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Wand Length:  10 1/3 inches
Wand Flexibility:  supple, almost sturdy
Wand Wood:  Apple Wood
Wand Core:  Kneazle Whisker

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It
was rather a lucky coincidence that led to me finding my wand. After
Ollivander declared it safe to use, I have been keeping it at my side
ever since. That I actually found it however - or did my wand actually
find me - had to be predestined, as such coincidences are very rare
indeed.

After getting my
Hogwarts letter, I was very excited to finally go to Diagon Alley for
the very first time. There was so much to do, and even more to learn! As
both my parents and I were equally new to this whole new world of
magic, we were accompanied by a Hogwarts professor. All seemed to go
very well, after some time I had gotten all my supplies - except for my
wand. It was probably a wise decision to make this the very last stop of
our day at Diagon Alley as the shopping trip was quite exhausting. Only
the thought of getting a wand - my wand - made me going on.
Finally we reached Ollivander's. While the professor was introducing us
and Ollivander was making some comments about her wand, I was impressed
by the sheer multitude of possible wands that were surrounding me.
Somewhere inside, in one of these tiny boxes, I would find my match. Or
so I thought at the very least.

It
took hours and hours, and Ollivander seemed to empty his entire shop -
but none of the wands gave me even the slightest of reactions. I had
never been so disappointed, surely this was real, I would wake up,
surely the professor was not going to say that all of this was a huge
mistake, that I was not magical at all! I have never been that
desperate, that scared in my entire life. The whole joyful bubble that
the existence of magic seemed to have built up collapsed, just as if Mr.
Ollivander had popped it with one of these wands of his. Finally, he
got the last box out of the very back corner of his shop. It was laden
with dust, and it seemed rather ancient. When waving it, something
happened. Finally. Namely, the entire shelves inside the store broke
down.

"Curious", Mr. Ollivander said. "Very curious."

"Excuse
me, but what exactly is curious", my mother's voice came out of a huge
cloud of dust. "This is not supposed to happen, is it? If that is the
only thing magic can do, maybe it is not the best of ideas after all!"

My
hope that instantly rose as the first wand showed any reaction was
instantly crushed. This could not be true, it could not be a giant
mistake, I belonged here! I did not want to give up on magic before even
learning it! Even though I was ecstatic when being accepted to the same
secondary school my parents went to, Hogwarts sounded much better.

"No, not at all", Ollivander interrupted. "It is just that I do not have the wand that is best suited for your daughter."

Crushed,
I faced the seemingly inevitable. Now he was going to tell me that I
should rather go back to the muggle world and forget about magic.

"The
wand that gave her a reaction is almost ancient. It is one of a kind,
as I no longer work with this kind of material. It is the only wand in
this store that is actually made with a Kneazle whisker core."

I heard the professor take a sharp breath.

"I
do not produce those anymore, because there is not much of a market for
them. 'Found most commonly in the hands of Ravenclaws, Kneazle Whiskers
channel the Kneazle's ability to sense the intentions of others.' (1)
The young lady is a very sensitive being I would say, and none of these
wands will work for her. But looking into Kneazle Whisker cores, you
will most certainly find a wand that is suitable, no need to worry."

In
a daze, we left Ollivander's and went back home. At least I was in a
daze, all my parents did was chatting with the professor about
something. Maybe how to obtain a wand, maybe how to make me forget all
this nonsense. I was too preoccupied to even think about listening.

"Emma...
Emma... Emma, are you listening?" Mum's voice. "The professor just told
us how you will get your wand, and you did not react at all!"

"Excuse me", I shook myself to clear my head. My wand! Was there still some possibility that I might get a wand?

"It
was a long day my dear, no need to worry", the professor said. "As I
was saying, I will accompany you to see other wandmakers on the
continent. We'll go by portkey, an instant way of travel. However, you
will have to wait for a couple of weeks. All muggle-born students get
their letters now, I will be on orientation days all week."

"Thank you!" I said breathlessly, just as the professor turned and disapparated. 

The
next days went by in somewhat of a haze. I studied my books, using
twigs to simulate wand movements. I also started to organize my school
trunk, it would be most embarassing to have someone step over at our
place and see the magical books, I would be in so much trouble! Finally
my parents could no longer see myself tearing apart my room every day,
packing and repacking, and asked that I just went on and maybe think on
new furniture.

You have to know,
I'm not that fond of all modern kinds of room styles. I would rather
have some old, battered furniture that could be painted and then look
amazing - which my parents do not understand at all. But there was a big
antiques market coming up the next day, and it made me look forward to
go shopping for something that was not a wand. And as it were, it was
but a wand that I ended up with.

The
most amazing stand at the entire antiques market was one that dealt with
objects from estate sales from the last centuries. Most furniture was
battered, but I did not mind at all. It was as if something was calling
to me from that very stand and needed to be found - as it turned out,
this something was my wand. None of the pieces of furniture caught my
eye, until I saw a box of different coloured pieces of wood, of
different lengths, with intricate carvings on them. Seeing my
fascination, the stand owner explained that no one had found out what
the possible use of this wood could be. It looked as if they were pieces
that could be arranged as some kind of decoration, or just spare pieces
of wood that should be combined into a big something. Diving into the
pile, I was shuffling through what looked like wands and wands, looking
for something that might catch my fancy. Then I found it. Just an
ordinary piece of wood, I thought, but it was that incredibly warm in
my hand, I just had to pick it up and keep it. Taking it into my hand,
sparks were flying out of the wood's ... wand's tip. It was mine.
Finally. Realising what happened, dad quickly intervened.

"So you fell in love with this little piece of wood? How much for it?"

"It is not of much value, only nice-looking. So, let's say, about 10 pounds?"

"For
a piece of wood of no existing purpose?", Dad interjected, while I was
panicking. I wanted to keep this wand! "I will not pay a penny more than
5 pounds!"

"Let's meet in the middle, 7.5?"

"7 and you have a deal"

They
shook hands, and I was a proud owner of a, my, wand. However, this
joyful moment was not to last. My parents, concerned that something
might be wrong with the wand (or maybe worried that I might demolish the
house) took it, and I was not to use it before Mr. Ollivander had
declared it safe. So I wrote, sulkingly I must add, to the professor
that very evening, asking how to check whether a wand was safe, because I
had found one. The next morning, she was there immediately. It was way
to dangerous to leave wands out in the open, for muggles to purchase,
who knew what might happen! But neither of us remembered the stand
owner's name, just that it was an antiques market. Accompanying me to
Ollivander's, the wand crafter was more than surprised to actually see
me again, this soon.

"Miss Nightingale, what do you search for in this store this fine morning?"

"I found a wand..." I eagerly said, when the professor interrupted.

"She
found some wand in a muggle antiques market" I did not know how it was
possible to sound that odd, as if something was wrong. I mean, I found a
wand, my wand! That was great, wasn't it? "And it seemed to give her
some reaction, her parents said. Now they wanted to have you take a look
at it, to declare it safe to use, and to prevent any accidents."

Handing the wand to Ollivander, he began to examine the piece of wood that I never wanted to let go again.

"Hmmm,
apple wood... powerful, high ideals and aims, great ability in
languages (2) ... with a ... yes, a kneazle whisker core. 10 1/3 inches,
supple, almost sturdy. It will not be too easy to learn to cast with
this wand, but the results will be most powerful (3). Curious, a muggle
sale, you say? Maybe from some squib remnants who kept their ancestor's
wands... but this one is new, has never been in use... But it should be
safe to use."

It felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from my shoulders. My wand was safe.

"Let's
see how it works with young Miss Nightingale here." Carefully,
Ollivander held out the wand for me. And equally carefully I grabbed it,
and gave it a swish. Sparks rained down on the three of us, in a bright
light.

"Wonderful!", Mr.
Ollivander exclaimed. "Simply wonderful! I expect we will see great
talent coming from you, Miss Nightingale, take good care of your wand!
You will need a holster of course, and some polish, ..."

This
time, it only took us a short time to be at Ollivander's. And finally, I
had a wand. I was sure to cherish it always, as I would probably never
find such an amazing match again. This concludes the story of how I
found my wand, or how my wand found me. I never heard of anyone
confiscating or buying these other wands that were sitting at this
antiques market - maybe they found their way in the right hands, maybe
they will be lost forever for the magical world. What matters most for
me is that I found my wand, at last.

Sources

• (1) http://www.magicalalley.com/#!product/prd14/1700832945/kneazle-whisker
• (2) http://pottermore.wikia.com/wiki/Apple
• (3) http://pottermoreschosenfew.weebly.com/wandlore.html