Hearing Ollivander’s words, Elavin became intrigued.
“Who are you talking about?” “I’d also like to know who you’re talking about.” Dumbledore walked in, his crooked nose tilted as always.
He had clearly overheard the conversation between Elavin and Ollivander and now repeated the same question, though his tone felt more like a warning than curiosity.
Ollivander quickly cut off the topic and smiled toward the entrance.
“Welcome, Professor Dumbledore!
Bringing a new student to buy a wand today?” Hey, hey!!
That subject change was painfully obvious!!
Ollivander clearly had no intention of continuing the topic, and Elavin didn’t press further.
Even so, he had already guessed what it was.
Many years ago, a handsome blond young man with mismatched eyes had stolen a wand from Ollivander’s shop.
That man later became the most dangerous dark wizard in Europe.
This old wandmaker had clearly developed PTSD.
As for who that person was…
If Dumbledore hadn’t suddenly shown up acting so strangely, Elavin might not have realized it so quickly.
“Mr.
Ollivander, how did you know I’m a new student?” Ollivander looked at him proudly.
“I remember every customer who has ever bought a wand from me, and exactly which wand they took.” “That impressive?” “What do you think has kept this shop running for a thousand years?” “Uh…
monopoly and a shady, profit-driven business?” And just like that, the conversation died again.
“Anyway, let us proceed.
Mr…?” “Elavin Yakute.” “Mr.
Yakute, a pleasure to serve you.” The shop was small, but filled with long, thin boxes stacked from floor to ceiling, from window to wall, layer upon layer like a mountain.
Elavin didn’t even bother looking at them.
He slammed his palm down on the counter.
“Let’s skip the small talk.
Just bring out your grandfather’s wand.” Ollivander blinked.
“Grandfather’s wand?” Elavin blinked back.
“You know, the one your grandfather, or maybe your great-grandfather or great-great-grandfather, made when he was young after traveling to a mysterious Eastern country to collect materials.
The one no one has ever been able to use.” Ollivander looked four parts awkward, three parts confused, and three parts bewildered.
“I don’t know where you heard that, but I assure you, it’s a rumor.
There is no such wand in this shop.” “Really not?” “Really not.” “You sure?” “Absolutely sure.” Click.
A handgun appeared in Elavin’s hand.
“Think again.
Maybe you’re forgetting something.” Ollivander: “!!” “Ab…
absolutely not!
I remember every single wand in this shop!” Seeing that he wasn’t lying, Elavin finally gave up.
“Fine.
Do it your way then.” Ollivander wiped cold sweat from his forehead and pulled out a measuring tape.
“Please extend your wand hand, Mr.
Yakute.
Let me measure your arm and hand length.” Elavin casually put away the handgun and extended his dominant hand.
“Mr.
Ollivander, can I ask you something?” “Go ahead.” “You’re choosing a wand based on my current body measurements.
But if I grow in a couple of years, won’t it stop working properly?” “Not at all, Mr.
Yakute.
When I select a wand, I take such factors into account.
That is the reason this shop has lasted for a thousand years, not because of what you called a ‘shady, profit-driven business.'” “One more thing,” Ollivander added seriously while measuring.
“As the maker of these wands, I must remind you: the wand chooses the wizard, Mr.
Yakute.
Not the other way around.” After finishing the measurements, Ollivander began selecting wands.
“Try this one.
Twelve inches, dogwood, troll beard hair.” He didn’t even need to try it.
The moment Elavin heard the materials, he already knew it wasn’t suitable.
“Hey, you seriously expect me to use something like this?” The moment he picked it up, the surrounding wand boxes began trembling violently.
Elavin quickly shoved it back and smirked at Ollivander.
“See?
Obviously not this one.” But Ollivander was already fully focused on the selection process and didn’t respond.
“Your magic is quite powerful.
I may need to find something much stronger.” He returned to the shelves and soon came back with another box.
“Try this one.
Fifteen inches, hornbeam, unicorn hair.” “This one sounds interesting.” Elavin nodded and picked it up.
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!!
The entire shop’s windows shook violently.
A glass cabinet nearby shattered into fragments, scattering everywhere.
Dumbledore, standing in the back, narrowly avoided being hit.
Ollivander quickly snatched the wand back.
“No, no…
that won’t do.” “Thirteen and one-eighth inches, holly, thestral tail hair?” “Fourteen inches, ebony, dragon heartstring?” “…” For a long time, Elavin tried wand after wand.
Dumbledore, having nothing better to do, went out to grab a snack and use the restroom.
When he returned, Ollivander was still searching.
Neither he nor Ollivander showed any impatience.
Perhaps for them, watching a young wizard test wand after wand was simply an entertaining pastime.
Finally…
“This is the one.” “Fourteen and one-eighth inches, acacia wood, dragon heartstring.” The moment he picked it up, the wand emitted a brief golden light that blossomed into a brilliant firework in the air.
Elavin waved it gently, feeling a warm surge spread through his entire body, like soaking in a soothing hot spring.
“Perfect.” “A perfect match!” Ollivander exclaimed excitedly, as if he had just solved a problem he had been working on for an entire afternoon.
“This wand is very special, Mr.
Yakute.” “Of course it is.
It took long enough.” “That’s not what I mean.” Ollivander placed a hand on his shoulder solemnly.
“Acacia wood symbolizes rarity and individuality.
Dragon heartstring reflects your strength.
Only a wizard of extraordinary ability, one destined for greatness, could be matched with such a wand.” “Please take good care of it.”