A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Hagrid's pink umbrella was quite peculiar.

William had seen him use it to cast spells more than once.

But Hagrid always claimed that his wand had been broken and refused to admit anything strange about the umbrella.

Although William was curious, he didn't dwell on it too much. After all, he was just a newbie to the wizarding world and hadn't yet understand how extraordinary it was to restore a broken wand to working condition.

"Well then, our young wizard is eager now," Ollivander said, turning his attention back to William.

He pulled a silver-marked tape measure from his pocket.

"Mr. Stark, which arm do you use for your wand?"

"Right hand."

"Alright, raise your arm… Good."

Ollivander began taking measurements, starting from shoulder to fingertip, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and finally around his head.

William felt the urge to ask, "Since wands choose the wizard, and each wand's size is already made, not custom-fitted like robes… what's the point of all these measurements?"

But he kept quiet. Asking such a straightforward question might get him smacked in the head.

As Ollivander measured, he rambled on, "Each Ollivander wand contains powerful magical substances, Mr. Stark. That's the essence of what makes them so special.

"I commonly use unicorn hair, phoenix feathers, and dragon heartstrings.

"Every Ollivander wand is unique because no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are alike.

"Of course, if you use a wand meant for another wizard, it will never perform as well."

The tape measure began working on its own as Ollivander darted around the shelves, instructing Cedric to pull down some long boxes.

Cedric, as an apprentice, was essentially doing the heavy lifting.

But Cedric didn't seem the least bit bothered; he clearly enjoyed the job.

"Alright," Ollivander said, as the tape measure snapped back and coiled itself up.

"Now, Mr. Stark, try this one. Hawthorn wood with a unicorn hair core, ten inches, reasonably springy."

Cedric, acting like a well-trained apprentice, pulled out a worn notebook but didn't open it. Instead, he recited from memory:

"Page ninety-five, line six.

"Gregorovitch once said, 'A hawthorn wand is a wand of contradictions, much like the tree from which it comes. Its leaves and flowers can heal, but its branch's scent is deadly…'"

Ollivander nodded, adding his own commentary:

"While I don't agree with Gregorovitch on most things, we share an understanding of the complex and fascinating nature of hawthorn wands.

"They only accept owners who are well-matched."

"Cedric, remember this, from my experience—hawthorn wands favor wizards who are going through a period of inner turmoil."

Ollivander then snatched the wand back from William.

"Clearly not the right one for you, my boy," he said, shaking his head.

"Let's try this one instead." He pulled out a wand with black streaks.

"Applewood with kelpie hair, nine and a quarter inches, very supple."

Cedric quickly recited, "Page one thousand nine hundred and twenty-six, line ninety-four.

"Applewood symbolizes longevity, and paired with kelpie hair…"

"Exactly! A brilliant combination," Ollivander said, rubbing his hands together excitedly.

"Eastern wizards often use this combination. My ancestors once crafted a similar wand for Nicolas Flamel.

"It worked quite well, though most credit his success to time magic or the Philosopher's Stone—now, try it young man!"

As soon as William touched the wand, he felt a surge of uncontrollable magic pouring out of him.

Ollivander quickly snatched the wand back, but it was too late—the door exploded.

"Oh, sorry," William said.

"That's not your fault, my boy. The door can be fixed, but this wand clearly isn't right for you either."

Ollivander was growing more and more excited. He hadn't had such a picky customer in ages.

"We'll find it—the perfect one, won't we?"

William tried one wand after another, and the pile of discarded wands on the bench grew taller and taller.

But Ollivander kept instructing Cedric to grab more wands from the shelves, his entire body trembling in excitement, caught up in some kind of frenzy.

"A picky customer who can't find the perfect match? No problem, let me think. There's always a solution—always a perfect match somewhere. Let me see—oh, I've got it! How could I forget?"

Ollivander suddenly shouted, startling Hagrid so much that he almost crushed his pink umbrella.

Ollivander began hopping and skipping like a madman.

"A most extraordinary combination! Cherry wood, phoenix feather, twelve and three-quarter inches. Firm, very firm."

He personally went to the display window and carefully picked up the wand that had been sitting there on a faded purple cushion.

William took the wand, and the moment it touched his fingertips, he felt a warmth spread through his body.

He raised the wand above his head and gave it a swift downward swish. 

With a whoosh, a bright red light burst forth from the wand tip, and golden sparks shot out like fireworks, casting shimmering lights across the shop walls.

Ollivander clapped his hands, shouting, "Oh, marvelous! Absolutely marvelous!"

Cedric carefully placed the wand in a box and wrapped it in brown paper while Ollivander, his pale eyes gleaming, watched William closely.

"This wand was made by my grandfather, Gabbard Octavius Ollivander—the greatest wandmaker of the last two hundred years.

"The cherry wood is quite rare. Ever since my grandfather pioneered this combination, it's become the favored material at Mahoutokoro School of Magic in Japan.

"I always thought this wand would stay in the display window forever. But I see now…"

Hagrid joined in, clapping as well. "When I came to buy my wand as a child, that one was already in the window!"

William: "…"

Ollivander was making it sound grand, but William couldn't help but wonder—isn't this just a fancy way of clearing out old stock as part of the Ministry's 'supply-side reforms'?

He didn't dare say it out loud, but instead asked curiously, "Mahoutokoro?"

"Oh, that's the only known magic school in Asia, though I believe there are others yet to be discovered," Ollivander said as he began repairing the blasted door. He shot a knowing glance at Cedric, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

Cedric then pulled out a gift box from somewhere, maintaining his polite tone while seamlessly switching into sales mode.

"Buying a wand isn't the end of it, of course. Wands are precious and need regular maintenance.

"But don't worry! Ollivander's Wand Shop is offering a special summer maintenance package:

"For just three Galleons, you can get a maintenance kit worth five Galleons to keep your wand in top condition.

"And for five Galleons, you can get the kit plus a two-year warranty.

"During the warranty period, we'll repair your wand for free—unless it's broken in half.

"We also offer family packages to cover all the wands in your household, though that comes at a higher cost…"

William felt like he was staring at a barber trying to sell him a membership card again.

Before he could say anything, Hagrid jumped up from his chair, beaming, and shouted, "I'll take one!"

William: "…"