“Proud, extreme, volatile…”
Sitting on the steps outside Ollivanders under the bright sunshine, Vaughn examined the brand-new elder wand in his hand.
Ollivander’s muttered words from ten minutes ago still echoed in his ears.
“Dragon heartstring barely rejects any type of magic, Mr.
Vaughn Weasley.
It does not turn from darkness like unicorn hair, nor does it play it safe like a phoenix feather.
It will help you perform any spell to its utmost perfection, power, and brilliance.”
“But I must say, it is also the most accident-prone of all core materials, especially when paired with elder—a wood of volatile temperament that, from the moment of its creation, hungers for the absolute pinnacle.”
“The wizarding world has long whispered that elder wands bring misfortune.
From personal experience, I could tell you that is nonsense.
Yet the truth remains: if one day your destiny ceases to be unique, if you lose your strength, or if you are defeated…”
“Then it is highly likely to abandon you!”
“You must have heard the tale of the Elder Wand.
While *The Tales of Beedle the Bard* is merely a book of fairy tales, it highlights the defining trait of an elder wand—it has never truly belonged to anyone!”
Vaughn gently ran his fingers over the wand.
The characteristic knobby texture of elder wood felt smooth and exceptionally comfortable in his grip.
He could feel it trembling with joy, almost impatient to welcome his magic.
“So, will you abandon me?”
Vaughn murmured.
Naturally, the wand lacked the sentience to answer him.
“Meow!”
Resting its head on Vaughn’s lap, Fruit Tea looked up and let out a soft mew upon hearing him speak, licking his chin as if to comfort him.
Vaughn smiled and scratched Fruit Tea’s thick fur, letting the massive cat nuzzle into his chest while purring contentedly.
Why would he ever worry about his wand betraying him?
Given his personality, he would never let the conditions Ollivander warned about come to pass.
Ceasing to be unique…
unless another transmigrator suddenly showed up in this world!
Losing his strength…
then he would simply stay powerful forever!
Being defeated…
utterly impossible!
Sly old Ollivander had brought up the legend of the Elder Wand under the guise of a children’s fairy tale.
But Vaughn knew for a fact that the Elder Wand truly existed.
It had helped Grindelwald tear the world apart, and then rested quietly in Dumbledore’s hands for decades without ever actively abandoning its master.
In the end, whether it was Grindelwald’s downfall or Dumbledore’s death, those were choices they made themselves as wizards.
A wand was merely an instrument, after all.
“Since you yearn for power, just wait.
In the future, I’ll see how you measure up against the one wielding the Elder Wand!”
With a chuckle, Vaughn slipped his wand into the holster at his waist.
Inside Ollivanders behind him, the crackles and bangs of wand testing continued for a little longer before the door finally flew open.
Ron strode out, flushed with pride, holding a brand-new wand high in the air.
“Fourteen inches, willow, unicorn hair!
Brilliant!” Ron bragged loudly.
“I made thousands of boxes float in there just now.
Too bad you missed it, Vaughn!”
His smug look made him completely forget how, just ten minutes ago, he had been squealing in terror as his mother practically dragged him through the door.
Having finally secured a brand-new possession that didn’t belong to one of his older brothers, the boy’s ego was swelling rapidly.
Then he heard Vaughn speak with a grin, “Did you buy a wand holster?”
The triumphant grin froze on Ron’s face.
“They’re very delicate, you know.
They need to be polished with essential oils.
A proper care kit costs at least several dozen Sickles.”
Ron’s shoulders began to slump of their own accord.
“Tsk.
And doesn’t everyone exchange gifts on Halloween?
I suppose some people don’t need one anymore,” Vaughn added, his smile widening.
Ron sniffled, his eyes welling with tears.
His stubborn pride urged him to puff out his chest and yell back…
but a Halloween gift…
*Blast it!*
*I’ve been played!*
Molly, like any middle-aged mother, loved to chat.
By the time she had finished exchanging pleasantries with Ollivander and stepped out of the shop, their Diagon Alley shopping trip was finally a success.
Well, perhaps it wasn’t quite as enjoyable for Ron.
They returned to The Burrow via the Floo network.
By afternoon, the purchased goods began arriving one after another via owl post—including Fruit Tea, who had been sent separately since cats couldn’t use the Floo network.
Aside from Vaughn’s own school supplies, there were also various sweets he had bought for Ginny.
The little girl gave Vaughn a massive kiss, then immediately took the treats to share them with Fruit Tea.
From the moment she laid eyes on Fruit Tea, she had fallen in love with the “kitty.” When Fruit Tea caught Vaughn’s scent on her and gave her a friendly nuzzle, Ginny wanted nothing more than to glue herself to the cat, dragging it all over the house to mark its new territory.
This only made Ron more miserable.
He spent almost the entire day huddled in his room, terrified of letting Scabbers out.
Yet in the early hours of the following morning, Fruit Tea still managed to corner Scabbers on the second-floor windowsill.
Somehow, the rat had opened the window to Ron’s room, its tail wrapped around a few cookies as if it were planning a runaway attempt.
Unfortunately for it, a Stupefy spell flew from above, leaving the cunning little rat completely defenseless as it became Fruit Tea’s new toy.
When Ron got up in the middle of the night to use the toilet and discovered Scabbers was missing, he rushed to find them.
By then, Scabbers had lost a large patch of fur and was practically on his deathbed.
Ron broke down crying, yelling and screaming.
He tried to chase Fruit Tea away, only to be soundly thrashed by a stomping, short-legged Ginny.
After that, Ron nailed all his windows shut and begged Arthur to build him a rat cage, keeping Scabbers hidden away like a treasured mistress in a secret chamber.
Every day, when Vaughn passed by the fourth floor with Fruit Tea, he would see Ron hiding behind his bedroom door, peering through a crack to watch them with extreme wariness.
Frankly, he looked rather shifty…
Only when Vaughn was brewing his biweekly potions—which required him to stay locked in the attic for several days with Fruit Tea keeping him company—did Ron find some peace.
Those were his happiest days.
Vaughn didn’t pay too much mind to Scabbers; his only priority was making sure the rat didn’t escape.
As he waited for school to start, Vaughn’s life continued its orderly routine.
He brewed potions once every fortnight and practiced spells in his spare time.
He had been teaching himself the spells from the school textbooks since he was eight, using his brothers’ old books and discarded wands.
His level of mastery varied; without a proper teacher to guide him through the nuances, self-study could only take him so far.
Arthur and Molly were out of the question, as they were always busy with work and housework.
As for his brothers…
Percy was far too selfish to ever set aside his own schoolwork to tutor his younger brother.
Fred and George were even worse; their actual spellwork was a total mess.
Vaughn remembered from his past life that the twins, despite being two years older than Harry Potter, actually needed Harry to teach them the Disarming Charm…
How absurd!
Time flew, and at long last, September first arrived!