After enjoying a delicious lunch in this unusual corner of the Wizarding World, Annie had followed some strange wizards out of curiosity and discovered this place. It was called Diagon Alley. Judging by the looks of it, it seemed to be a special market where wizards gathered to trade magical goods.
Seeing this street, so full of exotic magic, Annie felt as if she were seeing the world anew. Even on the Valoran Continent, there didn't seem to be anywhere that magic was woven so deeply into everyday life, with every little detail covered. There, mages lived alongside ordinary people, but the place was nothing like this world, whose society was made up entirely of wizards.
Just look at the brooms sweeping the streets by themselves, the animated shop signs that called out to attract customers, the flying, talking books, the suitcases that followed their owners around, and all the mages—or wizards?—filling the streets. Annie was dazzled! So magic could make life this convenient. How had she never thought of that before?
The wizards of this world were truly peculiar! These unusual wizards had used magic to hide themselves somewhere ordinary people couldn't find them, completely separating the ordinary world from the magical one. The two could coexist without affecting each other, and it saved them a lot of unnecessary trouble.
Besides, they seemed to use most of their magic to make life more convenient. That was unlike Valoran. As far as Annie knew, magic in Valoran was more focused on combat. Even she had studied mostly battle spells, or spells related to fighting. There were relatively few spells for making everyday life easier—very few indeed.
Back at the Leaky Cauldron, Annie had been too focused on eating lunch and dealing with those Chocolate Frogs that struggled to notice the hidden Diagon Alley. But when she saw more than twenty people emerge from the fireplace during the meal, walk around the corner of the Leaky Cauldron's bar, and disappear into the courtyard beyond, she finally realized something was amiss.
Annie had noticed because the courtyard beyond was so small that it couldn't possibly hold that many people. So she figured there had to be some kind of hidden space inside. Under Annie's assault of gold coins, the owner of the Leaky Cauldron, Old Tom, had very humbly demonstrated how to find and open the entrance to Diagon Alley.
Not long after arriving in this place called Diagon Alley, Annie found herself in Ollivanders Wand Shop, arguing with old Mr. Ollivander about something. Neither of them would back down; they were red-faced and bickering at each other.
At first, old Mr. Ollivander had assumed Annie had come to buy a wand. He knew the little girl looked a bit young and wasn't nearly old enough to start school, so technically she didn't need a wand yet.
But there were always people—wealthy families or old, noble houses—who prepared a wand for their child in advance, so the child could get an early start with magic. It was quite common. After all, for families with that kind of privilege, it was easy to find a way around the Ministry of Magic's monitoring of underage wizards!
Once he started serving the little girl, things quickly took a turn for the worse... Ever since she'd arrived, this girl named Annie had blown up more than a dozen wands! That's right—blown them up! A quick count of the wand handles on the floor showed that she'd turned more than a dozen expensive wands into utterly useless piles of splinters... with only the grips left relatively intact!
Ordinary children might cause a bit of magical turbulence, or make a few sparks or flashes of lightning appear by accident. But this little girl was different. The moment a wand reached her hands, all she had to do was give it the light wave he'd instructed her to make—and the wand blew into splinters!
Actually, if she'd only blown up a few wands, Ollivander wouldn't have thought much of it. He'd made the wands himself, after all. If they blew up, so be it. It would only cost him a little in materials. What he truly couldn't stand was the little girl's blatant mockery of his craft!
"You call these wands? They're just pieces of rotten wood wrapped around some magical material for channeling magic! What use are they besides channeling magic? They don't amplify magic, they don't strengthen spells, they have no runes carved into them—and don't even get me started on enchantments! The only difference between them is how well they channel magic, right?" Those were Annie's exact words, and they were what had completely offended old Mr. Ollivander.
"Just whose little brat are you? What could a child your age possibly know? Let me tell you, wizards can't do without wands! Without a wand, a wizard can't cast spells! You're right that they only differ in how well they channel different kinds of magic." Ollivander paused to catch his breath, then continued.
"But it's precisely because their channeling ability differs that every wizard has to find the wand best suited to their own nature, the one that channels their magic most effectively! Only then can a wizard cast spells more easily and reliably! A wizard without a wand is barely any different from a Squib!" The little girl's words had hit a sore spot, but he was still stubbornly digging in his heels. Old men were just that hardheaded!
His wands truly didn't amplify magic or strengthen spells, but their excellent ability to channel magic was already quite remarkable! Even Dumbledore's legendary Elder Wand was said to be capable of tremendous feats of magic, and its wielder could easily cast powerful spells—that was all! At its core, the Elder Wand simply channeled magic better and was more compatible with its wielder. That was what made it easy to cast powerful spells, and it was exactly what Ollivander had spent his life striving for!
Besides, the reason he was so angry was that the little girl's words had been downright offensive. It was true! Put bluntly, Ollivander's wands really were just pieces of wood wrapped around different magical materials.
For example: dragon heart sinew, Dragon Heartstring, dragon nerves, Unicorn Hair, Veela hair, snake nerves, Phoenix Feather, Thestral Tail Feather, and so on... These magical materials all had different channeling properties, and when paired with different kinds of wood, they could be combined to make all sorts of wands. No two wands were exactly alike, and each wand channeled each wizard's magic differently. That was the very foundation of Ollivander's business!
That was why Ollivander required wizards to choose, from the vast number of wands he had made, the one best suited to them and most compatible with the way their magic flowed. If a wand and wizard weren't compatible, their spells would be weaker—or might not work at all.
Over the countless years, Ollivander had built up a wealth of wandmaking experience, and he could now craft wands with better and better channeling properties. Combined with his superb skill at carving wood, his wands had earned increasing recognition from wizards. These were his trade secrets, the source of the pride and conviction he held dear! And now, a little girl had dismissed his traditional craft as worthless. How could he not be furious?
"Hmph! So what if they channel magic well? They're still just a pile of rotten wood! Don't think wrapping them in a bunch of strange things makes them special! And who told you that you can't cast spells without a wand? I don't want your stuff!" Annie really wasn't impressed by these short, rotten sticks. They were ugly and light in her hand, and they didn't feel right at all!
They were nothing like the wands Annie had imagined!
As Annie saw it, besides the basic requirement of being compatible with the flow of magic, a wand needed a powerful magic gem or something else as its energy core. Once it had an energy core, it also needed defensive or offensive magic—or magic arrays—inscribed on it, so it could make casting easier and strengthen spells.
The details could vary depending on the wand's elemental affinity. For example, besides the increase in spell power that most wands offered, the Frozen Scepter leaned toward freezing effects; the Void Staff leaned toward breaking magic; the Angel Staff leaned toward increasing magical power and providing protection; and so on... There was no need to list them all. Only things like these deserved to be called wands! Not a piece of wood wrapped in a bunch of strange stuff!
Annie had entered the shop with high expectations. The sign outside read: "Ollivanders, makers of fine wands since 382 B.C." This was a shop that had been around for over a thousand years, wasn't it? She'd assumed it must be impressive, and that its treasured wand had to be at least an artifact.
But what had she found instead? Just look at the things Ollivander made! They had only the most basic property of channeling magic, and even that differed from wand to wand and depended on the user?
Put nicely, it was "the wand choosing the wizard." In reality, it was just a matter of guessing which one, from a huge pile of products of inconsistent quality, was the best match for the wizard. That might fool people who knew nothing about magic, but did he think he could fool Annie? Hmph! Not a chance!
Besides, she had never deigned to use a wand to cast spells. She just grabbed a Fireball and hurled it! Using her hands was much more convenient. Who needed a stupid wand? By the time they got around to pulling out their wands, Annie would have had plenty of time to throw several Fireballs!
Annie still had a wand made from an Infinity Stone lying in her Spatial Pocket. It could raise shields, control souls, and had infinite energy! Now that was what a wand should be. It could strengthen spells to a certain extent, and if she got annoyed, she could even use it to hit people! If she took it out, wouldn't it scare this stubborn old man to death? Oh... right! It didn't seem to have infinite energy anymore, but its power to control souls was still very much intact!
"Fine, fine, fine! You don't want it, then get out! Go on! I'm not selling you a wand, not even if you beg. Go find one that suits you somewhere else! My shop is too small; it doesn't have what you need. Go on, get out! Little brats like you aren't welcome here!" Ollivander was so angry that his hair was nearly standing on end. He dropped all pretenses and began driving her out. In all his long life, he'd never driven away a customer before.
He no longer cared about the dozen or so wands she'd just blown up. He was done with this sale! Anyway, he had a monopoly on the business. He could charge whatever he wanted for wands from Ollivanders! He'd make back that small cost eventually. Ollivander was the only wand shop in the British Wizarding World. There was nowhere else! Buy one if you want; if not, get out!
Now, just thinking about what the little girl had said made Ollivander furious. A bunch of rotten wood wrapped in strange things? What kind of talk was that? He would never admit it—and he would never tolerate anyone slandering his family's craft like that!
So not only was he kicking her out, he'd decided he would never sell the girl another wand. He had memorized her face. If she came back to buy a wand when she was old enough to start school, he'd make her buy one abroad. He simply wouldn't sell her one here! That was the confidence a monopoly gave him. If she wanted to buy one, she'd have to come crawling to him, the old man! Hah! A thousand-year-old shop like Ollivanders could afford to be confident.
"Hmph! Fine, don't sell me one! They're just rotten sticks. I wouldn't take them even if they were free. Goodbye!" Annie snapped back. She had barely stepped out of the shop when the door behind her slammed shut with a loud bang! It seemed she'd been blacklisted and had become the least welcome customer at Ollivanders Wand Shop.
Hah! If he wouldn't sell her one, then he wouldn't sell her one. What was he getting so mad about? There were so many other strange and interesting things here. Annie wasn't about to covet his rotten wooden wands. She planned to keep looking around while she still had time and see what other curious things might catch her eye.
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