"You almost have a good a memory as Mr. Ollivander." Luna suggested, pulling down the correct book and opening it up. Each page had a date and time on it, along with a small paragraph of how hte old man had felt on that day. What the customer looked like, felt like, asked for. There were so many - especially in the fall, that even the time mattered.
"I can not quite say that." she added, running a finger down the page. Luna simply assumed everyone knew she had gone a little mad after losing her own memories, but she did her best to make a light of it. After all, it was the memories that were dark, not her. "Ah. Here we are. 10:43 in the morning. You had a bit of jam on your collar."
She continued to read down the list, checking the details of this particular wand, - then reaching up for another book to cross reference the history of it's make. This was easier, as he tended to gather in spurts, each time a different place. Ollivander had only been to this particular set of woods four or five times, the latest in '74.