Prelude to Destiny

Chapter Ten

Survivors

The hospital bustled with activity. Healers rushed up and down the hall all day. Not that Lily interacted with them; she remained in her sickbed as trained Aurors wasted time standing outside her door, "protecting" her. It wasn't as if she was anyone important, or anyone likely to be attacked, they just liked putting on a big show of protecting the survivors of the Ball. Lily suspected that if the Ball had invited regular guests this would not be the case, but as only the most prominent and important people in society attended the Ball, it made sense. Too bad Lily was neither prominent nor important.

After the attack, Lily's parents were escorted to the hospital as quickly as possible and remained there for days. It was a big deal - they were apparently the first Muggles to gain access to the building in years, a triumph for the Muggle Rights Act. Not that Lily cared about that at the time. All she cared about was the fact when she woke up with a splitting headache, terrified and screaming as much as her voice would let her, her mother had been there. The room had been sterile-smelling, completely foreign, and dimly lit. With the memories of hexes and curses flying around in Lily's head, she could not express her gratitude for her mother's comforting hand. Her parents calmed her down, let her know she was safe, hugged her too tightly, and cried as they told her a man was coming who could explain everything to her.

So now Lily sat staring at the Aurors stationed at her door while the Ministry official spoke to her like she was a child.

"When you arrived by Portkey you landed in a place called the Crystal Ball. It was a pretty room, wasn't it? You weren't supposed to be there, really. You were a guest of an important family. I want you to tell me what happened between that moment and when you left."

"Starting when?" Lily asked, still not looking at the man, only wishing that he would leave and deciding that the fastest way to rid herself of him would be to answer his questions.

"The moment you arrived."

"Well, we were greeted by the hostess and shown to-"

"Do you remember the name of the hostess?" interrupted the balding man.

"No."

"Was it Marissa?"

"I don't remember," repeated Lily, irked that he wouldn't listen.

"Was it Clara?"

"I really don't remember."

"All right," he said, making notes on his parchment. "What happened next?"

"Christian and I sat at the table, we drank some water, and I met Mrs. Crouch--"

"Cordelia Crouch?" asked the man in an urgent tone-- so urgent that Lily looked over at him and decided not to be bothered by his second interruption. Beads of sweat were dripping down the side of his face. He was so very, very gross.

"Yes, Cordelia Crouch."

"You remember her name and yet you don't remember the name of the hostess?" asked the man, taking frantic notes as though Lily had given away some large secret.

"Well, the hostess only showed me to my table. I spoke with Mrs. Crouch at length."

"You did?" The quill stopped moving as his disproportionately large eyes looked up at Lily.

"Yes."

"You spoke at length with Cordelia Crouch?" The incredulity in his voice would have driven Lily batty if she weren't trying so hard to keep calm for her parents. They did not really understand anything about the hospital or the Ministry of Magic, and Lily did not want them to think badly of either one.

"Yes, why? Did something happen to her?" A pang of fear ripped through Lily at the thought, but she quickly brushed it aside and replaced that feeling with denial. Nothing had happened to Mrs. Crouch. Nothing had happened to Mrs. Crouch. And then a thought struck. "And what about Christian? Is he all right?"

"I can't discuss a pending investigation with you," the man replied, sitting up and straightening his parchment.

"What pending investigation? I only want to know how they are," Lily snapped at him.

"They were at the Ball," he said condescendingly.

"What does that have to do with anything? I was there too. How are they?" Lily asked, urgency evident in her voice though she tried to hide it.

"I can't discuss a pending--"

"I heard you the first time. I just want to know what happened to them!"

"Is this because you allege to know these people?"

"Allege?" asked Lily, moving to stand up. Lily's mother and father, who both sat beside Lily on the side of the bed opposite the Ministry Official, tried to stop her movement, but she shrugged them off and sat up straighter, only to have a sharp pain in her chest cause her to cry out in pain and sink back into the bed.

"Lily?" her mother exclaimed. "Are you all right?"

Shaking her head as she clasped her hands over the pain, Lily closed her eyes to try and block out the pain. A Healer rushed over, pushed Lily's parents aside and executed several spells. Each one lessened both Lily's pain and her awareness. After a few moments breathing regularly - her mother's hand gripping hers, her father pouring her a glass of water - the Ministry Official spoke up.

"Are you calm enough to continue the questioning?" the irritating man asked.

"Are you ready to tell me what happened to Mrs. Crouch and Christian?" Lily replied, mimicking his tone. She was angry with him for avoiding the question, worried about Mrs Crouch and Christian, and deeply frustrated by the amount of pain her body was enduring.

"I told you that I cannot discuss a pending investigation."

"Then I cannot continue to discuss this with you," interrupted Lily, beyond the point of caring about manners and politeness.

"We can skip to the end of the questions," the man said, as though arranging a large compromise, "if you tell me who hurt you so badly."

"They couldn't have hurt her too badly," protested Mr. Evans. "She hadn't a bruise on her body when we saw her, only hours after the incident."

"You're a Muggle. You don't understand--"

"I understand enough to know that my daughter only wants to know the condition of her friends and that you refuse to tell her how they are," retorted Mrs. Evans.

"I must follow protocol," the man replied, irritation growing in his voice, which only served to irritate Lily.

"Protocol?" Lily said. Why wouldn't he just tell her if they were hurt? No. No. She refused to think that they were anything other than perfectly healthy as she blinked back tears.

"Yes," he said. "I cannot discuss these matters with a potential accomplice."

"Accomplice!" shrieked Mrs. Evans. "Are you mad? My daughter is seventeen years old!"

This man thought she was one of the hooded figures? The Ministry thought she could have caused this trouble, hurt all those people? Faked this pain in her stomach and chest that were beginning to ache again? What was going on? Why was the room spinning? Why couldn't she hear anything? Was Christian all right?

During her panic attack, Lily did not see the same Healer running up to her and hitting her with a calming charm. Nor did she register the Sleeping Draught that she was forced to drink.

~*~*~

When Lily next opened her eyes, her parents were not by her side. Even the Ministry official was absent from her room. In their place was a woman in dark tailored robes with impeccable posture. The room was only dimly lit, but as Lily sat up in her bed, torches in four spots around the room flickered to life and that same, damn pain in her chest caused Lily to gasp.

"Are you all right, Miss Evans?" asked the woman, leaning forward and reaching out for Lily with her left hand. Lily pulled the sheets to her neck as she sat up and avoided the woman's touch.

"Who are you? Where are my parents?" Lily questioned, feeling dazed after the affects of the Sleeping Draught and the pain that no Healer came to alleviate.

"My name is Diana Brooks and I am Head of the Auror Department in the Ministry of Magic." Lily sat up higher, wincing slightly at the pain, and the woman pulled her chair closer.

"Where are my parents?"

"They're sleeping in the room adjacent to this one."

"Where?"

"One room over to the left," replied Ms Brooks, pointing. Lily's eyes followed the finger and saw only a wall.

"Why aren't they here?" Lily asked, her tone was quieter, less accusatory.

"Because they needed their rest as much as you needed yours."

"Why didn't they stay here?"

"Your parents - especially your father - were very suspicious of the potion the Healer gave you. They grew more worried when they could not wake you, and they called out to the Aurors at the doors that the man drugged you. They immediately took the official into custody. When the entire story was told and understood, it was decided that we would give your parents some of the Draught, as they were obviously suffering from lack of sleep after the days they spent by your side."

"And it was decided that they needed to be in a different room?" Lily asked, suspicious.

"It was assumed that they would be more comfortable in individual beds."

"And why are you here?" Lily asked, unnerved by this uninvited guest, bothered that her parents weren't beside her, and tired of her ribs hurting each time she took a breath.

"I'm investigating what happened at the Crystal Ball." The memory of the previous investigating Ministry Official was not a pleasant one. Lily did not want a repeat of that experience.

"I've already spoken to a man about it," Lily said stiffly.

"Yes, and that man is an imbecile, sent by a politician to give your story the right spin," said the woman as she leaned back in her chair. Barely digesting that information, Lily looked at the clock on the bedside table and saw the time to be eight-thirty, presumably in the morning.

"If he already has his spin, why did they send you?"

"They didn't. I came because two Aurors died that night, and I want to know what happened."

"Died?" Lily asked, shocked.

"Yes," she replied. "And I need to know what you saw in order to construct the most accurate account of the night." She took a moment to measure Lily's physical health, but Lily did not notice. Instead, she saw spells hurtling toward her, about to send her into a table. She shuddered.

"I didn't know anyone died," Lily said,

"It's classified information, another reason your parents are resting in a different room."

"But if people were killed, people ought to know."

"The families know. For now, that has to be enough," said the woman. Her tone reminded Lily of Professor McGonagall during prefect meetings.

"But that means the killer is extremely dangerous. People need to--"

"I don't disagree with you, Miss Evans, but the Minister of Magic does," explained the woman. Then her eyes locked on Lily's and without changing her tone, she said, "I want to know what you remember about what happened."

"Will you tell me what happened to Cordelia Crouch and Christian Knowles?" Lily pressed.

"They are both relatively healthy. Mrs. Crouch suffered a broken ankle. Mr. Knowles had minor bruises and cuts."

Lily sighed in relief relaxing against her pillows and unwilling spilled a few tears. "Good," she muttered, wiping away her tears. "But are you sure you're thinking of the right people? How do you know their injuries?"

"You're one of the last to wake. All of the others asked similar questions about their loved ones. I know about most of the injuries incurred at the Ball," she replied.

"The Ministry Official refused to tell me what happened to them," Lily said, composing herself. "He said he was not allowed to talk about pending investigations and that I might be an accomplice."

"The man you spoke with has no official tie to the investigation. He was never given a list of suspects. You were not and never have been under the investigation of the Auror Department, Miss Evans," the woman replied. Her brusque voice assured Lily as much as her words.

"All right," said Lily, wiping away the last of her tears and then locking eyes with the Auror Director. "Where do you want me to begin?"

"For the record," Ms. Brooks began, setting a piece of parchment and quill at the foot of Lily's bed, "please state your name and age."

"Lily Evans. Seventeen." The quill moved on its own, scratching across the parchment. The director looked over the parchment, nodded and turned back to Lily.

"How did you prepare for the evening?" asked Ms. Brooks.

"I went to my friend Tracy's house," began Lily. The quill moved in time with her words.

"What is her surname?" prompted Diana Brooks, eyeing the parchment before looking back at Lily.

"McGrath. She lives a few minutes from me, and was holding a party that night."

"Thank you. Please continue."

And so Lily recalled what she could of her New Year's Eve. She talked about Tracy's party and then walking home with Sam. She recounted waiting for Christian and learning about cars that drove themselves. She even remembered to complain about the cushioning charms in her shoes.

"After the car ride, Christian and I left the car and were in the middle of a creepy, dark alley. For a moment I thought he was insane, wanting to take me into that, but then the car drove itself off and I didn't want to be left alone, so I followed him. Then that freaky host showed up and terrified me." Lily paused, trying to remember the correct sequence of events.

"What do you mean 'freaky'?" asked the director. Lily tried to remember but couldn't quite articulate what she saw.

"He appeared out of nowhere, which scared me and my basic Muggle common sense. Plus, he had the strangest eyes I've ever seen. They were glazed, like he couldn't see anything. He blinked into and out of focus. It was like he was looking through me sometimes." Ms Brooks nodded and motioned for Lily to continue.

"Scared, I drew my wand on him. Christian was horrified and wanted me to put it down, but there was something wrong with him," Lily said, trying to explain. She did not want this woman to think she was some sort of trigger-happy teen, wanting to curse anything and everything in sight.

"How did the man react to your threat?"

"He hardly reacted at all; he told me the Auror Director had drawn her wand faster. Oh! That was you, wasn't it?" Lily asked. When Diana Brooks shook her head, Lily looked questioningly at her.

"Miranda McCloud, my predecessor, died that night." Ms. Brook's tone never changed, but Lily looked at this woman and was filled with pity for her.

"I'm so sorry."

"Please continue your story," said Ms. Brooks.

The rest of the story came quickly, leading up to the conversation with Mrs. Crouch.

"Cordelia Crouch?" the Director asked in a break in the story as Lily painfully reached to her nightstand to grab the glass of water on it.

"Yes," replied Lily, still trying to get the drink.

"That's why you asked about her when you woke?" the Director pressed, flicking her wand and levitating the water into Lily's outstretched hands. Careful not to spill any on herself, Lily nodded and took a sip.

"The Ministry Official kept asking about her. He didn't seem to believe that I spoke with her," Lily said, lowering the cup onto her lap.

"Many believe that Mrs. Crouch's husband is in line to become the next Minister of Magic. I'm sure the Official doubted that the Crouches were seated at your table," the Director explained, but Lily understood that it was also a question and explained about Mrs. Crouch sitting with friends and then talking with Lily while Christian danced.

"If I ask her, Mrs. Crouch will corroborate your story?"

"Yes, and if you speak with her before me, please tell her I'm sorry about shoving her," Lily interjected, lifting the cup back up to her lips - an action which kept her from seeing the questioning glance that crossed the Director's mien.

Once she finished with the cup, the Director floated it over to the nightstand and Lily began her story again. She spoke about dancing with Christian, noticing how few guests had arrived, and then making her way back over to Mrs. Crouch's table as Christian wandered away to do some work.

"Work? What work?"

"I don't know," Lily replied, shrugging her shoulders and almost doubling over in pain because of that simply action. "Christian and I broke up in August and we haven't kept in touch very well. I don't even remember if he mentioned the name of his friend."

"You broke up and yet he asked you to be his escort?"

"Yes."

"Were you friends?"

"No. Not particularly." Once more, the Director seemed thoughtful before motioning for Lily to continue. It bothered Lily. Why did the Director care if she and Christian were friends? Lily retold the story of the sudden arrival of the robed men, and for the first time in the long conversation, Director Diana Brooks interrupted.

"Death Eaters," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"The robed men, they call themselves Death Eaters."

"What a horrible name," replied Lily as she tried to understand the purpose of such a vicious title. "And they were cowards, wearing masks, not wanting to own up to their choices."

"Yes, they are," agreed Brooks.

It didn't take long for Lily to finish her story after that. She spoke of shoving Mrs. Crouch toward her table, casting the Shield Charm, being hit by a few curses that threw her back into a table, and then waking up in the hospital. She couldn't remember anything in between those two moments, no matter how hard she tried.

"When you were thrown against the table, you knocked into a group of wizards using one of the last Portkeys. Mr. Jones, the Director of Magical Justice, grabbed your wrist," explained Ms. Brooks. "Unfortunately, he grabbed you at the moment of departure. The resulting force cracked your wrist into three pieces."

"My wrist?" asked Lily, looking down at her wrists and not noticing any significant difference.

"Yes. Your injuries were extensive."

"But my father and mother said--"

"Your father and mother are Muggles, Miss. Evans. If they looked at your school, they would see rubble. What makes you believe they could see all the ways you were hurt?" That silenced Lily and made her feel a pang in her heart as she felt yet another brick being added to the wall that separated her from her Muggle roots.

"How badly was I hurt?"

"You remember nothing of being brought here?"

"No. One moment I felt pain as I hit the table and the next thing I remember, my parents were beside me and I was in this bed hurting. I hurt so much and I felt like I was choking. I kept trying to say something, anything. I yelled for my wand, but I couldn't make a sound."

"You slept for three days as the Healers worked on you. This is your fourth day at St. Mungo's."

"Four days?"

"Your parents arrived on the first day, but Healers work first on the most obvious injuries, covering and healing them. All Muggle signs of trauma were hidden. But your injuries were extensive: you broke your left leg and fractured you left shoulder; your right elbow was shattered, what the Healers claimed was the result of blunt trauma; pieces of wood from the splintered table were lodged in your back; and three of your ribs had cracked, one puncturing a lung. To ensure your safety as they worked on the internal bleeding and punctured lung, the Healers gave you massive doses of Sleeping Draught and Pain Relief Potion."

Lily looked at the woman sitting in front of her. Ms Diana Brooks was a fit woman, filled with muscles from running and an intense stare that scared Lily. How did she know all about Lily's injuries? How did she know things that even Lily didn't? Could Lily believe this woman, trust her to tell the truth to a girl she did not know?

"I had no idea," Lily said.

"You were asleep." But Lily shook her head, hating that she could not know her body well enough to know what had happened to her. She hated that she had not recognized the strange pains in her body as coming from broken bones and punctured insides.

"What happened at the Ball after I left?" Lily asked, determined to think about something else. Diana Brooks leaned back in her chair and gave Lily a shrewd look, asking with her eyes if Lily was strong enough to hear the truth. Lily squared her shoulders and met the woman's gaze.

"Most of the other witnesses woke before you and we have their accounts, but they still conflict in some areas," cautioned the Director. Lily nodded for the woman to continue.

"From what the other witnesses have said, four groups of Death Eaters herded guests into the corners of the room as a smaller band of them fought off any magical attacks the guests might have thrown. That coincided with the casting of your Shield Charm. Yours was the brightest of the Shields; it attracted the attention of that group. You were attacked and eventually hit by a hex that threw you into a table. Mr. Jones grabbed you and you left. Moments before that, the Aurors stationed at the Ball had evacuated all important personnel, including Mr. Crouch and his wife."

"Good," Lily said, sighing. "Then what happened?"

"This is where the stories diverge. Many escaped by Portkey, but two-dozen guests remained locked in the room. In some cases it was because they sent their family ahead, but in the case of the Prewetts, it was because their Portkey had not recharged yet."

"They must have been the people I saw arrive as we left the dance floor," Lily said, thinking aloud.

"They arrived late and were the apparent targets of the attack. When You-Know-Who arrived--"

"Who?"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Who? What? I don't know who you're talking about," Lily said, annoyed. Once more Director Brooks's intense stare focused on Lily and after a moment's staring contest, she slightly inclined her head.

"I meant Voldemort," said Ms. Brooks. "Most of the witnesses have preferred that his name not be mentioned."

"That's stupid," Lily murmured, wondering why they wouldn't want to know the name of their attacker. Lily certainly wanted to know how attacked her. Plus, it was confusing to say you know who and expect other people know what you were talking about.

"When he arrived, his Death Eaters--"

"His Death Eaters?" Lily repeated, shaking her head. "I don't understand."

"The robed men you saw arrive are followers of Voldemort."

"I didn't know he had followers. Is it like a cult or something?"

"That would be a very good description."

"So all of those robed men, those Death Eaters, they hate Muggle-borns as well?"

"Yes."

"All right," Lily said. Sure, why not? "Please continue."

"By the time Voldemort arrived, the Death Eaters had already detained the Prewetts. He spoke to them, though no one heard what they said. Then he killed them. Witnesses say Mr. and Mrs. Prewett sat proudly at their table, even as the green light came." The woman's powerful voice caught for a moment, but then she continued. "Luckily, there was a wizard in the room who knew how to disable the wards from within. As Voldemort spoke with the Prewetts, that man asked the other guests to block him from their view. When he disabled the wards, the Aurors came and Voldemort and his followers fled."

"They fled?" exclaimed Lily, her sense of right and wrong flaring up alongside the pain in her chest. "You didn't catch them? You didn't punish them?"

"They were gone by the time we arrived," explained Ms Brooks.

"Couldn't you have traced them, followed them?" Lily asked, her sense of right and wrong horribly upset. This wasn't how things were supposed to happen. The bad side was supposed to lose, be caught and punished. They weren't supposed to escape.

"We tried and were unsuccessful." Now Ms. Brooks' tone irritated Lily. Why was her intensity focused on Lily, why not on men who hurt her and the Prewetts? Why wasn't she doing something instead of lounging about a hospital?

When the door opened, Lily instinctively reached out for her wand on her bedside table, but could not find it. She looked for it briefly, not able to remember a time in the last five years when her wand was not in sight. The man that opened the door was an Auror, announcing the end of his shift. Ms. Brooks nodded to him as Lily continued her search.

"What are you looking for?"

"My wand," Lily replied, distracted for the moment as she leaned forward in order to lift and look under her pillow. The twisting hurt so much that she stopped the effort.

"It was broken at the Ball."

"What?" whispered Lily, turning to face the woman.

"We found it on the floor and took the pieces to Ollivander's hoping for a match with one of the Death Eaters. He identified it as yours. Then we burned it."

"Burned?"

"Standard procedure."

"Standard procedure? You burned my wand!" Lily yelled. Why she cared so much about her wand, why the thought of it broken formed a lump in her throat, why she had to blink to keep back the tears was lost on Lily. It didn't make any sense! When she heard the news of the deaths at the Ball, all she felt was surprise, but when she thought about her wand- her precious wand- broken, it hurt.

~*~*~

"Would you like an ice cream cone before we buy your wand?" Mrs. Evans asked Lily as the pair passed Florean Fortesque's.

"No, thank you," Lily replied. Faith watched her shove her hands in her pockets and lower her head.

The Healers had decided to keep Lily for over a week under their hawk-eyed inspection. Mrs. Evans suspected that the week wouldn't have passed so badly, had Lily been able to receive owls. But as one of the other injured from the "Shattered Crystal Ball," had received a hexed letter, all mail had been stopped.

As there had been over two hundred people at the Ball and only ten had remained in the hospital as long as Lily, Faith thought it was a bit of an over precaution. It wasn't as if her daughter her was someone important.

"Do you want some new dress robes?" Faith Evans tried enticing her daughter when she caught sight of the brightly decorated robe shop.

"Maybe later," murmured Lily. Faith tried to understand.

Faith Evans did not understand her daughter. Normally, Lily would have jumped at the opportunity to buy new clothes, eat sweets, and have her mother pick up the tab. But today she was withdrawn, angry. She understood that her daughter had not wanted to stay in the hospital as long as she had; to tell the truth, Faith would have preferred her youngest daughter to go back to school on time, rather than three days late, but they were the Healers, not she, and so she had acquiesced to their requests.

It hadn't been that horrible, right? Lily hadn't had a mark on her. There was no internal bleeding or casts or needles that needed to be injected. What was Lily so quiet about?

Pushing the door open to the dark old store, Faith had to keep herself from glancing around in wonder at the dust in the room. Why didn't magic ever help with the daily cleaning needs of people?

"Hello, Lily Evans." Faith jumped.

"You scared me!" snapped Faith at the silver-haired, too-big eyed man who had appeared out of nowhere. She vaguely remembered him from their first trek into his store five years earlier, but at that time the store had been filled with four children and their families. The man had been racing between the students.

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander," said Lily, half-smiling at her mother's shock. "I need a new wand."

"Yes. You do. I saw what happened to the old one. Very sad business, to see a broken wand," he said in hollow tones.

"Yes," replied Lily, nodding and trying to fend off a bout of sadness. Faith, not really understanding how much these two people could care about a stick of wood, looked at her daughter with caring eyes and reached out to place a hand on her shoulder. While Lily stood under the protection and care of her mother's hand, Mr. Ollivander blinked his large eyes at Lily and nodded, as if approving her feelings. Then he slipped into the back of the store and returned with an armful of boxes.

"Let's begin, shall we?"

And so they stood together, these three unlikely people: a Muggle mother trying to protect her daughter from a force she did not understand; a man selling children a tool to bend magic to their purpose, whether it be destruction or construction; and a teenager torn between those worlds. They stood and Lily took wand after wand into her hand until, at last, the familiar tingling raced up her arm and a blue bubble appeared out of the end of the wand.

"Ten inches, oak wood, Dragon's heartstring core," Mr. Ollivander recited. Lily nodded her head, pretending like that information was important, but really it meant nothing. "Extremely good for charms and hexes."

"Hexes?" sputtered both Lily and her mother.

"Yes."

"I don't think this is the right wand for me," said Lily, putting the wand on the register desk, shaking her head at it.

"Well, it's the wand that chooses the witch, not the other way around," replied Mr. Ollivander, walking behind the counter and beginning to wrap up the wand.

"You don't understand," pleaded Lily. "I'm no good at hexes. That wand isn't for me. I'm more the defensive type."

"The wand thinks differently," said Mr. Ollivander, tying the bow on top of the box before looking expectedly at Mrs. Evans. Faith, for her part, couldn't decide whether she ought to agree with her daughter or the expert. Having a wand that was good at hexes seemed morally wrong and if her daughter didn't want it, why couldn't she have a different one? But if the shop owner said the wand had to choose her...

"The wand is wrong. I got a Troll on my Defence O.W.L. That isn't supposed to even be possible," babbled Lily. She looked wildly around at the shop owner and then her mother, imploring both to understand. Lily did not know why the idea of owning a wand good at hexes terrified her so much; she only knew that she would never use that wand. "Let me pick a new one."

"You can't. Once a wand has picked you, no other wand will," explained Mr. Ollivander.

"If that's the case, Lily, we ought to buy this one. You don't have to hex anyone if you don't want," Mrs. Evans said, opening her purse.

"No! There are other wand stores. Let's shop around a bit."

"There are no other wand shops in England," replied Mr. Ollivander. Lily's shoulders slumped and her head drooped.

"Can't I have a wand that isn't perfectly suited for me?"

"A wizard will never have the same results with another wizard's wand."

"Then we will take this one. I won't have you sacrifice your studies for a wand preference," said Mrs. Evans. Lily struggled to think of another excuse. Maybe she could just start crying. That would surprise both of them and maybe then they would not make her take this stupid wand, this stupid dangerous wand that obviously did not know her at all. Mrs. Evans walked forward and placed an arm around her daughter's shoulders, giving her a half-hug before nodding at Mr. Ollivander and paying the price that he asked.

Lily, glaring at the package the whole while, grabbed it angrily off the counter and shoved it in her purse. Fine. Fine. If Ollivander insisted that she take this wand that was just fine. Lily would simply never cast any hexes. Ever.