The Magic Eye and Wand Crafting

"It's all right. Perhaps it will become a key—the key to opening the Magic Eye." Ollivander's tone grew gentler, like an elder comforting a junior.

"Let us start choosing a wand again. Perhaps this time... you'll gain something unexpected. What color wand do you like? Do you have any requirements for the core?"

Wizet asked in confusion, "Didn't you say before... that wizards and wands choose each other? I can make requests now?"

"Mm..." Ollivander murmured. "Under ordinary circumstances, of course it works that way. But you possess the Magic Eye! Tell me what style you like!"

Wizet recalled the pile of wands he had just tried. "Elder, dragon heartstring, thirteen inches... and preferably a bit stiffer."

"You remember them all!" Ollivander beamed brilliantly, like a sunflower facing the sun. "To carry the power of an Obscurus, it truly does require an extraordinary wand configuration!"

He already knew the location of every wand in the shop like the back of his hand.

With only a wave of his wand, a wooden box flew out from the deepest part of the shelves and landed in Wizet's hands.

Inside the wooden box lay a pitch-black wand. It had little carving overall—straight, sharp, and coldly austere, like a military spike.

With the help of the Magic Eye, he sensed the exquisite craftsmanship contained within the wand. Its overall Magic Circuit was very smooth.

The only flaw lay at the wand's tip, where the Magic Circuit was somewhat bloated, like a tangled ball of thread.

Wizet picked up the wand. The handle was rounded overall, with just the right contours, fitting his hand extremely well.

The power of ancient magic was stirred, rapidly spreading into the wand's body.

The power gathered at the wand's tip and merged into the swollen Magic Circuit.

Wizet felt as though he were playing a game of cat's cradle, needing to straighten out the Magic Circuit so the wand's overall flow would become smoother.

After who knew how long, he finally smoothed the Magic Circuit out. Cyclone-like patterns appeared on the wand's body, and the wand also warmed slightly at that moment.

Wizet instinctively let go. Contrary to its previous behavior, the wand floated in midair and gave off a pleasant, soft hum.

He could feel that this wand was calling to him, in stark contrast to its earlier silence.

And not only this wand—the wands throughout the shop all gave off soft hums. It was the same call.

"Most marvelous! It has become even more perfect!" Ollivander revealed a satisfied smile. "Do you understand now? The wand chooses the wizard."

"You possess the Magic Eye. You can make wands become even better. No wand can refuse that!"

"In a certain sense, these wands really are interesting!" Wizet laughed.

He remembered a saying from his previous life: Today you ignore me; tomorrow I'll be out of your reach.

"Wizet! I hope that after you graduate, you can learn how to make wands from me." Ollivander's tone was full of anticipation.

"And don't worry about the pay. I'll pay you according to the salary standard of an Auror. I absolutely won't let you lose out!"

"Can I really do that?" Wizet asked instinctively. "This should be a very profound field of study, and besides, there are your family's secrets."

"You possess the Magic Eye! That is the most important thing!" Ollivander hurriedly said. "Perhaps you can consider it for a while. Just give me an answer before you graduate!"

"You can study it first. I'll give you this first!" As though afraid Wizet would refuse, he vanished into the darkness in a flash.

Before long, he appeared in the shop again, now holding a notebook with a scaly leather cover.

"Hungarian Horntail dragonhide, specially treated. Even if you take notes in winter, it remains exceptionally warm."

Wizet felt the warmth of the dragonhide notebook. It was like holding a small hand warmer, and it felt very good.

"Wizet, inside this notebook are the basic methods of wandmaking, as well as some of my own insights and experiences. I'll give it to you. Flip through it whenever you think of it."

"This counts as a family secret, doesn't it? It's too valuable! I can't keep it." Hearing this, Wizet realized the value of the notebook.

He and Ollivander had only met this once, yet Ollivander treated him with such sincerity that he instead felt somewhat unaccustomed to it, and instinctively chose to refuse.

Ollivander persuaded him, "Why don't you flip through it first and see whether you're interested?"

Since things had been said to this extent, Wizet did not refuse. He opened the notebook and turned through it page by page.

The notebook contained a vast amount of knowledge about wandmaking, enough to be recorded in his mind.

After confirming that the contents in his mind matched the notebook without error, he pushed the notebook back. "Mr. Ollivander, I've finished reading it. I benefited greatly."

Ollivander's eyes dimmed. "You don't need to comfort me. It seems you're not interested in wandmaking."

Wizet explained, "It's like this... I read books rather quickly. Although I can't understand the meaning yet, I've memorized all the contents."

"Is that so?" Ollivander perked up somewhat. "Do you think hawthorn is good as a wand wood?"

Wizet flipped through the notes in his mind. "If hawthorn is used as the wand wood, the wand will become strange and self-contradictory."

"It's a relatively niche material, but I think anything that exists has its reason. Since it can be used as wand wood, it should be able to find a suitable owner."

"Good! Good!" Ollivander's eyes lit up again. "And plane wood as wand wood..."

When it came to questions related to the notebook, if it was only a matter of simple recitation, Wizet could answer fluently, and Ollivander was full of praise for this.

"Wizet, the world that belongs to you is absolutely vast and boundless! I must admit, if you were to become a wandmaker, it would truly be a waste of your talents."

The sky had already darkened, and the setting sun plated Diagon Alley with a vivid layer of orange.

When the buildings of Diagon Alley were observed through the Magic Eye, they looked as though they had turned into stained glass.

By carefully observing the lines that held the buildings together, one could even see the nearly dried-up silver-blue magic.

"Consuming the ancient magical power of Diagon Alley was what allowed me to successfully awaken the Magic Eye? If I want the Magic Eye to keep growing, the road may be long and difficult, but if I keep walking, I'll get there!"

Wizet stood outside the wand shop, playing with the wand in his hand. He liked the design of this wand very much.

More than that, this wand held great significance for him. It meant he had already set foot on the path of a wizard.

Ollivander had told him that the price of seven Galleons for a wand was a discount for new students.

If he wanted to buy another wand later, the price would vary depending on the wand's materials.

But for Wizet, none of that was something he needed to consider.

If he needed to replace his wand, he could come to the shop at any time and trade the old one in for a new one.

To Ollivander, a wand improved by Wizet also had research value.

After playing with the wand a little longer, Wizet carefully pulled open his pocket and slowly placed it inside.

He looked around, and doubt could not help but rise in his heart—where had Hagrid gone?

The two of them had parted in the morning, and now the setting sun was sinking in the west, yet Hagrid still had not returned.

After spending a short time with him, Wizet felt that leaving without a word should not be Hagrid's style.

"Could something have happened?"

He went to the apothecary and found the potioneer he had met that morning.

"You mean Hagrid?" The potioneer frowned in thought. "I think I saw him heading that way..."

"Why don't you go take a look? Oh, right! Just look from the street corner, remember. Whatever you do, don't go into Knockturn Alley!"