Ollivander had been selling wands for forty-seven years, and for the very first time, a customer had blown up his shop!
To be precise, she had blown up the nineteenth wand on the third shelf.
Along with the thirty-six wands on the adjacent shelves, it had all been reduced to ashes!
“My dear,” Ollivander said, slowly straightening up from behind the counter, two wood shavings clinging to his graying hair.
“What exactly did you just do to my wand?”
“Gave it a wave.”
Evelyn stood in the middle of a sea of splintered wood and scorch marks, still holding the smoking wand in her hand.
Or rather, it couldn’t really be called a wand anymore.
It was a stick charred black on one side, with a red cylinder taped to the bottom!
“What is that red thing?” Ollivander stared at the object in her hand.
“A double-thunder firecracker.”
“A what?”
“A Muggle firework.
People set them off during the New Year.” Evelyn set the stick down on the counter and patted the dust off her sleeves.
“I figured if I waved a wand combined with a firework, the effect would be even more powerful, so I gave it a try.”
Ollivander fell silent for three full seconds.
“The effect was indeed more powerful!” He cast a glance at his shop, which was now missing half a wall.
“So this one doesn’t suit me either, right?”
“Miss, that was the twenty-third wand you’ve tried today.” Ollivander picked up a sign from the rubble that had snapped cleanly in two.
“Not a single one of the first twenty-two acknowledged you as its master.
Only this one reacted.”
“And then it blew up.”
“And then it blew up.”
…
Evelyn looked down at her palm.
A layer of ash clung to the lines of her hand, and her fingertips felt faintly hot.
She had transmigrated here three days ago.
Three days ago, she had woken up on a hard wooden bed in a London orphanage.
Under her pillow was a Hogwarts acceptance letter, and inside her head was a system called “Fourth Calamity.”
The system had told her two things.
First, her current identity was an eleven-year-old Muggle-born orphan named Evelyn Valentine.
Second, causing trouble earned points, and points could be exchanged for great stuff!
As for what counted as causing trouble?
She felt that this explosion was a flawless demonstration.
[Ding!
Famous shop destroyed, triggering plot offset.
Mischief Points +100.]
As expected!
Just as Evelyn was about to ask Ollivander if he had any sturdier stock, the shop door was pushed open.
A scent of potion ingredients mixed with bitter almonds drifted in first.
Right behind it came a sweeping black robe.
The wearer of the robe had to duck his head just to pass through the half-collapsed doorway.
He swept his gaze over the shattered wood and scorch marks littering the floor, glanced at the smoking stick on the counter, and finally landed his eyes on Evelyn.
“Valentine?” The voice sounded like a dull blade dragging across sandpaper.
Evelyn blinked.
Black hair, black eyes, black robes.
The man was draped in black from head to toe!
“Professor Snape,” Ollivander spoke up at the right moment.
“This is the new student Headmaster Dumbledore asked you to collect.”
Severus Snape did not speak.
His gaze shifted from Evelyn’s face to the wall behind her that was missing half its structure, then shifted back.
“You did this?”
“Technically speaking, the wand did it.” Evelyn held up a finger.
“I merely provided an auxiliary propulsion system.”
“An auxiliary propulsion system,” Severus Snape repeated the phrase.
“Yeah.
A double-thunder firecracker.”
“I know what that is.” Severus Snape’s lips pressed into a thin line.
“The question is, what normal person tapes a Muggle firework to a wand?”
“I never claimed I was normal.”
Silence stretched for about five seconds.
Reading the room, Ollivander sensibly ducked back behind the counter and began clearing away the debris.
Severus Snape stared at Evelyn, and Evelyn stared right back at Severus Snape.
“Follow me.” He turned around.
“I haven’t bought a wand yet!”
“You have already destroyed a quarter of this shop’s inventory.” Severus Snape didn’t turn back, his black robes sweeping over the wood chips on the floor.
“I intend to save the remaining three-quarters for Ollivander!”
“Then what do I use for class?”
“Use your brain.” Severus Snape paused at the doorway, turning half his face back to her.
“Assuming you still have one.”
Evelyn stared at his retreating back, the corners of her mouth curling slightly upward.
Interesting!
As she caught up, the system popped another prompt.
[Emotional fluctuation detected from key character “Severus Snape”.
Mischief Points +50.
Current total: 150.]
The wind at the entrance blew back the hem of Severus Snape’s robe.
Evelyn jogged a few paces across the floor covered in shattered glass and snagged his sleeve.
“Professor, why are you walking so fast?
I don’t know my way around Diagon Alley.”
Severus Snape glanced down at her hand clutching his cuff.
He didn’t shake her off, but his jaw tightened by a noticeable fraction.
“Let go.”
“Take me to the next shop, and I’ll let go.”
“I said, let go!”
“I don’t have a wand yet, Professor.
If we run into bad guys on the way, you can’t just stand by and watch me die, right?”
Severus Snape stared into her eyes for two seconds, pulled his sleeve out of her grip, and strode forward with long strides.
Evelyn immediately fell into step, her stride so light she was practically bouncing.
After taking three paces, Severus Snape suddenly slowed down.
Only a tiny bit—just enough for an eleven-year-old girl to keep up without having to run.
Evelyn noticed, but she didn’t say a word.
She simply reached into her pocket, pulled out a crumpled milk candy, unwrapped the paper, and popped it into her mouth.
This world was far more interesting than she had thought.
And inside her pocket, she still had seventeen double-thunder firecrackers left!