Chapter 13 13: Destined choice!
[Ollivander's Wand Shop has been manufacturing high-quality wands since AD 382. 】
Ian stood at the door of the store.
My heart is filled with indescribable excitement.
“If you are distracted like this when brewing the potion, I am afraid that only Merlin’s wholehearted protection can save you from being blown up into the sky.”
Snape's venomous tongue will only be late, but will never be absent. Looking at Ian who was caught in the ups and downs of his thoughts, Snape mocked in a unique sinister tone.
"Professor, I just thought of something interesting."
Ian responded with a sneer.
"It seems that Mr. Prince, like those stupid Hufflepuffs, has the same brain as a troll." Snape sneered and mocked Ian.
Soon.
He took out seven shining gold Galleons from his purse and threw them to Ian.
"Take your money and buy your wand. I will wait for you here." Snape seemed not to want to go in, but just gave Ian the money to buy the wand by himself.
Compared with the cost of replacing wands for other wizards, the price of wands for new students at Hogwarts is very fixed, and everyone has this number which is very significant in the magical world.
"Professor, won't you come with me?"
Ian looked at Snape with clear eyes.
"Are you a giant baby?"
Snape squinted at Ian sarcastically.
"Okay..."
Ian took the Galleons from Snape's hand, took a deep breath, and pushed open the door. In the original work and fan fiction, They all represent the door for dreams to set sail.
“Ding Dong~”
There was a crisp copper bell connected to the door. When Ian pushed the door open and entered, the copper bell made a sound that could not be ignored, as if to remind the owner of the shop that there was a customer.
This is a store that is not too big, but the space is a bit crowded and narrow. The simplicity of its pavement is far inferior to its status in the hearts of many Harvard scholars.
Tens of thousands of wands were stacked on cheap containers. No one could imagine that this would be the starting point for all wizards. The ordinary and featureless store looked very simple.
"Good afternoon, a... special face."
The old voice came from a hunchbacked old man. Although he had a head of pale, messy and boring hair, his sparkling eyes God’s eyes are hard to ignore.
"Hello, sir."
Ian greeted the owner of the shop, the Ollivander wandmaker of this generation, slightly restrainedly, his eyes always staying on the various wands. .
"Yes, yes, it's the beginning of school again. Little wizard at Hogwarts...are you here on your own?" Ollivander looked up and down at the thin figure in front of him.
"The professor from Hogwarts brought me here, is there any problem?"
Ian answered the question honestly.
"Of course it's no problem, I just...just think of it as an old man's confusion." Ollivander chuckled lightly and glanced out of the window.
"I should have realized that only he would bring you here, um, birch, phoenix tail feathers, I remember it as if it was yesterday." Ollivander whispered in a godly voice.
Is this a "prophecy" about Snape's situation?
If Ian remembers correctly, the Death Eater professor's wand is indeed a wand made of birch wood - I didn't expect that this old magician who sells wands really has a way with it.
“Do you have the power of prophecy?”
Ian relied on his young age and his childlike manner.
"This is just experience, just a hunch, kid." Ollivander smiled happily, grabbed a tape measure, and began to measure Ian's height and arm span.
"Each wand will choose the most suitable owner. This is the most magical feature of the wand..." Ollivander brainwashed Ian while measuring Ian's body data. I didn’t forget to ask the age-old question, “Mr. Prince, which hand do you prefer to use?”
There is indeed something!
Ian didn’t even introduce himself, but Ollivander called him by his last name!
"Do you know my name?"
Ian couldn't help but curiously asked.
"This is not a question I should answer to you, Mr. Prince. I am only responsible for selling my wands." Ollivander responded with a smile.
"Left hand, I am used to using my left hand."
Ian answered Ollivander's initial question helplessly.
"This is really a rare habit."
Ollivander put away the tape measure and walked to the container where the wands were placed.
“Many people think that it is the wizard who chooses the wand, but in fact it is the wand that chooses its owner. Maintaining a humble attitude is a quality that every wizard should have.”
Olivan De started brainwashing Ian as usual.
"Um, are you going to instill this idea in every little wizard?" Ian felt that Ollivander gave him a very strong sense of déjà vu at this moment.
Just like the plot of the original work.
It also looks like a poorly written plot in a fan novel.
"Impolite child, I am just teaching you the correct understanding... How can businessmen call it indoctrination?" Ollivander glanced at Ian angrily.
Soon.
He picked a wand from the shelf and handed it to Ian.
"Rosewood, the nerve of the fire dragon..."
Almost as soon as he put the wand in Ian's hand, Ollivander suddenly pulled the wand back. Yes, pulled back with that force. It’s hard to imagine coming from a person of seventy or eighty years old.
"No, no, let's try this, birch, 17 inches, from..." This time, Ollivander took back the wand without even finishing the introduction.
“This isn’t right either.” Ollivander returned to the container to rummage.
"Ebony, ten inches, the nerve of a dragon."
"Cedar, twelve inches, the head feathers of a thunderbird"
"No, no, maybe it should be this one Fir wood, fifteen inches, phoenix tail feathers."
"A really picky customer, then try this special combination, albizia wood, fourteen inches, enchantress's hair."
……
I have to say.
The process of selecting a wand was more complicated than Ian expected.
I don’t know if every little wizard will go through such a difficult selection process. In short, Ian finally couldn't help but speak when his hands were numb.
"Sir, maybe I should try the wand made by your grandfather, or your grandfather's grandfather?" Ian felt a sense of déjà vu for everything that happened at this time.
He gave advice based on his years of experience as a bookworm.
However.
“Is he a kid who likes old things?”
Ollivander looked at Ian with a puzzled face.
"Yeah, yes, that's who I am."
Ian tried to make his eyes look serious. He really felt that the process of testing various wands was too much. Suffering, maybe this is the only solution to a similar situation.
after all.
The protagonists in many fan fictions end up with the wand from Ollivander's grandfather. Maybe he also has the same qualities as those predecessors who traveled through time?
"Mr. Prince, it is a pity that each generation of Ollivanders will only sell wands made by themselves. This is a matter of pride and respect for the ancestors."
< br>Ollivander's response shattered Ian's thoughts.
Ian couldn't help but show a bitter look.
He had no choice but to continue trying various wands handed over by Ollivander. It was a boring process, and it can be said that almost every wand seemed to Ollivander to be a poor match for Ian.
I tested dozens of wands again.
“It’s really rare.”
“I’ve never seen such a picky customer.”
“Perhaps...you have some rare qualities.”
Ollivander's expression and Ian's expression are simply two extremes. The harder it is to find a matching wand, the brighter Ollivander's cloudy eyes become.
"Little wizard who likes ancient objects, maybe, maybe you should try that wand." Ollivander seemed to have remembered something, and rushed to his back room in surprise.
A moment later.
He walked out holding a dusty box in his hand.
"Is this your grandfather's wand?"
Ian couldn't help but ask.
"No, this is my work, a pretentious work from my early years... I read the story in the fairy tale, and then I felt unwilling to admit defeat."
“You may not know the legend about the Elder Wand. In fact, this is my attempt to create a work comparable to that legendary wand. It is a naive and ignorant attempt on my part.”
Ollivander's eyes and expression are full of nostalgia.
“I have failed many, many times. The last time, I felt numb to failure. Perhaps, the elder tree and the core of the wand, which symbolizes beauty, can never match?”
"I was shaken in my belief, but maybe it was the help from Merlin. The last time, it was a thunderstorm day, and I thought I would fail as usual."
"In 1980, it was ", July 7, 1980... I don't know if that thunder and lightning was successful. Over the years, I have not been able to find a suitable wizard for it."
Ollivander looked at Ian. His eyes were filled with passion.
"I have a hunch that you are the wizard he is waiting for." Ollivander actually used inappropriate honorifics, and his eyes when he looked at Ian were full of some slightly excited anticipation. .
“Give it a try.”
Ollivander handed over his wand.
"Uh...July 7th...this day..."
Ian took the wand from Ollivander's hand with a strange expression.
It was almost the moment the wand touched his palm.
He only felt as if he was integrated with the wand. No matter how exquisite the words were, it was difficult to describe this feeling. The surging magic power in his body flowed to the wand very clearly.
"Hoo~"
Silver-white threads spurted out from the top of the wand, rolling and floating, filling the entire store in the blink of an eye like clouds, and countless mist-like and illusory scenes kept tumbling in it!
There is a figure shining.
It seemed like a beast was roaring again.
“It’s really possible! It’s really possible!”
"This is... really a destined miracle!"
Ollivander's exclamation echoed in the simple hut for a long time.
With a kind of... pious fanaticism.
(End of this chapter)