Dear Ollivander,
I'd recently made some new progress in wandmaking, but regrettably, the wands I made were still not as good as the one I bought from you.
I'd originally wanted to continue discussing Wand Lore with you, but some things had happened recently, and I had no choice but to write this letter. You may be in some trouble. Do you remember what I told you when you last came to Hogwarts?
That may be about to come true.
If you do not wish to mysteriously disappear or be innocently murdered, I suggest you find somewhere to hide for a while, under the pretext of travelling or taking a holiday, or some other excuse.
This is a friendly warning from a Divination practitioner.
If you do not believe this nonsense, please pay attention to the end of June. The omen will appear then.
Whatever the final outcome, all I can do is offer you my blessings in this letter.
P.S. Please do not spread this around. It will only invite unnecessary trouble.
Your old friend,
Albert Anderson.
Once the contents of the letter had been read aloud automatically, the parchment burst into flames.
Ollivander let go in astonishment, allowing the parchment to fall onto the table and swiftly burn into a pile of ashes. He stared blankly at the ashes on the table and fell into brief silence.
Some memories buried deep in the old man's mind were awakened by the letter.
He remembered Mr. Anderson saying something similar to him before.
Back then, Ollivander had gone to Hogwarts to inspect the wands of the Triwizard Tournament Champions, and Albert had taken him aside to warn him.
Was it a scam?
Ollivander did not think so. There was no need for the other man to do that—it was far