The Magic Wand

"Let's go. We'll head to Gringotts first to exchange some money. I imagine you can't wait," Professor McGonagall said, knowing Anduin had quite a bit saved up.

"Gringotts is the only wizarding bank in Britain, run by a group of goblins. It's said to be the second safest place in the world, after Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall explained as they walked.

Under Professor McGonagall's guidance, Anduin arrived at a fork in the street. One sign read Knockturn Alley, the other Diagon Alley's main road. At the junction stood a white building, its entrance guarded by goblins in scarlet-and-gold uniforms.

They passed through the first set of gleaming bronze doors, where the goblin guards bowed as they entered. Beyond the second set of silver doors lay a spacious marble hall. About a hundred goblins sat behind long counters, scribbling into massive ledgers. Some weighed coins on scales, others examined gems with eyepieces.

It seemed the turmoil in the outside world hadn't much affected these goblins' daily lives.

Guided by Professor McGonagall, Anduin approached a counter, presented his Hogwarts acceptance letter, and claimed a 12-Galleon grant for students in need. Though Anduin had money to exchange, since he'd already applied, it was free for the taking. Afterward, he exchanged 100 Galleons with his pounds. For an eleven-year-old, that was a small fortune.

Clutching the leather pouch full of Galleons, Anduin stepped out of Gringotts. He pulled out a coin and examined it closely. "Looks like pure gold, but it feels a bit different from regular gold."

"Those are all minted by goblins using their unique craft. They're said to be enchanted with goblin magic to prevent forgery with ordinary gold."

"I imagine you're eager to get a wand of your own. In the wizarding world, you can't get far without one," Professor McGonagall said, amused as she watched Anduin clutching his fortune.

Chatting as they went, Professor McGonagall led Anduin to Ollivanders Wand Shop, a shop steeped in history. Anduin followed her inside.

The shop looked cramped, narrow, and shabby. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the window for display. Inside, shelves stretching to the ceiling were crammed with thousands of long, narrow boxes. Behind the counter, a thin old man silently polished a wand.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander. We've come to buy a wand."

"Ah, Minerva. Nine and a half inches, spruce wood. It's been a while. Time flies—another batch of new students arriving!" Ollivander looked down at Professor McGonagall, then glanced at Anduin beside her. "These days haven't been easy. Did you hear about yesterday..."

"Yesterday's disturbance won't last. You must have faith in the Ministry of Magic and Dumbledore!" Professor McGonagall cut in, glancing at Anduin, afraid such negative talk might dampen the young wizard's confidence in the magical world.

"Yes, Dumbledore. If he weren't holding things together, I'd have closed up and left long ago. Enough of that—let me see what wand suits this young gentleman." Ollivander dropped the topic and turned to Anduin.

"Hello, sir. I'm Anduin Wilson."

"Hello, Mr. Wilson. Young people with manners like yours are rare these days." Mr. Ollivander smiled and pulled a long tape measure marked with silver increments from his coat pocket.

"Hmm... which hand do you favor?"

"I favor my right hand."

Ollivander began measuring Anduin, starting from shoulder to fingertip, then wrist to elbow. "So young and already this sturdy—impressive!" He felt Anduin's firm arm muscles and couldn't help praising him.

Anduin's skin crawled. Is this old man off? Measuring with a tape is one thing, but feeling me up? Getting groped just to buy a wand?

Ollivander worked quickly. While Anduin was still lost in thought, he pulled a wand from a shelf and handed it over.

"Try this one. Ash wood, phoenix feather, eleven and a half inches. Tough and brave."

Anduin took it and gave a light wave. A burst of flame erupted from the wand tip.

"Well, that doesn't suit you." Ollivander promptly took the wand back and grabbed another.

"How about this one? Elm wood, dragon heartstring, nine and three-quarter inches. A symbol of wisdom and grace."

Anduin had just taken it when Ollivander snatched it away. "Not this one either."

"Try this. Red oak, male unicorn hair, ten and a half inches. Quick and agile."

Anduin took it and gave a light flick. The vase on the counter exploded.

"Alright, you're sharp enough—perhaps too sharp." Ollivander reclaimed the wand.

"Don't worry, you'll find the right one here." Anduin tried several more, but Ollivander deemed none suitable.

"Try this one. Lightning-struck wood from a sturdy ebony tree, thunderbird feather, twelve and a quarter inches. Firm and unyielding resolve, very resilient. Made from materials Newt once gave me—truly valuable.

It took a lot of effort to craft this wand, though it occasionally sparks. Not easy to earn its recognition. A picky customer deserves a picky wand." Ollivander handed over a wand like black jade.

The moment Anduin saw the jade-like wand, he was drawn to its depth. As soon as he took it, he felt as if the wand shared his very blood, becoming an extension of his body.

Anduin gave a light wave. A faint electric light flickered at the wand tip.

"This is the one. I'm always genuinely happy when a wand finds its rightful owner. It's clear it likes you." Mr. Ollivander smiled cheerfully. He was a true craftsman, delighted to see his work find a home.

"Thank you, Mr. Ollivander. I love it too." Anduin couldn't stop playing with his new wand, overjoyed.

"Ebony, or black wood, is excellent for combat magic and transfiguration. I'm sure it will shine in your hands. Also, a wizard's first wand costs a standard 7 Galleons—the rest is subsidized by Hogwarts. Don't lose or damage it!" Ollivander reminded him.

"Don't worry, Mr. Ollivander." Anduin paid happily, thanked Mr. Ollivander again, and left the shop with Professor McGonagall.