"Meow~"
Trying his best to behave himself, Tom padded over to stand beside Ollivander, ready to pick out his wand.
"Well then, which paw do you usually use to hold a wand?"
Ollivander held a measuring tape in one hand, looking at Tom with curious eyes—
or rather, looking at the space behind him.
"Or perhaps," Ollivander added, "your tail has already made that decision for you?"
Tom glanced back in confusion—only to find that his tail had quietly curled itself around a wand from the nearby shelf.
"..."
Face burning with embarrassment, Tom snatched the wand away from his own tail and put it back. Everyone knew a cat and its tail were practically two separate beings anyway, so his tail having opinions wasn't that strange… right?
Luckily, Ollivander didn't say anything, though he did shoot a puzzled look at the wand Tom had returned before turning back to him.
After thinking for a moment, Tom extended his right paw. He used both paws pretty well, but if he had to pick one, his right felt more natural.
Seeing that, Ollivander got to work—measuring from Tom's head to his paws, from the tips of his claws to the very end of his tail, and even the distance between his nostrils.
Tom: Σ(っ°Д°;)っ
Why on earth did wand-fitting require measuring his nostrils?!
Thankfully Ollivander didn't make the ordeal last too long. After completing his thorough measurements, he furrowed his brows, then turned to a shelf and pulled out a wand.
"Try this. Acacia wood, unicorn tail hair, seven inches."
Tom had just reached out to take it when his tail swiped in again, snatching the wand before he could grab it.
He took it from his tail—only for Ollivander to immediately pluck it from his paw.
Without a word, the wandmaker swapped it out for another.
"Let's try this one instead. Acacia wood with dragon heartstring. Eight and a half inches."
Again, Tom's tail helpfully delivered the wand into his paw. Again, Ollivander silently pulled it away the moment Tom touched it.
"This one next—acacia wood, phoenix feather, eight inches."
…
After several tries, Tom realized something was off.
He'd tested a whole bunch of wands already, but he didn't feel like he'd really tested any of them. Every time he even barely touched a wand, Ollivander would instantly snatch it back and hand him another.
(ʘᗩʘ?) Something's not right here…
After yet another quick swap, Ollivander stared at Tom with an expression that could only be described as deeply perplexed—as if he were witnessing something that made absolutely no sense.
[Why are all the wands I'm trying made of acacia? And why isn't a single one longer than ten inches?!]
Tom finally protested, holding up a sign.
Never—not in canon, not in any fanfic he'd ever read—had he seen Ollivander make someone test only one wood type over and over!
"Acacia is because of compatibility," Ollivander explained. "As the first cat to ever be admitted to a magic school, I suspected a rare and distinctive wood like acacia would be drawn to you.
As for length…"
Ollivander looked at Tom's "slender" little body.
"Wand size is based on your physical measurements. Your front leg doesn't even reach ten inches. A wand too long would be—"
Ollivander stopped mid-sentence, staring.
Because Tom's front leg had suddenly stretched several inches right before his eyes.
Ollivander: Σ(°Д°)
That wasn't magical—
and it definitely wasn't scientific!
[Well? Can I try longer wands now?]
Before Ollivander could respond, Hannah rushed over, throwing her arms around Tom's magically stretched limb.
"Whoa!! That was magic, right?! Tom, you don't even have a wand yet and you can already use spells?! Can you teach me that trick? If I could do that, I'd make my stomach larger so I can eat more snacks!"
Tom: (＞д＜) Meooow… (Help!)
For the first time, Tom understood the true terror of an overly enthusiastic fan.
Thankfully, Ollivander stepped in just in time.
"In that case… try this one. Cherry wood, veela hair, eleven inches."
Finally not acacia.
If Ollivander handed him one more acacia wand, Tom might've started wondering whether the man was insulting him indirectly.
Relieved, Tom took the wand.
And although Ollivander still snatched it away before he could swing it, at least this time the wand stayed in his paw for a whole two seconds.
[Seriously—what is going on?! Can you at least explain?!]
Tom was reaching the limit of his patience. He'd tried so many wands already—couldn't he get one straightforward answer?
Ollivander hesitated, then finally said:
"Well… how do I put this… Every wand you've tried so far has an excellent affinity with you. Better than most young witches and wizards have with the wand that eventually chooses them.
"Normally, one wand acting like that would already be strange. But every single wand? That completely goes against everything I've learned in all my years of wandmaking!"
From the moment Tom's tail stole that very first wand—
the one Ollivander believed had zero compatibility with him—
he realized something unbelievable:
That wand, which by all logic should've been incompatible, resonated with Tom perfectly.
And the same happened with every wand after.
Every wand adored him.
Every wand bent over backward for him.
Every wand acted like a lovestruck puppy the moment Tom touched it.
As a result—
He couldn't just give Tom any random wand.
Because none of them were truly "choosing" him.
They were simply… trying to please him.
And Ollivander's pride as a wandmaker refused to settle.
Tom, who understood none of this: (°_°?)
What did that even mean?!
How was "being compatible with everything" equivalent to "compatible with nothing"?!
[So what now? Are you going to bring out some heirloom wand your grandfather or great-grandfather left behind?]
Classic fanfiction logic.
Every protagonist seemed to get some super-special ancestral wand from Ollivander's back room.
Honestly, Tom was starting to suspect Ollivander's ancestors had left behind way more unsold stock than anyone realized.
Ollivander: (¬_¬)
"What on earth are you imagining? Wood types and core materials haven't changed in centuries. A wand made with outdated techniques wouldn't be stronger than the ones I craft today."
[Because of the Elder Wand?]
"…I think you should try this one."
Clearly refusing to engage with that topic, Ollivander quickly brought out a new wand.
"Dogwood. Thestral tail hair. Ten inches."
When Tom picked up this wand, Ollivander finally nodded with satisfaction.
Tom didn't feel anything special, but at Ollivander's prompting, he gave it a small wave—
and a soft glow appeared at the tip.
"Aha! Wonderful! Tom, congratulations—you've found your partner at last!"
[But… it doesn't feel any different from the others?]
Tom still didn't understand what set this wand apart.
"Well… there is a difference," Ollivander insisted. "Didn't you notice your magic feels gentler with this one?"
He held up his fingers to demonstrate—though from Tom's point of view, his fingertips looked practically glued together.
Seeing that Tom was about to ask more, Ollivander quickly waved his hands.
"Don't overthink it! Between the two of us, who knows wands better—hmm? Trust me!"
"Meow?"
[All right…]
Tom gave the wand another tentative shake. It still felt a bit off, but Ollivander was the expert. When it came to wandmaking, Tom figured he should defer to the professional.
"…Worst case, I'll just go home and make one myself."
With his crafting ability, building a wand from scratch shouldn't be hard at all.
Thinking that, Tom's eyes curved into a smile—and his tail gave a happy little flick.
Then—
Before anyone could process what was happening—
A bright, warm white light blossomed at the tip of Tom's tail.
Tom: Meow? (･_･?)
And then silence.
Everyone stared.
…
…
---