scent of fresh bread mingled in the air, making Mason's stomach rumble. A cart went past, pulled by a goat wearing a monocle and a top hat, and Mason had to step aside to avoid being run over. Every few steps, he spotted something more exciting than the last: a broom hovering in a window, a stack of books fighting amongst themselves, and a cat that vanished mid-air only to reappear on a lampost several feet away.
Dumbledore guided Mason through the bustling street, past bookshelves with stacks of books, cauldron shops that shook the very ground, and robe shops where mannequins stitched their own clothes. Mason looked everywhere, but Dumbledore gradually steered them to a small, crooked building off in the corner. A sign above the door read
"Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."
Dumbledore spoke, "No wizard is complete until they have found their wand, or rather their wand has found them'
Inside, the shop smelled of wood shavings and old parchment. Narrow shelves stretched to the ceilings, stacked with boxes as far as the eye can see. It was strangely quiet compared to the noise outside, almost as though you had entered a different world.
The silence was only broken by a creak of a floorboard as a pale man with curious eyes that seemed to see right through one's soul emerged from the shadows.
"Ahh... Mason Everhart," the man said softly as though he had been expecting him. "I was wondering when I would be seeing you."
Mason shifted uneasily under the man's gaze. "You... know me?"
Ollivander tilted his head. "Not yet, I am Ollivander."
Without another word, he shuffled his way over to a stack and picked a narrow box, and offered it to Mason
"Try this: ten inches, Unicorn hair, Maple wood."
Mason nervously removed the wand from its velvet lining. It felt warm to the touch, and then, before he could even wave it, a loud CRACK echoed, and rows of boxes fell to the ground like dominoes.
"Not that one," Ollivander muttered, "Definitely not."
Mason shrank and asked, "Did I break it?"
Dumbledore chuckled in the corner, "No, quite the opposite. The wand rejected you."
Ollivander bustled to another shelf and returned with a new box. "Try this one, hawthorn, phoenix feather, eleven inches. Good for charms."
Mason lifted it carefully, gave it a short wave, only for a loud BANG to erupt from the wand, sending a stack of parchment flying like startled birds. Mason dropped it in a panic. His face flushed red.
Ollivander tsked "No, no, definitely not this one, too temperamental for you."
He shuffled off again, muttering under his breath, only to return with another "Elm, Unicorn Hair, ten and a half inches, Balanced and dependable."
Mason wrapped his finger around the handle, hopefully this time, but as he gave it a wave, it fizzled like a wet firework before falling silent. Ollivander plucked it back immediately.
"Dependable, yes, but far too dull for you. No, you require something... unique"
His eyes seemed to shimmer as he climbed a ladder to the very top, reaching for a box on the very highest shelf, wiping away the dust as he walked my way. He returned with an unusual expression and laid the box down before Mason.
"This one is peculiar; few of its kind exist, but an excellent wand nonetheless. Bronze wood, dragon heartstring, and twelve inches. Strong with a taste of ambition, not for the faint of heart."
Mason hesitated, but curiosity took hold of him as he reached out and took hold of the wand. The moment his fingers closed, his body filled with warmth. He knew that very moment that this was the one. He reached out and gave it a wave as golden sparkles lit from the tip.
Ollivander's expression morphed into one of awe, "Ah... yes, that is the one, bronze wood, a unique choice, resilient and unyielding, and dragon's heartstring." His eyes flicked to Mason. "It speaks of great power, but such power always comes with consequence."
He blinked, his tone shifting back to business. "That will be 12 galleons then,"
Mason's stomach sank, and his face went pale. Twelve galleons? He had never even held one.
"I don't have any---" But Mason could finish speaking. Dumbledore cuts in..
"The school offers a scholarship for Muggle orphans, don't worry about it." He finishes and hands him 12 coins.