Wands and Daily Life

Wands. A vast number of wands.

When Andrew stepped into the shop, the room, comparable to an armory, startled him.

There are enough wands here to form an army of wizards...

Though he had no way of estimating how many wands there were, the boxes displayed before him alone numbered in the thousands, assuming each one contained a finished wand.

As he mentally calculated just how many wands were here, a crisp jingle of bells rang out from somewhere in the back of the shop.

Soon, an old man emerged.

"A new customer," he said, glancing at Andrew before noticing Professor McGonagall behind him. The smile on his face immediately brightened. "Ah, Minerva, good morning. It is such a pleasure to see you."

However, the pleasantries ended before they could begin. As though forcibly changing the subject, the old man said, "So, a brand-new wand—yes, that is essential."

"This new Hogwarts student, I am Ollivander. And how should I address you?"

"Andrew Taylor." Andrew kept smiling. "Am I choosing my companion from among these wands?"

"Of course. The finest, most loyal companion." Ollivander's smile grew even brighter. Clearly, he liked hearing wands described that way.

"Wonderful." Andrew was a little impatient. He raised his right hand, dispersed his magic as he had practiced countless times at the orphanage, then closed his fingers around empty air.

A long box twitched, then broke free from the shelf and flew toward Andrew at a slow but resolute pace. Over the last stretch, it even passed straight through the wooden cases and flew directly into his hand.

He gripped the wand tightly, as if it belonged in his hand. A marvelous sensation traveled up from the wand—it felt not as though he were holding something, but as though his arm had suddenly extended.

"Incredible."

Andrew murmured in admiration. He stroked the wand with his left hand as magic flowed out like water. Instinctively, Andrew pointed the wand at the floor. A blue light slowly spilled forth, and the ground instantly turned into grass. Tender shoots rose just past his ankles, soft beneath his feet, with no trace of what the floor had been before.

"It's perfect." Andrew's face was full of astonishment. "I understand what you meant now, Professor."

"Indeed," Ollivander exclaimed. "Perfect. You only see such a harmonious match once every decade or so..."

"Acacia wood, Dragon heartstring, eleven inches... An exceedingly demanding combination, and an exceedingly powerful one, Mr. Taylor."

"But as an old man, I still hope you will not choose your wand this way. The other wands were simply less suited to you. Called by your magic, they would try to attack the boxes protecting them... That is not a good thing."

Professor McGonagall looked somewhat embarrassed as well. Wizarding families normally told their children stories about choosing wands. Students from Muggle families generally would not so casually try to summon their own wands. More precisely, children from Muggle families would not consciously develop their magic to the point where they could summon wands.

After hastily apologizing, Professor McGonagall led Andrew away. After causing such a scene, she suddenly felt that this child might well end up in Gryffindor...

That made her too ashamed to stay a moment longer.

"I'm sorry, Professor. I thought summoning meant using magic to find the wand that suited me best."

Andrew spoke quietly. He truly felt a little ashamed.

He had read too many novels. He had simply assumed that summoning one's companion meant using magic to sense out the wand that best matched oneself. Who would have thought that at a wand shop, they had to open the boxes one by one to test them?

According to Professor McGonagall, they first measured the rough proportions that would suit someone, then slowly unwrapped and selected from the wands within that range. What he had done was the equivalent of rudely tearing open a pile of packages, picking one out, and happily leaving with it...

"It isn't entirely your fault," Professor McGonagall said, maintaining her composure. "All right, it is getting late. I need to take you back. This afternoon, I must visit another household and bring them to Diagon Alley to shop."

"All right. Thank you, Professor."

After dropping Andrew back at the orphanage, Professor McGonagall hurried away. Andrew asked around and learned that there were not many students recruited from the Muggle world—that was, the non-magical world, as Professor McGonagall had explained—but if each child took half a day, then Professor McGonagall would probably be stationed in Diagon Alley for the next few days.

Still, that was not a major concern for Andrew, who needed to return there. His most pressing problem now was that he had run out of money.

Yes... he was out of money.

Even secondhand books were absurdly expensive. That meant that, over the coming days, aside from learning a little about the Wizarding world, he would have to keep laundering enough money for a second trip to Diagon Alley, as well as the fare to London.

As for earning Galleons and spending Galleons, that also urgently needed to be put on the agenda. But considering the price of reference materials, he decided to visit the secondhand bookstore once more before deciding whether to pursue it.

But all of that could wait. Even previewing his textbooks and learning about the Wizarding world could wait. What he needed to do now was return to his room and write down everything from the questions and answers, so he could review them later.

"Andrew!"

As he carried his things and made some quick calculations, a voice that made his teeth ache reached him.

Oh no...

I got so excited about going out this time that I forgot to buy food...

Sure enough, several muddy, sweat-covered little brats came running over. Andrew gave them a glance and confirmed that they had not played themselves completely wild. Their clothes were as ragged as ever, but still fairly clean, with no signs that they had deliberately dirtied them.

"Nanny said you were taken away by some professor from some school!"

"Yeah! She said you were going to be sent off to a boarding school!"

"Not sent off. I was accepted. This time, I went with her to collect my school robes and books." He lifted the bag of books in his left hand. "They're in here. There are some loose bits inside that could spill out easily, so I need to put everything down first and sort out the books. Then I'll take you out to play this afternoon."

After thinking for a moment, he added, "You go play first. This afternoon, everyone gets an ice cream."

The generous promise stopped the children, who had come intending to rummage for food, from reaching out with their restless hands.

A string of cheers rang out, and the lively little ones dashed away again.

"All right, time to start sorting things out." He smiled and shook his head, then began using shorthand to record the morning's conversation. Once he had confirmed it was accurate, he pulled a knife and some glue from the drawer—he was going out to play that afternoon, so he needed to put new covers on the Wizarding world books he wanted to read.