“Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.” Hermione stood in front of the narrow old shop and stared at the faded golden words written on the hanging signboard.
Her eyes moved between the ancient lettering and the shabby storefront with obvious disbelief.
“382 B.C.?” she muttered.
“That has to be a joke, right?” The building looked far too old and ordinary to possess such an incredible history.
Compared to the colorful and lively stores around Diagon Alley, Ollivanders looked quiet, dusty, and almost forgotten by time itself.
Hermione turned toward Professor McGonagall and Adam, clearly hoping one of them would deny the absurd claim.
Adam smiled faintly before answering.
“Well, the exact date might be slightly exaggerated,” he admitted.
“But the Ollivander family truly has existed for thousands of years.
And they really have been crafting wands for nearly all that time.” Even Adam himself found it astonishing.
The Ambrosius Family was already considered unimaginably ancient within the wizarding world, yet the Ollivanders had existed even longer.
He had once discovered a passage in one of the Ambrosius family journals mentioning the founder of the Ollivander line.
According to the record, the legendary wizard Merlin had met a wandering young wandmaker during his youth.
The man had traveled across countless lands in search of magical materials for wandmaking.
Merlin found the young craftsman fascinating and journeyed alongside him for some time.
The journal described the wandmaker as someone completely obsessed with perfection.
At the time, the young man claimed that his family had already existed for several centuries and had always dedicated themselves to creating superior wands.
Later, Merlin helped him slay a pureblood dragon.
In gratitude, the wandmaker promised that one day he would forge the finest wand the world had ever seen specifically for Merlin.
Unfortunately, Merlin apparently never took the promise seriously and eventually lost contact with him.
Adam had always wondered whether that legendary wand had ever truly been created.
‘Perhaps it still exists somewhere,’ he thought silently.
“Come on,” Adam said while stepping toward the entrance.
“Regardless of whether the date is entirely accurate, nobody in Britain makes better wands than Ollivander.
Honestly, even across the entire wizarding world, his craftsmanship is probably among the very best.” As he spoke, he gently pushed open the door and entered the shop.
Professor McGonagall followed behind him, though her expression became slightly strange after hearing Adam casually discuss ancient magical history.
She glanced at him thoughtfully.
Very few children knew things like that.
Especially not details involving Merlin himself.
The soft ringing of a bell echoed through the shop as they stepped inside.
Immediately, Hermione felt the atmosphere change.
The inside of Ollivanders was small and narrow, far quieter than the bustling streets outside.
Dust floated lazily through the dim light, and towering shelves stretched from floor to ceiling.
Thousands upon thousands of long, narrow wand boxes filled every wall.
The entire shop carried a strange sense of age and mystery.
It felt less like a store and more like a hidden sanctuary dedicated to magic itself.
Hermione unconsciously slowed her breathing.
For some reason, she felt as though speaking too loudly might disturb the ancient silence surrounding them.
Even Mr.
and Mrs.
Granger lowered their voices instinctively.
Then, without warning, a soft voice drifted through the room.
“Good afternoon.” The Grangers jumped in surprise.
A moment earlier, the shop had appeared completely empty.
Now an elderly man stood before them as if he had materialized from the shadows themselves.
Professor McGonagall, Adam, and even Lance immediately inclined their heads politely.
“Mr.
Ollivander.” The old wandmaker’s pale silver eyes seemed to shine unnaturally within the darkness of the shop.
He looked first toward Professor McGonagall.
“Nine and a half inches,” he murmured softly.
“Fir wood.
Rigid, elegant, and exceptionally precise.
It still suits you perfectly after all these years.” Professor McGonagall’s expression softened slightly.
“I’ve always been very fond of it,” she replied calmly.
Ollivander nodded with satisfaction before turning his attention elsewhere.
His gaze landed upon Lance.
“Ah, Lance,” he said with faint amusement.
“What brings you here today?
Have you come to sell me more wandmaking materials?” Unlike the Grangers, Ollivander clearly knew the house-elf quite well.
As one of the greatest wandmakers alive, Ollivander constantly required rare magical materials.
Wand wood itself was relatively easy for him to acquire.
The Ollivander family cultivated many magical trees personally after generations of careful preservation.
Special woods like Elder were naturally much rarer, but ordinary wand woods were never a problem.
The true difficulty lay in obtaining wand cores.
Unicorn hair.
Phoenix feathers.
Dragon heartstrings.
Thestral tail hair.
All of them were precious and difficult to gather in large quantities.
Because of this, Ollivander regularly purchased magical materials from trusted suppliers.
And Lance occasionally served as one of those suppliers.
After all, the Ambrosius Family had maintained close ties with a massive unicorn herd for over a thousand years.
Compared to ordinary wizarding families, they possessed an absurd abundance of rare magical resources.
That was precisely why Adam could afford to use unicorn hair as clothing material.
Most people would never even dream of such extravagance.
Lance bowed respectfully.
“I’m not here to sell materials today, Mr.
Ollivander.
I accompanied the Young Master here to purchase a wand.” “Young Master?” Ollivander slowly turned his gaze toward Adam.
His pale eyes brightened slightly.
Standing beside Adam, Hermione suddenly felt a strange pressure fill the room.
It was subtle but overwhelming.
For a brief moment, it felt as though those silver eyes could see through everything about a person.
Thankfully, the sensation disappeared almost immediately.
Adam stepped forward calmly and bowed politely.
“Adam Ambrosius greets Mr.
Ollivander.” The wandmaker stared at him silently for several seconds.
“So you are the young master Lance often speaks of.” “Yes,” Adam answered simply.
Ollivander walked closer until he stood directly before him.
The dim lighting reflected strangely within the old man’s cloudy eyes, making them appear almost ghostly.
“I have long been curious about the child capable of commanding such loyalty from Lance,” Ollivander said softly.
“I did not expect to finally meet you today.” A faint smile appeared on his face.
“And I must also thank you.
The materials your family entrusted to me have allowed me to create many excellent wands.” Adam responded calmly.
“For such materials to be used by a craftsman like Mr.
Ollivander is probably their greatest honor.” “Heh.” A quiet chuckle escaped the wandmaker.
Clearly, he appreciated the answer.
“Very good,” Ollivander said.
“Mr.
Ambrosius… and this young lady?” “Hermione Granger,” Hermione quickly introduced herself.
“Excellent.
Which of you would like to go first?” As he spoke, Ollivander pulled a silver measuring tape from his pocket.
Adam stepped slightly backward.
“Hermione, you should go first.” Hermione blinked in surprise before smiling gratefully.
“Thank you.” She nervously stepped forward.
“What should I do?” “Which hand do you use for your wand?” Ollivander asked.
“My right hand.” “Then extend your right arm.” Hermione obeyed immediately.
The measuring tape suddenly sprang to life the moment Ollivander released it.
Hermione gasped softly as the tape floated through the air by itself.
It measured her shoulder to fingertips.
Then wrist to elbow.
Shoulder to floor.
Knee to armpit.
Even the circumference of her head.
The tape moved rapidly and precisely while Ollivander wandered among the towering shelves, pulling down various wand boxes almost absentmindedly.
Hermione watched the magical tape in amazement.
“Why are there so many measurements?” she asked curiously.
“Don’t you only need a wand length?” Ollivander smiled faintly while continuing his search.
“Every Ollivander wand contains a core made from a powerful magical substance,” he explained.
“That is the heart and soul of the wand.” “We use unicorn hair, phoenix feathers, and dragon heartstrings most commonly.” He carefully removed another box from a high shelf.
“No two unicorns are identical.
No two dragons are identical.
And certainly no two phoenixes are identical.” He turned back toward Hermione.
“That means every wand is entirely unique.” The floating measuring tape continued dancing around Hermione as he spoke.
“A wand chooses the wizard,” Ollivander continued softly.
“If you attempt to use another wizard’s wand, the results will never be as good.” Mr.
and Mrs.
Granger watched everything with stunned expressions.
The self-moving tape measure alone already seemed unbelievable to them.
But what fascinated them even more was Ollivander himself.
The old wandmaker moved through the shop with uncanny speed despite his age, selecting boxes seemingly at random while muttering quietly under his breath.
At times, he almost appeared less like a human and more like some ancient spirit bound to the wand shop forever.
Meanwhile, Hermione’s nervousness slowly transformed into excitement.
This was exactly the kind of magic she had dreamed about ever since receiving her Hogwarts letter.
Mysterious.
Elegant.
Completely impossible to explain through ordinary logic.
Nearby, Adam quietly observed the scene.
Unlike Hermione, this wasn’t his first visit to Ollivanders.
But even he could not deny the strange atmosphere surrounding the wandmaker.
The Ollivander Family had spent centuries studying the connection between wizards and wands.
Some even believed the family understood magic itself better than most scholars.
Adam’s eyes drifted toward the endless shelves surrounding them.
Thousands of wands rested there silently.
Each one waiting for its destined owner.
Each one carrying its own personality, history, and magical nature.
For a moment, the entire shop felt alive.
As though countless invisible eyes were quietly watching them from the darkness.
Give me more motivation!