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Summer is a wonderful time of year for most people; children are outside playing with friends, adults are sunbathing in their backyards during a baking heatwave, or families will be taking a well-deserved vacation abroad. But when it came to ten-to-eleven-year-old witches and wizards in the Wizarding World, Summertime meant something else: they would be getting their letters to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!
Once they’d received their acceptance letters, all children would have to buy the essential equipment required for use in the school. In Britain, there was only one place where they would be able to get all of it — Diagon Alley.
Matthew and his mother, Melanie, took a trip there during August of 2010, roughly a month before the day he’d be boarding the train to Hogwarts. For the young wolf, it was his very first time entering the alley, but he was eager to witness all the magical supplies witches and wizards were shopping for during such a busy time of year. Once they took the main entrance from The Leaky Cauldron, a popular pub attended by magic folk all around, they both went shopping in almost all the stores around the place.
Matthew was flabbergasted by everything he saw: phials and cauldrons for potions in the windows of ‘Mr Mulpepper’s Apothecary’, several children around his age leaving ‘Flourish and Blotts’ with their hands full of books, and toads, bats and several other creatures out on display outside of ‘Magical Menagerie’. Everything else was nothing but a blur; there was so much to take in for such a young wizard who hadn’t been exposed to much magic throughout his childhood.
“Mum? Why didn’t Tony come with us?” The boy asked.
“‘Cuz he’s busy, love,” Mel responded, “and this would’ve been too much for him anyway. He’s still getting used to the whole magic thing.”
Tony was Melanie’s first boyfriend ever since she separated from Matthew’s father, Merlyn. However, Tony was a muggle. He was still grasping onto the existence of the Wizarding World, and Diagon Alley probably would’ve been very overwhelming for him, even more than how Matthew was finding it.
“Right,” started Matthew’s mother, “Gringotts first — then we’ll do some shopping, okay?”
“Okay, mum,” he responded.
After paying a visit down into the vaults of Gringotts, the two began their shopping. Melanie brought out Matthew’s Hogwarts letter and began reading the supplies he required:
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
* Three sets of plain work robes (black)
* One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
* One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
* One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of
each of the following:
* The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
* A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
* Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
* A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration by Emetic Switch
* One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
* Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger
* Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
* The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
* Wand
* Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2) set
* Glass or crystal phials
* Telescope set
* Brass scales
Students may also bring an owl, a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN
BROOMSTICKS.
“Okay, we’ll start with uniforms first, then make our way down the list,” informed his mother before proceeding to cast the extension charm on her handbag to fit all the items in.
After a couple hours went by, Matthew and his mother had acquired almost all the supplies from the stores within Diagon Alley. Melanie had to get just a few more items that were at the bottom of the list; however, one required Matthew to cooperate with the shopkeeper, and only him — a wand.
“Right, Matthew — you head into Ollivander’s while I go and grab the last of the stuff. Take these,” she passed him over ten galleons from her purse, “that’ll be enough for your wand.”
While she headed into Mr. Mulpepper’s, Matthew turned around and walked towards a store that was standing in the corner of the alley, separated from the other shops by its colour. While the others had vibrant colours painted on the outside, this particular one was painted nothing but black, from floor-to-roof. Above the door and curved windows laid a peeling text in gold that read Ollivander’s: Makers of fine wands since 382 B.C. Beyond the dusty windows revealed a single wand resting atop of a faded purple cushion. The upper windows on the second level however, had dozens of boxes stacked onto one another in a messy pile like the building was overflowing with them, as if there was no more room for storage.
A tinkling bell rang upon opening the door, echoing down the tight halls he saw ahead of him. There was no one in sight, the building appeared empty of people, like the place was abandoned. Everywhere he looked had shelves sprawling across the entirety of the shop, each one untidily piled up with hundreds, if not THOUSANDS of narrow boxes; many of which suspiciously looked like their supports underneath had snapped overtime due to the overwhelming weight of the boxes.
“Good afternoon,” out called a soft voice.
Matthew looked ahead and saw the silhouette of someone further at the back of shop, a person with eyes that had an ominous glow as they stared back down at the wolf.
“Oh, hello,” he awkwardly responded. He wasn’t exactly sure how to feel being in there, though he was very much intimidated by their eyes.
He began to hear the tapping of the person’s feet as they stepped closer towards the young wolf, feeling somewhat on edge about how the person was going to look; however, once they had stepped into the light, the shine had disappeared and his worries were somewhat put to rest. Before him stood an elderly owl, with brown feathers, frizzy grey hair, and a gold-like beak; his eyes were no longer glowing and were as black as the dark night sky.
“Mr. Ollivander, I’m guessing?” Asked Matthew.
“Correct,” the owl responded, “and I presume you’re here for your first wand?”
He nodded shyly, unsure of what else to say.
“Ah, yes — another new Hogwarts student. Always a lovely time of year, seeing a new batch of young witches and wizards lining up to acquire their wands for school.”
Matthew’s ears perked up at the mention of Hogwarts, curious as to what he knew.
“Did you go there before?”
“Oh absolutely, a long time ago,” stated the owl, “I was sorted into Ravenclaw house; I remember being quite gifted at Charms and Transfiguration class.”
“Do you think you sold my mum her wand?”
“And who might that be, dear boy?”
“Melanie Churchill?”
“Ahh, you are a Woodward! Then you must be Matthew. Yes, I remember Miss Churchill fondly. I sold her a wand of Hazel with a core of unicorn hair, eleven and three-quarter inches, reasonably supple. She came in with your older brother Marcus two years ago, who favoured a Spruce wand with a dragon heartstring core, ten and a half inches, rather hard…Tell me — which is your wand arm, young man?”
Matthew held out his right arm straight and from around the counter came Mr. Ollivander with a tape measurer, who began measuring him from head-to-toe, shoulder-to-wrist, and hand-to-fingertip.
“As I was saying, it was a shame what happened to your parents. I remember your father Merlyn; Holly wand, twelve inches, swishy, and also had a dragon core.”
Once he had finished measuring, he brought himself back into the tight corridor he originally came down from.
“Now, Matthew — as you may know, each wand has its own core of a magical substance. Here we do unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. It is the wand who chooses the wizard, of course, although it’s not always clear why.”
Shortly after, the owl came back out with a single, reddish-brown box and placed it on the counter. He took the top of it off to reveal a nicely-detailed, sandy-coloured wand with a guard inside before grabbing hold of it to present to the young wolf.
“Here — a Beech wand with pheonix feather, ten and three-quarter inches, pliant.”
He held the handle out to Matthew’s end for him to grasp and then stepped away once he carefully took it, but nothing happened. Matthew was confused as to what exactly should’ve been happening at that moment.
“Give it a wave,” the owl suggested.
He did as he was told, but nothing had happened; he somewhat felt like a fool playing with just a regular old stick he found in the woods.
“Hm, curious,” he mutters to himself, “if I may?”
Matthew returned the wand back to Mr. Ollivander and the owl then turned around to check the boxes on the shelf that were directly behind him, his hand hovering over several before finally landing on one.
“Ah — Redwood with unicorn hair, eleven and a half inches, whippy…”
A new reddish wand with a twisty handle was presented to the boy and he took it, waving it around once he got a good grip; but still, nothing happened.
“That is not your wand, either,” stated Ollivander.
The old owl went to the shelves next to Matthew on the left side of the store, taking a moment to examine the boxes until he eventually summoned one down from high above with the swish of his own wand.
“Right — third time’s the charm, eh? Willow, eleven inches, pheonix feather, fairly bendy. Give this one a go.”
The third wand given to him had that tanned colour similar to the first but a tad darker, this one had markings etched along the shaft, ones which appeared to be runes. Matthew barely had it in his hand for not even three seconds and couldn’t even give it a proper wave before Ollivander snatched it off him.
“Not quite. Not to worry, though, sir — I feel we’re getting closer — much, much closer — hmm, I wonder...”
He made his way back behind the counter and reached down underneath before pulling out a fourth box. This one was navy blue, somewhat dusty, clearly hadn’t been touched for a long time. He blew some of the dust off and upon opening it, Ollivander pulled out the wand and extended it out towards the wolf.
“Perhaps this…”
This wand was a much simpler design compared to the others, very plain. It had a small guard around the top of the handle that could barely even be considered a guard, but it allowed the wielder to get a nice grip on it. It was much darker than the others that were presented previously; the handle was completely black, while the shaft quickly faded into a dark brown as it went further down towards the tip.
Once in Matthew’s hand, he felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. The tip of the wand let off a light-blue glow, causing his jaw to drop. He raised it above his head and swished it around, leaving a stream of blue and white sparks closely behind as spots of light hit the corners of the room, all the while Matthew had the biggest smile on his face.
“Oh, bravo — finally, a perfect fit! How very interesting…”
Shortly after, the familiar sound of the bell rang through the shop and in came Matthew’s mother.
“Wow, Matt! That was amazing!” Cheered Melanie.
“Ah, Miss Churchill! Just in time to see your boy get his wand.”
Before his mum came into the shop, he was about to ask Ollivander a question that had popped up.
“Sorry, but uh…what’s interesting?”
“Ah,” replied the owl. “You see, Matthew, that wand has been in here for a long time. I’ve tried selling it on countless occasions. In fact, I even tried selling it to your father back when he showed up in here at your age, AND your brother. Seems it was destined to be for a Woodward, it just wasn’t for the right one until now.”
All the young wolf could say was, “Wow.”
“Yes — this wand here is made of Laurel wood. Thirteen and a quarter inches, slightly springy, and contains a dragon heartstring core; very powerful. Dragon cores seem to run in the family — if I may?”
Matthew returned the wand to the owl and he proceeded to place it back in the box before wrapping it up in brown paper.
“Still seven galleons, Ollivander?” Asked Mel.
“Indeed, it never changes!”
Matthew placed seven gold coins on top of the counter for the wandkeeper as he passed over the wrapped box, picking that up in return.
“Thank you, sir!” said Matthew gratefully.
“Oh, the pleasure is all mine! And good luck at Hogwarts, Mr. Woodward. I believe the family has a talented wizard in their hands…”
__________________________________________________________________
Ladies and gentlemen, may I present to you Matthew’s first magical experience! I love this pic SO much, it was a blast getting this pic done along with writing the story, and JB did a flawless job at drawing young Matthew <3
This ADORABLE pic was done by 
Jailbird
patreon.com/matthewwuffy
Wanna support me AND see more art and stories of Matthew in the future? Consider supporting me on patreon.com/matthewwuffy Category Story / Fantasy
Species Unspecified / Any
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File Size 160.2 kB
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