Not All Wood Can Be Called a Scepter

After thoroughly enjoying a rather unique magical lunch, Annie's curiosity led her to follow some peculiar wizards and discover this place called Diagon Alley. It seemed to be a specialized marketplace where these wizards gathered to trade magical items?

Seeing this street brimming with exotic magical atmosphere, Annie felt a refreshing sense of novelty. Even on the Valoran Continent, there was no place where magic was integrated into daily life to such an extreme, covering every minute detail, was there? Over there, mages mostly lived mixed among ordinary people, nowhere near a world whose social structure was composed purely of wizards.

Watching the brooms automatically sweeping the streets, shop signs actively beckoning customers, flying and talking books, suitcases following their owners, and the countless mages? Wizards? All of it dazzled Annie's eyes! So magic could make life this convenient—why had she never thought of it before?

The wizards of this world were truly peculiar! These unconventional wizards actually used magic to hide themselves from ordinary people's sight, completely separating and dividing the mundane world from the magical one. They coexisted without interfering with each other, reducing a lot of unnecessary trouble.

Moreover, their magic seemed mostly focused on making life easier. That was quite unlike Valoran. As far as Annie knew, Valoran's magic emphasized combat. Even Annie herself had mostly trained in battle spells or spells related to fighting. Spells for convenience were relatively rare, even very rare.

Back at the Leaky Cauldron, Annie had been too focused on enjoying her lunch and dealing with the squirming Chocolate Frogs to notice the hidden Diagon Alley! But when she saw over twenty people emerge from the fireplace during her meal, then walk around the bar counter into the inner courtyard and disappear, she finally realized something was off.

The reason Annie discovered this place was that the inner courtyard was far too small to hold that many people. So, she figured there must be some hidden space inside. Using her gold coins as leverage, the Leaky Cauldron's owner, old Tom, humbly demonstrated for Annie how to find and open the entrance to Diagon Alley.

Having just arrived at this place called Diagon Alley, Annie was now in Ollivanders Wand Shop, arguing heatedly with old Mr. Ollivander. The two were locked in a red-faced, shouting standoff, neither willing to back down.

At first, old Mr. Ollivander thought Annie had come to buy a wand. He knew this little girl looked a bit too young, far from school age, and shouldn't need a wand yet.

But there were always those wealthy families or those with deep aristocratic roots who prepared wands for their children early, allowing them to get a head start on magic. That was common enough. For these privileged folks, finding ways to bypass the Ministry of Magic's monitoring of underage wizards was far too easy!

After starting to serve this young customer, things took a turn for the worse for Ollivander... Because this girl named Annie had already blown up over a dozen wands from the very beginning! You heard that right—blown up! Roughly counting the handles on the floor, she had turned a good dozen valuable wands into useless splinters... Only the grips remained intact!

Ordinary children might cause a bit of magical disturbance, some random sparks, or flashes of lightning. But this little girl was different. As soon as a wand touched her hand, if she gave it even a light wave as he instructed, the wand would instantly explode into fragments!

To be honest, if it were just a few wands exploding, Ollivander wouldn't mind much. He made them himself, so losing a few only cost him materials. What he couldn't stand was the girl's mockery of his craft—blatant mockery!

"You call these wands? They're just rotten wood wrapped around a magical material to channel magic! Besides conducting magic, what use are they? No magic amplification, no spell enhancement, no engraved runes, let alone enchantment! The only difference between them is how well they conduct magic, right?" That was Annie's exact words, and with that, she thoroughly offended old Mr. Ollivander.

"Which brat's family are you from? What could a little thing like you possibly know? Let me tell you, a wizard cannot do without a wand! Without a wand, a wizard can't cast spells! Yes, they are exactly as you said—just different in how they conduct magic." Ollivander paused, caught his breath, and continued.

"But precisely because their conductivity differs, every wizard must find a wand that best matches their own attributes and conducts magic most efficiently! Only then can a wizard cast spells smoothly and effectively! A wizard without a wand is little different from a Squib!" The girl's words had struck a sore spot in Ollivander's heart, but he stubbornly held his ground. Old men his age were just that obstinate!

His wands indeed had no magic amplification or spell enhancement, but excellent magic conductivity alone was already remarkable! You had to know that even the legendary Elder Wand of Dumbledore only allowed its wielder to cast immense power and easily unleash high-powered magic—nothing more! In essence, the Elder Wand had better and more compatible magic conductivity, making it easy to cast powerful spells. That aligned perfectly with what Ollivander had been striving for all along!

What made him so angry was how utterly infuriating this little girl's words were! Put bluntly, Ollivander's wands were indeed just wood wrapped around different magical materials.

For example: dragon heartstring, dragon heart tendon, dragon nerve, unicorn hair, Veela hair, snake nerve, phoenix feather, Thestral tail hair, and so on... These magical materials with varying conductivity, paired with equally distinct woods, could produce different wands. No two wands were exactly alike, and each wand's magical conductivity differed for every wizard. That was the very foundation of Ollivander's existence!

That was why Ollivander insisted wizards choose from his vast collection of wands to find the one best suited to them, the one that matched their magic conductivity most perfectly. If a wand didn't match the wizard, spells would be underpowered or fail entirely.

Over countless years, Ollivander had accumulated rich wand-making experience. He could now craft wands with increasingly better magical conductivity. Combined with his exquisite wood-carving skills, his wands gained more and more recognition from wizards. These were his trade secrets, his pride and belief! And now, his traditional craft was being dismissed as worthless by a little girl? How could he not be furious?

"Hmph! What good is better conductivity? Isn't it still just a pile of rotten wood? Don't think wrapping it in weird stuff makes it impressive! And who told you you can't cast spells without a wand? I don't care for your junk at all!" Annie truly looked down on these short, ugly pieces of wood. They were light and flimsy in her hand, not comfortable at all!

They were nothing like the wands she imagined!

In Annie's view, a wand, besides the basic requirement of magic conductivity, should have a powerful magic gem or something as an energy core. After that, it needed protective or offensive spells or runes engraved on it for easy casting or enhanced power.

This could vary based on the wand's energy attributes. For example: besides the usual spell power boost, a Frozen Scepter leaned toward freezing effects; a Void Staff toward magic penetration; an Angel Staff toward increased mana and protection; and so on... Only things like these could truly be called wands! Not his sticks of wood wrapped in strange odds and ends!

Annie had entered this shop with high expectations because the sign outside read: "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C." A shop that had been around for over a thousand years, right? She thought it must be amazing, with at least a divine artifact as its centerpiece!

But what did she find? What were these things Ollivander made? They only had the most basic magic conductivity, and even that varied, depending on the person?

Put nicely, it was "the wand chooses the wizard." In reality, it was just blindly picking from a batch of inconsistent products to find one that matched! This could only fool ignorant outsiders. Trying to trick Annie? Hah, no way!

Besides, she had never bothered using a wand to cast spells. She just grabbed fireballs and hurled them! Using her hands directly was so much more convenient? Why would she need some stupid wand? By the time those fools fumbled to draw their wands, Annie could have thrown several fireballs already!

In her spatial pocket, she still had a wand made from an Infinity Stone. It could open shields, control souls, and had infinite energy! Now that was a wand! Not only could it enhance spell power to some extent, but if pushed, it could even be used to hit people! If Annie pulled out that wand, wouldn't it scare this stubborn old man to death? Oh... right! It probably didn't have infinite energy anymore, but its soul-controlling power was still solid!

"Fine, fine, fine! You don't care for it, then leave! Get out! This old man won't sell you a wand! Go find one that suits you yourself! My shop is too small for what you need. Go, go! You're not welcome here, you little brat!" Ollivander's hair practically stood on end with rage as he shamelessly started kicking her out. In all his years, this was the first time he'd ever driven away a customer.

He no longer cared about the dozen wands she'd just blown up. He wasn't doing business with her anymore! Anyway, he had a monopoly. Ollivanders set its own prices for wands! He'd recover the cost sooner or later. In the British magical world, Ollivanders was the only wand shop—no competition! Take it or leave it!

Just thinking about that little girl's words made him furious. A pile of rotten wood wrapped in weird stuff? What kind of talk was that? He would never admit it! Nor would he tolerate anyone slandering his ancestral craft!

So not only was he kicking her out, but he also decided he would never sell her a single wand! He'd memorized her face. If she came back at school age wanting to buy a wand, he'd make her go abroad. He just wouldn't sell to her! That was the confidence of a monopoly—if you wanted to buy, you had to beg this old man! Hey! A thousand-year-old shop like Ollivanders had that kind of confidence!

"Hmph! Don't sell then. A pile of rotten wood—I wouldn't want it even for free. Goodbye!" Annie snorted back. The moment she stepped out the door, it slammed shut behind her with a loud bang! It seemed she'd been blacklisted as Ollivanders Wand Shop's most unwelcome customer.

Pfft! Don't sell then, no need to be so grumpy! There were plenty of other fascinating things here. Annie wasn't about to care about his rotten wood wands. She planned to use the remaining time to keep exploring and see what other interesting oddities were worth her attention.