Buying Wands in the East Market, Robes in the West, Textbooks in the South, and a Giant Bird in the North

Charlie followed Professor McGonagall into the shop.

Inside the narrow store, every available space was crammed with slender boxes, stacked high like mountains.

The air was thick with the scent of ancient wood and magic.

At the center of the shop, a small, black-haired boy was gripping a wand, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

Beside him sat a giant of a man, so towering he nearly brushed the ceiling.

The moment the giant spotted Professor McGonagall, he scrambled to his feet.

"Professor McGonagall!"

Hagrid greeted her enthusiastically, but as he stood, he knocked the chandelier overhead into a wild sway.

The entire shop's light and shadow rocked back and forth.

"Hello, Hagrid," Professor McGonagall replied warmly.

Her gaze fell on the black-haired boy, and she thought to herself: So this is Harry Potter.

Back then, he was such a tiny thing sent to the Dursleys, and now he's grown... well, still tiny.

Damn it, aren't the Dursleys feeding this child?

He should be a healthy, growing boy, but now he looks severely malnourished.

His clothes are ridiculously oversized, clearly hand-me-downs.

Harry had already chosen his wand and was about to leave with Hagrid.

Before going, he glanced curiously at Charlie, who had just entered.

Is this a new student too?

A wave of surprise washed over Harry.

This boy his age was really handsome, with neatly combed black hair and deep, spirited black eyes.

His clothes were also very proper, and every move carried an air of nobility.

Compared to his own shabby appearance, it was like night and day.

Noticing Harry's stare, Charlie smiled at him in a friendly way.

He had clearly heard the shopkeeper's address—this must be the famous protagonist, Harry Potter.

Seeing Charlie's smile, Harry's cheeks flushed slightly, and he nodded back hurriedly before following Hagrid out of the shop.

Charlie was taken aback.

Why are you blushing, you teapot-bubbling fool!

Has the British sentiment already spread to eleven-year-olds?

"Professor McGonagall, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Ollivander slowly greeted his customers. He looked quite old, with silver-white hair messily draped over his shoulders, and his pale eyes held a wisdom that seemed to see through everything.

"Mr. Ollivander," Professor McGonagall nodded in acknowledgment.

"This is Charlie White, a new student this year."

Ollivander's gaze settled on Charlie, a flicker of interest in his eyes.

"Mr. White, it's a pleasure to serve you. Allow me to select a suitable wand for you."

He pulled out a tape measure, which began automatically measuring Charlie's body.

"The wand chooses the wizard, Mr. White," Ollivander said as he measured.

"Every wand is unique, just like every wizard."

After the measurements, Ollivander walked over to the wand boxes and began carefully selecting.

"Try this one. Twelve inches, willow, unicorn hair."

Charlie took the wand. As soon as he waved it, the surrounding wand boxes started shaking wildly. Ollivander quickly snatched the wand back.

"No, no, clearly not this one."

"What about this? Eleven and a third inches, birch, dragon heartstring."

Charlie tried again. This time, it was worse. The entire shop's windows began to tremble, the glass humming with an unsettling vibration.

"Good heavens, not this one either," Ollivander frowned.

"Your magic power is very strong, Mr. White. You need a wand that is powerful enough."

Over the next ten minutes or so, Charlie tried one wand after another.

Ollivander's expression grew increasingly grave as he searched deeper into the shop.

He muttered to himself, "Perhaps I should try that one."

From the farthest corner, he retrieved an ancient box thick with dust. Opening it, inside lay a wand of deep, dark color.

"Thirteen inches, elderwood, phoenix tail feather core." Ollivander's voice carried a hint of gravity.

"This is a very special wand, Mr. White. Elderwood is known as the wood of death, while phoenix tail feathers represent rebirth."

Charlie took the wand, and instantly felt a warm current flow from his palm through his entire body.

A golden light shot from the wand's tip, blooming into a beautiful flower shape in the air.

"Perfect!" Ollivander clapped his hands excitedly, "Truly a perfect match!"

Feeling the warmth emanating from the wand in his hand, a surge of excitement welled up in Charlie's heart. Was this truly his own wand?

"This wand is special, Mr. White." Ollivander said seriously.

"Only an extraordinary wizard can successfully pair with an elderwood wand. And phoenix tail feathers only choose those destined for great deeds."

"Seven Galleons, Mr. White." Ollivander closed the wand box.

"Please treasure this wand well."

Charlie paid and carefully stowed the wand away.

Just as he was leaving, Ollivander suddenly spoke, his voice low with a hint of mystery.

"You will accomplish great things, Mr. White."

Charlie: ???

Why did that sound so familiar.

So you say that to everyone, huh?

Ollivander smiled enigmatically. That was just good business.

Whoever came to his Ollivanders Wand Shop wouldn't leave without a compliment, and they'd surely come back here for their next wand.

Otherwise, how do you think he'd been making wands since 382 BC?

Stepping out of Ollivanders Wand Shop, Charlie gripped his wand, his heart brimming with excitement.

Professor McGonagall checked the time.

"Next, we'll go to Flourish and Blotts to buy your textbooks."

Charlie glanced at the book list: Standard Spells, Grade 1, History of Magic, Magical Theory, and other titles.

He silently grumbled to himself: Isn't this just the magical version of language, history, and physics textbooks?

Charlie bought all the required textbooks, spending 13 Galleons in total.

As for extra supplementary materials... well, Charlie had enough self-awareness to know he'd never open them.

There was no way someone who couldn't even be bothered to flip through textbooks in his past life would suddenly love studying in the magical world.

"Next, to Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions." Professor McGonagall said.

Madam Malkin was a plump witch who warmly welcomed Charlie.

"A new Hogwarts student? Step onto the stool, dear."

Charlie stepped onto the stool, and Madam Malkin began taking his measurements.

"I want the best fabric." Charlie said directly.

Professor McGonagall looked a bit surprised.

"Standard fabric will suffice, Mr. White."

"No, Professor." Charlie shook his head. "I prefer comfortable clothes."

Madam Malkin chuckled. "The best fabric is indeed more comfortable and more durable."

What she didn't say was that it also earned her more profit.

Three sets of high-grade wizard robes, plus a wizard hat, dragon-hide gloves, and a cloak, cost 40 Galleons in total.

[Congratulations, Your Majesty, for completing Tyrant Behavior: Extravagant Spending. You have earned 5 Tyrant Points!]

Charlie inwardly rejoiced.

So that's how it worked. The system approved of this kind of behavior.

Next, they bought a cauldron, scales, telescope, and other study supplies, spending 10 Galleons.

"Finally, let's buy a pet." Professor McGonagall said.

"An owl, a cat, or a toad—you can choose one."

At Eeylops Owl Emporium, all kinds of owls were chattering noisily.

Charlie's gaze was immediately drawn to the largest eagle owl in the shop.

That eagle owl was a mix of brown and black, its wingspan over a meter wide, with bright amber eyes full of spirit.

It stood proudly on its perch, looking down on everyone.

"I want that one." Charlie pointed at the eagle owl without hesitation.

The shopkeeper stared at him in surprise.

"Are you sure, young man? That's an Eastern Eagle Owl, the largest breed of owl. It has a very bad temper."

"Usually only adults buy them."

"This one." Charlie said firmly.

This was a mysterious tradition from the East—bigger is better!

[Congratulations, Your Majesty, for completing Tyrant Behavior: Greed for Size and Quantity. You have received 3 Tyrant Points!]

In the end, Charlie spent 15 Galleons to buy this Eagle Owl.

He named it "Storm," because it looked like a storm about to break.

Storm was surprisingly docile with Charlie, standing obediently on his shoulder and occasionally gently preening his hair with its beak.

"It seems to like you," the shopkeeper said with a smile.