Ash wood wand!

Ash wood wand!

Chapter 46: long boi!

Author: So, what wand did you get? It must be...

Vira: Ash and Occamy Feather, 14 inches.

Author: Come on, let me finish!

Vira: And have you tease me for having a flawed character? No thanks!

Author: At that point, Vira already knew that the wand was the core of magic. How much of an effect would losing it have on the wizarding world?

He was even planning to attack at night when the wizards were asleep or find a time when they didn't have their wands in hand, in case he made an enemy of one of them.

Well, that was all for later. What was important at this point was getting a wand.

And to get it, they had to enter an old shop.

The shops around were also old, but not in a way that gave them a classic vibe. This place was actually old. The aged sign above the door, reading "Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.", had a dim luster. It was golden like most shops Vira had visited, but time seemed to have stripped this one of its shine.

The dusty window made Vira feel a bit repulsed. Although the other shops were coarse and rough in their build, they were never something one would call dirty. But the dirt in the window, combined with the dark, narrow wooden structure, made Vira wonder how this shop even thrived.

Was there no competition for this shop? How did the owner get customers with such a bad place?

And speaking of wondering, the sign threw Vira off. Even though he didn't take history seriously, he knew that was far too old. There's no way that's true—London didn't exist then. All that was here was wilderness.

There was a chance they might have come here later, but Vira had no interest in delving into all that. He just wanted to get his wand and get out of this gloomy, dirty place.

As soon as Vira and Professor McGonagall entered the narrow corridor, they were shown to rows of boxes stacked on shelves. The shapes and placements clearly indicated that they were all wands.

An old man came to Vira's side at some point. Silas noticed and pointed it out to Vira, but Vira was too excited about getting a wand to care much about it. Besides, Professor McGonagall was here, and given the respect she commanded, he knew she was pretty influential in the wizarding world—or at least in this area.

So, he didn't feel insecure. The correct way to put it would be that he had already realized his weakness: any wizard with a wand could easily kill him. So, he suppressed his insecurity and pulled Professor McGonagall along to ensure his survival and to gather more information on wizards.

Either way, after looking around the shelves and wandering the place as if mesmerized, Vira finally paid attention to the old man.

The man was well... old. He looked to be in his 70s, but Vira didn't concern himself with that—this was the magical world. Who knew if there was a way for immortality or if magic could extend one's lifespan?

Ollivander had silver eyes that seemed to see through the world, and silver hair that matched them. He had an angular face with a strange expression—stern yet kind? Either way, he looked so frail that even a slight wind could topple him, but Vira was soon shocked.

The frail body seemed to have immense strength, as the old man jolted toward one of the shelves and pulled out a box. The box was a bit dusty, but after Ollivander wiped it with his sleeve, it revealed its true self. It appeared to be made from fine, dark wood, possibly rich mahogany or deep walnut, chosen for its smooth, polished surface and refined appearance.

After wiping off the dust, the old man opened the box to reveal an interior laced with soft silk fabric. Inside, nestled within the fabric, was a wand.

Ollivander pulled the wand from its resting place and handed it to Vira, saying,

Ollivander: Here, try it!

The old man seemed strangely energetic as he shoved the wand toward him, but the excitement of holding the wand for the first time was too overwhelming for Vira to care.

The excitement seemed to be shared by the wand itself, as it responded to him. Something from the depths of his soul poured into the wand. The wand seemed to gain what it wanted, becoming more and more comfortable to hold.

Just a second before, the wand had felt prickly and rough in Vira's hands, but now it seemed to have transformed into something softer, almost like cotton. Holding it felt similar to holding a stress ball from his previous life—comfortable and soothing. These were the only words that could describe how this pale golden-brown piece of wood felt in his hands.

Vira also noticed subtle grain patterns coursing through the wand, which became more obvious as the energy from his soul and body continued to pour into it.

The wand started to shine, glowing like a torch. At first, the energy flowing out of him was beyond his control—it seemed completely drawn to the wand. But, as time went on, Vira slowly managed to control it.

It wasn't much—he could only control how much energy would be sent—but as he experimented, the light from the wand grew dimmer and dimmer until it completely faded. Vira then started to pour as much as he could, and the light got brighter and brighter until, at a certain point, it separated from the wand itself and shot out in every direction, creating a shockwave that affected everything except for Vira.

Though it could be called a shockwave, it was more of a strong wind that only managed to topple the shelves. It did nothing else—if you counted the air causing Ollivander's already messy hair to become even more disheveled, then maybe it did something. But Professor McGonagall was completely unscathed, her hat still perfectly in place.

Seeing the mess he had caused, Vira was about to apologize, but before he could even utter a sound, he was interrupted by Ollivander.

Ollivander: Don't mind it! Happens to every wizard who gets a wand for the first time. Your professor there created more mess than you when she came here for her wand.

Hearing this, Professor McGonagall just smiled slightly and then waved her wand to place all the shelves back in their proper positions.

Ollivander began to place the wand boxes back by hand. Seeing this, Vira quickly stepped forward to offer his help—after all, he had a persona to maintain.

However, Vira didn't just start placing the wand boxes by himself. He was smart enough to realize that Ollivander needed to be the one to do it, just like how Professor McGonagall hadn't used magic to place the shelves. Vira had noticed that she had carefully placed galleons into the briefcase one by one at Gringotts, so he understood the deliberate nature of the act.

So, Vira simply handed the boxes to Ollivander, who placed each one by himself.

As he did so, Ollivander began to speak.

Ollivander: You know, wands are great judges of character. Unfortunately, everyone believes the Sorting Hat to be the best and ignores the wonderful item in their hands. But no one thinks about them. All they ask is, "What house?"

He seemed to have more to say on that topic, but he was interrupted by a cough from Professor McGonagall. Still, after pausing his words, Ollivander continued, though not picking up where he left off.

Ollivander: Wand wood, core, and even the length of the wand are great ways of knowing someone's character. But no one believes such things. "Hoax," they say!

After that, Ollivander stopped to climb higher on the ladder to reach the upper shelves, then continued.

Ollivander: What do they know? Can't they even trust the wands that have been with them since the very start of their magical journey?

He went silent, but his words had piqued Vira's curiosity. He asked,

Vira: What about mine? What is it made of?

Ollivander: Ash and Occamy Feather, 14 inches. It was made by one of my ancestors, so it doesn't follow the typical three cores. I never thought such a conflicting wand would find an owner.

This answered what Vira asked but not what he truly wanted to know, so he pressed on, speaking with curiosity.

Vira: So, what do they say about me?

Ollivander: The ash wood in your wand says you have an unyielding nature. That you can go through countless trials and still remain firm in your ideals. It gives the wand a no-nonsense, resilient character—ideal for someone who stands firm in their beliefs, like you. The Occamy Feather tells me that you are highly adaptive to every situation you're placed in. You're flexible and intelligent by nature. And the 14-inch length showcases your ambition.

There was silence for a moment. Vira was fairly surprised by the outcome. At first, he thought it was like the psychological tricks that Divination masters in the Muggle world used to tell people what they wanted to hear, but he knew himself, and he recognized that these traits were almost all true. Yet, Ollivander seemed to have more to say.

Ollivander: The wands tell me you're destined for greatness, little boy! And I believe it, and I believe in you. I just hope you'll be a kind, nice boy, unlike the boy before. Thirteen-and-a-half-inch long yew wood wand with a phoenix feather as a core was the wand of the boy I previously belived destined for greatness"

Ollivander paused for a moment, then added,

Ollivander: Its brother has yet to find an owner, but I believe it will choose someone as great as he was.