Madeleine’s memory of going to see the wandmaker on Pearl Street the weekend after she turned eleven was sparkly clear and perfect. It was a Patronus-making kind of memory. Madeleine had gotten all dressed up in a rainbow dress with her brown hair braided back and tied with a gold ribbon. If the wand chose the witch, then Madeleine wanted to be looking her best! Then she and Dad and Aaron-Dad and Drew were off to see the wandmaker. And it was like Goldilocks: the first wand she tried almost set the desk on fire, the second wand couldn’t make enough of a breeze to ring the shop bell when she tried, but the third wand was juuuuuust right. It had made a bunch of rainbow sparks that matched Madeleine’s dress, and that was how she knew that it was the one. Her wand. Afterwards they had all gone to Finnigan’s Flavors and Madeleine had gotten Cookie Dough Catastrophe in a chocolate-dipped cone with rainbow sprinkles. And then they had gone right home so that Madeleine could give her new wand a try.
Aaron-Dad started teaching Madeleine to do magic using his wand (which he almost never used anyway because he was so smart at wandless magic) before she got her own, but after she had her One True Wand, doing magic was even better. Madeleine took super good care of it: some people were fine with dropping their wands and letting them get all fingerprinty, but not Madeleine. Dad had helped her sew a pocket in her school robes so she could keep her wand on hand, and she polished it with a kit from the wandmaker’s so it stayed clean and glossy and scratch-free.
She had thought about the kneazle whose whisker was the core of her wand (where was it? Did it know it was giving its whisker to be a wand at the time? Could it tell when Madeleine used it?), but she had never thought as much about the wood. Just that it was from a special English oak that had bowtruckles living on it once upon a time. Well, now was her chance to find out more!
As Aaron-Dad wrapped up his speech, Madeleine whipped out a fresh sheet of parchment and her handy-dandy magenta Fwooper feather quill and her rainbow ink. Some of the professors wanted black ink only, but she knew Aaron-Dad wouldn’t mind. Madeleine was writing her own name at the top of the page when a hand appeared in her field of vision.
A first year! Madeleine could mentor a first year! That was what being a second year was all about. Even though they weren’t doing magic this class, she was sure she could help. “You too!” Madeleine crowed, putting her quill down so she could shake Wynonna’s hand. “I’m Madeleine Tennant. I’m a second year, in Draco. You wanna work together? I already have parchment out.” Madeleine gestured to her paper.
Then she picked up the quill again. “I’m putting my family as something that makes me, me,” she explained, writing again. “Professor McKindy and Mr. Tennant are my dads, and my older brother Drew is a Cetus sixth year, and they’re the best.” Not to mention her huge extended family that had passed through RMI. Excited, Madeleine scribbled down my family in her rounded, heart-dotted-i’s handwriting, then left a big space for more of her things before she wrote Wynonna’s name with plenty of space below it for the first year to write about herself. “How about you? What makes Wynonna Wakefield, Wynonna Wakefield?”