Author's Note – I know, I know. I said I wouldn't be doing any Harry Potter fanfiction, and here I am writing some. Credit goes to my sister for the idea. I found a dreadful old story scribbled down in a mildewed notebook, and realized that, however abysmal her writing may have been back then, the premise was quite good. With her permission, I'm re-writing it in a form that other people can enjoy. This story is told from the view of the younger Olivander, from bits of the journal he kept through his adolescent years. Reviews are appreciated.

Disclaimer – Trenton Lee Stewa – oh, gosh. I guess I'm pretty used to writing Mysterious Benedict Society stuff, evidenced by the fact that I just tried to put in a Mysterious Benedict Society disclaimer. Let me correct that. Trenton Lee Stewart, like me, doesn't own Harry Potter. JK Rowling, unlike me, does.

~Every Wand~

"I remember every wand I've ever sold."

Mr. Olivander, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone

Day One

Today was my first day as Mr. Pasternack's apprentice! I'm so excited! After seven years of training at Yewbranch University, it's wonderful to be actually working on making wands. At the university, we mostly studied wand lore and the making of wands; reading about them instead of actually making them. Not anymore! Mr. Pasternack said that I get to start making wands tomorrow. Squaggle Street (the street where Pasternack's shop is) is so different from Diagon Alley back in England! It's still pleasant (though not really entirely to my liking), but the atmosphere is just… different. Perhaps it's the Russian. It's such a fluid language, and it makes everyone seem placid even if they're screaming mad. The accent can make my master a bit hard to understand, but I'm adjusting. I look forward to making my first wand tomorrow!

Day Two

Today was terrible. I thought that I would be making wands today, but instead all I got to do was choose good wood. I spent the entire day digging through a pile of branches looking for a good piece of wand wood. When I finally found the perfect one – a nice piece of cherry – the entire day had passed and it was time for me to retire to the flat above Mr. Pasternack's shop. Well, maybe I'll start wand making tomorrow.

Day Three

Hooray! I finally started making a wand! Today I started shaping the wood. It turns out that spending all that time choosing my wood yesterday really paid off. That piece of cherry is quite magnificent. It takes forms so easily. It feels like the wand is coming alive, even though I haven't even cored it yet. Mr. Pasternack says that I'll get to that tomorrow. I wonder what core I'll use?

Day Four

I have a girlfriend! I was just walking to lunch when I met this beautiful girl just a few months older than me. We really hit it off. She's a pure-blood from England just like me. She came here to visit a cousin and was just heading off to lunch. I offered to pay it for her, and she graciously accepted. Then I took her to see a muggle movie. We had so much fun! I'm going to have lunch with her again tomorrow. Of course, I didn't get to coring the wand I'm making. Mr. Pasternack was very angry that I was so late.

Day Five

Today was wonderful! I finally cored my wand. I still have to apply Virenott's Fast-Dry No-Scratch Wand Finish, but I'm very pleased with how it's turned out so far. I carved a few leaves at the base of the handle and cored it with the very finest sphinx tooth Mr. Pasternack had in his supply cabinet. Lunch with my girlfriend was nice, but I couldn't really spend much time.

Day Six

I'm so excited! And a bit scared, too. Today, after I finally finished my wand, Mr. Pasternack put it into the shop. No one's so much as tried it out yet, but it's still the first wand that I've ever made, and it's already on the shelves. Eep. I spent my evening trying to calm my nerves with my girlfriend.

Day Seven

No one's bought my wand so far, though a little Russian boy blew up a bookcase with it. It wasn't the wand for him. I started another wand today. More digging through wood scraps. I finally found a good solid piece of ash that I'll use. My girlfriend and I tried to arrange a date, but she had to go see her cousin.

Day Eight

Today I sold my first wand! Cherry, thirteen and a quarter inches, quite resilient. At ten in the morning, a young girl named Chloe Patterson came through the shop and happened upon my wand. She waved it, and a lovely little snatch of music came flying out. It was the most exhilarating thing I'd ever done! Mr. Pasternack told me that I'll have to try not to vibrate with excitement when customers come. This night during the play my girlfriend and I went to, 'The Pheonix's Tamer,' I just couldn't keep my mind off of that lovely wand I sold Miss Chloe Patterson. Cherry, thirteen and a quarter inches. Cherry, thirteen and a quarter inches. Quite resilient.

Day Nine

Merlin's socks, business was slow today. I think only one person came to the shop, and she was an awful old German hag who didn't have a word of English in her. I had to help her find a wand using charades and pointing at things, because Mr. Pasternack wasn't around. I spent the rest of the day finishing up another wand and starting to select another section of wand wood. My girlfriend wanted to go to dinner with me, but I had to cancel. Too much work to be done here at the shop.

Day Ten

I think I'm finally getting the hang of this wand-making thing! I timed it, and with no interruptions it only takes me four hours per wand. I managed to make three today, and I even sold one! Ash, eleven and a half inches long. A bit brittle. Cored with an excellently preserved dragon heartstring. Birch, thirteen inches, rather whippy. Cored with a veela hair – although I'm not sure I much like the feel of it. And lastly, maple, twelve inches, very solid. Cored with a phoenix feather. I'm so proud! And I should be able to make time for a date with my girlfriend tomorrow.

Day Eleven

Today was a weekend, so I didn't go into the shop. I went to anoher play with my girlfriend. She said, "A knut for your thoughts." I said, "Birch, thirteen inches, rather whippy." She says I have to get away from work more.

Day Twelve

Back at the shop today. I sold two wands. Ash, eleven and a half inches long. A bit brittle. And maple, twelve inches, very solid. I'm so pleased! Mr. Pasternack says I'm really getting good now. This afternoon I tried to talk to my girlfriend, but my mind just kept returning to those the wands I've sold. It seems so surreal that people are truly using things I made.

Day Thirteen

This is getting ridiculous. No matter how hard I try not to, whenever I'm not actively concentrating on anything I start to obsessively run over all the wands I've sold, from 'cherry, thirteen and a quarter inches, quite resilient' right down to 'maple, twelve inches, very solid.' I can't stop thinking about them. And it's not like it's just the ones that I'm particularly proud of – it's all of them. I remember each one so clearly, and they won't go out of my head.

Day fourteen

My girlfriend and I broke up today. She said that I'm never around, and that I love my wands more than I love her. She said it just wouldn't work. The problem is, I agree with her. How could I ever have a normal relationship when I can't think about anything but the three wands I sold today?

day fifteen

Get these wands out of my head I can't stop thinking about them and it's driving me mad. even now I'm thinking about my wands. Cherry, ash, maple, maple, oak, birch, poplar, willow. Eleven inches, thirteen and a half inches, twelve inches, twelve inches, twelve and a half inches, ten and a quarter inches, twelve and a half inches, eleven and three quarters inches. Dragon heartstring, veela hair, sphinx whisker, sphinx tooth, unicorn hair, hippogriff tear, pheonix feather, unicorn hair. Brittle, swishy, solid, temperamental, light, unyielding, flexible, consistent. All of them, and who bought them, and every detail of them. it won't stop!

day sixteen

oh, please make it stop! stop! i only think about the wands i need to make more and sell more because i need to, but i can't because my head is going to explode because i remember them all all all. ALL. I realize now the curse of the wandmaker: I remember every wand I've ever sold.

And it's killing me.

Author's note – Well, wasn't that just a ray of joy. My 't' key was malfunctioning throughout the story, so please alert me if you spot any typos. I've tried to correct as much as I can, but there's always the chance that I missed something. Once again, credit goes to my sister for the premise. Reviews are very much appreciated, as usual. Thanks!

~Grammar Defender~