Draco and the Wand

"Then, I'm off."

Gently embracing Great Aunt Bathilda, Klein grabbed a handful of powder and tossed it into the blazing fireplace.

In an instant, ghastly green flames roared to life!

"Diagon Alley."

Speaking the destination clearly and slowly, he stepped calmly into the flames and vanished from sight in a moment.

Diagon Alley, Ollivanders Wand Shop.

"This wand is absolutely dreadful. I seriously doubt why it was ever made."

Young Master Draco Malfoy scowled as he tossed a gray wand into a box lined with velvet and silk, his tone far from friendly.

Beside him, Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy also furrowed her brow, turning her gaze to the somewhat embarrassed "wandmaker," Mr. Garrick Ollivander, her dissatisfaction nearly tangible.

"My mistake. Then, try this one."

Putting away the gray wand, Mr. Ollivander produced a new box.

"Hornbeam, ten and a half inches, Dragon Heartstring—a rather classic combination. In fact, my own wand is made this way—"

Before he could finish, Draco Malfoy snatched the box from Ollivander's hands and began another attempt.

Unfortunately, this wand was also uncooperative.

"Mr. Ollivander, my husband and I both purchased our wands from you. Your craftsmanship is commendable, but I do hope you'll show a bit more sincerity. Of course, price is not an issue."

Meeting Ollivander's helpless gaze, Mrs. Narcissa Malfoy spoke slowly, her expression supremely haughty. Yet when she turned to her only son, her face softened into one of doting affection as she gently stroked Draco Malfoy's sleek, pale blond hair.

"Darling, be a little more patient, won't you?"

"But!"

Draco Malfoy admitted that his mood had soured ever since leaving Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

But it wasn't his fault—it was that boy with the glasses who had ruined this perfect day.

"Ting."

Just then, the shop's greeting bell rang.

Ollivander and the Malfoy mother and son instinctively looked toward the door, only to see a youth in a light linen hunting jacket with a short ponytail walk in.

"Mr. Ollivander, I've come to pick up my custom wand."

His bearing was steady, his tone composed.

Effortlessly, the youth became the focal point of the small shop.

"Ah, Mr. Grindelwald, a pleasure to see you. But please wait a moment—Mr. Malfoy is still selecting his ideal wand."

Though fetching a box would have been the simplest thing, Ollivander chose to politely decline.

Clearly, he had his own principles.

With a slight bow, Ollivander offered Klein an apologetic smile.

"I'm not in a hurry. I suppose I can wait a while."

Klein nodded in acknowledgment and sat quietly on the only bench in the shop.

"Hey, are you also a new student at Hogwarts?"

The unusual aura about Klein felt strangely familiar to Draco Malfoy. After only a second's hesitation, he lifted his chin slightly and greeted the other with feigned casualness. The young master thought he had been restrained enough, but his large eyes still betrayed his excitement at meeting a peer.

"Before speaking with someone, I believe a simple self-introduction is the most proper approach."

Hearing the address, Klein looked up at the pale, pointed-faced little boy and straightened slightly.

"Uh."

Draco Malfoy was momentarily at a loss for words, a mix of irritation and annoyance rising within him.

A sharp retort came to his lips, and a faint blush crept across his pale cheeks. Yet, meeting those sapphire-like eyes, he inexplicably held back his temper. Instead, he cleared his throat and deliberately drawled out his introduction.

"Ahem. I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy. And this is my mother, Narcissa Malfoy."

"Klein Grindelwald."

Rising to greet them, Klein's demeanor was neither too familiar nor too distant, his etiquette impeccably precise.

Narcissa Malfoy's eyes lit up.

"Yes, I'm also a new student at Hogwarts, Draco. It's a pleasure to meet you. Your name reminds me of those majestic dragons—I'm sure Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy have great expectations for you.

Now, shall we let Mr. Ollivander continue his work? After all, causing trouble is hardly a good habit. When dealing with a master in their field, I think it's best we grant them the respect they deserve."

Having subtly complimented everyone in the shop without a trace, Klein's expression remained unchanged.

Through the training of his past life, his social acumen was nearly catching up to his magical talent. Having witnessed the scheming among imperial ministers, handling such a small scene was almost too easy.

"Oh, of course. I mean, I might still be choosing for a while. I don't mind if Mr. Ollivander serves you first."

Perhaps because Klein's rhetoric was too polished, even Draco, who had been pampered since childhood, found himself somewhat overwhelmed. He grew uncharacteristically bashful, the flush on his face deepening.

"Is that alright?"

Klein gave a faint smile and turned his questioning gaze to Narcissa Malfoy.

"Of course."

Narcissa Malfoy nodded instinctively, a kind smile spreading across her somewhat sharp, elongated face.

Who could refuse a child like this?

"Thank you."

Klein nodded his thanks to the Malfoy mother and son, then addressed Ollivander.

"Then, Mr. Ollivander, my wand."

"Patience, Mr. Grindelwald, it's right here."

Ollivander's mood today had been nothing short of a rollercoaster.

First, the honor of selecting a suitable wand for the famous Harry Potter had filled him with immense pride, only to be dampened by Draco Malfoy's difficult behavior. Now, Klein's appearance had finally salvaged his spirits.

The old man deftly picked out a pure white brocade box from a large pile of wand boxes and lifted the lid himself.

"Rosewood, twelve and a half inches, Spirit Crow tail feather. I must admit, it's the most beautiful and most unique wand I've ever made."

It was a wand like a work of art—black with a hint of purple in its hue, slender in shape, exuding a faint, elusive fragrance. At the base, a ring of blooming Mandrake flowers coiled, mysterious and deep, while on the shaft, the owner's name was elegantly engraved in gilded small script.

"Klein Grindelwald."

"Wow!"

Seeing the wand, Draco Malfoy's eyes widened, his mouth gaping enough to fit a lightbulb.

He had never imagined a wand could be so

beautiful.

Klein said nothing, casually beckoning the wand from the box with a gesture.

"Whoosh."

As if drawn by some force, the black-purple wand flew straight out of the brocade box, spun in the air a few times, and landed steadily in his right hand.

The moment his fingers touched the wand, a black-purple light filled his gem-like eyes!

At the same time, a hidden inscription quietly emerged on the shaft.

"My Eyes Hold No Secrets."

"Not bad."

A satisfied smile crossed his face as Klein withdrew his magic, and all the supernatural phenomena vanished instantly, as if the previous display had been mere illusion.

"Here's the final payment, Mr. Ollivander. Thank you for crafting such a perfect wand for me."

Pulling a large bag of gold coins from his enchanted trouser pocket, Klein nodded to Ollivander and turned his gaze to the Malfoy mother and son, still in a state of profound shock.

"Well then, Mrs. Malfoy, I'll take my leave. Draco, see you at Hogwarts."

With the same flawless, impeccable manners, Klein turned and walked away.

When he reached the door, he suddenly looked back, paused for a few seconds as if recalling something, and spoke softly to Draco Malfoy once more.

"If you're having trouble choosing, try Hawthorn Wood. I think it would suit you well."

With that, before waiting for a reply, he stepped out of Ollivanders Wand Shop and melted into the bustling crowd outside.