First Encounter with the Second Dark Lord (Please Bookmark, Recommend, and Follow-Not Mandatory)

Watching the little girl before him, meek as a kitten and asking for praise.

Cypher instinctively raised a hand and patted Iris on the head.

Iris froze in place as though she had been struck by the Petrification Curse.

Only then did Cypher, having come to his senses, realize that something was amiss.

His mature mind let him regain his composure and withdraw his hand. Cypher stared at his palm, deep in thought.

Iris bit her lip and looked uneasily at Cypher.

She was just about to explain herself to him.

But Cypher had already looked past her toward a shop that every wizard dreamed of visiting before the age of eleven—Ollivander's Wand Shop!

Despite monopolizing the British wizarding market, the little shop was remarkably inconspicuous.

Its display windows were covered in dust, and the gold lettering on its sign had peeled away.

It looked like a shop that had gone out of business and been cleared out.

After straightening her appearance, Iris came to Cypher's side. Stepping forward, she led him into the shop.

Just as they were about to pass each other.

A glint flashed through Cypher's eyes, and he stepped in front of Iris.

Unable to stop in time, Iris felt as though she had run into a railing.

She stopped. Just as Iris, who had hurt herself in the collision, was about to ask Cypher why.

A huge, violent surge of magic suddenly erupted from inside the shop.

It was accompanied by a wildly ecstatic shout.

"That's right, just like this! So much power!"

The magical fluctuations made Iris's skirt flutter. She wanted to draw her wand, but Cypher shielded her behind him.

Then the shop door was violently flung open. A tall, thin boy rushed out, his handsome face framed by eyes glowing red. His body trembled slightly from the momentum of his excitement as he examined the Yew Wand in his hand with fanatical exhilaration. He glanced at Cypher, snorted coldly, then ignored him and strode away.

"Who was that? How could he possess such powerful magic the moment he got his wand?"

Cypher shook his head. He did not know either. Protecting Iris had been one reason he stopped her, but avoiding unnecessary trouble had been a considered decision as well.

Cypher had some guesses about the boy's identity. That should have been Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Second Dark Lord.

If Iris had pointed her wand at him, there was no telling whether he would remember her.

Without sufficient strength, one had to tread carefully to survive in the supernatural world.

Tom had obtained the first assistant on his path to becoming king. He was thrilled to possess this powerful Yew Wand, though he would later cast it aside without mercy.

What kind of wand would mine be?

There was no one around. Cypher led Iris toward the shop entrance.

As the door slowly drew closer, even Cypher's heart, which he had thought would remain calm, began to stir.

After all, it was a wand! The primary means of casting magic!

Creak—

The shop door, battered by Tom's antics, let out a pained groan.

The first thing that entered their sight was thousands of boxes.

They lay in chaotic, densely packed heaps stretching from the floor to the ceiling.

Fortunately, there was a fairly large open space nearby where the two could stand, though quite a few empty boxes and scattered wands lay there as well.

Bang—

The door shut. The shop became so quiet that a pin dropping could be heard. The oppressive, deathly still air left them both rooted in place as they cautiously kept their guard up.

On the way here, Iris had said that after entering, Ollivander would suddenly appear when you least expected it and give you a fright.

They waited for a long time, but there was still no movement in the shop. Looking at the mess before them, Iris could no longer suppress her worry.

She called out loudly, "Mr. Ollivander, we need to buy a wand. Are you all right?"

"Over... here..."

A thread-thin voice came from the clutter in front of them.

The two hurriedly followed the sound.

From a pile of wand boxes, they pulled out Ollivander, battered black and blue.

At this time, Ollivander was not an old man, but a mature middle-aged man. Yet he looked dazed, and his face still bore an expression of shock.

"Mr. Ollivander? Wake up."

Iris shook Ollivander by the shoulder. Seeing that he still appeared utterly vacant.

She gritted her teeth, stamped her foot, pulled a bottle of bright blue potion from her small bag, removed the stopper, and poured it into Ollivander's mouth.

After swallowing the potion, Ollivander immediately shuddered. The emptiness in his eyes cleared, and his injuries visibly improved considerably.

"Ah, Miss Fergus, thank you for your help. I'll give you a discount on the wand you purchase here for that potion."

Ollivander got to his feet, rubbed his face to pull himself together, and muttered softly to Iris.

Miss Fergus... Fergus... Brandt Fergus! The Deputy Headmaster?

Cypher's heart shook. Fortunately, the Deputy Headmaster was not exactly an outsider to Hogwarts, so there was nothing remarkable about his granddaughter. Let the impersonation of the Dumbledore family continue.

Seeing that Iris had not noticed, Cypher pretended not to have heard.

"You awful old man, are you hoping I'll need a new wand? Or are you admitting that your wands are poor quality?"

Hearing that, Iris snapped at Ollivander like an angry cat.

"Don't argue, don't argue. It wouldn't be good if someone heard..."

Ollivander hurriedly smiled apologetically.

"I misspoke. My apologies. How about half price for your friend's purchase this time?"

"Hmph. Using the favor you owe me on my friend? You're really calculating every last detail."

Iris's little leather shoes tapped rhythmically against the floor, making sharp slapping sounds.

She crossed her arms over her chest and waited for Ollivander to explain himself.

"I'm a businessman, of course I have to maximize my own interests..."

He muttered some incomprehensible creed under his breath.

Ollivander laboriously pulled out his Olive Wand.

As his arm continued to move.

The wands scattered across the messy floor returned to their wooden boxes one after another, then flew back to their respective places.

Cypher looked on with envy. Seeing this, Iris unhappily stomped on his toes.

"Ahem. I'm terribly sorry that you saw me in such a disheveled state. I assume this young gentleman is the one buying a wand."

Ollivander straightened his clothes so they were not quite so messy, then asked with a smile.

"Yes, Mr. Ollivander. My name is Cypher Corvin."

Ignoring Iris, who was gesticulating wildly beside him, Ollivander pondered for a moment but could not find any record of Cypher's parents purchasing wands.

Thus, he abandoned the usual practice of reciting information about a young wizard's ancestors' wands...

"Then, Mr. Corvin, do you usually use your left hand or your right hand?"

"Uh, for doing things, it would be my right hand. But if I were holding a wand, it would be my left hand, Mr. Ollivander."

After wrestling with the question for a moment, Cypher gave Ollivander an answer that left him dumbfounded.

"Oh, right, damn it! I should have known. No wonder so many people's left and right hands are recorded inaccurately, making wand selection so complicated. They didn't understand that I meant which hand they hold a wand with!"