Ollivanders Wand Shop was silent and solemn. Countless long, narrow boxes were stacked neatly on shelves that stretched almost to the ceiling. A pleasant woody scent lingered in the air. In the sunlight filtering through the glass, tiny specks of dust could be seen drifting and dancing, accompanied by a faint tinkling sound from somewhere unknown.
"Good afternoon."
A gentle voice floated out from the depths of the shop, followed by the appearance of an elderly man. His eyes were silvery white and unusually large, like a pair of full moons. Through Avada's Magical Perception, those eyes corresponded to an unimaginably complex and strange internal structure.
The old man froze for a moment when he saw Dumbledore, then his face lit up with delight."Oh, Professor Dumbledore! What an honor to see you again… Have you brought this child to purchase a wand?"
"Yes, Mr. Ollivander. I'll leave it to you to select a wand for him," Dumbledore said with a smile, then stepped aside.
Ollivander seemed as though he wanted to say something more, but seeing Dumbledore's gesture, he could only give a small, helpless shake of his head before turning his attention to Avada.
"Then let us begin."
Ollivander's silvery eyes fixed on Avada for several long seconds, staring so intently that it made Avada's skin prickle. Just as he was about to ask what was wrong, he noticed Ollivander's expression growing stranger by the moment.
"What is your name, child?"
"..."
Avada turned to look at Dumbledore and received a confirming nod.
"Avada Kendavia."
He deliberately drew out the pronunciation, imitating Dumbledore's calm tone in an effort to minimize the shock. Even so, Ollivander visibly trembled upon hearing the name—though that quickly gave way to a look of sudden realization.
"I see… no wonder…"
"Well then, Mr. Kendavia, which is your wand hand?"
"Right."
"Raise your arm."
The measuring tape in Ollivander's hand floated up on its own and began circling Avada, taking note of every dimension of his body. Meanwhile, Ollivander himself plunged into the towering stacks of wand boxes behind him, rummaging through them as he spoke.
"My eyes allow me to see certain special things. Combined with the purchaser's name and measurements, I can roughly narrow down the suitable range of wands. Of course, if the customer is particularly discerning, it can still take a dozen tries—or even several dozen…"
"Alright, try this one. Ten and three-quarters inches, acacia wood, phoenix feather core. Give it a wave."
Before he could even finish speaking, his words caught in his throat. A burst of red light surged from the wand tip, wrapping around the hand gripping it and gradually enveloping Avada's entire body.
"Whoa!"
Avada couldn't help but cry out in surprise. The moment he grasped the wand, his Magical Perception felt as though it had suddenly been fitted with a pair of glasses—everything snapping into sharp focus, several times clearer than before.
Even more astonishing, he sensed that his own golden glow—his mental power—could now extend outward along the wand in a directed flow, becoming more solid, with its effective range vastly increased.
This thing was practically a god-tier casting tool!
"One try success? That's quite rare!" Ollivander exclaimed excitedly. He then calmed himself and smiled."Mr. Kendavia, congratulations. You've found the wand that suits you best. It will stay by your side and accompany you as you embark upon your journey into the magical world."
"Uh…"
Avada felt something was off. He'd seen plenty of people choose wands—trying one after another for ages, until Ollivander finally found a particularly powerful and unusual one and erupted with excitement. But when it came to him, it was just… done?
"Um… should we try a few more?"
He asked somewhat sheepishly.
"Try others?" Ollivander laughed. "Very well. After all, never experiencing an ill-fitting wand during selection can be considered a kind of regret." He promptly took out another box."Twelve and a half inches, ebony, unicorn hair. Give this one a try."
Curious, Avada reached out and took the wand. The instant his fingers closed around it, the wand once again burst into a brilliant red glow. A warm current flowed through his entire body, leaving him utterly comfortable—exactly the same as with the previous wand.
"Hm?"
A flicker of surprise appeared in Ollivander's eyes.
"It's exceedingly rare for someone to resonate so perfectly with a second wand," he said thoughtfully, studying the boy before him. "That you felt compelled to try another—perhaps you were subconsciously drawn to it? Could this be the hand of fate?"
"Um… could I try another one?"
"Haha, still want to experience a poorly matched wand?" Ollivander chuckled. "Very well. Thirteen inches, cherry wood, unicorn hair. Try this."
Avada accepted the newly taken box, opened it, and grasped the wand.
Red light. Warm flow.
"This is impossible!"
Now even Dumbledore, who had been quietly observing from the side, wore a look of astonishment.
If perfectly matching with two wands in a row could still be called coincidence, then a third time meant something far more unusual was at play.
"Try this one!"
Ollivander no longer even bothered announcing the specifications. He simply stuffed another wand into Avada's hand—
Red light. Warm flow.
"How about this one?"
Perfect fit. Red light. Warm flow.
"And this!"
Red light. Warm flow.
"This one!!"
Red light. Warm flow.
"..."
Red light. Warm flow.
Ollivander, Dumbledore, and Avada all fell into silence.
"This shouldn't be possible… how could this happen… it makes no sense…"
After pondering fruitlessly for a long time, Ollivander could only turn to Dumbledore for help."Professor Dumbledore, do you have any idea what might be going on?"
The response he received was an equally bewildered look.
Meanwhile, Avada stood there clutching a wand in a daze, the corner of his eye twitching. At the very least, he had finally experienced what it was like to keep trying wand after wand.
Just… in reverse.
"So…" he ventured carefully, breaking the silence, "how exactly am I supposed to choose my wand?"
The shop fell into an even heavier silence.
"...How about the first one?" Dumbledore finally suggested.
His brow furrowed so deeply it looked as though his spectacles might be pushed right off his face, but in the end, he sighed and nodded."That will do."
Ollivander, though clearly unwilling to give up entirely, ultimately said nothing more. He quietly accepted seven Galleons and handed Avada the wand—ten and three-quarters inches, acacia wood, phoenix feather core.
There was, however, one unexpected upside to all of this.
When they went on to purchase textbooks, robes, and the rest of a first-year student's supplies, Dumbledore wore an expression as though he were contemplating a matter concerning the fate of the entire wizarding world. As a result, no one around them dared to intrude or strike up conversation, allowing Avada to complete his trip through Diagon Alley with remarkable ease.
It wasn't until Avada signed the Ministry of Magic's compensation agreement with his wand—completing the magical contract—that Dumbledore finally fixed his gaze on him and spoke in a grave tone.
"You possess a talent far beyond anything we could imagine, Avada."
"I hope you'll make good use of it."
Contrary to expectations, that was all Dumbledore said—just those two short sentences. Soon after, his tone lightened again.
"However, before you begin to properly master your gift, I recommend buying a few genuine Muggle textbooks on your way back to your friends. Otherwise, you may find their questions rather difficult to handle."
"And one more thing," he added. "The coming month will be the last period in which you're permitted to perform magic outside school before returning to Hogwarts. If you don't make good use of it, you may regret it later—though do be discreet. Matters related to the Statute of Secrecy are always troublesome."
"Thank you for the reminder, Professor," Avada said sincerely.
Then he remembered something else."And Professor Dumbledore, about my name…"
"No need to worry too much," Dumbledore said with a smile. "Although the name registered at Hogwarts and the Ministry of Magic cannot be changed, you're free to use a codename among the students. That way, at least only the professors will know your true name, sparing you unnecessary trouble from your classmates. Hmm… Avada Kendavia… how about 'Mr. K'?"
"Sounds good," Avada sighed inwardly.But that meant he'd also become "the one whose name must not be spoken," wouldn't he?
An orphan, brought to Hogwarts by Dumbledore. Astonishing talent. A name that could not be mentioned…
"I won't be sorted into Slytherin… right?"
"And if the Sorting Hat gets startled when it learns my real name—will it just send me straight to Azkaban instead?"
(End of Chapter)