"The first thing we will be doing is setting down some ground rules." Said Ollivander, which didn't really surprise me, it was the same at every workplace.

"First rule: have fun, the positive emotions will mix themselves with the magic in the air and we will get better results." Interesting, I had already known emotions had a great influence on magic but I hadn't thought it would be relevant enough to be mentioned.

Garrick rubbed the back of his head in embarrassment. "That's actually it, you seem smart and I'll be there to warn you if you're doing anything wrong."

"Follow me." We went into a workshop, I noted from the other doors in the corridors it was in, that it wasn't the only one.

The first thing that caught my attention was the gigantic array of different woods leaning on the walls. The second was the smell, it smelled like a forest, fresh and tantalizing.

"This is where you start, the shape of a wand isn't just important for aesthetic purposes, it is also a factor in the compatibility between wizard and wand."

I looked at him seeking further instruction.

He handed me a knife and told me to get to work, "and no using magic that could mess with the results."

So I did. After four hours I had produced one serviceable stick of wood that looked like it could become a wand, Garrick had more than a thousand of the completed product in his shop. I wondered how long that had taken him? He had probably inherited it.

In the four hours I had been working the old man had produced five wands. His were all of greater quality, and the man had also occasionally sold wands to customers at the shop front.

I only wanted to produce one wand in the grand scheme of things, so I could take my time and try to do the work well. Ollivander was also simply more practised so there was no reason to be jealous.

When he came back he took the wooden stick into his hand and hummed for a bit gliding his spindly fingers all over it.

"It's average, but still very impressive work for someone your age, once you can make a wand of greater quality, I will teach you how to match a wood, length and shape for yourself." He looked at me as if expecting some childish outburst.

"May I have something to drink, I'm kind of thirsty." He chuckled and went to get something.

I started on another wand.

When Ollivander came back he simply took a look at me, floated a glass of cold lemonade next to me and went back to work.

After a while I was told I had worked enough for the day and was given a sandwich to eat while I went home. I smiled at the praise to my work ethic.

"With the pace you're going at you'll probably be able to make your wand in a year, astounding!"

-/-

I heard the door of the leaky cauldron shut behind me as I walked to my apartment, when I reached it, it was to the sight of Bill laying on the floor in a drunken stupor.

Cute.

I leaned in as close to his ear as I could without waking him and opened my mouth.

"HEY BILL ARE YOU FEELING OKAY!"

The poor sod sprang up, stumbled over his own legs fell on the floor and starting barfing.

I took out You-Know-Who's wand and started practicing my summoning charm.

I heard the sound of washing in the bathroom and Bill came into the living room looking like death warmed over. I looked him up and down and shook my head.

"Bill, Bill, Bill, aren't you supposed to be an example to the next generation, what would dear mother say to your behaviour."

"Go eat a gnome, you're older than me and I certainly don't see you being anything more than an obnoxious brat." He managed to spew out, in a astounding effort of sentence building for someone with a hangover. Or did he have a potion against that in the bathroom?

I clutched at my heart theatrically.

"Your words are as toxic as the other substance you just expelled from your mouth. Why must you hurt me this way."

"Do you want me too help with your occlumency a bit before you leave for Egypt?" I asked more seriously.

He adopted a consternated expression I had seen all to often on him in the past days.

"You know what I'm not even surprised you know legilimency okay hit me, read my mind." He said and locked eyes with me deliberately.

I gave him my best sneer.

"The mind is not a book, to be opened at will and examined at leisure. Thoughts are not etched on the inside of skulls, to be perused by any invader. The mind is a complex and many-layered thing, William."

He was simply staring at me with a horrified expression.

"By Merlin, you sound like professor Snape."

As he was distracted by the thought of why I sounded like his former potions professor I whipped out my wand faster than he obviously thought I could and pointed it at him.

"Legilimens"

The only thing I got were vague expressions and some disjointed words before I felt him pushing me out slowly but surely. I started using more of my magic and smashing against his will like hell's own battering ram.

With one grunt of effort he forced me out just as my magic was completely depleted.

I had used legilimency on the ghoul in my old home, but he was primitive and not a great test subject.

After that I had tried it on some garden gnomes and animals I found around the house.

I found it much easier to cast this spell than the summoning charm, maybe because voldemort's wand affinity for it, or I was simply talented at it. I didn't know.

Bill was laying on all fours clutching his head in his hands and barfing again.

Great.

After he got himself under control he stared at me, finally realizing I was dangerous, but happy that I could actually defend myself.

"That was brutal, but you know that I think. I might just get better at defending my mind if I practice attacking, what do you think?" He raised his wand in what for him was probably a threatening gesture, to me it just looked like he was going to poke his eye out.

"Whenever you're ready." I looked him in the eyes and he cast the spell.

Bill was on the floor puking his guts out, between heaves he managed to formulate one word.

"Cheater."

Well you couldn't read my mind through my eyes since my mind was fused with my soul, you would simply find an incomprehensible emptiness that was not at all pleasant. Tough. Better luck next time.