Morrin accepted the wand.
━━━━━ 🔍 SCAN ━━━━━ Item Contacted: Beechwood Wand (Mundane) Compatibility: 15% Evaluation: It cannot withstand your grip, much less your magic.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Morrin didn’t even get the chance to wave it.
He merely tightened his fingers slightly.
Crack.
A sharp snap rang through the shop.
A fracture had appeared straight through the delicate wand in his hand.
Ollivander’s eyelid twitched.
“Oh…
It would seem that one was rather too fragile.” “My apologies.” Without the slightest hint of sincerity, Morrin handed the damaged wand back.
“Sturdy…” Ollivander murmured.
“Yes.
Sturdy.” A spark of excitement appeared in the old wandmaker’s pale eyes.
“Try this one.
Ebony, unicorn hair, eight and a half inches.
Very springy.” Morrin took the second wand.
This one did not break.
But the instant he tried channelling magic into it, the wand began to tremble violently.
It emitted a piercing whistle, then shot out of his hand as though it had been burned and slammed into the wall.
━━━━━ 🔍 SCAN ━━━━━ Item Contacted: Ebony Wand Compatibility: 5% Evaluation: Rejection.
Your magic is far too domineering.
The unicorn hair does not like you.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ “Fussy…
extraordinarily fussy.” Rather than becoming annoyed, Ollivander grew even more excited.
He darted through the shelves like a madman and returned carrying more than a dozen boxes.
One wand began smoking the instant it touched Morrin’s hand.
Another remained as lifeless as a dead branch.
A third bent to a perfect ninety degree angle in his grip.
As discarded boxes accumulated across the floor, Harry could only stare in astonishment.
He had thought his wand selection had been difficult.
Morrin looked as though he were dismantling the shop.
“I see…” Ollivander finally stopped.
He stared at Morrin, those silvery eyes seeming to pierce straight through him.
“Ordinary woods cannot bear your strength.
Ordinary cores cannot answer your ambition.” The old man searched his memory for the handful of oddities he had sealed away over the years.
“Wait here.” Ollivander turned and disappeared into the deepest part of the shop, where the dust lay thicker than anywhere else.
A long while later, he returned carrying a slender black box.
“This one has been sitting here for almost half a century.” Ollivander blew the dust from its lid.
His voice had become solemn.
“I once thought it would never find a master.
It is simply too…
heavy.
Both physically and magically.” He opened the box.
Inside lay a pitch black wand without a single carving or decorative flourish.
Its surface possessed an almost metallic sheen.
“Black ironwood, the hardest variety of lignum vitae.
Thirteen inches.
So rigid as to be virtually inflexible.” Ollivander lowered his voice.
“The core is…
Hebridean Black dragon heartstring.
Specifically, the thickest strand taken from near the dragon’s atrium.” “Black ironwood…
Black dragon heartstring…” Morrin stared at the wand.
Both [Half Giant Bloodline] and [Origin of Alchemy] stirred violently within him.
He reached out and wrapped his fingers around the handle.
Heavy.
That was his first impression.
The wand weighed at least five times as much as an ordinary one.
In his hand, it felt less like a wand and more like a solid iron rod.
But for Morrin, who now carried a trace of giant blood, the weight felt exactly right.
Then— BOOM!
There were no sparks.
No shower of colourful light.
Instead, a visible black ripple burst outwards from Morrin.
Every wand box on the surrounding shelves began to tremble.
The dust hanging in the air was blasted away in an instant, leaving a perfectly clean sphere around him.
Morrin felt as though he were no longer holding a piece of wood.
The wand had become an extension of his arm.
Through the perception granted by [Origin of Alchemy], he could clearly see the magical pathways within the wand locking perfectly into his own magic, forming an exquisitely precise amplifier.
━━━━━ REWARDS ━━━━━ [Signature Weapon Acquired] Item: Black Ironwood Wand Quality: 🟣 Purple (Growth-Type) Evaluation: A violent wand for a violent gentleman.
━━━ [Trait detected] Trait 1 | Crushing Force Physical strikes carry an armour-breaking effect.
This is both a wand and a club.
━━━ Trait 2 | Magic Amplification Offensive spells and Transfiguration receive a 30% increase in effectiveness.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ “Perfect…” Morrin breathed.
He casually gave the wand a flick.
A black blade of force flashed through the air and sliced a corner clean off the counter in front of him.
The cut was smooth as a mirror.
“Oh!” Ollivander gave a cry of genuine anguish, yet somehow his smile was brighter than ever.
“I knew it!
I knew it!” “Black ironwood has always favoured witches and wizards of unwavering will, those with a certain…
ruthlessness about them.” “How much?” Morrin turned the heavy ‘weapon’ over in his hand, plainly reluctant to put it down.
“Seven Galleons.” Ollivander bowed.
“And, if you please, another three Galleons for repairs to my counter.” Morrin promptly lined up ten gold coins.
When he and Harry emerged from the wand shop, Hagrid was standing in the sunshine holding two enormous ice creams.
“Found ’em?” Hagrid asked cheerfully.
He handed Harry a chocolate one and Morrin a raspberry.
“We did.” Morrin accepted the ice cream.
With his other hand, he lightly brushed the Black Ironwood Wand tucked inside his suit, reassured by its substantial weight.
His gaze shifted from Hagrid’s pink umbrella to Harry’s holly wand.
“Mr Hagrid.” Morrin took a lick of his ice cream, letting the cloying sweetness melt across his tongue.
“Does Hogwarts permit students to bring their own servants or butlers?” “Er, ‘course not, Morrin.
Just owls, cats or toads.” “What a pity.” Morrin shrugged, a calculating gleam flickering through his eyes.
“Then I suppose I’ll have to recruit a few capable ’employees’ once I arrive.
I certainly don’t intend to waste all my time writing essays.” ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ September 1st.
For once, the London sky was clear.
Pale golden sunlight filtered through the thin morning mist and spilled across the bustling entrance to King’s Cross Station.
At half past ten, a brand new Rolls Royce Phantom, black as midnight, glided to a halt outside.
Compared with the unfortunate Silver Spirit that had ‘given its life in the line of dut’ a month earlier, this car had been fitted with bulletproof glass and a reinforced chassis.
Not because Morrin was particularly worried about bullets.
He simply wanted to make sure the vehicle would survive if he happened to sneeze too hard one day and blew something up again.
The door opened.
Morrin stepped out wearing a perfectly tailored charcoal three piece suit beneath a black cashmere overcoat.
In one hand, he leaned on his heavy black ironwood wand as he coolly surveyed the crowds hurrying around him.
To Muggle eyes, it appeared to be nothing more than an elegant cane.
“Young master, your luggage has been unloaded.” Alfred approached, pushing a heavily laden trolley.
It carried not only a huge black leather trunk but also an elegant birdcage.
Inside perched a magnificent Eurasian eagle owl.
One of Morrin’s acquisitions from the past month.
He had named it Nasdaq.
“Thank you, Alfred.” Morrin glanced at his watch.
“You can head back now.
I’ll send a letter at Christmas.
Keep an eye on those funds shorting the rouble.” “Yes, young master.” The elderly butler hesitated, as though there were something more he wanted to say.
In the end, he merely bowed respectfully.
“I hope you have…
an enjoyable term.” He watched as his eleven year old master, the boy who had already become the pillar of the White family, turned towards that unknown magical world.
Morrin took hold of the trolley and entered the station.