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Chapter 4 - Chapter 4. Ollivander’s Wands……

Chapter 4. Ollivander's Wands...

Duncan and Newt hurried to Diagon Alley, to the door of Ollivanders.

Unfortunately, a "Temporarily Closed" sign was already hanging on the shabby wooden door.

Fortunately, the door was not locked, and Mr Ollivander was standing just inside, tidying the wands on the shelves by the entrance.

Newt led Duncan over to speak with Mr Ollivander, explained the situation, and asked whether he could work a little overtime to help Duncan choose a suitable wand.

Kind-hearted Mr Ollivander nodded warmly, welcomed them into the shop, and lit the lamps along the side wall.

Mr Ollivander had Duncan stand in front of the counter, measured him with a tape marked in silver increments, and muttered a few words to himself.

Then he turned to the shelves beside him, took down a grimy box, waved away the dust, drew out a white wand with fine grain, and pressed it into Duncan's hand.

"Aspen, dragon heartstring, eight inches.

Give it a wave," said Mr Ollivander with a smile.

Duncan nodded, rotated his wrist, and traced a circle in the air with the wand.

A sudden gale whipped through the shop, snatching up the wand boxes Mr Ollivander had just set out and sending them flying everywhere.

Duncan stopped, a little embarrassed.

"I'm sorry, Mr Ollivander..."

"No, no, child, this isn't your fault," Mr Ollivander raised a hand to cut him off, deftly drew the wand back from Duncan's hand, and turned again to the shelves at his side.

"Although that wand has accepted you, it still isn't quite right for you.

Hmm….. let me see which others might suit..."

Mr Ollivander paced to and fro before the shelf crammed with boxes.

After a dozen seconds, he stood on tiptoe to take another box from a higher spot and drew out the wand inside.

This time, the moment he held it out to Duncan—before Duncan could even give it a wave—Mr Ollivander snatched it back again.

"Not this one.

Still no... let me keep looking..." he murmured, continuing his search along the shelves.

After a stretch of repeated taking and replacing, Duncan's hand hung in mid-air in an empty grip.

A helpless look was on his face as he let Mr Ollivander work.

The wands on the floor had piled into a little mound, yet the right one still had not been found.

Could the wand have detected my special identity as a transmigrator?

Or is my magic really this picky?

Am I a legendary genius?

Duncan pondered silently.

But Newt's next move made him drop the notion in surprise.

Newt gave a soft cough and, pretending to be casual, reminded him, "Mr Ollivander, it's getting a bit late now.

We still have to go to Flourish and Blotts to buy a few things.

Perhaps you could..."

"Oh, oh, sorry, I forgot..." Mr Ollivander came back to himself, patted his forehead lightly, and smiled apologetically.

Then he turned on his heel to the bottom row of shelves on the other side and, as if he had long since fixed on his target, pulled a box from below and handed it to Duncan.

"Maple, phoenix feather, thirteen inches.

Try this one."

Duncan gave it a gentle wave and immediately felt a silken smoothness he had never experienced with the others.

"You seemed to know in advance it would suit me?" Duncan studied the slender wand in his hand, asking with interest.

"Because the wand chooses the wizard, child.

It told me the answer."

Mr Ollivander spoke in a mysteriously knowing tone.

But seeing Duncan's face full of disbelief, he hesitated, then smiled and said:

"How to put it—when someone holds a wand that does not suit them, different degrees of mismatch create different fluctuations.

A competent wandmaker can judge, from those fluctuations, what kind of wand suits the customer before him.

If you want to understand it in detail, you can come and learn with me in future."

"So that's why you had me try so many wands before?" Duncan nodded, enlightened.

"Not entirely.

In fact, the moment you held the first wand, I already knew which wand suited you."

Duncan raised his eyebrows in surprise.

"Mm?"

"The reason I had you try so many times..." A glint of slyness flashed in Mr Ollivander's very pale eyes.

"I've found that if I pick out the right wand for young witches and wizards at once, they sometimes feel a bit deflated.

But as I increase the number of attempts, they start to feel special and become very happy.

Over time, I kept the habit."

"I see.

You really are a kind-hearted wandmaker," Duncan said with a speechless little laugh.

No wonder Newt had stepped in to prompt him just now.

"Let this be our secret.

Don't tell anyone else, or this little trick won't work," Mr Ollivander said with a wink.

"Your wand comes to nine Galleons in all."

"Of course!" Duncan agreed at once.

After Newt paid, he waved goodbye to Mr Ollivander, then jogged with Newt to Flourish and Blotts, Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, and the other shops to buy everything on the list that had come with the letter.

They hurried back to the big tree by their house.

Duncan glanced up at the stars gradually pricking through the sky, leaned on the trunk, and looked towards a three-storey house not far away.

Dim amber light spilled from the windows, and a blurred figure could just be seen in the frame.

They had indeed come back a bit late today.

Tina had probably been waiting ages and might be gathering a storm of fury.

Duncan turned his head and met Newt's slightly grave gaze.

The two of them drew deep breaths in unison, steadying their nerves.

"Come on, let's face our judgment."

They reached the waist-high stone wall, pushed open the gate, and Duncan followed Newt into the yard.

They had barely stepped onto the cobblestone path when, with a bang, the door ahead was flung open.

Tina appeared on the threshold, arms folded, lips pressed tight, face taut as she took a stern measure of the two of them.

A killing chill seemed to ripple through the air.

Duncan decisively lowered his head and silently dropped two steps behind Newt.

He had not expected that, just as they were about to reach her, Newt would suddenly brake, bend down, and pick something up from the ground.

That forced Duncan to walk on ahead and face Tina first.

Blast!

Duncan roared inwardly, hurriedly flashed a brilliant smile, stepped forward, and hugged Tina with open arms.

"Granny!" he called sweetly.

The expression on Tina's face softened a good deal.

She gently stroked Duncan's smooth hair and asked in a low voice, "Have you bought everything on the list?"

"Of course, Granny.

Look at my new wand—doesn't it look nice?" Duncan took out the wand and showed it off.

"Very pretty!" Tina nodded with a smile and moved aside from the doorway.

"Duncan, hurry in and rest.

Supper's on the table."

"Alright."

Duncan let out a breath, knowing he had passed inspection, slipped quickly into the house, and, without a sound, cast Newt a smug little smile of helplessness.

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