Chapter Text
Ollivander hadn't slept.
Like, at all. How could he? He had about eight thousand tiny wand diaries scattered across his floor, and every single one of them seemed to be trying to get his attention. They were wiggling. WIGGLING. Some of them were even doing synchronized wiggling, which was both impressive and mildly terrifying.
"One at a time," he muttered, grabbing another diary at random. This one was bound in pale wood, looking significantly newer than Riddle's wand's diary.
Property of Holly, 11 inches, Phoenix Feather Core
Re: My Life with Harry Potter
Volume 1 (hopefully of many!!!)
Dear Diary,
OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH OH MY GOSH I GOT CHOSEN TODAY!!!
Okay so like. I know we're supposed to be all dignified about choosing our wizards but COME ON. It's HARRY POTTER. The Boy Who Lived! The Chosen One! The kid with the FANTASTIC tragic backstory (which, like, sad, obviously, but also? DRAMATIC POTENTIAL).
You'll never believe who my core-sister is. No seriously. GUESS.
It's Tom Riddle's wand!!! I mean, technically she's You-Know-Who's wand now, but whatever. WE'RE PRACTICALLY FAMILY! I wonder if she'll teach me some choreography...
Ollivander quickly slammed that diary shut. He was NOT ready to deal with the implications of Harry Potter's wand being a theatre kid too.
He picked up another one:
Property of Vine, 10¾ inches, Dragon Heartstring Core
Re: My Life with Hermione Granger
Volume 1 of... honestly I've lost count
Dear Diary,
I have concerns about my witch's work-life balance. Today she spent SIXTEEN HOURS practicing the swish and flick for Wingardium Leviosa. SIXTEEN. HOURS.
Like yes, good form is important, but I'm getting carpal tunnel here (can wands get carpal tunnel? Must research). At least she's dedicated. Although... whispers I think she might be a bit of a theatre nerd??? She keeps humming songs from Les Mis while studying.
Maybe I should introduce her to Holly. Their humans are friends anyway, and Holly's been DYING to put together a production of Hogwarts: A Musical.
"Oh no," Ollivander whispered. "They're networking."