The Wand and The Candy

Eleven Years old Lumina:

With her wide eyes, the young girl gazed upon the shelves, where boxes upon boxes were neatly stacked, filled with an assortment of treasures. Her long black hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of darkness.

'Hahaha, my wand. I shall possess my very own wand,' Though she possessed the extraordinary ability to manipulate and ignite objects with her mind, she felt an indescribable thrill akin to a child let loose in a candy store. Before her, an array of open boxes adorned the table, each containing a unique wand.

However, none of them were her fit, to her dismay.

"Hmmm, none of these are quite suitable for you. You require something truly exceptional. Please, follow me to the back," the old wandmaker beamed, extending a hand and gesturing toward the depths of the store. Accompanying her was Professor McGonagall, who remained seated in a corner chair, seemingly disinterested.

'Special? My father always referred to me as special,' she thought, her chest swelling with pride. Brimming with anticipation, she stepped forward and obediently followed the wandmaker, Olivander.

As they ventured deeper into the store, the shelves grew dustier, their contents a testament to the passage of time. The air became saturated with the intoxicating scent of wood and herbs, each breath a delightful indulgence.

'Is this the aroma of magic?'

Abruptly, Olivander halted, locking eyes with her. "Ah, so it truly is you. I had been anticipating your arrival. Your wand is prepared, as stipulated by the pact my ancestors made."

'How long had my father been planning for my life?' she wondered, her joy barely contained at the realization of her father's enduring care, extending even before her birth.

At the end of a solitary shelf, devoid of any other ornaments or markings, rested a solitary box crafted from ebony wood. Its pristine simplicity exuded an enchanting allure, drawing her gaze. The shadows seemed to converge upon it as if guiding her toward it.

Her heart thundered within her chest as she extended a trembling hand towards it. "You are mine. A gift from my father," she whispered, her voice tinged with awe.

As her fingers made contact, a single glossy wand crafted from polished black materials leaped into her awaiting grasp. Instantly, she felt warmth and a surge of power coursing from her hand into the wand. At that very moment, the store dimmed, the air grew warmer, and perspiration dripped down the wandmaker's pallid face.

In a quivering voice, Olivander spoke, his gaze fixated on the wand. "N-normally, I would explain its composition, but even I cannot discern it. The core and all else... it eludes my knowledge."

"I can sense it. This wand is mine," she replied, her smile directed at the wandmaker, though it did little to alleviate his unease. His face remained ashen as if he had beheld something truly terrifying.

Just as she turned to leave, a hand grasped her shoulder. The scared face of the wandmaker, who seemed to age by multiple years, stared right into her dark eyes, "I-i will warn you. This wand... is evil. However, I can also feel there is a light deep within it. Do not let the darkness swallow you before you find the light."

Back in the present:

"Candy?" Dumbledore's cheerful voice rang out as he extended a bright yellow treat to Lumina. However, she politely declined, shaking her head. She was no longer a naive child who would readily accept sweets from a seemingly dubious old man.

Seated in her chair, Lumina struggled to conceal her nervousness. She had already pieced together her father's true identity, firmly convinced that Dumbledore would not approve of her lineage.

"I never anticipated such an event in my lifetime," the elderly headmaster murmured, rising from his seat and pacing the room, his hands clasped behind his back. His bright blue eyes seemed to radiate within the softly illuminated space.

His undertone brought a slight measure of comfort to Lumina, suggesting that he was aware of the possibility she represented and wasn't angry about it. "So, you were aware of this all along?" she ventured, striving to infuse her voice with childlike innocence, even as her armpits perspired from nervousness.

"I am a headmaster and as my predecessor I am aware of the existence of this fifth house..."

"Is there a problem?" Her nervousness peaked, making her want to dart out of the office, but she kept her calm to the outside world, 'I tricked all the doctors... I can get out of this too.'

Suddenly, Dumbledore halted in his tracks, fixing his blue gaze upon her dark eyes. "Of course not. You are merely a child. I can discern the hardships you have faced, and how could I deny you the education and the opportunity to grow alongside children of your own age?"

Confusion etched her features as she asked, "Then why am I here, alone in your office?"

"Arrangements. You are the sole student in your house, a situation unprecedented in our history. It necessitates a unique solution." With a wave of his weathered hand, a single sheet of paper materialized between his fingers. "These are the classes you are required to attend. You may join any group at your convenience. The schedule and locations are listed. The specific group you choose is inconsequential, as long as you attend the classes."

'So, it was just some administrative matters.' Even as she slightly calmed down, she didn't fully drop her guard.

Her eyes scanned the list carefully, and a sense of relief washed over her. 'Just the standard first-year classes from the books,' she thought, grateful for the familiarity they offered.

"Oh, and as for your living arrangements... it may be somewhat complicated. The place has remained sealed for centuries, with neither the living nor the dead having set foot inside."

'Is that all?' Lumina couldn't help but wonder. Perhaps her paranoia had gotten the better of her, but the unsettling feeling still clung to her, refusing to dissipate.