Today's Guests at Ollivanders Wand Shop Were Rather Outlandish

"That leaves just one final wand."

Old Barty Crouch contemplated the items on his list, lifting his head to look at a shop near Eeylops Owl Emporium. "Let's head to Ollivanders Wand Shop and select a wand that suits you..."

This journey was finally drawing to a close.

Old Barty Crouch had never imagined that shopping could be so exhausting.

"Any wand is the same to me."

Carrying a birdcage in one hand, Vinson Wright spoke indifferently. "The greatest use a wand can serve is making people look at me and think I'm a proper wizard—the kind who loses all combat capability the moment they lose their wand..."

Old Barty Crouch recalled the scene of his battle against Vinson, his tone carrying a lingering chill. "When they think that, they are already standing on the brink of death..."

Generally speaking.

A wand was the medium through which a wizard controlled magic, and any wizard would hold their wand in high regard, with Voldemort and Dumbledore being no exceptions.

Yet for Vinson...

The disguise effect of a wand far outweighed its practical utility.

That was because Vinson had no need for any medium whatsoever to release magic to any degree or cast any spell—a fact that Old Barty had experienced firsthand.

On that day...

The wind blew fiercely.

On that day...

Old Barty Crouch took a terrible beating.

Because he had no understanding of Vinson Wright's abilities whatsoever, throughout the entire battle, Old Barty was unable to cast even a single complete spell in front of Vinson, who was still just a child.

In that clash, Old Barty Crouch experienced firsthand the agony of the Crucio, and he finally understood just how cruel his son Barty Crouch Jr. must have been when he used the Crucio on other wizards...

"Let's go."

Vinson Wright glanced at Old Barty Crouch, who had fallen into his memories, and spoke up to rouse him. "Hopefully, we can find a sturdy wand inside."

"Sturdy..."

Hearing that description did not fill Old Barty with confidence. After a moment of thought, he offered an explanation anyway. "Still, I suggest you don't underestimate the utility of a wand..."

Just as they approached Ollivanders Wand Shop, a dark-haired boy and a middle-aged man walked out through its doors...

They were none other than Cedric Diggory and his father.

The dark-haired boy's face was flushed as he clutched a wand box, walking stiffly beside his father with a look of utter helplessness in his eyes.

Had this father and son been picking wands inside Ollivanders the entire time?

Vinson Wright and Old Barty Crouch had already finished purchasing everything else, yet Cedric Diggory was only just now selecting a suitable wand from the shop?

Could finding a suitable wand really be that difficult?

"Mr. Crouch, Mr. Wright, we meet again."

Amos Diggory caught sight of them and greeted them cheerfully before boasting of his and his son's success. "We finally managed to pick out the absolute best wand for Cedric—twelve and a quarter inches, made of hornbeam with a core of male unicorn hair, symbolizing pure truth..."

"..."

Cedric's expression grew even more awkward.

"It sounds like an exceptional wand."

Old Barty Crouch's brow twitched imperceptibly. He had initially maintained his politeness toward Amos, but now he felt somewhat at a loss in the face of Amos's showing off...

This fellow...

Seemed entirely incapable of caring about how others felt.

Everyone in the British Wizarding World knew Old Barty Crouch's situation—that he had personally sent his own son to Azkaban and left him to die there...

"Congratulations."

Vinson Wright cut off Amos Diggory, turned his gaze to Cedric Diggory, and tilted his head. "By the way, do you two still have other things to buy?"

"Yes, I still have quite a few items on my list to prepare..."

Cedric gave a hurried nod, a flicker of gratitude coloring the look he cast toward Vinson. "Then we'll be off... See you at term-time, Vinson."

With that, Cedric gently patted his father's arm, led his somewhat flustered father in a farewell to Vinson, and hurried away toward the other shops.

"What is Mr. Crouch thinking?"

Watching Old Barty Crouch standing motionless in place, Vinson Wright chuckled softly. "Do you feel that Cedric's father praises his son far too much?"

"No... perhaps so."

Old Barty Crouch shook his head, then quickly nodded, his voice turning somewhat despondent. "In truth, Barty was quite exceptional once as well, but I never praised him aloud even once..."

Indeed.

His son Barty had once been exceptional too.

Regrettably, Old Barty Crouch had never offered a single word of praise to his face, ultimately driving Barty Crouch Jr. completely astray into the service of Voldemort.

Old Barty Crouch was a man who always appeared exceptionally stern and dignified before anyone, his own son included. Right now, however, he actually felt a twinge of envy for Amos Diggory's naive and straightforward nature.

Even though it seemed utterly foolish and could easily grate on one's nerves...

Yet it allowed him to express a father's love for his son with such freedom.

"Come, let's go pick out a wand first."

Vinson Wright shook his head, choosing not to offer comfort to Old Barty Crouch, and instead stepped forward to push open the door of Ollivanders Wand Shop.

Consequently.

The moment Vinson stepped inside, he was met with a scene of absolute chaos.

The boxes containing wands on the shelves were in disarray, wand boxes were scattered indiscriminately across the floor, and the entire shop looked as though it had just been ransacked.

Even Vinson Wright couldn't help a fleeting illusion upon seeing this: had that fellow Voldemort already resurrected and launched an attack?

The only occupant of the shop was an elderly man who was trembling as he gathered the wand boxes from the floor. Hearing the door open, the old man spoke up instinctively, "Amos, I assure you that one is definitively the absolute best match for Cedric; there is no need for him to be chosen by any other wands..."

"..."

Vinson and Old Barty exchanged glances.

It was abundantly clear.

Amos Diggory had put this elderly wandmaker through a grueling ordeal in his quest to find a wand for his son Cedric.

The old man picking up the items was none other than Ollivander.

One of the three finest wandmakers in the entire European Wizarding World.

"Hm?"

Hearing the sudden silence within the shop, Old Ollivander could not help lifting his head, whereupon he laid eyes upon a grey-haired boy and the familiar Old Barty Crouch.

The sight caused Old Ollivander to exhale an instinctive sigh of relief as he offered an apologetic explanation, "My apologies, I thought you were Amos..."

Just moments prior, Amos Diggory had endlessly insisted that Old Ollivander find a superior, more fitting wand for his son to ensure Cedric received the absolute best match.

An incompatible wand would leave a wizard unable to adapt to their magic, causing their power to occasionally lie dormant or erupt in out-of-control surges that wreaked havoc on the surrounding environment.

Because they had tested so many...

The wand shop had ended up in its current state.

"It's quite all right."

Old Barty Crouch slowly shook his head, fully understanding Old Ollivander's frame of mind. "Mr. Diggory is indeed rather overly insistent at times."

"At times, it certainly isn't a virtue..."

After giving a compliant nod, Old Ollivander offered a defensive counter for Amos Diggory. "Still, he truly does have an exceptional son. That fellow Cedric Diggory is well worth a father going to such lengths..."

At this point, Old Ollivander reached up to massage his temples with his fingers, unable to suppress a glowing commendation. "That boy is truly extraordinary... How should I put it... He is a lad who already possesses the poise of an accomplished wizard. I merely observed him for a short while... and it felt as though he embodies the very standard we hope for in the little ones."

Finishing his praise for Cedric, Old Ollivander stepped over the scattered wand boxes on the floor, steadying himself against the shelves as he walked toward them with a trembling gait.

The old man's gaze slowly drifted to the grey-haired boy standing beside Old Barty, a pair of silvery eyes relentlessly scanning Vinson Wright's face.

"This is..."

"This is Vinson."

Old Barty glanced at the grey-haired youth by his side and continued in a low voice. "Vinson Wright. He is also a new student entering Hogwarts this year."

"I would like to select a wand."

Vinson Wright took the initiative, earnestly setting forth his own requirements. "One with a texture hard enough that even if my magic is entirely exhausted, I can still use the wand itself to break someone else's bones..."