“Ebony, Thunderbird tail feather, thirteen inches, quite rigid.”
Ollivander’s tone was full of joy.
“This wand has been here for far too long…
let me think, it was crafted by my grandfather’s grandfather.
Child, give it a try.”
Flins reached out and took the ebony wand.
The instant his fingertips touched the wood, a strange power surged from his palm—somewhat different from elemental energy, starting from the soul and settling into the bloodline.
The wand seemed to answer him as well.
The wood grew faintly warm, as if it had come alive.
Right after that, he felt his elemental energy climb along the wand, drawing a faint, threadlike link between himself and the wood.
Thunderbird…
His mind drifted for a brief moment.
Did the Thunderbird of Teyvat have anything to do with this feather?
He lifted his wrist and gave it a gentle flick.
A burst of dazzling purple light exploded from the tip of the wand, shining as bright as a ball of lightning held right in the palm of a hand.
At the very same moment, the clear sky outside suddenly darkened.
A roll of thunder tumbled from deep within the clouds, crashing down with a roar.
Raindrops immediately slammed against the windowpanes, clattering down without warning.
Ollivander’s eyes flew wide, his whole body leaning back, and then he began shouting with excitement:
“Oh!
Splendid!
Truly, wonderful!
How extraordinary—”
He clapped his hands, his pale eyes shining with frightening brightness.
“You will achieve great things, Mr.
Flins!
You must know, thirteen itself is a number filled with magic!”
Flins handed nine Galleons to Ollivander, took the wrapped wand, and turned to walk out of the shop.
The rain outside was falling even harder than before, crashing against the cobblestones of Diagon Alley and kicking up a sheet of white mist.
Snape stood under the eaves.
He gave the pitch-black wand in Flins’s hand a cool glance, said nothing, and merely raised his wand to cast a Drying Charm over Flins.
When the raindrops fell to about two inches above his head, they seemed to hit an invisible umbrella, sliding right off.
“Keep up.” Snape dropped just those two words and turned into the curtain of rain.
The rest of the trip went smoothly.
First, they went to Flourish and Blotts to buy all the Hogwarts textbooks, stacking a thick pile on the counter; Flins picked out a few extra books on the history of the wizarding world as well.
There were quite a few other supplies left to purchase: a cauldron, scales, potion phials, a telescope, brass scales…
Snape led him through the small shops of Diagon Alley with quick, steady steps, clearly knowing the roads inside out.
The only exception was the apothecary—for the first time that day, Snape did not wait outside the door, but walked in together with Flins.
The shop smelled of a strange mix of potions.
Snape walked straight to the counter and rattled off a list of potion ingredients, speaking very quickly.
The shopkeeper clearly knew him too, turning briskly to search through the shelves.
By the time Flins had collected everything on his own list and looked back, he saw that Snape was holding a package too, wrapped in brown paper so nothing inside could be seen.
Flins took an extra look, but did not ask.
Snape did not explain either.
He merely stuffed the paper package into his robe pocket and said flatly, “If everything is bought, we head back.”
With that, he turned toward the door of the shop, his black robes stirring up a cool breeze carrying the smell of herbs.
Snape brought Flins back to the front door of his house, again by Apparition.
In passing, he handed Flins an envelope.
“This is your train ticket to Hogwarts.
September first—King’s Cross Station—it is all written on the ticket.”
Having said that, without waiting for Flins to reply, the dark professor vanished from the doorstep.
Flins pushed open the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him.
The house was quiet, and for once, he felt a wave of tiredness.
He had not felt this way in a very long time.
After all, back in Teyvat, he spent most of his time resting inside his lamp, and the Evernight Cemetery was not a place where he needed to act like an ordinary human every day.
Even when the Traveler came to visit him later on, that kindhearted young lady never asked him to keep up any appearances.
Spending a whole day like today—holding an expression, watching every word, handling social games—was indeed quite draining for him.
He sat down in the freshly arranged living room, casually unhooked the lamp pendant from his chest, set it on the table, and pulled the Two-way Mirror from his pocket.
The moment he picked up the mirror, Lumine’s voice popped out, unable to wait:
“Flins!
Did anything interesting happen today?”
The tight look on Flins’s face softened slightly, the corners of his mouth curving as he set the mirror down on the table.
In the mirror, Lumine wore her familiar white coat, looking much livelier than last time, her eyes bright and wide with a look of “hurry up and tell me everything.”
“I went to Diagon Alley with the Hogwarts professor today.”
As Flins spoke, he pulled the ebony wand from his pocket and held it up to the mirror.
“The power system of this world does have its unique traits.
It is well worth studying.”
Lumine leaned close to look at the wand.
“Oh?
Black.
Looks pretty cool.”
“Young lady,” Flins placed the wand back on the table and looked at the glass, “You can get in touch with the Traveler over in Teyvat, right?
Could you ask her to bring me a Thunderbird feather?
She told me stories about the Thunderbird before, and I am a little curious.”
Lumine took a closer look at the wand and nodded easily:
“Sure, getting a little thing like that across is no problem.
But you need to take it easy; things from another world can’t be discovered by the locals, or it won’t be good for the stability of this world.”
“I understand.”
“By the way, that professor of yours today—what’s his name?”
Lumine rested her chin in her hand, speaking in a casual tone that hinted she might know his ancestors:
“Let’s see if he’s a descendant of an old friend of mine, so he can look out for you a bit.”
Flins half-lowered his eyelids as if recalling, then said in a calm voice:
“That gentleman is named Snape.
A very strict person.
However—”
He paused.
“Humans always need some kind of anchor to fix their place in the world.
That Mr.
Snape seems to be such a person.”
When he finished speaking, he noticed Lumine’s expression had frozen.
Her golden eyes went wide and round, her mouth hanging slightly open.
Only after quite a while did she let out a weird yelp:
“Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait!
Isn’t that—oh gosh, how did you end up dropping into this era?!”
Flins tilted his head slightly, looking at her with a bit of confusion.
Right after that, Lumine began muttering rapidly to herself on the other side of the mirror, rambling about things like “the main plot,” “the savior,” and “hasn’t so-and-so not even started school yet?”
Her words flew out in a rush, her expression full of mixed feelings.
She looked like someone crouching in a corner, shocked and excited, murmuring to herself with a clear look of someone thinking, I followed this drama for so long, and now someone else gets to step right into the show instead of me!
It took a while before she turned her attention back onto Flins, her golden eyes sparkling:
“This era is very dangerous!
Your ‘school vacation trip’ is going to be super interesting.
Though—”
She suddenly slapped her forehead, a trace of regret creeping into her tone, “Because of how special this era is, you probably won’t be able to call me anytime you want while you’re at school.”
Even as she talked about regret, her face was completely full of mischievous amusement that said, What a pity I can’t watch it all in person!
Yet that bit of disappointment came and went quickly.
She soon leaned in close to the mirror again, her bright eyes fixed on Flins:
“When the holidays come, you definitely have to tell me all about it!
Every single detail!”
Looking at her face pressed right up against the glass, Flins finally could not help letting out a low chuckle.
A touch of fond indulgence and a faint warmth filled his bright yellow eyes, and his voice softened as well:
“At your service, young lady.”