Chapter 4 The Magic Wand Beyond Destiny

Harry was a little disappointed that he couldn't find out about the blacksmith's shop.

He was also a little uncomfortable with the Hogwarts robes - he didn't expect them to be so loose, so that he always felt like he was stumbling.

He is still more accustomed to wearing armor, even tights are better.

Hagrid came back soon and took him to buy other things, such as crucibles, herbs, books, and a trip to the pet store. Hagrid gave him an early birthday gift - a beautiful puppy with a very sweet smile.

Snowy Owl.

Birthday.

July 31st.

He almost forgot about this day. Witchers are aliens. Although they are still human in nature, they will also celebrate their birthdays. But most of the time they are in the wilderness, fighting demons and defending the road, or being chased by humans and monsters. Harry has already

It’s been a long time since I had a good birthday.

"Finally it's time to buy you a wand." Hagrid looked at the list and muttered, "Ollivander is the best wand master. You will definitely buy the wand that suits you best there."

The wizard's "smithy".

"Let me think about it..."

What did I hear...

"No, I don't know him!" Ollivander gritted his teeth and roughly interrupted Harry, "As long as a wizard can use a wand, it's fine. You have to treat it well!"

"The other one, a yew tree, thirteen inches and one-half, was sold to the Dark Lord who shall not be named."

"A hundred years ago, goblins were still doing this business, specifically forging weapons for young wizards of Muggle origin, but... times have changed now, and no young wizard will buy such crude, cruel, and barbaric things!"

Harry took out the Galleons, took the book, and asked casually: "By the way, Mr. Ollivander, I have something to ask you."

Ollivander suddenly stood up and looked at Harry: "Oh, I have an idea!"

Harry's face was expressionless.

When I opened the door and walked in, the atmosphere in the room was a bit depressing. No...it wasn't a problem with the environment.

I tried many, but none of them satisfied Ollivander.

Hagrid shivered and looked at Ollivander and then at Harry, a little confused.

He took the wand back, but did not put it back. Instead, he put it aside and gave Harry another wand: "Try this one, black walnut, phoenix feather, eleven inches and one-third."

one."

"They're all very threatening."

"You are not bound to your fate as Dumbledore expected."

"I started looking at your other traits, but... they all performed the same, they were all average."

Ollivander nodded: "Yes."

He waved lightly.

"I think it will suit you well."

"You are a keen little gentleman, so I think black walnut may be suitable for you. It is also very sharp, but like the last wand, it is a servant, not a partner."

"Oh, it's so strange!" Ollivander's eyes sparkled and his tone became excited, "Let's try this one, fir wood, unicorn hair, ten and one-half inches

.”

"In your hands... it's like prey."

"Maybe you should try this one?"

"They may have some... qualities that are difficult for ordinary people to detect, but the wand is always very sensitive to these qualities."

Harry was not surprised at all. Witchers seemed to have this problem.

"No." Harry said bluntly, "This feeling makes me very uncomfortable."

"It won't be that easy if you choose the right wand again."

"Yes, you are very smart and mature, but no young wizard, or even an adult wizard, would find it difficult to realize the meaning of the saying 'the wand chooses the wizard'."

"Gryffindor only has one sword." Ollivander said expressionlessly, his voice cold, and he clicked his tongue, "And there is no blacksmith in Diagon Alley!"

Harry noticed it as soon as he entered the house.

"I wish I had a talent like yours." Ollivander muttered, "I can only feel like you after thirty years of working with wands."

"Oh, a keen young man." A soft voice suddenly came out from behind a counter, startling Hagrid. Harry had been prepared for this. He had already noticed... This one had almost no sense of existence.

The old man who could almost escape from his perception.

"Two wands were made from the same phoenix feather, one of which is this one."

Ollivander dug around and found a wand: "Cedar wood, phoenix feather, eleven inches."

This one still doesn't fit.

"I would never consider provoking a cedar wand owner. There are very few wizards who own such wands. They all have very keen insights and observation skills."

Harry sighed: "What a pity. Do you know any goblins? I would like to invite..."

Harry nodded: "Yes."

"The survivor's wand should be more suitable for you?"

Harry asked: "So in fact, each wand material corresponds to a personality trait?"

"I thought he would be suitable for elm, acacia or grapevine wood, but in the end, it was yew that suited him."

Wave gently, a breeze.

"It feels wonderful, doesn't it?"

"Seven galleons." Ollivander replied, muttering, and took out a book from behind the counter, ""Wand Care", this book is for you."

Ollivander was startled and then laughed: "Oh...that's a very interesting point of view. In your eyes, do you think anything that doesn't belong to you is a threat?"

Harry took it and saw that the wand also had mixed aura, but after struggling for a while in his hand, it became extremely docile, and he waved it gently.

Wake up!

"Good afternoon, Mr. Potter, you are more perceptive than your mother." The old man with silver-white eyes walked out from behind the counter and looked at Harry, "You seem to be able to detect the breath of these wands?"

"You are a picky little wizard. Oh, I should write you down in the book. It's so wonderful."

"A small wand, but they have their own breath, their own life, their own thoughts..."

"Why are you asking this?" he stammered, looking at the wand in Harry's hand, he couldn't help but spit in his heart - he didn't feel any unpleasant breath from the wand.

Harry raised his hand and touched his scar: "Really, that's really a pity."

The wand also struggled for a while and soon became obedient and obedient.

Having said this, Ollivander raised his head and looked at Harry with a complex expression: "Of course, this is always the case for every little wizard who is destined to be outstanding in the future."

"Remember, treat it well."

You, the master, have just acquired you and are already considering other weapons!

"Okay, let's choose a wand for this troublesome little wizard like you. I'm already very tired. Just let me have a good rest."

Ollivander turned around, picked at the counter, and quickly took out a box: "Try this one, beech wood, snake nerve, nine inches."

Ollivander raised his eyebrows: "What's the matter?"

"That magic wand does not resist you, but... it is not a like-minded partner with you, it just surrenders to you willingly."

"Just like that gentleman." Ollivander couldn't help but shiver, and his eyes fell on Harry's forehead, "Just like the gentleman who left the scar on you."

"The goblins are all working at Gringotts now."

"Your mother is a gentle person, and your father is also a qualified leader - I think if you inherit their advantages, then beech wood must be the most suitable for you."

It may feel like you are talking nicely, but in the end... you always end up resorting to using swords or fists to solve problems.

"I think Dumbledore is right, you are suitable for the wand in destiny." Ollivander picked up one and showed it to Harry, "This is it, holly wood, phoenix feather, eleven

inch."

Harry laughed at himself - he was a demon hunter. Even though humans would curse them as freaks, monsters, and emotionless aliens, they were indeed "messengers of justice" who hunted darkness and monsters.

Harry played with the small stick and nodded: "Thank you, how much does this wand cost?"

Stop licking him!

"But it's not for you either."

"That is a wand that is very good at black magic. Some of its owners are even notorious."

"You are very different from your parents. Maybe...this is the little special thing about the savior?"

"No, no, it's not suitable for you either." Ollivander grabbed it again and inserted another one, "Apple wood, dragon's nerve, nine and seven-twelfths of an inch."

"Let me think about it, my dear, let me think about it." Ollivander rubbed his head.
To be continued...