27 Ollivander's

That night went smoother than I expected, besides the constant gawking and threats I received from just about everyone. Sirius seemed pretty collected about the entire situation, but I would often see his eyes twitch in frustration.

Hearing Harry's story about how his parents were killed in their home and how his mother sacrificed herself so he would live. It honestly hit me pretty close to home. It brought back memories of the rainy night I was brought to camp half-blood, and my eyes misted over before I could stop myself.

I'm sure everyone seen, and I wish my emotions weren't so open for the world. Hermione gripped my hand not fully understanding, but let me know she was there for support which I appreciated.

After that it was my turn to spill my story and although I tried to condense it's contents it was still a long story. I seen some doubtful eyes in the group, but I honestly didn't care. The explanation was not really for these people it was for Hermione. So when she asked questions about something specific I'd go into as much detail as possible.

"So your saying your mother's husband Gabe stunk so bad no monsters could find you?" Fred said with a deadpanned face. But I could tell he was amused by the twitch of his lips like somewhere under his stoic expression was someone who found the humor in my story.

Smiling I nodded. Then I told them all about my mother's attack and how I found myself in a camp hospital bed. Then I went into the basics of the demigod world. when I thought my story was about over they asked us about how I met Hermione, luckily for me Hermione took that story over.

Finally it seemed the entire house was up to date with what was going on, and though they seemed worried this wasn't the first time they had to deal with bad situations. So before long Ms. Weasley started rushing everyone off to bed.

The next morning I was going to see the wizarding world for myself for a change. Since Hermione's wand had gotten snapped, apparently there was only one shop a replacement could be found. The wand that was left on the street yesterday was nearly useless to Hermione due to incompatible material. I honestly wasn't sure what that meant but I decided to go with her to the wand shop out of curiousity.

"I am kinda excited to see Ollivander's where you'll would get the wand." I said entering the owl emporium. Hermione's last owl was killed in a battle with a 'Death eater' and she had been too distraught to think about getting a replacement. Since she was now back in the thick of things she decided she needed to stock up on wizard items, including an owl, potion materials and spell books.

She grinned all day long excited about the idea of the magical world she had left behind and showing Percy the in's and out's of this place.

As soon as Percy stepped into the shop, all the owls started screeching. A young blond witch, quickly calmed them down. "Thank you." Hermione said. "They don't usually do this I wonder why?" The blond said eyeing Percy as she fed some of the owls treats.

The woman nodded. "They tend to do that every once in a while." She looked at me as she said it, and I saw her grey eyes, calculating. Then it hit me. I should've known by how much she looked like her... Athena.

Percy frowned. "Hello, is there something I can do for you?" Honestly, I'm not a rude person, but this particular entity pushed my buttons every time I seen her. When I was with Annabeth I would have to hold my true emotions inside, and attempt to be respectful. But there wasn't really a reason anymore.

Athena smiled. "Which one of you will be needing an owl?" She asked. "I will" Hermione said to the goddess looking thoughtful. "How about this one?" Athena said handed her a white snowy owl with grey flecks and sea green eyes. "Thank you." I said. She smiled. "That would be seven gallions, please." Quickly leaving this place we found our way to Flourish and Blotts for the few books that had Hermione's interest. The whole place was dusty and full of bookshelves. It was several hours later and at least seven scoldings by the shop's employee's for knocking randomly stacked books before we left, much to my relief.

Finally we got to the wand shop I had been anticipating in seeing all day. Suddenly, out of no where, a man popped into existence. "Good Morning, I wondered when you'd stop by." He said mysteriously. "Please, show me your wand arm." Ollivander said

Unsurprised she held out her right hand. The man got a tape measure and started measuring her arm. "Yes, if memory serves me correctly... Hermione Granger your wand was 10¾" long, made of vine wood, and possessed a dragon heartstring core. Hmm... Try this one." He handed her a thin stick. I stood there, not knowing what to do. "Well, give it a wave." The man said impatiently.

After two attempts Hermione had a new wand and the happiness on her face was like a breath of fresh air. "Alright then." I said walking towards the door. Before I was pulled to a stop by the older man. He looked distressed.

"Where are you going?!" Ollivander asked worry etched on his face. "Do you not want your wand... its been calling for you the entire time you have been here!"

"What!" Hermione and I said at the same time. I on one hand I simply thought I'd misheard the older gentlemen, but Hermione was so surprised she nearly lept on top of him in her surprise. "What do you mean, its been calling to him?"

Ollivander blinked at Hermione's words. "Your friend is powerful, and his chosen wand calls out for him to claim it... Do you not hear its song in the air?"

We both shook our heads in denial, which seemed to deflat the senior a little afterwards. "Well..." His wrinkles stretched as he said the words. "Do you want your wand?

At a loss. I looked at Hermione to see her opinion. Seeing her vigorously nodding head he agreed.

After rummaging through the countless boxes he handed me an incredibly dusty box. "Alder, Phoenix feather, 12 1/2 inches, reasonably supple. Alder is an unyielding wood, yet I have discovered that its ideal owner is not stubborn or obstinate, but often helpful, considerate and most likable. Whereas most wand woods seek similarity in the characters of those they will best serve, alder is unusual in that it seems to desire a nature that is, if not precisely opposite to its own, then certainly of a markedly different type. When an alder wand is happily placed, it becomes a magnificent, loyal helpmate. Of all wand types, alder is best suited to non-verbal spell work, whence comes its reputation for being suitable only for the most advanced witches and wizards. It's extremely powerful, hardly any wizard has ever gotten it."

"That discribes you pretty well." Hermione said looking thoughtful.

As I took it, a warm feeling spread though my fingers. I waved it and the smell of the ocean entered the room. "The wand chooses the wizard, Mr Jackson. I'll be expecting great things from you."

With that, he wrapped up my wand and the two of us left.

As we walked out of the shop surprised by the new wand in my hands. When a very familiar figure walked through the crowded streets a half man, half goat, young man. Two horns peeking out of his curly ginger-brown hair, furry goat legs and cloven hooves instead of human legs and feet, and chin was covered with a scraggly beard. "Grover?"