wands are a girl’s best friend: closed for geraldine ollivander
Truth be told, Safiye had several vanities, but one of her greatest was her wand. It was a beautiful instrument, made of maple wood with a soft pinkish-orange hue and delicate lattice work on the handle. It was worn from years of use, but Safiye went out of her way to maintain its shine and elegance with frequent polishing and regular check ups with a wand expert. She’d first taken her wand to her great-uncle Solak when she was in Turkey, but these days it was more practical to take it into Olivanders.
Over the years she’d become something of a fixture in the dark little shop, coming in about once a month just for a professional to look her wand over. In recent years, Safiye had struck up something akin to friendship with Ollivander’s young assistant, Geraldine. Safiye appreciated the way the girl always handled her wand with great reverence and care. She always had a little bit of anxiety handing her wand over to someone who might not treat it with appropriate care, but that anxiety was substantially less when the someone was Geraldine.
Safiye always made a point of visiting Geraldine after she returned from the Barns, as the annual training camp was the most excitement her wand had all year. After such a workout, she always wanted to make sure that her wand was still in top working order. There was a sort of comforting routine to it, or perhaps ritual. After all, wands and wandmaking was the closest thing to a religion that Safiye had.
“Hello Geraldine.” Safiye’s voice was light and high as she entered, almost in harmony with the tinkling bell over the door. “It’s that time again.”
@geraldine-whoisleft