Two Thousand Years of Professional Wandmaking

Hagrid chattered all the way, complaining endlessly about the Ministry of Magic's various unreasonable regulations. It seemed the whole world was out to get his adorable dragon.

Two Goblins led them into a towering marble hall.

About a hundred Goblins sat on high stools behind a long counter. Some weighed coins on brass scales, while others examined gemstones through eyepieces, making hasty entries in large ledgers as they worked.

There were countless doors in the hall, each leading somewhere different. Many Goblins directed visitors in and out of them, and the place looked extremely busy.

"I need to exchange enough for two hundred Galleons." Roy took out a small stack of pounds and handed it to an old Goblin.

Hogwarts provided seven years of compulsory education and charged no tuition, but students had to pay for their own textbooks, wizard's robes, wands, and other supplies.

That raised a question.

If Hogwarts charged no tuition, how did it cover its day-to-day expenses?

William learned from Hagrid that the school's funding came mainly from Ministry of Magic grants, support from School Governors, and donations from distinguished alumni.

Of course, those were far from its only sources of income. After all, Hagrid was only the keeper of keys.

The old Goblin was every bit the shrewd businessman. After a casual glance at Roy and William, his keen eyes instantly judged from their clothes that they weren't poor, and he enthusiastically began pitching his products.

The old Goblin seemed born for the stage. He slipped into character in an instant and began his performance.

"Gringotts private vaults,

Buried twenty thousand meters underground,

Guarded by Ukrainian Ironbellies,

Exclusive, individually assigned confidential keys.

An automatic alarm if your money is separated from the vault by ten meters.

There's only a small distance between good and excellent, and that distance is called Gringotts.

A Gringotts private vault. You deserve one!"

Roy: "..."

William: "..."

Hagrid: "(☆?☆)!!"

Roy and William looked disgusted, but the old Goblin wasn't angry. He continued pitching his other financial products.

As for the excited Hagrid... the Goblin ignored him outright. One look was enough to tell he was a poor bastard, not a potential customer.

Watching the old Goblin chatter away was like seeing a young hairdresser from William's previous life. He went on and on, but the gist was still one sentence: "Hey, bro, how about signing up for a membership?"

Before William could say anything, his father, Roy, flatly refused.

Roy had already asked: Galleons were wizarding currency, not pure gold, but an alloy produced through Goblin smelting techniques.

Since they weren't pure gold, even if he exchanged a lot and deposited them at Gringotts, they would still be subject to inflation rather than retain their value with the price of gold.

Only a fool keeps money in a bank. Wouldn't investing it be much better?

"What a shame."

Hagrid sighed repeatedly as they walked.

"If I hadn't spent all my money on a three-headed dog, I'd want a private vault too.

Hey, William, what's with that look? Not just anyone can have a private vault. It's the mark of a successful man!

I'm telling you, without a private vault, it's hard to even find a wife in the Wizarding World!"

Huh, why did that sound so familiar to William?

Next, Hagrid took the two of them into Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

Madam Malkin was a short, plump witch dressed in purple, with a beaming smile. After taking William's measurements, she suggested the three of them go buy their other supplies first.

So they headed to the wand shop.

It was a small, shabby shop. The gold lettering on the sign over the door was peeling, but it read: Ollivanders: Makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.

A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

Impressive. They've actually been making wands professionally for over two thousand years!

As they entered, a wind chime tinkled somewhere in the back of the shop.

The shop was small. Apart from a long bench, it contained only thousands of narrow boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling.

They were all full of wands.

"Good evening." A head suddenly popped out from among the boxes.

But it wasn't Ollivander. He was very young and thin... he looked only a year or two older than William.

"Oh, Merlin's beard! Cedric, what are you doing here?" Hagrid jumped.

"Hey, Hagrid. Hello."

The boy called Cedric shook out his apprentice's robes, sending up a great cloud of dust.

"I'm working here for the summer."

"Oh, are you?" Hagrid looked Cedric over suspiciously.

"If you wanted to make money, I posted a task at Hogwarts. You could have come to help me raise Magical Creatures over the summer. There was no need to come here."

Cedric hastily waved his hands. "It's not about the money. It's the interest that matters. I just want to learn some skills from Mr. Ollivander."

Of course, the boy didn't mention the most important reason... he had no desire to look after Billywigs. Those things were fast and had long, thin stingers.

They were simply awful!

"You could ask the Weasley brothers to help you next time. They should be pretty short of money," Cedric suggested "kindly."

"Merlin's beard, don't mention those two little troublemakers!" Hagrid's beard quivered with anger.

"I spent half the term chasing them out of the Forbidden Forest... wandering around in the Forbidden Forest in their first year! It's the first time I've seen students that bold!"

Cedric nodded and turned his gaze to William.

"This must be the new junior, right? Hello, I'm Cedric Diggory. Just call me Cedric."

Cedric had a high-bridged nose and black hair. Although he was thin, his black eyes were bright and lively.

"Hello, I'm William Stark. Just call me William." William held out his hand and shook Cedric's.

Hagrid smiled. "William, talk to Cedric more. He's the best student in the entire first year.

I've heard many professors praise him, especially Professor McGonagall. You should know that Professor McGonagall is very strict."

"That's not true," Cedric said. His face reddened slightly, and he turned away in embarrassment and called into the back room, "Mr. Ollivander, there are customers."

After a while, accompanied by the sound of the wind chime, an old man stood before them. His large, pale eyes shone like two moons in the dim shop.

"Hello," William said. "My name is William Stark."

"Mm, another young wizard." The old man had disheveled white hair and seemed a little eccentric.

"Wonderful. I think those lovely wands can hardly wait to meet their new owner."

He swept his hair back and said with a sudden start, "Oh, of course, the wand chooses the wizard, so it's hidden away in some corner, and my job is to find it."

Mr. Ollivander walked up to William. Though his tone was kind, his narrowed, silvery eyes made him look extremely strange.

He stared into William's dark green eyes for a moment before turning to Hagrid.

As if he had only just noticed Hagrid, he said in surprise, "Oh, Rubeus Hagrid! How wonderful to see you again. Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"That's right, sir." Hagrid nodded. "It was a good wand, that one."

"But I suppose they snapped it when you were expelled?" Ollivander suddenly grew serious.

"Ah, of course, they snapped it, yes." Hagrid slowly edged backward toward Roy, as though that made him feel a little safer.

"I've still got the pieces."

"But you don't use it anymore, do you?" Ollivander continued.

"No, I don't. How could I use a wand that's already broken?"

Hagrid answered nervously, but his great hands gripped his battered pink umbrella tightly.

(P.S. Ollivander's Fine Wand Shop reminds all young wizards: just add this to your collection and recommend it, and you'll receive a wand made of agarwood and Ao Bing's dragon sinew. (????ω????))