The Wand Shop Sketch

→ I had this posted as part of my first fic, which I removed from the site with the vague intention of rewriting it at some point. Since that's not likely, and I particularly like this chapter, I thought I'd post it as a random one-shot. The premise is that Ollivander sells not only wands, but various other things with which one might cast a spell.

Harry closed the door to Ollivander's shop carefully behind him. He rang the bell, and Mr Ollivander himself walked out from the shelves and stepped up to the counter, speaking in his usual slight Cockney twang.

"Morning, Mr Potter."

"Good morning! Ah, I was standing in Gringotts on Diagon Alley just now, withdrawing funds from my vault, when I suddenly remembered I was in dire deprivation of some manner of device with which to cast spells."

"Dire deprivation, sir?"

"Extensive requirement."

"Come again?"

"Need."

"Ahh."

"Yes. And I thought to myself, one of Ollivander's finest vended crafts will do the trick. So I wended craftily off, and infiltrated your place of purveyance to negotiate the vending of some magic paraphernalia!"

"Come again, sir?"

"I want to buy something to cast spells with."

"Ohhh."

Anyway.

"Who said that?" Ollivander asked. "Nevermind. Well, you've come to the finest magic focus shop in the district. Our trinkets, gizmos and other focuses simply have to be seen to be believed, sir."

"Well in that case, my good man, a focus item please."

"Yes, certainly sir, and what would you like?"

"Well, how about a nice medallion?"

"I'm afraid we're fresh out of medallions, sir."

"Never mind. How are you on sceptres?"

"Never at the end of the week sir, I always carve them fresh first thing on Monday."

"Tish tish. No matter... um... a scrying glass, then, if you please, stout yeoman."

"...Ah. Well the frames have been on order for two weeks sir, I was expecting to be able to make a new batch this afternoon."

"Yes, it's not my day, is it," Harry sighed. "Ah... staves?"

"Sorry."

"Talismans?"

"Normally sir, yes!"

Harry brightened up.

"...But this month my shipment of griffin feathers was rotten."

"Ah. Luck charms?"

"Sorry."

"Orbs?"

"No..."

"Any Norwegian dreamcatchers?"

"No..."

"Enchanted arm bands?"

"No..."

"Canes?"

"No..."

"Torcs?"

"No..."

"Crystals?"

"No..."

"Tikis?"

Ollivander scratched his head, thinking, for a few seconds. "...No..."

"Tokens?"

"No..."

"Any jewel-encrusted canopic jars?"

"No..."

"Globes? Runed swords? Spyglasses? Crowns? Pointy sticks?"

"No... No..." Ollivander shook his head as Harry rattled off possibilities.

"Necklaces?"

"Ah! We do have a necklace, sir."

"You do! Excellent!"

Ollivander looked shifty. "It's... er... it's a bit heavy, sir."

"Oh good, I like them heavy!"

"Well... as a matter of fact, it's very heavy, sir."

"No matter, no matter! Hand over le collier s'il vous plait."

Mr Ollivander drummed his fingers nervously on the counter. "I think it's heavier than you'd like it, sir."

"I don't care how excrementally heavy it is," Harry said firmly, 'Hand it over with all speed."

"Er, yes sir." The wandmaker looked under the counter. "Ohhhhh! Oh dear."

"What."

"It's been eaten by termites."

Harry looked like he was controlling his temper. "Has it."

"Yes sir."

Harry gave him a long stare. "Brooches?"

"No..."

"Luckstones?"

"No..."

"Magic hairpins?"

"No..."

"Palantirs?"

"No..."

"Lockets?"

"No, sir."

Harry rocked back and forth on his heels. "You do have some magic focuses, do you?"

"Well certainly, sir! It's a magic focus shop, sir. We've got-"

"No, no no no, don't tell me! I'm keen to guess."

"Fair enough."

"How about a... hmmm..." Harry pondered deeply for several seconds. "...rod?"

"Yes sir?"

"Splendid! Well, I'll have one of those then please."

There was a long pause.

"Oh! I'm sorry sir, I thought you were referring to me. Roderick Ollivander. Rod for short."

There was another long pause, in which Harry's teeth could be heard grinding.

"Circlets?"

"No..."

"Ioun stones?

"No..."

"Jewelled poles?"

"No..."

"Voodoo dolls?"

"No..."

"Any Native American sky totems?"

"No..."

"Czechoslovakian goat's hair headbands, perhaps?"

"No..."

"Lesser Assyrian death masks?"

"Not today sir, no..."

"Well, let's keep it simple. How about... wands?"

"Well," Ollivander exclaimed, "I'm afraid we don't get much call for them around these parts, sir."

"Not much- not much- they're the most popular focus items in the world!"

"Not round these parts, sir," Ollivander smiled.

"And pray, what are the most popular focus items 'round these parts'?"

"Amulets, sir."

"I see." Harry spat out the words.

"Yes sir, they're quite staggeringly popular in the magical quarter, squire."

"Are they."

"Yes, sir. They're our number one seller."

"Are they."

"Yes, sir."

"Amulets, eh?"

"Right."

Harry sighed. "Okay, I'm game... Have you got any, as the actress said to the priest, expecting the answer 'no'..."

"I'll have a look, sir." The wandmaker didn't move, but tilted his head to look at the shelves. "Nnnnnnnnnn...no. Nope."

Harry's brow creased. "It's not much of a magic focus shop, is it?"

"Finest in the district, sir."

"And what leads you to that conclusion?"

Mr Ollivander looked about uncertainly. "Well... it's very clean."

"Well it's certainly uncontaminated by magic focuses, I'll grant you that."

Ollivander looked embarrassed for a brief moment. "You haven't asked me about... diadems, sir."

Harry looked at the old man appraisingly. "Is it worth it?"

The wandmaker winked. "Could be, could be."

"Okay." Harry coughed. "Have you got any diadems?"

"No."

"No, that figures. No, it was pretty predictable really, it was an act of pure optimism to pose the question in the first place..." Harry drew his breath in through his teeth. "Tell me something... do you have any magic focuses at all?"

"Yes, sir." Ollivander seemed surprised that he would even pose the question.

Harry nodded, steepling his fingers. "Now, I'm going to ask you that question once more. And if you say 'no', I'm going to shoot you through the head. Now. Do you have any magic focuses at all?"

"No."

Harry drew his a pistol and shot the man. "What a senseless waste of human life."

Author's notes:

→ Disclaimer: the Cheese-Shop Sketch and Harry Potter are the intellectual property of Monty Python and J K Rowling respectively.

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