A Circular Wand, Giving the Professor a Little Shock

Half an hour later, Dumbledore left the Great Hall from the teachers' table.

Watching him, Silvan instinctively thought of that utterly illogical Repairing Charm again. Unfortunately, he hadn't seen any information about Dumbledore's wand on him.

Maybe he hadn't been carrying it, or perhaps the Elder Wand was simply special.

Snape also left the Great Hall, followed by Flitwick, McGonagall...

At that point, Silvan suddenly stood up.

"Silvan, what's wrong?" Harry and Ron beside him were startled.

"Nothing. I just remembered something," Silvan said casually, then turned and ran out of the Great Hall.

"What's he going off to do?" Ron looked at Harry.

"How should I know?" Harry said.

"Honestly... what a weirdo," Ron muttered, grabbing a chicken leg and stuffing it into his mouth.

He wasn't full yet.

Meanwhile.

After running out of the Great Hall, Silvan picked up his pace and caught up with McGonagall before she went up the stairs.

"Mr. Ollivander?" McGonagall looked at Silvan in surprise. "What do you need me for? Don't tell me you want to change dormitories again."

"No." Silvan shook his head. After considering his words, he said, "Sorry, Professor McGonagall. This may be somewhat rude, but could you give me a few strands of your hair?"

"My hair?" McGonagall frowned instinctively.

This request had actually gone beyond merely rude. It was downright outrageous. A more hot-tempered wizard might have drawn their wand on the spot.

After all, in the wizarding world, a single strand of hair could be used for many things. The most common was Polyjuice Potion, followed by all manner of curses and dark magic.

"What do you intend to do?" Perhaps because of Silvan's identity, or perhaps because of his age, McGonagall did not refuse outright.

"A wand," Silvan said.

"A wand?"

"Yes, more precisely, a wand core."

"..."

McGonagall fell silent for a long time.

How should she put it? This was the first time she had ever heard such an absurd request.

Yet even then, she still did not refuse him.

"Come to my office, Mr. Ollivander, if you've finished eating."

"Of course," Silvan said.

McGonagall turned and walked up the stairs, with Silvan close behind her.

The lowest flight of stairs began to rotate upward, and soon they appeared in the corridor on the second floor. But it did not stop there. The stairs continued turning, rising floor by floor. Silvan barely even walked before he was delivered to the eighth floor.

"Hurry up and follow me. What are you thinking about?" McGonagall reminded him, snapping Silvan back to his senses.

"These stairs..." Silvan said. "Why do they run all over the place after we get on them? Several times, I was almost at the classroom, then I looked away for a moment and got sent back to the eighth floor."

"They were like that when I was a student too," McGonagall said. "We're here."

She pushed open a door at the end of the corridor and entered.

McGonagall's office was much like her personality: simple, clean, and free of unnecessary decorations.

There was a spacious desk inside, with students' homework, ink, and quills neatly arranged on top. The bookshelf beside the fireplace was packed with books and magazines related to Transfiguration.

"Now then, Mr. Ollivander." McGonagall walked behind the desk and looked up at Silvan.

"I don't wish to question your research and knowledge regarding wands, but I have never heard that a wizard's hair can be made into a wand core."

"It's only an idea of mine," Silvan explained. "The inspiration came from the French Delacour Family."

"Delacour?" McGonagall said. "Apolline Delacour?"

"That's right, a wizarding family with Veela blood," Silvan said. "Three years ago, my grandfather made a special wand for the Delacour Family, with Veela hair as its core.

"According to Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them, Veela who have not transformed have bodies nearly identical to those of wizards.

"If Veela hair can be used to make a wand, why can't wizard hair?"

McGonagall looked at the animated Silvan. She had originally wanted to say something, but after hesitating for a moment, she changed to a tone that sounded less harsh.

"But as far as I know, no one has been able to make a wand core from a wizard's hair, including your grandfather."

She wanted to discourage Silvan and make him give up this fanciful notion.

But Silvan did not care.

"That was before. It doesn't mean I can't do it. I can show you a wand I made."

McGonagall was just about to speak when she saw Silvan take out a... bamboo ring?

McGonagall was not even sure what it was.

Although Silvan called it a wand, how could a wand possibly be round?

"African bamboo, with a Quintaped brain for a core. Thirteen inches."

McGonagall's eye twitched.

This bamboo ring was really a wand?

It did not even have a tip.

Seeing that McGonagall still did not believe him, Silvan simply flicked his wrist.

"Lumos!"

The moment the words fell, a ball of white light lit up at the bamboo joint directly above them.

McGonagall's eyes widened, but she had not expected that to be only the beginning.

The next second, the bamboo joints on the left and right lit up as well.

McGonagall could no longer remain seated. She shot to her feet, and the force of her movement knocked over the ink bottle on the desk...

"Three spells..."

It had been a long time since McGonagall had lost her composure like this. Yet a single wand had cast three spells at once. It was simply inconceivable, enough to overturn everything she knew.

"As you can see," Silvan said, "each segment of African bamboo is independent. It was originally unsuitable for making a standard-length wand, until I discovered by chance that a Quintaped brain could connect them in another form, like this."

"Oh, right. It can also be used like this." Silvan flicked his wrist again.

"Reparo."

The overturned ink bottle returned to the desk, while the spilled ink floated back into the bottle.

When she looked at the bamboo ring again, only two balls of white light remained lit.

"So this wand can cast three different spells?" McGonagall was even more astonished, momentarily overlooking the fact that Silvan had said Quintaped brain rather than the more reasonable brain nerves.

"In theory, yes," Silvan said.

"In theory?"

"Because it requires extremely strong magical control." Silvan shrugged. "Honestly, right now I can only use the Lighting Charm and the Repairing Charm at the same time. Anything more complicated is beyond me."

After hearing that, McGonagall quickly calmed down as well.

Of course. How could casting three different spells at once possibly be so easy?

And on closer thought, the sizes of the three balls of light from before had been abnormal too.

When the lights on either side came on, the light in the center had visibly shrunk.

Even so, it was already astonishing enough. Silvan was only a first-year now; he would certainly grow stronger in the future.

Or perhaps, what if Dumbledore were holding this wand...