A hint of surprise appeared in Ollivander's deep eyes: "Didn't Eileen ever mention it to you? Her family, the most outstanding potions family in the British Wizarding World—Prince."
His voice held a touch of nostalgia: "You truly resemble her. I still remember her wand, eleven inches long, made of rosewood, with a Unicorn tail hair core. A pure heart, loyal and great power of love..."
"Alright, young wizard, the past cannot be chased. We should continue."
He interrupted Thomas before he could speak.
Turning, he walked into the dark room behind the counter and carefully brought out a worn but clean wand box.
Ollivander's gaze was very complex, as if through this wand, he could glimpse a long-sealed past.
As he opened the box, Severus felt the wand in his hand subtly resonate... "One hundred years ago, my cousin Gerbold and I jointly subdued a Dragon."
Ollivander's voice carried a hint of pride and nostalgia.
"We used its nerve to make two wands. Gerbold once said it was his most satisfying work; he meticulously perfected every detail of the wand, pursuing perfect balance and power."
Ollivander gently stroked the wand, a treasure full of stories and emotions: "Gerbold entrusted it to me before he passed away, asking me to find a master for this wand."
"You've just seen the other wand made from a Dragon's nerve. As twins, this one must be the most compatible with you."
Thomas felt the joyful resonance of the wand and reached out to grasp it.
A Dragon, identical to the one earlier, flew out from the wand tip, but with a completely different feeling from Severus's wand... "I knew it, I knew it, this must be perfect for you."
Ollivander nodded in satisfaction: "Thirteen inches long, crafted from rare Eastern timber, with a dragon-nerve core — a wand of exceptional talent, carrying the power of rebirth through fire."
"The combined effect of wands from the same source will be extraordinary. I hope you use them well."
Unlike his swiftness when retrieving the wands earlier, his speed became slow, befitting his age. He walked to the counter and looked at Sherlock and John: "That will be 14 Galleons."
Considering the exchange rate between pounds and Galleons, John secretly gasped at the price in his heart.
"I also want to buy a wand," Sherlock said, approaching Ollivander with interest.
The old man unhurriedly hung the measuring tape back around his neck: "Muggle mister, you must know that it's not the wizard who chooses the wand, but the wand that chooses the wizard."
Besides purchasing essential items for new students, they also found a herb shop and sold the 'Sniffing Grass' that Watson had been carrying since arriving in Diagon Alley, receiving a considerable price that greatly satisfied Thomas, and promising the shop owner that if they cultivated this precious herb again in the future, they could send it to him via Owl.
Giggs, the owner of the potion shop, also highly praised the potions brewed by Severus. To attract a capable Potions Master, he offered a very fair price.
Besides, money earned here is spent here; not a single cent will be taken home.
The profits from selling potions were all spent by Severus on purchasing a pile of raw materials in this shop, making Giggs even happier!
He didn't know that these potions were made by an eleven-year-old young wizard, and he complimented Sherlock: "Given time, you will surely become an excellent Potions Master!"
Among the four of them, only Sherlock was wearing the ready-made robes just purchased at Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, and coupled with his unique temperament, he indeed looked like a powerful wizard whose strength was unfathomable.
When leaving Diagon Alley, Sherlock still got a wand as he wished, a delicate children's wand only the length of his palm.
Soon it was September 1st. The familiar London taxi still brought them to the familiar King's Cross Station.
Watson looked at the ticket Thomas was holding: "Platform nine and three-quarters..." Does this station have this platform? He didn't remember it at all.
However, Thomas noticed that the Wizarding World passage, which he had never discovered during his previous visits to this station, was very conspicuous this time.
Between the bustling and crowded Platforms nine and ten at King's Cross Station in London, children pushing luggage trolleys would occasionally crash into the large pillar and instantly disappear.
This strange scene, however, was ignored by the police officers and passersby.
Severus also noticed the entrance: "..." This ingenious yet slightly absurd way of entering school, from an outsider's perspective, really looks strange. Whose idea was this anyway!
"John, Sherlock, look!" Thomas reminded them: "That's the platform to Hogwarts."
Sherlock and John focused their attention in the direction Thomas pointed.
The Wizarding World's Muggle-Repelling Charm is actually just a glamour. This spell doesn't truly make Muggles unable to see the existence of the Wizarding World, but rather reduces the "presence" of magical scenes in Muggle perception, causing them to selectively ignore it even when they are within it.
When Muggles gaze at places enchanted with the Repelling Charm with sufficient willpower and concentration, that invisible barrier temporarily fails, briefly exposing a corner of the Wizarding World to their eyes.
"Hmm... your way of entering school is truly unique."
Presumably, to prevent Muggles at the station from accidentally trespassing and causing accidents, Platform 'Nine and Three-Quarters' does not allow Muggles to enter.
The pillar felt like a soft water curtain to Thomas and Severus.
But when Sherlock and John placed their hands on the pillar, they felt solid bricks.
They could only say goodbye outside the platform.
"Take care of each other at school, and remember to write back."
John gently hugged both of them.
"Thank you, John, we will."
Sherlock, however, stood with his arms crossed: "If you get into trouble at school, I allow you to have the teachers call your parents."
"Hey! Sherlock!" John was very dissatisfied with his unreliable companion's advice to the children.
"This is so they don't get bullied at school," Sherlock said righteously.
"Okay, Sherlock."
Thomas and Severus both laughed.
The act of deliberately running into a wall still required a bit of courage. Severus took a deep breath, pushed his luggage trolley forward, and unconsciously started to jog.
As he first touched the wall, Severus felt a slight resistance, but then, he passed through it as easily as air, arriving on the other side of the wall.
The view suddenly opened up. A red sign read "Nine and Three-Quarters," and a dark red steam train was parked on the platform, poised to depart.
The platform was packed with young wizards preparing to go to Hogwarts and their parents who came to see them off, their faces beaming with excitement and anticipation.
The air was filled with magic. Severus stood in the crowd, his gaze involuntarily drawn to everything around him.
Suddenly, a dark red suitcase flew directly past his face, almost touching his nose, making him break out in a cold sweat...