Wand, and Birthday Gift

Mr. Ollivander opened his mouth, clearly not expecting Harry to say something like that.

To avoid an awkward silence, Mr. Ollivander decided to change the subject.

"Thank you, Mr. Potter," he said, turning back and walking behind the counter. He took out a tape measure and asked, "Which arm do you usually use to wield your wand?"

"My right hand, sir." Harry maintained a polite smile.

"Raise your arm—ah, good." Ollivander began taking Harry's measurements, from shoulder to fingertip, then from wrist to elbow, and even from shoulder to floor.

Harry had never understood it. He was buying a wand, not clothes—did they really need to measure his waist as well?

As he measured, Mr. Ollivander explained things to him—but as far as Harry could tell, Mr. Ollivander was merely giving him facts about Dragon Heartstring, Phoenix Feather, and Unicorn Hair, without explaining why any of this was necessary.

After quite a while, the measuring process finally ended, and Harry let out a sigh of relief.

"All right," Mr. Ollivander said. The tape measure slid to the floor and curled into a heap. "Now then, Mr. Potter, try this one—Maplewood, Phoenix Feather, seven inches long, quite flexible. Give it a wave?"

Harry took the wand, but the moment he gave it a flick, Mr. Ollivander snatched it back.

"No, this one doesn't suit you. Try this instead—ebony and Unicorn Hair, eight and a half inches long, very flexible." Mr. Ollivander handed Harry another wand.

Harry obediently took it, but before he could even wave it, Mr. Ollivander snatched it straight from his hand.

"No, no, try this one—" Ollivander went on to himself. "Aspenwood, Dragon Heartstring, eleven and three-quarters inches."

This time, Harry did not take the wand.

"Mr. Potter? Please take it and give it a try." Mr. Ollivander assumed Harry had drifted off and reminded him.

"Are you sure this one suits me?" Harry said. "I don't think you'll need to wait for me to hold it and wave it before deciding it doesn't."

"It seems you truly aren't very compatible with it." As though he had not heard Harry's sarcasm, Mr. Ollivander lowered his head and searched beneath the counter for a long time.

"Here it is," he said, pulling a box from the very bottom of the counter and opening it with great care. "Beechwood, Dragon Heartstring, eleven inches—"

Harry did not take it. Instead, he looked at Mr. Ollivander.

"Try it." Ollivander did not get angry, merely holding the wand a little closer.

Only then did Harry take it. The instant it touched his hand, he felt a warm current flow from the wand into him. A beam of light blossomed from its tip, then golden sparks burst forth like fireworks, even scattering onto the surrounding walls.

"Yes, yes, this is it!" Mr. Ollivander covered his mouth, his voice full of emotion. "Beechwood—I knew it would be beechwood. Do you know what a true match for a beechwood wand should be like? If they are young, then they possess wisdom beyond their years; if they are already adults, then they must be understanding and experienced."

Harry pressed down the corners of his mouth and gave his assessment.

"Not bad."

He readily took out Galleons and, after Mr. Ollivander reminded him of the price, lined up seven Galleons on the counter to buy the wand. Mr. Ollivander then bowed and saw him out of the Wand Shop.

Outside the shop, Hagrid stood there holding a large cake.

Seeing Harry emerge, Hagrid stepped forward and handed him the cake.

"I know your birthday's in a few days, but we're about to part ways. You'll be going back to the Dursley family, so let this be an early birthday celebration," Hagrid said.

Harry lowered his head to look at the cake. Written on it were the words, "HAPPEE BIRTHDAE HARRY."

Two out of the three words were misspelled, yet his name was the one thing that had been spelled correctly.

"Thank you, Hagrid." Harry gave Hagrid a broad smile. "I really like this cake. If you don't mind, shall we go back to The Leaky Cauldron and enjoy it together before we part?"

"Oh, Harry." Hagrid's large hand ruffled Harry's messy hair.

The two returned to The Leaky Cauldron. This time, Harry had bought quite a few things from Diagon Alley—not just books, but also a Snowy Owl Hagrid had given him as a birthday present. Harry had named her Hedwig.

The Snowy Owl had a sweet-looking smile and was very pretty.

"If the Dursley family treat you badly, write to me with this owl," Hagrid told Harry as he ate cake at a table in the pub. "Don't worry. This owl will find me."

"Okay, Hagrid." Harry did not say much, only nodding in agreement.

Even while eating cake, he was distracted.

To be honest, he had been away from the Dursley family for almost a day now, and he actually missed Dudley a little.

After they had finished the cake, Hagrid led Harry out of The Leaky Cauldron.

The two of them made an exceptionally conspicuous pair. Even setting aside Hagrid, a huge man who drew attention wherever he went, the large and small bundles they carried, along with a Snowy Owl, were more than enough to turn heads.

Fortunately, keeping Snowy Owls was legal in England, so no one called the police. Still, they could not avoid the stares along the way.

"Sigh, I actually regret it," Hagrid said. "I should've called the Knight Bus."

"The Knight Bus?" Harry asked, though he already knew.

If Hagrid had not mentioned it, he really would have forgotten about the Knight Bus.

When he had attended school a century ago, he had been fortunate enough to ride it several times. He had heard it was proposed by Dugud McPhail, the Minister for Magic from over twenty years ago.

"The Knight Bus always helps wizards in need. It can take people anywhere on land," Hagrid told Harry. "Here, take out your wand and hold it up in the air—"

Harry did as instructed, taking out his wand and holding it aloft.

Whoosh—

Almost the instant he raised his hand, a double-decker bus appeared in front of them.

At the same time, Harry noticed that the passersby who had been staring at the strange pair of him and Hagrid suddenly stopped looking in their direction.

Muggle-Repelling Charm, Harry muttered to himself. This is magic permanently cast on the Knight Bus.

"Hey, you two, are you getting on or not?"

The conductor leaned against the door and called out loudly.

Hagrid immediately hauled his bags and bundles aboard, bringing Harry with him.

"Number Four, Privet Drive, Little Whinging, please," Hagrid said.

While Hagrid spoke with the conductor, Harry was still thinking.

If they took carsick Dudley on the Knight Bus once, the expression on that fat face would definitely be spectacular.