First Encounter with the Second Generation Dark Lord (Seeking Collections, Recommendations, and Follow-ups - Not Demanded)

Looking at the little girl before him, docile as a kitten seeking praise, Cypher instinctively raised his hand and patted Iris on the head.

Iris froze on the spot as if struck by a Petrification Curse.

At that moment, Cypher, having come to his senses, also sensed the impropriety. His mature mind allowed him to pull back his focus, withdrawing his hand. He stared at his own palm, lost in thought.

Iris bit her lip and glanced uneasily at Cypher. She was about to explain herself to him.

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

Though it held a monopoly in the British wizarding world, this little shop was quite unremarkable. Dusty display windows, a sign with peeling gold paint—it looked like a store that had been liquidated after going out of business.

Straightening her posture, Iris came to Cypher's side, stepped forward, and led him into the shop.

Just as they were about to pass each other, Cypher's eyes flickered, and he blocked Iris's path.

Unable to stop in time, Iris felt as if she had collided with a fence. Halting, nursing her bruised self, she was about to ask Cypher why.

Suddenly, a massive and violent surge of magical energy burst forth from inside the shop. Along with it came a wild, ecstatic shout.

"Yes, that's it! Just like that, so full of power!"

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

Then, the shop door was flung open violently. A tall, thin boy rushed out, his handsome face marked by eyes blazing red. His body trembled slightly from the inertia of excitement. He examined the yew wand in his hand with a fanatical, exhilarated expression at the doorway, glanced at Cypher, snorted coldly, and strode away without a second look.

"Who was that? How does he have such strong magical power right after getting a wand?"

Cypher shook his head. He didn't know either. The reason he had stopped Iris was partly to protect her, but also to avoid unnecessary trouble after careful thought. Cypher had a guess about the boy's identity—this was likely Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Second Dark Lord. If Iris had pointed her wand at him, it might have made him remember her. Without sufficient strength, surviving in the supernatural world required caution.

Tom had gained the first assistant in his life's quest for dominance. Now he was so excited to possess this powerful yew wand, though he would mercilessly abandon it later. I wonder what my wand will be like?

With no one else around, Cypher led Iris toward the shop door.

As the door slowly drew near, Cypher's heart, which he had thought would remain calm, began to stir restlessly. After all, that was a wand—the primary means of casting magic!

Creak—

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

The first thing to come into view were thousands of boxes. They were cluttered and dense, stacked from the floor to the ceiling. Fortunately, there was a relatively open space nearby for the two to stand, though it was still littered with empty boxes and scattered wands.

Thud—

The door closed. The entire shop fell so silent that a pin drop could be heard, filled with a stagnant, solemn air. The two stood frozen, on high alert.

On the way, Iris had mentioned that when you entered, Ollivander would suddenly appear when you least expected it, giving you a fright.

They waited for a long time, but the shop remained still. Faced with the chaotic scene before them, Iris couldn't suppress her worry. She called out loudly, "Mr. Ollivander, we need to buy a wand. Are you alright?"

"Over... here..."

A faint, thread-like voice came from the clutter ahead.

The two quickly searched for the source. Among a pile of wand boxes, they dug out a battered and bruised Ollivander.

At this time, Ollivander was not an old man but a mature middle-aged one. However, he was now dazed, his face still frozen in a stunned expression.

"Mr. Ollivander? Wake up."

Iris shook Ollivander's shoulder, but he remained sluggish. Gritting her teeth, she stomped her foot, pulled a bottle of bright blue potion from her small bag, uncorked it, and poured it into Ollivander's mouth.

After swallowing the potion, Ollivander shivered, his vacant eyes clearing, and the injuries on his body visibly healed significantly.

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

Ollivander rose, rubbed his face to perk himself up, and muttered quietly to Iris.

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

Cypher's heart jolted. Still, the Deputy Headmaster wasn't an outsider to Hogwarts, and his granddaughter was nothing major. Let her pretend to be from Dumbledore's family if she wanted.

Seeing Iris wasn't paying attention, Cypher pretended not to have heard either.

"You wicked old man, do you want me to switch wands that badly? Or are you admitting your wands are poor quality?"

Hearing this, Iris bristled and snapped at Ollivander with a coquettish shout.

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

Ollivander quickly placated her with a smile.

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

"Hmph, passing my favor on to my friend—you really know how to work the numbers."

Iris tapped the floor rhythmically with her little leather shoes, producing a pattering sound.

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

"I'm a businessman, so of course I consider maximizing my own interests..."

He muttered some obscure creed under his breath.

With difficulty, Ollivander pulled out his own Olive Wand.

As he waved his arm, the wands scattered across the messy floor returned to their wooden cases, then flew back to their respective places.

Cypher watched with envy, and Iris, noticing this, gave his toe an annoyed kick.

"Ahem, I'm sorry you had to see me in such a disheveled state. I assume it's this young gentleman who wishes to buy a wand."

Ollivander straightened his clothes to make them less rumpled, then asked with a genial smile.

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

Ignoring Iris, who was flailing beside him, Ollivander pondered for a moment but found no record of Cypher's parents purchasing a wand.

So he abandoned the tradition of announcing the young wizard's ancestors' wand information...

"Then, Mr. Corvin, are you accustomed to using your left hand or your right hand?"

"Uh, if it's for doing things, then my right hand. But I think if I were to hold a wand, it would be my left hand, Mr. Ollivander."

Cypher hesitated, thought for a moment, and gave Ollivander an answer that left him stunned.

"Oh, right, damn it! I should have known. No wonder so many people get it wrong with left and right, making the wand search overly complicated—they don't understand I mean the hand that holds the wand!"