Diagon Alley Shines for You

Ollivander's expression was complicated. "To be honest, although it was made by the Ollivander Family, it cannot be considered a complete wand."

"My grandfather once mentioned it to me. This wand has a special purpose, and under normal circumstances, I'm afraid it is inferior to an ordinary wand."

Wizet took the box and carefully pulled out the lining.

On the silver-blue velvet lay an exquisitely crafted wand.

The handle of the wand was like a single piece of sapphire, while a gray crystal structure spiraled upward, connecting the wooden shaft to the sapphire grip.

Ollivander looked at it as though he were looking at a treasure. "This wand is very special. It doesn't even apply to wandlore theory. It has no truly defined shaft or core."

Wizet felt something indescribable. He felt that the wand before him should have belonged to him.

Perhaps, just as Ollivander had said, from the moment this wand was made, it had been waiting for him to become its companion.

At that thought, Wizet did not hesitate in the slightest and gripped the wand in his hand.

Silver-blue light appeared in his mind. Wizard's Practical Guide suddenly spread open, countless pages flipping wildly through his thoughts as if boiling.

Just then, the wand slowly vanished from his hand and instead appeared in his mind.

The flipping pages were like a school of fish, constantly circling around the wand.

At this moment, the wand was like a pillar that steadied the sea. The gray crystal that held it together lit up, giving off silver-blue light.

The dim shop brightened. Countless rays of silver-blue light spilled out from every direction and flew toward Wizet's eyes.

Immediately afterward, all of Diagon Alley flickered for him, giving off silver-blue light!

Ollivander's mouth parted slightly, his eyes wide as he stared at everything before him, at Wizet floating into midair.

Wizet looked ahead, like a god standing above the long river of history, observing Diagon Alley's rise and decline from ancient times to the present.

He saw Ollivander's ancestor come here, set up a shed, and sell the first wand;

He saw goblins appear here as well. They seemed to have sensed that this place would soon prosper and set about constructing a snow-white building;

He saw more and more shops appear, forming a commercial street called Diagon Alley around Gringotts and Ollivander's Wand Shop...

He seemed to glimpse, indistinctly, the essence of magic, to glimpse how wizards had obtained magic back then, to glimpse an even more ancient past...

Wizet focused his attention, wanting to see all of it clearly, but an inexplicable, intense dizziness suddenly struck, making him feel as though heaven and earth were turning upside down...

At the end of the Leaky Cauldron, Dumbledore sat with his fingers interlaced, his gaze appraising as he stared at the person hidden in the shadows.

"Professor Quirrell, as far as I know... in order to accumulate practical experience in Defense Against the Dark Arts, you made a trip to the Albanian Forest. Did you gain any insight?"

"O-of... of course!" Quirrell stammered. "I met... met vam... vampires. They... they were very un... very unfriendly to me..."

At that moment, a burst of silver-blue light suddenly flashed through the Leaky Cauldron, and the drinkers opened their bleary eyes.

"What just happened? Did you see that light?"

"I not only saw the light, I believe in the light. Look... Lumos!"

"Have you had too much to drink and gone muddled? Hic! Tom! Two more dozen sherries!"

Dumbledore looked toward the bar, his gaze seeming to pierce through it to the small courtyard, then through the courtyard to Diagon Alley.

From the silver-blue light, he sensed an ancient magical power and searched for the source of that power. "Ollivander's Wand Shop? Could it be Wizet?"

"And... and there was an old witch... she was terrifying..." Quirrell was still stammering. "Headmaster Dumbledore, what did you just say?"

"Nothing." Dumbledore gently shook his head. "I'm listening. Go on. What did that terrifying witch do?"

"That... that old witch kept... kept many snakes... all poi... poisonous snakes! She drove... drove the poisonous snakes to attack me!"

On the second floor of the Leaky Cauldron, in the room Quirrell had rented.

Voldemort, possessing a sharp-nosed viper, woke from his sleep. He sensed a strange power.

He poked his head out from under the blanket, moved swiftly up to the window, and gazed into the distance.

"Such ancient magical power!" he rasped in a harsh, grating voice. "This body is too weak. It only allows me to sense that the source is here. I must have Quirrell obtain the Philosopher's Stone as soon as possible..."

Before he finished speaking, the snake's body collapsed. Its scales, blood, and flesh turned to ash, and a cloud of smoky, illusory black gas emerged from within.

The black gas slowly drifted to the corner of the room, where a wire cage full of poisonous snakes had been placed.

The poisonous snakes were deep asleep. The black gas hovered in the air for a moment, finally chose one of the snakes, and pounced down fiercely...

Wizet woke on the bench in the shop.

Everything around him had changed.

There were countless lines on the ceiling. They were like dried brushstrokes, and he could see only an extremely dim silver-blue.

The wands on the shelves were the same, wrapped in glowing lines.

Some were glaring red lines, some were warm orange lines, and others were soft silver lines...

"Child, you're awake!" Ollivander appeared before him. "Has the world before your eyes become different?"

A mirror appeared. In it was a delicate, handsome face, still carrying a little baby fat unique to that age.

"What happened to my eyes?" Wizet looked at the mirror and slowly moved his hand toward his eyes.

Those eyes were like a lake beneath the moonlight. Silver-blue light filled his pupils, giving them a strange, mysterious beauty.

He blinked, and the silver-blue light completely withdrew. He blinked again, and the silver-blue light once more overflowed his eyes, obeying his will.

"The Magic Eye. An exceedingly rare gift..." Ollivander said enviously. "The gift the Ollivander Family dreams of most!"

"The first Ollivander wandmaker was a wizard who possessed the Magic Eye. He observed the magic of this world and summarized the laws and mysteries contained within it."

"He incorporated those laws into wandmaking, making our wandcraft stand apart from the rest and allowing it to be passed down as the foundation of our family."

"There have been many wandmakers throughout history, but when it comes to wandmaking families, there is only ever the Ollivander Family!"

"How amazing!" Wizet sighed, and his consciousness sank into his mind.

Wizard's Practical Guide turned to a new page, where there was a record of the Magic Eye.

Primary Magic Eye: Discovers ancient magical power steeped in time... absorbs it to help the Magic Eye grow... sees Magic Circuits...

So-called seeing Magic Circuits meant being able to see the lines of light winding around a wand.

And this was only the ability of the Primary Magic Eye.

If he continued absorbing ancient magical power and let the Magic Eye grow, evolving to intermediate, advanced... what else would he be able to see?

Wizet tried to drive the Obscurus, but unfortunately, the ancient magical power produced by the Obscurus could not be absorbed by the Magic Eye.

Since the path of the Obscurus would not work, he did not force it. The most urgent matter remained obtaining a wand.

"Mr. Ollivander, the wand you gave me just now disappeared. What should I do?"