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 Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

Ah yes, that fantastic place where the wand chooses the wizard--determining his fate...or merely affirming it? Have a look at some of the creepier quotes from Chapter Five, Book One, and decide for yourself...
It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered aver strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.
"You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."
"Your father, on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration."
"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it...Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands...well, if I'd known what that was was going out into the world to do...Yes, thirteen-and-a half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember...I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter....After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things-- terrible, yes, but great."
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