Compared with Professor McGonagall's cautious skepticism, Hermione's heart was already in turmoil, shaken beyond measure.
With just a few words, Draco had precisely touched on the secret deep within her: her powerful drive to learn, her ravenous hunger for knowledge.
As she looked at the boy before her, she felt, for a moment, as though he had seen right through her, leaving even the qualities deep within her soul nowhere to hide. Her heart was full of surprise and bewilderment, yet she also vaguely felt an inexplicable sense of affinity.
Just then, Ollivander emerged from behind the shelves, carrying a dark wooden box.
Having heard their conversation, he looked at Draco with admiration. "Your insight really is commendable, young man. Dragon heartstring cores are spirited by nature, with an insatiable hunger for talent and intellectual curiosity. They never settle for mediocrity. And their great power is reserved for minds that never rest, that constantly strive forward. Only souls like those can master their edge."
Draco merely grinned at this and said nothing more, though a hint of understanding lay in his eyes.
Sitting nearby, Professor McGonagall listened to Ollivander's firm endorsement. Her previously knitted brows slowly relaxed, and her gaze toward Draco grew more complicated.
Clearly, she too was gradually realizing that this boy possessed a sensitivity to the compatibility between wand and wizard far beyond that of his peers, rather than simply making idle claims.
Ollivander delayed no longer. He set the wooden box on the counter, slowly opened it, and explained its contents to Hermione in detail:
"This wand is chestnut, also with a dragon heartstring core, ten inches long, hard and solid. Chestnut wands have always favored witches and wizards with a particular gift for natural magic, Herbology, or magical creatures. Steady in temperament and rich in depth, it is a wood meant for the learned, capable of deeply harmonizing with a seeker's spirit."
"Magical creatures!" Hermione's eyes instantly lit up, delight unmistakable in her voice. The textbooks on magical creatures she had bought earlier immediately came to mind, and her anticipation for this wand grew.
She cautiously reached out and took the wand in her palm, but the moment she touched its shaft, the delight on her face gradually froze, giving way to greater caution.
This time, the tip did not remain entirely inactive. A small wisp of faint silver smoke emerged, slowly spiraling upward before vanishing into the air, leaving only the faintest trace of magic.
"Better than the last one," Hermione assessed objectively.
After carefully analyzing what she had sensed, Hermione said, "There's a slight inclination toward... resonance between us, but it's ultimately too weak and extremely unstable. The flow of magic keeps breaking off, like an electrical circuit with a faulty connection in the Muggle world. It's difficult for us to blend smoothly."
She casually used a Muggle comparison, her words plain but precise. Though unfamiliar with Muggle objects, Ollivander immediately grasped the deeper meaning and nodded in agreement.
Rather than turning at once to fetch another wand, he tilted his head slightly and gazed at Hermione, his eyes deep and intent, as though truly "seeing" the nature of her soul for the first time.
Ollivander's gaze slowly passed over her brown hair, which was already showing signs of bushiness, and over her bright, clear eyes brimming with a thirst for knowledge. He missed no detail, seemingly pondering the frequency of her soul.
"How foolish of me..." After a long while, Ollivander suddenly spoke quietly, a note of realization in his voice. "I was thinking only of learning and talent. That was far too shallow, after all."
He shook his head gently, then said with absolute certainty, "What lies within her is the pursuit of a lofty calling, a burning passion concealed beneath her composure, and a determination to break convention and astonish the world... Yes, it must be that one. It must be waiting for you."
With that, he rose onto tiptoe and stretched his arm toward a corner at the very top of the shelves, thick with dust.
The light there was dim, and no one had touched the spot in a long time. Almost his entire body reached into the shadows, his movements somewhat clumsy yet filled with unquestionable persistence.
A moment later, Ollivander slowly turned around, holding an unusually long, slender case of dark wood.
Layer upon layer of dust covered its surface, as though recording the accumulation of long years, lending it an air of antiquity and mystery.
He gently blew the dust off the case, brushed his fingertips over the grain of the wood, and slowly opened the lid.
Fine, dark blue velvet lined the interior. A wand with a warm hue and a distinctive spiral grain lay quietly within, its shaft faintly lustrous. Its magic was restrained, yet its edge could not be concealed; a single glance made it clear that this was no ordinary object.
"Vine wood." Ollivander's voice instantly grew solemn and low. "Again, a dragon heartstring core, ten and three-quarter inches long, quite supple, able to bend and straighten, its edge concealed beneath restraint.
"Vine wood wands... are exceedingly rare in the wizarding world, and exceptionally discerning. They never choose witches or wizards who are merely 'clever' or 'powerful'; their vision is always distinctive and far-reaching. They seek souls whose eyes can look toward horizons others cannot see, whose hearts burn with the fiery desire to change the world, and who are destined to break convention and leave all those who cling to old ways speechless. Only such extraordinary beings can earn their recognition."
Hearing Ollivander's exceedingly high praise, Hermione held her breath and looked at the wand before her with eager anticipation. Then she slowly reached out toward the vine wood wand.
Her fingertips had only just touched its warm shaft.
Humm...
A low, delighted hum suddenly came from within the wand, gentle yet clear, as though it had slumbered for a long time and finally found a compatible soul.
Then, the moment her fingers closed fully around it and gripped the wand firmly!
Boom!
A burst of warm, brilliant golden sparks, like liquid sunlight, suddenly gushed from the tip!
It was not a violent explosion but a gentle, dazzling bloom, its light pure and blazing. In an instant, it filled the dim shop and drove away every shadow.
Every speck of dust floating in the shop shone clearly in the golden light, like stars fallen to earth, lively and radiant.
The light softly illuminated Hermione's astonished face. Her curly brown hair seemed edged in brilliant gold, every strand clearly visible in the light, gleaming with lively luster.
Her large brown eyes widened enormously, the splendor of the magical flames reflected in her pupils, full of disbelief and utter delight.
A vast yet gentle current of warmth rushed straight from her palm into her heart, instantly spreading through every part of her body. It resonated perfectly with the speed of her thoughts, the lofty ambitions hidden in her heart, and all the ideals she had never spoken aloud.
This was far more than a tool simply acknowledging its master. It was a recognition between souls across time, a greeting and acceptance of one another, closely linked and inseparable.
"Oh!" Hermione drew in a sharp breath, her voice full of pure, childlike delight and wonder. At that moment, all her rigor and composure fell away.
Then an enormous, unreserved smile blossomed across her face.
"This is it!" Hermione could not help crying out, her voice much higher than usual, filled with irrepressible excitement and certainty. "I can feel it! It... it's not just in my hand. It's in my mind, in my heart! It's speaking to me, responding to what I feel!"
Ollivander stood in the golden light, his long silver-white hair and beard gilded with warmth. The deepest satisfaction appeared on his face, and his eyes immediately grew gentle and kindly, as though he had witnessed the fulfillment of a destiny.
He nodded gently, his lips moving as he murmured in a tone like someone chanting an ancient prophecy:
"Of course! Vine wood and dragon heartstring are a match made in heaven. This is a wand of prophecy waiting to be fulfilled, bearing an extraordinary mission, an exceptionally rare and remarkable combination."
"It has waited quietly in this darkness for far, far too long, Miss Granger... Only today, only when you pushed open that door and walked inside, did that waiting gain meaning."
"This is not an ending, but the first syllable of a great beginning. In the years ahead, it will walk beside you and bear witness to your glory."
Whenever the subject of a wand perfectly matching its wizard arose, Ollivander would launch into a lengthy speech.
Gradually, the golden light in the shop softened and slowly faded, though a faint warmth and trace of magic lingered in the air.
At this, Professor McGonagall spoke in her typically stern tone, in which praise and criticism were difficult to distinguish. "Clearly, someone has done thorough preparation in advance. Applying theoretical knowledge to observations of one's companions is a practice worthy of recognition. However..."
Her tone shifted, and her gaze swept over Draco and Hermione. "The final decision always rests between wand and wizard, not with any theory."
Professor McGonagall had conceded defeat, just in a rather unconventional way.