Year

August 1991. Natsuhi's sunlight streamed through the stained glass of Hogwarts' high windows, casting colorful patterns on the ancient stone floor. It had been more than four years since that spark-filled seventh birthday.

During these four years, Silas Kirill had nominally remained a "special guest" of Hogwarts. Although, since he had perfected his Portal magic (at least to the point of being able to stably travel between Hogwarts and his home in London), he actually spent most nights sleeping in his own room, ostensibly "so as not to worry his parents." Dumbledore turned a blind eye to this, as long as he didn't cause trouble.

Silas had grown quite a bit during this time. Although he still had a touch of youthful slenderness, the lazy yet clever air between his brows was even more pronounced. The Levitating Cloak had now become a part of him, almost never leaving his body, with the collar even making small movements according to his mood.

In an empty classroom on the eighth floor of the castle, which he often used for practicing magic, Silas was performing his daily "homework." Three straw dummies floated in front of him.

"Claws of Denak!"

With a wave of his hand, instead of scattered light particles, more than a dozen fist-sized, incredibly solid energy missiles, trailing dazzling golden tails, shot out, hitting the three dummies with guided precision, instantly blasting them to smithereens, scattering straw everywhere.

Almost at the same time as the missiles were launched, he swept his other hand in front of him, and a Ring of the Ragaddor, a stable, rotating shield with a diameter of one and a half meters, composed of complex golden geometric runes, instantly formed, easily blocking the aftermath of the explosion.

"Hmm, proficiency is about right." Silas dispelled the light shield and clapped his hands. He hadn't wasted these four years. He had trained these two basic skills to near the peak of LV5, using them with ease. He could feel that he was only one step away from breaking through to the next level and unlocking those more tempting spells on the skill tree—whether it was the sturdy Seraphim Shield or the sharp Vishanti Holy Sword, they made him itch with anticipation.

Just then, a familiar barn Owl fluttered in through the window, dropping a letter in front of him, then perching to the side to preen its feathers.

Silas picked up the letter. The envelope was made of heavy parchment, the address was written in emerald green ink, and there was no stamp. The wax seal on the back of the envelope was a shield crest, with a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake surrounding a capital letter "H."

"Oh, the day has come." Silas wasn't surprised at all. He held the letter, but didn't open it immediately. Instead, he walked straight out of the empty classroom and headed towards Professor McGonagall's office, as if he had done it many times before.

He knocked on the door, and Professor McGonagall's stern voice came from inside: "Enter."

Silas pushed the door open. Professor McGonagall was sitting behind her desk, grading papers (probably N.E.W.T.-level Transfiguration papers). She looked up, peering at Silas through her square glasses, her expression as stern as ever, but with a hint of almost imperceptible... habitual helplessness hidden deep in her eyes. In these four years, this "unofficial student" had caused her no small amount of worry, even though he was mostly well-behaved (at least he hadn't blown up any more walls).

"Mr. Kirill, I believe you've received this." Professor McGonagall pointed to the letter in his hand, her tone flat, "Although this is more of a formality—after all, you've already been living in the castle for four years. But school rules are school rules."

"I understand, Professor." Silas said with a grin, opening the letter in front of Professor McGonagall and quickly scanning the standard-format acceptance letter and list of required items. "So, I'm officially a freshman now?"

"As of September 1st, yes." Professor McGonagall nodded slightly. "You will need to abide by all school rules, be sorted into a house, and attend classes normally. I imagine that shouldn't be a problem for you?" There was a hint of subtle probing in her tone. After all, making a student who could already skillfully use an unknown magic system go back and learn "Wingardium Leviosa" was a somewhat bizarre picture to imagine.

"Of course, Professor, I'm looking forward to it." Silas said nice things, but in his heart, he was thinking about how to reasonably "slack off" in class. He waved the letter in his hand. "Then Professor, if there's nothing else, I'll go get my wand from Mr. Ollivander? He sent a message by Owl a few days ago, saying he's finally finished it."

Professor McGonagall seemed to want to say something about the rumors that Mr. Ollivander had been almost entirely housebound for the past four years, frantically researching, and that all of this stemmed from the boy in front of her. But in the end, she only nodded. "Go. Remember, do not misuse your... that kind of movement method in the castle or Diagon Alley."

"Don't worry, Professor, I'll walk." Silas agreed readily, turning and leaving the office.

As soon as he walked out of the castle gate and onto the sunlit grounds, he threw Professor McGonagall's instructions to the back of his mind. Walk? That's too slow!

He raised his hand, and the Suspended Ring flashed in the sunlight. A huge Portal, with stable sparks around the edges and a clear view of the bustling streets of Diagon Alley inside, instantly opened in front of him.

"Finally waited for you, my wand." The corners of Silas's mouth curled into a smile of anticipation, and he stepped into the Portal. He was very curious about what kind of wand Mr. Ollivander had crafted with his unique "wand core" material over the course of four years.

Soon, Silas stepped out of the Portal leading to a secluded corner of Diagon Alley, straightened his robes, and headed towards Ollivanders Wand Shop. Four years had passed, and the shop looked even more dilapidated and dusty, but the gold-lettered sign at the door seemed to have been carefully wiped, shining brightly.

He pushed open the shop door, and a bell rang. Almost at the same time, a flurry of hurried footsteps came from deep within the shop, and Mr. Ollivander rushed out like a gust of wind. Compared to four years ago, he looked even more haggard, with heavy bags under his eyes and disheveled white hair, but his pale eyes burned with an almost manic excitement and joy.

"Mr. Kirill! You've come!" Mr. Ollivander's voice was a little shrill with excitement, and he grabbed Silas's hand, his grip surprisingly strong. "Excellent! Your timing is perfect! It's finished! Just last night! This is definitely one of—no, perhaps the greatest work of my life—Garrick Ollivander!"

Without another word, he pulled Silas inside, carefully and reverently taking a wand from an exquisite box lined with black velvet.

The material of the wand was very unique, with a warm honey color, smooth wood, and subtle, lightning-like golden textures, and deep within the textures, there were faint traces of imperceptible dark purple veins. The length of the wand was moderate, and the shape was simple and elegant.

"Fourteen and a half inches!" Ollivander introduced in a chanting tone, his gaze lingering on the wand with fascination. "Acacia wood—a very individual wood, it refuses to serve any wizard who is not its true master, and is extremely loyal! The flexibility is average, which means it requires a master with a strong will and extraordinary talent!"

He took a deep breath and finally got to the heart of the matter: "And the core... is that... amazing, unprecedented energy that you provided! I have perfectly sealed that strand of energy that balances the light with... some kind of deep power! Believe me, child, this wand is sure to be a perfect match for you! The choice of Acacia wood itself says it all!"

Silas looked at the wand and could clearly feel an attraction like blood calling to blood. He reached out and carefully took the wand.

The moment his fingertips touched the wand—

A warm and majestic flood instantly poured into his body from the wand, creating a strong resonance with the Vishanti magic within him! At the same time, the dark energy sealed deep within the wand also trembled slightly, echoing the gray branch in his skill tree. A brilliant golden-purple spark burst from the tip of the wand, like a small fireworks show, illuminating the dim shop as bright as day, and a faint, ethereal, and ancient ringing even sounded in the air.

Ollivander was moved to tears: "See! I knew it! Perfect! It's simply a miracle!"

Silas waved the wand and felt it was as easy as using his own arm. This wand didn't "choose" him like other wands, but rather felt like a natural extension of his body and magic.

"Mr. Ollivander," Silas said sincerely, his tone very serious, "this is definitely not something that seven Galleon can buy. It's too precious. You've spent more than four years of effort on it. Please tell me, how much compensation do you want? I will pay as much as I can."

Ollivander wiped the corners of his eyes and waved his hand. "Compensation? Oh, compensation... To be honest, being able to make such a wand is the greatest reward for me... But, if you insist..." He hesitated, seeming a little embarrassed to speak. "I hope... you can provide me with some more of that magical wand core material. I'm willing to pay... five Galleon..."

Silas immediately understood Ollivander's meaning. This master obsessed with wand-making was not interested in money, but in that unique material, hoping to explore more possibilities.

"Mr. Ollivander," Silas said readily, "you have done me a great favor by creating this wand for me. Talking about money is too vulgar."

As he spoke, he held out his hands, a ball of warm, dancing golden arcane energy condensing in his left palm, and a strand of dark purple dark energy, strictly constrained by the System's power and only as thick as a hair, being drawn out in his right palm. He took out two small, exquisite crystal jars engraved with sealing runes from who knows where, and guided the two energies into them separately.

"Here," Silas handed the two jars containing amazing power to the stunned Ollivander. "Consider these two jars of energy a free gift from me. When you want to use them, just use a Levitation Charm to take a strand of each of the two energies and mix and stretch them in the air. If you need more in the future, you can write to me, and the subsequent ones... will be priced at five Galleon for two jars."

Ollivander took the two crystal jars with trembling hands, as if holding the future of the entire magical world. He opened his mouth, his voice a little choked up: "I... I originally just wanted... to be satisfied with the material cost of five Galleon for a wand... You... you this..."

Silas smiled and carefully put away the new wand. "This is what you deserve. I hope it will help you create more magical wands. Well then, I'll take my leave now, Mr. Ollivander."

With that, he turned and pushed open the shop door, disappearing into the crowd in Diagon Alley. Leaving Ollivander alone in the shop filled with wand boxes, holding two jars of "priceless" energy, looking in the direction Silas left, muttering to himself:

"Incredible child... Incredible wand... The magical world, I'm afraid, is about to usher in a new legend..."