6, Half-Finished Product

The voice was very familiar. That unrestrained laughter had just ended.

A tall, thin figure burst through the doors of Ollivander Wand Shop. A handsome boy stepped outside, his eyes glowing red, his body trembling slightly. He gazed at the yew wand in his hand with extreme excitement, completely ignoring Hoffa and Yinduo standing at the entrance.

The air was filled with violent magical energy, and even Hoffa's hair was blown into disarray.

Watching the boy's departing back with lingering fear, Yinduo asked quietly, "Who was that? How could someone that young possess such powerful magic?"

Of course Hoffa knew who it was.

Tom Marvolo Riddle.

The future Dark Lord Voldemort had acquired the first helper of his life: a powerful yew wand. No wonder he was so excited. Unfortunately, after accompanying him for more than fifty years, that wand would still be ruthlessly abandoned by him.

Shaking his head, Hoffa said to Yinduo, "Shall we go in together?"

Yinduo shook his head. "You go in yourself. Goblins don't need wands, and I won't enter a shop like this. That old man uses goblin bones as wand materials too. I'm afraid I'll kill him if I see him."

Hoffa was speechless and could only push open the door to Ollivander Wand Shop alone.

The moment he stepped inside.

Ding!

System, current secret realm—[London Wizard Market]

Exploration rate has reached 50%. Received Spell Fragment (1/3)

A hazy fragment appeared within his sea of consciousness.

Hoffa wanted to examine the fragment, but he could not make sense of it at all.

He could only abandon the thought and deal with his current situation instead.

Before him, thousands of boxes were stacked densely from the floor to the ceiling. The air was filled with silence and solemnity.

Ollivander Wand Shop was a family business.

The family's history of wandmaking could be traced back to 382 BC. The original meaning of the surname Ollivander was—one who possessed an olivewood wand. Thus, some people, including the current Ollivander himself, believed that their ancestors had followed the Romans to Britain.

The owner of this generation's Ollivander shop was Garrick Ollivander.

He did not look as old as he was described in the books fifty years later. Instead, he was an energetic middle-aged man.

But this middle-aged man currently looked rather dazed.

Ollivander had not noticed Hoffa's arrival. His mouth still hung open as he stood amid scattered wooden boxes, immersed in the shock of what had just happened.

Not until Hoffa waved a hand in front of his eyes.

"Hello."

Garrick Ollivander jolted and turned around. Seeing a new customer, he quickly rubbed his face. "Sorry, I was distracted. You have no idea what just happened."

Hoffa said calmly, "I know. I came to buy a wand."

Ollivander muttered, "Of course. Everyone who comes into my shop is here to buy a wand. Left hand or right hand?"

"Right hand."

"Raise your arm."

He measured Hoffa, first from shoulder to fingertip, then from wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and finally around his head.

As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand contains powerful magical substances. That is the essence of them. We use unicorn hair, phoenix tail feathers, and dragon heart nerve..."

Hoffa chuckled. "Do you say the same thing to every customer?"

Interrupted, Ollivander grew slightly annoyed.

"Rude child. I'm a businessman, understand? A businessman!"

As he spoke, he nimbly gathered the boxes scattered across the floor, then began stuffing wands into Hoffa's hands one after another.

"Holm, phoenix feather, eleven inches... No, no!"

"Unicorn hair, rosewood, thirteen inches... No, no!"

"Dragon sinew, walnut, nine inches... No, still no!"

"Beech, Veela hair, ten inches... No, of course not. What was I thinking?"

Ollivander chattered as he rapidly moved boxes around.

Wands passed through Hoffa's hands in a blur, but holding them felt no different from holding ordinary sticks. Nothing happened.

"Applewood, seventeen inches. No."

"Acacia, fourteen inches. No."

"Cypress, nine inches. No."

"Ash. No."

"Rowan. No."

"Fir... no!"

"Cedar... no!"

"Cherry... no!"

"Blackthorn, oh, still no!"

Time passed second by second. The empty boxes piled beneath them grew higher and higher, and Hoffa was nearly yawning. If he had not received Hogwarts's letter, he would almost have doubted whether he truly had magical talent.

He glanced outside. Yinduo was pacing back and forth impatiently.

Finally, when Ollivander and Hoffa were both standing waist-deep in piles of boxes, Ollivander could no longer run about. Panting heavily, he asked, "Are you really a wizard? Or are you actually a Squib?"

Buried among the boxes, Hoffa said helplessly, "Would you like to see my Hogwarts letter?"

"Argh!" Ollivander cried out in irritation.

"How could this happen? It shouldn't be possible!"

This was beyond Hoffa's expectations as well. He had not expected to be incompatible with so many wands.

But he needed a wand to attend school.

Scratching his head, Hoffa asked hesitantly, "Are there any other wandmakers in Diagon Alley?"

The question struck a nerve. Ollivander's pale gray eyes widened at once.

"What? You dare question my skill! Let me tell you, from 100 BC until now, there has never been a wizard whose wand Ollivander could not make. Even Merlin used wands from our family!"

Hoffa said nothing. The two of them stared at each other amid the piles of boxes.

The air sank into an extremely awkward silence.

After staring at each other for a while, Ollivander suddenly asked softly, "You don't seem to be British."

"Half and half, I suppose. I'm not really sure, but my father was Chinese," Hoffa said.

"The East?" Ollivander smacked his lips. "I see. Their customs over there really are somewhat different from ours."

With that, he waved his wand. All the boxes gathered themselves up and returned to their original places.

"Follow me."

Hoffa followed Ollivander into the back room of the shop.

Many different materials were piled there: feathers, hair, nerves, hearts, spider legs, wood from all kinds of trees, and even a goblin skeleton. Hoffa thought that it was no wonder Yinduo had refused to come inside. Wandmaking really was quite cruel.

Beneath the piled materials, Ollivander bent down and rummaged around for a long time. At last, he pulled out a wrinkled gray box. With one blow, an enormous cloud of dust rose up.

The gray box became a black box.

Ollivander stood solemnly before Hoffa and opened it.

Inside lay a wand in silence. Calling it a wand was not quite right, because it still had knots and blemishes from its branches, making it look rough. It was nothing like the refined wands outside. It looked as if it had been cut straight from a tree.

A strange feeling rose in Hoffa's heart.

It's looking at me.

Hoffa realized it.

It's excited.

Without hesitation, Hoffa reached out and grasped the ancient branch.

At that instant, he felt a trace of bloodline connection. An ancient, gentle warmth flowed through his entire body. The loneliness of its thousand-year wait nearly brought tears to his eyes.

Nothing happened, but Hoffa knew that this was his destined companion.

He released it, and something strange happened. The wand did not fall. It floated above Hoffa's palm.

As it floated, he saw the only artificial mark upon it.

At its end was a deep carving, covered in slightly faded red paint.

It was a square, orderly character.

[Seal]

After taking in the wand's full appearance, it fell back into Hoffa's palm.

A faint smile appeared on Hoffa's face. Filled with delight, he looked at Ollivander, hoping for an explanation.

But Ollivander's eyes were full of suspicion. With his hands behind his back, he paced back and forth.

"How could this be... How could this be?"

"What exactly is going on?" Hoffa asked. "How much is this wand? I'll take it."

"Money..."

Ollivander coughed. "Forget it. The wand chooses the wizard, so be it. But I must remind you that this wand is unfinished. If anything happens, I won't be responsible."

"What?" Hoffa asked in surprise. "Unfinished? What does that mean?"

Ollivander began explaining.

"More than a hundred years ago, my grandfather, Gabod Ollivander, once traveled with the English queen's ship to India. Near the border between the Qing Dynasty and India stood a very tall snow mountain. At its foot was a tree that the locals called a bodhi tree.

"My grandfather stayed there for some time. When he was leaving, an old monk gave him this branch, saying it contained miraculous power.

"My grandfather did not sense any power from it and merely brought it back as a keepsake. My father did not discover anything unusual about it either, nor did I.

"A few years ago, I tried to turn it into a wand, only to find that it could not be paired with any wand core. Dragon heart, phoenix feathers, unicorn hair—none of them worked. So it has remained stored here."

As he spoke, Ollivander grew sentimental. "I always thought my grandfather had brought back nothing more than a piece of wood without magic... But now it truly is strange. There is actually wood that can cast magic without relying on magical substances..."

Hoffa said in surprise, "So this thing is just a branch?"

"That's right." Ollivander shrugged. "But it is a precious keepsake of mine. If you want to buy it, you'll have to pay double."

Hoffa...

By the time he walked out of Ollivander Wand Shop, it was nearly dark.

In the distance, the clouds glowed red like flames. Wizards hurried along the street. Judging by their clothes, many had gotten off work at the Ministry of Magic and come to Diagon Alley to shop.

Standing outside Ollivander Wand Shop, Hoffa happily examined the bodhi branch engraved with the character [Seal].

He thought that he finally had a wand of his own.

After spending twenty Galleons, Hoffa obtained his wand. Ollivander had also very "generously" given him a small calfskin sheath that could be strapped to his arm for everyday wand carrying and maintenance.

Yinduo had waited outside so long that he was nearly asleep. When he saw Hoffa emerge, he immediately cursed, "Did you fall in love with that old man or something? Why were you in there so long?"

Hoffa was in a good mood and did not want to argue with him. He put away his wand and patted the goblin's shoulder.

"Come on, young goblin, don't be so impatient. Want to grab a drink together?"

"Drink my ass!" Yinduo snapped. "I waited for you to come out only to tell you this. I promised that you would have books and a wand before nightfall, and now I've done it. So our contract is over."

"Huh?" Hoffa froze. "Where are you going?"

"Where am I going? I told you already, I'm a goblin from Heligoland in Germany. Now I'm going home," Yinduo said.

Germany... In his good mood, Hoffa could not help adding, "Then don't get caught up in the war."

"What, you think there'll be a war too?" Yinduo gave Hoffa another look. "Those British lot don't think so. What's that Muggle term again? Appease something..."

Yinduo tilted his head in thought.

"Appeasement," Hoffa sighed. It could not be helped. Everyone hoped for peace, even if it was only imagined peace.

"That's right, appeasement. You do know quite a lot," Yinduo muttered. "Don't worry. I don't like war either."

With that, he raised a finger.

Hoffa took a step back. Was he preparing to cast a spell and leave?

But nothing happened. Yinduo looked at Hoffa, his expression somewhat hesitant.

"Hey, do you know how to get to King's Cross Station?"

Hoffa nodded. "I do."

"The platform is between Platforms Nine and Ten. You have to keep running to get through."

Hoffa smiled. Of course he knew all that, but hearing it from this goblin somehow felt strange. Maybe this fellow was not as much of a bastard as he looked.

"I know. Thanks for telling me. That really helped."

"Hmph!" Yinduo said proudly. "You're a bit clever, but you're only eleven after all."

"All right, all right. Go back to your Heligoland already," Hoffa said helplessly.

Yinduo raised his finger, but lowered it again at the last moment.

Hoffa was speechless. "What do you want now?"

The goblin did something unbelievable. He removed one of his silver earrings, then snapped it onto Hoffa's ear. The pain was so sharp that tears nearly came to Hoffa's eyes.

Hoffa glared at Yinduo. "What the hell!?"

Yinduo burst into laughter. "I admire men who dare to come out looking for work at such a young age. If you want a job in the future, come find me. Don't look in Diagon Alley. There's no profit in the work here."

With that, he raised a hand and snapped his fingers.

The goblin vanished from the air in an instant.

Leaving Hoffa alone, rubbing his bleeding ear and cursing furiously, "Bastard!"