If a Wild Beyonder Had Money

What would happen if a wild Beyonder came into money?

No one had ever considered this question. After all, it was difficult for a wild Beyonder to safely make a lot of money without breaking the law. At most, they could make their life a little less miserable.

But today, Harley had truly experienced the joy of being rich, especially after confirming that wizarding currency had fairly good purchasing power.

The first thing Harley bought was her Hogwarts uniform. After all, according to Dumbledore, it would take some time to make the uniforms after Madam Malkin had taken Harley's measurements.

Besides the uniform Hogwarts required, Harley also ordered several extra sets of sturdier clothes, so she would have something to wear while conducting occult research.

Especially when she heard Madam Malkin mention dragon-hide clothing, Harley really wanted to buy a set and see if she could make it into a Mystical Item.

After all, in the world Harley had come from—at least on the Northern Continent—dragons existed only in legends. Most Beyonders had never seen one.

She had heard that the mythical form of Beyonders on the Spectator Pathway was some kind of giant dragon, but Harley had never gotten particularly detailed information about it.

However, after asking about the prices, Harley put that idea aside for now.

When they were buying clothes, Dumbledore had chosen to wait outside the shop, so he hadn't witnessed Harley's spending habits.

But during the rest of their outing, Dumbledore saw them for himself.

While buying ordinary school supplies, Harley picked up not only a cauldron and a brass balance but also a few objects that looked as though they were brimming with magic.

Harley explained to Dumbledore that she was curious about the magic contained in these things, such as the moving star charts.

But in truth, Harley wanted to study the structure of this world's Mystical Items, and perhaps use Spirit Vision to peer into the magical objects as well.

After all, with a demigod-level old man by her side, Harley didn't dare use Spirit Vision carelessly.

At Flourish and Blotts, besides the required textbooks, Harley bought a large pile of "miscellaneous books," covering everything from the Wizarding World's culture, history, and politics to recipes for rare potions and the properties of unusual materials.

Dumbledore was greatly pleased. At least Harley hadn't lied to him. She'd been given so much money, and she had chosen to spend most of it on books.

Harley, however, was a little disappointed. She hadn't found any Mystical Items with combat capabilities, or any books about making such items.

But Harley didn't believe the Wizarding World had no such things. She could only conclude that the Ministry of Magic, the official organization, had restricted these somewhat dangerous objects in order to maintain stability.

This made Harley rather unhappy. Even ordinary people in Britain weren't banned from owning guns! Still, when she thought of how the churches on the Northern Continent treated Mystical Items, she could understand.

She suspected, though, that there must be places selling these interesting things under the table. Even if there weren't any in Britain, the world was huge. There had to be somewhere that did.

But that wasn't something she needed to worry about in the short term.

After Harley bought a beautiful snowy owl from Eeylops Owl Emporium, Dumbledore glanced at her list.

"Now there's only one important item left: your wand." As he spoke, Dumbledore headed in another direction.

"A wand is the most important item for a wizard. Without one, it's very difficult to cast spells. Of course, plenty of powerful wizards can use Wandless Magic.

"But for young wizards, having a wand is better. At the very least, it can help them considerably."

The two of them arrived at the last shop. It was small and shabby, and the gold lettering on the sign above the door had peeled away. The display window held only a single wand.

The shop looked as though it was about to go out of business, and its appearance did little to inspire confidence in what was inside.

But Harley looked solemn. The shop was filled with an abundance of extraordinary Spirituality.

However, considering that Dumbledore had said most wizards in this world needed wands to cast spells, this shop was essentially an arms dealer, selling Mystical Items meant for combat.

So it made sense that it gave Harley that impression.

As soon as they entered, an old man stood in front of them. He was polishing a wand, with an empty box beside him.

"Good afternoon, dear Albus, and this young lady," the old man greeted them.

"Good afternoon, Garrick. This is Miss Harley Potter." Dumbledore returned the greeting and introduced Harley, then introduced the old man to her. "Harley, this is Mr. Garrick Ollivander, the finest wandmaker in Britain."

"Hello, Mr. Ollivander." Harley dipped into a small curtsey.

"Hello." Ollivander was clearly surprised. He looked at Dumbledore, asking a question with his eyes.

But Dumbledore said nothing. He mouthed, "Watch the papers in a few days."

Ollivander nodded in understanding and asked no more questions. Instead, he began introducing wands, starting with the ones Harley's parents had used.

But Harley was clearly rather picky. After trying dozens of wands, none of them seemed particularly willing to accept her.

Even the ones that did accept her seemed to do so only because they admired her strength.

"What a picky young witch," Ollivander remarked thoughtfully. "Try this one.

"Holly, Phoenix Feather, eleven inches. The Phoenix Feather in this wand came from the same Phoenix as the one in another wand.

"That other wand was sold to the famous Dark Lord, and it left you with a lightning-shaped scar.

"But now, that scar seems to have disappeared."

As he spoke, Ollivander studied Harley's forehead, though the distinctive lightning scar was no longer there.

After the soul fragment had gone out of control and Harley had found a way to remove it, the scar that no medicine had ever been able to heal had become removable.

Unfortunately, this wand wasn't a good fit either. Its reaction was exactly like the others: it could be used, but it was listless.

Dumbledore noticed this and looked thoughtful.

"Well, Miss Potter, I thought this wand would suit you, but it seems we're no match after all." Ollivander sighed. "Then let's try..."

"Mr. Ollivander," Harley interrupted him abruptly. "I think my wand's core might be connected to a snake."

This wasn't a guess pulled out of nowhere. Harley had remembered her mythical creature form: a snake-haired woman much like Medusa.

So Harley had a feeling that a wand with a snake-based core would suit her better.

Ollivander looked surprised.

"Using material from a snake as a wand core? I rarely do that, though wandmakers in the Americas seem to prefer it.

"But it's certainly worth a try. After all, that's your intuition, isn't it?

"I believe I still have a few wands with cores made from snake nerves."

As he spoke, Ollivander began searching through the pile of wands. At last, he found a dusty box.

He gently brushed the dust off the box and opened it. Inside lay a slender wand.

Ollivander gently ran his fingers over the wand as he explained, "My grandfather made this.

"Back then, he wanted to reproduce the Four Founders' wands, so he was always trying to imitate the materials they were made from.

"But after he finished making one batch of wands, he went out for a drink to relax—and suddenly went mad."

"Mad?" Harley asked in confusion. A look of interest appeared on Dumbledore's face, too. He had never heard Ollivander speak about his grandfather's history.

"Yes, mad," Ollivander said softly.

"But St. Mungo's Hospital diagnosed him with a brain problem caused by working too hard and then drinking far too much.

"The wand I'm holding was one of the last batch he made. It was also the last wand in that batch to have a core made from snake nerves.

"But I don't know what kind of snake the nerves came from, because this is the only box without a label for the source and type of its core."

As he spoke, Ollivander handed the wand to Harley.

"Give it a try! A Snakewood Wand, with a core made from the nerves of some kind of snake. Twelve inches long.

"The wands my grandfather made in his final batch were all very powerful, so I imagine this one is no exception."