Restoration

Restoration

"Ah! Rubeus Hagrid, I've been expecting you. Oak, sixteen inches, a bit bendy." Mr. Ollivander was standing behind his counter, organizing boxes of finished wands. As always, he associated people with the wands they'd bought from him.

Hagrid stepped into the shop, glanced about nervously, and reached into one of his cavernous pockets and brought out his umbrella, pink and so incongruous with his own shabby clothing. "It's here," he said, setting the umbrella on the counter.

Mr. Ollivander's eyebrows climbed into his hair.

Speaking quickly Hagrid tapped his umbrella, "I can use it fer limited spells, still. Gettin' into Diagon Alley, lightin' fires and the like."

"So it still works, then." Mr. Ollivander pursed his lips and looked speculatively at the umbrella. "Well, Hagrid, I've reassembled wands before, of course. What child hasn't broken a wand or two in his life?" He smiled briefly, and then looked up at Hagrid. "But it would be so much easier if we just outfitted you with a new wand, don't you think?"

"Easier, perhaps, but..." Hagrid paused, looking at the pink umbrella, remembering how he had used it against the bricks guarding Diagon Alley only a few moments before. "But not as satisfying! I lost the rights to bein' a wizard 'cause of a lie. Now, I get a second chance, somethin' not many people get. Only seems right that I use the same wand me Dad bought for me." He reached down, and slid the body of the umbrella apart, revealing the pieces of his wand, which he gingerly took out and laid on the counter in front of the master maker. "With You-Know-Who on the loose, and my old crime bein' expunged, the Ministry's agreed to let me have it back. Between lessons, Professor Flitwick and some o' the other teachers have agreed to teach me; maybe even let me sit in on a few classes, too." He smiled at the thought of sitting at the back of Professor McGonagall's Transfiguration class.

Mr. Ollivander reached under the counter and pulled out a silver plate, onto which he swept the fragments. "Very well. Come back next week, and I'll have it ready for you. If there are any complications, I'll send you an owl."

"A week?" Hagrid had hoped to take his reassembled wand home tonight!

"This is no small task, Rubeus. Snapping a wand in two usually invokes a blocking spell, preventing the owner from ever properly reassembling and using it again. Even you could not make the pieces fit together again, could you?"

Hagrid shook his head, remembering nights of frustration when he had tried to do so in the dark of his cabin, his tears making the pieces hard to handle.

"Like magnetic poles, the pieces resist reassembly after being snapped. I can remove the block, of course, but the task still requires delicacy. Ordinarily such a task would require a month. But," and here he smiled at Hagrid, "you're especially deserving. So, I will see you in seven days."

On the seventh day, Hagrid stepped inside the shop, his heart threatening to leap out of his throat. His hands were damp and he walked unsteadily. Mr. Ollivander was smiling at him, and he put something wrapped in silk on the counter. Hagrid gingerly unwrapped the package and gazed in awe at the object within.

Long and thick, with a polished finish, the wand bore no sign of the cracks and scuffs it had endured in his care. A thick finger reached out and gently touched the surface. It was just as he remembered! Unbidden, the memory came back to him: a young, slightly frightened boy the size of an apple tree, trying wand after wand, until finally selecting the oak one which had caused his entire body to glow like a harvest moon. At that thought, he reached out and picked up the wand. Again, the glow covered his body, so brightly that it caused shadows in the room.

Mr. Ollivander smiled, and clapped his hands. "Another triumph! The wand accepts you, again!"

Hagrid reached into a pocket for a handful of Galleons, and banged them on the counter.

"Rubeus, this is too much." Mr. Ollivander picked out seven Galleons. "This is all I require."

"Take it all!" Hagrid said expansively, clutching his wand. "You've given me my life back!"

Reaching under the counter, the wand-maker handed over a servicing kit, and a small box. "Well then, take these as well."

Hagrid accepted the items, and put them into his pocket. "Thanks! Thanks so much!" He bounded out the door, still looking at his wand.

"You're most welcome." Mr. Ollivander said, smiling. The towering man was like a child, his face brighter than the eldritch aura that had surrounded him. "That...that is what makes the work so worthwhile!"