“Snakes?” Professor McGonagall repeated the word.
She didn’t answer Lynn’s question immediately, but first looked at the sealed copper mirror.
The mirror was quiet now, covered in dust like an ordinary piece of old furniture.
Arthur grew uneasy.
“Why ask about snakes all of a sudden?
What did…
what did that Great-Grandmother say just now?” Helen also looked at Lynn, her face still carrying lingering panic.
Lynn didn’t hide much.
“She mentioned Malfoy, and a snake.” Professor McGonagall’s expression turned even graver.
“Hogwarts allows students to bring an owl, a cat, or a toad.
Snakes are not within the permitted scope.” “Then things get interesting,” Lynn said.
“If something that explicitly shouldn’t appear is specifically warned to be brought into school, it usually means it’s not a pet.” Arthur’s scalp went numb as he listened.
“Can we apply not to go to that school?” “Dad,” Lynn looked at him.
“We just bought the books.” “The books can be returned.” “I don’t think the wizarding world has a seven-day no-questions-asked return policy.” Arthur choked.
Professor McGonagall interrupted this ill-timed father-son discussion.
“Mr.
Grey, I will keep this in mind.
But I must also warn you, do not take the initiative to approach members of the Malfoy family just because of a phrase left by an afterimage.” Lynn nodded.
“Don’t worry, Professor.
I’ve fully realized today that the Malfoy family’s social experience isn’t really suited for repeat consumption.” Professor McGonagall glanced at him.
She couldn’t help but feel that this student’s “don’t worry” had a very limited degree of credibility.
The matter in the private room temporarily concluded.
Professor McGonagall handed the copper mirror to Tom the barkeep to handle, requesting it be sealed away and never put in a guest room again.
Terrified, Tom nodded repeatedly, claiming he had no idea when the mirror had even ended up in the private room.
Hearing this, Lynn made another mental note.
The old mirror hadn’t appeared here by coincidence.
It was as if it were waiting for the Prince bloodline, or waiting for the key to be retrieved.
This showed that the arrangements left by Eileen Prince Grey weren’t limited to Gringotts.
While she claimed to keep her descendants away from the wizarding world, she had actually left signposts for the child who truly returned.
Contradictory.
But also very human.
Fearing the child would be hurt, yet also fearing the child would die in the shadows of the past without knowing anything.
When they left the Leaky Cauldron, it was still early.
The bustle of Diagon Alley hadn’t diminished, but instead grew livelier as school approached, with many families taking their children shopping.
Professor McGonagall checked the list.
“Only one last item remains: the wand.” Arthur immediately perked up.
“I know this one.
Wizards all need wands.” “Yes,” Professor McGonagall said.
“Mr.
Ollivander is the best wandmaker in Britain.
Remember, choosing a wand is not like buying ordinary goods.
The wand chooses the wizard.” Arthur whispered to Lynn, “Do they jump out on their own?” Lynn thought about it seriously.
“Considering the mirror could talk today, a wand jumping around isn’t entirely unacceptable.” Helen couldn’t help but swat him on the side.
“Don’t say such things.” The group arrived in front of Ollivanders.
The shop was narrow, its sign faded and dark.
There was only a single wand displayed on a faded cushion in the window.
When the door opened, there was no clerk greeting them, only row upon row of white, long boxes reaching to the ceiling.
The air smelled of wood shavings and old polish.
The moment Lynn stepped inside, he felt a sensation of being watched.
Not by a person.
By those boxes.
The feeling wasn’t strong, but it was dense.
Like a crowded theater where all the spectators were silent, waiting for the actor on stage to speak.
The problem was, Lynn didn’t like standing on stage.
“Good afternoon.” A voice came from deep within the shelves.
Mr.
Ollivander stepped out as if from a gap between the boxes.
His hair was messy, and his silvery eyes fixed on Lynn before turning to Professor McGonagall.
“Professor McGonagall.
Time again for the new students to find their partners.” “Good afternoon, Mr.
Ollivander,” Professor McGonagall said.
“This is Lynn Grey.” Ollivander’s gaze fell back onto Lynn.
“Grey,” he murmured.
“Prince bloodline, the surname of Grey, and a pair of eyes that are far too quiet.
A rare combination.” Arthur, who had wanted to greet him politely, immediately became guarded upon hearing this.
“How do you know about the Prince family?” Ollivander acted as if he hadn’t heard the question.
He pulled out a measuring tape from beneath the counter.
The tape flew up on its own, beginning to measure Lynn’s arms, shoulder width, and knuckles.
Lynn remained still.
The tape wound around him, feeling slightly cool when it touched his wrist.
Ollivander stared at the measurements, but seemed to be looking at something else.
“Wand hand?” “Right hand,” Lynn replied.
“Personality?” Arthur was taken aback.
“Do you have to ask about personality to buy a wand?” “Of course,” Ollivander said.
“A wand doesn’t choose a hand; it chooses a wizard.” Lynn thought for a moment.
“Gentle, law-abiding, and loves to learn.” Professor McGonagall fell silent.
Helen was also silent.
Arthur looked at his son, then at Professor McGonagall, trying very hard not to call him out.
But Ollivander smiled.
“Child, wands don’t really care for résumés.” Lynn sighed.
“Then let me put it another way.
Curious, but dislikes trouble.
Willing to observe, but dislikes standing in the middle of a crowd.
When facing danger, my priority is to leave.
If I can’t leave, then I’ll consider making the danger leave.” Ollivander’s movements paused briefly.
Professor McGonagall’s gaze toward Lynn also shifted slightly.
Arthur whispered to Helen, “That sounds much more like him.” Ollivander turned and pulled out a white box.
“Try this one.
Apple wood, dragon heartstring, ten inches, suitable for a wizard with charisma and clear goals.” Lynn took the wand.
The moment his fingertips brushed the wand’s body, three rows of boxes in the shop vibrated simultaneously.
Arthur jumped in surprise.
Helen subconsciously took half a step back.
Professor McGonagall gripped her wand.
Ollivander, however, grew excited.
“Oh, no, not this one.” He practically snatched the wand from Lynn’s hand and quickly swapped it for another.
“Willow, unicorn hair, suitable for someone with potential but in need of guidance.” Lynn took hold of it again.
The candle on the counter went out.
The shop grew dark for an instant.
“Not this one either,” Ollivander’s voice quickened.
“Holly, phoenix feather—no, this one won’t do.
Pear wood, dragon heartstring—no.
Ebony, unicorn hair, perhaps…” The third wand caused a layer of frost to coat the glass display case.
The fourth wand caused the copper bell in the corner to swing on its own, though it made no sound.
Before the fifth wand could even get close to Lynn, the wand inside the box shrunk back by an inch.
Arthur’s face was completely stiff.
“Is this normal?” Professor McGonagall didn’t answer.
Because she didn’t think it was normal either.
But Ollivander looked as though he had discovered some rare, precious puzzle.
He walked half a circle around Lynn, his silvery eyes almost pressed right up to Lynn’s face.