Chapter 4: The Wand Chooses the Wizard
Chapter 4: The Wand Chooses the Wizard
Regardless, Kyle still needed to buy a wand, so he cautiously pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Much to his surprise, Diana and Chris didn't follow him in. Perhaps they thought wand shopping would take a while, so after learning that Kyle was heading to Ollivander's first, they decided to make a detour to Gringotts instead.
...
The interior of the shop was a significant improvement from its exterior. While it still looked old and the items were arranged haphazardly, it was at least clean.
The tinkling of a bell announced the appearance of a white-haired head behind the counter, as if by magic.
"Good afternoon, young one," Ollivander greeted him.
He eyed Kyle curiously and asked, "Are you here alone?"
"Yes," Kyle replied, puzzled. "Is there a problem?"
Ollivander shook his head. "No, not at all."
As he spoke, Kyle thought he glimpsed a flicker of disappointment in the old wizard's eyes.
Strange. Why would he be disappointed that a customer had walked in?
"Must have imagined it," Kyle muttered to himself, shaking his head.
"Well then, young wizard," Ollivander said, stepping out from behind the counter. "May I ask your name, child?"
"Kyle Joba," Kyle replied promptly.
"Joba..." Ollivander paused briefly, then asked, "And is Mr. Chris..."
"My father," Kyle confirmed.
"Oh, of course..." Ollivander glanced instinctively toward the shop door, but his gaze quickly returned to Kyle, and he explained, "I mean, the surname Joba is quite uncommon in British wizarding circles."
It was clear now; the old man had indeed been disappointed!
Kyle could see it plain as day. The moment he had mentioned that Chris was his father, disappointment had flitted across Ollivander's face.
Moreover, the old wizard had started muttering under his breath about willow and chestnut, though his voice was too soft for Kyle to make out the words. He didn't pay it any mind, though; his thoughts were filled with anticipation for his very own wand.
After giving his name, Kyle added, "Mr. Ollivander, I'm right-handed."
He extended his arms straight out in front of him, ready for Ollivander to take his measurements. He knew the process well.
After taking his measurements, the next step would be wand selection—the most time-consuming part.
There were thousands of wands in the shop—eight thousand at the very least, in Kyle's estimation. Even for Ollivander, it would be challenging to identify a wand that matched a young wizard on sight. The best he could do was narrow it down to a range and then test them one by one.
Kyle was prepared for this.
Testing wands was one of the things he had been looking forward to, just like pushing the trolley through the barrier.
However, Ollivander's next words left him bewildered.
"Oh, child, there's no need for that."
Without measuring his height or asking any further questions, Kyle found himself watching as Ollivander strode back behind the counter and swiftly pulled a box from the most prominent position. He opened it and slid it toward Kyle.
The movement was fluid and confident, without a hint of hesitation.
"What are you waiting for? Try it out!" Ollivander urged when Kyle didn't immediately move.
"Ah? Oh, right," Kyle snapped out of his daze and picked up the wand from the box.
It was grayish-black and smooth, with no adornments beyond the necessary handle.
"Good, very good indeed."
Ollivander looked extremely excited. Without waiting for Kyle to ask, he explained, "Thirteen and a quarter inches, cedar wood, and phoenix feather. I must say, it's a rather fascinating combination."
"A fascinating combination?" Kyle was puzzled.
"Yes, fascinating," Ollivander affirmed, gazing at Kyle. "Cedar wood wands usually choose witches and wizards with keen insight and a calm demeanor. Those who wield such wands are known for their thoughtful decisions. As my father used to say, you can never deceive someone with a cedar wood wand, and I couldn't agree more."
"Hence, cedar wood wand owners often prefer the stability and loyalty of unicorn hair. Phoenix feathers can be a bit too proactive."
"In fact, I've crafted and sold thirty-six cedar wood wands in total. Thirty of them had unicorn hair cores, five had dragon heartstrings, and the last one..."
Ollivander paused without finishing his sentence, simply smiling and pointing at Kyle.
"But, Mr. Ollivander, didn't you say that these two materials don't match well? Why did you make this wand, then?" Kyle asked, confused.
"Not a good match, so I shouldn't make it? No, no, no. The wand chooses the wizard, child," Ollivander explained. "Every wand, once created, will choose its destined owner. They are waiting here, not because they are inferior but because their fates have not yet arrived. Their owners are merely awaiting their acceptance letters from Hogwarts."
Ollivander paused briefly before continuing, "Additionally, the most fascinating aspect of wandlore is when completely contradictory wand woods and cores come together in the hands of a single witch or wizard and perform perfectly.
Take the wand in your hand, for example. Your father, Mr. Chris, has tried it, and so has your mother, Diana, but they were both just a tad off—only by a smidge.
So, when I heard the news of your birth, I've been waiting for this day. It's perfect, isn't it?"
Well... yes.
Kyle nodded subconsciously.
The feeling of the wand in his hand, as if it were an extension of his arm, was indeed mesmerizing, and he couldn't help but feel attached to it.
Although the process differed from what he had imagined, the result was still favorable, and Kyle was very pleased with his wand.
"Now, young wizard, that will be seven galleons."
Ollivander's smile widened.
"Alright." Kyle took out the seven gold galleons he had prepared and placed them on the counter.
The first wand for new students usually cost seven galleons, which was already a very reasonable price in the wizarding world. However, this special price was only applicable to young witches and wizards just starting their magical education.
After Kyle paid, Ollivander gave a slight bow and saw him out. Only then did he turn to the other young wizard who had just entered the shop, along with the adult accompanying him.
"Oh, Mr. Thomas, good day to you. Eleven inches, rowan wood..."
(End of Chapter)
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