Get comfortable, turn the page, and let’s see what this story has been hiding 🔥 ✦ After collecting his salary, Elias left Gringotts with Dumbledore and headed toward Ollivanders.
As they passed a sweet shop that gave off a rich buttery smell, Dumbledore’s eyes suddenly brightened.
“Professor Vale, wait here a moment, if you would.” Without waiting for an answer, he slipped eagerly into the shop.
When Dumbledore emerged, he held a bag of dark sweets.
Elias noticed that the things inside it were moving.
“Would you care for one?” Dumbledore asked, offering the bag with genuine enthusiasm.
“One of my favorites.
Cockroach Clusters.” Elias looked into the bag.
The sweets deserved their name.
Each one looked exactly like a lifelike cockroach, scuttling through the bag in Dumbledore’s hand.
The effect was unpleasantly convincing.
“I will try one.
Thank you.” Elias plucked out a cockroach and studied the workmanship.
To his surprise, the candy struggled between his fingers like a real insect, trying to wriggle free.
He put it in his mouth.
The moment the sweet touched his tongue, it went still.
Only then did Elias discover that the bizarre little thing tasted unexpectedly excellent.
The outer shell had the bitter edge of coffee, and when he bit down, sweet chocolate cream burst out inside.
The combination was absurdly good.
“Good heavens,” Elias said, genuinely impressed.
“That is excellent.” “Many people miss a wonderful sweet because they cannot look past the shape,” Dumbledore said, sounding almost philosophical.
Elias continued taking in the shops of Diagon Alley until they arrived before a narrow, shabby storefront.
Ollivanders looked cramped, old, and worn.
A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the window.
The peeling sign above the door read: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.
Dumbledore pushed the door open, and Elias followed.
The shop inside was small, with nothing but a single bench in the corner.
Thousands of narrow boxes, each containing a wand, were stacked from floor to ceiling.
A thin layer of dust lay over nearly everything.
“Good heavens.
Professor Dumbledore.” An old man appeared from between a stack of boxes.
His hair was slightly disordered, and his pale, silvery eyes widened at the sight of his visitors.
“Are you here to have a wand repaired, Mr.
Dumbledore?” Ollivander’s gaze shifted to Elias and lingered briefly on the two swords across his back.
“And this gentleman?
How may I help you?” Ollivander had an exceptional memory.
Even wands sold decades ago could often lead him back to their owners.
Perhaps it was a talent passed down through the Ollivander family.
But he was quite certain he had never received a customer like Elias before.
“I am here to help Elias, Hogwarts’ newest professor, obtain his first wand,” Dumbledore said with a smile.
“Ah.
Very good.
It is rare to see an adult wizard purchasing his first wand, but Ollivanders never refuses a customer.” Mr.
Ollivander drew a long silver measuring tape from his pocket.
“Though I must correct you, Mr.
Dumbledore,” he added, suddenly solemn.
“The wand chooses the wizard.
Not the other way around.” He turned to Elias.
“Which arm do you use for spellcasting, Professor Vale?” “My left.
I hold a sword in my right.” Ollivander adjusted his spectacles and glanced again at the blades on Elias’s back.
“I see.
Raise your arm, please.” The silver measuring tape began taking measurements by itself: wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit, and finally the circumference of Elias’s head.
Then it flew back into Ollivander’s hand.
Elias wondered what use the measurements could possibly have when every wand was already made, but he kept the question to himself.
“Willow and dragon heartstring.
Twelve inches.
A powerful wand.
Try this one, Mr.
Vale.” Elias took the wand and gave it a light wave.
A shower of dazzling sparks burst from the tip.
“Clearly not for you.” Ollivander handed him another wand.
Elias waved it just as gently, and a beam of light punched a hole through the cabinet opposite them.
“Also not that one,” Ollivander said with regret.
One wand after another followed.
None suited him.
Time passed.
Sweat gathered on Ollivander’s brow.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, had gone out for snacks for the third time and was currently eating a bowl of strawberry ice cream dusted with sugar.
“You are a difficult customer, Mr.
Vale,” Ollivander said, wiping his forehead.
“But that is not your fault.
Come with me.” He beckoned Elias to follow, ignoring the great pile of rejected wands on the counter.
Elias followed him down into the cellar beneath Ollivanders.
It was dim, lit only by an old oil lamp hanging from the wall.
The wandmaker searched through a tall cabinet packed with boxes, stirring up enough dust to make himself cough.
“Aha.
Here it is.” Ollivander drew out a wooden case that looked ancient and grimy, wrapped from end to end in fine cord.
It took them some effort to free the box.
At last, the dirty old case opened, revealing a white wand inside.
“Yes.
Yes, this is the one.” Ollivander’s excitement was unmistakable.
“A bold experiment by one of my ancestors.
Unfortunately, this wand never found a suitable master.” He lowered his voice.
“The body is ghoul forearm bone.
The core is Dementor spinal cord.” Ollivander spoke the word Dementor as though even the cellar walls might object.
The moment Elias closed his hand around the wand, an indescribable sensation filled him.
It was as though the wand had always been part of his arm.
Frosty air streamed from the tip, and Ollivander sneezed in the sudden chill.
“Ha!
Excellent.
It suits you very well, Mr.
Vale.
This wand has accompanied the Ollivander family for more than a thousand years.
Today, at last, it has found its proper owner.” They returned to the front of the shop.
When Dumbledore heard that the thousand-year wand had finally chosen a master, he congratulated Ollivander and Elias both.
Without a Hogwarts subsidy, the wand cost twenty Galleons.
Elias paid readily.
Ollivander was so delighted by the wand’s long-awaited match that he added a wand-care kit and one year of free maintenance and repair.
At last, Elias took his leave of Ollivander.
Dumbledore left with him, carrying the small collection of wrappers and empty containers produced while he had waited.
✦ ✦ ✦ Ready for more?
CREATORS’ THOUGHTS EmberHollow Thank you for reading.
I hope this chapter pulled you deeper into the story.
Stick around, because there’s still a lot waiting just ahead.