Chapter 6: The Expensive Wand

Elderberry.

This particular word immediately caught Allen's attention, but he quickly masked his surprise.

Fortunately, no one noticed the change in his expression. Mr. Ollivander, after saying the word, didn't pay further attention to Allen but instead watched Professor McGonagall's reaction.

Professor McGonagall, standing to the side, looked thoughtful but said nothing.

Upon seeing this, Mr. Ollivander remained silent for a moment, then murmured, "It's just a myth, a legend really. Many people treat it as nothing more than a fairy tale... Never mind that. Let's focus on this wand."

He placed the wand carefully in front of Allen with a solemn expression, as if an old father were about to entrust his beloved daughter to someone else.

"In addition to elderberry and unicorn horn," he explained, "I incorporated dozens of rare and valuable materials as supplementary components to enhance the wand's power. At the time, I was so focused on stacking these precious elements that I forgot one essential truth: no matter how powerful a wand is, it needs a master."

"When I finished crafting this wand, I realized it was too powerful—so powerful that it became arrogant, unwilling to be wielded by ordinary wizards. But today, after observing certain qualities in you, I began to wonder… maybe you can tame it."

Mr. Ollivander looked at Allen with encouraging eyes. "Perhaps your unusual presence, the same force that made the wand's core recoil, can also make it submit."

Professor McGonagall, still watching the exchange, wore a conflicted expression.

She badly wanted to say that giving such a dangerous wand to an eleven-year-old was reckless. And Allen wasn't just any eleven-year-old—he was a maverick. The very idea of him wielding this kind of wand made her worry about what chaos might follow at Hogwarts.

But the ritual of choosing one's first wand was sacred. She didn't want to ruin it.

ADVERTISEMENT

I hope I won't regret this, she sighed inwardly.

With Mr. Ollivander watching him with hope and Professor McGonagall staring at him with unease, Allen couldn't help but feel the gravity of the moment. He hesitated, half-considering whether he should give a dramatic speech or make a joke.

In the end, reason overruled mischief. Allen set aside his theatrical thoughts and simply reached out to grasp the unique wand.

The moment his hand touched it, a powerful pressure surged through him.

It felt like countless eyes were staring directly at him—probing, judging. One gaze in particular, pure and intense, bore into him more deeply than the others. It scrutinized him, exerting enormous pressure on his spirit.

Then, suddenly, those eyes began to fade. Whatever they had seen in him, it seemed to frighten them. They retreated one by one until only that last, pure gaze remained. It lingered for a long while before slowly withdrawing.

In the next instant, Allen opened his eyes.

A soft white mist emerged from the tip of the wand, peaceful and serene in its glow. It floated gently into the air like a blessing, or a sigh of relief.

"It's a success," Mr. Ollivander whispered in awe. "I never thought I would live to see the day someone could wield this wand."

Allen remained silent. He stared at the mist, strangely unsettled.

It feels like this mist is a white flag… Is the wand surrendering to me?

So it's not that I'm suited to this wand—it's just that I scare it?

How can a level-one wizard like me scare something like that?

…

Now that the wand was his, there was just one thing left to do—pay for it.

ADVERTISEMENT

That was when Allen's excitement turned to dread.

He had been too absorbed in Mr. Ollivander's dramatic storytelling and the grandeur of the wand to think practically. He hadn't really processed what it meant to own something made of elderberry, unicorn horn, and dozens of expensive magical materials. But now, staring down the reality of the bill, it hit him like a Bludger to the chest.

This feels just like one of those scams on TV shopping channels!

But it was too late to back out now. The wand had surrendered—waved its white flag. Allen couldn't just reject it and ask for a cheaper option. That would be like rejecting a puppy that had already jumped into your arms.

He swallowed hard and forced himself to ask, "Mr. Ollivander, how much does this wand cost?"

As the words left his mouth, Allen's mind was already racing. How am I going to repay this? He remembered Professor McGonagall's warning—this wasn't going to be cheap. And she had specifically said not to borrow from goblins unless he wanted to get involved in some truly unpleasant affairs.

Why is it that in other stories, time travelers never have to worry about food or money? Me? I can't even afford a basic wand. This is messed up.

Allen didn't expect Professor McGonagall to help him. She was a professor, not a relative. As kind as she was, she wasn't the type to casually throw money around, especially on something this extravagant.

"You definitely can't afford the price of this wand," Mr. Ollivander said bluntly, causing Allen's heart to sink.

But from his tone, Allen could tell there was a "but" coming. He held on to that sliver of hope.

"But…" Mr. Ollivander continued, right on cue, "I believe you have great potential. Your future is bright, perhaps even extraordinary. So, I'll allow you to delay the payment. Don't worry—there will be no interest."

Allen exhaled deeply in relief.

"We'll just keep a record of the debt. I won't charge you for my labor—just the cost of materials." Mr. Ollivander looked down, did some mental calculations, and smiled gently.

"The total comes to… twelve thousand Galleons."

Twelve. Thousand. Galleons.

Allen nearly fainted.

He clutched his chest, trying to keep his heart from exploding. I should just declare bankruptcy right here and now.