"Fraud? No, no, I never said it was the Deathly Hallow, the Elder Wand. I've always been calling it an elder wood wand, haven't I?" Ollivander shrugged. "In fact, it is made of elder wood, paired with a Thestral tail hair core. It's an extremely powerful wand—just a bit unstable and notoriously difficult to master."
This old man wasn't nearly as kind and gentle as he appeared.
Watching Ollivander's regretful expression, Louis was now certain of that.
Mixing truth and lies so skillfully that one could speak without guilt—this old fellow was a master trickster in his own right.
"Anyway, this wand clearly matches me. I assume there's no problem if I buy it?" Louis didn't want to talk further with this sly old fox.
"Oh, no problem. Thank you for your business—fifteen Galleons." Ollivander nodded and then turned to Harry. "Yours will be seven Galleons."
"Wait a minute, why is mine so much more expensive? Is a Thestral rarer than a Phoenix?" Louis protested.
"Ah, this has nothing to do with the cost," Ollivander smiled. "You can ask around—no other wandmaker can craft a functional elder wand like I can. It's a rarity in itself, and that's enough to justify the price. Consider it a craftsmanship fee."
"…You win." Louis begrudgingly admitted the logic.
He obediently handed over twice the amount Harry paid. The four of them then walked out of the wand shop together.
Once the customers were gone, Ollivander tidied up the mess by himself. With a wave of his wand, the scattered wand boxes and wands floated up and returned to their proper places. In no time, the chaotic store was neat once more.
Two wand boxes were left on the bench. Ollivander picked up the one that belonged to Harry and put it away, then picked up the one meant for Louis.
On top of Louis's wand box was a barely noticeable word: [Prototype (Incomplete)].
"How fascinating," Ollivander murmured with a smile on his aged face. His wrinkles spread like a blooming chrysanthemum. "A wand without a core can still resonate with a wizard? What a joke."
He shook his head and burned the wand box.
"Well, he's an interesting child. Perhaps he'll surprise us in other ways."
Outside the wand shop, Louis was still waiting for a system notification that never came. He looked up at the worn-out sign above the store, the gold letters peeling off, then glanced down at the wand in his hand.
"No feedback…?" he muttered under his breath, blinking. "Where did it go wrong?"
What had just happened in Ollivander's shop was, in truth, a staged magic trick—a Muggle performing in a way that made everyone believe he had resonated with a wand.
But with no response from the system, it meant someone had seen through the illusion.
Whether or not that person had exposed the trick, a deception that was seen through was still a failed one. As a result, Louis hadn't received any Trick Points from Harry, Hagrid, or Mr. Wilson.
The system always gave feedback for successful deceptions. Once a trick concluded, the presence or absence of system rewards was the measure of its success.
As for getting into Hogwarts, while Hagrid had been fooled, he was just one piece of Louis's larger "infiltrate Hogwarts" con. Until Louis officially received his acceptance letter, the system wouldn't settle that score.
But the situation with the wand shop was different. It wasn't a long con. The target had been Ollivander himself—the aim was to make him believe the wand had acknowledged Louis as its owner. Clearly, though, something had gone wrong and Ollivander hadn't fallen for it.
"This might be a problem... but since he didn't expose me on the spot, it should be fine," Louis thought.
After buying their wands, Hagrid took Harry and the Wilsons to a shop that sold owls.
He gifted Harry a beautiful snowy owl, which a delighted Harry named Hedwig. As a magical creature, the owl was not only more charming than its mundane counterparts but also much more obedient.
"Is it mandatory to have an owl to attend Hogwarts?" Mr. Wilson asked while teasing one of the shop's owls with a dried mouse.
He still remembered the time their neighbor's house was swarmed by owls. The memory left him slightly traumatized.
"You can also bring a cat or a toad—there aren't strict rules. But every student needs to have one companion," Hagrid explained. "Owls are a great choice. They can deliver mail, so Louis can keep in touch with you while he's at school."
"Can't he just use a cellphone or a landline?" Mr. Wilson asked.
"I don't know what a cellphone or landline is, but Muggle electronics don't work at Hogwarts," Hagrid explained.
"Oh, that's inconvenient... Fine, we'll get him an owl," Mr. Wilson said to Louis.
In the end, at Hagrid's recommendation, Louis chose a brownish-yellow Eurasian eagle-owl with dark feather markings as his companion.
He didn't know how others chose their owls—he simply went for the biggest one.
With that, Louis had accomplished most of what he came to Diagon Alley for. It was time to head back.
Though Mr. Wilson was a bit reluctant—he felt there was still so much more to explore. This magical world might be behind the times, but its mystery was like fine aged wine: the more you tasted, the more you wanted.
Unfortunately, the father and son had snuck out, and they had to return. If Mrs. Wilson woke up and found both of them gone with only a note left behind, she'd go ballistic.
Back at the Leaky Cauldron, just before leaving, Louis double-checked with Hagrid about the school admission letter. Hagrid reassured him that he had already written to Headmaster Dumbledore.
"Don't worry—Professor Dumbledore is very reliable. He'll sort everything out," Hagrid said confidently.
Hagrid had a near-religious faith in Dumbledore, firmly believing he could handle anything.
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