“Hmmm . . .” he said. He twirled the wand between his long fingers like a baton and it emitted a number of pink and gold sparks. Then he held it close to his eyes and examined it carefully. “Yes,” he said quietly, “nine and a half inches . . . inflexible . . . rosewood . . . and containing . . . dear me . . .” “An ’air from ze ’ead of a veela,” said Fleur. “One of my grandmuzzer’s.” So Fleur was part veela, thought Harry, making a mental note to tell Ron . . . then he remembered that Ron wasn’t speaking to him. “Yes,” said Mr. Ollivander, “yes, I’ve never used veela hair myself, of course. I
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