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Aralynn had been stewing ever since she encountered Lucius Malfoy in Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. First of all, she didn't understand why he had spoken to her in such an arrogant manner, and second of all, she couldn't figure out why he had treated her as though she were someone other than herself. The way he said goodbye wasn't sitting well with her. It clouded her mind and distracted her, and kept her from enjoying the beauty of Diagon Alley. They were still walking throughout the alley, stopping in and out of shops, buying what they needed, and leaving the shops again. Aralynn was still contemplating Lucius Malfoy's words when she bumped into her father. He looks down at her, giving her a wide smile and gestures for her to go inside.

"Where are we?" she asks, looking to the dimly lit, spooky shop. "Dad, I don't think anyone is in there."

"This is Ollivander's Wand Shop," Arthur tells her. 'The finest witches and wizards have gotten their wands from Ollivander's, including all of us. You need a wand, and there's no better place for you to get one. Go inside."

"I think it's empty," she says.

"It's not," Arthur reassures. "Go on, Mr. Ollivander won't hurt you."

"I have to go in by myself?" she asks incredulously, giving the shop a skeptical look.

"Mr. Ollivander doesn't like more than one person inside at a time. He says that it disrupts the process. I promise, you'll be okay, Aralynn."

Aralynn looks up at her father, then to the shop apprehensively. She takes a few steps forward, and slowly pushes the creaking down open. An old bell rings from the top of the door and she walks up to the counter. The door slams behind her, which causes her to jump and yelp in fear. She swings around to see what had caused to noise, but finds herself staring at the simple door. "Calm down, Aralynn," she mutters to herself. "Calm down, there's nothing scary about this shop. It's just old, and dusty, and… Musty."

The girl walks forward, looking back and forth nervously. The shop is still and quiet. The air rolling around inside is chilled and littered with dust. The shelves are tall, and some are knocked over. There are long, black boxes resting on the shelves that have fallen on the floor, have turned over, and have rotted due to water dripping from the ceiling. The smell of the building is almost nauseating. Aralynn rubs at her forearm, looking between the shelves, looking for any sign of human life. She feels her skin crawl, which causes coldness to swirl down her spine, and she shivers. The overall feeling of the building is extremely uncomfortable. "Hello?" she whispers, looking between the shelves. "Hello, my name is Aralynn Weasley, and I need my wand."

There was no answer, however, and she wasn't surprised to receive silence in return. 'Did I not speak loudly enough?' she thinks to herself. The shop remains eerily quiet and still. There has been no movement outside of her own, and she begins to feel even more uncomfortable than she previously did because of the stillness.

"Hello?" she calls again, but louder this time. A few moments after she spoke, a man with wild white hair appears in a dark doorway that leads to a different room. The two lock eyes. His eyes are squinted and full of curiosity and wonder, and Aralynn's reflect nervousness and fear.

"Hello, little one," he says softly, but loud enough to be heard. He moves forward slowly, almost gracefully, with his eyes studying her as he does. "You've come for your wand, I presume?" he asks.

Aralynn, paralyzed with fear and unable to speak, nods several times instead. She watches the man circle her like a vulture examining its prey. Suddenly, he moves forward, and cups her face in his hands. Her body goes absolutely still, and she looks into his wide, pale eyes, but he's looking upwards – to her forehead. Her hands shake.

The man touches a fingertip to the lightning bolt-shaped scar on her forehead, and then traces his finger along its shape. "Curious," he mutters, still holding Aralynn's face close to his, "how very curious."

"Sir?" her raspy and dry throat croaks. "What's curious?"

"I have been wondering when I would be seeing you in my shop," he answers and releases her face as gently as possible. "I have been awaiting your arrival for quite a time, Aralynn. I had expected you to come sooner, but it's no wonder that you've passed here on this day, at this hour."

Aralynn furrows her eyebrows, not understanding what he means. She opens her mouth to ask what he means, but then her mind suddenly switches courses. "How did you know my name?"

"You're no secret from me," he says, going behind his desk to shuffle through items on the shelves below. "I know exactly who you are, but you may not fully understand that quite yet. That was to be expected."

She watches the top of his wild white hair move from behind the counter as he continues to rummage through his things. "I don't understand what you mean," she admits. "What is it that you mean, sir?"

"Ollivander," he corrects. "My name is Garrick Ollivander, and you may call me as such, Aralynn. We will be great friends, you and I."

"I'm sure," she replies quickly. "Mr. Ollivander, what did you mean? That it's no wonder I've come here on this day, on this hour?"

"In time, child," he replies. "You will know in time."

"That doesn't help me now…"

"Why are you here? Ah, yes, of course! Your wand! Come, child, we'll find the perfect wand for you," he says and vanishes into the disarray of his shelves. She peeks around the corner, and listens to him toss boxes back and forth, turn over the already turned boxes, open some, close some, and shove them out of his way. "Here," he says as he reappears. 'Try this one. It is a ten-inch acacia wand, and its core is hair from the tail of a unicorn, and it is slightly yielding: a fine wand to have."

Aralynn takes the wand as he hands it to her. She holds it in her hand, looking down at it with a dumbfounded expression. "What do I do…?"

"Oh, yes, yes!" Ollivander waves his arms eccentrically, "give it a wave."

She looks down at it skeptically, but gives it a small flick. The flick of the wand causes the chandelier hanging from the ceiling to come crashing down and onto the floor. Aralynn stumbles backwards, staring at the chandelier with a horrified expression. "I'm sorry!" she halfway shouts. "I'm so sorry!"

He gives a hearty laugh. "Not to worry, child. This happens quite often," he reassures and pulls out a wand of his own. He waves it over the mess, and Aralynn watches as the chandelier reforms and attaches itself back to the ceiling. Ollivander looks to her expression and looks up to the ceiling with her, "extraordinary thing, magic."

"Extraordinary," she agrees.

"Well, this is not the right wand for you," he says and takes it back from her hand. "Worry not, however, we will find you one."

Again, he disappears into his jungle of shelves. When he returns, he has a new wand in his hand. "This one is eight inches, made of cedar, with a dragon heartstring core, and it is brittle. Perhaps this will be the one, yes?"

"Maybe," she nods, taking the wand from him. She stands there with the wand in her hand and presses her lips together. She was apprehensive about this one, but she knew that she wouldn't find the right wand unless she tested it. Nervously, she flicks the wand, and all of the glass in the entire building shatters. She throws her arms over her head to shield herself from the flying shards.

"Definitely not that one!" he exclaims, waving his wand to put the shop back into its former state. Ollivander takes the cedar wand from Aralynn's hand and narrows his eyes thoughtfully. He begins to mutter to himself and once again goes to ravage through his shelves. The girl stands awkwardly, thinking about all of the damage that can be caused simply due to an improper wand.

From between the rows, Garrick Ollivander's voice can be heard, moving back and forth. "Ivy? No, definitely not. Walnut isn't right, either, no. Willow, ah, yes, willow, if only she knew… Holly, perhaps, if she is… Yes, holly may do."

She looks over when Ollivander returns with two different wands. He stares at her expectantly, and she returns the look, as he has been giving her information about the wands this entire time. The man catches on and nods. "Yes, of course," he says, and then offers the one in his left hand. "This is a twelve-inch wand, made of holly. The core is made of Veela hair, and it is very flexible."

The girl sighs, and takes the wand. She swishes it around and causes boxes of wands to go soaring across the room. She drops it immediately and looks back and forth, biting on her lip, studying the damage she has caused. "I'm sorry, Mr. Ollivander."

"Don't apologize, little miss, it's perfectly all right. The wands must be tested in order for it to determine if it is going to work out. You see, the wand chooses the witch, Aralynn, the witch does not choose the wand."

"I see," she says, even though she doesn't quite understand. "What's the next one? Maybe it'll be the one?"

"I somehow believe it will…" he says, then hands it to her. "It is a reasonably supple, nine-inch wand, and it is made of willow."

The girl swallows hard, taking the wand. She holds it in her palm and looks down to it. There is a sense of familiarity with it, but she doesn't quite know how. A breeze swirls throughout Ollivander's shop and rolls over Aralynn's body. The current of air brushes her bangs from her forehead and she looks up to him. "I think it chose me," she tells him.

"Now, that," he begins, "is curious, indeed."

"Curious, sir?"

"Wandlore is a tricky thing, little miss, but we've all understood that the wand chooses the wizard, or, in your case, the witch. However, the best results, as we have observed, comes when there is a strong affinity between wand and witch. The two must connect, but for what reason? That's complex for our understandings. You see, I remember every wand I've ever sold Miss… Weasley, and it is curious that this wand would choose you. There is an affinity between you – a past, and a complexity. Some of which, I do understand, but others… That's left for question."

"I'm… not following."

"It is curious that a willow wand would choose you, but even more curious that this wand would choose you with the core it has."

"Which is?"

"A phoenix feather," he replies, "but a very remarkable feather. The feather inside of your wand comes from one particular phoenix, but why it is curious is because this phoenix gave two others feathers for wands, but only two. It is curious that this wand would choose you when of its brother gave you that scar," he points to the lightning bolt-shaped scar on the girl's forehead.

"My scar?" she reiterates and reaches up to touch it. "I don't understand."

"No," he agrees, "I don't suspect you do, but you will. Mark my words, you will understand, Aralynn, someday, and hopefully soon."

She stares at him for a long time and looks down to the wand, "ah, how much for this?"

"Three galleons," he says.

Aralynn fishes through her pocket and grabs some of the money her father loaned her before entering the shop. She offers the coins to the owner, but he stares at her for a long time. She continues to hold her hand out for him, and soon enough, he takes the coins from her palm and smiles as a 'thank you'. Aralynn nods slowly, thanks him for her wand, and quickly exits the shop. When she's outside, she looks back to it and frowns. How long was she in there? The thought of her being in there to begin with was enough to make her shiver. She turns to see her father and brother still standing there, waiting.

"How was it?" Arthur asks as she approaches.

"Strange," she answers honestly.

"Strange?" Ron repeats.

"You have no idea. He was really creepy, and a little scary."

"Well, what kind of wand did you get?"

"A nine-inch, reasonably supple wand made of willow with a phoenix feather for a core. He said that it was curious that this wand chose me. He said we have a complex connection, and that I'll understand it soon enough."

"What does that even mean?" Ron questions; looking confused.

"I have no idea."

Arthur Weasley, having been listening to the conversation, suddenly bears an expression of concern. He straightens his back and waves to the children. "Come along," he ushers, "we've done most of the shopping, but we still have one more place to go, and that is for Aralynn's pet. So, Little Red, where would you like to go: Magical Menagerie or Eeylops Owl Emporium?"

"Eeylops," she answers. "I think I want an owl."

"The owl emporium it is," he beams and leads them in that direction.

As they walk, Ron nudges his sister. "Are you okay?" he asks. "You've seemed a little bit off since you came out of the wand shop."

"I'm fine," she answers. "I've heard a lot of weird things today, that's all."

"Weird how?"

"It's complicated," Aralynn sighs. "I've had a lot of people treat as someone I'm not, and I can't say I understand why. It's like they know something about me that I'm missing, which is absurd in itself, but, I don't know, it's odd, and making me paranoid. Is there something about myself that I don't know?"

"I doubt it," he shrugs. "They're probably talking about things you don't understand, that's all. You shouldn't let it wig you out. It's probably nothing."

"Yeah, probably," she agrees halfheartedly. "I'm sure it's nothing."

"Well, then, relax. It's fine."

Aralynn nods, giving him a small smile. When they arrive at Eeylops Owl Emporium, she walks inside and glances around. The building is dimly lit and smells strongly of hay. There is a nonstop chain of chirps as she walks throughout it. Owls rest on perches in cages, some fly overheard outside of their cages. How was she going to pick? Was it possible for her to make a connection with a bird?

She continued to look between cages, studying the wide eyes that watched as she walked by. They were unalarmed to a see a human so close to them, but skeptical nonetheless. Aralynn looked into a dark corner to see the outline of a body sitting on a perch outside of its cage. She leaned forward and two dark eyes peered back. The owl shifted forward slightly. It seemed to be mimicking her actions. "Hello," she said softly. "My name is Aralynn. You're a very beautiful bird. I'm going to this magical school, and I need a pet. That's why I'm here. Maybe you could be my pet?"

She couldn't believe she was talking to a bird, but it seemed to understand. It tilts its head as she as she speaks and flies off of the perch, and into her shoulder. She looks up to it, and it looks down to her. "I guess you're willing," she says, carefully making her way to the register.

A female employee looks up from the newspaper in her hands. "Oh, I didn't know anyone was in here," she says. She stands up and looks to the owl on Aralynn's shoulder. "One barn owl," she says to herself as she looks through the pricing pamphlet. "Good luck with him. He's relatively antisocial. He mostly broods in that corner all day and night. We've started to call him 'Incubant,' which translates to 'brooding' in Latin. You can rename him, of course."

Aralynn looks up to the bird and smiles a little bit. "I'm going to call him Archimedes. It seems like a fitting name, doesn't it?"

"Archimedes it is," she agrees, "ten galleons."

The girl bites down on her lip and fishes into her pocket. Though she doesn't have ten galleon coins, she counts out all of her different coins so it would be the equivalent to ten galleons. Aralynn waits as the employee counts the coin. When she's done she looks up and nods. "Right on, you're good to go."

Aralynn gives her a small smile and walks out of the emporium. As she's exiting, she hears the employee call out to them with, "'bye, Incubant! I mean – bye, Archimedes!"

When Aralynn is out of the owl emporium, Arthur smiles at the bird and wraps an arm around her shoulders. "Shall we go home now, Little Red?" he asks, leading his two children down the path. "How would you like to go home: Floo Powder or Apparition?"

"Apparate!" Aralynn exclaims, "let's Apparate."

Arthur nods. "Yes ma'am," he says and gathers everyone and everything together to be touching. Once it seems that everything is secure, he began to focus his mind on their home back in Ottery St. Catchpole, and then they felt as though they were contents being stirred in a glass of water. They open their eyes to see they're home, in a matter of a few seconds. "Gather your things and start packing," Arthur tells him. "Then head to sleep. Hogwarts will be starting soon, and you'll need all of the energy you can get."

The redheaded children nod and begin to trudge everything up the stairs. When they reach the top of the Burrow, they begin to unpack the items from their bags, and then repack them in trunks for their journey to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Aralynn places Archimedes in the cage of their family owl, Errol, but leaves the door open for him to fly freely. She and her brother work together to pack their trunks and remind one another of anything they may be forgetting. Once they had finished, they flopped down on their beds and crawled under the blankets to sleep.

Aralynn finds herself unable to sleep, and turns towards her brother's back. "Hey, Ron?" she calls across the room.

"Hmm?" he grunts in response, curled up on his bed.

"Are you excited to go to Hogwarts?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Do you think it'll be as wonderful as everyone says it is?"

"Yeah," he yawns.

"I don't know," she sighs. "I'm kind of nervous. What if I don't make friends? What if I'm useless with magic?"

"You'll be fine, Ara."

"Ron?"

"Mm-hmm?"

"Do you think I'm someone different than I think I am?"

Ron Weasley opened his eyes and stared at the wall. However, he did not answer. Instead, he pretended to have fallen asleep. Eventually, Aralynn sighs in defeat and turns to face the wall nearest to her. Soon enough, she falls asleep, but Ron remains awake, watching her sleeping shadow reflected on the wall. Was she someone other than who they think she is? He began to wonder.