Where’s the best place to learn about wands?
Diagon Alley—Ollivanders Wand Shop, of course.
Standing before the famous Ollivanders Wand Shop, Mord couldn’t help but feel emotional.
He had dreamed countless times of owning a real magic wand.
In his previous life, all he could do was buy cheap replicas online and wave them around for fun.
Now, he was finally about to own a genuine wizard’s wand.
Hermione, however, wasn’t nearly as impressed.
She frowned at the weathered signboard and dusty display window.
“Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.?”
“Is that really true?”
“The shop looks so old and run-down.”
Mord smiled.
“Hermione, you have to trust competition.”
“If Ollivanders had been lying for over a thousand years, another wandmaker would have exposed them long ago.”
“A shop that’s survived this long has earned its reputation.”
Hermione nodded thoughtfully.
“That… actually makes sense.”
The anticipation in her eyes grew even stronger.
Ding!
The little brass bell rang as the three stepped inside.
Both Mord and Hermione froze in amazement.
Shelves packed with thousands of wand boxes stretched from floor to ceiling.
They extended so far into the store that the end couldn’t even be seen.
Mord swallowed.
A wand wasn’t merely a wizard’s tool.
It was also their primary weapon.
This wasn’t just a wand shop…
It was the largest arms dealer in the entire British wizarding world.
And the system wants me to become a Dark Lord?
Compared to Ollivander, I’m practically an amateur.
While Mord silently complained, an elderly man with silver hair glided down from the upper shelves on a magically moving ladder.
“Welcome, Professor McGonagall.”
“Another school year has arrived.”
He smiled warmly before turning to the children.
“Welcome.”
“My name is Garrick Ollivander.”
“And what are your names?”
He was already preparing to demonstrate his famous memory.
Nothing delighted him more than astonishing young witches and wizards by remembering exactly which wand their parents had once purchased.
“My name is Mord Black.”
“And I’m Hermione Granger.”
Ollivander’s smile froze for just a moment.
Hermione’s surname meant nothing to him.
She was almost certainly Muggle-born.
As for Mord…
He remembered his family all too well.
His parents had indeed purchased their wands from him.
Unfortunately…
Both had gone on to become notorious Dark Wizards.
What was he supposed to say?
“Ah yes, I remember selling your parents the wands they later used to murder people.”
That hardly seemed appropriate.
“Ahem…”
“Let’s begin with selecting your wands.”
“Miss Granger, if you would.”
“Which hand is your wand hand?”
“My right hand, sir!”
Hermione stepped forward eagerly.
A magical measuring tape immediately sprang to life, wrapping around her arms, shoulders, fingers, and even the distance between her eyes.
Several minutes later, Ollivander nodded with satisfaction.
He climbed the ladder and retrieved a narrow box from one of the upper shelves.
Inside rested a beautiful vine-wood wand.
Its light-brown surface was decorated with elegant vine-like patterns.
“Vine wood.”
“Nine and three-quarter inches.”
“Dragon heartstring core.”
“Reasonably supple.”
He handed it to Hermione.
The moment she grasped it—
Whoosh!
Golden sparks burst from the tip.
Ollivander clapped happily.
“Excellent.”
“A perfect match.”
“I’ve found that vine wands are naturally drawn to ambitious witches and wizards.”
“When the compatibility is exceptional, they respond exactly like this.”
“Miss Granger…”
“I believe you’ll accomplish extraordinary things.”
Hermione beamed with pride.
She clearly adored the wand.
“Thank you, Mr. Ollivander.”
“That will be seven Galleons.”
After paying for her wand, Hermione stepped aside.
Now it was Mord’s turn.
Ollivander hesitated.
“Mr. Black…”
“Let’s… try this one first.”
Instead of allowing the wand to choose its owner as usual, he secretly selected one himself.
It was the first time in years he had broken his own rule.
The reason was simple.
He was terrified of accidentally handing another Dark Lord the perfect wand.
Selling Tom Riddle his wand years ago remained one of the greatest regrets of his career.
“Here.”
“A cypress wand.”
Mord accepted it.
Cypress wands traditionally chose brave and self-sacrificing people.
Ollivander silently prayed.
Please…
let this work.
The instant Mord touched it—
[Hypocritical self-sacrifice detected.]
[Darkness Points +1]
Mord raised an eyebrow.
“This doesn’t seem to suit me.”
“But I’d be happy to try another.”
Free Darkness Points?
Why would I refuse?
Ollivander sighed and fetched another wand.
An oak wand.
[A Dark Lord needs fear, not loyalty.]
[Darkness Points +1]
Next came a pear wand.
[Kindness and generosity are weaknesses in the eyes of a Dark Lord.]
[Darkness Points +1]
Five different wands later…
Mord had gained another five Darkness Points.
Meanwhile…
Ollivander looked completely exhausted.
He collapsed into a nearby chair.
Professor McGonagall, misunderstanding the situation, offered encouragement.
“Don’t be discouraged, Mr. Ollivander.”
“I’m sure the next one will work.”
Ollivander nearly rolled his eyes.
He wasn’t discouraged.
He was terrified.
What if Hogwarts produced another Voldemort?
After a long silence, he finally reached beneath the counter and retrieved an old wand.
“This…”
“…was left behind by my father.”
“It should work.”
Everyone looked at it curiously.
The wand was pale white, almost like polished bone.
Its tip narrowed into an elegant needle-like point.
“Yew wood.”
“Dragon heartstring core.”
“Thirteen inches.”
“Very flexible.”
The moment Professor McGonagall heard the word yew, her expression stiffened.
It looked disturbingly similar to Voldemort’s old wand.
Surely…
not again?
Her thoughts instantly spiraled into chaos.
Meanwhile, Mord had already taken hold of it.
A cool sensation flowed through his fingers.
An icy breeze swept through the shop, making everyone shiver.
Then another notification appeared.
[Corruptible Item Detected: Yew Wand]
Mord blinked.
A wand can be corrupted too?
That was completely unexpected.
Whatever the case, the system clearly approved of this wand.
Ollivander swallowed nervously.
“It suits you perfectly, Mr. Black.”
“Yew wands have… a rather notorious reputation.”
“They excel in dueling and offensive magic.”
“They’re often associated with curses and immense magical power.”
“Some legends even claim they grant their owners the power over life and death.”
Mord nodded happily.
A dragon heartstring core…
A yew wand…
Basically the same configuration as Voldemort’s.
Not bad at all.
Seeing Mord’s calm expression, Ollivander hurried to clarify.
“Many people wrongly believe yew wands only choose Dark Wizards.”
“That’s not true.”
“They’re equally capable of extraordinary defensive magic.”
“In my experience, their owners are split evenly between good and evil.”
He leaned forward hopefully.
“You’re… not a bad person, are you?”
Only then did Mord realize why everyone looked so nervous.
He immediately patted his chest confidently.
“Of course not!”
“I’m definitely a good person.”
“To be honest…”
“I’ve always dreamed of joining Gryffindor.”
Professor McGonagall visibly relaxed.
She even felt a little guilty.
Minerva…
How could you judge a child simply because of his wand?
Just then—
[Ding!]
[The Dark Lord has successfully deceived everyone once again.]
[Darkness Points +1]
Mord couldn’t help rolling his eyes.
He paid the seven Galleons, thanked Ollivander, and left the shop with Professor McGonagall and Hermione.
Watching them disappear into Diagon Alley, Ollivander finally released a long sigh.
“At least I told them it was my father’s wand…”
“If anything happens later…”
“…they can’t blame me.”
Outside the shop, another system notification appeared before Mord’s eyes.
[Item Acquired: Yew Wand]
[Corruption Triggered]
[New Formula Unlocked: Wand of Life and Death]
[Cost: 10 Darkness Points]
[Purchase?]