New chapter is live.
Settle in, take your time, and let’s see what waits in the dark 🖤
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Checking into The Leaky Cauldron went smoothly.
Tom was delighted by Callan’s arrival and praised his excellent Levitation Charm without hiding his admiration.
“I dare say you are the best spell-caster among this year’s first-years!”
Callan thanked him politely.
Tom gave him Room Eleven on the second floor.
By coincidence, it was the same room Harry would stay in before his third year.
There was also a talking mirror inside.
After putting his luggage in order, Callan looked around the room.
Compared with the bar downstairs, it was much cleaner, which made him suspect that the ground floor was kept grimy on purpose to preserve the pub’s historic atmosphere.
“Not bad,” Callan said to himself.
“Everyone says that after seeing the bar,” the mirror replied gently.
Callan looked at it and let out a soft laugh.
Then he took out his wand again, traced his fingers over it with unmistakable eagerness, and began silently practicing from the books he had read at Snape’s house.
For the entire day, Callan shut himself in the room.
He even stayed there during meals.
He no longer thought about Snape and Lily.
Instead, he devoted himself to becoming familiar with spellwork.
He kept at it until late in the evening.
Only then did he stretch, his joints cracking.
“It seems you need more exercise, child,” the mirror said.
Callan raised an eyebrow.
“I will. Eventually.”
With that, he changed into wizarding robes, opened the door, and went out.
He made his way out of The Leaky Cauldron and into Diagon Alley.
The crowds had thinned, and many shops were already closed.
Callan observed his surroundings carefully, his wand hidden in his sleeve.
In the end, he once again arrived outside Ollivanders.
The bell chimed.
“Good evening. Oh, it is…” Ollivander was arranging boxes.
He looked surprised.
“Mr. Ashworth, the courteous young gentleman. We met only today. Is there something wrong with your wand?”
“No, Mr. Ollivander,” Callan said, looking a little embarrassed.
“Actually, after I went back, I thought about many things. About wands.”
“Please, sit.” Ollivander smiled.
“Curiosity should always be encouraged.”
“Thank you.”
Callan sat on the bench.
Ollivander sat opposite him, brought out tea without hesitation, filled both cups, and asked, “Now, what troubles you?”
“It is like this.” Callan sounded genuinely confused.
“You know I come from the Muggle world, so I keep wondering, why can there only be one wand?
“And I noticed that when I was trying wands earlier, there were still many boxes you had not opened. So I wanted to come back and try again.”
“Ah, I see.”
Ollivander clearly had experience with such questions.
He explained patiently, “In wandlore, the wand chooses the wizard. That is obvious enough. That usually means there is one pairing of wizard and wand that suits both better than any other. It is not absolute, but it holds true for most people.”
“However,” Ollivander said, rising, “an occasional attempt seems harmless enough.”
Callan gave him a grateful smile.
As Ollivander turned to bring out more boxes, he continued, “You are not the first young wizard to have such a thought. As a wandmaker, I’m always willing to keep trying. Yet I have never seen an ideal result.”
He carried box after box over and placed them before Callan.
“So it is best to be prepared for disappointment, Mr. Ashworth.”
“Thank you for going to the trouble.”
After one final thanks, Callan began taking the wands out one by one, feeling each in silence.
Because he had already gone through the process once, everything moved quickly.
Empty boxes piled up high, and the remaining ones grew fewer and fewer.
Callan showed no discouragement.
Ollivander watched him with a trace of hope.
Soon, only the bottom box remained.
“It seems we have only one chance left.”
With a complicated look, Ollivander personally handed the box to Callan.
Callan nodded silently and drew out the wand inside with care.
This time, he did not need to try it.
The instant his fingers touched the wand, he knew.
This was his second wand.
It was equally flawless.
“Remarkable. Splendid!”
Ollivander clearly noticed the change in him.
He shot to his feet, hands trembling as he took the wand.
“Truly extraordinary.”
He looked at Callan in disbelief.
Callan only looked confused.
“You see,” Ollivander explained eagerly, “this was a success, though perhaps also a failure.
It was a dream I once had in my youth.
“Of course, that dream never came true, but this wand was completed.”
“Child, this is a wand of elder wood.”
At those words, Callan’s heart gave a hard jolt.
Ollivander remained entranced.
“Eleven and a quarter inches. Dragon heartstring. Elder.”
“You have heard about dragon heartstring already, child. It is a symbol of power. That is why I used it.”
Callan nodded silently.
“As for elder…” Ollivander’s expression filled again with fascination.
“It possesses powerful magic, but it disdains owners who are not exceptional. Witches and wizards who hold elder wands are often remarkable people, however long they possess them.”
“It is like a dream.”
Callan listened quietly, then suddenly asked, “Are there many owners of such wands?”
“Not many. Not many at all. Extremely few, in fact.”
Ollivander slowly shook his head.
“I once hoped to find owners for elder wands, but it seemed almost legendary. As for you…”
He lowered his gaze to Callan.
“Child, in all my years selling wands, you are the only one.”
Callan narrowed his eyes slightly.
After a short silence, he asked again, “You know I bought a wand today.”
“Yes, indeed.” Ollivander nodded.
“Eleven and a quarter inches, unicorn hair, ash. A symbol of absolute loyalty.”
“Is this common?” Callan asked.
“Ash and elder. Is that normal?”
Ollivander closed his eyes and thought carefully for a while.
In the end, he only shook his head.
“I am sorry, child.
As far as I know, owners of elder wands almost always feel some affinity with those chosen by rowan wands.
“But ash…” Ollivander shook his head again.
“Perhaps it suggests a new direction in wandmaking. But I am sorry, child. I truly have never heard of a connection between ash and elder.”
The two fell silent.
Because Callan’s ash wand was now pointed at Ollivander.
“I am very sorry, Mr. Ollivander. I only meant to buy a spare wand.”
With his other hand, Callan reached for the wand in Ollivander’s hand.
When he applied a little pressure, Ollivander seemed afraid the wand might be damaged by force.
He released it voluntarily.
“A great pity.” Ollivander showed no fear of the threat, only deep regret.
“A great pity indeed.
“But I must correct you on one point. The wand chooses the wizard.”
Callan nodded.
“I will remember that, Mr. Ollivander.”
“You still seem troubled, child.” Ollivander sat still and looked at him.
“What are you afraid of?”
“Yes, sir.” Callan’s fingers did not tremble at all.
“Dragon heartstring, and elder. It is hard not to think of a tendency toward Dark magic. That is what worries me.”
“An excellent memory.”
Ollivander praised him.
“But as I have said, the wand chooses the wizard.
It does not command him.
More choices are always made by the wizard.
“On that point, I do not believe you need to worry at all.
“Both ash and unicorn hair chose you. I think you understand what that means, child.”
In that moment, Ollivander seemed like a teacher patiently guiding a student.
“Thank you for clearing that up.”
Callan’s gratitude was genuine.
Then he asked softly, “Is there anything else you wish to say, Mr. Ollivander?”
Ollivander’s gaze shifted to the elder-wood wand.
His eyes remained deeply fascinated.
“Treat it well, child. Treat it well.”
“I will.”
Callan raised the ash wand.
“Obliviate.”
Light flashed, and Ollivander’s expression immediately grew dazed.
Callan said nothing more.
He put the elder-wood wand back into its box, hid it inside his robes, and walked out.
Once he stepped into the cool night air, a chill ran through Callan.
In the end, though, he still complained silently.
‘Wizards really are all lunatics.’
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Want to keep going?
I hope this chapter gave you another reason to stay with the story.
There’s still plenty ahead, and things are only starting to unfold.